Friday was my birthday. I'm now officially 87. My younger sister reached 83 two days earlier. We always have a lot to talk about. Mostly reminiscing, recalling things of the past. Her memory worries her, it has become elusive. She suffers from a multitude of ills; sciatica is a particular issue since she's always in pain with it, making it difficult for her to walk, but she has lung issues as well. She doesn't get out at all anymore. My brother-in-law has gradually taken over all the tasks involved in daily life, from preparing meals to cleaning their condo, to doing all the shopping. Until a few years ago she was still going out dancing -- a recreational passion with her. Old age hasn't been kind to her.

For me, it's another birthday. Irving always tries to make it special, but really, it's just another day. I cautioned him not to buy anything for me, but he never listens. I now have another two gold bracelets; my wrists jingle with them. Another several months before he catches up with me. The weather certainly didn't reflect a special day. It was heavily overcast, dark and gloomy and the rain was constant. So on that 'special' day we couldn't even take Jackie and Jillie out for their daily hike through the forest.

Still, I made use of the day and baked a pumpkin pie, one of Irving's most favourite desserts. And we had breaded chicken breast cutlets, tiny roasted fingerling potatoes and steamed cauliflower after our chicken-noodle soup, for that 'special' dinner. So special it was no different than any other dinner, other than that we enjoyed it just as much as all the others, and were comfortable and pleased with the day as is usual.

This morning after breakfast I set about cutting up a pineapple. It was ripe; before I buy a pineapple I always test it for ripeness by yanking at one of the innermost spears; if it detaches readily, the fruit is ripe. But even so, I struggled to cut it into quarters so I could detach the flesh from the outer shell. I'd never come across another pineapple as difficult to cut as this one. Finally, I had to ask Irving to help and he made quick work of it, but not without exerting himself in the process. 

Although the weather forecast was for a semi-sunny day, but for an absence of rain we had yet another in a too-long series of heavily overcast skies and darkness prevailing. Happily, there was no wind, and even better, no rain. And the fact that the  temperature had descended from yesterday's 7C to today's -1C was another bonus. It meant that the trails through the forest, thanks to copious rain would be frozen solid.

When we did go out with Jackie and Jillie for our usual afternoon circuit, unsurprisingly, there were areas of the forest still holding leftover bits of snow and ice. And some of the trails remained icy; the reason we wore our spikes. All these changes encouraged people who regularly take walks through the forest from within the wider community to come out with their companion dogs today.

Which meant that our circuit was well punctuated with the arrival at various times, of cookie-seeking friends of Jackie and Jillie. Invariably they're so well-behaved, their eyes speaking volumes of their expectations. It's just such a delight to see them. 

 

Yesterday I was reminded of an old O. Henry Christmas classic story. About a man and  his wife who dearly loved one another. They lived in poverty and each desperately wanted to have a gift to give to the other. The man had a pocket watch he treasured that belonged to his father. The woman had a wonderful head of long, beautiful hair. Her husband longed to buy her pretty trinkets to show off her hair. His wife thought how wonderful it would be if she could buy a watch fob, a chain to attach to his pocket watch.

 

On Christmas Day the husband gave his beloved wife combs he had bought with the money he gained from selling his pocket watch. Only to discover that she had a chain to gift to him, paid for by cutting off and selling her long tresses. 

 

Well, yesterday morning I decided to cut my hair. I had been allowing it grow long, and Irving didn't care for how it looked, dragging down my facial features. I liked it well enough but the longer it grew the more unruly it became. So I snipped the length off so that it would sit just above my shoulders in what approximated the 1920s 'bob' cut. I wondered how long it would take for him to notice.

 

 

Coincidentally, after our afternoon ravine walk, Irving went upstairs to do a few things and was there awhile. When he returned he settled down comfortably with Jackie and Jillie to read the news on his laptop. I finally got up to prepare dinner and when I looked at him I realized he was clean-shaven. He's worn a beard for the last 50 years, when it was anything but as popular as it is now, for men growing beards. Now he's without one. 

 

 

As for noticing my hair, he didn't. Once I drew it to his attention he thought it suited me more than the longer hair. He hadn't noticed, he said, because viewing me from the front obscured the fact that my long hair was gone. Ha!

 

We wandered out to the ravine a little earlier this afternoon than usual. Having decided to do our weekly food shopping tomorrow, to avoid the after-Christmas rush, and the likelihood we'd be seeing some empty shelves. Another mild day. In the news there was a story about unusually cold temperatures in China, where in Beijing, daytime highs of -10C were bedevilling people, unaccustomed to the kind of weather we usually have at this time of year. 

