When all the squirrels and birds had departed for the day, and darkness fell along came Fati Rascoon, the only one of his kind to show up yet this spring. He makes himself comfortable, remains ensconced in a tranquil posture, barely bothering to occasionally glance about to detect the presence of any threats while he avails himself of the offerings on the porch. He sees us, but pays no mind. Irving usually refreshes the offerings once the squirrels have abandoned their porch roost. The little fellow focused his attention equally on the crackers and the peanuts, totally disinterested in the carrots set outside for the rabbits.

We had bought a package of tortillas last grocery shopping at Jody's suggestion, so last evening he and I set about putting together our version of burritos. Because he avoids gluten products, he made his own tortillas out of ground-up flax seeds. Flax seeds have many uses in a kitchen and on a dining table, and they grind nicely in an old coffee grinder. His burritos had a crunchy, nutty texture and flavour.

Each tortilla was spread first with tomato paste. Then a fat row of black beans was arranged down each tortilla. Grated old marble cheddar followed, sprinkled with sliced green onions, yellow bell pepper and cocktail tomatoes. More cheese, and the tortillas were folded, toothpicked and went into the oven. They made a satisfying meal, with spinach on the side.

This third day of spring 2022 could be a little warmer, with a high temperature of 2.3C and an icy wind under mostly cloudy skies. But we take what we get now and always in the weather, since longing for better cuts no ice with nature. We set off for a late morning walk today for the simple reason that it fit into today's schedule. Which is a late afternoon departure for Jody, returning to Vancouver and his life there.

That is the part of the 'visit' with our youngest child that I will never adjust to. But he's lived there for about thirty years and it has become his home. So it has been a quiet day, the imminence of his departure hanging over us. Us, not him necessarily. He's a cheerful pragmatist. The kind of person who believes in good over all else, with a strict sense of what a decent code of moral conduct represents. An optimist of the first order and we do admire him aside from our love for him.

So, off we went to the ravine, dressed for the cold. On our way, Jody pointed out a robin in our weeping jade crabapple tree. Which last summer bore an overwhelmingly bounteous crop of tiny apples. Which the robin was pecking at. Not much live feed for them at this time of year. But now they've moved up from the ravine and the creek and gone elsewhere.

We had dropped below freezing last night, so the trails that were hovering between ice and slush were most definitely ice today. Still we could get fairly good footholds in the nature of the loose-packed ice on the trails, and Jody is such an inveterate outdoorsman with a sure sense of balance and care where  his boots go, we managed to negotiate the trails with no problem. He refuses to wear cleats and we, of course, never go without them in the winter.

 

There was no one else around, absolutely no one. So Jackie and Jillie were able to temporarily shed their sense of responsibility as stewards of the vast ravine and its forest, and just relax; no other dogs to bark at. Refreshing for us, perhaps a tad boring for them. The creek at the bottom of the ravine is much reduced in volume; no longer blasting its way through the forest. Now assuming a more placid decorum, although still noisy. Once milder weather returns and the snowmelt continues, it will revert again to a wild, dark river of meltwater and Leda clay.

 

Dinner is a success when everyone appreciates the marriage of  ingredients and the melding of flavours to produce a fragrant and good tasting meal. Meals are appreciated to different degrees, and last night's met the expectations of both cook and diners. I had grated a large garlic clove and a medium-sized onion into the lean ground beef I used to prepare meatballs. Instead of breadcrumbs I used steel-cut oats, an egg and a complement of herbs and spices.

We had quite a bit of red bell peppers from our last shopping trip, so I thought a gravy featuring small cuts of red pepper would do very well as a flavouring and texture agent, as well as a gravy-booster. Chopped onion and garlic, as well as jalapeno pepper was sauteed in olive oil, then sprinkled with mixed herbs and when that was flavourful, a few tablespoons of flour and a beef bouillon cube was added, the oiled vegetables absorbing the flour. Once the boiling water was added and stirred to thicken, in went the red pepper and the meatballs.

The concoction was stirred a few times in its large covered pan, and halfway through the cooking period,the meatballs turned over into the gravy for another fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, kokuho rose rice was cooking, and so was a steamed pot of Brussels sprouts. I had earlier baked a few apples stuffed with cinnamon, brown sugar and raisins which made for dessert. The two men at the table dug in and made me happy.

