We've been talking about, and looking at some of our old maps and mountain guides for trails that won't present too much of a physical/endurance challenge to us in our upcoming trip. There are all the old familiar trails we've visited over the years, some of which we can still manage, others that will remain a memory. The anticipation of returning to our old haunts is growing, and we're looking forward to the trip. There's so much we've got to prepare for, not the least of which is ensuring that Jackie and Jillie will be comfortable.

 

 

For them as well as for us a suite of coverings, from blankets to raincoats to towels (for them, not for us) and of course their food and their treats. They'll no doubt recognize both where we've made reservations and most of the trails we'll be taking them on. We can anticipate that it will be as much a challenge and pleasure for them as it will be for us. And that challenge of course includes the long drive to arrive at our destination.

 

 

We've checked the 10-day forecast and it looks as though we won't be encountering any awkward weather patterns. Lots of warm days and sun, and a few days of rain, all of which is fairly normal. And we'll be seeing our old friends from whom we rent the various cottages we've stayed at over the years. 

 

For now, our hiking remains with what we're truly most familiar with, right here at home. And today's fine weather sent us out with Jackie and Jillie to take advantage of it. As usual when they see me doing my brief exercises prior to changing into my hiking clothing they become excited, racing back and forth after one another, leaping here and there, scattering area rugs and practising for their romp in the forest.

 

 

While they're active enough out on the forest trails, they rarely break out in a frenetic series of calisthenics such as we see at home. Partly it's because the many intriguing smells captivate their noses inviting them off trail to investigate where those irresistible fragrances -- that if we were able to smell them would likely be anything but attractive -- are coming from. 

 

Down by the forest creek the wildflowers too are enjoying the weather, basking in the sun, the soil in which their roots are fixed, nicely moist from the expansive rainfalls of yesterday. It's kind of odd that the singular plant that affects so many people, the common ragweed, is the very plant that exudes the most delightful fragrance. Wildflowers like evening primrose, with its beautiful name and lovely blossoms and the Black-eyed Susans and Himalayan orchids seem to give off no perfume at all that we can detect, though they make up for that lack with their colour and beauty.

 

Back home again, to peruse the gardens, and assess what's different and what needs attention. It's a little landscape we're well familiar with and never tire of observing. It's hard to believe, actually, that our efforts over the years, have created this garden with a whole lot of help from nature who sent along her elements to help shape all the trees and shrubs and coddle the perennials that keep returning year after year following the harsh winters that put everything to sleep underground.

How the Internet has changed our lives! The distribution and dissemination of news from so many sources, mostly legacy news outlets, so there's no excuse for anyone not to be well informed. Shopping now doesn't necessarily mean going out to a physical location, when shopping can be done remotely from home, and packages delivered in record time. Communication now doesn't depend on facing others directly; we have messaging apps that allow us to send greetings and updates to people at any time.

We ordered fair trade green unroasted coffee beans from a source we've been using for decades two days ago and today the beans arrived. Of course they have to be roasted, and Irving roasts as much as he needs for a week each time. Only this time he'll be roasting extra, so he'll have enough for our trip. We've got a long, well-used list of what has to be done before we leave, what to take with us, and steps to take to ensure that all is well in our absence. Our neighbours will be aware, and they look out for us.

We discovered today, although it should have occurred to us yesterday, why it was that the shelves were so bare at the supermarket when we did our weekly shopping. The chain responsible for the store we shop at is facing labour unrest. The union voted to strike (UNIFOR) and the stores have been shut down at the head office site of Toronto. The union is negotiating for improved wages among other things. And as part of their strike the union has led blockades of the chain's warehouses. Mystery cleared up.

We thought, when the sun came out this morning after an early morning heavy rainfall, that the sky was ready to clear. The sun was just teasing us. We had quite a sound-and-light show throughout the night with a series of violent thunderstorms. At least the storms strike at the right time, while we're in bed. By the time we were ready to go out with Jackie and Jillie for our regular hike through the forest, the sky was heavily overcast and it looked as though we'd have a cloudburst at any time. But luck was with us, a pleasant hike through the forest, and no rain.

