This Week's Books

I Know a Lot of Things by Ann and Paul Rand
A quirky read with surrealistic illustrations by "one of the most influential and groundbreaking American graphic designers of the twentieth century" as the book jacket reads. I find some of the phrasing hard to wrap my tongue around simply because it's written not as I would say it, but this is part of the reason we read books, to have our thoughts put into others' words often more eloquently than we ourselves could put them. Overall the book is terribly enjoyable. The text speaks with a childlike imprecision that both adults and children find amusing: "I know I can dig a hole this big", "A book needs pages and a cake takes ages to bake", and "the moon is a light for the night". Though originally published in 1956, the bold, graphic illustrations feel quite contemporary despite, or perhaps due to, their capital "m" Modern aesthetic.

Only You by Robin Cruise Illustrated by Margaret Chodos-Irvine
Obviously written by a parent, this story follows three different child/parent pairs at different times of day. It is all about the priceless, tender moments that occur throughout the day when you live with a toddler. The narrator acknowledges how one can love actions ("I love each hop, each spin, each shout... I love your voice, the words you say - the songs you sing throughout the day" ) as well as the more predictable features of a child ("I love your knees, your toes, your feet. I love your skin - so soft, so sweet"). I enjoy how the words could be my words as I read them to my son as the examples are specific and the sentiments  universal.
The illustrations mimic the narrative perspective, zooming in from the view of another watching the pair walk down through the park or cuddle at bedtime to the parent's macro view of the child as they interact over the course of a day. Chodos-Irvine skillfully combines striking shapes, loud colors, subtle patterns, and over-sized images, (the full-page illustrations spill right off the page; see right-hand image). This is a book that I could read at every bedtime.

Date Night

Jessica Bromley Bartram's budgie

I feel like my sister's childhood pet budgie, Bert, who used to escape his cage every now and then and go for joy-flights around the house until he was cajoled into returning to his perch and accepting his lot in life. I just got home from my first movie theatre date with my husband in two years.

If you haven't been reading my blog, then the choice of film (The Adventures of Tintin) will seem particularly confusing, but I assure you, it was thoroughly enjoyable for both of us. As mentioned before on this blog, my husband won me over by reading Tintin aloud to me on picnics in the park back when we were first living together. Back when that post was written I lamented the lack of a Tintin movie, and now I am happy to report that I loved Spielberg and Jackson's rendition; in my opinion they can lay claim to possibly the best opening credits ever.

Sure, the popcorn and the hand holding were nice, being downtown (and at night to boot) was exciting, and the movie itself was a humourous, tumultuous roller coaster ride, (at one point I remarked that I didn't care if both kids were awake and crying and being complete pains for Grandma - it was worth it), but honestly, it was the reassurance that I can indeed go out and everything will be (more or less) fine. I didn't miss the boys much, Grandma only had to put up with 15 minutes of baby tears, and I got a moonlit kiss (and what a moon it was tonight)!

Thursday's moon. Photo credit: Perry 

The most uncomfortable part of the whole ordeal? Stepping into an elevator with two other couples after the movie and being the only one who couldn't/didn't/wouldn't whip out my iphone within two seconds of the doors closing. I know they were  just checking their messages, the score of the Canucks' game, texting their babysitter, checking the weather, reviewing the movie on their blog, looking up the fastest route home - whatever, I don't care. But boy, did I feel a decade behind the times.

Fortunately, coming home to a crying baby put it all back in perspective. My night out ended slightly better than poor budgie Bert's last flight which ended when he flew into a wall. I was glad to be back home, in my cage, despite the baby tears; I know what matters and it isn't your newest app.

The Joy of Books

A team of bookish types in Toronto decided to shelve and reshelve books all night long and this is the result. Custom music by Grayson Matthews.

Smitten with "Sunshine"

Sunshine by Jan Ormerod

This book was written the year I was born and maybe that is why I find these illustrations so charming; they remind me of other narratives and images from my childhood. And, while the story is rather timeless, the unavoidable Eighties-ness of it is pure nostalgia for me even though I've only just discovered it.

Rise and shine

It's likely the spot-on quiet humour that endears this book to me.

Dad burning toast

Or perhaps it's the decided lack of sunshine in these wintry Vancouver days that makes this title and the warmth of it's plot so appealing.

A fine balance

Or maybe it's the apt portrayal of my current cozy reality that hits the mark.

Been there

It must be the precisely sweet embodiment of a child's routine motions and expressions that captivate me.

