One of my important works tasks today turned on whether midnight is part of “today” or part of “tomorrow.” As you might expect, my colleagues at The Old Farmer’s Almanac have many opinions on this issue, the predominate one apparently being that midnight is neither today nor tomorrow, but some amorphous nether region betwixt the days. Here’s what the 2006 edition says about midnight, in the “Astronomical Glossary” on page 75:

Midnight: Astronomical midnight is the time when the Sun is opposite its highest point in the sky (noon). Midnight is neither A.M. nor P.M., although 12-hour digital clocks typically display midnight as 12:00 A.M. On a 24-hour time cycle, 00:00, rather than 24:00, usually indicates midnight.

The issue at hand was that the tool we use for calculating sunrise and sunset times returns midnight as 24:00, but the tool we use for converting this to the user’s local time expects midnight as 00:00. In any case, problem resolved, and you can rest easy that sunrise and sunsets will emerge correctly when the sunset happens to coincide with midnight GMT.

Oliver likes to hug people. I’m not sure why. He doesn’t get it from me (I like a good hug as much as the next guy, but latent agoraphobia has always intruded). But Oliver hugs his friends when he leaves school (something that seems to have spread like wildfire through the student body). And he hugs Catherine and he hugs me at every opportunity. And if opportunity presents itself, he’ll hug just about anyone who looks huggable.

In recent weeks this has extended to members of the transportation system working class: a few weeks ago he hugged our bus driver after a good ride down from the Farmer’s Market; last night he hugged the flight attendant after our Air Canada flight from Charlottetown to Montreal. In both cases the look on the face of the hugged made it clear that regular hugging by customers is not a commonplace occurrence. But they both seemed pleasantly surprised at the offer once the initial shock had passed.

Talking in the car on the way up from Boston to Keene, New Hampshire where we’re staying, Catherine recalled that our first trip on Air Nova (the predecessor of Air Canada Jazz, the “regional” part of Air Canada) was to New York City back in the mid-1990s. On that flight they were conducting an experiment wherein they had an on-board oven that was used to bake fresh chocolate chip cookies. The cookies were amazing. And somehow not at all like the sesame snacks cum mealy twigs that are on offer now (okay, I know, enough with the sesame stick bashing; but it’s what I do).

As we’re only here for 3 days this time around, it turns out that the cost of renting a “Pontiac Sunfire or similar” is only $10/day different from renting a fully tricked-out Volvo XC70. So we drove up from Boston with heated leather seats glowing, moon-roof open, and Hertz NeverLost GPS system guiding our every move. Although I could never justify (or afford) such a car for the once a week market runs, it sure is a nice vehicle.

I’m here in Dublin, NH until Thursday; Friday morning I wake up in Dublin, Ireland.

Before taking off on vacation this evening, I went for my customary pre-trip hair cut. I was lucky: when I went in, Fergie was sitting in the barber chair by himself reading the paper and saw me right away; ten minutes later there were 5 men waiting to see him. Here’s what happened:

I get my hair cut about three times a year (I think: I can’t remember between times, so it must be about three times, as 100 days is about the length of my short term memory). There was a lot more grey hair on the floor this time than last time.

For other hair news from Charlottetown see this post on Rob’s website. Rob falls on the Ray’s side of the Ray/Fergie barber divide, a world I’ve never experienced.

Spotted at the corner of King and Prince in downtown Charlottetown last night around sunset:

In one of my earlier incarnations I worked developing new products for The Anne of Green Gables Store here in Prince Edward Island. In amongst all the jam and doilies and porcelain dolls, my favourite “new” product was Rogers’ Chocolates.

One of my most pleasant duties while in that roles was to visit Rogers’ store and plant in Victoria, British Columbia. To be effective at my duties, of course, required considerable comparison testing (read “orgy of chocolate consumption”). Thrown together with a stop for tea up the street at Murchie’s and I had a rollicking family-run business cavalcade of food and drink under my belt.

For me, the pinnacle of the Rogers’ line is their “Carmel Nut Dark Chocolate” bar — 2 oz and 250 calories of chocolate nutty goodness. Not something to have every day, but certainly something to indulge in on occasion. While the Anne store stopped selling the Rogers’ line a while back, Bruce MacNaugton’s to-be-named restaurant cum crafts shop on Queen St. in downtown Charlottetown is now selling them. I’ve just polished one off. I won’t need dinner.

