It was an obvious plot cooked up by that mischievous trio, organized by nature abetted by April and carried through by a recalcitrant winter. We were caught by surprise, but that just goes to show us how gullible we are when winter tells us 'bye-'bye. The old man just doesn't mean it. He'll go in his own sweet time. We might have grinned and clicked our tongues if it happened on April 1st, but they're crafty; no surprise on that date, but it certainly was a week later.

So, that's Ottawa weather in a nutshell. Whatever you expect, that seems reasonable given the time of year just forget about it. We  just stood transfixed, staring at the white exterior when we came down this morning after an all-night rain. After all, the winter shovels have been placed in storage, our winter jackets washed and put away until next year. Who needs snow?

 

It sat there for an hour or two until the temperature rose, then began melting. Helped along by more rain. So we thought, could be the likelihood of getting out today, like yesterday, would be nil. Speaking to our granddaughter they had yesterday's rain and were shut out of their hike through their own woods, but no snow over in their area, south-west of Ottawa. They had early sun for their woodland hike today.

 

So Irving went downstairs to his workshop to keep wrangling with his stained glass door insert. And I  busied myself in the kitchen. I had decided on baking coconut cupcakes for a change. They don't get frosted with icing; the cupcake tops are covered with (usually raspberry) strawberry jam, then dipped in coconut. There was a bakery in north Toronto that used to make them; 'Madeleins', and I began baking them on occasion when our children were young.

 

As things turned out, we did have an opportunity to get out with Jackie and Jillie. All of us geared in raincoats. The temperature had risen to 5C, and we thought we'd try to outrun any prospective new rain. That's just what we managed to do. On our arrival back home afterward, the sun came out. Followed quickly by rain.

 

Out in the ravine on the trails more snow and ice had melted, thanks to the pouring rain of the day before. The creek was once again swollen with snowmelt and rain, rushing through the forest to the Ottawa River far beyond. But more of the trails were released from the ice and that's a good thing.  Even so, on the icy surfaces that remain, Jillie, attempting to race ahead, skittered and slid on the rain-smoothed icy surface.

I've been 'dogged' all day. Jackie and Jillie following my every footstep. Wondering why we weren't going out for a lively jaunt through the forest trails today. Even though every time they're invited to go outdoors to the backyard they shrink back in horror at the very thought of 'voluntarily' rushing out into the rain. But they do respond to orders; not Jackie, he willingly dashes out the door and down to the backyard from the deck. It's Jillie who prefers to remain dry under the deck canopy and who grudgingly obeys when I tell her that isn't an option.

Once they came back indoors and each has a good towel rubdown (that, they enjoy, especially rubbing around their little faces and ears) they want to play. With me. So I oblige. Except that, although they're really good at playing together and rough-housing all over the place, they're stymied when it comes to playing with someone else. They race after me, hop up to capture my hands, my fingers, draw on my clothing, so I stop to play.

 Jackie interprets 'playing' as an opportunity to take my fingers into his mouth and apply gentle pressure. Apart from stroking them and speaking to them, there isn't much 'playing' that occurs between us. Playing with Button, our miniature poodle, really was playing. She responded in kind. Throw the ball and she'd happily race after it and either bring it back, or sit at the top of the stairs and let it bounce back down to me for another throw.

And Riley, our tiny toy poodle knew what playing was all about. I'd feint a manoeuvre and he would pounce. We'd have a game of pull-and-push. Sweep your hand under his legs and he'd dance the Light Fantastic to maintain balance. Jackie and Jillie? Nada. Both Button and Riley loved their toys and especially enjoyed me playing with their toys with them, the squeaky ones in particular.

No chance to get out at all. It was the first time we could recall that Environment Canada gave a 100% forecast for rain. We had a dark morning and rain, rain rain. On into the afternoon and promising to last at least the evening. But the forecast also warned that Friday and Saturday would be rain-filled days. The garden soil is lapping it up. It's creating little ponds here and there. Yesterday, when I began edging the borders I could see bulbs reacting to the change, pushing up little green shoots here and there. Today the edging spaces resemble little rivers.

