As the day drew nigh to the time of the total solar eclipse today, the sun's brilliance was subdued as the moon moved over the face of the sun, and the outdoor light standards responded by turning on to cast their light against the oncoming 'night' that would last all of three minutes.
 

Our oldest son is the long-time archivist at the Royal Astronomical Society, an inveterate connoisseur of all things astronomical. He writes frequently of astronomical events and chronicles the history of astronomy, a true passion. He and our daughter-in-law planned to drive from Toronto to Kingston today to observe the uniquely rare event of the moon blocking the sun in a total eclipse. Totality in some parts of Ontario offers a rare glimpse of celestial majesty in motion. Here in Ottawa we were promised 98% totality.

The day began with clear skies of a pale-to-brighter azure, the sun ascendant this afternoon moving through a randomized cloud cover, but blazing, notwithstanding. We weren't wedded to the prospect of viewing the eclipse, although we were drawn to view the skies intermittently and more so as the climax neared. The sun was bright, hot and large in appearance this beautiful early spring day when the temperature rose to 18C.

 

Truth to tell, we were busy with routine during the day; me cleaning the house on the usual Monday, and Irving sitting down to tackle our income tax returns. Occasional breaks however, as we toured the backyard with Jackie and Jillie and mused about the heavenly features taking place in a grand show of nature's mysterious and ineffable design. We did note, however, that clouds were moving in to partially obscure the spectacle-to-come, but even with the clouds the sun was brilliantly resplendent.

Our stained glass windows that Irving designed and produced over the years glowed and then dimmed and muted as the exterior light retreated and darkness entered the house. The coloured glass seems to have a life of its own, conveying that 'life' to the creatures that often appear in the stained glass designs; birds mostly, but other animals as well.

 

Later, when all was done, the floors duly washed -- (I even pulled out the stove and washed the floor under it today), and because it was so late, put a Cornish hen in the oven to slow-cook in our absence -- we took ourselves out to the nature closest to us physically. Jackie and Jillie needed only their harnesses and collars, a departure from the weather conditions not long gone, when they had to be protected with coats and boots against the icy winds and snow-packed forest floor.

Another lovely circuit through the forest trails for us, on this warm spring day. Jackie and Jillie running ahead, sniffing everywhere, occasionally remembering we were bringing up the rear, and returning briefly before leaving us again to watch over them as they cantered here and there off the trail for short jaunts into the interior beckoned by some irresistible odour promising a revelation of some canine fascination.

 

 

There are signs beginning to appear of awakening in the forest. Blackberry canes already show little indications of midsummer fruit. Hazelnut shrubs have produced thick, long catkins preparatory to producing nuts that the squirrels duly appreciate in the summer months. Chickadees and nuthatches flittered through the evergreens. The season is progressing.

 

What an alluring, perfectly beautiful day this has been! I've got plenty of work to do indoors, since I've started spring cleaning, and our kitchen has an enormous number of cupboards to go through. Bit by bit it'll all be done, day by day, when the time presents out of the normal household tasks that are looked after routinely. But something called me outdoors this morning.

 

Oh now I remember, it was Irving taking out a stepladder to reach one of the light posts in the front garden to replace several lightbulbs. Since he was out, I thought I might just as well join him. So, while he was replacing lightbulbs I 'noticed' some tree branches and climbing rose stalks that called out for trims. And while I was at it, the dried stalks of many of the hostas suggested I clear them away too. And before I knew it, there was a half-full bag of compost for Tuesday's pick-up.

 

It's just that the sun was so warm, and so was the ambient temperature, at 10C, preparing to rise to 14C for the afternoon. Back into the house we went, to proceed with other things on a busy day. And when all that was done, I put on a dried-pulses and vegetable soup to simmer for a few hours in preparation for dinner. Yesterday's dinner was somewhat similar; a vegetable soup and freshly-baked whole-wheat-cheese-sesame croissants, hot out of the oven. Vegetable soups and warm dinner rolls complement one another.