 

The milder temperature today of 5C came with early morning sunshine, but by the time we got out it was just intermittent sun and mostly cloudy. More snow and ice had melted with the milder temperature, but the forest trails, with a light layer of water on top of the ice, were even more slippery than before. We saw relatively few people out, but those who were on the trails took the precaution of wearing cleats. 

 

 

One person who wore just boots was quite the sight, cheerfully balancing himself and trying to control his slides downhill as his dog raced happily ahead. The younger the person the less likelihood of coming out of a bad fall with injuries; conversely the older the person the greater the chance of regretting the rash decision to risk injury in this new non-winter landscape.

 

 

We had the usual contingent of encounters with our canine friends, dashing over to extend a seasonal greeting and patiently awaiting their edible gifts. We're always happy to see them, just as they're glad to see us. Jackie and Jillie have a wide circle of friends and acquaintances that they welcome and call over for brief cookie parties.

 

 

 

After preparing and cooking somewhat elaborate meals on weekdays we take a bit of a break on the weekend. In the winter that means cooking soups for winter comfort for weekend meals. A hot piping soup aromatic with vegetables and herbs, or one with an assortment of pulses and herbs in a chicken stock just calls out comfort. On Saturday I bake rolls to go with soup and together with a bit of different types of hard cheeses it makes for a complete meal, with fresh fruit to finish off.

Yesterday's soup was an assortment of dried peas and beans, chopped garlic, leeks and tomato paste and herbs. It's great to  have the fragrance of simmering soup waft through the  house on cold winter days. Yesterday's greeted us as we returned from a very late afternoon trek through the woods. And this time the soup was complemented with grilled cheese sandwiches.

 It's become a bit reckless to enter the forest without good cleats for gripping on the trails that have become extremely icy over the past several weeks. That's the result of much milder than usual temperatures day after day along with rain, instead of snow. The end result is the snowpack having melted and leaving behind solidly frozen trails where ascending and descending hillsides becomes treacherous. Irving had bought new cleats for both of us, updated and better designed, only his just weren't as good as those he bought for me. Even with his new cleats on he was unable to get a good purchase on the ice. 

So Saturday morning he braved the frantic shopping crushes and found a pair of cleats in his size that had the gripping features of mine, and wearing them made a world of difference. Each step on the ice produces a firmly reassuring clip as the teeth on the cleats dug into the ice. Which meant we're both now equipped with heavy-duty icers and we can relax, the tension evaporates and we climb or descend the hills with confidence.

 

We were out much earlier today. Yesterday's ravine circuit took place mostly in the dark; fortunately there was enough snow left on the forest floor to emit light and we're so familiar with the forest and its trails, darkness doesn't present much of a problem since the lights from the city tend of bounce off clouds and reflect down on the forest.

 

Although we enjoyed mild temperatures just above freezing, a heavily clouded sky meant that the forest interior was dark, even at noon. But we had an enjoyable trek through one of our circuits, and a fair number of dogs familiar with the cookie man ran happily at us through the course of the circuit, as their people waited patiently on other trails from where their pets had left to find us after hearing Jillie's incessant barking invitations.

 

Irving loves doughnuts. When our children were young I often made doughnuts of different kinds. It was fun making them, and everyone enjoyed eating them, but it's been decades since I've even thought of making them. I wasn't keen in deep-frying anything, truth to tell. It's why, when I make French fries to accompany fish for dinner on occasion, they're baked in the oven, on a cookie sheet with a minimum of oil to give them that deep crispness.

 

But several days ago when he was going through the Financial Post he read an article about Tim Horton's coffee chain, and one of the items they had removed from their menu, was something called 'Dutchies'.  There was an accompanying photograph, and they looked somewhat like doughnuts. Irving was curious about them, so since there wasn't a recipe for them with the article, I looked online and found one.

 

They're deep fried, of course. A type of doughnut we'd never heard of before, and because of popular acclaim, it seems they're returning to the Tim Horton menu. We both have a sweet tooth, but Irving's has magnified over the years. We both love breads of any kind; for me, the heavier-grain breads with lots of seeds, while Irving enjoys all kinds of sour dough breads and croissants.

I had a look at the recipe ingredients and thought I'd go ahead and make them today. I forgot what they were called, but remembered the ingredients; evidently they're considered a Canadian doughnut. So after breakfast I soaked a half-cup of raisins, and put together the dough. Consisting of yeast, honey, milk, an egg, flour, cinnamon and raisins. The recipe called for sugar, but I substituted honey. As for proportions, I never follow recipe directions, I just assess the ingredients and their logical amounts.

