Today I dropped by the Vrtucar office on MacLaren Street. It’s where I landed with Suzanne Boileau after my spectacular fall from my Director of Writing job at gordongroup last spring. I say “fall” because I’d quit that job to run Porchlight and then Porchlight fell apart. We’d already hired Suzanne as Operations Manager for the campaign (which was suddenly cancelled) so we kept her on to help put the plan back together. Don’t let anyone tell you that Humpty can’t be reassembled. We worked for the summer together in a 10′ x 10′ room. I found a 1999 Dell laptop used on-line and Suzanne brought her own computer. She…

I’ll be 39 this year. It’s no big deal, really. Get over turning 30, Dan, ya pup. This age affords two key advantages: I can still learn, and I’m willing to admit when I’m wrong. For instance: It was only today, in Loblaws, that I realized that mincemeat has no meat in it. All those years at Grammie’s Boxing Day Christmas party I thought ground beef was going bad on the table all day while my uncles picked at guitars and mandolins. The music wasn’t great, but I should have noticed: Nobody died. I used to really hate that annual Christmas party. This year I really missed it. Quitting’s great.…

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…

The Minister described me as a “conservation leader in Ontario” in his speech, and then turned in his seat and gestured toward me in the Member Gallery. Most MPPs clapped, if flatly, even Howard Hampton. It was kind of neat to be recognized on the floor of the legislature, and I guess I shoulda stood up. Would have been more memorable to blow kisses. Project Porchlight has arrived. Now I’m going to PEI to escape.

I’m going to the cabin on Friday. Between now and then I have to be in Toronto again. Third time in as many weeks. Thank God for Porter. I’m not much of a big city person, largely because I suffer from caring too much about what people think of me, AND am too cheap to spend good money on fancy clothes. I just sank $1100 into pipe insulation and skirting for the cabin so I could sink into an old claw foot tub on a snowcovered rehabilitated clearcut in PEI. Now that’s money well spent. And I don’t expect the downtown people to understand. The cabin is my rock. When…

My prune yogurt expires December 24. Christmas Spirit!

Anytime I go AWOL from Walden it’s a bad sign. This was pointed out to me by a friend; it’s something I should recognize about myself by now. Some facts: To be happy, I need to write. And I need to spend time in the woods. Writing. In just over a week, Jasper and I head east to spend a glorious week by the woodstove in the cabin. Our neighbour friends and their four kids are going to cut their Christmas tree from our land, and we’ll decorate it together. Tonight I’m going to call my 95-year old Gram to set up an early Christmas dinner with her. I’m leaving…

Two images of mid-November 2006: A single file line of shopping carts in Vancouver. A single attendant: “Please, one case of water per person. Thank you.” In Ohio, three sent to hospital after being trampled in a mad melee for limited release PS3.

OK, I’ll stop talking about it after tonight. Four days after my eye surgery, the opthalmologist pushes back on her rolly stool from her little specs thing shining into my shiny new eyes and says, “Scary.” “You just read the line we call ‘Impossible.'” Last week I couldn’t see the alarm clock without glasses. This week I have “25% better than normal human vision.” Borderline bionic! Not since I discovered Thoreau have I found an author that I think could influence my future career so much. And Thomas Homer-Dixon is alive. What grabbed me is this “A central characteristic of societies that successfully adapt is their ability to produce and…