So, when Irving decided to finally mow the lawn at the front of the house, and had hauled everything out, he discovered the day had other plans for him. Oh, the lawn would get cut, it badly needed mowing, it's just that the job would turn out differently than Irving had anticipated. It took a little longer and required a bit more effort. Our trusty old electric lawn mower is out of business, gave up the ghost, pooped out, refused to perform.

So, out came the push mower and it tackled the job. Made just a trifle more difficult, with more passes required because (a) the grass was too long, and (b) it was still wet from the ongoing series of rain events we'd had. Time to shop for a new mower. And that's what Irving did after breakfast today, out he went, stopping at Canadian Tire, Home Hardware and Home Depot. And came home with a mower. That will see action another day.

What demanded his more immediate attention was to continue emptying our two compost bins, shovel out that black garden gold onto the gardens, and disassemble the compost bins since we won't be needing them in the foreseeable future, given the municipality's weekly compost pick-ups. He's still engrossed in the need to make things easier for the fencers when they finally arrive to replace our three-decade-old fence. Our garden beds will be grateful for the gift of the compost before they're put to 'bed' as it were, for the winter months.

Today turned out a cool day after a series of hot, humid days. Cool enough that Jackie and Jillie wanted to lay out on the deck in the sun. Until, at least, it got too hot and then in they came, Jillie to arrange herself under the coffee table in the family room, panting and Jackie to leap onto his throne at the top-back of the sofa.

And then off we went to the ravine. By then the sun had retreated behind silvery-grey clouds that promised to behave; no more rain until tonight, they said earnestly and we believed them. There was some signage at the forest entrance, and it informed anyone who might be interested that the community-spirited man who has for years provided a waste can at all ravine entrances to collect scooped-up doggy-waste will no longer continue doing so.

His altruism has been interrupted by a cancer diagnosis. While we stood there momentarily, our neighbour who lives in the corner house adjacent the ravine entrance who has been less than thrilled that the poop collection is right next to her backyard, came out to tell us that the tall, elderly man is retiring his community-spirited practise of putting out full garbage bags of collected waste for weekly pick-up. The only thing was her description didn't match that of our experience of recognizing a much younger, robust man who has been putting himself out with that task. Mystery abounds.

When we returned back home after two hours on the trails and a very satisfied pair of pups awaiting their salad, I finished the laundry, did the ironing, and began preparations for a paella-fish dinner. Mind lingering on that sad news and mystified over the disparity of recognition of the individual involved.