Another perfectly lovely winter day. Light snow falling, under a heavily overcast sky. So heavily overcast  it seemed more like night than morning when we came down for breakfast. The temperature has risen from last night's -11C to a more balmy -1C, with nary a whisper of wind. Because we had some leftover rice I decided to make rice pudding for breakfast, and it was a really nice change. Otherwise, we'd have had another favourite, oatmeal. We prefer large-flake oats that cook for at least fifteen minutes, but end up simmering on the stove longer than that.

When we come down to let Jackie and Jillie out to the backyard first thing, I plop the rice into a little saucepan, cover it with milk, and let it simmer to absorb the milk while we go back upstairs to shower. By the time we come back down again for breakfast it's ready for me to add brown sugar, cinnamon and raisins and it continues to simmer. Served with milk at the table, it's delicious.

After breakfast on Mondays we're busy. We both clean this house, Irving doing the vacuuming while I do the dusting, dry-mopping, and finally floor washing. Although there are lots of floors to wash, it's the dusting of furniture and everything that sits on it that is really time-consuming. A reflection of a lifetime of collecting things.

And when we're finally finished the afternoon has fled. It was after four by the time we were ready to leave the house with Jackie and Jillie for our afternoon hike through the forest trails. Before we left I prepared a Cornish game hen for the oven, planning to  bake an egg-noodle-raisin pudding to go with it, alongside sweet-and-sour beets. I had parboiled the beets to be able to slip the skins off, but they weren't interested in cooperating and I had to peel them instead.

It's always invigorating to be out in the ravine, the air fresh and cool. Well, yesterday was beyond cool; it was icy, freezing our faces, but today at a kinder temperature, it was lovely. And incredibly picturesque. Now that the unseasonably mild weather has left, the landscape more resembles what it should, with snow covering everything. We haven't had a real snowstorm since, but the small amounts of snow that do trickle down is beginning to compensate.

Like yesterday, we were out too late to be comfortable with letting Jackie and Jillie run about off leash since dusk was boldly creeping forward and we prefer to keep them close by where we can see them and reach for them if need be. They're complacent about being on leash, so it all works out fine. Other people can be less concerned over the security of their dogs, since they're mostly middling- to large-size breeds; ours are too small for comfort should danger threaten.

It didn't, and we all enjoyed ourselves. When we encounter other, familiar dogs, it's like a little reunion; they're always glad to see Irving and his cookie pouch, and Jackie and Jillie are always amenable to snapping up a few extra cookie tidbits when they're being handed out.

 

Busy  day today. Too much to get through to allow us to get out for our afternoon hike in time to take advantage of ambient daylight  hours. So we were a bit late. I had the kitchen and bathrooms to deep-clean, and bedding and towel laundering to do along with other linens. 

 

All right, I'll come clean with full disclosure. We slept in. Quite late. And then took our time actually getting out of bed. Just too comfortable. And Jackie and Jillie totally agreed. It's comfortable listening to good music in bed on a dark, snowy morning. And mumbling conversations. And what's the hurry, after all? None.

 

 

And then breakfast, of course, we've got to linger long over breakfast For at least as long as it takes to prepare it. And though I'm pretty efficient at assembling everything, it takes time, too. Of course, Jackie and Jillie have to enjoy their own breakfast before we have ours. As well as helping us to dispose of our breakfast. This morning comprised of bananas, half-melons, French toast, tea, coffee; they get their share of the melon and the French toast.

 

By the time I was finished with everything I wanted to turn my attention to putting on a soup for dinner in advance of leaving the house. Because this soup contained a variety of pulses and they need time to 

cook before the vegetables are added. So, finally all of that disposed of, off we went in the waning light of late afternoon expecting it to be cold, and it was.

 

 

The temperature was steadily dropping and by the time we got out it registered -10C, so we moved right along. That movement impelled by the fact that we kept the puppies on leash. When darkness begins to fall we're aware of the possible unseen presence of coyotes, although no one has yet reported seeing or hearing them this winter.  

 

Not a problem with larger dogs, but our two are fairly small. Compounded immeasurably by the fact that when they see another animal their tendency is to bark and run after the other animal. Size is immaterial to them; everything is fair game. And they might end up 'fair game' for a predator, so just to play it safe, darkness equals awareness.

We had a good hike through the trails which are in really fine shape. And on our return I had other things to do, rolling out bread dough for dinner rolls to accompany the soup for one. Finishing up the soup ingredients for another. Folding the now-dried laundry and disposing of it. There, done!

