In a fond farewell to the last day of Chanukah -- the Jewish Festival of Lights commemorating the Maccabbe rebellion in 168 BCE, against a Seleucid occupation when a crucible of oil in the Jerusalem Temple of Solomon (Second Temple era) miraculously remained alight for an unexpected eight days, a happy time of year often coinciding in time with the Christmas holidays, we had potato latkes for dinner last night, a perennial favourite, though they're accessible at any time of year. With a fresh vegetable salad and green grapes for dessert they seemed just perfect for a satisfying meal.

This morning was our weekly grocery shopping day. Traffic was just about nonexistent. Many people likely took the entire holiday week between Christmas and New Year's off work. And likely that was a good thing, because driving was a little hazardous. It would have been more so, without the ice tires we have put on the vehicles every winter. As it was, there were some 'exciting' moments when the car slid on ice underlying the snowy surface, and we were thankful that traffic was so sparse.

At -7C, on a damp December morning it was cold, but not intolerably so. It would seem more like 'intolerable' when we were out later in the afternoon on the forest trails with Jackie and Jillie. Those are the same little pups who resorted to heartrending howls as they watched us struggle into warm winter coats before leaving the house to shop. 

When we arrived at the supermarket it was fairly empty, both the parking lot and the store interior. By the time we left an hour or so later both had filled up. We didn't have to wait long to cash out and that was a good thing. The community Food Bank cage was full to bursting with non-perishable foods that shoppers had deposited for others in the community. Long past time for it to be picked up.

We found a handful of items entirely missing, with bare yawning shelves where the products should be. No Crisco vegetable shortening at all. The large tubs I used to buy for making pastry dough are no longer available, only the bricks now, and they were nowhere in evidence, only lard, and that's something I won't use. There were no tins of tomato paste, none at all. I usually buy the house brand when I'm filling up a bag for the Food Bank; soups, beans, spaghetti, canned meats, and they're getting pretty hard to find now, replaced almost entirely with name brands.

Later in the day we went off to the ravine for our daily hike. We were really late entering the ravine yesterday. It took me so long to finish cleaning the house we weren't able to set out until five o'clock and by then dusk had long departed. The forest was so densely dark that my camera viewer showed a black screen, nothing at all to 'click' on, no landscape at all, just dark, dark, dark. Of course our vision is a little more perceptive than a camera's and we had ample light from the sky bouncing off the snow to enable us to manoeuvre the trails we're so familiar with.

Today, heavily overcast, at three in the afternoon dusk was already hovering. By the time we returned home an hour later it was dark. But while we were in the ravine for the most part, it was light, though not 'bright light'. Jackie and Jillie don't mind this cold atmosphere. As long as they're securely tucked into their warmest winter jackets and boots they do just fine. They skip happily about, look here and there, race ahead, bark at other dogs and though we remonstrate with them, their bad habits are deeply engrained.

 We noted when we were out last night an extraordinary amount of woody detritus on the trails. Directly after the worst of the weekend snowstorm we saw no such thing. But on Sunday and then on Monday we were surprised at all the fallen, broken twigs along with still-lively-green-needled pine boughs. The result of the weight of snow and ice that formed when it was raining, then flash-froze, along with the fierce wind gusts; as good a guess as any.

 

Well, it has been cold these past four days while we've been in the throes of a lengthy winter storm that began on Friday and continued on to Sunday. We've been averaging -7C, which by Ottawa winter standards is about right for the month of December. But the  howling winds gusting up to 80km/hr certainly have made it seem colder. And with the incessant snowfalls we've done quite a bit of shovelling.

 

The snow plowing crews have been answering so many calls they can barely keep up. Our driveway was stuffed high with snow yesterday. Usually it's cleaned up by early morning, along with the other houses on the street that contract with the same company. Just as well the combination of snow, wind and snowpiles kept us home yesterday. It would've been quite the effort even to wade through the snow on the driveway, then tackle the road, to get up to the ravine entrance.

 

And we speculated how difficult getting about on the forest trails would be while the storm was raging. It didn't take too much imagination to convince ourselves we'd better give an outing a pass for another day. We'd also missed going out the day before. Dinner last night consisted of hot soup packed with vegetables, grilled cheese sandwiches and blueberries drowned in yogurt. 

