My hearing is not as acute as Irving's. Yesterday he asked if I could hear a mysterious faint, high-pitched whine running through the family room. I heard nothing, though I strained to hear. We wondered if it was the fireplace. Something in the chimney. It could only be heard in the family room, or on the upstairs balcony over the room. Nothing in any other room. Finally it occurred to us it might be the hi-fi computer modum. It sits on top of an armoire where my desktop computer is installed.

 

 

So this morning Irving called Bell, spoke to a representative, and arranged to have them send us a replacement, and we'll return this one that we've had for the last eight years or so. The sound irritates him, but is beyond my hearing. We wondered whether the puppies could hear that constant high-pitched shrill whistle but they don't appear to be bothered by anything awry.

 

 

It's another balmy day, where the temperature edged up to 1C, quite a difference from last week-end's -30C. Yesterday's rain had kept us indoors although Jackie and Jillie don't seem any the worse for having missed a day of hiking through the forest. We'd make it up to them today. In the backyard we can see a difference in the snowpack. There's several feet of snow on the garden shed roofs, but now you can now see the layers from subsequent snowfalls as a result of shrinkage. The cedars have finally shed their snow load. The backyard pathways are being reduced of snow.

 

Busying myself in the kitchen, I decided to bake a cheesecake. They're quick and easy to do. Just the two steps, a few ingredients for the crust, and the filling with its few ingredients for a rich and creamy interior. Once I've prebaked the crust, I always sprinkle a few white chocolate chips over it before pouring the filling over and putting it back into the oven. 

I put together a bread dough and it'll await use on Sunday, refrigerated and ready to  roll out for croissants to accompany a Sunday soup. Little kitchen short-cuts that work well for me. And I put on a chicken soup to simmer for hours. The chicken that makes the soup will provide additional protein for Jackie and Jillie for the coming weekdays.

 

We understood quite quickly when we entered the ravine that this would be a hike of tough going. A slog, as our boots sunk into melting snow. In these conditions your feet tend to slide in all directions and there's always the chance of twisting an ankle. It's also fairly tiring, that old cadence of one step forward, two backward -- or sideways -- and recovery of balance. It's an additional energy challenge.

 

Of course yesterday's rain combined with three days of unexpectedly mild temperatures has resulted in a swollen creek moving turbulently, swiftly downstream. Even before we reached the bottom of the ravine we could smell the creek. The air was unpleasantly redolent of sulphur and it stinks. What causes it is the roiling of the water on the floor of the stream as it rushes through, disturbing the creek bottom and awakening methane gas.

But it's great to be out there, for the puppies and for us. The landscape is always appealing, always different, always beckoning. Today's weather left little to be desired; overcast, a little windy, and mild. Whatever snow does melt won't be long in returning with new snowstorms, some slight, some significant, restoring the winter snowpack. We've got two months left to go in this region's winter season.