Irving enjoys getting a break from the house far more than I do. He becomes restless often and decides to go out for one reason or another. Yesterday he needed to pick up a prescription, and while he was out he did what he most enjoys; shopped. He brought home a zillion-seed bread for the evening's grilled cheese sandwhich to go alongside the vegetable soup simmering on the stove. Two bags of cooking carrots because he ran out of carrots for our visiting wild rabbit. Two bags of navel oranges to join the half-dozen already in the refrigerator, and two containers of nuts; one mixed, one of cashews, my favourite.

 

Oh, and because they were on sale, two long-sleeved sweaters, and three sleeveless summer ones, for me. He thought that would cheer me up because I hadn't been feeling quite myself the past several days. I most certainly felt cheered up. That's so typical of him. Enveloped by a warm feeling of gratitude in thankfulness that you're so valued and cared for is an undeniable cheer-up mechanism.

 

And then, because I hadn't noticed it, he turned my attention to what was happening out-of-doors. We'd had a really pleasant hike through the ravine hours earlier. One of those spring-is-in-the-air type of days, with a mild temperature of 3C, light wind albeit overcast. But when I looked out I saw a howling wind and blizzard conditions, snow flying everywhere. Totally unexpected. But then, the weather is notoriously unpredictable here.

 

The temperature had fallen below freezing by the time we went up to bed, and it was snowing again when Jackie and Jillie last went out. Bare areas on the walkway in front of the porch were once again snow-covered. When we came down first thing this morning, a  howling wind and freezing temperature of -7C greeted us. So I decided to put the sun back into Sunday, cutting up and sectioning two large oranges for breakfast alongside a smiling banana.

 

That must have inspired nature to change her tempestuous mind, for before long out came the sun. The clouds had decamp0ed and the sun rode high and bright in the sky and remained there for the rest of the day. So that when we went out with Jackie and Jillie for our afternoon hike through the ravine, the bare forest canopy allowed the sun at its new angle, to shine right through the forest. It was glorious, despite the lingering chill.

 

Not many people out on the trails; we saw none, in fact. But one of Jackie and Jillie's friends did come by for a visit, responding to Jillie's interminable barking when she senses someone else around. That's the signal for any dogs familiar with us to come running in anticipation of cookie handouts. 

Jackie and Jillie were bundled into their heaviest winter coats and little black rubber boots against the return of icy weather. When we arrived back home they romped and rumbled about everywhere chasing after one another, barking happily in anticipation of their usual vegetable salad treat post-ravine hike. Before we had left the house I put on a lentil-bean vegetable soup to begin cooking in our absence. I had chopped up a celeriac root for a change to put into the soup, and gave them each a slender stick of it. They were puzzled and declined; not their usual fare.