I grew up in Ontario eating three meals a day: breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Catherine also grew up in Ontario eating three meals a day, but hers were breakfast, dinner and supper. In Catherine’s world a lunch was something you had after a Junior Farmers dance or a funeral.

Here on Prince Edward Island the midday meal is know by both lunch and dinner; here in town, at least, “let’s grab lunch” will be commonly understood to mean “let us share a midday meal together,” and not “let us get together after a funeral.”

But as you radiate out from town, “will you be home for dinner” is more likely to mean “will you be home at noon” and not “will you be home at 6.”

The Queen Elizabeth Hospital menu for patients comes down solidly on the side of dinner for the midday meal. Catherine had some minor surgery this week, and this is the menu left in her room for her to make choices from yesterday morning:

I have never, in all my 51 years, spent an overnight in a hospital, and so I’ve never, in all my 51 years, been subject to hospital meals. Being as close to a vegetarian as one can be without formally declaring, I’m daunted by the prospect of having to do so in the future: as you can see from the choices offered to Catherine yesterday, vegetarian-friendly options aren’t on offer on the default menu (I assume that, if special arrangements were made in advance, this could be worked around; at least I hope so).