Birthday season is officially upon us, which means that lately, A. and I have been wrapping lots of gifts for friends of all ages. I've mentioned before that Anne isn't the craftiest kid, but something she's always up for is making some DIY wrapping paper to use for our presents. It might be because it's always more fun to make something for someone, it might be because it's a really free-form, unrestricted activity -- there really are no limits, no rules.

I used to buy a lot of gift-wrapping stuff, and dedicated a good amount of space in our tiny apartment to wrapping paper, gift bags, boxes, and bows, which was all pretty bad for the environment. But these days my wrapping paper stash takes up approximately 1% of what it used to. A roll of (recyclable, compostable) craft paper, some dot markers, and a couple of stamps are all we need. The results are always festive, if not professionally perfect. It feels nice to give our gifts a personal touch and to know we're not creating a lot of extra waste.

A couple of our favorite finds are the to/from stamp we bought from Etsy to use in place of tags, and rolls of colorful baker's twine to add a little pizzazz to our designs. Do you create your own wrapping paper or cards? What are some of the supplies you use?



Have a happy weekend, all! And happy birthday to all the birthday boys and girls we've celebrated with recently. :)

When I was a student at the Virginia Governor's School for the Arts, years ago, the churchyard at St. Paul's was one of my favorite places to go after rehearsal, to sit and read and go over lines and discuss all the gossip of the day with a classmate or two. Yesterday, Anouk and I took some friends -- and a picnic lunch -- to visit the mossy churchyard. A lot about the surrounding downtown Norfolk area has changed since I graduated in 1999, but St. Paul's itself is just the same as I remember it, comfortingly so.

An 18th-century church might not seem like the most exciting place for playgroup, but A. and her friends had a blast exploring. They ran up and down the brick pathways and even peeked inside the church, exclaiming over the massive pipe organ and the intricate stained-glass windows. Of course we visited the cannonball lodged in the church's south wall, a souvenir of the Battle of Great Bridge during the first days of the Revoluntionary War. (Little Zeke thought it had been fired by pirates, and was very interested to see it.) There was even a tiny playground, and the shady magnolia trees adjacent were the perfect spot to spread our picnic blankets and sit awhile.







St. Paul's is the only surviving colonial-era building in Norfolk, and unlike many of the other historical sites around the city, is still being put to its original use today. The parish at St. Paul's is vibrant and active, and as a result, the church is a bustle of activity throughout the day, people going in and out, tending the graves, and setting up for morning services. I like that -- it makes the church feel like a representation of the city itself, which has been through so much and is still standing. St. Paul's reminds me every time I visit of Norfolk's long and colorful history. The things the church has seen -- the Revolution, the Burning of Norfolk, the War of 1812, the Civil War and the Civil Rights Era! As we walked through the courtyard yesterday, I found myself wishing that those old stones could talk. Just think of all the things they'd have to say -- and I would sit right down and hang on every word.

It's been rainy off and on these past few weeks -- the type of intermittent rain that allows just enough sun in between spells to lure you outside before sending you running back in again. The kind of rain that makes you turn to Pinterest in desperation for something, anything, to make the hours go a little faster. And that's how Anouk and I discovered rain painting.

The blog we read called for us to use plain white paper for this project but we started with some paper plates because they seemed more durable. Specifically, we recommend the uncoated kind, otherwise your colors won't soak into the paper but bead up and run right off. We couldn't stand for grinding up our nice Ikea watercolors (not with Ikea being a three-hour drive away) so we dabbed tempera paint, in primary colors, on our plates instead. Anouk is just starting to learn her colors, and I thought it would be a rudimentary lesson on how some colors combine to make others. Then we put on our rain gear and headed outside.


At first, there was only a light rain, so we walked around the backyard, holding our plates, watching the falling rain spatter the paint into new designs. Soon, though, it started to rain harder, so we left the plates on the deck and watched through the windows as the designs mixed and bled together.  And then it started to really rain -- and our neat splattery, blended designs became plates of rust-colored paint soup. Not very attractive.

But after it cleared up, we went out and emptied the water from our plates to find that the colored water had left behind a patterned, vaguely tie-dyed design.



I'm not entirely sure what we're going to do with them -- maybe make a mobile out of them? Or save them for collage making? -- but I do think the end result is worth saving, a nice spot of color in our rainy day.

Happy Memorial Day! Here's to some sunny weather for the holiday weekend.