 

That having been done, we set out for an afternoon walk through the ravine with Jackie and Jillie. Hardly knowing what to expect. Last time we were there, just a few days back, it was a mild, but windy and cooler day. We watched as a pair of Mallards that tend to return to the ravine every spring to nest while on their way further north, disported themselves in the creek, happily bathing. We thought we might see them again today, but they were obviously elsewhere deeper in the ravine.

What we did see was bright pops of yellow-gold on the banks of the forest creek; the earliest of the spring flowers already in residence to our gratification. Little colonies of coltsfoot popping up here and there, a welcome sight, much in advance of later early-spring flowers like woodland violets, trout lilies and trilliums, not to mention our favourites, Jack-in-the-Pulpits. All yet to arrive.

 

Jackie and Jillie were happy to be out, intrigued by all the fragrances we cannot detect, but which deliver to them all manner of doggy-important news of the neighbourhood. We saw few others out enjoying the woodland trails, and that likely was due to uncertainty over the condition of the trails. The snowstorm several days back that left heavy piles of deep wet snow has left no trace, although the high winds that accompanied the several-day storm event, did take down some vulnerable trees.

 

The forest floor, however, was fairly dry for the most part, and that was welcome, as we bathed ourselves in the warmth of the bright spring sun, sailing through the blue ocean of sky today, the slightest of breezes evident, and the most exquisite feeling of spring-appreciation hugging our sensibilities.

 

You run the risk of shelled nuts going rancid if they're not used fairly expeditiously. I was certain I had some pecans in a jar, waiting to be used, but they hadn't been refrigerated and I wasn't certain just how useful they'd be for use in the pastries. They were discarded, but I had another package of them, unopened, and they were put to use instead, the remainder placed in a jar in my crowded refrigerator. I had asked Irving what he would prefer, raisin tarts or pecan tarts and he said 'both'. And both he will have.

 

 

We were out in the ravine with our puppies this afternoon, for a relaxed foray through the forest trails. That in itself is not unusual, since we're out there every afternoon with Jackie and Jillie. What was different was that on this day the temperature high soared to 8C. That, and the fact that the sun was out for most of the day made for an extremely temperature-temperate excursion.

 

 

It's not just we humans who think this is unusual. We heard owls in discussion and surmise they may also have been puzzled at this unusual winter weather. Which is slated to continue for the next little while, at least in much of Ontario. This, just days after the East Coast had a weather event that was hugely unusual, but not in a delightful way, like ours. Parts of Nova Scotia were inundated with an enormous amount of snow; up to 150 cm in some areas over a three-day period. People could not even shovel their way out of their homes. Those that were able to, ended up with tunnels whose sides soared 20 feet in height. 

 

While we were out we had some visits from the usual suspects dropping by with cookie expectations. But we were also introduced to a dog we'd never before seen. It was being walked by a teen we've long known who explained that this was a neighbour's dog. He had agreed to look after the dog in their absence. So he drops by the house when he can to feed and water and walk the dog, an elderly Golden.

 

She was the most expressive dog we've ever been exposed to. She went directly up to Irving and me, pleading to be noticed, obviously wanting to be petted, moving as close to us as our bodies would allow. She looked appealing up at us, speaking all the while. Not whining, nothing like that, but clearly distraught over something. And that something was that she was left alone to her own devices, her people away, and she was distinctly unhappy.

The  young man's family has a dog of their own and they dote on it. It was generous of the boy to agree to look after a neighbour's dog. He told us he tries to spend a little time in the house with it, to calm its lonely grief, and that's so good of him. But obviously the dog needs a lot more reassuring arrangement. Even if its owners had taken it to a commercial operation that cares for dogs in their owners' absence, it would have been less emotionally disruptive than their decision to leave their elderly pet alone for a prolonged period on her own.

 

 

 

We've lucked in lately. We've been enjoying a succession of perfect winter weather. The temperature hovering slightly above or below freezing, and full-on  sun exposure out of a perfect sea of blue. The winter winds that seemed so constant have been tamed of late. The large windows of our house have welcomed the sunlight streaming through, warming the interior. But of course as soon as dusk arrives -- although it's coming along at least an hour later than it did in mid-December -- the light and warmth of that giant life-giving orb disappears, and everything cools down again. Night-time lows are still hovering around -10C.

