A taste of the exotic

Sheryl often sends me pictures of the treats that we loved when we lived in Taiwan. This was a favourite in the summer.

Peter writes:

Relative to 25 years ago, when we arrived here in Charlottetown, the proportion of “fries-with-that” restaurants has dramatically decreased; there was a time when that was almost all you could get if you ate out.

Certainly the selection of food in Charlottetown has improved dramatically since I left years ago, both in terms of what you can find in the grocery stores or in restaurants. When I lived here, a taste of the orient, or let’s have something “different”, meant a trip to the Canton Cafe or a package of frozen Wong Wing from Kmart foods. Now when the feeling strikes I can head to Walmart and source some Asian Pears (水梨), Bok Choi and a wide assortment of sauces and spices. The Asian Pears coming direct from China and the Bok Choi often sourced from Mexico. For some reason Walmart seems to have the best selection which forces me to visit despite my general hatred of the place.

The only complaint I have with Chinese cuisine here is that it is either loaded with sugar or that it is what I can only describe as being too clean. Old woks impart flavour in food. I talked to the owner of Mad Wok on an occasion and he confirmed the change in flavour to suit local tastes. This is common of course, which is why in Taiwan they have hideous pizza covered with corn, stinky tofu, tuna and on and on. Incidentally my kids think these flavours are great.

The problem I have is that every time I mention eating out the kids refuse to go for curry, noodles or the like (my son does like the all you can eat Chinese buffet at St. Awards, but though the owners are nice, the food is garbage), so it’s almost always a “fries-with-that” restaurant, because for them, hamburgers and fries is exotic.

Dinner at Hojo’s Japanese Cuisine

Tuna & Salmon Don

We started with Miso soup which was good, but left me wanting more.

Last Sunday evening we had a delayed birthday celebration at Hojo’s Japanese Cuisine on Kent St. in Charlottetown. I’ve been looking forward to visiting since I heard they were opening and the food didn’t disappoint.

In the past we would eat from a similar menu weekly. Of course there were differences, the restaurants in Hsinchu tend to have a larger selection overall, especially deep fried seafood or fried meats. 鮭魚丼 has long been one of my favourite dishes – I ordered Dojo’s variation called Tuna & Salmon Don, which included a generous 12 pieces of fish. It was expertly prepared. Even the rice was about the best I’ve had locally. They could give a more generous amount of wasabi but perhaps that’s a local adaptation.

The kids had Ramen, and the pork broth, though a tad salty for my taste, was extremely tasty. My daughter liked it and she’s our resident noodle expert, so I expect I will hear frequent requests to return. I heard lots of kudos from other patrons while there as well.

The wait staff was friendly and attentive but seemed some how out of place in this environment.

One point of contention is the use of cheap disposable chopsticks. First, considering that the menu prices put this in the mid to high end in Charlottetown, it seems like an odd decision. Second, bleached chopsticks have long been frought with problems both for the environment and in some cases your health. Taiwan even moved to ban all disposable utensils years ago. Reusable plastic or metal utensils would seem more fitting for the surroundings and would remove the possibility of ingesting biphenyl or hydrogen peroxide.

As is the case with most restaurants in Charlottetown, the cost was about 2-3x the price of a similar meal in Hsinchu, but unlike the “fries-with-that” places that litter the city, it’s a worthwhile treat.

Never cool

My son thinks I am a noob, or will gesture like above when given the chance. My daughter says I’m “a dad” with a certain inflection, which has positive and negative connotations I guess, and the last time we met, her English teacher told me I’m not cool. My Chinese teacher today said in our conversation that I am the strictest sounding father she has heard in some time. It’s tough.

The picture above was taken this past Saturday during a walk on the beach. It was brilliant seasonal weather.

Another medical system misstep

In the past, for the most part, if one of the kids got sick we would immediately make an appointment with of the many children’s clinics that seem almost ubiquitous in Hsinchu. If late at night, a quick visit to emergency might also be in order. The only real hesitation we had was the time and stress required to fight traffic during the long rush hour(s).

