He always likes to prepare at least one meal while he's with us, so on this occasion our youngest son did a dish that had cauliflower, brussels sprouts, minced chicken, onions and garlic in it, and which also had coconut milk in its preparation. It looked good and tasted good, but as usual didn't quite fit the bill for Irving who did his best to eat as much of it as he could stomach, not to disappoint Jordan. I always find the meals that Jordan prepares to be good tasting and they top the nutritious charts as well. His father refers to his son's recipes as "camp food", resembling the kinds of meals he himself always prepared when we were out wilderness camping. Which Jordan and I always ate with gusto, and Irving invariably pecked at, even though he was the chef.

This time around, all three of us had stomach-upset symptoms that were hard to ignore in the aftermath of that dinner, so I searched on line and discovered that coconut milk does strange things to many people, as it was obviously doing to us; we were bloated, gassy and made frequent trips to the bathroom. A somewhat chastened Jordan offered a few days later to make tiramisu for one of our desserts, and we thought that might be a good idea.

All the ingredients were assembled; ladies' fingers, eggs, sugar, and mascarponi, and Jordan set about putting it all together; cooking the egg yolks and sugar together in a double boiler, whipping the egg whites, mixing the mascarponi with coffee and with rum, and finally layering it all in a casserole to 'mature' in the refrigerator. I'd never made the dish before, and we found it quite excellent, albeit pretty rich in its nutrition-density. And Jordan was pleased he had a culinary success for us. It's a dish he's made before when having friends over for dinner and has always been well received.

Yesterday I gave our little Jack-and-Jill haircuts. They were obediently patient, only fidgety about the process now and again, allowing me to snip away hair from their muzzles, feet, and finally when the most sensitive parts were done, their entire delicately slight bodies. They needed to wear boots out in the ravine yesterday along with their winter coats against the icy cold and the wind, but the loss of their shaggy hair didn't seem to bother them comfort-wise.

I put together a casserole dish yesterday evening, thinly slicing potatoes to layer on the bottom of a buttered dish, sprinkled them with finely chopped green onions, and microwaved florets of cauliflower. Then I made a white sauce, using lots of pepper and dried thyme, adding Parmesan cheese to the thickening milk sauce. I grated old cheddar over the chopped green onions, sprinkled the cauliflower on top, then poured the slightly cooled sauce over everything, finally topping it all with panko sprinkled with more grated cheddar. It was baked in a little broiler-oven until bubbly and crisp on top.

Ladled onto our plates it didn't look beautiful, but it did please Irving's taste and that's mostly due to the presence of the potatoes which had been partially caramelized by the butter I'd sprinkled over the slices before the chopped onions. I'd try it again, perhaps adding canned salmon under the cauliflower to see how that medley turns out.

They've got tiny paws because they're small dogs. And so, they are good in the out-of-doors for prolonged exposure up to minus six degrees C as long as there's no newfallen snow. The past several days has seen daytime highs of minus ten degrees and with fresh snow, so that means their little paws will freeze if they're exposed for too long, as they are during our ravine walks.

That translates to their having to wear boots. We've got the Mukluks brand of boots for them, and they're a right royal pain to put on our little dogs. This despite the fact that we've been accustomed to using little dog booties for our pets for decades in the winter months when conditions mandate them. I used to make the boots myself out of leather and fleecy fabric and thongs, but we've found the Mukluks' design and manufacture superior, so have resorted to using them.

A right royal pain also describes the condition of the ravine trails after the several days of relentless rain we had latterly, followed by a flash freeze. During the rain events when people went out at breaks in the downpour they (we) tramped through the sodden trails which became pocked by bootprints. Deeply so. Now the trails are full of ridges and deep holes. They're slippery and treacherous, icy and awkward. Instead of striding along with confidence, we are reduced to walking in carefully mincing steps to try to avoid twisting ankles or falling.

So we can commiserate with Jackie and Jillie over their confusion at suddenly finding their feet encased in something strange. When we put the boots on their legs and deposit them on the floor they try to lift all of their feet simultaneously, prancing like Lipizzaners. While it's an amusing spectacle for us, they're puzzled. But game, and it doesn't take all that long before they forget the strangeness of it, and begin to romp about lifting their legs high and taking to galloping along in the woods with the sheer joy of being there.

Dogs are particularly fond of snowy atmospheres, it invigorates them and sends them into a tizzy of pleasure. And we enjoyed watching our two little imps prancing over the trails whose hollows and ridges didn't seem to bother them at all, as they did us. They whizzed past us and leaped and bounded with pleasure in the new-falling snow. As for us, with enough of these fresh snow events the trail will eventually smooth out and no longer present a walking hazard.