Of course when we returned back home afterward the sky cleared, and out came the sun. But we felt we were once again lucky to evade rain while enjoying a ravine circuit through the forest. Bees and wasps are busy alighting on the wildflowers thriving in this perfect growing atmosphere for vegetation. The forest was well inundated, the creek was running oddly low, and muddy where we would have expected to see it thrashing and full, and rainwater-clear.

Unlike yesterday during our trek through the trails when there was a dearth of ripe berries, there were ample available to be plucked and relished by Jackie and Jillie. Yet no matter how many they're given and gulp down, along with the occasionally cookie that Irving doles out to them while we're out, they're eager and expectant when we return home, to be given their usual treat of chopped fresh vegetables. And that's when they rush about after one another, playing robust games of wrestling in their exuberance, until I plunk down their little vegetable salads.

Irving noticed that the driver's side mirror of our neighbour Melanie's vehicle had smashed. This was a few weeks back. He offered to fix it for her, explaining he'd had the same thing happen a year ago and replaced the mirror himself. He just needed some mirror glass to cut to pattern size and he'd fix it up. The cost from the dealer for a replacement is $500, she discovered, so she agreed. She bought an inexpensive mirror-tray from a dollar store and Irving took the mirror out of the tray, marked it to size, cut it and glued it to the mirror platform, fixing it in place securely with silicone.  He's never at a loss for inspiration.

We've been neighbours for decades, back when Melanie's younger son wasn't yet born and her older was reaching his teens. The latter is now married with a little boy of his own, and Melanie is his daytime caregiver, so she has her hands full. Her husband Mustafa isn't seen about much the last several years, he's coping with an incurable cancer and is managing to hold his own thanks to very specific treatment that has set back secondary cancer spread. And then her daughter-in-law was diagnosed with cancer and is undergoing treatment. Melanie is a strong, capable woman, tireless and undiscouraged.

When we went out this afternoon to the ravine for our daily gad-about with the puppies, we discovered the presence of a survey crew, a private company. We have come across survey crews on the rare occasion over the years, with the Rideau Valley Conservation Authority which oversees the geology of the region. The ravine can be fairly unstable under the 'right'/wrong conditions as we discovered years back when serious slumps hit the hillsides taking down the hillside forest.

Although we came across a survey point and equipment, we saw no one taking measurements while we were out. What we did see was a pair of beautiful young teens, sitting on the abutment under one of the bridges. The girls had left their bicycles leaning against trees further down one of the slopes and were quietly enjoying watching the creek slip by under them. We saw them again later when they decamped to reclaim their bicycles.

A warm and sunny day, it looks as though we've left the cooler temperatures behind temporarily. And because it was warm, the bees were out in droves, making the most of the blooming wildflowers. It's quite delightful watching them flit from one flower to another after briefly alighting to gather pollen. Jackie and Jillie pay their presence no mind, but it's entertaining watching them in purposeful, single-minded motion.

Today the berry picking was scarce. Just enough to whet the puppies' appetites. There are tons of berries left to ripen, all in good time. We discovered that Jackie will eat blackberries if they're a little soft. When they're ripe and firm, it's Jillie who prefers them and Jackie who will discard them. Only one in a myriad of ways that they're unalike. 

Later, we went out to do the food shopping, early enough that the supermarket wasn't crowded, which is how we prefer it to be. We were surprised, however, to find a lot of empty shelves. Not so much the fresh produce which we were thankful for, but other items, like the dairy counter with great gaps of empty space where orange juice, cottage cheese, eggs and other food items usually are available. 

 

It seems unfair. Indoor space is away from nature. It is the place where we reign. Though we're an inextricable part of nature's biology, we choose to isolate ourselves in buildings designed to provide us with safety from the elements. And truth to tell, separation from others of our kind. It is where we live our daily, intimate lives and have no wish to share them with strangers. And nor do we take kindly to the intrusion of other biological specimens that bear no resemblance to us.