Tonight dinner will once again be a two-chef meal, since Jordan suggested we have stuffed tortillas. Black beans, vegetables, cheese will make up the filling. So he'll be directing the kitchen and I'll be there as staff, to help with ingredient preparations. He enjoys cooking and usually when he's around one or two of our meals owe their appearance to his recommendations and efforts in preparation.

We left early this morning to do our grocery shopping. Despite that Jordan was in the house with them, Jackie and Jillie set up their usual sorrowful begging routine; PLEASE, don't leave us! The howling and yowling commenced the minute we put on our coats, and we could hear their pitiful pleas from the garage. Joy and jubulation on our return!

At the supermarket we didn't know what we'd encounter, but we soon discovered that like us, the store personnel and most of the shoppers had decided to continue wearing masks, despite that Monday marked the first official day of the provincial relaxation on mask-wearing in most indoor venues. There weren't many shoppers and that could be attributable to more people feeling relaxed enough about   lower transmission rates not to bother shopping early. And it could be among that contingent there will be fewer mask-wearers.

It would be difficult to even guess whether the CPR rail strike has yet impacted product deliveries. We saw some empty shelves, but nothing spectacular. Oddly, it's been bread and cereals that have been in short supply. Fresh fruits and vegetables continue to be in ample supply. And today for the first time ever that I can recall, you could get any type of laundry detergent you wanted ... as long as it bore the Tide logo.

Weatherwise, the day was typically early spring, a beautiful day stretched ahead of us. By afternoon the nippy morning air had relented to give us a temperature of 4.5C, and the cold wind had receded somewhat. The sky was a wide and deep cerulean blue, the sun intense and brilliant. Circumstances that have teamed up to usher out the winter snowpack. In the backyard, more and more of the garden is being revealed, although there's not yet anything to look at other than the freed, still frozen soil.

The hillsides of the ravine reveal a patchwork of snow and dark forest floor. The creek is a raging turbulence of clay-infused meltwater, its ferocity scraping up Leda clay from the streambed. The sun is so bright, even observing it at an angle results in a momentary imprint on the lens of one's eyes. Underfoot, the trails are a mix of melting ice and deep slush, with the occasional brief interspersal of bare forest floor, slick and greasy.

 

Jackie and Jillie stop hopefully in remembered areas of the trails where on previous occasions Irving has happened to dole out cookies. They're given an initial tiny cookie for encouragement, and once we run across other dogs that hasten to approach, from long distances off, the serious doling out of goodies begins.

 

Sunday is soup day in this household, and usually it's a blend of dried beans (soaked overnight and ready for cooking the following day) and vegetables. Yesterday's turned out a little different, though. At Jordan's suggestion. He often thinks up meal variations and sometimes when he eats out he has something that sparks his curiosity because there's an exotic touch to it. So what we ended up having was a cream of broccoli soup; different in that it also included smoked salmon. The dish he'd had in Vancouver saw the chef add hot smoked salmon in small chunks to the soup. I had lux, that kind of cold smoked salmon so we decided that would do.

 

I started out by sauteing chopped garlic, onion and jalapeno pepper, together with sliced leeks. When they were soft I added a few herbs, and chopped celery, the chopped broccoli, a chicken bouillon cube and boiling water. It simmered until the vegetables were soft, then out came my trusty immersion blender. About five minutes before we were ready to eat, in went the salmon cut into short strips, and once all cooked, the soup was ladled over thick sour cream. We had focaccia bread (whole-wheat-cumin-cheddar) to mop it up with. Very satisfying.

 

 

Yesterday was, after all, quite a cool day despite that it was also the first day of spring. The temperature struggled up to 2.3C, and refused to climb any higher. Overcast skies gave us light rain, though nowhere near as much as the day before. But today ... today dawned bright and sunny. There was a populist crowd of squirrels on the porch when we came down, vying for peanuts. More than we've ever seen at any one time; black, grey and red. About a dozen at a time, harassing one another, grabbing peanuts, settling into the trees, returning to the porch. A few were busy burying them in the garden.

 

In the afternoon Jackie and Jillie got us all lined up to gear up for the ravine. Sunny it may be, but there was a strong, chill wind. In place of yesterday's rain jackets J&J wore their woolly sweaters and we concentrated on jackets to break the wind and keep us warm. The high for the day was 5C, moderately improved on yesterday's temperature, which affected the snowpack so that the trails weren't quite so icy today.