Last night the smaller of the two raccoons that regularly come around arrived for a prolonged visit, intent on eating as many of the buttered bread squares as he could manage. He managed very well, then turned his attention to the biscuits and peanuts.  Earlier, the rabbit was about on the porch, raiding peanuts and carrots. In a short while, all the snow will be gone, the soil nicely warmed and vegetation will return. They'll be on their own, then.

And we'll finally be able to clean up the accumulated mess of their constant presence. The squirrels will get up to their usual mischief, digging up newly-planted annuals and bulbs, messing up the planting in the garden pots, cheeky little devils. The garden seat on the porch needs a good soapy rub-down to remove the evidence that the porch has been a busy winter feeding station...

When we exited the ravine yesterday Irving checked the group mail box, something he does only a few times weekly. There was his art and antiques magazine for April. And Canada Post had also delivered the anti-COVID masks we had ordered.

So wasn't I surprised yesterday when I discovered that April 5's entry of this blog had been censored and was removed for the crime of  including material unfit for human consumption. An assault upon Google's terms and conditions of use which forbids any kind of indecency, hate-mongering, posting of unadulterated lies harmful to society, and, of course, proscribed pornography. 

 

 

I just stared at the message. WOT??? But there it was, that innocent little blog entry with its endearing photographs of two little dogs and a bevy of small wild creatures placed in the trash heap. Can any blog entry be more anodyne than one written by an 85-year-old lover of nature? I suppose everything is in the eye of the beholder. Beholding the contents of that blog, reading the narrative, blinking at the photographs I would have suspected most readers would think nothing amiss with it.

 

 

They obviously lack the eagle eye of Google's busy little critics. So what do I know about the impermissible, after all? I changed some of the wording, thinking that might do the trick. Then re=posted. And it seemed to work, but then I'm a complete neophyte and had no idea how to react to rectify the situation. I thought it was back up. This morning I discovered otherwise. So I fiddled about and wrote a rather sarcastic note to the powers-that-be.

 

 

It's back up again. Leaving me to wonder: How did I transgress? On the other hand, does it really matter? In the sense that I spend valuable time putting it together, it matters to me, even if low on the scale of matters of importance. Perhaps it's the stubborn me that doesn't like being put down for no good (or at least discernible) reason.

 

 

We had a simple meal yesterday, quick to prepare and hitting all the right nutrition and taste notes. I was able to use the broccoli that Irving traded for Harvard beets the evening before, to make a cream of broccoli soup.With it, grilled cheese sandwiches and sliced fresh plums for dessert. Light but satisfying. This evening's dinner will be a little bit more substantial. I'd forgotten I had a package of ground veal in the freezer and tucked it into the refrigerator last night to begin unthawing.

 

 

And then, when we returned from our hike through the ravine this afternoon, I set about making a meat pie of it. Inclusive of olive oil-simmered chopped onion and garlic, grated potato and carrot to join the veal, along with tomato paste, allspice, nutmeg and pepper for flavouring. 

 

The weather was an absolute delight. So beautiful, with the sun out and at that point the temperature had reached 11.4C, so I hauled an edger out of the garden shed and used it to begin clarifying the garden beds. The soil was much, much too wet, but I persisted. I really want to do the garden beds and borders at the front of the house, once all the snow has left. For that I'll have to wait.

 

 

Apart from cleaning the bathrooms and laying out new towels in preparation for laundry day tomorrow, I thought I'd give the furniture dusters and the dry floor mophead a good hot, soapy wash. Since it was a perfect day to put everything out on the deck to drip-dry.

 

By the time we were ready to set out for our ravine hike, the day had become even warmer, gaining another few degrees. So we wore light jackets and Jackie and Jillie none. We're expecting three consecutive days of rain beginning tomorrow, so we thought we'd do well to stay out for a good long time and extend our hike through the trails. No complaints from Jackie and Jillie.

 

 

We had thought that yesterday was a perfect early spring day, but today's weather topped yesterday's. The sky clear, a vast ocean of blue, the wind barely perceptible, and an all-enveloping warmth. Jackie and Jillie seemed as taken as we were with the delight of the weather, and they scampered happily downhill into the ravine, racing ahead of us, finding all manner of fascinating messages left for their attention from the other canine habitues of the ravine. We obediently followed them.