Other than determining the seriousness of their affliction, and overprescribing medication, doctors in Hsinchu provided a great point of contact for understanding what illnesses were making their way through the city. That way we could be better prepared for the progression of their symptoms, and prepare ourselves if we were also to get afflicted.

That almost reflex to see a doctor is something that I fight against here, as everything is weighed against “is it worthy of a 5-7+ hour wait in emergency”. This is a rather risky equation, as I am no nurse, and some problems are hard to diagnose.

This week Camren had severe vomiting and diarrhea. I initially didn’t take him to a walk in clinic as it seemed like a serious but common gastro intestinal virus. We all eat the same food and he didn’t have an infection. As a result he had a day of rest, kept hydrated, and managed to go to school the following day.

Last night before Jujitsu he complained of stomach pain. He characterized it as being super hungry, so I fed him a banana, and he helped himself to some bread with peanut butter. I then dropped him off at class and ran some errands nearby. But when I arrived back at his class to watch him grapple, he was sitting at the side and the teacher, or professor as he likes to be addressed, told me his stomach was too sore to work out. He hobbled out the door of his dojo, hunched over like an old man might be characterized in a cartoon, and made his way to the car. I saw cold sweat on his forehead which indicated real pain.

When we got home I checked to see if there were any clinics open Island wide. It was 6:30 and they all seemed to be closed but for the one at the Murphys Pharmacy in Stratford, which was scheduled to remain open until 7:30pm. I called the clinic to check if they were still seeing patients and was presented with a recording stating they were open until 7:30.

I packed Camren into the car to go to the clinic and told him not to get his hopes up, as experience has taught me that last minute visits to walk in clinics here are often unsuccessful – they may not be able to see more patients. Enroute I asked him to rate his pain. I said if your broken arm was a 10, how would this rate? He said an 8.

We arrived at the clinic to find that they closed early. Lovely. With no other clinics open we really only have one other choice, the emergency room.

We drove home and I gave him a cursory exam – no fever, no blood in stool, stomach not distended or hard, and he wasn’t vomiting. I used the “is it worthy of a 5-7+ hour wait in emergency” equation and decided to let him rest until morning. He agreed.

Luckily this morning he was fine. But I regret having made this decision. And I don’t appreciate having to make this decision in the first place.

Stomach pain is one of the symptoms that is usually worthy of a trip to an emergency room if other options don’t exist, and so I wasn’t overly concerned about adding stress to the system from an unwarranted visit. My concern was the real possibility that sitting in a chair all night in order to see a medical professional, might make matters worse for him, and to a lesser extent me (I’ve come down with yet another wicked chest cold).

Perhaps this limited access is the norm in most countries but it certainly adds unneeded anxiety to our lives here.

*Peter helpfully points out that there is a service that will help you decide whether your symptoms are worthy of a trip to the hospital. Just dial 811.


I’ve been complaining about the excessive noise in our building since I arrived here from my brief stay in the solitude of Clyde River, where the only noise I can imagine would be foxes rustling the leaves.

These complaints are in part due to contrast, when you go from dead silence to a neighbour out of the blue whooping and hollering, or loud socializing that can seemingly occur at any time of day or night, its far more noticeable than the constant din of big city traffic. Yes I have problem neighbours. Looking at this through a different lens, they perhaps lead a life as it should be lived. They don’t seem to work much, they love to live life with a boisterousness that we didn’t ever see in Taiwan, and they constantly socialize. We are polar opposites; we are quiet, reserved, and try to emulate the work ethic we experienced in China and Taiwan. As such there is bound to be conflict.

My wife tries to bring me a little perspective, reminding of the problems we faced in Hsinchu. So in the context of the recordings below – we truly live in paradise.

