We are not a religious family per se, but we do say a simple non-denominational grace most days. It’s not about a religious tradition so much as it is about stopping to say “thank you” for what we have.

Another great meal made (mostly) by the youngest member of the family.

Much is said these days about the attitude of entitlement that young people seem to have. I’m not sure what I think about that. Sometimes I think it may be just curmudgeonly griping by the older generation. But I do think that life is that much better if we learn to stop from time to time and express appreciation.

Between people, saying “thank you” is a basic form of acknowledgment, like “please,” “hello” and “goodbye.” We affirm each other when we say these things. It does us all good. And there is something extra special about “thank you.”

I’m convinced we owe it to our kids to model thankfulness in whatever way works for us. I’m not sure you can “teach” someone to be grateful, but perhaps we can teach it by demonstrating gratitude ourselves.

I love the natural curiosity of children.

Two young visitors watching the animals in the Village.

My youngest son is a picky eater. I’ve tried all the tricks. I’ve insisted that he at least tries whatever is served. I’ve tried to force him to eat; I’ve tried bribes. I’ve tried building our menus around his preferences. Mostly, I guess, I have resigned myself to it.

You will never believe where this delicious meal came from.

Then one day I got the Jamie Oliver cooking app on my iPhone. It has many how-to videos and we enjoyed watching them immensely. (They’re great for long car drives, by the way). It also has recipes, and young son chimed in that he would like to make the pork chow mein. Just as I was about to tell him “this recipe is way to complicated,” I stopped myself…

We made the shopping list, bought all the ingredients and then we went through the elaborate preparation (“20-minute meals” my foot!) Sure, we got some parts wrong, but we ended up with something that looked pretty good (see photo). And guess who ate every last scrap on his plate!

It’s lovely to see how the simplest things can become a game.

Balancing an egg on a spoon. It makes for a great race!

We’re getting ever closer to the ideal. When I was child, we had family friends who had all their camping gear assembled and organized on shelves right next to their car port. All they had to do was select the gear and they could be packed and on the road inside of 30 minutes. Now that’s what I call the ideal!

It took me a good part of two days to go through the gear and make sure everything we needed was there. I’m sure we’ll be missing something, but if I did my job right, it will be something minor.

The truth is, forgetting something tends to make the whole event more of an adventure anyway.

We’re going camping next week, nothing special or complicated, just car camping at Sandbanks – cooking outdoors, walks in the dunes, days at the beach, roasting marshmallows over the fire. Last year, we had a great trip to Tobermory. This will be the continuation of that experience.

My sister and her family and a few of my brood make their way along the shore on the beautiful Bruce Peninsula.

The beauty of camping for me is that is seems to appeal across the generations. Adults and children enjoy the adventure of the outdoors. And believe me, my youngest can be hard to please at times, but once we get out there, he responds, and my little stick in the mud becomes a great travel companion.

The youngest Philpott reading Harry Potter in the great outdoors.

In March I went to cabane a sucre in Quebec, which is the traditional maple syrup festival there. It was a great experience (and, yes, I do intend to bring the kids next time!). There were rides in a wagon drawn by two great big Belgiums called Prince and Aline – although you’d have to pronounce their names with a rural Quebec accent to get the full effect. When I looked at the big wagon, I felt sorry for the horses having to pull it, but when I was in the wagon I realized it weighed nothing for these gentle giants. “Doucement, Prince, Aline” I heard the driver talking to the horses and I marvelled at the connection between the man and the animals.

The wagon is a big draw for visitors to Black Creek Pioneer Village (sorry - couldn't resist the pun)

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Yes, I nag. I know it’s useless, and it rarely gets me anywhere with my kids, but I still sometimes catch myself doing it. Last weekend, the boys did not do their clean-up chores, which they normally do pretty well. I got home from my errands and there they were on the XBox, the living room looking like a landscape in the game they were playing. So I nagged. I got righteous (you know, about all the things I do for them … blah, blah, blah) and from there it’s only a hop skip and a jump to obnoxious. I even found myself obnoxious. Read more…

Yesterday all of my children and I went all out for the World Cup final. Being half Dutch (“the good half” I always tell people) I have always cheered for Holland at the World Cup. And always had my hopes dashed along with all the other good-natured Dutch fans. The love of Holland has clearly carried over strongly to my children.

Four of my five kids, all in orange.

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Today there is a special picnic for members on the Village’s North Property. The area is only rarely open to the public so this is a special treat. The North Property is where Black Creek Pioneer Village began in 1957 as the “Dalziel Pioneer Park Museum.” Last year the famous Dalziel Barn celebrated its 200th anniversary.

200th anniversary celebrations for the Dalziel Barn.

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