 

 

 

It can be mesmerizing quietly watching light snow spiral lazily through the air, light as gossamer, minuscule stars of frozen water. Light snow fell today, is still falling, under snowclouds covering the ceiling of the sky and casting a slight opacity of pearl grey over the atmosphere. A light covering of new snow is blanketing the landscape, renewing the picture-perfect snowy-winter perspective that milder weather and rain so recently disturbed. 

 

 

Under the new,thin layer of snow, tiny globules of ice are still evident, clinging to branches, the weak ambient light casting a luminescent glow through them. There is a stillness that permeates the landscape; snow blanketing everything muting sound and an air of serenity prevails. Off in the near distance, a woodpecker busily thrums. We hear it as we enter the ravine for our daily afternoon ramble with Jackie and Jillie, and he's still there when we return on our way out, circuit completed, an hour later.

 

Today's weather is more typical of an ordinary January day in the climate of the Ottawa Valley's winter season. It's -6C at the height of the day, snow is gently falling, the air feels icy on our faces, but the forest trails underfoot are firm and easily trod. The snow is just a light covering over the ice that formed previously, and our boots with their strapped-on cleats crunch sharply.

 

Before we've negotiated the first bridge, there comes Eva, leaving her human far behind in her haste to ensure she doesn't miss us. She heads straight for us, over the bridge, to meet us at the opposite end where we're just on the cusp of boarding the bridge. So we stop awhile and Irving hauls out his cookie cache and distributes them, careful to offer Eva's on a flat hand, because she has a tendency to a rough bite. We never know whether we'll be coming across a meagre few of our canine friends or a lot of them on any given day, so usually two large cookies for large dogs is the maximum, sometimes three to ensure there's enough to go around.

 

Eva's had her limit, and she turns about to return from the direction she had come from, to join her patient friend who from a distance waves to us, up above on the ridge we'll soon be heading toward ourselves. As things turn out, we won't be coming across any others of our familiar circle of dogs looking out for Mr. Cookie Man.

We do come across other dogs much later in our ramble, they're located deep below a hill we begin descending as we reach near the end of our circuit for the day. And Jillie, as is her irritating way, has run down the hill, barking furiously at the dogs. There are three of them, one a bit large, the others just medium sized. We call her to return to us and she ignores us. And then suddenly she turns and runs back toward us along an intersecting trail and two of the dogs are after her. 

 

She reaches the trail we're on, halfway up its length, and the two dogs pounce on her and she yelps. Irving picks up speed and rushes down to disperse the dogs. Jillie is fine, her good heavy winter coat has kept her from any physical harm, and it's not likely the dogs meant to do her harm. She had irritated them with her nagging barks and they responded to her harassment. She's so stubbornly stupid about this that though she had been frightened, she hadn't been chastened enough not to continue barking after the receding dogs.

 

Last time we did our weekly grocery shopping I thought I'd try a different type of fish for a change. We tend to have mostly haddock or salmon. This time I bought a fish I'd never heard of before, redfish, frozen, from Portugal. They're fairly small, whole fish. And last night we tried them out; one a bit larger for Irving and a smaller one for me. I baked potato chips alongside the fish in the oven and we had a fresh vegetable salad to accompany the meal.

 

 

I'd squeezed lemon over the fish along with a mixture of herbs and olive oil before baking it. Irving liked the fish, favouring it over salmon. My impression was the reverse. I think next time around, though Irving thought the fish had a good taste, we'll get small whole mackerel fish. When we lived in Tokyo fish was available fresh in abundance and we often had mackerel; I'd use soy sauce liberally on them alongside seasoning.

 

 

Before going up to bed last night snow was falling, lightly. We thought that finally we might begin to recoup what we had lost in the snowpack as a result of these milder temperatures and precipitation falling as rain, not snow, unusual for this time of year. By the time we woke this morning, snow was still falling, but the total accumulation couldn't have been more than a skimpy four cm.

 

 

Since the weather forecast warned of the temperature rising again and rain to follow, we thought we'd better get out before the rain started. We had a good, leisurely breakfast of melon and banana, oatmeal and tea and coffee, and after the kitchen was cleaned up we set off for the ravine with a willing Jackie and Jillie. It was relatively mild, no wind to speak of and the footing was much improved now that snow covered the ice on the trails.

 

 

Climbing up the hill with the steepest gradient that I had slipped and fallen on two days before, was a breeze today. Conditions were such that the landscape was cleaner, brighter, beautiful again, along with a vastly improved footing with the ice well covered with snow that crunched underfoot. That early in the day we had the ravine as it were, to ourselves. No one else seemed to be out on the trails, we made the most of it, admiring the renewed winter scene.

 

At one point we saw a Pileated woodpecker rise from low down on a tree trunk when Jackie and Jillie approached, then it flew above, and we watched for a while as it appeared to assess its prospects. We haven't seen a Pileated for months. They're the king of the woodpeckers that we come across in the forest. There are no avian challengers to their primacy. Owls, by contrast, because they're predators, are continually harassed by crows and even cardinals.

