My trip to the USA earlier this month was my first trip after switching from pre-paid “Pay As You Go” service from Rogers Wireless to a regular monthly account. And where on previous trips I’d avoided using my mobile altogether, on this trip I decided to experiment and see what additional roaming charges I’d incur if I went about something approximately regular usage.

And so while I didn’t spend hours on the phone calling home, I was fairly liberal with calling friends and colleagues in the US, sending text messages, and making occasional use of data (mostly for local search and maps in Brooklyn).

Over the course of 6 days traveling, I incurred $37.52 in extra charges on top of my regular $50/month bill, as follows:

• $2.13 for adding “Call Display” to my account (pro-rated portion of the $8/month fee for this service), added so that I could see who was calling me while traveling and decide whether or not to answer the call.
• $13.32 for 9 minutes of voice calling (a rate of about $1.50/minute).
• $9.17 for using 1523KB of data.
• $4.50 for sending 6 text messages within the US.
• $1.00 for sending 2 text messages from Canada to the US.
• $4.10 for sending 14 text messages within Canada.
• $3.30 for receiving 22 text messages while in the US.

I’m not complaining about the charges – I could have mitigated some of them by pre-paying some minutes in a “roaming pack” if I’d wanted – but what irks me is that there was no way for me to monitor my roaming charges while I was on the road.

Rogers only adds these up, customer service tells me, at the “end of the billing cycle,” so I had to have faith that I wasn’t accidentally racking up hundreds of dollars worth of roaming fees; it was only a call to Rogers’ customer service that produced information about the breakdown of the charges.

Although the detailed analysis of New York neighbourhoods was mostly lost on me – I stopped reading once I came across sentences like “the average two-bedroom rental is $2,275,” something that, from here in Prince Edward Island, seems like science fiction – I quite enjoyed the introduction to New York magazine’s The Best Places to Live in NYC issue (emphasis mine):

Neighborhoods are like geologic formations, carved out by a million insignificant decisions, a million vague sensations that I’m comfortable here. They are constantly in flux, shaped by currents of migration, prosperity, and decline, by a developer’s ambition, and by the random flutterings of fashion. That’s true now, as areas that were once grim and bedraggled get refurbished. It was true a century ago, when the subway bound the farthest reaches of Brooklyn to Manhattan’s breast. And it was true when the city was hardly more than a rustic Dutch hamlet.

I like the way that paragraph captures the true nature of neighbourhoods, how they are a product of a chaotic swirl of individual actions and impressions rather than a product of deliberate planning. Planning can nudge and help to shape, but ultimately it’s a small part of how neighbourhoods come to be, and how they feel.

I went up to Canadian Tire this morning and used a backlog of Canadian Tire money to assemble a set of tools along with things like rags and penetrating oil, to help me nurse the Adana Eight Five back to life. I got things unstuck enough to actually move the works:

I’d appreciate any advice anyone has to offer on the best way to degunkify the parts of the press that are caked with a combination of dried ink, grease and dirt.  The ink disc is particularly covered in crud and I don’t want to ruin it by going at it with someone too abrasive.

A week after my letterpress workshop in New York, I’ve managed to acquire the lend of a press to get me started on my own letterpress adventures. I put the call out for help only four days ago, and the Island, incredibly interconnected as it is, responded in spades: I’ve got two offers of metal type, pointers to a couple of small presses, and offers of tours of a few printing shops both here and away.

Best of all, though, was the kind lend of an Adana Eight Five, pictured below, from my friend Joan, who salvaged it from the old Prince County Hospital before it was torn down. Along with the press there’s a good collection of type and accessories, and the press itself seems to be in fairly good shape (although it could use some new rollers, which are still available from several sources).

The last job, evident from the ink on the tympan, was an appointment card for a Summerside doctor. Seems that the last time it might have been used was in the mid-1990s (if you know more about the press, please get in touch; would be nice to know its backstory).

