What a great resource Designers Toolbox is, especially this envelope reference. Want to make your own envelopes? Just print, cut and fold. Here’s one I just made:

There’s a magic transformation that happens once you fold along the dotted lines and what was once just a scrap of paper becomes a real envelope:

Not only is it 9°C outside with an expect high of 18°C, but here inside the Reinventorium it’s 21°C and 52% humidity, which, my humidistat tells me, is right in the middle of the “comfort zone” for temperature and “normal” level of humidity.  It’s shaping up to be the perfect day!

I appear to have entered the “printing inspirational quotes” phase of my life, as today’s letterpress project as a bright red “SET A GOAL.” Here’s what it looked like:

Here’s a brief movie I shot of the Golding Jobber No. 8 in action after the printing was complete (yes, I know, I know, the credits are as long as the video — what can I say, I like credits).

I’m setting a calendar for the month of May, and I need to know how many of each numeral I need to set the day numbers. So I figured it out, and here, for future reference, is a table of my count:

Prolific maker and friend of the blog Erin Bateman has a stall at the new Queen Square Market in the Murphy’s Community Centre and she is selling beanbags of two varieties, “heavy” and “light.” They are handmade on Prince Edward Island using genuine Island-grown beans for filler. I immediately bought one for the Reinventorium, as what office is complete without a beanbag?

The next step is to put the beanbag into regular office use. I can imagine  that Johnny and I can use it as a sort of “talking stick” during in-office discussions, and then, without missing a beat, break into intra-office squads for a quick game of beanbag soccer.

You can buy your own office beanbag from Erin every Sunday afternoon at the market.

Thanks to my sister-in-law Jodi, I spent a good deal of yesterday afternoon and evening addicted to Draw Something. Not only did I help Oliver go toe-to-toe with Jodi, and with my mother, but I also had a dozen games going with anonymous strangers from the ether. My stunning tour de force, alas unsuccessful at causing my game partner to guess WINSLET, was this:

How you cannot guess WINSLET for that, I do not know.

I was in Province House this morning for the announcement by Hon. Allen Roach, Minister of Innovation and Advanced Learning that our PEI Home and School Federation’s Home and School Toolkit has been translated into French, Farsi, Nepali, and Chinese. The translated toolkits, which are a guide to parents to help them engage in the education system, are available for download and will be distributed to schools in printed form.

The translation was enabled by the Province of PEI’s Immigration Services branch, with financial support from Citizenship and Immigration Canada: it’s great to see both levels of government realizing that one way of making new Islanders feel at home here is to work to ensure that parents can be full participants, regardless of language, in their child’s education.

Reading Practical Tips from 4 Years of Traveling The World — written by a woman who is doing just that — makes me want to travel again soon. Not only is it a good thumbnail sketch of some useful how-tos, but there’s a travel philosophy that underlies the pointers that I’ve very sympathetic to.

Tip No. 4, “Everything else you can buy,” brought to mind a demonstration of this that Oliver and I experienced on a visit to Wolfsburg, Germany two years ago.

We were staying at the youth hostel, and I’d forgotten to check to see if they provided towels or not. Turns out that they didn’t.

Now Oliver and I are both more prone to practical-detail-freakouts than your average person (just ask Catherine) so this was a chance both to test the “everything else you can buy” theory and also a good chance for us to address our own freakitudic tendencies head-on.

It turns out that everything else you can buy: we simply found our way to the Müller department store our first night after supper (fringe benefit: an opportunity to wander around the city looking for the Müller department store) and bought a towel. If memory serves it cost less than $5.00. And it served us well for the next couple of days.

The only thing, in my experience, that I must absolutely not forget is plug adapters: for some reason they are almost impossible to find in Europe. I’m sure there’s a place where everyone goes, and that they are easy to find, but I haven’t figured that out yet.

Otherwise, we’ve had great adventures looking for Nintendo DS chargers (we’ve done that twice, as the one we purchased on trip one was forgotten on trip two), Tylenol (“avez-vous de la Paracetamol?”), hand cream (“un chose pour enlever les main avec de l’eau?”), myriad umbrellas (Portugal, France, Thailand, Germany), and portable hard drives. In all cases, there’s often been as much or more adventure attached to the “looking around” as in the “finding.”

Here’s a bit of office life-hacking that’s been working out for me: on the office windowsill I have our newly-acquired schefflera arboricola plant sited beside our newly-acquired in-office water jug ($3.00 at Sobeys). Every morning I come into the office, pour the plant a glass of water, and then pour one for myself. Not only does the water-plant-glass proximity aid in remembering to do this, but the everpresent “plants need water to live, and so do people” message reinforces my goal of staying hydrated at the office.

I’ve been running Latitude Auto-Update on my Nokia Lumia 800 for the last month: it sends my current location to Google Latitude every 30 minutes. Here’s the last 14 days of my location on a map:

It’s rather obvious that the day-to-day path of my life is concentrated in a narrow band along Richmond Street that connects home to office, with occasional field trips to the inner suburbs.