Apart from their intelligence, our children have inherited their father's artistic capabilities augmented by curiosity and a propensity to explore a world of aesthetic devotion to complement their focus on their various choices of professional expertise. In our youngest son's case, as a biologist he loves nature and the out-of-doors to which he was introduced at an early age by us indulging in our own love of the natural world.

Living on the West Coast of this great country he has immediate exposure to nature on a truly grand scale with easy access to the ocean, to mountains and the kind of geological terrain that satisfies the spirit of adventure that he is imbued with. Mountain hiking, canoeing, kayaking, skiing, camping out in wilderness areas all appeal to his bonding with and contemplation of nature.

Yet among his other interests there is the attraction of wood, and working with wood to build pieces of furniture by hand, without modern tools, relying only on antique hand tools to produce finely designed and realized armoires, tables, and lowboys in the style of the 18th and 19th centuries.

And then there is his fascination with pottery. He has belonged to a pottery club for decades, working out of the University of British Columbia. And we have been the grateful recipients of many pieces of pottery that he has produced over the years. Some of them, like pie plates and casserole dishes I use, but many more I do not for fear, through my notorious physical clumsiness born of always working at break-neck speed, of breaking.

This most recent trip in early January that brought him first to Ottawa for a week then on to Newfoundland where he attended an annual conference on his field of science, gifted us with yet another lovely piece of pottery to be treasured, a large bowl with a beautiful blending of finished fired colour that now graces our breakfast room table.

After yesterday's all-day rain, but for a brief period in the morning when we were able to get out for an early ravine walk, the forest trees have been divested of their enchanted appearance that a covering of snow always gifts them with. They're now stark and bare. And will become even more so as this fresh day of continuous heavy rain progresses.

Once again, we embarked on a ravine walk before breakfast, because the rain that we've been warned will be coming down in buckets -- about 25 to 30 mm-worth -- aided and abetted by high winds, was to begin in mid-morning. Again, as occurred yesterday morning, before we were through our ravine circuit the rain did begin tentatively several times, but benevolent nature waited until we'd returned home before unleashing the day's anticipated full fury of wind and rain.

We were glad to have the opportunity both days to get out for our regular walk; good for our little puppies and good for us as well. In today's full-throttle rainfall-and-wind we'll stick around home. Yesterday's rain was lighter in nature, albeit penetrating and we'd gone up to Elgin Street in downtown Ottawa, to stop in at Mags and Fags for Irving's monthly arts&antiques fixes. Our usual magazine venue at Byward Market has been disappointing of late; though they carry a full range of magazines the regular deliveries of the particular papers and magazines Irv looks for haven't been arriving.

In the rain downtown people were everywhere aimlessly walking about, clutching coffee cups (the presence of coffee emporiums is ubiquitous; there's even one that calls itself 'The Ministry of Coffee', alongside all the Starbucks, Tim Horton's and other coffee shops) as they perambulated singly or in pairs or groups. Just to get out, doubtless, and especially on such dark, dismal, wet days, with and without umbrellas or rainjackets. People of all kinds of visible ethnic backgrounds can be seen; Ottawa has absorbed them all, and newcomers learn quickly to adapt to the prevailing atmosphere and weather, often with a little bit of encouragement from previous waves of immigrants.

This morning's ravine walk reflected the rain-ravages of snow melting in mild temperatures and moisture, our boots sinking deep into the trail, making passage difficult and certainly requiring far more of a physical effort. Jackie and Jillie on the other hand, just treat these situations as fun challenges because they are, after all, impish puppies delighted to be out and about in the woods. Rewarded when they come across other dog that they have previously met and befriended.

For the rest of this day, persistent, lavish amounts of rainfall, certain to further diminish the snowpack. Overnight, however, the temperature is set to drop significantly and that will result in a flash-freeze situation, alleviated, thank heavens, by the rain turning to snow and if enough of the white stuff does accumulate while it won't compensate for what we'll have lost, it can accomplish the good deed of covering up the icy conditions that would otherwise prevail underfoot.

Weather news and updates, particularly at this time of year represent a major concern in this region. Just a few days ago, a man driving along an overpass on Highway 416 lost control of his vehicle which plunged, upside down onto the highway below, killing him instantly. Snowbanks are regularly removed from overpasses; evidently this time conditions were not ideal, leading to the tragedy.

There's a new weather advisory for the next few days. We had about an inch of snow fall overnight rather than the freezing rain that had been predicted, and that was fine. Not so fine the rain to follow.