I constantly wear earplugs these days (which I resent) and I find it smooths out the rough edges. But no ear plug that I have heard of could alleviate the deafening noise that was experienced in the recordings above.

Head cold hell

I’ve been suffering from a Canada sized head cold these past few days which has kept me largely confined to the couch with Netflix as my companion. The cold itself, with the runny eyes and nose, is mostly an extreme annoyance. It’s the lack of sleep that came with it that has stopped my daily machinations.

This I think is punishment for my often “I don’t get sick” boasts.

I get reminded every once and awhile that I should bite my tongue. A number of years ago when we lived in the house in downtown Hsinchu where the electrical would frequently melt, I was the lone holdout in our family that wasn’t passed out from some virus – a virus that was so severe that I thought we would start bleeding from our pores. I swear you could almost see it moving through the house, like some kind of bad science fiction movie, as each person after another started suffering from its symptoms. I said some comment about having the strongest immune system or some such, and lo and behold I got sick, and was unconscious for 12 hours afterwards. I complained the most as well.

I’m on the mend now and should be back to normal tomorrow.

First Contact

One of the greatest points of concern when we were deciding to return to Prince Edward Island was access to quality health care. My views on this were shaped in a large part by my mothers inability to get timely care for the maladies that struck her late in life – that is until she came to the end of her struggle where she had what can only be described as world class treatment during her time in Palliative Care. There are also the stories from friends detailing the experience of sitting in pain for hours and hours at the hospital emergency room. If there was any motivation to stay healthy and fit it is this.

I’ve also set aside a small investment to use in the event that we need to seek treatment abroad – a medical tourism fund, so to speak. I can’t afford additional insurance as of yet, but that’s something we will be looking into in the future.

Any criticism/negativity I may have is not directed towards the professionals themselves but the system. The people who worked at Palliative Care were the most amazing people you would ever meet.

There have been a few instances where I might have sought a doctors advice if we were still in Hsinchu, but have thus far been lucky enough to medicate our way out of any problems, with over the counter meds. That is until now.

Camren has a minor problem that through his dogged independence has become a bit of a bigger problem. He has an ingrown nail on his toe that has become infected, which if left untreated might lead to greater problems.

Following instructions on the foot care service menu of the Water Street clinic I called to see what service might be appropriate for him. To get foot care I was told I would need a referral from our doctor. As we don’t have a doctor (and likely may never), we will be off to the walk-in clinic so they can assess where we go next. Fingers crossed they don’t suggest the emergency room or like they used to say to my mother, see you in a few months.


I used the Skip the Waiting Room online booking form to what I previously would have called registering to see the doctor. I don’t know what it is called here. I could talk at length at the problems with Skip the Waiting Room user experience, but it in the end worked, and I appreciate the efficiency of the system. It not only saved time but also would seem to be the only guaranteed method to actually see a doctor. The small fee was a bit of surprise, considering this is a socialized medical system.

The doctors visit went well – we got our 3 minute consult and were out the door with a prescription. The cost of the medicine was reasonable as well.

One parent didn’t have as smooth an experience as we had. She arrived without registering and was told that the clinic was full and was informed that there was no where else in the Charlottetown area for her to go. Visiting a doctor here requires a measure of advanced planning.

Overall my preconceptions of the medical system were today somewhat unfounded.

Mini-guns are for noobs

Camren has been talking about Fortnite since the first day of school and sold the download of the game as a way to strike up a conversation with new friends. I suggested talking about the weather, and resisted until this past Christmas when we as a group bought him an Xbox, and the necessary upgrades to Fortnite, as a gift.

But being “a pain” and the “strictest father in the world” means that before he can waste away a few hours playing video games on this non-storm storm day at home, he first had to make his bed, clean his room, do his laundry, make his breakfast, and read for an hour. Fortnite is at least a good carrot.


