I can’t imagine not doing anything ever again

On my old blog, I once referred to camping as “Yelling At Kids in Nature(TM).”

Like the photographer, poison ivy is attractive in certain light, but mostly an irritant best avoided.
Like the photographer, poison ivy is attractive in certain light, but mostly an irritant best avoided.

Little has changed.  There’s still lots of yelling.  Mostly THEM yelling while we growl at them to be quiet, a reaction we’re cured of three days in, when we realize that our neighbours are hearing impaired and/or tolerant of loud children and/or both.

One thing that has definitely changed is my impulse to want to catalog and archive everything. This time, there were whole entire days where I didn’t take even a single photo.

Which means that rather than a week’s worth of posts that replay my vacation in near-real time, you get a bunch of random lists so short and scattered you’d think I wrote them on the inside of a dew-dampened Kleenex box.

Which I did. Enjoy.

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Toys don’t balance themselves, you know

We’ve got a situation here in our house.

It’s not one that’s unique, or even notable, really, except for the fact that it’s rapidly reaching crisis proportions and action – some kind of definitive, decisive, headline-worthy action – was called for.

The situation is that we’re drowning in toys. Duplo, Lego, puzzles, dolls, games, train sets, random feathers and half a magnetic alphabet. You get the idea.

I decided yesterday that enough was enough. I took the kids out to a $3.99 a plate* dinner and informed them that sometime in the next few weeks, new rules would be coming down that would govern the in- and outflow of toys.

I call it The Balanced Toy Act.

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Canada, the country, endures

1. I am not a fact-checker.
2. I am not a journalist.
3. I am not a writer with a column in Esquire.


Earlier today, Cpl. Nathan Cirillo, a 24-year-old reservist, was killed – gunned down while standing guard at the National War Memorial, steps away from Parliament Hill.

Cue shock. Horror. Incredulity. Tears.

Followed by reflection. Commentary. Punditry. Partisanship.

The latter was worst on Twitter. It always is.

But the pièce de résistance – the cake-taker, if you will – was this piece by Esquire’s Stephen Marche: Canada, The Idea, Is In Pieces

Let’s read it together, shall we?

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