If you do it at a park, why isn't it called 'parking'?
Have you ever been to Presqu'ile Provincial Park? Either have I. I'll let you know what it's like when I get back.
If the kids don't run me into the ground, and the wife doesn't disown me first, that is. I tend to like the whole living outdoors thing more than they do.
Just to be prudent, I'm shutting down comments until I get back - around Labour Day. Until then, try some of the blogs in my sidebar, especially The Torch.
Update: Well, much fun was had by all. Bleached seagull skulls and maggoty fish carcasses on beaches ripe with the stink of blooming algae proved quite interesting for the bairns. I got to start and finish the latest Gabaldon novel, which I will return to my mother's library smelling heavily of woodsmoke. My lovelier half met new friends, as we took over a whole section of the campground with fourteen other souls connected by a somewhat unique university experience more than a decade ago. I would heartily recommend Presqu'ile to any and all.
But now we're back. Senior kindergarten starts tomorrow for Boo. Home improvement projects await my hand. The office is spooling back up after the typically slower pace of summer. Pitter patter, let's get at 'er.