Camren got his first stripe last week in Gracie jiu-jitsu. Throughout elementary school Camren participated in Kendo, joining various competitions, but as time went on his interest waned. As far as I know there are no Kendo classes here, and with equipment costs approaching that of hockey I can see why, so jiu-jitsu seemed like a good option/counterpoint for him. It’s good cross training for him but ultimately it’s about building confidence in his physical and mental self.

Sitting in the dark

As I sit here sans power with just the light of the window to see, and cold coffee to drink, I have the opportunity to explain to my son for the 11th time why he can’t keep opening the refrigerator. The kids are generally mystified why there are problems with power. For the past number of years we lived in the Hsinchu Science Park where it would take an act of war to knock out essential services like electrical, water and Internet. While the rural areas on the Island would be recovering from severe typhoons or earthquakes, the Science Park would continue churning out the important bits of the tech supply chain. Nary a storm day either.

With our experience in Taiwan as context, it’s amazing to me just how fragile the infrastructure is in Prince Edward Island.

In Taiwan and in China I kept a go-bag stocked with the essentials and large water containers filled and placed throughout the house (there is always a real threat of structural failure in an earthquake). I have been slowly creating something similar here and with just how sensitive P.E.I. is to infrastructure failures and possible food shortages, I should speed up my efforts.

Not all is lost. There are a few books I’ve been meaning to read but haven’t had the time, and my son took the opportunity this morning to go and clear a neighbors walkway. So some good has come from our relegation back to the dark ages.

A possible replacement for my morning coffee

Years ago I had a project manager who recommended that I first thing in the morning go outside and walk on the grass in my bare feet. This was her advice after sharing that I was feeling lethargic and a bit down in the dumps. The January blues perhaps. I didn’t take her advice, though I will say walking on grass is mildly therapeutic, but this conversation came to me this AM as I was outside having a snow ball fight with Camren in my bare feet. There is nothing that tells your body to wake up more than putting your bare feet to snow. Exhilarating and eventually mildly painful over time. Highly recommended.

Our Sackville Diversion

Cranewood on Main

With the kids having so many days off over the weekend I thought a road trip of some sort might be in order. My first thought was a trip up West, but as I don’t recall ever travelling past Summerside I had no experience to guide us. So I relied upon Peter Rukavina’s Visit West Prince Every Five Years post to build out a 2 day 1 night itinerary. Unfortunately, almost every point on his route has disappeared or was closed for the season. I forgot how the Island tends to close down come November.

So as we often did in Taiwan, I looked into booking some time in a resort – the only one being the Mill River Resort near O’Leary. Unfortunately, questions sent to the resort via email were never answered, so I scuttled those plans for a last minute day trip to Moncton.

I’ve had on my todo list for some time, whenever en route to Halifax or Truro, to make a quick diversion to Sackville’s Cranewood on Main Bakery and Café. We haven’t been able to find the time during out last couple trips, but I made a deliberate route change on our drive to Moncton. I wasn’t disappointed. The coffee and food was fine, but the main attraction for me is the ability to sit in an interesting place, whilst soaking up the conversations of arts students intent on changing the world.

I like small college towns and after we finished our sandwiches, soup, latte, hot chocolate and cookies, we went for a quick walk around the town and campus, buying some used books as we went.

We’ll likely visit again – despite the extra bit of milage, it’s a much more interesting waypoint than the admittedly more convenient Irving Bigstop that we have been visiting in the past.

Relaxed education

We are in the midst of a long 5 day weekend for the kids and as I sit to organize my calendar for the next couple weeks I see that they have yet another 4 day weekend coming up this month. Though we consciously came here for a change in how our kids are taught, coming from the frenetic system that they grew up with, the education system here still comes across as a shock. The amount of paid PD days teachers get here would be the envy of the people I have worked with in the past.