The Norfolk Greek Festival holds a special place in mine and James's hearts -- during his first visit home with me at the end of freshman year of college, I took him to Greek Fest and plied him with food in hopes of creating a positive association with my hometown (I think it worked). Since then, we've done our best to hit it up every year that we can, and last weekend, we took Anouk for the very first time.

Anouk enjoyed her first Greek Fest very much, especially the eating part of it (which, honestly, is most of it). Every single thing she ate, she loved, from dolmades to gyros to calamari. In fact, she enjoyed everything so much that we spent the rest of the weekend looking up Greek recipes we could make for her at home. Most of what we found looked pretty labor intensive but this simple recipe for Greek lemonade was so intriguing (and turned out to be so delicious) that I knew from the first sip that it was a keeper.

Lemonada

5-6 lemons
1 cup sugar (or to taste)
2 cups water (or to taste)
1 tsp orange blossom water (we got ours at Azars, in Ghent, but it's also available online)
3-4 mint sprigs

The secret that makes this lemonade taste so good seems to be in the juicing technique, which incorporates more of the oils and the rind than normal juicing procedures. Cut 5-6 large lemons into the thinnest slices possible. Place in a bowl, and pour 1/2 cup of the sugar over top. Let sit for 5 minutes, then use your hands to squish and squeeze the lemon slices. Strain the juice through a sieve into a pitcher. Repeat this process, using the rest of the lemons and sugar, until you can't get any more juice out of the lemons. (For us, 5-6 large lemons yielded about 2 cups of juice). The lemon pulp and peels should look pretty shredded by the time you're done.

Add water and additional sugar to taste (we added about 2 cups of water, but didn't add any more sugar). Add the orange blossom water to the lemonade, stir well. Crush 2-3 mint leaves, add to a glass with ice, and pour the lemonade over it. Garnish with an additional sprig of mint and some lemon slices.

This is the best lemonade I've ever had -- the orange blossom water adds a nice floral note and the mint spices everything up and makes it even more refreshing, somehow. Next time I make it, I'm toying with the idea of adding sparkling water for fizz. I also think it would be just swell with a jot of vodka in it, too. But that is an entry for another blog entirely.

Some more pictures from our Greek Fest experience:

I can't say enough good things about TowneBank Park as a place to play in Downtown Norfolk. Tucked away between Waterside and Nauticus on the Elizabeth River waterfront, the park offers pretty much everything you need to appreciate warm summer weather and while away a sunny afternoon. Being at Towne Bank Park is something akin to chilling on an enormous backyard patio. There are comfy lawn chairs and squashy couches spread out over the grass under shady beach umbrellas, and games (corn hole, badminton) and baskets of toys (hula hoops, Skip-its, frisbees) scattered in between for the more energetic kids (and honestly, adults, too).




Closer to the riverfront is a bank of fountains that serves as a very serviceable sprayground -- it's nowhere near as awesome or expansive as the one at Norfolk Botanical Garden but it's more than adequate to cool off and thus serves its purpose. The American Rover tall ships and the Spirit of Norfolk are docked in the harbor nearby, which is a big deal for boat-loving little ones, and the ferry, with its big paddlewheel, comes chugging by every half hour or so to deliver a load of passengers. There's even an outdoor cafe (open 10-2) if you find yourself in need of something to eat or drink.

The vibe of the park gets more boisterous and grown-uppish as happy hour approaches, but in the morning and early afternoon it's a sunny, quiet place to play. A. and I went after lunchtime last Wednesday with a group of friends and it was the most fun she had all week (even including a busted-up knee -- whoever's bright idea it was to set the fountains in a floor of cement obviously never had a toddler). When the kids were adequately soaked and starting to get pink and done-looking, we loaded them into strollers and wagons and wheeled them across Waterside Drive to enjoy the art and air-conditioning of the Selden Arcade (and the refreshments in the Starbucks adjacent).

Bring towels. Bring water shoes and snacks. Bring enough change for the parking meter (this is something I always forget. The diligent downtown meter maids say: you don't want to forget).

I'm guest posting today over at My Active Child! Click on over to read about our visit to see the Norfolk Botanical Garden's "Reflections of Nature" sculpted glass exhibit.

P.S.: Google Reader is closing soon -- don't forget to follow Where the Watermelons Grow on Bloglovin' instead.