After the dough had rested and risen for about an hour, I used a tall-sided frypan with olive oil to a depth of about a half-inch or slightly more, and fried the dough I had first rolled into a log, then cut into fairly even pieces, and made the doughnuts, then dipped each one in an icing-sugar glaze, and they look fine, and undoubtedly will taste fine. As with all these things, they taste best the day they're made. And since there's just two of us taking one each, that leaves too many for another day and another day, and there will be wastage.

 

So of course to compensate for eating such tempting but extraneous-to-our-energy-needs food supplements, we went out with Jackie and Jillie for our usual tramp through the ravine. A tad on the cold side at -6C, but it will get much colder as winter progresses. No wind of any note was a help, and if we'd gone out earlier we would have had the benefit of the sun. Such as what manages to pierce the inner forest.

We'd gone out late, at four, so that as we progressed on the trails, dusk turned quickly darker until by the time we reached home after exiting the ravine, darkness had descended. The street is quiet. There is some residual snow, but we haven't had snowfall for over a week. Looks like this won't be a white Christmas here, after all.

It took a while coming, edging closer day by day from the longest day of the year toward the shortest day of the year. In a six-month period we moved from dusk falling after 9:00 p.m. in the summer months to the present, where we've lost over four hours of daylight hours as our planet spins slowly on its axle tilting our hemisphere away from the sun. Now the long, laborious route back to full-light days will commence as of tomorrow, when winter finally arrives.

So far it's been an odd winter, much milder than what we're accustomed to, and though there's been ample precipitation it's been mostly in the form of rain, not snow. We had the beginning of a respectable snowpack that accumulated from late November to early December, then when we settled into a mild patch of weather, rain began washing the snow away. Ground that had been settled into frost began defrosting and an unwelcome appearance of clay-muck eventuated.

Winter in this northern hemisphere must have cold temperatures and the lack of snow thus far heading into December is hugely unusual. I can recall only one winter many decades ago when a similar situation emerged and people who celebrate Christmas were bereft of the snow that helps make the event a magical time of year. Still, people have put up their decorations, lights are blinking as soon as dusk falls, and colourful displays mark the traditional season.

We can hope that we're finally moving a way from the unusually mild temperatures and we'll be receiving some of our usual seasonal snowstorms. But they'll be too late for the holiday season. Cold and sunny is what we're headed for, and that too is something we can appreciate. With a daytime high of -6C today, Jackie and Jillie needed their little rubber boots to protect their tender pads, and off we went to the ravine for our afternoon hike.

The conditions of the past several weeks have led to the trails being completely iced over. Not a problem on a plateau, but certainly challenging on ascents and descents. When Irving was climbing one of the hillside trails, several large dogs swarmed him expectantly, threw him off kilter and he slid backward. Without upward momentum it's difficult even with cleats, to climb over ice. So down he went, and came back up on an alternate route.

Once firmly in control on the elevation he was able to satisfy the cookie-crazed pups' expectations. We saw a surprisingly large number of people out today, given the cold and the walking conditions, not to mention that dusk was settling in by 3:30 p.m. Jackie and Jillie had quite the exciting experience themselves surrounded by a passel of dogs, familiar and unfamiliar.

The view from the forest interior up at the sky under these conditions where the deciduous trees are naked of foliage and stand like dark sentries reaching up to the sky that has been transformed from a pale ocean-blue to a darker version approaching blue velvet, with the bright disk of the moon floating above, wanly illuminating the world below.

 

We were forced by weather to relinquish any thoughts we had of getting out to the ravine for our daily jaunt through the forest trails with Jackie and Jillie yesterday. The high for the day was an unheard-of for mid-December 9C, with heavily overcast skies that dripped steadily throughout the entire day.  We had little choice in the matter; getting out even at that mild temperature in pouring rain isn't much fun. The incessant rain convinced us that whatever was left of the snowpack in the ravine would be gone by today.  

Yet, when we came downstairs for breakfast this morning, a far cheerier sight greeted us looking out the front door. The environment was once again frosted with white and even under the prevailing overcast, it looked sparkling. It wasn't hard to notice though, that despite a lower temperature, the wind was very present. And each time we ventured out to the backyard it bit through our clothing.