 

When we were shopping, Irving picked up some beef liver. Reminding me we haven't had a meal of liver in a while. And he loves it dredged in herbed and seasoned crumbs and served alongside fried onions. He also enjoys the combination of sweet-and-sour beets with it, and mashed potatoes. So that settled what we were going to have for dinner last night. He never eats to excess, although I have a tendency to. We had little bowls of raspberries for dessert. An indulgence of bright tastes and colour.

 

 

I had an appointment to see a nurse-practitioner this afternoon at 3:00 p.m., so we managed to get out for our daily ravine hike with the puppies at one o'clock to give ourselves plenty of time outdoors. The high for the afternoon was 4-lovely-degrees under that cerulean sky that heals all psychological wounds; at least temporarily. We've got to continue wearing those wicked cleats over our boots, otherwise we'd be slipping and sliding and trying to gain traction where none is to be had. Even the puppies, wearing their little rubber boots against the cold, did a little slipping on the iced trails. The sun, glancing off the ice-slicked snowpacks makes it appear like a soft billowing wave of sheer ice.

 

There are now little hemlock cones fallen everywhere on the forest floor, joining the spruce and pine cones that fell earlier. No shortage of food for the squirrels and other wildlife this winter. On a sadder note, the signs of a carnivore's feast are still evident on a small area of one of the trails and we wince every time we pass it. Jackie and Jillie have taken to nibbling on thin twigs newly fallen and revealed with  the snow shrinkage responding to the weather. Most dogs like to chew on wood, but their tracheas are so narrow because they're such small dogs. So last night Jackie was doing that kind of hacking cough trying to dislodge a sliver of the wood, and today Jillie threw up her breakfast along with wood slivers.

 

Later in the day, for my appointment, we were introduced to new concepts in shopping. The professional medical group where our MD practices is located within a Great Canadian Superstore complex not far from our home. This huge sprawling complex has closed off all of its entrances and exits but one; in an attempt, we believe, to deter shop-lifters, a 'sport' that has become all too common, along with an epidemic of car-jackings.

 

At the clinic, I saw a nurse-practitioner, not our general practitioner -- by choice. She was very good, an earnest young woman whom I really liked. My shoulder is slowly improving. The rotary-cuff damage I incurred a week ago on top of the harm I did a month earlier while shovelling snow, is getting a little better. There are certain arm movements I have to prevent for the time being. Otherwise, I'm able to move my arm fairly well, and I've no problem sleeping at night. She recommended a prescribed pain killer, but I don't feel I need a pain killer. And she also prescribed physiotherapy, although I'm not convinced I want to do that, either.

I'll just give it more time. I must admit having an aching shoulder isn't much fun. There are things I can't really do at the present time. Cleaning the house properly, for example. While we were out in the ravine one of the Goldens that loves Irving came loping by for cookies. He's a really enthusiastic fellow, and he gave my arm a shock when he leaped at me in a frenzy of joy the first time. The second time, after he ate a few cookies, he leaped again, this time driving his face into mine and licking my eyes before I could really react. No harm done.

 

Ground hog day. Will it be an early spring this year, or will winter insist on staying around longer than we think it should? Evidently Puxatawny Pete saw his shadow today. So early spring it is. We might have guessed it ourselves. We're into a spate of mild days -- which is to say milder than usual for this time of year, and considerably so. Yesterday's afternoon high temperature was 4C, not the -6C it is supposed to be. Yet we weren't able to enjoy/take advantage of the outdoors because it rained all day.

 

I didn't mind too much. Having a 'day off', although there was plenty that needed to be done in the house on laundry day. Mostly I didn't mind because my left arm continues to ache, and confine my capacity to fully use it as normal. That happened about a month ago, that when I was shovelling snow and suddenly it felt as though a ligament snapped. Next time I shovelled, about two weeks ago I did so carefully. I'm waiting for my arm to return to normal.