 

 

Since Monday is the designated cleaning day in this household, it's always a busy day. Most other days also have their clean-up component, but Monday is the day that everything gets done. With the exception of the kitchen and the bathrooms; they have their own days. Even with Irving helping and doing all the vacuuming it takes hours and hours. The need for full disclosure, however, compels me to admit that I take a whole lot of breaks.

Taking Jackie and Jillie out to the backyard, for example, multiple times. While we were having our breakfast this morning, I happened to glance out the patio doors and saw robins splashing about in the birdbath. All the ice that had sat in the birdbath over winter has melted, and three robins and a chickadee were having a whale of a time.

While out there with the puppies I always scrutinize the soil to see whether anything is yet poking through. Too soon. Nothing on the rose canes, the clematis vines, but lilies that always begin as soon as the snow melts, even before the frost has completely left the soil, are beginning to shoot through. Truth told, it's much too early for anything yet. Chives and grape hyacinth won't be long in coming, and the miniature iris bulbs.

I also take some 'time off' when I'm passing the front door to see who's there. When I shake out my dusters there's often one or two black squirrels and they hardly move out of the way. I had my camera at the ready this morning and caught a tiny chipmunk filling its pouch with peanuts. Irving and I have on occasional expressed wonder at the number of carrots one little rabbit can eat. Neither of us thought the squirrels would have any interest in carrots. For the first time this morning I saw a tiny red squirrel grasp a carrot as large as it was and carry it off, leaping with it onto a tree. So much for that.

And oh yes, frequent brief sit-downs at my computer to check in on Twitter and see what's happening there. So I dawdle, caught by an item that must be read and given thought, or responded to. It's kind of mesmerizing, and easy to forget how long I've been sitting there... Eventually, however, the last of the floors gets washed, the dusting and mopping is done, and we're free to go. Irving finishes up long before I do, even though he did some work in his workshop before embarking on the vacuuming.

This has been a much milder day, topping off at 9.1C. We had morning sun and light wind, but by the time we set off for the ravine, clouds had moved in. Still, it seemed almost balmy, so no sweaters for Jackie and Jillie, only their halters. The obligatory stop when we first enter the ravine to dole out tiny cookies for the two. It is now engrained in their memories that there are specific points throughout out circuit that they can rely on for treats.

And when familiar dogs come bounding along, skidding to a halt beside Irving, our two know that they'll be getting bonus cookies, since Irving can't dole them out to others and ignore the plight of poor, undernourished and forgotten Jackie and Jillie.

There is one area of the trail system that can be relied upon every spring to stubbornly hold on to its ice. It won't be ice-free for at least a month, long after other areas in the trail system have shed theirs. We will eventually have to bypass that area and set off on our circuits from a different direction until the ice eventually melts. Because once the balance of the trails have lost their ice we'll be able to take off our cleats and replace our winter boots with hiking boots.

I was planning to cook breaded chicken livers to serve alongside mashed potatoes and broccoli for dinner tonight. But when Irving asked what we're having with the livers after I asked if he wanted fried onions with them, he turned thumbs down on the broccoli and started in on how more appropriate with liver and potatoes beets would be. So, beets it is.

Tomorrow's a different kind of busy day. The weekly food shopping and Jackie's and Jillie's appointment at the groomer's. That's when the broccoli can be turned into cream of broccoli soup and we can pair the soup with grilled cheese sandwiches...

 

Can we not be tolerant of others and respect their life choices without having to become involuntarily involved in their private lives? Exposure to people's traditions, religions, culture should be a voluntary issue, one inspired by curiosity and a willingness to discover -- should that be the impulse -- more about what motivates people to act as they do. Public displays of private lifestyles simply indicate a lack of respect for the sensibilities and sensitivities of other people.

Religion, like sex, is a private matter between people who think alike, act alike, share values between them that others do not. It really has no place in the public sphere. All the more so when it makes no sense. Prayer is meant to be an intimate act between a believer and their faith. To make a public display of a mass prayer session in celebration of belief coupled with special occasions that have great meaning to the faithful is not a symbol of graciousness but one of disrespect.

Thousands of Muslims living in New York amassed in Times Square on the second day of April for a group prayer that ostensibly has special meaning for Ramadan. This is a prayer meant to be recited in a house of worship and mosques abound wherever sufficient numbers of Muslims reside. Prayers fervently delivered to the ear of the Almighty have their place in the privacy of one's home. Alternately in a natural setting where an intimate moment between the believer and the spirit of belief can be held.

