These are the summer days we can appreciate, not the too-hot, too-humid, too-windy and too-rainy ones that we tolerate out of the goodness of our hearts and because we do our object best not to complain too often to nature who works so hard to please us when it pleases her to do so. We had a somewhat coolish morning that warmed up to 24C by afternoon. The cool air and the warming sun invited Jackie and Jillie to hie themselves out to the deck and loll about in the sun for awhile.

And it was a perfect time to wander about the backyard, enjoying the\ fresh light kiss of the air on bare skin along with the warmth, not yet having the opportunity to turn the backyard into the heat-box it so closely resembles in the midst of summer. Jackie and Jillie content to wander in our wake, as long as we remained outdoors, so would they, but not a second longer.

Another busy day, doing household things on schedule and adding to them on the spur of the moment. After breakfast and our discussion of news events, Irving left the house to run a few errands and to get the oil changed in the car. The morning paper had given ample warning, as it has been doing lately, of the new B5 variant of Omicron that has cut a swath through Europe of sickness that the world could well do without. Yes, that's nature's work, too. And it's having a deleterious impact on area hospitals.

Among other things I thought I'd do was to finally 'bite the bullet' and polish silver flatware. Although we've had that set for at least fifty years, an heirloom boxed set with an incredible number of pieces, I haven't polished it for many years, and it's beginning to look neglected and tarnish is setting in. It's kind of ritualistic, that set because of its large pieces -- huge tablespoons perfect for slurping up chicken soup -- we use it for Friday night dinners.

Scrubbing about in the cleaning cupboard I could only find a small container of Silvo. But at some point I had also bought a powder solution you're supposed to use with boiling water, aluminum foil and patience. So I used it first, wasn't impressed and turned to the Silvo. Miserable work cleaning silver. Then Irving arrived back home and brought up a product from his workshop and it did the trick.

Then we were free to get ourselves and Jackie and Jillie out to the ravine. All but one of the laundry loads had been done by then, and I intended to do the ironing on our return. Something else that in modern society isn't often done; ironing. But I prefer cotton linen for bedsheets and they need ironing as do cotton garments.

Once again we were privileged to have the trails to ourselves and we deduced that people like us, wedded to daily jaunts through the ravine now prefer early morning hikes. We do as well, but usually only when the days are hot and humid, and today wasn't. It's restful being out there, serenely peaceful as we amble along the trails, puff up the ascents and lope the descents. Close to the creek we can see on its opposite bank the emergence of large-headed bright yellow Black-eyed Susans. 

Closer to our visual vantage points are the still-succession-blooming thimbleberries flaunting the beauty of their pink petals turning even brighter and transparent in the glare of the sun. These daily forays into the ravine bring balance and comfort to our lives and certainly benefit our two little dogs. Theirs is a ritual of anticipation in that when we're in the ravine they know they'll be given tiny cookie treats on our way through the trails.

And when we return home another ritual awaits that they're anxious not to miss; a freshly cut-up vegetable salad, their primary treat of the day, although they get another one after their evening meal. For them, nothing tops the vegetables prepared for them as special treats. Which still doesn't stop them from picking up twigs out on the trails to chew on, as I once, in my innocence, raw vegetable snacks  might.

 

Planning meals to match the season is sometimes a challenge. Seasonal aside, yesterday's all-day rain and cool albeit humid and dark atmosphere called out for comfort food. So we took comfort in beef patties done in a mushroom gravy served over rice, with green beans as a side dish. Since we'd just been shopping we also had fresh, sweet raspberries for dessert. I had baked cookies on that rainy day so chocolate cookies with butterscotch-sea-salt chips went well with the fruit.

 

Today, on the other hand, we've got a bright, sunny day, not too warm with a lovely breeze, and that calls for fun food. Nothing more fun to eat than pizza, and I've got the bread dough waiting in the refrigerator since Friday when I made it thinking I'd use it at some time during the week. If there was a contest between one type of meal over the other, Irving and I would be on opposite ends. His preference is for the comfort meal, mine for the fun treat.