So we thought it best to get out for a ravine hike while we could, which meant showering, giving Jack and Jill their breakfast, and setting off for an early morning ravine walk, planning to have our own breakfast on our return. Which we did, finding that the new snow had nicely plumped up the snowpack covering all the detritus that had fallen from the trees after the last snowfall a few days earlier, driven by a high wind. Which in turn translates to fewer opportunities for Jack and Jill to browse about for bits of plant matter to ingest. Which suits us just fine.

It was mild, better we had worn lighter jackets, but no matter. Difficult to tell where the colour change is from the sky to the ground in these conditions. Each has that luminous white-pewter look, one reflecting the other. Yesterday although it was equally cloudy, the sun kept trying to nudge the clouds apart, and it appeared as a giant, effervescently shimmering globe of surpassing beauty. Nothing could be seen in the densely opaque cloud cover that shielded the sky from view today.

Surprisingly enough we came across a fair number of other people out walking their dogs as well, giving Jackie and Jillie the opportunity to have some playmate-enhanced run-abouts. By the time we were three-quarters of our way through our walk-about we felt the first drops of rain, closing in on nine o'clock. It took no time at all for the rain, which was predicted to begin around noon, to pick up, and by the time we reached home the rain was light, but emphatic.

Tomorrow, however, we've been forewarned, will be a day that likely won't allow a ravine walk, the rain far too heavy to head out and find pleasure in and certain as well to wash away a significant proportion of the snowpack, leading, we've been informed, to flash flooding. And the day after? Why freezing, of course, so we'll have icy pathways and highways to contend with. Hence the concern over weather and conditions it brings to this area.

We mostly hung out, as Jordan would say. Other than for one hour-and-a-half-trip (each way) to visit with his sister and our granddaughter, we just kicked around our place, as it were. Going out for daily hikes in the ravine. Jordan on either cross-country or Telemark skis. He brought along a pair of ski boots to augment what's here, but the skis are permanently placed here for his use when he visits in the winter.

He accompanied us on our daily ravine walks, but he also went out skiing on his own at different times of the day, far more pleasurable for him, not necessitating that he be continually aware of where our two little black rascals were in proximity to his ski poles and skis at all times. Given their propensity to be everywhere at once, at all times.

Fortunately, the weather was with us for all but two days of his eight-day stay with us. Mostly sunny, cold, a bit of wind, just perfect for hiking about in the woods. And enough hilly terrain to make skiing fun. From time to time we see another person out on skis, the same person we've seen for decades, and some come along on snowshoes, but mostly it's hikers in the ravine.

Jack and Jill hardly knew what to make of seeing Jordan on skis; at first they thought skiing represented something threatening. Certainly to them the spectacle of someone gliding along on long flat pieces of wood seemed awry, unnatural, suspicious. Rounds of barking eventually gave way to fun-chases and our having to call them back as they frolicked in Jordan's swift wake down hills. Needless to say their presence, even as controlled as we could make it, would represent a nuisance to any skier. It was all good fun, though.

In the presence of our youngest son I always feel re-invigorated, as though I've dropped a few years of my advanced age. My progress up and down the hills was noticeably speedier, and I strode along with an alacrity I haven't felt in quite awhile. Odd, how our mental state is so instrumental in mandating our physical state, but there it is.

The two days of sub-zero temperatures that descended on us were ones we let pass by without venturing into the ravine for our usual hikes. Jordan, on the other hand, took that opportunity to get out without us on his skis and had a pest-free (which is to say no Jackie-and-Jillie) nipping at the back of his skis) run through the ravine.

Yesterday from a morning low of minus-12 Celsius the temperature speedily rose to minus-1, which made for a most pleasant winter hike, full sun compensating for the wind.

This morning we left the house at 8:00 am because Jordan's flight was booked for ten, stopping over in Toronto on the way to Newfoundland where in St.John's, he'll be attending a science conference in his field of biology. Over the week he spent with us, much of it was spent working up his contribution to the conference.

I had a sleep-disturbed night last night, the usual for me when a visit with our youngest child with whom in the past we spent so much time on camping, canoeing, mountain hiking ventures, comes to an end and he prepares to leave. He may be 53, but I haven't been able to shake the conviction that he's our baby, irrespective of how old he is, and I miss all of our children.

It's entirely conceivable that we have our little dogs as a replacement, filling a bit of a vacuum in our lives, as though we need someone around us in our day-to-day lives to be concerned with.

When we left the house we drove into rush-hour traffic, of course, and we noticed there was some ice fog resulting in all the trees being layered with hoar-frost, one of nature's many lovely visual permutations in the winter months. The airport was surrounded by fog, but over on the distant horizon there was the sun, brilliantly attempting to burn through the opaque white veil.