The snow thrower was somewhat balky when Irving used it  a few days back after the last snowfall. It seems the part he replaced that had snapped that controls the machine's directional movement during clean-up from the storm before that one, hadn't been sufficiently tightened. So that's what he set about doing, as it sat in the larger of the two garden sheds, after breakfast. There's yet another snowstorm on the way, and he doesn't want to face the difficulty he encountered cleaning up the last one.

He's still trying to figure out why one of the standard light fixtures at the front of the house isn't responding. It's likely that the freezing rain event penetrated the interior wiring  causing a short. Other alternatives that Irving explored haven't seemed to make a difference. He was set to try drying the line but couldn't find the old warming device he had in his workshop. He thought he'd try an old hair dryer, but when he turned it on, the thing began smoking.

Maintaining a household isn't boring; the expectation that nothing will ever experience operational fatigue or just fail to operate for any number of reasons simply belies reality. Irving has always been able to figure these things out and he's always had success in solving the problem. Patience is a virtue.

He also took apart two heat registers, one in our bathroom the other in our clothes closet in the wan hope that my missing earring  could have slipped into either of them. Where it ended up remains a mystery. I've since replaced that pair that I've worn steadily for decades with another pair I've had equally long, but haven't worn before. They're almost a dead-ringer for the missing one; tiny gold hoops with inset diamonds.

Today is heavily overcast, compared to yesterday's full sun, but the temperature is almost the same; -2C yesterday, 0C today. Snow was supposed to start this afternoon, but it was 5:00 pm by the time we returned home from our afternoon ravine hike and the snow still hadn't started. I've got a dried bean-and-pea soup with vegetables simmering on the stove for  tonight's dinner. Guaranteed to solve the inner chill of a winter evening.

There's ample snow accumulated now in the forest. The trees are still lavishly painted with snow, and the landscape retains its beautiful scintillating appearance of overall white on dark tree trunks, that classic black-and-white combination reflecting this time of year. Jackie and Jillie seem to literally bounce about on the trails, happy to be out and making the most of their daily trek through the forest.

Today, it was one uninterrupted by the presence of others; no other hikers, no other canine friends. We had the trails all to ourselves. Everything was still, the atmosphere windless, sound absorbed by the plush snow covering, equaling pure serenity. And then, dusk entered to fulfill its pact with oncoming, resolute night.

 

In the mornings these January days we tend to tidy up the backyard walkways from the snow that has fallen overnight, clearing the way for the dainty little paws of our two toy poodles that are 'toy' in breed identity only. They're pretty robust for little dogs and certainly much larger than is assumed for their breed.  It's only when the temperature plunges for any prolonged period to -20-degrees Celsius that they don't care to be out on the snow. And they do require protection for their paws when newfallen snow is present at a temperature exceeding -6C.

 

Once the day dwindles toward evening, on comes the fireplace. It had been converted from a log-burning fireplace to a gas fireplace over thirty years ago. It's a comfort to look at and the additional heat it pumps into the house (two-sided, it faces both the family room and the living room) is appreciated. It's on every evening and will be, until late March.

 

We've been given another perfect winter day this Saturday. A reasonable -2C, with no wind and clear blue sky, the sun pumping its own heat into the atmosphere and brightening the house interior. Jackie and Jillie were all for an earlier afternoon run through the ravine. The footing was improved over yesterday's when the two-day snowstorm had ended, leaving an ample amount of snow underfoot. It was far less arduous climbing the hills in the ravine today.

The sun filtering through the tree canopy also makes the landscape appear particularly beautiful, although this is a timeless scene that looks hauntingly lovely in any circumstances. Because of the lack of wind, not much snow has tumbled off the forest trees. The boughs of evergreens still hang low with their burden of shining white.

 

There are areas of the ravine where the terrain is particularly unstable around the banks of the creek. Old trails that have lost their distance from the little chasm leading to the running water.And where warning signage has been erected, along with wire fencing to ensure that people don't take unnecessary risks, given the propensity of the Leda clay hillsides to slump, and the banks of the creek to slide away. In some areas the trails have become very narrow, where it's prudent to take alternative trails rather than risk a slide into the water.

 

The creek has remained open so far this winter. There haven[t been enough sustained days and nights of really icy temperatures in the range of -20C yet. It's been a relatively mild winter so far. The current is too strong for the temperature to influence the water to freeze over, in these conditions. Long gone the winters when the creek froze completely and we could walk along it safe from plunging into the icy interior.

 

When we were up on the main trail we came across a new acquaintance walking two large-breed dogs. He and Irving began a conversation, while I walked ahead to keep Jackie and Jillie from bothering the two big dogs, one of which is recovering from surgery. Evidently the dog had surgery on both front legs; odd since large dogs often have problems with hip displacement and their hind legs. Evidently the cost of surgery on enquiry was $10,000 for each leg, but the fellow finally found a rural veterinarian surgeon who did the work for $3,500 each leg. And his dog's mobility is coming along nicely.

