Last year, I gave a talk at a conference called ConFoo. This year, I was accepted to speak twice. So at the end of February, I flew to Montreal, this time without Becky. I had a short layover in Minneapolis-St. Paul, and recognized an old friend.

FCC regulations have recently changed such that you can use Kindles for the entire flight, but I was in the middle of a really good book.

(Meanwhile, back at home…)

Montreal in February is cold. Really cold. The average temperature during my stay was 6 below zero. Fahrenheit. Nevertheless, I skipped lunch, bundled up in all of my layers, and trekked into old town.

To this place. We’re pretty big maple syrup fans at our house (the real kind, thankyouverymuch), and while we have a steady source of Grade B, they sell something here that we haven’t yet found a way to get in the states: “Amber”, or what I like to call “Grade C.”

(Meanwhile, back at home…)

My conference companion (Caitlin Cooke) and I made sure to visit this little gem. When our waiter saw our matching octocat hoodies, he took one of our stickers (we keep a supply on us at all times) and stuck it up behind the bar, where it lives to this very day.

(Meanwhile, back at home…)

The conference wrap-up party was at an awesome Moroccan restaurant with live belly dancing!

The next day, I managed to screw up setting an alarm, and missed my flight home. Here’s me with an angry smile, leaving the hotel.

Becky and the kids reorganized their time. Here they’re getting ahead on their weekly homework.

I ended up spending the entire day at the Montreal airport, and the night at O’Hare. The next morning I set three alarms, and made it to my 6am flight with time to spare.

I did eventually make it home, though my luggage didn’t arrive until two days later. The same thing happened last year; apparently I just don’t understand how customs works.