 

When we woke this morning it was -7C again, and snow was falling. Lightly at first and then surging to heavier snowfall. After awhile we were incredulous to see the sun come out, lighting up the house, but its presence made no difference to the snow. It just kept falling even while the brilliant sun lit the atmosphere. We decided for French toast for breakfast and that warmed us nicely.

 

We thought it would be a good idea to take advantage of the sun's presence, so an earlier afternoon walk made sense. On our return we could tend to the other things that demanded attention. Because of the wind and the temperature we dressed with a bit more care. Wind like that has a tendency to probe icy fingers through inadequate exterior clothing. Setting out earlier also meant we would avoid encountering the arrival of dusk before we're halfway through our circuit, as usual.

 

We didn't know what to expect. Whether the trails would be passable, given the amount of snow that's come down in the past three days. And whether there would be additional damage to a forest that already suffered more than enough casualties back in May when a derecho passed through, blowing down mature old trees. But we found the trails well tamped down by others who had been through before us. And apart from a few extremely tall, thin trees that did blow down, and plenty of twigs littering the snow, not much damage could be seen.

 

We came across a few other people out to enjoy the sight of a fresh cushion of snow. Most of the snow that would normally, after a snowfall, pack the canopy with thick layers of snow was absent, though. The effect of the wind blasting through everything. The snow that had been plastered all over tree limbs in thick layers of plush from an earlier 40cm storm was also plucked off the trees. Resulting in uneven surfaces where they fell.

 

These were thick layers of both ice and snow and when they fell, new snow tamped them down securely to the forest floor. The result was seen in an uneven surface that twisted and turned ankles making their way along the trails. The constant twists for a prolonged period was felt in  hips and feet afterward. But this is winter, and a fairly typical one, at that.

 

 

There, Jackie and Jillie have had their afternoon salad bowls, I've put on a vegetable soup to cook for dinner, found the pineapple I was planning to cut up for dessert in a state of rot not visible from the exterior, and the snow removal tractors have finally cleared out our driveway. Earlier, when I'd gone out to shovel last night's and the morning's snow, the accumulation was thigh-deep. I shovelled the snow from the garage sills so the tractor could scoop it all up when it eventually arrived. Glad it's done.

 

Sad Waste

Not so glad we've been stuck in the house all day, save for the time when we were out shovelling the walkways in the backyard again, before breakfast. I happened to be the one to take Jackie and Jillie out last thing before going up to bed usually, instead for Irving doing it for a change, and the force of the wind almost knocked me over. Its howling and movement of the snow startled the pups as they marched gingerly through the snowpiles of billowing wind drifts.

 

The strange thing was that this today there seemed to be less snow down on the ground first thing this morning despite hours of overnight snowfall, than I had encountered the night before. While at the front of the house large snowdrifts were deep and steep. It's been -7C all day, but the wind bursts make it seem much colder.

Surprisingly, the municipal plows have done a number of passes on the street. Even as private contractors appear to have been swamped by the sheer size and consistency of never-ending snow. We decided with reluctance there was nothing much to be gained in subjecting ourselves and the puppies to the kind of arduous trek a ravine hike would become if we ventured out to the forest trails today. We might find the effect of the wind reduced by the forest canopy, but the depth of snow massed on top of the ice that formed on the forest floor on Friday when we had rain, sleet and freezing rain, would be no one's idea of a picnic.

Jackie and Jillie don't seem to mind. They don't much like high wind. And trying to make their way as small dogs through a deep accumulation of snow would represent quite a sustained effort for them, as it would for us.  So I used the 'spare time' to catch up on some correspondence and do a few other things I've been putting off for too long. And engaging more afternoon reading.

Irving is busy in his workshop finishing off a stained glass door insert. Both of us feel as though something is missing from the day. Our usual walk in the woods, of course. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Mohindar brought over a festive box full of decorated holiday cookies that Rajinder had baked. This has become a seasonal ritual for Rajinder. Mohindar wished us a Merry Christmas,  Happy Holidays. I reminded him we're Jewish and of course they're Sikh, and we had a good laugh. Irving wasn't home at the time. He had gone out to pick up the part he needed to replace in our snow thrower. So I used that opportunity to get out in his absence, to shovel out the walkways at the front of the house.