It is an affront to people not of that faith in a wide community comprised of people of many faiths, to be confronted by a scene of a huge gathering of thousands in the public sphere. It is an exclusionary act, defiant of the feelings of others. It is also a missionary act in recognition of many religions' injunction to their faithful to recognize their obligation to the faith in proselytizing, an act offensive to some degree to others, infringing on their own rights not to be accosted.

HISTORY!!!! April 2nd!!
@thezamzamproject proudly brings you, The first EVER Taraweeh prayer in TIMES SQUARE!!!! Starting at 8pm!!
Free iftar will be provided!!
Come join us as we recite the Quran in Times Square for EVERYONE to hear!
Please click the link in my bio to sign up for the free iftar!
Please come & join us give DAWAH to the non-muslims so we can explain our beautiful religion to them.
Come help renew your emaan & give dawah!
Stand with muslims in solidarity as we teach people about Islam all while enjoying some beautiful recitation!
BRING YOUR FRIENDS!!!!
Who’s coming!?!!

It's one thing being in a Muslim-majority country where the norm is the Muezzin's call to prayers, sound familiar and beloved to the faithful sent from a minaret over a landscape that is home to Muslims. When in those circumstances, a non-Muslim sees the minaret, hears the musical invitation, it is an exotic, magic moment; familiar and inspiring to the residents, an odd and beautiful moment to the visitor redolent of history and religious culture.

In that Muslim-majority country wherever it is in the world of Islam, public prayer of the kind that visited New York City and previously, London, England, is appropriate and undoubtedly appreciated. Elsewhere it can be interpreted as an affront, an uncalled-for gathering that is alien and even frightening to those unfamiliar with the religion's culture of entitlement, pride and obligation to proselytize. 

To most Muslims their religion is the 'only true' religion; all others pretenders. Faith in a higher order is common throughout humanity, throughout the ages. Monotheism is not a pillar of faith specific only to Islam; it is a singular precept introduced by Judaism, a religion that vastly pre-dates Islam and from which the Prophet Mohammad was motivated to borrow generously when codifying his religious inspiration.  

To most Muslims theirs is a religion of peace. To non-Muslims who have experienced an explosion of Islamist violence in the interests of jihad over the past few decades, it is manifestly not a religion of peace. Where Islam identifies non-Muslim countries as 'houses of war' and their own 'houses of peace' this translates as an obligation for peaceful Islam to struggle against warring non-Muslim nations.

The public exhibition of group prayer in a populous multi-religious society whose foundation is one of Christian belief does little to dispel that image of the Wahhabist-Muslim-Brotherhood-Salafist assault on New York City on September 11, 2001.

 

It's April. Nice to be out of March, finally. April is when serious anticipation of gardening opportunities kick in. Once all the snow and ice has completely melted away, clean-up time will present itself. Warmer days, finally, when the earthy odour of the soil being disturbed by rakes floods our consciousness with its warmth and promise of a new season. By then the bulbs will have begun poking their green and red shoots out of the frost-free soil.

First off, clean-up...all the detritus that has fallen mostly from the trees, with twigs and old foliage littering  the ground and parts of perennials waiting to be cut back even further. Most of the garden clean-up is done in the fall, but spring brings its own period of putting things in order. I have plans ... doesn't everyone? I brought some some seed packets when last we were out shopping. They'll eventually go into the warmed soil and with them will arise expectations.

 

It isn't,though, thoughts of late spring, flowering bulbs and tidying up the garden that consumes my mind at the moment. It's the household spring cleaning I'm newly grappling with. Not by actually physically starting any of the cupboard cleaning activities, just musing ... thinking about it. When to start.  Taking down the sheers in our bedroom, the family room, dining room, living room and washing them.

Replacing winter clothing with summer stuff and washing things in preparation for laying them away. Making order in places where clutter prevails. All in good time. And that's about what it will take; a good amount of time in my already-busy ordinary household cleaning schedule. I had planned to start today by cleaning out two bathroom vanity cupboards. Planned, not executed. It takes time, where's the time on a Saturday when you want to just rest and that's that.

Well, I did wash Jackie's and Jillie's winter halters and their heavy winter jackets. They won't be needing them any more this season. They haven't worn them in almost a month, when substitutes seemed more than adequate with mostly above-freezing temperatures. 