Page one of a two-page sequence

Indeed, this wordless story is poetic. The particular moments Ormerod has chosen to depict couldn't be more pertinent. There are no words and yet nothing is missing. There are dozens of images in her sequential segments and yet nothing is superfluous. I've said it before and I'll say it again, good editing makes any endeavor a work of art.

Whatever it is, I am smitten with "Sunshine" and currently looking for the companion book "Moonlight".

Beware the Beige

Lovin' the linen

It all started with the natural linen duvet cover. I was young and impressionable and in search of a calming element in our eclectic, eccentric east side abode. It cost too much but we were DINKs (double income, no kids) flying by the seat of our pants, flitting here and there: New York City one month, Galiano Island the next, and Okanagan wine country after that. All it took was a Long Beach sunset and the aforementioned duvet cover and the next thing I knew we were married and three months later, pregnant.

But it doesn't stop there. Oh no. Due to our expanding family and sense of adult achievement we went and moved into our current house: the clean slate we'd been searching for. The kitchen and bathroom floors are neutral ceramic tile, tub and sink and toilet are in a matching shade of cool eggshell, the walls are painted a uniform cafe au lait, the french doors are a breezy white, the silk living room drapes are champagne, and I have my first modern kitchen complete with stainless steel appliances and a travertine back splash.

Benjamin Moore electric blue

I now find myself somewhat surprisingly entrenched in a beige phase. I've been averse to wearing all black for as long as I can remember and I've always been a fan of bold graphics (the first blog I ever followed was the eye-popping print and pattern). In my single days I painted a bedroom with hearty "red desire" and within a year met my now-husband. In our common law days, I painted a room (and I've only ever admitted this to a select few) "Sex and the City" blue. Yes, I researched the exact color and brand that they used on the set of the movie, painted our living room and hung artwork in a similar format.

Indian block prints: color full.

Since moving into this beige house I haven't seen hide nor hair of my color-loving self; our two previous duvet covers (Indian block printed no less) have been retired and even my one-time favorite artwork (a Balinese dot painting) hangs in a dimly lit nook while a sepia toned black and white print takes centre stage on the dining room wall. 

I've made an effort to infuse color into my bland decor. I went looking for bold patterned curtains and came home with a print (!) on a beige background. We bought a sectional couch to fill up our big living room and the one that fit our layout was - beige. We got dining room chairs and those that were the right size and style for our table had beige upholstered seats. 

Fortunately we still have most of our old mismatched furniture and we do have kids (and their clutter) to liven the place up. The older one, nearly two, is, as Picasso once found himself, in his blue period. My only hope is that his blue period doesn't get all over my beige phase.

I'm beginning to think that beige may be the exact color I need in my hectic, messy life. It is a darn good backdrop for splashes of color (intentional and otherwise and two year old temper tantrums often result in the latter). Have you seen my blog layout?

Not all bad comes from being understated. Under this beige roof we've had our second child and will continue to raise our loud little family. So I will beware the complacency of a staid and comfortable (read: beige) existence while trying try to enjoy the simplicity of my staid and comfortable existence.

The Quaint Things in Life

Photo credit: Keith Bloomfield

To my mind this very well may be the quaintest my life has ever been. Quaint, in the oddly picturesque or old-fashioned charm sort of way. I am indeed living small. I've had my days living large (and hope to one day do so again), but for now small is all I need (if not all I want). On these rainy days a single trip to the grocery store, the library, or just the front yard seems the highlight, an event to get dressed for each morning. My day is notched by meals and snacks, diaper changes and naps, hallway hockey and sofa bed snuggles. And it feels alright for this is how I remember my early childhood to be; predictable in all the right places. This allowed me, and in turn, allows my kids, to focus on the little things in their little lives, making mere chestnuts mighty in their minds.

This is a poem about my quaint beginnings based on memories and family lore.

Boulder Creek

rocking chair

record player

woodstove

typewriter

garden hose

swing set

sandbox

playhouse

black bears

apple orchard

waterfall

birch trees

ice skates

snowmobile

woodshed

toboggan hill

homemade

make believe

go fish

popcorn

pigtails

onion soup

bunk beds

gumboots

sundeck

clothesline

broken leg

nap time

tricycle

birthday

Radio Flyer

driveway

gooseberries

greenhouse

paper dolls

pencil crayons

barn house

plywood

staircase

childhood

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas: a Retrospective How-To

There is the "kick-start the holidays" Christmas party, the Hanukkah party, the solstice party, the apres-ski  party, the gift exchange with friends, the work Christmas party, the school or church pageant, the neighborhood party, the gift exchange with extended family, the Christmas Eve dinner, the Christmas day brunch and the ensuing feast, the Boxing Day dinner, the leftovers meal, the holiday card night with friends, and the New Year's Party - Did I forget any?