 

The snow has become completely denaturized; melting, clumping, granulating. The stream, as swollen as it has been for the past three days, has been overwhelmed by the volumes of melting snow running downhill to reach the creek's energetic turbulence. The wind howled through the upper story of the forest canopy, the tree masts swaying back and forth. Occasionally two masts will meet in their dance and the clunks as they do carry down impressively to the understory.

 

For a beautiful afternoon marking the second day of spring, with full sun and a wide blue sky the trails were fairly vacant of hikers. On the upper reaches of the forest, above the ravine, we did come across a number of other hikers with their dogs. And those dogs familiar with the heralding-arrival sound of two little inveterate barkers, follow their sound and scent to confront Irving, the cookie man.

It's surprising, even to us, how many people over the course of the years that we've become acquainted with, along with their dogs. Young women who would come out to hike or run through the woods with their dogs whom we'd see pregnant with expectation, now walking alongside their first babies preparing to enter elementary school, while pushing along a stroller built for rough terrain. If they're little girls, the toddlers always have a lot to say in their possessiveness of a younger sibling...

 

Yesterday may have been a literal washout for our usual hike through the ravine, given the cool 2.5C and steady rain and wind that marked the day, but the day wasn't a write-off. Among other things, we all opted for pizza. And all of us worked in the kitchen together seamlessly to produce the pizzas. Two; one that Irving and I would share, and one that Jordan put his own preferred toppings on, though for the most part we all shared a choice of toppings. His had olives, apart from the anchovies, and ours no olives, but some pepperoni.

 

 

Later in the evening while Irving watched his favourite pot boilers on his computer, Jody and I played Pictionary. He happens to have skills that were denied me at birth. Inheriting his father's casual capability to draw with ease and precision. My drawings are pathetically nominal. Yet, despite that, he is usually able to negotiate the hints my sad little drawings are meant to convey to quickly come up with correct answers.

 

Where I somehow gained the advantage was my random dice tosses. For some inexplicable reason (twist of the wrist?) I rolled higher numbers consistently than he did, and managed to gain the ascendancy on the board with my piece's steady advance. Each game takes roughly an hour to complete. What's so much fun about playing this particular board game is the fancy-tickling it produces and the laughs galore.

 

 

Today brought us another day of gloomy overcast. But there's nothing gloomy about the calendar position of the day; we hit the Vernal Equinox and rain and wind aside, it's officially spring! A matter of fact that did indeed put a spring in our steps ... one of anticipation. When the rain paused, out we went to the ravine, all of us in rain gear. The weather offered us trail conditions that ranged from icy to deep plunges into the melting snowpack.

 

Expending plenty of energy in the process of moving from one point to another. And so, it was little wonder that we had those trails to ourselves. Very few other people had ventured out on this first day of spring, more intent on avoiding the ice and the slogging mess than celebrating spring with the effort it took to avoid slipping and falling into a morass of snowmelt.

 

 

Snow has been steadily melting, running off the hillsides into the creek below. There are actually some areas now where snow is gone in a patchwork of dark soil finally poking through winter's snow blanket. When we returned from our delightful slog through the forest, the sun had shoved aside the dark clouds long enough to brighten the house interior, just to assure us that yes, it really is prepared to welcome spring's arrival in style. Tomorrow. 

On its way, but dawdling. We had, as of yesterday, about four feet of snow left on our front lawn, less in the backyard. Yesterday was another glorious day of  beneficent warmth with the temperature reaching all the way up to 9C, just a mite less warm than the day before when it rose to a heavenly 11C. The sun was out and it warmed the atmosphere immeasurably. And while it was busy doing that it also warmed the house with its rays beaming through our house windows.

 

Jackie and Jillie reacted to the balmy air and the sun by constantly asking to go out to lay about on the deck, warmed by the sun entering slantwise under the canopy. They didn't stay out long each time but it was clear they were enjoying a new kind of freedom. The tension of cold air and wind fast dissipating. Now, when we take them out to the ravine, it's without the hassle of boots to protect their tiny paws from snow and ice.

