Not all meals are necessarily planned ahead, so it's good to have some standbys to call upon occasionally. Yesterday was one of those occasions. It had been a busy day. And we felt slightly disconcerted that we weren't able to get out for a turn in the ravine with the puppies. You might say we decided on a kind of festively creative meal, a collaborative affair where we both pitch in. Even Jackie and Jillie helped, obligingly gobbling up anything that might 'accidentally' hit the floor, like a piece of bell pepper or tomato, or even a slice of pepperoni.

Today was an unusual day in that we had an appointment. I prefer to avoid all such events, but this one could no longer be put off. I made no effort myself to effect the appointment, but Irving as always took the initiative and decided it could no longer be put off. My eyesight has really been deteriorating badly. It's been happening for a while and I knew the cause, just didn't want to be bothered.

I'd had a vitrectomy a dozen years ago to repair a hole in the vitreous of my left eye, and it hadn't worked, though it does in 80% of such surgeries. It's the opposite eye that enables me to read. And that left eye underwent cataract surgery about five years ago. Now it was time for the right eye to undergo similar treatment. 

Neither of us has seen a medical practtioner for the past three years, and that suited us just fine. But this was inevitable, and had to be looked after. I was shown a photograph of my eye with the cataract; it was quite advanced. The doctor and I discussed my options. Getting the surgery done at The Ottawa Hospital as was done before would take a year. Having it done at a private clinic could be accommodated within a month.

I'd told the doctor that I wasn't impressed with the factory-like conveyor belt of patients undergoing the surgery in a patient-and-doctor-crowded operating theatre. That's universal medicare. Done at the private clinic there would be a $2K charge that OHIP wouldn't pay for. So wait a year for the factory treatment or under a month for private care. In a year with the cataract progressing, I wouldn't be doing any reading. As it is I'm experiencing huge difficulty.

An hour later when we arrived home there was a call from the clinic for my first appointment in a week's time. There's another upside to getting it done at the private clinic. The surgeon who had performed my first cataract surgery at the hospital, now operates out of this clinic, and he will be doing this surgery for me, a second time.

My eyes were blurry from the drops applied to enlarge my pupils. So I wore sunglasses when we took the puppies out to the ravine later in the day. On our way we spoke for a while with our long-time neighbour across the street. She's busy looking after her first grandchild, a beautiful little boy. Her daughter-in-law, the child's mother has just lately been diagnosed with an advanced cancer.

We shed all of that when we enter the ravine. Which was a balancing feat unto itself. Yesterday's snowfall had been voluminous and the municipal plough had built a ridge of compressed snow over the trail entrance, so it took a bit of maneuvering before we were able to access the trailhead. As soon as they're unleashed our two little imps race downhill, and immediately race back up to where Irving usually gives them their first little cookie.

Along with the snow yesterday strong winds had whipped the snow everywhere, creating whiteouts for most of the day. Which served to clear much of the snow off the forest trees but for the evergreens that tend to hold on to their snow blankets more jealously and firmly than the hardwoods. We could feel and see ourselves hiking over an elevated snowpack. Ample numbers of people had been in before us, to semi-flatten the snow on the trails, so it wasn't as difficult for us taking advantage of that, as it surely was for those entering the forest yesterday while the storm was in progress.

Being out there in the forest among the sleeping trees comforted by a smooth, billowing layer of snow is restful and mind-calming. We could, though, empathize with how an owl was feeling with an anything-but-serene-mind, being mercilessly harassed by a group of crows circling and cawing madly as the crows confronted their existential enemy. A raptor confronted by omnivores, themselves birds of prey but not in the same class.