There are summer days of such splendid perfection they absolutely refuse to be treated just like any other day. Some people responding to the allure of a perfect summer day, dream about spending it at a beach. Our preference is a good, long hike through forest trails. There was a time when we'd combine that with canoeing on a lake where hiking trails spiralled out of the area, and a full day could be spent outdoors, including an evening picnic meal. 

 

 

On the lake, the slap of a beaver's tail, the call of a loon and the sight of a Great Blue Heron rising from the edge of the water, gave us a double reward. There were times when we hauled the canoe out of a lake and watched as a deer reached up to grasp fruit from a wild apple tree. We no longer travel the relatively short distance to those semi-wilderness areas, content with visiting the forested ravine accessed across the street from our home on a quiet urban street.

 

Because it was such a perfect day -- generous cooling breezes under wide blue skies and a temperature reaching toward hot, that the forest canopy pleasantly moderated for us, we held a short consultation with our two little dogs whose enthusiasm clarified their willingness to remain out longer than usual in the forest by prolonging the circuit we generally take on off-branch trails. Although we haven't seen very many people and their dogs out lately, attributable, we think, to ubiquitous mosquitoes, muddy trails, overcast skies and pop-up rain events, this time was different.

 

 

It was a busy morning, Irving mowed the grass in the backyard and I baked a batch of gingerbread crispy cookies favoured by our older son, with plans to bake a batch of chocolate-chip cookies for our daughter-in-law who finds them irresistible, so that when they arrive on Monday there'll be goodies to greet them with. They may both be in their 60s now, but there's something about children, no matter their age, and cookies fresh out of a mother's baking agenda that never fails to appeal.

 

 

By the time we set out for the ravine it was still early afternoon, and it was just as well that Irving stocked up on dog cookies before we left, for we came across quite a few old friends who know him as the 'Cookie Man' and made a beeline for him, leaving their human companions for as long as it takes to chomp down on a few cookies each before resuming their own hike on other trails.

 

We also picked countless purple raspberries, sweet and ripe, for Jackie and Jillie whose enthusiasm for the fruit particularly on hot days, knows no bounds. Jackie has learned that he can reach up to the low-hanging fruit to avail himself of their sweet abundance, though he prefers we do the picking work and proffer the results in our outstretched palms. Although we've been picking ripe Thimbleberries for weeks, the shrubs are still flowering.

 

We were a little surprised when we doubled back on our circuit to pass by the forest creek, finding that the zip line several young men had installed from ridge to ridge of the ravine's treeline was still intact. And to see that the taut line was in use by an acrobat-inclined 'zipper', who might, for all we knew, have been practising for Cirque du Soleil. From the near distance it appeared to us that whoever that individual was, he was taking spectacular chances. He did appear to be enjoying himself tremendously, but that line's height from point A to point B was substantial. The creek and its banks are lined with large jagged granite rocks. At one point he even indulged in some trapeze-like moves, including a brief stint of tightrope-walking.

 

We were out for close to two hours, and grateful to sit quietly in the garden afterward, enjoying being among the blooming plants, their colour, texture and form a never-ending visual treat. It occurred to me that it had been quite a while since any of the many garden pots had been fertilized, so while Irving sat and watched I set about sprinkling fertilizer and watering it in to our miniature gardens-in-pots.

 

So far, summer is continuing to shape up very nicely. We're now in a spate of the most pleasant of weather-days; warm but not hot, plenty of breezes, and a mixture of sun and cloud. And, of course, intermittent rain events. Yesterday, we deemed it reasonable, given the weather, to do a little work in the garden. Mostly tidying up, an all-summer-long occupation, in actual fact. Sun exposure, ample rain and reasonable weather conditions encourage vegetation growth. And from time to time -- at least once a week, the garden begs to be attended to, cutting back spent flowers to encourage new ones, sweeping up the detritus that tends to gather.

 

 

Nature is an endless assistant. Too bushed to do the watering yesterday, we wagered that it would soon rain, and rain it did, heavily, several hours after we completed our labours. Hard not to feel a bit smug about that kind of natural intervention. Despite that we've had so much rain this spring and summer it has all been absorbed by the thirsty ground below us. The trails in the forest have dried up nicely, and it's hard o discern that the gardens have received a needed quota of rain; with the constant wind, everything has a tendency to dry quickly.

 

 

Sun and rain have also hastened the ripening of the wild berries in the forest. And Jackie and Jillie are major beneficiaries. They know where the pickings are best because we've parked ourselves in those areas alongside the trails for weeks now, picking ripe raspberries, and now thimbleberries for them. The last of the berries -- are in even greater abundance, though they will be a while yet in ripening.