Have a great weekend, all!

Anouk has been working on outgrowing her crib for a while. A few months ago, she learned to climb over the crib rail, which necessitated all sorts of baby-wrangling on our parts to keep her from falling and hurting herself, mainly involving an XL-size sleepsack, a hair elastic, and a little bit of luck. More recently, she started to show a definite preference for taking her naps in mine and James's bed. It happened so many times that finally, we gave in and ordered her a new big girl bed of her own. It was delivered over the weekend, and so we decided that Sunday night would be Anouk's last night in her crib.

I tried hard not to get teary as I tucked her into it for the last time. I have always promised myself that I won't let myself get too sentimental about Anne getting bigger. Milestones should be happy events, and I don't want to diminish her accomplishments by feeling sad about time passing. I don't want to miss the moment at hand because I'm too busy missing ones that came before.

I made myself make a mental list of all the positives about A. not sleeping in the crib anymore. It went like this:

• She will be more comfortable in the new bed (and thus maybe sleep a little longer in the mornings?) 
• We'll be able to snuggle. 
• Now we can work on potty training, which means eventually no more diapers. (Hooray!)
• I get to redecorate her room to match the big-girl comforter Anne picked out all on her own (I will NOT think about boxing up the little crib quilt I chose before she was born.)

One of my all-time favorite cookbooks is The Virginia Housewife, written in 1825 by Mary Randolph, a cousin of Thomas Jefferson's. It's considered to be the very first American cookbook, and despite a few idiosyncrasies of the time (like instructions on what to do with a leftover calf's head?), it's amazing how much of the information in the book is still useful today. One of the recipes that I come back to again and again is for flummery, a dish first brought to the New World by English colonists. First Lady Dolley Madison famously served this "delicate fruit stew" at dinner parties in the White House.

Yesterday I looked at the half-gallon of berries left over from our strawberry picking adventure last weekend, and decided that some strawberry flummery was in order. (Doesn't that just sound like a delicious dish? Flummery even rhymes with yummy...sort of).

Mary Randolph's original flummery recipe reads as follows:

One measure of jelly, one of cream, and half a one of wine; boil it fifteen minutes over a slow fire, stirring all the time; sweeten it, and add a spoonful of orange flower or rose water; cool it in a mould, turn it in a dish, and pour around it cream, seasoned in any way you like.

My modern adaptation is just a little different:

2 pints berries
1/2 cup sugar (we use honey)
2 tbsp cornstarch or arrowroot powder
3 tbsp cold water
juice from 1/2 lemon
Heavy cream or full-fat coconut milk

Combine the berries, sugar, and 1/2 cup hot water in a saucepan and set over low heat. Stir constantly, until the mixture is liquid and comes to a boil.

While this is happening, blend the cornstarch or arrowroot with the cold water. Stir this into the boiling berries. Add the lemon juice, reduce heat, and simmer for a minute or two. Remove the pan from heat and spoon the berry mixture into individual bowls. When mixture has cooled and thickened, pour a dollop of cream or coconut milk over the top of each bowl before serving.

Most flummery recipes call for it to be chilled until set and to be served cold, but we like to eat it still warmish -- that way there's a nice interplay of cold milk and warm berries. We haven't had problems with the arrowroot thickening up if left at room temperature for a little while. On a truly hot day, it would probably be more refreshing served cold. But honestly, there is no wrong way to eat flummery. It's berries, sugar, and cream. You could eat it right from the pan and be perfectly happy -- I know this from experience.

Nothing says summertime is almost here! in Virginia Beach more than strawberry picking down in Pungo. I've been dreaming about it since the cold gray days of February and so when James asked me what I wanted to do for Mother's Day, that's what I picked (get it???). On Saturday, we (finally!) got our chance and drove down to Cullipher Farms to pick to our hearts' content.

We chose Cullipher Farm for a few reasons: first, they use organic growing practices, and with strawberries heading the list of fruits with high pesticide residues, that was a big deal for us. Second, they have two locations, one at the farm stand near Pungo Village and one a few miles away, which cuts down on crowds. We chose the farther-away berry patch, and as soon as we stepped out of the car we could smell the scent of berries warming in the sun.