 

While I walked ahead, I came across two of our old ravine friends, Barrie and Sheila. I did a double-take when I saw only Maya, the smallest of their three sibling border collies with them. Late last year they had lost one of the 15-year-olds, and now suddenly the ailing second male border collie suddenly collapsed and died last week. And Maya, their sister, is slowly recovering from the shock of being the only dog in a household that thrives with the presence of three.

Ho-hum, another day, another snowstorm. It is winter, after all. And this region of the world hosts cold temperatures resulting in any number of precipitation scenarios, from snow, to snow pellets, freezing rain, whiteout conditions, flurries, and full-blast snowstorms. Overnight we had yet another such storm, but it was a fairly tame, run-of-the-mill event. Nothing spectacular. Moderate winter temperature, no tempestuous winds and what fell was snow, not a mixture of freezing rain, ice pellets and snow in alternating layers.

Our bedroom windows were lit up with the luminescence of falling snow throughout the night. It is beyond comforting to be in a cozy, warm bed knowing that snow is gently falling and your eyes will be treated to a winter wonderland in the morning. Of course there is that concomitant issue of tidying up the snow where it falls in areas that require a clear passageway. So even while our aesthetic sense of natural beauty has been titillated, there is a cost to it all in physical energy expended.

First thing this morning, Jackie and Jillie waded through the snow in the backyard to do their morning things and they had to be towelled down from the snow covering their recently-shorn pelts. It was still snowing, continuing the overnight accumulation. Then Irving and I went out to shovel out the walkways in the back so that next time our little tykes went out, there would be no need to wade through six inches of snow.

The forecast was for snow to end at noon, but the clouds dumping their loads on the landscape below failed to get the message. By early evening when Irving went out to start up the snowthrower to clear the passageways at the front of the house it was still snowing.

Long before then I was busy in the kitchen, making buttertarts. They're one of our perennial favourites. Irving likes them runny, I prefer them firm, so I aim for something in between, but I must admit they're more on the firm than runny end by the time I take them out of the oven. Arranging the rounds of pastry dough into paper cups seated inside cupcake tins takes a degree of dexterity and patience. The pastry form comes out less than perfectly round, but ready to receive the filling of raisins, butter, brown sugar, corn syrup, egg, vanilla and nutmeg.

It was just hovering at freezing when Jackie and Jillie hauled us up the street to the ravine entrance. The trails, we found, were nowhere near as firm and tramped down as yesterday but that was expected. We did a little slipping, but nothing serious. Possibly we were too busy ogling the landscape to really concentrate on where our boots were going.

The tree-and-branch-clinging lumps of snow that remained from last week's snowstorm were now liberally slathered with fresh snow, a brilliant white world ensued, with more descending as we hiked the trails. No wind today,  unlike the past several days. The puppies were quite obviously pleased with their playground's new-old appearance of a bouncing comforter of billowing white.

 

We've been getting a bit of a break from colder temperatures this past few days with around -1C and 0-degrees Celsius taking the place of -8C and -20C, more common for this time of year. But we can still rest assured that sub-zero temperatures will make their triumphant return from time to time within the next two- to three-month period. The strange thing is, often even with the higher temperatures, it still feels icily wintry. And so, we appreciate all the benefits of comfort food.

The savoury beef and vegetable pie we had last night fit the bill quite well. And I could feel a bit virtuous about using leftovers from a beef roast we'd had several days earlier as filling for the pie. Along with tiny quartered roast potatoes, carrots, mushrooms and peas in an onion gravy. The pastry for savoury pies like this always come away tasting anything but neutral, picking up flavour from the pie ingredients. And the fresh quartered pears we had for dessert were perfect as palate-cleansers.

Of course the partial reason that it seems so wintry irrespective of the temperature highs for the day is because, after all it is winter. Often on the coldest of days the sun rides across a perfectly clear blue sky and wind is at a minimum. As for those milder temperatures, they usually come accompanied by a pervasive dampness and wind as well, both of which tend to counteract the mildness.

Today was another such day. Mild, heavily overcast, windy and damp. It's an error of judgement to think that what you see on the outside thermometer should govern how you prepare yourself for the out-of-doors for a prolonged exposure. We dressed Jackie and Jillie in intermediate-weight winter jackets and regretted it later, though they didn't seem to mind.

And nor did their Black Lab friend Evie, who detests warm weather and glories in icy-cold temperatures, laving herself with new snow, making snow angels in her happiness. She was out today and accompanied Jackie and Jillie for a while through the forest trails. Only when she was a puppy did we ever see her move so fast with the sheer joy of her surroundings.