Thus far the greatest challenge they have faced, other than English writing, is that they no longer face the overwhelming workload and pace of study that they had in Taiwan. The effect of this was that their days from early morning to night were completely prescribed. Often my daughter would start the day at 5:30am with the swim team and end it at 9:00pm with test prep classes. My son hasn’t had any homework to date and my daughter hasn’t much in High School either. Tests are few and far between.

I fear they will become complacent or bored.

The positive side to this new found freedom, is not that they can brag to their old classmates about how relaxed everything is, but that they now must be self-directed learners. There are no requirements or pressure of any kind. If they want to achieve excellence then they must do so on their own, without the goading of a teacher, or a long checklist of things that must be finished. They only have to put up with me – which is likely enough for any child to bear. If they can manage to study above and beyond the modicum that is provided here than I think they will be far better off in the long run.

What we miss

Wether it’s in a supermarket like this or one of the many corner fruit markets I miss the abundance of high quality great tasting fruit that we could find in Taiwan.

Dinner time for us is a time to catch up with the days events, a time for me to pontificate on the importance of academic performance, and an opportunity to discuss whatever topics pop into the kids heads; lately it’s been a weird mix of cannabis use, Korean pop and my sons desire to attend Rice University (my daughter wants to escape to Europe). I have been trying to ensure that, in spite our active after school schedule, we keep this routine, which means we might be eating dinner at 4, 6 or after 7. Facilitating these conversations was a role my wife played in the past and a role that I am trying to temporarily fill in her absence. Luckily the kids have lots to talk about as I’ve never been in the habit of sharing the banality of my day over food.

One of our last conversations included all the things they miss since leaving Taiwan. They listed the usual things that Taiwanese would mention: the food, the convenience of everything and of course their friends. Friendships seem a bit harder to cultivate here than in Hsinchu; Camren was incredibly active these past few years but while having made friends here, there doesn’t appear to be any shared activities yet.

One curious revelation came from this conversation. My daughter now identifies herself as from Taiwan, and yet while in Taiwan she most recently would state she’s from Canada. Of course we all knew there would be an adjustment period, you can’t expect to land in any new place and expect to be connected in the same way someone who has lived here there whole lives. I, having grown up here, still feel more like an immigrant than anything else.

During the course of the conversation they asked what I missed and I stated the expected, the fruit, the coffee and the language. I have regrets about my rapidly diminishing Chinese language ability. I didn’t mention how much I miss the work; which would be as much a surprise to them is it is to me (It was common for me to come home visibly stressed many nights).

Right now, I’m fairly certain if I returned to Taiwan or China to work at a tech company in some capacity I would regret the decision fairly quickly. At my age and experience I might not be a great fit for many organizations. But I do miss the pace, the variety and challenge of the work, being a designer, and the smart people who pushed me to keep up. It’s an exciting place with the expectation that almost anything can be done, a real emphasis on making vs marketing. And having an office full of colleagues with all the antics that often come with that can be a big bonus. Now when I come out of my cave here in Stratford, I sometimes forget how to talk.

It’s common to romanticize a memory, “in the old days” things were often better we say, but in reality the work culture in Taiwan was insane, with too many having no life outside the office. Living here is great and I’m sure the kids will adjust to ice cream over fruit, hamburgers instead of beef noodles, and enjoy the international feel that Charlottetown now provides.

Reading is a pleasure and a skill

“My grafted, spasmodic, online style, while appropriate for much of my day’s ordinary reading, had been transferred indiscriminately to all of my reading, rending my former immersion in more difficult texts less and less satisfying,” she writes. Wolf soon tried again, forcing herself to start with 20-minute intervals, and managed to recover her “former reading self.”

I’ve found that my appetite for reading as much information as quickly as possible, all of it screen based, has affected my ability to read more difficult texts as well. I consider it more a problem with patience – something that can be solved my taking a deep breathe, slowing down, and taking the time to wade through writing with more substance.

