Yesterday I felt like jumping off a bridge (But I’m OK. Please don’t call the ROH). When I told Suzy about this she said rather matter-of-factly, “You always get sad at Christmas.” This was like being told, “You’re fat!” I kinda knew. It was hard to hear. But it’s true. For some reason, I get all weird this time of year. So there it is. Feeling Blue is powerful. It doesn’t matter how good the news is: Porchlight was about as successful as it could have been. I have new eyes. My kids are healthy. I just spent the weekend at Tremblant. In sum, I’ve got a great life. And…

Note to renters: To keep the pipes from freezing overnight, leave the taps on just a bit. It just doesn’t feel right, but water drawn from a well and drained to septic isn’t waste, just filtration. The tinkle in the catch of the drain can be annoying in the wee hours from the loft bunk. Just remember, people in the city pay big bucks for water features. Charlottetown MP Shawn Murphy’s office called me today at work. I was hoping it was about Porchlight. And fearing it was about my Hunter River micro-hydro rant (below). Turns out I’m invited to the MP’s Parliament Hill Islander Brunch this week. 21 years…

I loved the e-mail from the guy who said he was inspired to cut a Christmas tree down in Sweden because of this web site (even though it’s illegal to do so there). This reminded me of my neighbour the philosopher prof who, upon learning about Project Porchlight, advised me that if my dream of changing a bulb in every house in Canada came true, I would have to live with the unintended and inevitable consequences: “Stuart. Statistically speaking, it’s likely that someone will fall off a ladder and die. Are you prepared for this?” Checking my web stats today, I noticed that Walden was linked from a randy porn…

I met a guy named Dwight yesterday. He was using a two-by-four to pry a steel beam into place on a bridge over a 120-year-old dam in Hunter River. When he saw me coming, he threatened to get his shot gun. Guess I looked “Government.” Must be Ottawa. Turns out the bureaucrats in the Department of Fisheries and Oceans were telling him he couldn’t raise the pond (by closing the dam) until he got “fish nets.” This, after 3 years of following all the rules, of getting all the right permits. (and over 100 years of no fish nets on the Hunter River dam). Meanwhile, the -12C was threatening the…

Myrtle MacPhee makes great mustard pickles. Her husband Allan is the king of flaky pie crust. They and their four kids are awesome neighbours here in Hartsville. We couldn’t ask for better, actually. I’m so proud that Jasper has this amazing double life; Ottawa and all its urban benefits, and back-to-basics PEI. Don’t get me wrong, though, I don’t mean to dis basics. Myrtle had us over for dinner this evening. She’d prepared an all-day beef roast, cooked at 250 in a deep covered pan for 8 hours. The meat was falling off the bone delicious, and even better soaked in thick gravy. Jasper was like a vacuum cleaner. He…

The last time the Liberals chose a leader, I was in PEI. I heard Bono say “The world needs more Canada” in my car in the Zeller’s parking lot. It was an electifying moment. The Lowest Price is the Law. But I had doubts. I’m no political genius, but I felt strongly that Paul Martin would not work out. Now I’m in PEI again, listening to Michael Ignatief’s leadership speech on CBC in the cabin. Jasper is snoring in the loft. And the window here at the desk is being licked by freezing rain. Iggy’s not the guy. I love reading the Walden Guest Book. For some reason, this place…