The forest trails are in perfect shape, no sliding and gliding. And although the tree canopy has lost some of the slathered-on snow and ice that weighs down boughs and branches, there is plenty of it left to convey that wonderful impression of a winter wonderland. 

When we crossed over the last of the bridges fording the forest creek this afternoon, a flock of about a dozen robins flew out from under the bridge. There was a time decades ago when no robins would remain here, they'd all head south anticipating winter. Since they're mostly live eaters, it's hard to imagine how they could possibly find enough sustenance in this winter landscape, but they do.

We also saw, for the first time in months, evidence that the creek is still home to goldfish, the progeny of a large number of goldfish that someone years ago had released into the forest creek. The goldfish become fodder for Great Blue Herons that pass briefly through on their northward migration in spring, as well as pairs of ducks that do the same. We've seen some bright orange goldfish that have attained a considerable size. 

They tend mostly to congregate in another part of the ravine, but when they move upstream on occasion they can be found in little 'pools' formed at various places by the creek. Those of an orange hue are readily spotted, the far more numerous spawn are tiny, and black, swimming in little schools and difficult to detect from the banks of the creek. 

 

Preparing to ready ourselves to leave the house early for food shopping, I pulled a nice warm sweater over my head, snuggled into the turtleneck top and felt one of my earrings leave my ear. It was nowhere to be seen. I thought it might have got tangled in the sweater, I lifted the scatter rug, I looked behind the door, nada. I've worn those earrings for close to the last twenty years, a gift from Irving on our 50th wedding anniversary. It may turn up yet at some time, somewhere. It's a tiny gold hoop with inset diamonds. Too bad.

Once the shopping was done we gave our attention to getting Jackie and Jillie out to the groomers for their badly needed haircut. Oh, bath and nail trimmings too. They know when we pull up what's on tap. Just as well the young women who look after them treat them like royalty, warmly affectionate, so they're trusted by the pups. 

 

 

When we return an hour and a half later, they see us from a floor-to-ceiling window in one of the old veterinarian inspection rooms. The grooming part of the veterinary clinic we take them to once housed the clinic, now it's attached to a larger, newer addition.

Yesterday was a cold, damp day. Our plan to get out for a ravine hike in the afternoon went awry when freezing rain entered the picture. We can hike in freezing rain, but this was heavy freezing rain and wind swept it toward our faces, so we opted out. Just as well since Jillie wasn't feeling particularly well for the past week. Her tendency to chew wood came back to haunt her. We had picked up some FortiFlora for her at t he vet and it and rice and chicken soup seems to have finally settled her stomach.

 

I had soaked some pinto beans the night before, deciding to make stove-top 'baked beans' for dinner, for a change. In the morning I drew the beans to a boil, and simmered them for an hour, then left them to await the addition of garlic, jalapeno pepper, onion, tomato paste, salt, pepper, molasses, and a wee bit of Tabasco to simmer in the late afternoon. They were just the way we like them by dinnertime and made a savoury, spicy treat for a change.

 

Today, we set out on a really mild day for our missed afternoon hike of yesterday. The sun blazed overhead, but what might have been a perfect winter day was made a trifle chillier than it might have been if the wind wasn't as persistent as it was. Still, after the freezing rain, about four cm. of snow followed, leaving the forest trails in excelling hiking shape. So we decided, given the circumstances, that it made sense to prolong the hike a bit.

 

Over the fresh new snow we could see shards of wood littering under some trees, a signal that a Pileated woodpecker had been hard at work. In the distance as we were hauling ourselves up the last of the hills, completing our circuit for the afternoon, we heard the hoarse rasp of a raven.

 

Returned home, I set about to bake a meat pie for dinner. On Monday we'd had a roast beef dinner. Too much for us to eat at one sitting, so I cut up the leftover roast to use it as the base for the pie. One that is a meal unto itself, since it contains as well, onions, garlic, mushrooms, carrots, green peas, and tiny roasted potatoes.

It tells you something about the heating power of a winter sun when you see its effects in action. Take, for example, the sheet-metal canopy over our deck, piled high with snow. When the snow accumulates to a depth of over six inches, the manufacturer recommends the snow be cleared off the canopy. So at least several times throughout the course of the winter Irving has to climb a ladder on the deck, to use a long handled roof 'rake' to get all the snow off. 

The danger is if the canopy, weighted down with snow and ice collapses onto the deck while someone happens to be standing or momentarily walking under it, the consequences have the potential to be serious. We can be assured, however, that if sun follows the heavily clouded day that gave us a heavy snowfall, the sun will do the work for us.