Wolf recommends that early-childhood education continue to focus on print materials, with digital devices and lessons added over time. That includes how to code — essential for learning “that sequence matters,” whether it’s in a piece of writing or a piece of software — and how to handle time and distractions. (Sign me up.) Wolf calls for teachers to be better trained to use technology effectively in classrooms. Handing out iPads does not teach children how to read well on those devices or manage time on them. That requires active guidance from adults in the classroom and at home. She also wants more (and is involved in) research on how best to support learners, including people with dyslexia, who are not served by traditional approaches to literacy. It’s one of the brightest prospects sparked by the digital leap.

Both of my kids are required to read from print materials everyday which is more of a challenge than it should be; my son is more enamoured with the sliding images under glass devices, and my daughter, who used to read multiple novels a day, but has since discovered the joy of online Chinese comics.

Book review of Reader, Come Home: The Reading Brain in a Digital World by Maryanne Wolf

Giving thanks and feigned apology

We have a lot to be thankful for. A life thus far filled with rich experiences, food to eat, a warm place to live, and healthy family and friends.

This past long weekend was spent at friends and relatives dinner tables eating wonderfully prepared food and enjoying some non-work related conversation. It was a welcome respite, especially since I have found myself recently a bit out of sorts, a combination of reverse-culture shock and the stresses of being alone in the house with two warring teenage kids.

Eating copious amounts of good food that others have prepared does wonders for your temperament.

Yesterday was my turn to prepare dinner, as I invited “the old folks” over for some turkey and the traditional fixings that they might enjoy. No one starved but I lack the patience or skill to prepare these types of meals.

Unfortunately the weekend didn’t have a happy ending. In the early afternoon, my son and I were butting heads and he decided to walk to the Stratford library, where he might use a computer without my restrictions. I knew the library was closed but thought him taking a short walk might be good for both of us. On his way home he walked by a house just when the owner of a large German Shepherd opened the door to let their dog outside. The dog charged and attacked Camren, breaking the skin, and leaving a large painful bruise (and torn pants). The owner feigned an apology and my son hobbled home.

Later we drove back to the scene, and I realized that this was the same dog that when outside on lease, would threaten me every time I ran past the same house.

I contacted the RCMP and we are going through the process that the Island provides for such instances. It’s sad, a dog like this is a threat, and I’m hoping that the dog can be properly cared for either by it’s current or future owner.


This of all the photos I have taken of Catriona these now 15 years wouldn’t rank anywhere near the most “share-worthy”. Taken inside the environment we built to house my tangible interface exhibition, the work in which she inspired by her love of making music, with all manner of objects found around our home. She, and Camren, have continued to inspire me and send us in all kinds of directions that we would never have had the joy of exploring if we hadn’t had them. She’s 15 today, and adamant to follow her own path, which is exactly as it should be.

Jordan Peterson as bedtime author

In some political circles admitting that I read from Jordan Peterson’s 12 Rules for Life for my son’s bedtime story would constitute a form of child abuse. But thats exactly what I did these past nights, delving right into how we are related to lobsters and tying in our usual talks about zombies (which seems to weave in well with Peterson’s storylines). The whole lobsters brains exploding is perfect stuff for young boys.

Though perhaps beyond the age of having a bedtime story my son always loved listening to my wife read to him in English, a great contrast to his daily use of Chinese, and wonderful mom and son time. They have continued this night time tradition despite being 13 hrs apart, but sometimes the stars don’t align, and we can’t find the time to connect via FaceTime. So I have been filling in.

I’ve seen Jordan Peterson called all manner of vile terms, often from people who prove they are unfamiliar with anything he has written beyond the occasional soundbite. Personally I’ve found him to be a skilled debater and I can find a number of things he has said or written that make particular sense to me. I’ve long hoped that someone far more intelligent than I would debunk him on facts, not ideology, but I haven’t had the privilege of witnessing it. I do find his writing a weird mixture of his interpretation of research, oversimplifications, weak attempts at humour, and conjecture as statement of fact.

