These dark days -- not only shorter daylight hours, but all the news out of the Middle East and its slop-over everywhere in a new and ever more virulent wave of antisemitism -- seem to telescope the hours in reverse, so that while the endless bad news seems to go on and become increasingly worse, there aren't, it seems, enough hours in the waking day to manage everything. Not only does time seem tight, there seems no time to relax the tension that now occupies our minds.

Sleep is anything but assured and tranquil. Even if we're exhausted when we fall into bed there's no guarantee that once we finally drop off to sleep, we'll sleep well through the night and feel refreshed. It doesn't happen, there are hours on hours of wakeful frenetic thoughts and frantic reviewing of what we've seen and heard through the day's hours.

And it's cold, much colder and darker through the days than it should be at this time of year. It's as though nature is mourning with us. With these cold and comfortless days there's an increased need to change our meal preparation itinerary to opt for comfort food. I couldn't think of what to prepare for dinner yesterday. While we were out doing the food shopping, we passed the pasta section and Irving mentioned we haven't had spaghetti and meatballs for a long time. I promised I'd do that today.

 

But when I asked what he could think of that he would want to have for dinner yesterday he was as much a blank as I was. Then it occurred to me we had some cheese in the refrigerator past its best, and we had too many tomatoes, so why not a savoury dinner pie? I made a pie crust and instead of lemon juice and ice water I used really cold sour cream; it too was nearing its best-before date. I decided on a one-crust pie, and grated the aging St.Paulin cheese over the crust, then sprinkled it with a half-cup of sliced green onion and thyme.

I had sliced tomatoes and placed them on absorbent paper to drain, and they came next along with sweet basil. Then I whipped two large eggs with a half-cup sour cream, added cracked pepper, poured it over the pie ingredients, and last, sprinkled about a cup of grated Parmesan over it all. Into the oven it went at 350F for 40 min. and that, along with a very small green salad and sliced fresh blue plums, was dinner.

 

When we woke this morning, once again there was light snow down, but the snow had stopped falling. The temperature had plunged to -5C last night, so it was a really cold night. Two consecutive such nights in a row, and now when we look out at the garden it's sad looking. The begonias that had been so bright and colourful have completely collapsed.

In the afternoon we went out with Jackie and Jillie for our daily tramp through the woods in the ravine. The heavy overcast and chilling cold made it seem more like December than just having entered November. But then, November always has been a dreary month; mostly overcast and colourless, leaf-deprived trees standing stark and dark against a grey atmosphere.

When we returned from our hike, it was still relatively early so I remained outside to clean up the collapsed annuals and compost them, then do some raking. Another three large compost bags for collection again this coming Tuesday. Several neighbours came by, among them Margaret who lives on the street behind us, a wizened, cheerful woman with an ever-tentative smile. She was happy, she and her husband Christopher had just returned from a trip back home to Nova Scotia, to visit with family.