Just as this past November didn't give us typical November weather, so far with the entry of December we're into incognito weather again. Hard to believe it's December when successive days of above normal temperatures twice in a week brought us days-full of pounding rain with high winds. We'd be buried under a mountain of snow had the precipitation fallen as snow, not rain. Nature doubtless thinks we're just being grumpy about her choices, and possibly she's right.

Had she chosen snow instead of rain we'd be deep in the frozen stuff, bitterly complaining about all the shovelling forced upon us, and miserable about traffic backups and being forced to drive with extreme caution to avoid accidents. We're non-paying tenants within her personal sphere yet we find ample to complain about -- little wonder she doesn't really care how her choices affect us.

 

Our neighbours have the right idea; they're ignoring the weather and welcoming the season. Most of our neighbours who put up Christmas lights defiantly, in the absence of snow, flick on those switches for their coloured, blinking lights to perform regardless. The result is a cheerful aura, the ringleader of the events a giant snowman holding court up the street, and across the street Santa is preparing for his myriad deliveries.

 

Another overcast day today, but at least no more rain, for the present. Mind, it's cold enough today that if rain fell it would quickly turn to snow. In the absence of snow the sullen, drab atmosphere of pre-winter landscapes prevail. The garden looks pretty grim. The forest looks lost with itself. We really do need a visual aesthetic pick-me-up. Before long, people will begin worrying about the approach of Christmas and the horrendous prospect of a snowless Christmas.

 

Because it was so overcast, we decided to venture out to the ravine with Jackie and Jillie a bit earlier than usual. Irving has been busy with the three pairs of new lined jeans he had bought for winter. He is busy shortening and sewing up the pant leg hems himself, refusing to allow me to do it, telling me I have enough work to do and he's perfectly capable of doing the sewing himself. This isn't new, he's been doing this for years. As clumsy as my fingers are now, I still would prefer to do that kind of thing myself.

 

Because we missed our ravine hike yesterday, we took a longer circuit to ensure Jackie and Jillie made up for lost exercise, and they seemed perfectly amenable. Despite all the rain of the day before the trails had hardened back to dry-frost condition and the going was fine. The wind was so fierce throughout the day yesterday as it accompanied the rain it seems to have prevented any moisture sitting about in puddles on the forest floor. At 0C, it wasn't that cold out, but when we returned our faces felt pretty frozen.

 

Once back home, I put on a bean-and vegetable soup for dinner and rolled out bread dough I'd prepared and refrigerated on Friday, to prepare croissants to accompany the soup. This soup was cooked with mixed dried pulses that don't need overnight soaking. Leek, jalapeno pepper, garlic clove, celery, sweet potato and tomato went into the soup for flavour and texture. 

 

Before we had left the forest at the completion of our circuit, the skies cleared and we could see the sun through the forest canopy just beginning to set on the horizon. Dusk hadn't yet entered, thanks to the presence of a light-filled sky and the fact that it was just a few minutes after three in the afternoon. But by the time I was finished putting dinner together, the dark of deep night had closed in.