 

 

Its condition hasn't stopped me from doing anything; I can cook and bake and clean, just can't reach around with that arm toward my back. I can elevate it at the front of my body, and it can withstand weights, but it won't swing effortlessly around to the back without pain and deep aches. So, imagine this, I can do everything except dress myself. Irving has to pull up my pants and my tights at the back; and zip up my skirts. I'm fine with the front.

 

Trying to decide last night what to bake today, my eye fell on a bowl of bananas. One very ripe, very large banana caught my eye,and I thought: aha! I'd bake banana muffins. And add dates for extra flavour and zing. So this morning that's just what I did. Before breakfast I steamed about ten small dates, then mashed them. The same with that large, ripe banana. And now, we have banana-date muffins. I also thought why not add some crushed flaxseed for good measure.

 

By afternoon and time to get ourselves out for a ravine hike, the morning's sun had long disappeared and given way to a deep overcast. We assumed, with the temperature reading 2C, it would feel quite moderate, yet anything but. The overall damp atmosphere led to an icy reality. Even so, because we missed our daily walk through the woods yesterday we decided to stay out longer and go further.

Jackie and Jillie were all for it. The footing was good on the trails, a layer of ice-melt over the tamped-down snow resulted in crushing sounds as our cleated boots bit into the ice, giving us the traction we need to ascend and descend the various hills. On Tuesday we had come across a veritable multitude of dogs on our  hike and Irving was out of cookie giveaways well before we reached our departure point.

 

Today, none others to be seen. Until we began our slog up the last hill toward street level and there was Evie, the black Lab, sitting patiently at the top of the side-hill trail leading to the main hill-trail, waiting for us. Our furry friends have such spectacular memories for those they consider their cookie-benefactors.

 

Yesterday being house-cleaning day, Irving and I were both busy, doing just that. On such days I'm all for the convenience of meal preparations that don't require too much effort. In that category I place tiny frozen Cornish game hens. They're so quick and easy to prepare. I often bake a little egg-noodle pudding to accompany a game hen, and some kind of green vegetable. Jackie and  Jillie are most appreciative of that kind of meal; invariably there's some of the breast left over that they can enjoy as a supplement-treat for several days afterward. 

 

Convenience is steadily taken out of our lives and the irritation factor is immense, but livable. In Canada, we're no longer able to rely on those disposable plastic shopping bags we're all so familiar with. They've been outlawed in the name of environmental protection. I can understand that to a degree, but in the same token though they're considered disposable, once they've served their original purpose, to carry your purchases home after a shopping trip, they have other uses, mostly as receptacles for trash. In their absence the option is to buy these same bags marketed as what else; receptacles for trash.

I also relied on those bags for other reasons. To be filled with articles of clothing, for example, that were deemed expendable, no longer serving a personal purpose, and to be donated to the Salvation Army thrift shop. I also used them each time we did our food shopping, filling one each week with a selection of canned and boxed food, to be deposited for the Food Bank. I began using cloth bags instead. But then last September we drove to New Hampshire for a week of vacation in the White Mountain National Forest range. And each time we shopped, for groceries or any other type of consumer product, they were packed in the kind of plastic bags that were outlawed in Canada.

 

I kept each and every one of them. And by the time we were ready to return home I had amassed a surprising number of plastic disposable bags. We packed them up and brought them home, and we're still using them for our weekly grocery deposits for the Food Bank. Ah, the weekly grocery shopping expeditions -- they too now have an irritant-factor. Supermarkets intent on maximizing their profits and focusing on the expendability of employing people to expedite their sales.

When we do our shopping, invariably we fill up that shopping cart. And we have no intention of using any of the self-check-outs. We go through the aisles with actual cashiers; they're far more adept, experienced and above all, efficient than we can be at putting all our purchases sliding along the conveyor belt, through the computer system to be cashed out. And we've noticed in the past several weeks that of the four-five cashier stations only one or two will be open.

People with a lot fewer purchases generally use the self-check-out, and store employees formerly acting as cashiers are often delegated to stand around the self-check-out area to supervise and assist people using that method. Today when we did our shopping there was a long line of people awaiting their opportunity to get at all the self-check-outs, since all were occupied. And there were no regular cashier-assisted lanes open.