The snow and ice are still there, but the puppies can withstand the cold to a certain degree. And now we're well beyond that certain degree, and they're comfortable. They no longer need their winter jackets, and exchanged them for sweaters, and lighter halters. Other than, with the snow shrinking and melting, even at their slight weight, they're beginning to sink into the loft of the snow, and that's a feeling they're not particularly fond of. Convincing them to stay closer to the trails.

Before we went out yesterday, though, I decided to bake oatmeal squares. That's a little different. The finished product is nothing like cupcakes or muffins, or cake. It's far more compressed, there's no light moist and airy texture, because oat flour lacks the gluten that wheat flour has in abundance. And gluten responds to rising agents like baking powder, baking soda and yeast. Whereas oat flour, absent much in the way of gluten, doesn't.

I used it because I wanted to share dessert with our son who avoids consuming gluten. This recipe used equal parts rolled oats and oat flour. For 1-1/4 cups of each there was a half-cup butter, half-cup granulated sugar, tsp and a half of baking powder (because I detest baking soda), a tsp. of vanilla, two large eggs, and a half-cup each of dried cranberries, min-chocolate chips and chopped pecans. The squares have a stiff, crumbly texture. And we all enjoyed them.

Today's a rainy day. Still mild relatively speaking, but no 11C; the high was no more than 4C, with wind, and very damp of course. So, rain and cool temperature represents an anti-hike formula for us. But yesterday's hike was extra-long, taking is a full two hours to ramble through the forest trails. The same impulse awareness of warmth and sun brought out quite a few people from the broader community, fully appreciating the opportunity to make use of our invaluable community resource.

Snow is melting on the hills, and the creek at the ravine bottom is wider, darker and more churned up than ever. We heard nuthatches and chickadees flitting through the forest trees, and crows calling and hiking high above the canopy on prevailing winds. Spring is approaching. But as it is with making progress through the melting trails leading to one step forward, another backward as we slide backward downhill in our ascents, so it is with spring's eventual arrival.

 

Last night there was a visitor we haven't seen in a while. One little raccoon came around to the porch and sat nibbling peanuts for quite a while. The night before a cat was around, waiting on the porch we imagine, to see who might be arriving. And that 'who might' would be our neighbourly rabbit. Certainly the cat isn't interested in carrots and peanuts. It was shooed off the porch and sometime during the nocturnal hours the rabbit came by to claim his carrots.

 

 

Now Irving is concerned that with the raccoons stirring out of winter hibernation the safety of the little rabbit may be doubly jeopardized, drawn to the porch to retrieve carrots, while the raccoons will be returning for peanuts. We'll just have to stop putting out food for them and now is the right time with spring on the cusp of arriving. So as soon as the snow melts in a few weeks' time, that will be it for feeding wildlife until winter returns once again.

 

There was actually a small article in today's paper about an angry squirrel in a nearby community that has been going about in a grumpy fashion, latching himself to people and actually biting them. The speculation is that the squirrel has become accustomed to being fed by people and after approaching and not being given anything to eat, his response is a punishing nip. Experts appear to have ruled out rabies.

 

In the better weather, in any event, Jackie and Jillie will be out and about more, and they're curious about all the wildlife appearing on the porch. Obviously enough wildlife carry germs and parasites some of which could be pathogenic, and we'd prefer not to have our pups exposed to any such threats. So we'll clear off the porch and the wildlife will adjust to seeking out their normal forage, now that it is available to them.

 

Last week we were shivering under sharp winds making the ambient temperatures below freezing even colder. This week's forecast is for far milder temperatures. Yesterday we had a glorious, sunny 5C day, and we can see the snow reducing in the backyard. Snow goes quicker there than it does at the front of the house. And of course in the ravine the snowpack is dense and in shade mostly thanks to the forest canopy. We can see that even so, the snow and ice is fast melting, given the spread and rush of the meltwater swelling the creek.

 

I thought I'd bake a bread today, and because Irving likes certain types of bread, I was intrigued by a recipe I saw on line. I neglected to write down any of the recipe or methodology, even the name of the bread that results, bit I decided today I'd bake it anyway. All I really need for instructions is a casual recall of ingredients, and method is fairly standard.

 

So this is a white bread using unbleached all-purpose flour, made with milk, eggs and butter. All ingredients that Irving is devoted to. I've made egg breads before, challahs, but this dough was different; more egg and the addition of butter. So it handled quite differently. Kneading the dough it was extremely silky and elastic, just an altogether different feel. After it rose, it also felt different. But the proof will be in the tasting, as that old adage goes...

