“If you get up and have a hot shower, you’ve already had a terrific day.” I forget who said this last week, probably someone on the radio musing about the January blues and imminent come-home-to-roost post-Christmas reality. Overweight, overdrawn, overstimulated. I’d like to think I appreciate the simple things in life, but as I write I’m syncing my new iphone and am taking a break from figuring out how I can share photos via the cloud. Still, what keeps me going is the chance to sit by the wood stove again with Simon, coffee in hand, as he pokes at the embers. I live for beating back brush where there…

I’m 45 years old. After much prompting, the kids are slowly transitioning from calling me Old Man, to “Cactus” (Simon’s idea), or “Darth Father” (Jasper’s). I’ll take either. I hate getting older. The wisdom thing is great, but not so much the pain in the hip or the hair in weird places. And although I feel I have a lot more to share now (and I definitely care less about what people think about what I think), my 10PM bedtime makes blogging less possible. Even though time is passing more quickly than ever, I’m conscious that there are still many things I could be doing now that will help me…

Fun Dip now comes with two candy sticks. I discovered this on Christmas Eve when a wide-eyed kid who had already had too much sugar stumbled into me and showed me the tangy candy pouch like it had just been invented. Idiot. “That’s so 1974, dude.” I said. Then I remembered that he was born in 2006. Fuck. Then, to establish my cred: “Grape is the best flavour. This was 10 cents when I was your age, and the sticks were bigger.” (but we only got one). Now Fun Dip $1.50, and that kid had checked his texts by the time I’d finished my talk. Maybe the second stick is…