Following on from my late-2018 prototype, I’ve taken the book of “perforated notes” forward to the next level.

Yesterday afternoon I set and printed some covers (Perforated Notes in Tourist Gothic 36 pt., using the alternate capital N, and the credit in Gill Sans 18 pt.) on 4” x 4¼” brown card stock, and cut, folded, and perforated white 20 lb. paper to the same size.

This morning I bound the first copy, punching four holes through the covers and signatures, and then binding them with green cord using a Japanese style stab-binding:

Here’s what the finished notebook looks like:

Copy number one goes to Katherine Burnett, who expressed interest in having one all her own.

At the end of October I purchased a lovely Baron Fig hardbound dot grid notebook and, eager to take both it and some new fountain pen ink out for a ride, I put it beside my bed and set out to write a brief summary of the day every night before I went to sleep.

I’ve succeeded in doing so every night since then; I generally fill a page or two with banal notes about what I had for breakfast and lunch, my main work activity, a note or two about Catherine and Oliver, and I always finish up with noting my bedtime and the outside temperature.

I’ve modified my daily routine a little to write the heading for the current day when I get up, which presents me then with a blank page to represent the unending promise of the day ahead.

The other resolution-like activity I’ve been engaged in since the fall is making my bed every morning.

Although I came up with this on my own, my reasons mirror those of that great guru of routine, Tim Ferris, who mentions this in a video about morning routines:

Number one: making your bed. I know this sounds odd. It was first recommended to me by an Indian monk; he convinced me of the merits. Because you are accomplishing one thing at the beginning of the day, no matter what happens with unforeseen variables for the rest of the day, you will return to a made bed at the end of the day, and as a bookmark, beginning and end, it sets you up psychologically to be more productive, and also to feel better even if things go sideways later.

Although I don’t worship at the altar of productivity as Ferris does–and I certainly don’t have it in me to adopt other aspects of his morning routine, of the “do 3,000 yoga sprints while yelling out Tony Robbins’ aphorisms for life” ilk–making my bed every morning has done exactly as he describes, and it’s now an inviolable part of my daily routine.

January 1, 2019 saw Prince Edward Island receive a 20 cm dumping of snow and, later in the day, an increase in the wind; as a result, many of the scheduled New Year’s Levees were cancelled, especially later ones.

The irony, for me, was that I was kept so busy updating the levee schedule web page in the morning that I didn’t manage to make it out to the Lieutenant Governor’s, to City Hall, or to any of the other earlier levees that did go ahead (this was, in part, because I was at home and not in the office, and so I was editing the website with my phone, which is never a quick proposition).

Oliver being both a creature of routine and as fine a student of the levee as me, insisted that the day not be left entirely a bust, so we donned our coats and scarves and hats and gloves, suited up Ethan the Dog, and trudged through the snow to the Haviland Club and to the PEI Regiment, both of which were satisfyingly bustling.

Keen observers will be able to identify more than one person in this photo I took from the balcony looking down (look for an outcropping of Green Party adherents, and at least one Pendergast and one Leo Cheverie).

The Prince Edward Island Regiment Band was as crack as it’s ever been (did you know that “musician” is a recognized trade in the Canadian military? I didn’t), the conviviality was strong, and the museum–always opened for the levee–was as interesting as ever.

Happy New Year!

St. Paul’s Anglican Church commemorated the beginning of its 250th year by ringing its bells 250 times at midnight tonight.

My friend Elmine made a new video every day in December and posted each to her YouTube channel.

Spurred on by her disciplined example, and with the helpful guidance of Making Books, I’ve been trying to make at least one book a day. This has been proving very helpful in teaching me the pitfalls of folding and cutting and sewing. Here are some early examples, each imperfect in its own special way:

I’ve made four stab-bound notebooks since starting this run, and here’s what I’ve learned so far:

• Punching the holes with the awl is a really important step to get right: if the holes don’t go all the way through, or if they’re crooked, everything that happens next is harder.
• It really does help if I run the needle and thread through beeswax before sewing: friction is reduced greatly. I need to be sure not to apply too much beeswax, though, as it can get ground into the cover if I’m not careful.
• Tangled thread is the enemy, and can run things quickly off the rails. The best response is to take a breath, reverse engineer the tangle, and proceed.
• Nothing makes a stab binding look worse than ending up with threads wrapped around each other: see the third hole from the right in the green example above; conversely, neat and ordered stitches, pulled taut, produce a pleasant result (the middle example is my best yet).
• Actually, nothing makes a stab binding look worse than stabbing myself with the very sharp bookbinding needle and bleeding all over the book and my tools (example omitted from photo).

I’ve seen some examples online of a hybrid coptic-stab binding technique that has the visual pleasures of the later with the functional pleasures of the former; that’s what I’m off to next.

An interesting post from Jarek Piórkowski about the open data available for Presto card users about their transit usage (Presto is the contactless transit fare scheme used in the greater Toronto area and in Ottawa).

(I tried accessing my own Presto usage from trips to Burlington I made in 2017 and 2018, but the Presto verification process went sideways for me at some point after my initial registration and I’ve never been able to resolve this).

We came out to our friends Ila, Sosi, Paul and Lori’s Belfast compound for the afternoon. The main event was an failed attempt to light the burn pile; a disappointing conflagration, but a nice photo of the setting sun.

If you can overlook that it’s on a site called “The Art of Manliness,” this guide to threading a needle got me threading needles 100% of the time (up from approximately 0% of the time previously).

I like to have a notebook in my bag to jot notes on, and often I want to tear those notes out and hand them to someone, so today I made a prototype of a “removable notes” notebook:

When I write “prototype” I really mean “rough and ready,” as I encountered some challenges with the stab binding that rendered it less than I would like it to be (and those challenges most extended from my complete inability to thread needles). But the concept worked.

The “removable” nature of the notes by running the signatures through “perf rule” on my letterpress, a hardened-steel perforated cutting blade that does a remarkably good job at perforating:

Here’s a short video of the “removability” of the notes in action:

It’s a very pleasing tear.

Khoaw Pon Authentic Thai on Great George Street has become one of my regular lunch stops: the food is well-made and well-spiced, the staff are friendly, they serve cold water in a tall ice-free glass, and the prices are reasonable.

Today I stopped in for lunch to find the placed slammed: there was a table of about 25 people taking up almost all the available seating, with several take-out orders waiting for food.

They handled the situation with aplomb, however: they offered me a seat in the (almost empty) burger place next door and, when my food, understandably, took about 30 minutes to arrive, they presented me with a $20 gift certificate for my troubles.

As a result they turned a bad situation, where I might drop them from my lunch rotation and recommend against others eating there, into a good situation where I’m lauding them.

Bravo.