 

 

Yesterday we had seen a pair of male Pileated woodpeckers in the woods, not far off one of the trails we were on. Strange to see a pair -- not a male and female -- together actually working in concert with one another. They flew together to the trees of interest to them, and finally settled, one on each side of an old tree trunk, just a foot off the ground, to begin battering the decaying wood.

 

 

Despite the beautiful weather and the recreational allure of the forest trails, and anticipating surprises now and again at unexpected sightings every time we enter the forest, we haven't seen too many other area residents around and about in the forest. Conditions that we consider a bit of a nuisance: muddy trails, hot, humid atmosphere, stinging insects, are a real turn-off for most people. Constant threat of rain keeps a lot of even dedicated trail hikers away. But there are always exceptions, and today an old friend appeared, patiently awaiting his reward of doggy cookies. 

 

Today, as we made our way up one of the hills in the ravine's forest we saw a mess of equipment at the side of the trail, and recognized that the young men who had weeks ago set up a zip line were at it again. One man begins by shimmying up a tree trunk to fasten his end of a line that has to be taut enough to take their weight, while at the other end another of the men is also busy with his end of the line, intent on getting the tension just right. From the upper ridge of the ravine, the zip line extended across the creek to a lower portion of the ravine, across the pollinating meadow with the forest on either side. Hard, exacting work.

 

 

Jackie and Jillie were alarmed at first at their presence and the strange objects they saw beside the trail. Then their attitude changed to curiosity as they sniffed about. We were ourselves curious, speaking briefly to the two men as we passed, earning ourselves broad smiles. No doubt they were feeling a little cautious, hoping that no one would draw attention to what they were doing and invite any kind of unwanted questioning by the local parks and recreation authorities. We urged them to have a care.

 

 

Back home, time to relax briefly in the garden, look about at everything and recognize areas that we missed on our clean-up routine of yesterday. I briefly flirted with tackling the backyard which is also in need of trim-and-tidy, but I had too much to do in the house, so decided to leave it for another day in this coming new week.

 

 

 

Last week, when we took Jackie and Jillie to the groomers for a summer haircut, one of the attentive  young women who take such good care of the community's pets noticed something amiss in Jillie's rear end. She decided to take Jillie over to the veterinarian clinic that the spa is connected to, and had one of the vets look at Jillie. It seems she had an anal gland that collapsed and became infected. She was cleaned up, the anal gland expressed of infection, and was given an antibiotic injection. Later, when we picked her up, she was perfectly fine.

 

We had noticed she was scudding and she had licked her bottom, but this is not unusual behaviour for her. For her and for her brother, who never scuds, but is always feeling irritated around his anus and whom we've had expressed by one of the clinic technicians on a number of occasions. The groomers also offer that as a service, but they're not as skilled as the technicians. At the time we had made a follow-up appointment, and that was for today, at 2:30 p.m.

 

So I was busy this morning trying to get everything done that I normally do on a Friday, before leaving for the appointment. While I was preparing breakfast for us and for them -- oatmeal, melon and banana for us, kibble, chicken and melon for Jackie and Jillie, as well as a scrambled egg shared between them. They look forward to that 'extra'; a shared egg in the morning and in the afternoon after our forest  hike, then again after their evening meal, a salad of chopped fresh vegetables -- I also sliced a half-dozen peaches for a pie filling.

I'd bought a small basket of Ontario peaches when we were shopping on Tuesday and by Thursday I could see that some of the peaches were on the cusp of going bad. Guess it's the overly-hot weather, but I've never known that to happen before. Eaten fresh they were great, but I wanted to use them up, so I thought a peach pie would do the trick. I mixed sugar and cornstarch with a small amount of cranberry juice, sliced the peaches into that (and gave the puppies a minor share of sliced peach) then set the pot under a low heat for everything to simmer and the resulting liquid to thicken. Once it was done, I added butter to the hot filling, and then almond flavouring and left it to cool.

 

After breakfast before cleaning up the table and washing everything I made a pastry dough. Rolled out the dough into a pie plate, filled it, covered it, and baked the resulting pie in a 375F oven for about 35 minutes. Then I put a chicken soup on to simmer for dinnertime, cleaned up the kitchen, went upstairs to make up our bed, give our bathroom a quick tidying up, did the same with the powder room downstairs, dry-mopped the kitchen floor.