 

Creatures that fly, squirm, wiggle, creep, and on occasion make their way into our sanctum sanctorum. They annoy us. Their presence is unwanted. Not only are they unsightly in an interior, they have the potential of destruction. Either of fabrics, or the materials of which our homes are constructed, or the food we store. Some are capable of carrying bacteria we would prefer to avoid. In some instances they can become a risk to health.

 

On the other  hand, when we are out-of-doors, particularly in a natural wild environment, or even, in this particular instance, in our gardens, coming into contact with creatures of the natural world can charm us as seeing chipmunks, rabbits, squirrels, mice and others may do, while others can alarm us with their presence. And then there are insects; wasps build their nests in the most unexpected places, in one of your trees and  you hadn't noticed until you one day backed into it. Other creatures take a liking to the roots of the grass in the lawn you've painstakingly babied for years.

 

And now, to the crux of the matter; who knew that ants could be so destructive? In the house, yes, making a beeline and leaving a trail for others toward unprotected food. But in the garden? Yes, there too. Claiming a garden bed as their own kingdom, and demonstrating such by destroying all that you've so carefully planted. You've tolerated it as long as you intend to, but year by year the colony grows and destroys more of the garden. And you're fed up. So the solution is to dissuade them. Since they won't listen to lectures, they'll respond to something more powerful than the baking soda you've tried.

 

On a more cheerful note, yet another beautiful day with full sun, not too hot, not too cool and a moderating breeze. After the work of house cleaning it was time to take Jackie and Jillie and ourselves off to the ravine for our afternoon outing in the ravine. As natural and wild an environment that anyone could hope to access and find pleasure in, anywhere. And for us a leisurely stroll up the street takes us to the entrance of the ravine. The descent of the first slope takes us deep into the forest.

 

And there the well-scrubbed air fills our lungs, the sight of rampant wildflowers fills our eyes, the sound of robins, cardinals and chickadees, woodpeckers, crows and nattering squirrels fills our ears. There too the antics of two little black dogs in their perambulations and sniffing-fests here and here fills us with pleasure and occasionally laughter.

In the ravine, the sight of bees and dragonflies, butterflies and wasps informs us of a healthy natural environment. Imparting health to us as well, through exposure to its atmosphere and the opportunity to stride along its many trails, uphill and down, through the density of forest and the occasional bit of meadow.

 

 

 

We got a little carried away earlier in the week on a visit to a plant nursery when the sight of beautiful mature perennials on sale late in the season gripped us, propelling a take-home of six pots that would have to be planted sometime soon. Yesterday the process began, making room in an already overcrowded garden for new specimens. Two hibiscus shrubs and two rose-of-Sharon, a pot bursting with echincea and another, more modest one of dianthus.

 

 

To make room for some of our choices we stringently thinned out an old hydrangea that had spread its roots to take over a much larger part of the garden than it was meant to, originally. A lot of muscle power, digging and rooting about in the soil was required to accomplish that, and I was happy to have the help of my masculine counterpart. I love it when we work together. And Jackie and Jillie finally have learned -- to a degree -- to behave themselves if they want to be outside at the front of the house with us.

 

 

Irving decided after breakfast that he would plant the specimens that hadn't been put into the soil yesterday. So I went out with him, and together we got the job done. Not quite as easy as simply digging holes and planting our treasures. We found a trench in the garden where we had cleared away part of the hydrangea. And since we had several bags of potting soil sitting in the garden shed out back, they were used to fill in and amend the soil.

 

 

When a proper depth was reached in which to seat each of the plants, in went a half cupful of  bonemeal and over it lots of fresh water. Once the water settled, we placed each plant and filled the area around them with soil, tamped them down, and admired our handiwork. Finally, we got the job done. By then the sun had moved directly overhead and it seemed pretty hot though it was a relatively cool day. In fact, yet another perfect late summer day.