By the time we got out for our walk in the early afternoon wind had moderated the benign temperature to nasty-mean, a fiercely biting wind. But we were glad to be able to get out with the puppies and stretch their legs and ours. As always it's delightful to see the landscape frosted with white, even if, on this occasion, the frosting was on the sparse side.

Fresh snow on top of sheer ice doesn't mitigate conditions of slipping and sliding on descents, and we could see as we tromped down the first incline into the ravine that there had been plenty of slipping and sliding as people were incautious enough to think the rain might have washed away or denaturized the ice. It hadn't, and we were grateful for the firm grip of the wicked spikes on our boots.

As we approached the forest creek and the first of several bridges leading up to or down from the ridge above, Jillie began her frantic barking, obviously having spotted someone above, and then her brother joined in. That someone whoever it was just stood up above, holding a large black dog short on a leash, and I wondered why.

When we made our way uphill to the ridge, a friendly face greeted us, an old ravine-walking friend we haven't seen in several years. His dog Rex, a rottweiler, had died and he didn't have the heart to revisit the places where they had enjoyed being together. He told us he was utterly bereft with the loss, and we could commiserate; we've been through that sense of utter deprivation ourselves. 

It took some time for him to recover from his emotional loss. In the meantime, he had been infected with a dreadful case of COVID that took him a long time to recover from, but he also had good news too, a grandchild born to his daughter. His wife finally urged him to fill the gap in his life and he adopted a Rottie pup, named him Bosco. And there he was with Bosco, now 11 months old, back to his old routine, forging through the forest trails.

 

 

When I made up a batch of bread dough on Friday for use the following day to bake dinner rolls, I decided to replace half of the all-purpose flour with whole-wheat flour for a change. And when I rolled out the dough on Saturday afternoon to form croissants, I sprinkled a herb mix onto the dough before beginning the folding process. I had already grated sharp cheddar cheese into the dough and included sesame seeds so I thought the baked croissants would be different, and they were. Even more fragrantly tempting than ever.

 

 

And they made a perfect accompaniment with the vegetable soup that I put on to simmer after our afternoon hike through the ravine. By usual mid-December standards this week has been abnormally mild. So much so that instead of snow we've been getting rain. Those conditions have wrought havoc in the snowpack we had already accumulated, and snow has steadily retreated. Despite which, it's cold enough and we still appreciate bowls of steaming hot soup for dinner, and rolls to go with them.

 

This morning we enjoyed another treat in recalling that it's been a while since I last made waffles for breakfast. They're quick and easy to prepare, with simple, basic ingredients that call for a cup of flour, tsp. of baking powder, 1/4 c.granulated sugar, 2 large eggs, 1/2 cup milk and a tsp. vanilla. Our old waffle griddle had given up the ghost a while back, so Irving bought two little griddles, one of which I use the other kept in storage. 

 

While I go about doing other things preparing breakfast, the little griddle churns out one waffle after another; about four or five minutes for each one. Which gives me ample time in between to feed the puppies, let them out to the backyard, prepare our fruit, and finish setting the table for breakfast. By the time everything has been accomplished, all the waffles are ready and Jackie and Jillie are champing at the bit for their share. Along with the sausages that accompanied the waffles.

 

The forecast for today was for more rain by late afternoon, through the night and into tomorrow morning. So we went out for a change in early afternoon. But even at 2:00 p.m. in the forest, on an overcast day like today, it's fairly dim, as though dusk arrives just after noon. Actually on these waning days of the shortest daylight hours, dusk does arrive around 3:00 in the afternoon, so that by four, darkness begins to rapidly accelerate. Most afternoons we walk home from the ravine in darkness.

 

The snowpack in the ravine has held up fairly well, but there are now growing patches of snowless terrain, and that too affects perceived light. Jackie and Jillie have taken to walking along the sides of the trails, to avoid the icy areas; they're slick enough at points to make even their little naturally-spiked paws slip and slide a bit. They looked in vain for sights of any of their friends at certain areas where there's a distant sightline to other trails. But no one seemed to be out; the forest was all ours to enjoy and appreciate.

 

They're twins, in the sense they were the only ones in the litter. To the uninitiated eye they look like carbon copies of one another. Yet they're as unalike physically as they are personality-wise; their characters are completely different. Brother and sister, their genders are evident in their manner of behaviour.  Physically, Jillie is solidly built, not quite squat but somewhat hefty; she weighs at least a third more than her brother. He is dainty in comparison; tall and slender.