I like exposing myself to all kinds of ideas (I like Jocko Willik too), especially from those who are so different from myself, or have ideas I might not readily agree. I would hope my children might do the same, and would study with an open mind the works of a wide range of thought leaders, forming their own opinions. Which is one of the reasons we head to church on Sundays, where they revel in the glow of liberal Canadian ideals, wrapped in a conservative establishment.

After I read chapter 1 of Jordan Peterson’s book, I wanted to discuss the lobsters, wrens, and the more complicated stories within, and what it all might possibly mean. But my son had already fallen asleep which might just make Jordan the best bedtime storyteller ever.

Whereby I torture my son into recording a video

We spent some time on the North Shore on Sunday and it was surprisingly pleasant. It’s a surprise as I hadn’t considered a beach visit during any time other than the summer. It’s a bit like beaches cease to exist once the cold comes – except in Thailand of course, where the beaches become more enjoyable and exist all year round.

My son’s interest in becoming a Youtube star has waned, he blames the fact that we don’t have our old iMac here, but I suspect it’s just part of his changing interests

Spelling will come in time

I think it was my son who tried to fill out “Choir” on our fridge whiteboard. The latin alphabet and their connections to phonic sounds is still taking root, but I’m certain he will be speaking and writing like a local in no time flat.

For kids, putting these events on a physical representation of a schedule, and at eye level, seems to serve as a better reminder of the weeks activities than my preferred method of putting it all in a shared Cal. I’m debating whether to teach them how to manage their time using digital or analog tools; daytimer or iCal/reminders/etc. I’m leaning to the analog.

The start of an adventure

Last week not only marked the first day of Canadian school for my kids but also the first time they have had the opportunity to ride a school bus. In the days since, all seems to have gone well, with the biggest complications being that the girls that my daughter has met “only seem to only talk about their looks”, and the fact that everyone plays Fortnight and my son doesn’t. I think we can live with challenges like that.

Band camp

Camren doing his Freddie Hubbard impression

Camren participated in band camp this past week for fun, and as a means to get a start on playing trumpet in the band program in the fall. His motivation for playing trumpet may have been in part due to my own long history with the instrument.

If the amount of students who participated is any indication, the band program is thriving on Prince Edward Island. Fantastic. The benefits of music education are apparent, and of all the places I have visited PEI would appear to have one the more successful programs. Too often music education is positioned as an extracurricular, at a high cost, forcing parents to make hard choices based on their available resources. More often than not, this results in many children missing out on this valuable experience. In Taiwan in particular, music education is expensive, and often neglected after elementary school, in favour of language or math. It’s a shame but I’m so happy that my son can take advantage of this opportunity, like I did when I was his age, while we live here on the Island.

Look at all these wonderful trumpets:

Things just got real

Last Friday early morning I took my wife Sheryl to the airport so that she could begin her long journey back to Taiwan. That marked the start of what should be a challenging, and I hope rewarding, year here on Prince Edward Island. For all practical purposes I am now an unemployed single parent of two kids.

We’ve been planning this move for years now; saving money, taking on new responsibilities, and making time for experiences that we had procrastinated on. But as my early morning inspiration Jocko Willink has said, the best laid plans don’t survive contact with the enemy, so in the end in order to make this plan a reality, one of us had to stay behind working (we made the move realizing that I likely would never work in a job in Prince Edward Island like I had in Taiwan or China). I could have gone back to China, but there are few jobs as stable as my wife’s, so she volunteered.

We have experience living apart from my year in China, but I was home frequently, just a 90 minute flight away, so this will be very different. We won’t see her but twice this coming year.

So far, other than some boredom on the kids part, something I hope will disappear when school starts, everything seems to be going fine. They are experiencing some culture shock and some communication issues, as am I. It will be a good chance for them to learn some independence, something lacking in their lives in Taiwan, and I can be assured that they will survive, if not thrive, no matter how many mistakes I make.