Hint of Summer

Nothing like the transition from winter to spring, in Ottawa. It's less a transition that an abrupt surprise. Only a few days ago - Monday - we experienced freezing temperatures, along with an Arctic wind, and heavy, wet snow - about 17 cm. Followed by more wind, and a lot more precipitation, in the form of rain. That was some day. More than halfway through the month of April and we were shunted back to winter. The tulips, daffodils, crocuses and miniature irises shoving themselves through the spring-warmed soil were just as confused as we were.

But here we are, a mere four days later, and the temperature soared to 18 degrees, with full sun. Not to be believed. The tiny emerging flowers in our flower beds are celebrating, and so are the birds; the robins know that before too long they'll have live prey. Our little dogs are back in spring fever mode, agitating continually to go out into the backyard, and we're not averse to letting them do that, although we've got to watch Riley post-surgery. There are some flies flitting about, and we've seen a few butterflies, and ants.

I set about baking a carrot cake for this evening's dessert, and put a chicken soup on to cook, after breakfast while my husband takes Button out for a walk in the ravine. I've opted to stay at home to watch little Riley who can't yet be taken out for walks. He follows me around, while I work in the kitchen, because he wants to be picked up and cuddled. Alternately, he agitates to be let out onto the deck, to sit in the sun.

And later, all of us go out to the backyard, to enjoy the warmth of the sun. This is after my husband has installed a series of electrical boxes above the kitchen cupboards. He's busy on another project; closing in the tops of the kitchen cupboards to the ceiling. He'll install doors with stained glass inserts, so the installation of a light source to backlight the stained glass is part of the project. When he's finished, and when I've finished putting the cream cheese icing on the cake and mixing up the ingredients for potato pudding, out we go.

While my husband sits in the backyard on a chair he's just hauled out of the garden shed, I arm myself with a small hand rake and shovel and tackle the nuisance of grass growing from the lawn behind our fence in sneaky incursions into our flower borders. It's easy work, pulling out the roots, with the soil freshly released from its winter state. I smooth out the soil that I've hauled off the roses, and inspect everything poking through the soil.

Then I make my way alongside and up the rock garden and finally venture out the gate to the front gardens, with Button and Riley following along with my husband, who seats himself on one of the stone benches out front as the dogs bask in the sun. One neighbour after another comes by, sits awhile talking, and it's as though the winter never was.