She is wickedly trouble-making, he is mild tempered, a follower. She is stubborn and he is biddable, although he has his balky moments. She barks furiously at any opportunity, would stand at the door forever, looking out to vet anyone passing and if a dog saunters past on the road she becomes hysterical. And her brother joins in; his bark male to her feminine quality of sound.

 

They have a basket full of toys in the family room where we spend most of our leisure time. He rarely pays attention to any of the toys, mostly little stuffed animals. But she pulls them out to play with them, and scatters them everywhere. At any opportunity she'll poke about in the mud room, looking for mittens and hats to make off with and sometimes chew damagingly. 

If they're being punished for something they've done and know better than to, she's stolid about it, he becomes absolutely stricken. He gets extremely upset and she just couldn't care less. She will constantly run ahead of  us while we're out on the forest trails though we call her back constantly so we can see where she is, what she's doing. He prefers to remain with us for the most part. If we come across strangers and more so, with a dog, her behaviour is obnoxiously aggressive, continually barking. Her barking infects him and he augments her barks and her attitude.

 

Once they're familiar with the person and the dog their attitude changes and they become friendly. She waggles her rear end and makes amends, while he walks on, unconcerned. She loves attention and makes up to people who know her, revelling in their notice of her, while her brother won't allow anyone to get too close to him. So, they're completely different. He leaps to the top of the sofa, or onto a settle that sits in the breakfast room, to attain height while she is satisfied with staying in her bed on the floor.

Hers is a ravenous appetite, which no doubt accounts for her robust physicality, while he eats his food slower than she does. His food is about 1/4 more than she is given, but the weight disparity between the two persists; their physical characteristics and metabolism are quite different. Where they do coincide in preference is to be continually praised, and petted and stroked; neither seem to get enough of love and attention.

 

A bit cooler today than yesterday, but still unusually mild for this time of year. We took ourselves out to the ravine earlier than usual, and stayed out much longer than usual, enjoying the temperature, occasional sun and a windless afternoon.  But underfoot, conditions couldn't have been more challenging; daytime highs and nighttime freezing have iced the forest trails dangerously. Most people who venture out do so with precaution, and the most important one is to wear reliable ice-gripping cleats.

While putting together breakfast for us and for the puppies I decided to prepare the filling for an apple pie, as well. We haven't had apple pie for quite awhile and it seems appropriate for a top-off of a winter meal. We had navel oranges, bananas, oatmeal and tea and coffee, while Jackie and Jillie had their kibble topped with cooked chicken and supplemented by sharing a scrambled egg. Then I turned my attention to the pie filling; sugar, cornstarch, cranberry juice, five medium-sized Gala apples, sliced. And the pot put on to simmer gently while we had our breakfast.

While I was cutting up the apples the fragrance of the apples was too much for Jackie. He pleaded for some apple, and I offered small pieces to him and his sister. He ended up with both, because he's a fruit-lover and Jillie can take it or leave it, and after sniffing the offering she left it. That stoked their little furnaces well, and they settled down for an after-breakfast nap while Irving and I devoured the newspapers along with our breakfast.

Later, I added butter to the still-hot finished filling, along with cinnamon, raisins and snipped crystalized ginger. Prepared a pastry crust, top and bottom and baked the pie, as well as preparing a bread dough for use tomorrow. I'm making a chicken dish in mushroom gravy using deboned, skinned chicken thighs so I cut them into bite-sized pieces and set them aside in the refrigerator sprinkled with herbs and olive oil.

Like yesterday, this has been a sunny day, a radiant sun in a wide pale-blue sky with tiny tufts of white cloud drifting by. And the temperature! It rose to a balmy 10C by late morning, quite unbelievable for this time of year. Jillie settled down in her little bed and Jackie leaped up to the settle beside the bed, to enjoy the sun streaming through the patio doors while I worked in the kitchen.

Yet another perfect day for a turn through the ravine, although every day, regardless of the weather turns out to be a 'perfect day' for our customary visit to the forest trails. Thanks to the mild temperature all the snow crusted in driveways and on the road has melted. But we know from long experience that there would be ample snow left on the forest floor, and on the trails it would be transformed to ice, so our cleats were in order.

It would be just downright impossible for anyone to negotiate the hills in the ravine without being prepared adequately and crampons are the only way to go. The sun was bright and warm and this time I wore nothing on my head, and a lighter winter jacket. Jackie and Jillie wandered here and there, but never out of sight, and it didn't take long before we had our first visitors lining up politely for cookies. It's just not possible to appreciate the manners of so many dogs we come across patiently waiting for attention.