We had both gone out earlier in the day, before breakfast to shovel the walkways in the backyard, for Jackie and Jillie to be able to get around with ease. The snow, which has been removed countless times, was about six inches in height, thanks to a snowfall last night. But it wasn't simply snow, since rain succeeded the snow. What we shovelled was snow saturated with freezing rain, and it was heavy.

It's been a dark day with lots of weather activity of all kinds raging around us. This gigantic weather system that stretches across the United States and at least half of Canada has and is bringing with it, unseasonably mild temperatures and unseasonably cold temperatures, along with winds gusting to 70 km/hr and higher, with precipitation falling in the form of freezing rain, sleet, rain, snow pellets, snow, and all kinds of variations in between.

The trees everywhere that had been covered thickly in snow since the last snowstorm a week ago were bared of their snow by the rain and the wind, and soon hoarfrost took the place of snow coating the trees. The streets are mix of slushy ice and snow and rainwater, but the major arteries have been cleared, and Irving had no problems picking up the snowthrower part needed to make the machine workable again. For a relatively new machine it demonstrated a surprising vulnerability in lasting power.

Once I was back in the house again, the usual routine took my attention. I had decided I'd bake something I haven't baked in ages; apple dumplings. They're cored and peeled apples wrapped in a pastry and baked in a cinnamon-butterscotch sauce. Warm or cooled to room temperature they're lovely. Irving will probably have his with a twisted topping of whipped cream.

The weather may be raging outside, but we're comfortable in our house, fireplace taking the icy chill out of the day, soothing our senses, relaxing with Jackie and Jillie. They're snoozing and we're reading books, newspapers, ogling web sites, what-have-you. The irresistible fragrance of dinner -- chicken shoup, chicken thighs in mushroom gravy, is wafting through the house. Outside the snow is swirling in great gusts of wind, and the temperature keeps steadily falling. Much more snow on the way tomorrow.

 

As the hoary old adage goes, 'it never rains but it pours'. referring as an aphorism, not to the weather but of things that can and will and do go wrong. If it's not one thing it's another. And when things do go wrong often enough having addressed the issue you're confronted with another. The snow plowing company that does most of the houses on this street of retirees was remiss this week. Usually, as soon as a municipal plow comes through to clear the street of excessive snow, the end result is that most driveways get blocked with mounds of ice and snow deposited where the end of the driveway meets the street.

 

This tends to be really heavy stuff; a mixture of snow and of ice. Tough to shovel, the kind of shovelling not recommended for elderly folk. The company with the most clients on the street failed to respond as usual by following soon after the plow and cleaning out the driveways. Other, smaller companies with fewer clients were around as expected and did their due diligence in the clearance.

The last time Irving used his snowthrower a few weeks back (for the walkways) he found the chains on the wheels such a nuisance he decided to remove them. One came off easily enough the other was resistant. So he bought a chain snipper from Canadian Tire and went out today to use the snowthrower meaning first to take off the second chain. It was a struggle, but he finally succeeded. And then set about clearing part of the walkways that I hadn't done while shovelling last week.

 

Just as he was finishing up after addressing the long walkway from the front of the house along the side to the backyard, an operating mechanical chain broke and fell off the snowthrower. This is a fairly new machine, bought several years ago and it hasn't seen all that much use. Irving called around some local repair shops and one of them agreed to order the part, and to reinstall it. Meanwhile, there's a storm in the offing predicted to last for at least two days, perhaps three. There's never a good time for things to go awry, but there are some times worse than others.

 

On a sweeter or at least a more savoury note, we enjoyed last night's spaghetti and meatballs. I had given Irving three choices: Shepherd's pie, spaghetti and meatballs, or meatballs in mushroom gravy over kasha. They're all 'favourite' comfort foods for him. But he chose the spaghetti. It's amazing how many pots and pans one simple meal can take. One for the sauce,l another for the spaghetti to cook, another to steam the spinach that accompanied the meal, and a pan for the meatballs, since Irving likes them done separately.

 

A little earlier than usual we decided to hustle out to the ravine for our afternoon hike, uncertain whether the storm might start earlier than nighttime. It didn't, but we did get out earlier and so enjoyed more light than on previous hikes of late. Days will now begin to lengthen in increments of mere seconds a day. but one can hopefully imagine noting a (delusional wishful-thinking) difference already.

