Last week when we did our weekly food shopping we found quite a few empty shelves. A strange feeling, that. items as mundane as bell peppers and green onions were not to be had. Bananas so hard and intensely dark green you wondered if they'd ever ripen. Yawning empty shelves awaiting food deliveries and you know the supply chain hasn't yet recovered. Today, everything looked normal and there was nothing that we usually look for that we couldn't find. The supermarket was strangely empty of shoppers, even for the early morning hour.

Before we left the house Jackie was moping. Jillie wasn't thrilled but she's more practical than he is. It's a mystery to us how they detect that we'll be leaving before breakfast. Our routine up to that point is the same as it is every morning. So what is it that informs our two little imps that they'll be on their own for an hour or so? Usually Jackie trots after me expectantly at a certain point when the breakfast table has been set. It's when I slice cheese from a large block and snap it into little pieces to dole out for them pre-breakfast. Jillie was there, Jackie was inconsolable; no cheese, thank  you.

When we returned home it was a toss-up between leaping all around us, insisting on being commiserated with, fussed over, and peering into the large boxes containing the food we've returned with. Jackie is mostly concerned with cauliflower and is prepared to begin tearing pieces off the head, if he can locate it. Irving takes charge of the cauliflower, cutting away the green and stem for storage in the refrigerator vegetable drawer, and handing out florets to the puppies.

After breakfast Irving threads a few needles for me, enabling me to finally, after interminable procrastination, repair the cushion-back of the large sofa in the family room that Jackie managed some time ago to rip open. There was also a few items of clothing that have been awaiting mending since forever, and today was the day I had resolved to solve the shabby appearance of the sofa that we take pains not to notice.

Later, we went off to the ravine on yet another temperature-mild, but windy day. We'd had rain yesterday that turned to light overnight snow, but we've been alerted by Environment Canada that we'll finally be transitioning to much colder temperatures and another winter snowstorm will enter the landscape tomorrow.

We had a pleasant hour or so roaming about the forest trails. Everything remains cushioned with snow. The trails are in fine shape for hiking. It seemed much colder than what the thermometer registered, given an icy wind blasting through the landscape. We'd had a brief acquaintance with the sun early in the morning, but by afternoon the sky was fully overcast again.

On our return home I took out of the cupboard a beautiful blue pottery flan pan that Jordan had made for me years ago, that hasn't had very much use. I had decided to use it today, to bake a zucchini, eggplant, tomato combination. The Internet is an invaluable source of recipe ideas and I saw one a few days back that looked intriguing. I just took those elements of the recipe that appealed, added a few twists of my own, and we'll give it a try tonight. It will certainly be different from last night's Cornish game hen, noodle pudding and spinach dinner. 

The colourful shape of vegetables assembled to begin putting together a dinner casserole is worth a picture on its own. The rich colours, the smooth textures, the sensuous shapes are all appealing. As your mind plays with the ingredients and the order of preparation, you automatically internalize the 'fragrance of the vegetables cooking, well before that becomes a reality; it's part of the pleasure of handling whole foods.

How fortunate we are to have such abundance of nutritional, well-grown and cared for basic foodstuffs at our disposal. How fortunate we are to have access to it all, to make our choices, to plan meals and to savour their goodness, all of which adds immeasurably to both our mental and physical well-being.