 

We knew it was balmy before we set out to the ravine this afternoon. Since it was so warm, there was no need to have Jackie and Jillie wear their boots, any longer. Lighter sweaters would do, as well. And the same for us, though we needed boots. They may have felt liberated, with a real spring in their steps, but our steps were labouring. It was gloriously mild at 11C with full sun.

The snowpack reacting to the temperature and the sun is dissolving, the snow and ice melting, so that each step we took meant we sank deep in the snow that was once so firm. A forward step and a slosh backward requiring a bit of a push for the next step ... and on and on. Pretty exhausting. All the more when ascending and descending the hills. No problem for Jackie and Jillie, their traction is guaranteed with four limbs to our two.

 

We could hardly believe how warm it was, even wearing lighter gear. At certain points on the trails you walk into sudden freezing spots, or alternately warmer areas; little brief micro-climates. Unlike yesterday we began to see others out enjoying the sudden spring weather. Unsurprisingly, everyone sported wide smiles and a breezy attitude full of spring expectation.

It's been several years, since the lockdowns and isolations began, that we've been at the airport. We're now 'living with COVID. People are  travelling once again. The parking facilities were crammed with cars. Once in the airport terminal it was striking how different it looks now. Drab, colourless, like a miserable, tired old warehouse. The visual appearance so changed. Nothing welcoming about it.

Gone the wall 'waterfalls', gone the sculptures, including the life-size+ sculpture of McDonald-Cartier seated in a bench, another victim of 'cancel-culture', a cancer on our public consciousness. There was some colour, however, as it happened. Courtesy of a welcome-back committee waiting for the arrival of a Vancouver-to-Ottawa flight returning from the Beijing Handicapped Olympics.

There was a sizeable group in the otherwise-yawningly empty atrium that included young families with their children. There were red and white balloons. And they were rehearsing their welcome-back champions! calls and huzzahs. The flight was late in arriving, but when it eventually did, each time a wheel-chair-bound or otherwise unidentified but recognizable face made its way down the escalator, great lusty shouts of approval, appreciation and cheeriness rent the air by the dedicated delegation.

 

I'd forgotten it was Spring Break, traditionally the busiest travel time for people with children, once school discharges for that interim week between the last of winter and the arrival of spring. And just two days before we had turned the clocks forward an hour, grudgingly welcoming the return of standard time. Which accounted for the number of people arriving with children in tow, to visit with family and friends in Ottawa.

 

 

Yesterday's hike through the ravine was the start of a week forecasted to be far more moderately temperatured than we've become accustomed to, and it was beyond pleasant at a high of 2C, light wind and occasional sun. It suddenly occurred to Irving to look closely at some hazelnnut shrubs in the forest understudy that were were passing at the side of the main trial.

 

Huzzah!, new life hovering on the brink of spring recovery! Sure enough, here and there on the slender branches of the hazelnut shrubs were just-emerging catkins. Validation that nature hasn't forgotten long-appreciated routines announcing the transition from winter to spring. Cheering us up immensely. Not that we didn't appreciate winter; we always do. It's just that at this time of year we're looking for a change, and spring's arrival is that change.

 

And with spring on the cusp of formally presenting its entrance on March 21st, it looks entirely justified in the decision Jackie and Jillie took to put away their winter jackets until next winter arrives. Now, woolly sweaters will do the trick to keep them comfortable in milder temperatures, even if radiating from ground level there is ample icy temperature from the thick layers of ice and snow forming the winter snowpack.

 

The creek is now freely running, wide and deep, carrying along all manner of detritus, as the snow begins to melt and run down the hills. We all decided we'd venture out to the ravine a few hours earlier than usual. And despite that this has turned out to be a superb weather day with a high temperature of 5C, occasional sun and light breeze, surprisingly enough we had the forest trails almost to ourselves.

And then, just before we concluded our extra-long tramp through the trails, we came across a sign that had b een helpfully hung on a tree branch. Reminding all who enter the ravine of the returned presence of the coyotes that had last year at this time departed the ravine. A reversal; they've been absent from the ravine all last summer into fall and through most of the winter. Now, people whose backyards face the ravine report seeing them even in their backyards. And not just between dusk and dawn, but mid-day.