 

When we returned home I turned my attention to baking. Prepared a bread dough for later in the week. And then baked light and airy coconut cupcakes. Topped with raspberry jam and coconut, they make a good-tasting dessert for a Friday. Then I put on a chicken soup to simmer for a few hours, infusing the house with the fragrance of freshly baked cupcakes, to be followed by the mellow promise of chicken soup; a typical Friday in this household.

We haven't watched a film in ages. Before the onset of the pandemic we would make a weekly selection from the public library branch located nearest us and sit back on a Saturday night to be entertained by the occasional good film, and bored by the more frequent bad ones. When Irving and Jordan went to the library yesterday there was little to choose from, but then a little gem presented itself and was brought home with them.

 

Our DVD player had given up the ghost and we hadn't done anything about it. Last night, Jordan and Irving exchanged the kaput one for a blue-ray video player and after it was set up, we spent the next few hours tensely viewing The Last Vermeer, a period piece taking place in post-war Holland, where a Dutch Jew who had spent the war years with the underground resistance was charged by the military with investigating Dutch Nazi collaborators.

 

Any Dutch who were found guilty of collaboration with Nazi Germany were summarily subject to a shooting squad, shot to death for their war crimes, with an audience of angry citizens looking on; rough justice. Art connoisseur Han van Meegeren was known as one of the most expert forgers of old masterpieces of his era, and it was this man who next came to the attention of the investigator, Joseph Piller. The film is tense, well-acted, its historical aura and filmography of time and place mesmerizing. The film impressed us; that it also portrayed a real historical event, all the more so.. 

In the end, van Meegeren was so successful in masterfully explaining away all indications that would lead to his guilt of collaboration, that the investigator believed him to be innocent, and successfully fought against the state prosecutor who presented incriminating evidence. The slippery, flamboyant van Meegeren's life was preserved, and then came the denouement, when Investigator Piller was given clear evidence of the man's guilt as a despicable collaborator.

Today, our son Jordan's visit with us came to an end. When we checked the flight schedule out of Ottawa to Vancouver, there was no delay in his flight. The storm that we had concentrated on as a threatening impediment to his getting safely away and back home never did quite eventuate. Flights out of Ottawa weren't delayed and were right on schedule.

 

It's always a glum drive at departure time back to the airport, but Jordan kept up a steady stream of bright conversation. Jackie and Jillie sat with me, in the back seat and they were clearly disconcerted and most uncomfortable. They're accustomed to sitting up front with us on any vehicle trips, spoiled little brats.

The major roads were clear of ice, unlike side streets, so traffic moved at a steady pace. We did see an unusual number of ambulances and first-responder vehicles on the road and that made me a trifle uneasy. The day was completely overcast; light morning flurries but nothing to cover the layer of ice over everything. A heavy ice fog drew a dark curtain over the landscape, fine water vapour permeated the atmosphere.

 

There's scrub forest on either side of the highway approaching the airport. The forest looks absolutely shocking. Its condition is testament to the power of the micro tornadoes that burst through this area back at the end of May 2022, called a derecho. Trees knocked down everywhere. All area trees are covered with a crisp luminous layer of ice from last night's rain and following quick-freeze.

We judged it best, on our return home, not to venture this day out to the ravine; too icy underfoot, and the fog more resembled night than it did dusk. Besides which, we just didn't feel like venturing out as usual. The house seems really quiet and a little empty now.

We enjoyed a very successful collaboration on a pizza with a different attitude, last night. Jordan made one for himself, while I made one for Irving and me to share. Mostly the difference was in the crust. Jordan made his of oatmeal flour, salt, water and coconut oil, while I made a yeast dough for ours with unbleached flour, yeast, salt, sugar, water and olive oil. Basically the toppings were similar; chopped garlic, pearl onion, shallot, green onion, fresh dill, tomato paste, chopped tomato, sour cream, anchovies and goat cheese. Jordan added some grated Provolone to his. We all enjoyed them, they were certainly different than what we're accustomed to.

 

 

There's a storm on its way. Overnight, for the most part. Sleet, snow, freezing rain, high winds. Air Canada emailed our son a day ago inviting him, if he wished to do so, to reschedule his flight for another day. He's due to leave tomorrow afternoon. He's decided to wait it out; if Air Canada cancels his flight, then he'll reschedule to another, but he doesn't feel the flight will be cancelled. It's a direct flight to Vancouver and he thinks there'll be no trouble taking off from Ottawa.