Jackie and Jillie took us out early this afternoon for a hike through the forest trails. Yesterday's foray through the trails wasn't as pleasant as we anticipated because there was a cutting wind and it felt as though we were back in the deep-freeze of January under deeply clouded skies. Today the sun was shining and though the temperature was similar to yesterday's the wind was nowhere near as insistent.

Each succeeding day more of the forest floor absent of snow and ice is revealed. But for one area, the entire network of woodland trails benefited from a milder evening where the temperature stayed just on the cusp of freezing. The ice is far more forgiving now, our cleats biting deeply into areas given over to slush. One young woman wearing rubber boots walking a large hound mix was trepidatiously making her way along off the main trail in a slight descent. I offered her a hand which must have seemed strange to her; a reversal of age roles as it were.

We saw, in fact, few others out on the trails. Their condition at this time of year tends to keep most people unaccustomed to tramping the trails in all seasons, stay clear of them. Which resulted for us in a tranquil, much-appreciated hour-and-a-half of rarely-interrupted appreciation of nature in transition from winter sleep to spring awakening.

Right this very moment, late afternoon, the sun is out, brightening the interior of the house. But simultaneously it's also snowing. Light flurries, to be sure, but snowing. And sunny. So go figure. When we were out in the ravine earlier with Jackie and Jillie it was heavily overcast. We had morning rain earlier in the day because the temperature was high enough at that time.

Irving decided to go out shortly after breakfast -- after he had done some house vacuuming -- to bring home lumber he needed for a new project. So, off he went and was gone for hours. When he returned he brought with him some unexpected things. He had gone to the lumber yard but didn't find what he needed. But because he was out so long, he thought he'd better leave another yard to another day. Since he had gone to the bank as well as Lowe's he decided to drop in at a few other places.

 He gets the urge to do that occasionally, and today was one of those days. He bought himself two pair of jeans and a new pair of house slippers to replace his worn ones. He never forgets me. I had commented on how shabby an old bedspread looked on our bed. I like to have one bedspread for the winter months and another for summer. He brought back a bedspread, one I would have chosen myself; big on foliage, a white background and lots of green.

And then he was anxious to have me try on a little summer dress he chose and bought for me. It was in fact, exactly a style and colour I would have chosen myself. An Empire-waisted strappy light-fabric summer dress with a wide skirt. And it fit perfectly. He was pleased and so was I. Jackie and Jillie not so much. Dark background, sprinkled with flowers. 

I had earlier, while he was away, done my baking and some dinner preparations. We had some very large, crisp 'Prince' apples grown in Ontario and that's what I used to make an apple pie. Although I used cinnamon to flavour the pie, I also cut up crystallized ginger and added dark Thompson raisins. I had cut out little hearts on the top crust, and perhaps they had floated out on the ether despite the overcast sky, to find Irving and spur his shopping muse.

Last night we had a lovely colourful salad to preface our main course; baked salmon and oven-'fried' potato chips. We had black plums from Chile and hard little pears from Portugal, so I decided to prepare a compote and that's what we had for dessert, last evening. 

Soon after Irving returned home from his shopping trip Jackie and Jillie demanded that we get serious about the quality of the day. And we agreed. The rain had stopped, and it was time to venture out into the snow-melting woods. Emerging from the house I was taken aback at how cold the atmosphere was, the wind whip-sharp and icy. 

It was also gratifying to discover as we entered the ravine and began our descent that the quality of the ice spread over the trails had changed. Last night's rain ensured the temperature hadn't dipped below freezing. Although it was cold when we were out by afternoon, the temperature as we left the house read 4.5C; it just didn't feel that mild. Yet the slick ice of yesterday and the day before had become grainy, so that our cleats sank into the ice rather than carry us sliding and slipping. Without the cleats we would have slipped and slid.

So, apart from freezing, we were able to stride along with confidence, and clamber up- and down-hill with few difficulties, even when sliding backward on the ice-cum-slush. Jackie and Jillie had some company and we had some laughs when a number of dogs we know, on separate occasions came running lickety-split to confront Mr. Cookie-man. And, as it happened, before we left the ravine on the completion of our circuit, snow flurries dappled the atmosphere.