Our friends Olle and Luisa get married on Saturday, as evidenced by:

That I’ve never met Luisa (or, worse yet, that Catherine and Oliver have met neither Olle nor Luisa) doesn’t stop us from wishing them a happy day.

Another view of the new developments at Cousins Shore, Prince Edward Island:

This was taken with my Nokia N70. It seems a mobile phone can take non-fuzzy photos.

I don’t think anyone under 50 uses the term “CPU” to describe their computer, do they? I just got email from a friend who said “I just got a new CPU.” It sounded weird.

A new Robin’s Donuts has suddenly appeared on University Avenue in downtown Charlottetown:

Although nobody in the building itself seems to know (or at least willing to tell), all that renovation on the ground floor of the Atlantic Technology Centre is related to expansion by CHTN. I asked at the main desk and was told simply that it was “new office space,” but the blueprints, clearly visible through the front window, are labeled “CHTN South Studio.”

I’m now a couple of weeks in to my money saving chai trick and I’m loving it; while the original inspiration was cost-savings, I actually like straight-ahead brewed chai tea, sweetened and milked to taste, a lot better than the expensive “latte” version I’d been drinking all along. And it’s even cheaper at Timothy’s: you can walk out with a reasonable approximation of a high-fallutin “chai latte” for less than $1.50.

I thought I was going to be pulled back into world of the Tim Horton’s “Iced Capp” this season, what with the sexy new packaging and new “flavour shots.” But I had a raspberry-flavoured one, and it tasted like cough syrup, so I’ve escaped the grasp.

We’re off on our EuroTrip starting Monday, so I’m busily trying to mail off tax payments and clean up the physical realm so I can work entirely virtually. Stay tuned for updates From The Road.

For eight years now I’ve been on the board of the L.M. Montgomery Land Trust, an organization devoted to preserving the scenic north shore coastal agricultural lands between French River and Sea View, Prince Edward Island free from intensive cottage development.

In 2004 our chair Hon. Marion Reid and I were interviewed for a CBC Compass story about the work of the Land Trust; at the time, one of the iconic properties in our area of interest, Cousins Shore, had recently been partially preserved when the Land Trust was able to acquire the “development rights” to a large chunk of the property there. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to acquire the entire property, and the most “desirable” (for cottage development) lots were sold for development.

Here’s the CBC Compass story:

And here’s some video that I shot last night in exactly the same area, showing the obscene monster homes that have been developed along the shore:

These are not homes for normal people, they are giant homes built so close to the shore that many think they’ll be in the ocean within a decade. Marc Gallant, highlighted in the Compass story, was standing on the same land in 1996 where these homes have now been built when he said:

If we don’t have the courage, if we don’t have the determination to protect this province, however difficult that might be, we’re going to end up losing it. Twenty years from now they’ll be none of this left; Islanders will have no access to it, they’ll be ‘No Trespassing’ signs and we’ll have no access to our own beaches.

At this point, Marc’s prophecy has come true. There remains precious little undeveloped shoreline between French River and Sea View. If you’d like to help the Land Trust work to preserve what’s left, please visit our website and consider making a donation.

Every Saturday morning for almost a year Oliver and I have gone to the Charlottetown Farmer’s Market. And, being creatures of habit, we always take the same route through the building. Our first stop is always Kim Dormaar’s stall for smoked salmon on a bagel.

Oliver, being little, needs to be picked up to talk with Kim. After a while, as Oliver grew heavier, and the amount of snow and mud on him accumulated because of winter, it became hard to hold him up. His solution was to climb up on the stand of the potato seller at the next stall over, something I was tentative about because I had vague concerns about food safety and foot mud, and it sort of felt like trespassing.

So, most weeks, I would actively discourage Oliver from climbing up there, and reconcile myself to holding him up.

Four weeks ago, however, the friendly potato seller actually came out from behind their table and moved some bags of potatoes over so that there was space for Oliver to stand.

And last week, when Oliver was in Ontario, everyone, potato seller included, wanted to know where he was.

This is how it works here.