 

Later, in the ravine, we realized that wasps had gathered. They were everywhere, competing with the bees, seeking out nectar and pollen on the ample wildflowers blooming throughout the pollinating meadow and alongside the forest creek. Usually we see a few bees on single plants. But on and around a type of aster that is the last to bloom of the various types and when it does it's completely covered with a multitude of tiny flowers, there was a veritable platoon of wasps.

 

We noted a half-consumed wild apple on one of the trails. All around the half-eaten apple were tiny bits of the red apple peel; clearly discarded by a discriminating squirrel that preferred the apple flesh unadulterated by peel. And on the discarded apple, flesh half upward, was a wasp obviously delighted to find such an available source of sweet treat.

 

All the flying insects were viewed with disinterest by Jackie and Jillie, as long as we were out in the forest. Any flies or other flying insects that happen to make their way into the house, however, are cause for alarm. We try to dispatch them as and if we can; the best way is if they linger on the screen to the sliding doors and we can usher them outside. Jackie and Jillie try to leap up to where they sit on the screen or on the glass, in a hysterical effort of elimination. It's worse if a fly appears in our bedroom at bedtime; Jackie is slightly disconcerted, but Jillie becomes frightened and runs off.

 

 

Just as well none of the wasps lingered on either of them. We did find one on Irving's sleeve. It  happened he was wearing a bright red hoodie, and likely the colour attracted the wasp, just as the red peel of the apple might have done. They can certainly be a nuisance. They're more persistent than bees. Bees would never try to appropriate a sweet beverage or piece of fruit someone happens to be enjoying out on a patio; wasps do that.

 

The fresh air, the ambient warmth, the bright light of the afternoon sun, the beautiful wildflowers, all slow down our perambulation, as we stop to point things out to one another, and Irving invariably picks ripe thimbleberries and blackberries for Jackie and Jillie. They've learned to be ultra-attentive to what is happening on shrubs their sharp little noses recognize for the fragrance of sweet ripe berries.

Today turned out an outdoor day. Which is to say, more outdoors than usual, to some degree. The weather made that an irresistible option. So did the fact that we had no other pressing options waiting on us. We had bought a few shrubs, mature and beautiful, from more echinacea plants to several varieties of hibiscus with the intention of planting them. Eventually, at any event, no big hurry.

I wanted first to prepare the garden to receive them, and the garden is pretty crowded, so room had to be made for them. Our old Annabelle hydrangeas that I've given neighbours roots of over the years, have a habit of spreading and encroaching on the areas allocated to other plants, and I had in mind to trim them back. I even dreamed about it, my mind working overtime on trying to figure out where they were to be placed, the result of a spur-of-the-moment extravagance.

No rain in the forecast for a change, a cool and heavily overcast day with the occasional sun breaking through, just perfect for working in the garden. So before we went out with Jackie and Jillie for our afternoon turn in the forest, I did some tidying up in the backyard. Starting with the hard-to-reach area behind the larger of our two garden sheds, where weeds love to lurk. Our old corkscrew hazel tree that had suffered so badly from an infestation of Japanese beetles feeding on it a few years back had taken to shooting out straight branches from the trunk. I've been cutting them back for years.

I trimmed the peonies, since they're long since bloomed and cutting them back now at summer's end gives me a leg-up on clearing away everything later on in preparation for winter's arrival. When I took a trip to the top of the rock garden at the side of the  house I wasn't the least bit surprised to see that the volunteer morning glories had formed a mat of vines and flowers on the upper portion. When we still had the wood fence I used to string them up. Now that we replaced the fence with a vinyl fence, the vines can no longer cling as they once did. It'll be interesting clearing away that mat in a month's time. 