 

We had an early afternoon trot through the ravine trails today on a day that couldn't be more perfect for it. Irving had mowed the back lawn, I'd cleaned the bathrooms and we were raring to go since yesterday's trek through the ravine eluded us thanks to the rain. The forest is full of pilotweed among the bracken on the forest floor and it's now beginning to flower. Its stems have grown quite tall this year, as have the fleabane, and most other wildflowers; constant rain has suited them all well.

 

The real surprise, though, was to find wild raspberries beginning to ripen, their tiny bright red heads beckoning, come pluck me! and that's just what Irving did. Although it's so early in the season we're seeing many wildflowers coming into bloom much earlier than usual. It makes sense that the edible berries follow suit.

 

Once we returned back home, the garden reminded me that I've neglected it for a whole week. There's just so much to be done. So, I gave J&J their afternoon salad, then put on my garden gloves and began tackling all the little garden chores awaiting my attention. I started by emptying the backyard birdbath of its water, then refilled it with clean, cool water. Behind me robins were singing.

 

Then I planted another pot of parsley, watered the garden pots in the backyard, and went over to the front garden. I trimmed the large old rosebush that had completed its June bloom, and cut back errant branches on one of the Sargenti crab trees as well as the ever-growing Japanese quince beside the side door of the house. Then I planted the flat of wax begonias we bought at a closing-up garden centre yesterday morning. I can always find places in the garden where I can shoehorn another few plants in.

 

The walkways were full of woody detritus, fallen leaves, petals, cedar bits and spruce needles, so that  got swept up and deposited in the compost. Finally, it was time to water the gardens and our many garden pots. That's when Jackie and Jillie stormed out of the house and rushed over to supervise. Irving sent me indoors and did the watering instead of me. He always does a more thorough job than I do. And there's the satisfaction that comes with finally tending to a bevy of little garden tasks awaiting to be attended to. 

 

Our next-door neighbours have just returned from a trip to Newfoundland and Labrador on an ocean liner. They're fond of taking these trips and this is the first they've indulged in since the start of the pandemic. They had a rip-roaring great time, really enjoyed themselves. Three years ago, their last trip was to Iceland and that was a treat too. Dan is always smiling, always good-natured with an impulse to be kind and thoughtful. Several years ago, he and Lynn, presumably because of our advancing age, decided to shovel our porch and walkway one winter. We thanked them and said it was all right, we could manage. 

 

The following summer they watched us do the usual things that require energy to maintain the exterior of a household and they realized we were still good to go. They've been retired about five years or so and have been travelling now and again, widening their horizons, so to speak. This trip also included a stop on the north shore of Quebec, way up there. They loved the quaint fishing villages with their colourful little houses pitched on solid rock in Newfoundland. They went whale-watching in Labrador.

 

It was cold up there in the north east coast of Canada, and they developed heavy colds in Labrador. While on the trip it was revealed that there were a number of active COVID cases discovered on board. When Dan and Lynn returned home they decided to get tested; Dan tested negative, Lynn tested positive. She's resting now. But the trip was well worth it, Dan assured us, and we believe him.

 

It rained here all day from the word go. Go, we did, early morning to do our grocery shopping. And while we were out we stopped at the pharmacy for a prescription renewal, went to a nearby Dollar store for a birthday card for our daughter-in-law's 60th birthday, then on to Farm Boy for fruit and some vegetables we weren't able to get at Food Basics. Each time we exited one of those places it was raining.

 

And continued to rain all day, with brief breaks. When we thought we'd make a run for it and try for a short circuit in the ravine, by the time we prepared to get out, the rain had picked up again, so we just set that idea aside for the day with Jackie and Jillie's concurrence. They know something is missing in their day, a day that was miserable from the start since they were left alone in the house while we shopped, but when given their 'druthers they prefer not to venture out into the rain.

 

The rain, just incidentally. has done a masterful job on the garden, nicely lacquering all the colours of the flowering plants, depositing little fat glistening pearls on foliage, and generally cleaning things up. And because we have lots of things to take our attention we don't mind the occasional day when it turns out we're better off staying home for a change.