 

The storm we've been told to expect will ruin a lot of people's plans for Christmas travel, Airports will be chaotic, the upheaval in expectation versus practical reality adding an exciting (as in stressful) note that most people would prefer not to happen. Travel on highways won't be much better; people are already being cautioned to stay off the roads. The temperature is expected to rise to make it likelier that precipitation will come down as freezing rain, not snow. But then in days following it will drop again so a flash-freeze will erupt. Later again,  volumes of snow expected. A little bit to a lot of everything.

 

 

A week today our younger son is scheduled to fly out from Vancouver to spend a week with us. There are no flights entering or flying out of Vancouver right now. They've been hit with a mighty snowstorm. Canada's West Coast is experiencing an odd winter season this year; colder and snowier than usual, by far. Whereas we in Eastern Canada where it's usually bone-chilling cold and snow piles up the entire season, have been experiencing a somewhat milder winter so far with less snow than usual.

Today is the shortest day of the year, and the first official day of winter. The temperature high for today is just 0C but it's damp and it feels much colder. Which means that I'll be carrying on with the comfort food selections. Yesterday's eggplant-tomato-sauce-cheese dish was just perfect. And Irving suggested for dinner tonight a meal that has quite a few similarities; Spaghetti and meatballs, with spinach on the side. Jackie and Jillie will appreciate the meatballs portions they're allotted.

We went out to the ravine a little earlier than the last several days, planning to beat early dusk setting in when the dark shade of night snaps down so quickly afterward. We were actually able to see a brief appearance of sun -- just as it was withdrawing behind the horizon -- which is to say behind the tree line seen through the forest canopy. The contrasts between the snowy landscape with its monochromatic black-and-white and the fiery ball of the sun made for an interesting canvas.

Often, when we're out in the ravine tramping the trails, Irving likes to keep up a running one-way conversation. On Saturday he happened to see two obituaries. He made no mention of them to me then, but he did today, while we were in the ravine.  They were of two men he knew rather well when he was still in the workforce. He interacted with them often in the last decade of his working life on a fairly regular basis.

They were both good at what they did as government bureaucrats, knowledgeable and a credit to the departments they worked within. He liked them both, thought very well of them, but one in particular most impressed him and they enjoyed a good relationship. He was only partially shocked at the death of this man. He felt that as a conscientious, hard-working, reliable and devoted civil servant he had been treated badly by his department after he had revealed irregularities amounting to downright fraud. They effectively neutered him, leaving him a crushed man with no option but to resign.

What he discussed with me as we walked through the forest was a kind of review of his own working life at that time with the last of the four different government departments he had been employed in through his career. Many of the issues he described I can recall, and he elaborated on others. Thinking of his two former work colleagues and their collegial relationship brought back thoughts of his own experiences, which made for a lively shared conversation. Everything takes on a different complexion when you look back over the years.

In the here and now, however, as we strode through the snowy landscape with our two little pups, we kept being accosted by other dogs, in singles and in pairs, all of whom dropped by to say hello, how're you doing, got any cookies? Irving is very conscious of the potential of these encounters and takes great care to make certain he has enough fuel with him when we set out to satisfy the needs of hungry dogs on winter afternoons in the forest.

It's a week since I bought an eggplant, meaning to make a casserole with it. One thing or another intervened, other ideas for dinner that took the place of the eggplant casserole. But the eggplant looks just as fresh as when it was bought, so that's the menu for tonight. Last night we had a roasted Cornish game hen, and I had put a few baby fingerling potatoes in with it although I also baked a noodle pudding to accompany it along with green beans. It made for a very good meal, but it's the eggplant casserole that really excites my anticipatory taste buds.

When we left the house early this morning to do the weekly food shopping there were more cars on the road than we could recall of late. The federal government is finally recalling civil servants to the office but that won't take effect until after the holidays. So it's hard to imagine why so many people were out other than on frantic Christmas shopping expeditions, since it's getting pretty close to the big day. 