We picked and picked and picked. In Anne's case, I should say we ate and ate and ate. By the time we finished, her white shirt looked like it had been dunked in a vat of red dye. I know some people were looking at us and thinking, who's the crazy mom who dresses her kid in white for berry picking? To which I say, there is a method to my madness. I dunked the whole shirt in a bucket of hydrogen peroxide as soon as we got home and today, it's good as new. (That's why they crowned me the Queen of Stain Removal. It's a glamorous job, being a mom.)

All in all, we picked two gallons of berries for $22, which is a great bargain considering that a pint of organic berries can go for as much as $4 or $5 in stores. We immediately put up one batch and saved the rest to eat this week -- and boy, have we been eating them as hard as we can. Even so, I'm still not sure we'll be able to work our way through them this week, so...let the baking commence!

This has been kind of a funky strawberry season so far -- the cool weather in April meant the berries set late and with the temperatures fluctuating, it's hard to say how long the season will last. Which means: go this weekend! Click here for Cullipher Farm's hours.







^^ My little strawberry girl, all tuckered out. I feel so lucky to be her mom, on Mother's Day and every other day of the year.

Last night after dinner, we went for a walk at the Sarah Constant Beach Park in Willoughby. When I was growing up, the park had kind of a dicey reputation and was really overgrown and scrubby, and I guess that impression stuck, because the thought of writing about it for the blog didn't even cross my mind. I didn't even bring my camera, which is something I almost always do, no matter where we go. Ergo, these photos are all brought to you courtesy of Henry the Doomed iPhone (I promise that would make sense if you knew me and my iPhone habits in real life).

Anyway, the park ended up being much nicer than I remembered it and as we were walking, I decided it was definitely worth the visit. Sarah Constant Park is situated right at the base of the Ocean View Fishing Pier, and offers one of the best vistas in the area. On a clear day -- like last night -- you can see over to Hampton's Old Point Comfort and over to the Bay Bridge at the same time. At sunset, the sun passes right over Willoughby Spit, and everything is pink and purple and gorgeous.

I wish I had thought to take pictures of the park's other great features: the cool grove of wind-stunted pine-trees and twisted live oaks that houses the picnic shelter, and the Susan Constant Shrine, which marks the landing of the ship that would eventually take the first English settlers up the river to Jamestown. (Why the shrine is called Susan and the beach Sarah is a mystery left to the ages, I guess).

My piece of advice (besides to take more pictures) would be to wear shoes when you visit! The beach at Willoughby collects a lot of debris and the remains of the old wood jetties stick up out of the sand in places. Which of course you don't know until you bang your foot against one. Ow.

Happy Mothers Day to you mamas reading this! Hope you have a wonderful weekend with lots of recognition for all you do.

A. and I had a bad day earlier in the week. We don't have many, but when we do get one it tends to go sour pretty fast. It was one of those days when you haven't gotten enough sleep (me) or else the sleep you got wasn't good (her) and you keep taking off your diaper and hiding it in inconvenient places around the house (definitely not me, I swear). By lunchtime we were in need of a pick-me-up, so we called up some friends and headed down Granby to Charlie's Cafe.

Molly and I have decided that we are adopting Charlie's as Our Place. You know -- the place where you go so frequently that you get to know everybody by name and maybe, if you go there enough times over enough years, they reserve a barstool in your honor and name a sandwich after you? Everything is better at Charlie's. For instance, this is how the pancakes look at Charlie's:




And this is the kind of chocolate milk you'll get at Charlie's:





And that's not even special kid chocolate milk, mind you. It's just the way it comes! For everyone!

There are many things to love about Charlie's, including the extremely friendly staff and the ready availability of vegan and vegetarian options, which is sometimes hard to find in standard diner fare. But the best thing about Charlie's is that they serve breakfast all day, which means if you don't like how your day is going, you can have a symbolic do-over in the form of a fluffy Charlie's omelet with spicy, oniony home fries and crumbly-delicious beaten biscuits on the side. And so we did. We also ordered a restorative bag of the famous Norfolk donuts to go because nothing turns a bad day around like a bag of donuts, hot off the grill (pan? fryer? however it is that these particular donuts are cooked). They also come stuffed with ice cream but we're saving that for a cure for a really bad day -- you know, like when our house burns down or our dog runs away or something.

Little Zeke (a restaurant critic in the making) pronounced it: "Smiley Charlie's -- a place for kids!" Three years old and already on the lookout! I fully expect him to take over this blog one day when I have moved on to different things ("geriatric-friendly living in Hampton Roads"). Watch this space.