 

 

Our younger son just returned from a five-day kayaking-camping trip in the Broughton Archipelago off Vancouver Island, where he saw and heard Humpback whales blowing. The sound so intense that at first it seems that they're right there, beside you, and not off in the visible distance. For the three nights he camped in that area before paddling on elsewhere to camp for several more days, he heard the blowing all night. Among the photos he sent us was one of a huge whale-watching expedition slipping through the passage.

You've got to be a bit of an environmentalist when nurturing a garden. There are always things to be done and someone has to do them. Though we haven't been plagued with them lately, at one time during the summer months our lilies were the unhappy beneficiaries of the presence of lily beetles. They're bright orange, just like some of the lilies, and difficult to get rid of. A spray of soapy water doesn't do it, even with pepper added or baking soda. What does work is to crush them. Yours truly does not indulge; the alternative is to drown them. They've got hard shells so if squeezing much pressure is advised.

They also leave a disgusting residue of offal into which they lay their eggs, piled on the stems of lilies that should be rubbed off, a most unpleasant task. We haven't missed their presence these past few years. Irving has now turned his attention to the problem of wilting plants when the garden soil dries between watering sessions. Those areas of the garden directly in sunlight for most of the day are a problem.

There's also the opposite problem, that of continued dampness. That happens when you've got a lot of trees hanging over garden beds and brickwork, that are forever dropping foliage, or berries or spent flowers. Moss loves the atmosphere of dampness and grows colourfully (some of them even send up delightful, tiny flowers) between walkway bricks. Actually, so do some plants that drop their seeds and 'babies' (like heuchera and poppies) in the most minute amount of soil in cracks where new plants spring up lustily and you've got to decide whether to live with them or yank them.

Within the next short while the garden beds are slated for mulching to address the problem of dryness. Irving is used to it, he's been doing it for years; spreading cedar mulch to ensure the soil has some assistance in retaining moisture. And he's also set himself once again the task of renewing the front lawn, so there are bags awaiting his dispersal of soil on the non-existent lawn left in disarray, full of gravel that is inimical to the growing of grass.

The joys of home ownership along with pleasure and pride in a garden meant we were late getting out for our ravine hike today, after the housecleaning was done. But we did get out, albeit later than usual because no summer day should be allowed to pass without making the most of an outdoor excursion...that's a little lesson patiently taught to us by Jackie and Jillie ... and before them, Button and Riley whose spirit appears to have invaded J&J.

Sunny, not too warm and breezy enough to keep the mosquitoes at bay, it couldn't have been more pleasant. A disturbing realization intruded, however, that we've seen very few bees, butterflies, dragonflies, damselflies, hoverflies and other flying creatures as yet this summer. We'd gladly trade any of them for mosquitoes. But nature isn't listening.

There's plenty for them to involve themselves with, as pollinators; blooming cowvetch and clover, tons of thimbleberries and cinquefoil and buttercups, and more latterly, Queen Anne's lace, and Black-eyed Susans, now joined by compass plants and panicles of elderberry flowers on their way to becoming edible berries.

 
 

On a sleep-in morning, following a breakfast of honeydew melon, banana, French toast and sausages, coffee and tea, there was work to be done. So much for a day of rest. No such thing. There's always something that needs to be done. Even if it's only cleaning up after oneself, which explains why beds must be made up, kitchens cleared away, bathrooms put in order, etcetera everlastingly. 

For Irving what took his attention was a planned shopping expedition. He picked up a few items at a grocery, then went on to several big box stores to see what could be had for his latest campaign of ameliorating the mess on our lawn that Bell has inflicted on us time and again. Not only did he select and bring home the items he was interested in, he came home to tell me of what he had seen and that led to a bit of a philosophical discussion.

Omicron knock-offs have been detected in alarming numbers in this city's wastewater. Apart from which and certainly linked to the fact that area hospitals are burgeoning with patients to accommodate, leaving them beyond overcapacity. Most alarming to parents of young children, hospital emergency rooms at children's hospitals are so busy they simply cannot see any more patients, and getting to see a personal family physician is becoming absurdly difficult.

Which brings us to my husband's observation when he was out. At the food stores we frequent all personnel wear masks. Those who shop at those stores for the most part also wear masks. Irving dropped by a few of the big box stores comparing their garden supply products and prices, then ended up at Walmart. There too the store personnel wore masks. But for the most part people shopping there eschewed mask-wearing. Provincial guidelines continue to recommend indoor mask-wearing, but the mandate was lifted weeks ago, freeing people up to chose their own personal COVID-avoidance solutions.