It was perfect weather for moseying along in comfort once we got to the ravine later in the afternoon. All the late-blooming wildflowers seemed to be showing off today and they've got plenty to be conceited about. The orchids are gorgeous, every bit as beautiful as the cultivated exotic orchids grown for flower-lovers at garden centres. I found it an irresistible attraction to carefully negotiate my way over the rocks on the sloping banks of the creek to reach the area crowded with Himalayan orchids and jewelweed, the flowers sparkling with colour against the backdrop of the water rushing down the creek.

While Irving picked ripe berries for the puppies, I took my time poking about to get close-ups of the evening primrose, coreopsis and golden ragwort among the goldenrod and ragweed, the fleabane and purple loosestrife. As many beautiful flowers as we  treasure in our personal home gardens flush with flowering perennials and annuals, nature's wildflowers hold their own.

When we returned back home from our hike, the intention was to continue working in the garden, this time at the front. There was a little rose that I meant to transplant into the garden from its small pot in the hope that it would manage to survive winter. I had another pot of dianthus to be planted under one of our blue spruces, open to the sun. And there were the hydrangeas that I meant to thin out.

That's where brawn came into the picture, and when I had done as much as I was able to, Irving stepped in with a long-handled spade and a pitchfork, and he managed to unearth the deeply-entrenched roots that resisted my efforts. It took awhile, but those hydrangeas that had spread far from the original planting to crowd out hostas and roses, have now been relieved of their penchant to bully other garden denizens.

Jackie and Jillie were very patient, behaving themselves for the most part, hanging around with us. They were waiting for us to finish when we could all decamp to the house and they'd be served their afternoon vegetable salad. That time came when two bags of composted vegetation were full, and we felt enough had been accomplished for one day, with the intention of continuing the garden work perhaps tomorrow.

You can and should eat only so much. And sometimes when we're food shopping we get a little exuberant at the choices available to us, particularly the vast displays of fresh fruits and vegetables in season, locally accessed and we may tend to overstock our pantries and refrigerators. It's not only our weekly food shopping that we do together, but Irving loves to drop in to various grocery stores and their choices too kind of wow him. Invariably he brings home more food to supplement what we already have, but it's not supplement that we need, since I'm able to assess what we'll need for a week.

So he will bring home more food that we really didn't need, but he's pleased about his acumen in selections, and we end up eating everything one way or another. I do, at any rate. His appetite isn't as large as mine, I swear, and he tends to eat more sparingly than I do. Which means sometimes I have to wrack my brain about what to do with food that is past its prime. Like the big tub of cream cheese he bought awhile ago, though we already had cream cheese in the refrigerator.

He always emphasizes what a good price it was, and it does no good to respond that the price is irrelevant if the product isn't used. We also had too much in the way of fresh fruit. So I paired the cream cheese with blueberries to bake cheese tarts topped with blueberries for dessert today. We both look forward to baked desserts on Friday evening. Into the cream cheese filling went some sour cream and we had too much of it too, since he bought an extra tub 'on sale'.

That worked out very nicely. I just lined large muffin tins with cupcake papers, made a pastry dough, cut it into rounds, fitted them into the papers, made the filling, baked the tarts, and prepared a blueberry garnish with sugar, cranberry juice, cornstarch, a half-pint of fresh berries and a bit of almond essence and butter. I get a sense of accomplishment out of that, and we both enjoy a good dessert. Irving's praise is worth the bother; no bother at all.

Everything in the outdoors was well and truly drenched this morning after overnight rain following hard on yesterday afternoon's heavy rain that erupted after we'd had our early afternoon romp with Jackie and Jillie through the forest trails in a light drizzle. We'd had a two-day 'drought' this week when the garden and the garden pots so accustomed to daily downpours sulked at the lack of rain. Now they've no need to.

When we left for the ravine with our puppies the atmosphere was one of deep humidity although the temperature gauge read only 19C. The sky was crowded with dark grey clouds and there was the smell and look of imminent rain. In the forest it was so dark my little camera balked at taking photographs. But the rain held off as we toddled along, enjoying the walk-through, but very conscious of a late-summer aura shifting into fall mode.