The parking lot was close to empty when we arrived at the supermarket, but by the time we left an hour later it was packed. It'll be like this until after traditional Boxing Day, now elongated to a week and more. What I do really appreciate is that people are responding generously to the needs of others in the community whose incomes have suffered over the past few years. Collections for the Food Bank have boomed. It's the sign of a socially conscious community,

Time seems to telescope, somehow, there's never enough hours in a day. How did we ever manage everything while we were still in the outside workforce, when we spent so little time at home during the working week, and still got everything done? Most days we would head out to the ravine as soon as we arrived back home from work. True, hiking the trails took less of our time since we were younger and more energetic, but it's still a mystery.

We were so occupied yesterday with house cleaning it wasn't until five -- pretty late for us these days -- that we got out for our ravine hike. Mind, it takes close to a half hour to prepare ourselves. Dressing ourselves and Jackie and Jillie. They wear their jackets, their halters, and it takes time to stretch their little boots over their tiny paws. And getting our own boots on, adjusting the cleats takes time as well.  

  

It was already dark yesterday when we entered the confines of the forest.  Thanks to the thick snow cover there was still ample reflected light to enable us to see our way around the trails. A low, heavy cloud cover meant we couldn't take advantage of light from the city reflecting on the clouds and creating light in the ravine as often happens, but we had no trouble getting around in the dark; familiarity helps.

We were a half hour earlier entering t he ravine today and that makes a difference. Dusk had already set in and dark wasn't long to follow. We're in the throes of short daylight hours, after all. Tomorrow marks not only the official calendar entrance of winter, but also the shortest day of the year. After which in tiny increments daylight hours will begin lengthening, by seconds every day. In a few months' time we'll begin to see the difference, with longer days.

 

Looking out the front door this morning at the accumulation of snow from Friday-Saturday's prolonged snowstorm, we were glad that all the shovelling was done. We'd had enough of it yesterday. But it certainly goes a long way to making winter look more like winter. The exquisite appearance of snow thickly embroidering every surface is one anyone can appreciate for its sheer aesthetic beauty.

 

 

These are the days that on our return from a  hiking expedition through the snowy woods there is no match for the promising fragrance of soup simmering on the stove, welcoming us back into the house as we begin to shed our boots, mittens, toques, and coats. We hasten to remove Jackie's and Jillie's boots even before that. 

 

 

This morning Jackie and Jillie decided that they'd like to have pancakes for breakfast. And that's what they had. Of course they also had yogurt, kibble, melon as well. We skipped the yogurt, we had it with blueberries for last night's dessert. But we did have melon and banana to start our breakfast, and enjoyed pancakes right along with the puppies. I like my pancakes unadorned, Irving likes his with maple syrup.

 

No wind today, and a blue sky, so the house warmed up nicely throughout the early part of the day thanks to the brilliant sun. And then heavy, low-hanging clouds moved back in for the afternoon. Auguring more snow to come, perhaps starting overnight. The municipal plows had been out and finally cleared up the roads, leaving thick, dense piles of snow at either side of the street, and across the end of driveways. More shovelling.

 

Ours is a street where most of the households are comprised of retirees. People who have more time to do mundane things like shovelling. On the other hand, these are people who are too old and susceptible to chronic illnesses or accidents caused by too vigorous physical activities when they're not in robust shape, so at least half the households contract with snow removal companies to have their driveways cleared by tractor.

 

Our ravine hike this afternoon was mostly in a dusky atmosphere. The trees remain thickly plastered with snow. Unlike light, dry snow that is prone to slipping off tree branches at the slightest whisper of wind, This kind of snow that came down yesterday is compressed and wet and it tends to stick. It takes a lot more energy to clamber up the hillsides now. That's the negative aspect, the positive is that the more energy dispensed, the warmer you feel against the cold.

 

It hasn't been cold the past several days however since the temperature is just hovering around the freezing mark. But when it's also damp, a cold element creeps in, helped by ambient wind. In these circumstances it's about as perfect as it can be to get out into the winter woods to enjoy the sight of a wintry, snowy landscape, expending energy and feeling comfortable in the doing of it.

 

And you never know who you might come across. People who want to halt their trek briefly to chat, dogs that recognize your presence and give you the most pleasant of greetings in canine language. And little skits that tend to play out when friendly dogs invite one another to tumbles and tussles in the snow, racing about in the sheer joy of life's adventures.