We were both agreed after some discussion, that this is a reflection of a cultural situation. And that culture is perhaps indicative of the people whom Walmart attracts, where relaxation of rules reflect a reflex reaction.

Since today turned out anything but hot at 24C, with a lovely breeze, and mostly sunny, we saw no need nor impulse to get ourselves out early to the ravine, and Jackie and Jillie were in full agreement. It was mid-afternoon by the time we sauntered up the street and into the ravine. And we discovered something else that we hadn't really thought much about. Morning hikes through the ravine appear to appeal to more people in the community than do afternoon hikes.

The result of which was that at the time we were threading through the forest trails, there were scant few others about. And Jackie and Jillie were just fine about that; they're of the impression in any event, that they're the stewards of the forest and all others trespassers. It's likely why they respond so negatively to the appearance of strangers having the unmitigated gall to access their personal territory without permission and they aren't about to give that assent.

Oh, and that shopping expedition occasioned the truck filled with bags of garden soil, grass seed, seed starter, to once again make the effort to return our lawn to its original condition that work crews fouled time and again, fixing Bell connections for Internet that failed repeatedly. On one occasion it was ours, on the other it was our neighbours' and the third time around it was to lay new upgraded cable, presumably in preparation for the 5G rollout. That'll be a lot of work for him to commit to, yet again.

He also brought back cedar mulch to spread over the garden beds and borders. Frustratingly, although we've had so much rain, the garden seems to dry out quickly, too quickly. So mulch-time it is, for a happier garden able to retain moisture for longer periods of time in between irrigation or rain events. Work, work and more work. And the reward is a healthy and colourful, hard-working summer garden.

 

Descending a long hill during our early morning outing through the forest trails today, we saw Rajinder crossing the bridge and climbing the hill toward us. We haven't seen her in the ravine for quite a while. She used to come out regularly for a crisp, no-nonsense turn through the forest trails. She liked the exercise, she found it refreshing, she liked the 'getting-away-from-it-all feeling' it gave her. This was shortly after she had gone into retirement from her supervisory position at a government department. She was accustomed to being busy, and suddenly, on retirement, found herself feeling lost.

She enjoyed her solo outings for months until she had an unpleasant encounter with a dog. She isn't fond of dogs, and fears large dogs. Jackie and Jillie know her as a neighbour they often see and they never bother her, knowing they won't get any pats out of that source. The encounter was unpleasant. The dog leaped at her, and it was a large dog. Likely it was also a young dog, they tend to be pretty expressive and anxious to play with anyone they come across. The owner laughed, rather than calling the dog away from her, after seeing her fright. Clearly a bit of an idiot.

 

After that, she was afraid of returning to the daily habit of zipping through the trails. I'm familiar with dogs, I have a good idea of how to judge them, but that doesn't mean I haven't had my own encounters that haven't been pleasant. I've been knocked down by dogs on occasion, though usually the people with them are apologetic. If a too-enthusiastic dog is left unsupervised it's what can happen. While we were talking together, down the hill came a short-legged British Lab, approaching each of us in turn, wagging its tail and wanting to be noticed. We know the dog, it's friendly and sweet-tempered. Rajinder kept backing away, the dog kept approaching her too close for comfort. Eventually its owner showed and called her dog off.

It's also a cultural thing. As well as personal feelings about animals, I suppose. Though her daughter, with three young children, living in Toronto adopted a little poodle-mix dog. And she seems to be fine with that.  Mind, her daughter's dog is well-behaved and the oldest of the grandchildren, a boy, has learned how to look after the dog, in everyone's best interests.

 

Yesterday, Canada Day, we saw vanishingly few people in the ravine. Today, Saturday, a different story. We set out as has become our normal for hot summer days, before breakfast. And at the beginning of our circuit we came across quite a few people we'd never seen before. There was a young couple walking a beautiful dog, and a young family with a small child. Our little group of four, Irving, me and Jackie and Jillie made a very unfavourable impression on those two groups. J&J indulged in their usual unmannerly conduct, barking and rushing toward anyone they don't know. Which led to the little boy being picked up protectively and pursed lips of condemnation all around.