And we were ready for our romp through the forest trails. A beautiful day awaited us. A temperature high of a reasonable 26C, brisk breezes and a hot sun moderated now and again by high, puffy-white clouds. As we entered the ravine we checked out the ripening raspberries and thimbleberries. We've been picking them for several weeks; even as thimbleberries are ripening, new flowers are blooming. The wild blackberries, really plentiful this year, will be a while yet to ripen. It's really the raspberries and thimbleberries the puppies love, and on hot days their sweet moistness is perfect.

 

The trails are beginning to dry out, thanks to the sun wherever it penetrates the canopy, and the wind, though there are still plenty of muddy areas that both the puppies and we avoid when we can. The wind kept mosquitoes at bay, and that was appreciated. There's nothing left of the ripening hazelnuts, all of them harvested and eaten by the resident squirrels before they could become really shell-hard. 

Everything has been earlier-than-usual in blooming this year. Queen Anne's lace, fleabane, and pilotweed have grown to ridiculous heights, thanks to the plentiful rain this spring and summer. And now, somewhat surprisingly, the Himalayan orchids are also now beginning to bloom. And we saw cornflowers in bloom as well. It's always a surprise to see those old friends. Where years before in the pollinating meadow, Black-eyed Susans proliferated, this year they're reduced in number; wild saw grasses have overwhelmed them.

 

Later, at the veterinarian clinic, Jillie's full recovery from the collapsed anal gland was verified. And while we were there, the technician that looked after them expressed Jackie's glands, so they should both be in good shape for a while. While we were out in the ravine, two dogs familiar to them came along for cookies and Irving as always obliged. But while we were at the vet clinic, someone walked in with a large dog and Jackie was transformed into a little raging monster, barking and growling at the poor dog about ten times Jackie's size, who was alarmed and fearful at the hostile reception he was submitted to by a very small dog who seems to view other dogs as potential enemies -- until he gets to know them.

Irving does everything that has to be done technically in our house, and he always has. It's the third house we've owned and lived in, discounting the houses that weren't owned by us but in which we lived for years in both Tokyo and Atlanta. From plumbing to electrical, building walls downstairs in the basements to transform the space there to an additionally livable part of the house, installing doors and altering 'open concept' spaces to fully enclosed rooms, designing and producing stained glass windows for every window in the house, to excavation work in the garden and building stone retaining walls and brick walkways, there is absolutely nothing he couldn't conceive of, and build.

 

It was as though each of the prior houses represented a rehearsal for the final house we now live in, and have done for over 30 years. Among other things he did was to install dimmer switches in all the bedrooms. One of those switches exhibited a penchant for mischief over the years, suddenly deciding to turn itself on independently during the night hours. The ghost-in-the-light-switch as it were. When we shut down the dimmer function, it began to balk at being turned on and off, until finally it gave up the ghost (see?). So today Irving rummaged about in his workshop to come up with an ordinary switch and an hour later the balky dimmer switch was exchanged.

 

 

His ability to do such a wide variety of things always impresses me. He attributes it to the fact that when he was in his teens and at high school 'shop' was a mandatory class where he was exposed to all manner of maintenance and upkeep standards having equipped him to tackle all these household chores. And that may be so, but only partially, since his own inbred sense of aesthetic and  his indistinguishable curiosity really prepared him to explore and learn and flourish at creative tasks and enterprises.  

We've got another hot, humid and sunny day, with an 80 percent chance of thunderstorms forecasted today. A bit of a breeze helps, but barely. A number of trips out to the backyard in between laundering towels and linen and deep-cleaning bathrooms gave me the opportunity to do a little bit of weeding in the back garden; a task that frays our patience but whose presentation is never-ending. Jackie and Jillie view such excursions as opportunities to chase rabbits and squirrels within our firmly fenced backyard.

 

Later on, out we went to the ravine, roasting in the sun until we reached the confines of the forest. On the way we picked some ripe raspberries for the puppies, who hover expectantly beside us while we do the picking and the mosquitoes punish us for disturbing their places of residence. Yesterday's heavy ongoing rain events through the late afternoon into the evening left a fine glittering veil of moisture over everything where the sun cannot penetrate the forest canopy.

 

The trails winding through the forest are as steeped in muck as we've ever seen them, and the rain puddles are extensive, their avoidance requiring little detours we all indulge in. The wildflowers of early- and mid-spring have had their day, to be replaced by summer wildflowers that are going into bloom much earlier than usual, thanks to a very wet and humid spring. Even the ripening of berries is earlier than usual by weeks. Now, we see Black-eyed-Susans and Queen Anne's lace, Pilotweed and Fleabane in nature's summer garden.