Environment Canada this morning advised that central Ottawa will not be affected by icy conditions, although the surrounding areas will be. We both tried to convince Jordan to reschedule for a Saturday flight, but he's stubborn and feels there's no reason to delay his flight back. Unless the air carrier decides to, and then it's a different story.

He and Irving have gone off to the library. Jordan to pick a film for us to enjoy tonight, and Irving to pick about the discarded library books, or from the books that people have donated to the library for sale by 'friends of the library'. Recycled books gladden his heart, though he steadfastly refuses himself to recycle any of our books and our home library is close to bursting.

 

It's another mild day, just hovering around freezing, but yet mild enough that rain is in the forecast. We set out for an afternoon  hike through the ravine and the rain hadn't yet started. Irving never leaves the house for the ravine without first stocking up on his cookie pack the dogs we come across find such edible treasures. And today was one of those days when a lot of people were out with their dogs, trying to get ahead of the storm.

 

One dog, an excitable fella, was so energized by the prospect of cookies he pranced and danced around us, leaping for joy while we were trying to get ourselves up one of the hills. I was so busy laughing at his antics while trying to maintain balance and stability and take photos at the same time that I succumbed to a momentary lapse in footing and fell. Which gave him the opportunity to kiss me right mid-face while I was laughing.

 

There was light fog above the creek, itself bursting its banks with snowmelt and rainwater. We were almost through our circuit when Jordan noticed it had begun to rain. No inconvenience really at that point, since it was light rain and we weren't far from the ravine exit at that point, and felt the pleasure of having enjoyed a lovely hour of floundering through the forest trails.

I've had a lot of company in the kitchen this week. Our youngest son takes quite an interest in matters culinary as he does with all kinds of endeavours. He has introduced me to some new ingredients and with them, somewhat exotic tastes. He's a fan of East Indian cooking. And his kitchen enterprise has inspired his father, as well. Irving decided he would return to baking bread again on occasion. So he hauled out his old breadmaking machine and busied himself making a whole-wheat bread and added lots of sunflower seeds. 

 

 

That divine fragrance soon flooded the house, overwhelming in fact, the mouth-watering smells of Jordan's baked treats that kept us busy eating after we had our dinner of a fresh vegetable salad, baked salmon and oven-baked potato chips. Jordan made one of his oatmeal crusts, slathered it with sour cream, added well-chopped onion, shallots and green onion, topped it with shredded fresh dill, and finally sprinkled globs of goat cheese over. It came out beautifully crisp and pungently delicious. We plan to try the ingredients on a pizza for tonight.

 

 

Jordan and I top off each evening before bed with a rollicking game of Pictionary. He's a far better cartoonist than I could ever hope to be. But you get caught up in the game, and do your best to depict a word or a phrase or an action, or a place with a drawing sufficiently accurate, albeit notional, to spur your adversary's imagination to identify what it must be. I laugh harder playing that game than anything else I can recall.

 

 

We did the grocery shopping as usual this morning. And even though Jordan was at home with Jackie and Jillie they still went into paroxysms of grief at our departure from the house. Compensating at the other end, when we arrived back home, with chest-high leaps and pirouettes informing us how glad they were that we decided to return at all. The donations for the Food Bank at the grocery store were brimming, hard to find place where to deposit additional items. A reflection of hard times for all too many people.

 

The early morning fog that has greeted us most of the week was no longer in evidence t his morning. It still felt damp, around 0C, but the big change was that it wasn't raining. We went off for our daily spin through the forest trails in mid-afternoon, three adults and two little dogs. Jordan hauls a backpack along, filled with books from our library, and it weighs a ton. He burns more energy that way, to keep warm. He's accustomed to striding along at more robust pace than we can manage, particularly on the uphills.

 

Our pace is much slower naturally than his. There's about 26 years between us in age, but at age 86 we are now a lot slower getting through the trails than we once were. Walking at our pace means the ambient cold penetrates his layers of winter gear. Our pace takes relatively little effort for him, and hauling along a 50-lb backpack generates more of an energy-expenditure to keep him warm.

 

Whatever snow now remains after the higher temperatures we've had accompanied by heavy rain, is now freezing back up again. In the last few days we were paddling through puddles of snowmelt. It is now frozen again, and will freeze even more tonight when the temperature drops to -4C, and finally snow is forecasted for tomorrow.

We didn't see too many other people out today. Yesterday brought out far more people and their dogs. We had also seen a young woman struggling up one of the hills as we descended, pulling along behind her  an oversized stroller with a baby fast asleep inside. The stroller was actually on gliders and they would have worked just fine if the snow hadn't been so inundated with rainwater to turn it to heavy slush. But she was cheerful and she managed and her canine companion was overjoyed to be out in the ravine.