People with shopping carts were patiently waiting at the Customer Service aisle, and a lone cashier that usually sells Lottery tickets and looks after client-store interactions was now doing the job of a regular cashier. Inconvenient to say the least. Did I mention that the small disposable plastic bags used for fruits and vegetables in bulk have also been changed; the plastic fabric is now so thin that anything of any weight like large oranges piled into them destroys the integrity of the plastic and the bag simply disintegrates.

People still maintain good humour through it all. While we were waiting our turn at that single Client Service lane, on two occasions young women carrying a few items offered to give us their places. We thanked them of course, and their offers made us all feel fairly good, but their surrendering their place in line while only purchasing several items made no practical sense, and we demurred.

Earlier in the day we took our puppies out for their afternoon hike through the forest. We've been plunged back into the January deep-freeze. We had sunshine and -3C yesterday, but overcast, an icy wind and -5C today. The temperature-wind combination made for a very cold adventure through the woods. Not cold enough to dampen Jackie and Jillie's enthusiasm for their walk on the wild side, however.

It was a fine outing we all had, invigorating and pleasurable simply to be out there. And as familiar as we are with the terrain and the landscape, it seems as though we're always seeing the arras before us as though through an lens of unfamiliarity. There is always something different to be noted. And today we fell in with familiar faces and other little dogs about the size of our own, all of whom had a lot to impart to one another.

 Usually when I do my baking, only a relatively small portion of whatever it happens to be serves as our Friday-evening dessert, the rest left over to be had on succeeding days. And if they're cupcakes they stay light and moist and fluffy, and pies keep over well too for several days, but anything baked with a yeast dough tends to taste at its optimum the day it's baked. I try to keep what I bake varied, although we do have favourites, like butter tarts and cheesecake. On Friday I thought I'd try something a little different and we ended up with yeast-raised cinnamon twists that I drizzled melted chocolate over.

 

They were quite good and since they're not very large, we enjoyed two apiece on the day they were baked. Gratifyingly, several days later they still taste fresh enough to be enjoyed. It's the sweet nature of the yeast dough, made with milk, egg, sour cream, butter and honey that allows them to age gracefully. The semi-sweet chocolate they're topped with adds little sweetness, but the chocolate serves as a good foil and goes well with the cinnamon.

I hadn't wanted to bake too many of them, knowing we'd never be able to eat more than eight or so between us over a succession of days, so once the dough had risen and was ready to be worked with, I halved it, froze one half and used the other for the twists. I'll find some other use for the portion that I froze, some time soon.

Speaking of projects, Irving is finally in the completed stage of one of his projects. He started it last winter, worked on it fairly steadily, then left it for the summer. When winter returned he did too, to his project, kind of sporadically. Now it's done, for the most part. He had constructed a door frame while he was working on what would become a stained glass insert. Then he discovered that the wood  he bought as kiln-dried mightn't have been, because the door, while awaiting its insert, became slightly warped.

So he took it down and continued working on the insert to completion. Once the stained glass was finished, he then built another door frame and installed it. The final piece of the project was the installation of the insert into the waiting door frame, and now it's complete.

 

Many things happen that don't quite meet expectations. As an example, approaching the end of January usually heralds the depths of winter, at least by the calendar. Not this year. This winter and for that matter fall as well, have been quite untypical. Our brief cold snap that was far more alike a normal winter has transformed into a spate of much milder-than-normal days. So mild in fact, at 3C, under cloud-crowded skies and little wind, creating melting snow conditions that it seems more like spring.

 

We're still pulling little rubber boots over the puppies' paws to keep them warm and dry. The snowpack on the forest floor while still considerable, is nowhere near the depth of a normal winter. And it has become a bit sludgy, sucking at our boots as we tramp through the forest trails. Still, we certainly don't miss the icy fingers of cold guided by winter wind that usually creep through our jackets. And this winter season hasn't yet signalled it's been defeated. There are many more snowstorms that can and will erupt on the atmosphere as winter wears on.