We came across only one of the many dogs who make a beeline for Irving, a Bernese Mountain Dog accustomed to plopping himself down beside Irving to await notice (as though his presence could be overlooked) and receive his reward for exemplary behaviour.  Jackie and Jillie as delighted to see the dog as it is to encounter us, just as we prepared to clamber up the last long hill to street level, and home. Their delight stems from the fact that while the Big Boy gets a selection of big cookies, they too are acknowledged with their own array of tiny cookies.

Once home, we take advantage of a shady nook in the garden's seating arrangement where a very efficient breeze demonstrates just how welcome the elements of shade and wind can be restoratively on such hot, muggy days. That rest period also gives me another opportunity to do a little weeding and tidying-up in the garden whose presence gives us so much pleasure.

 

The quotidian first order of business holds no appeal for fastidious little Jilly who is never anxious to unnecessarily expose herself to winter cold or summer heat following a comfortable long night's slumber. For his part the only invitation to momentarily exit the house for the backyard is an open door, for Jackie. You never know who he might come across and that first thought obviously occupies his mind as he goes bounding down the deck stairs to greet the day -- and anyone who might be about. It just so happened I decided to accompany them this morning. Mostly because Jillie was balking because at some time in the early morning hours we'd had a heavy rainfall and wet conditions are her nemesis.

 

Out we went all together and the next thing I knew, descending the few steps to the garden, was two fleetingly blurred black shapes, but way ahead of them was a pair of rabbits. The little creatures had been browsing in the backyard, as they usually do, and got their usual rude reaction from the backyard supervisors. There's no contest really, the rabbits are faster than our pups and speedily secure themselves in their warrens under the gardening sheds.

 

We're back into another spate of really hot and humid days. Yesterday we hit 30-degrees Celsius with deep humidity and a cooling wind. I had started the day following breakfast with my usual baking indulgence for the week. It had occurred to me that it might be a little different to put together an apple-raisin cake batter for cupcakes. So I grated two apples, put together the rest of the ingredients and for the first time used a Becel product advertised as a butter alternative. It worked out really well, even for the frosting on the cupcakes which came out light and a trifle moist even though I used all-purpose flour rather than cake-and-pastry flour, in deference to the fruit I was using. We quite enjoyed them.

 

Today is our lazy day. A day left clear of household chores. And since there's time to spare, I decided to tidy  up the garden a bit, starting in the backyard, finishing at the front of the house. We've so many trees planted decades ago that overhang the garden in the front, that leaves are forever falling and gathering on the patio and walkways. We were also delighted to note that the standard Hibiscus tree that Irving had bought to celebrate our 69th wedding anniversary was blooming again, exactly a month following its first bloom.

 

When we left for our early afternoon hike through the forest, it was fairly hot with full sun exposure as we walked up the street to the ravine entrance. Once within the confines of the forest,  however, the tree canopy shielded  us beautifully from the sun. On the upper, flat portions of the ravine, the usual rain puddles haven't had much of a chance to dry, given almost daily rain events. I imagine them to be squiggling with mosquito larvae. The adults did their best to harry us, but we managed. We neither of us use repellent, but even when bitten once we return home the itch will have subsided.

 

Jackie and Jillie are for the most part busy as we make our way through the network of trails. The equivalent of our reading the daily newspapers, their constant sniffing as we proceed, veering off trail now and again to interpret canine news of the neighbourhood and occasionally leaving their own messages.

The bright and beautiful songs of robins permeate the air, complementarily to the fragrance of the blooming serviceberry trees in the forest understory. The robins are contentedly joyous over these wet conditions that bring out the constituents of their favourite mealtimes. Now and again squirrels appear and Jackie and Jillie gain brief diversions. We come across no other  hikers or their companion dogs today , although a man and his pre-teen son on bicycles pass us and though it's a beautiful day we wonder how pleasant an experience that might be for them, hearing the man shouting several times at his son to avoid mishaps as they negotiate a steep descent before they're out of sight and sound.

 

Back home again, we seat ourselves for a comfortable rest in the garden, while Jackie and Jillie mosey about. I had put together a defoliant concoction of water, salt, dish detergent and vinegar in a spray bottle, leaving it in the garage for any time I might remember to use it between the bricks of the walkway and patio where weeds intrude now and again. So I made use of it, and I'll look forward to noticing how ineffective it might be, tomorrow.

 

Finally, we decided to go back into the house, because Jackie and Jillie looked famished, awaiting their afternoon salad treat. And though they had their little bowls full of snap peas, bell pepper and grape tomatoes, while I was busy preparing a refrigerated salad for us for dinner consisting of vegetables and pulses, their impudent little faces appealed for more treats as the irresistible flavours of the vegetables reached their acquisitive little snouts.