So Politika (and I, to a lesser extent) got dissed on the 'Net – by Politika's brother, no less. It's not the first time he's done it, but there it is just the same. I just thought I'd point it out so you can all see what horrible, horrible people Politika and I are. Shame on us for trying to focus on my kids for a few brief weeks, and for not telepathically knowing when someone has called us without leaving a message.

In other news, I'm on vacation and enjoying it immensely. I haven't spent this much time with my daughters in a dog's age. Politika is not really available this week, as she's knuckling down studying for exams, so I've been reverting to single-parent mode. While it's hard, it's given me the opportunity to *really* spend time with the girls and get to know them again. Eldest speaks and interacts with me the way she used to, the way I remember her doing before all hell broke loose with the Ex this past winter.

Littlest is… well, a handful. But I still want to pick her up and squeeze the stuffing out of her (uh, in a good way, not in a psycho-abusive way or anything) on a regular basis.

Tonight we went to a local radio station's free-movies-in-the-park night – and I spent an hour-and-a-half waiting in line for the free hotdogs. Shit man, I'd rather pay for 'em than put up with that. The crew was shouting at the antsy lineup telling 'em they should be grateful for the free eats. Nice PR event, dudes – way to go.

Anyway, once in a while Littlest would run over and join me, and I'd talk to her, or just take in the sights of a small town gathering, something I used to see a lot of when I lived out on the South Shore. Some horrible karaoke singers competed for the honor of sitting in the couch that was carted onto the field and placed in front of the movie screen. Personally, I'd have given 'em the VIP seats just to keep quiet.

On the way home I made up for unkept promises (for the park people limited to us to one 'dog each and they ran out of ice cream and drinks) by swinging by La Belle Province for some more hotdogs, then giving the kids each a dollop of ice cream before bed; I know, it sounds like (and, well, is) a parenting no-no, but hey, they were *promised* ice cream for dinner all day and I had to deliver something. Believe me, it's far from a standard treat.

To summarize events of late, I took the kids swimming earlier today and yesterday, and to the zoo on Monday. I've been exhausted at the end of every day, including this one, and have not even had time to pick up a guitar. That might seem like a bad thing, but it's actually good 'cause it means I'm keeping my mind on the kids, where it should be, and I'll be able to play fresh, starting next week when I go away camping.

Oh, and the originals-band had one last emergency session a week ago and laid down the drums for the last four songs for the CD. The drummer underwent surgery yesterday – I sure as hell hope the new hip's taking to him OK, 'cause I sure don't want no Def Leppard style 3-limbed drummer drivin' our rock'n'roll rhythm! (Wow, that statement almost sounds a bit like something anticrew would say! Though I'll never approach her way with words, I feel almost honoured to have sort of emitted a phrase not totally dissimilar from some of hers… :-)

And thus ends this admittedly sardonic return to my journal. I may try and update again before I go away camping next week… Mmmm, camping...

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