 

Following our last two-day snowstorm that left 26 cm of snow and a piled-high canopy, we've enjoyed a number of consecutive icy-cold, but clear days. The sun does its work very efficiently; day one of full sun melted the snow and ice at the corners of the canopy. Today is day three of -7C degrees with full sun and the canopy is now almost entirely shed of all that snow. Of course nothing is ever as simple as it seems. As the snow melts it drips and falls on to the deck. And it takes no time at all for the melted snow lying on the deck, to become an icy surface.

One potential hazard solved, another pops up. But one that's more easily controlled. We just avoid those icy areas and feel grateful there's no need to manoeuvre about with ladders and rakes in awkward positions. Both risk a fall, but one type of fall s far riskier than the other.

 

We set out with Jackie and Jillie a little later than usual for our ravine hike today since it's house-cleaning day. The sun had already set when we left the house a tad after four, but there was still ample light. Once we're in the forest the ambient snow cover also emits a bright light, temporarily keeping dusk at bay. But it seems to take little time before we realize that yes, dusk has entered. And by the time we leave the forest it's become dark.

Hiking conditions on the trails are just perfect. the snow has been well tamped down by many booted feet and dog paws. The trail tends to be narrower on offshoot trails than the main trails, but they're easily negotiable. We've had no wind to accompany those sunny days, so nothing has really much disturbed the snow layered thickly on tree limbs and branches. 

 

When we descend to the bottom of the ravine and turn toward one of the bridges fording the forest creek Jackie and Jillie are always busy sniffing about to discover who has been there before them. They are able to scent clues anywhere, even on newfallen snow. It reminds me of us reading the daily newspaper. They pick up the neighbourhood dog news.

As we approach the bridge Jillie always looks above to the hills leading to the ridge and the trails up above to check whether anyone is out and about up there. Long before we mount that hill ourselves she is loudly proclaiming our presence. Her shrill barks sometimes elicit responses in gruffly deeper tones and most often they're her friends whom she has alerted to cookie opportunities. It takes no time before some of her friends join us anxious not to miss any handouts.

 

What's for dinner tonight? Well, on another -7C, icy day where the temperature is set to drop again close to -20C overnight and we had a lentil-bean chowder with freshly baked dinner rolls yesterday, today's dinner will be different A beef roast, Yorkshire pudding, green beans and fresh blueberries with yoghurt for dessert. And a little bit of all of that for Jackie and Jillie after their own dinner.

 

We're just over two weeks' worth of a spanking new year. Already it's the Ides of January; a half-month has flown quickly by. Hard to believe. The landscape has been renewed, and it's downy-light and looking brilliant in the intense glare of the January sun. We're expecting our first -20C overnight tonight for this New Year. Everything is refreshed and beautiful looking and the results of the holiday festivities when people mingled happily during family get-togethers and in an appealing social scene reborn after years of isolation and lockdowns are telling on the national health system.

New Year it may be, and a fresh beautiful one at that but the nightmare of the SARS-CoV-2 virus is still with  us. And because the variants of a variant called Omicron are far more contagious than the original COVID-19, people seriously infected are crowding hospitals everywhere, ICUs are inadequate to the numbers needing them, and the death toll keeps rising globally. We're fed up with it all and make ourselves deliberately 'unaware'.

 

China's outraged citizens' recent demonstrations against the 'zero-COVID' policy of the Chinese Communist Party and its President Xi Jinping prompted a sudden relaxation of the strict isolation and lockdowns which led to a massive flood of infections straining hospitals and morgues in the population-dense country.

And though here at home we're in far better shape thanks to a sweeping inoculation surge across the country resulting in a high percentage of circulating antibodies as close to group immunity as possible with this pandemic, our own hospitals are seeing challenges never before encountered in their response to demands on universal health care. Local epidemiologists lay the cause squarely on a population too eager to drop all common sense in the face of an implacable virus intent on fully dominating humanity.

 

How fortunate we've been so far to evade contracting the disease which at our age of 86 is a known, potentially lethal pathogen. Everyone's life has changed with the need for caution against exposure. What was frightening and difficult three years ago has now become routine common sense in self-protection. Hugely costly in many ways, stricturing our social agenda and just everything we've taken for granted. Worse for families with young children. The world truly turned itself upside down and inside-out.

 

Our own routine in life adjusted over time, and truth be told, life for us hasn't undergone a wholesale change. It has made life far more complicated and less spontaneous. Perhaps at our age you become more philosophical about things you can't really do much about other than accept them and get on as best you can.

So today we did just that, carrying on as usual, including getting out with our two little dogs to enjoy a truly fine winter slog through new snow in a beautiful forest setting.Tramping through a narrowed forest trail, breathing in crisp, fresh air, looking about at the various landscape presentations in a wide,  undulating ravine of hills and valleys, ridges and waterways, there is much to see and to enjoy. A total escape from nagging concerns, albeit temporarily. But one that is renewing and renewable.