Florenceville

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Early Friday morning driving north to New Brunswick’s potato country, en route stopping briefly to worship at the shrine, a.k.a. the factory, of Covered Bridge Chips, best potato chips in the world (not sure I could handle lobster flavoured chips, though), and passing

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through the longest covered bridge in the world (seems to have been a morning of superlatives) at bustling-on-a-Friday-morning Hartland, headlights on and wait because

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you don’t want to meet another vehicle half way through the bridge’s 1282 feet length and have to back up, and through immaculately ploughed and patterned fields awaiting potato

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planting, to the lovely little town of Florenceville, French Fry Capital of the World, strung out along the Saint John River, McCain Foods its heart and soul, to spend the day talking about writing, and reading passages from the books, and singing the Libby and Toby songs with Florenceville Middle School and Elementary School students, to whom I send renewed thanks for being such a welcoming, lively, interested, polite and enthusiastic audience, at the same time as I send thanks also to the teachers for their welcome and hospitality, and to McCain’s for sponsoring a fun, exciting, stimulating and memorable day. (That’s fun, exciting, stimulating and memorable for me; hope it was for the students, too.)

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