After admonishing our two imps who had ignored my orders to stop barking and return to us, I cheerily bid these people good morning, apologizing for all the fuss, and they stone-facedly ignored me. I said to the woman holding her lovely dog back on leash that our two shrimps meant no harm they wouldn't bother her dog. She retorted that they were 'bothering ME', as she huffed off with her tail-wagging dog. Which led Irving to be rather impolite in response. Not a very good start to an anticipated energetic and pleasant ravine hike.

After that, it was uphill all the way, both physically and metaphorically, as we came across countless other people, mostly familiar faces and their dogs whom we were comfortable with, from whom our two little dogs' antics elicited smiles and offers of cookies, with the offerers instructing them to biddably 'sit' before the cookies were handed out.

In the ravine, it's a dog's world.

And they were amply represented in the ravine today, dogs of all sizes, breeds, colours and temperaments. Fine encounters, all. Jackie and Jillie bark 'Hi there!' to all the dogs they know. And the other dogs bark back 'Oh no, you two -- AGAIN!'. Well, it was a beautiful day, and the right time to come out to enjoy it before the onset of the day's heat. As it was, the sun was dazzling, making us grateful for the shade of the forest canopy, a relief from the challenge to our eyes, and appreciation for the lovely cool breeze and the shade for relief from the building heat.

 

I keep looking for white chocolate chips on the supermarket shelves. I have been reduced to hoarding those I still have left; using them judiciously in meagre amounts. I like to use them when I'm baking cheesecakes, as a bit of a taste-surprise between the crust and the cheesecake filling. I haven't seen them for sale in months. Irving looked for them on Tuesday when we did our shopping and came away with a package of sea-salt chocolate chips, wondering what they'd be like in cookies. So I'll have to bake some chocolate chip cookies with them. Meanwhile, I decided to bake brownies today. I use a recipe I once cut out of a newspaper aeons ago. The paper is now dark and crumbling-crisp with age. Out of curiosity I looked some recipes up on the internet and what I saw gagged me.

 

 

I can't stand recipes that incorporate cookie or cake mixes. Baking cookies and cakes is not difficult and it's not complicated to aspire to and succeed in baking a product that does justice to your effort. People allow themselves to be intimidated by simple processes. They beg off, citing time constraints, discomfort in combining ingredients, insecurities over success. Without making the effort they'll never learn and instead gravitate to industrialized baked goods. Best to control what you put into the end-stage food you eat.

 

 

Threat of rain showers and a humid morning heavily overcast kept us indoors until early afternoon. Once we had completed everything in the house that needed doing, though, Jackie and Jillie took us off for a saunter through the forest. We were fully prepared, because today is a holiday -- Canada Day -- to discover a lot of people moving about on the forest trails. As things turned out, nada. Us and only us but for the random appearance of scant few others out enjoying a fine day with occasional sun and a cooling breeze.

 

Several of our neighbours have put flags out the front of their houses or pasted facsimiles on their windows facing the street. Most people don't bother. Many people have plans to get out to the various community venues celebrating July1 with a presentation of entertainment and fireworks. It occurred to us when we thought about it that it's the introverted people we know in the neighbourhood who tend to fly flags on their property. 

 

The frequent rain events we've had for the past few months has hastened the growth of all kind of vegetation, both in the forest and at home in the garden. Now, on the periphery of the forest, great swaths of thimbleberry shrubs and elderberry trees flank the forest entry. The pink flowers of the thimbleberries vibrant and promising, the compound flowers of the elderberries speaking of a good harvest of a fruit that was once popular in settlement times for elderberry wine-making.

 

And then, back home again, to meander about the garden to see what's new. Jackie and Jillie tend to wander about on their own, to look for opportunities to chase squirrels and rabbits who have the nerve to access their property which we happen to lease from our little dogs. The squirrels exercise their predisposition to mischief by hauling small flowering plants out of the garden beds. Invariably, on a return from our round of the ravine, there will be revealed one or several little plants crying out to be replanted.