Next steps: get the press cleaned up and oiled, make sure all the parts are present, find the right sized key to operate the quoins, and set some type. Stay tuned.

This cheque for $56.00 arrived in the mail yesterday. As this is the season we tend to get bills for things like house insurance, I put off opening it for a while. Imagine my surprise when it was a cheque from our insurance company to us, not a bill!

“As a Mutual, when the company succeeds we all benefit. This past year was very profitable. This Special Mutual Rebate is your share of our excess profits. Enjoy!”

If you’re in the market for house insurance on Prince Edward Island, you can get the same service by switching to PEI Mutual Insurance.

I had my first meal at SeoulFood, the new Korean restaurant on University Avenue in Charlottetown. As it happened I ran into ZapVeteran Iain MacLeod there, eating with his family; as he’s my spirit guide for where to eat in Halifax, this was only appropriate.

I had the special – bulgogi, potato noodles, rice, soup, kimchi – and it was very, very tasty. Service was pleasant; decor won’t knock your socks off, but it’s clean and bright.

It’s (pleasantly) absurd that we now have two Korean restaurants in Charlottetown; please make use of them!

Kent Street in downtown Charlottetown at the intersection of University Avenue, looking east, on an undated postcard. Notice Simpsons-Sears opposite Eatons – so it wasn’t only in Toronto that there were opposite each other.

Here’s a contemporary view of roughly the same area (I couldn’t step back far enough to get the near-ground to match; I was at risk of getting run over as it was!):

As you might have expected, I’m now on the hunt for letterpress gear. Ideally I’d find myself a nice little table-top platen press, although I’d not turn down an offer of a Vandercook proof press (although I’d have to rearrange the furniture to accommodate it).

I thought I might have a line on some gear this morning when I came across Shawn MacKenzie’s classified ad on Briar Press – Shawn runs Kwik Kopy, which is a block away from the office here, so this seemed fated and magical – but, alas, their gear, from the Island Offset shop they acquired last year, is one generation too late: they have lots of Ludlow mats (sort of like metal type, but a negative rather than a positive, and used as a mold for hot metal) and a couple of larger Heidelberg Windmill presses  that are more serious than I’m looking to get into.

I didn’t come away empty-handed, though. Although the letterpress era had been largely purged from Island Offset, there were some ornaments set on top of a type case, and Shawn kindly sent me on my way with them:

And so begins my letterpress collection. If you know of any basements of attics with old letterpress gear stowed away, please drop me a line.

Given my passion for type and design and printing, why did I wait 44 years before touching a printing press for the first time? Who knows. But, man oh man, did I have a good time once I did.

If you’re within reach of Brooklyn and have an interest in letterpress printing, I highly recommend you consider a workshop at The Arm. It’s a great space, and Dan, who owns the space and runs the workshop, is am excellent teacher, hitting a sweet spot of instruction and standing back.

I’ve posted some photos of the workshop and some of the printed results; here’s my favourite:

Running late for a dinner down the road, I left the Yankee in a hurry. Ever-mindful of Catherine’s social dictates – “yes, you always need to bring a bottle of wine” – I swung into the Dublin General Store, remembering that they’ve a tiny wine room tucked in between the cash and the room with the knitting supplies.

I picked out a suitably eclectic-looking red wine – a bottle of Bully Hill Love my Goat – and grabbed a roll of Sweet Mint Lifesavers and headed to the cash.

Handed over my credit card, signed the slip.

And then.

“Did you happen to write a review of the store on the Internet?” asks the woman behind the cash – the friendly woman who’s always there.

“Um, maybe…, ” I replied.

“Well, we were searching on the Internet and we found a review, and I’m pretty sure that was your picture.”

Fortunately, it seems, I only wrote good things.

And so reviewer met reviewed. It was kind of delightful and kind of uncomfortable.

They do continue to make a very good smoked turkey wrap. And now, for an extra $1, you can get bacon on it.