Oh yes, the online Skype party with distant loved ones! Nuts. That one was hard to remember as I didn't turn on my computer much over the big weekend this year. Hopefully an interim weeknight call will make up for it!

From someone who successfully attended or hosted many of these events, my advice would be do them all (unless you're under the weather then by all means stay home with your germs and a good book)! To keep the stress levels low and the multiple gatherings enjoyable don't make, wear, or bring something different to each one. In November and early December bake a few batches of cookies and store them in your freezer. Around this time make a list of all the people you'd like to give a little something to over the holidays - my preference is to give everyone a little something rather than half the people a big something. Make a few homemade gifts (see below) and bring these along as needed. Budget for a couple extra bottles of something at the liquor store this month to keep you in the spirit of things and stock your pantry with bulk nuts (salted and candied or in the shell), oranges and pomegranates and cranberries and decent chocolate. These items can be prettied up for a last minute gifties or placed in nice bowls and set out for unexpected guests. Collect a few pinecones and cedar boughs and light some candles; now you're set for the season.

As for shopping, I love the idea of picking up items throughout the year when you see just the right thing for someone you love, but I never actually do this. While I hope to one day shop with that much foresight, I tend to purchase most of my gifts at the same store. One year it's a bookstore, the next an outdoors store, the year after that a specialty foods store and so forth or try getting everything online from Etsy or give yourself one day at a local craft fair; there are some really fantastic shopping events out there these days. Shows like the Shiny Fuzzy Muddy show here in Vancouver or The One of a Kind Show in Vancouver, Toronto, and Chicago.

Here are a few of my favorite gift-worthy recipes from Christmas 2011:

Candied Orange Peel

 I dipped mine in chocolate and filled mini take out boxes lined with pretty scrap paper to garner oohs and ahhs.

8 oranges, 10 lemons, 6 grapefruits or any combination

3 cups sugar plus more for rolling

3 cups water

3 cups semi sweet dark chocolate chips

1. Cut the ends off the fruit and standing on one end, follow the curve of the fruit and cut away only the outermost peel leaving most of the white pith on the fruit. Slice lengthwise into 1/4 inch strips. 
2. In a medium pot of boiling water, 10-20 minutes (longer for lemons and grapefruits). With a slotted spoon transfer peel to dry surface and pat dry with paper towel.
3. In a medium saucepan, bring sugar and water to a boil, stirring to dissolve sugar. Add peel and simmer until it turns translucent and syrup thickens, 10 minutes. With slotted spoon transfer peel to wire rack set in a baking sheet to catch the drips, separating the pieces as needed.
4. Let peel dry 1 hour. Toss with cup sugar to coat.
5. Return to wire rack to dry. Place in a warm (not hot) oven to dry if you find the strips do not dry as quickly as you would like.
6. Working in batches, melt chocolate in a double boiler and dip ends of strips in the chocolate and lay on rack or brown paper to harden.
7. Package in boxes with wax paper, decorative paper, and ribbon or enjoy at home with loved ones!

Snickerdoodles

These freeze really well. Be sure not to over bake them! 

2 3/4 cup flour
1/2 tsp salt
2 tsp baking powder

1 cup butter

1 1/2 cups white sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla

1. Preheat oven to 400 f.
2. In a medium bowl mix together the flour, salt, and baking powder. 
3. In a large bowl cream together the remaining ingredients. 
4. Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture and beat until dough is smooth. If soft, refrigerate until firm, about 2 hours. 
5. In a large shallow bowl mix together 1/3 cup white sugar and 2 tsp cinnamon  
6. Shape dough into 1 inch balls and roll in sugar/cinnamon mixture. Place on cookie sheets and press down each ball using the bottom of a glass to flatten to about 1/2 inch thick.  
7. Bake 8 minutes or until firm around the edges.

And finally, make the pumpkin butter recipe I posted about back in November. 

Now, on to the new year!

What I'm Gifting

Lu Prints napkins and placemats

Paper bird game by French company Djeco

Upcycled guitar string necklace from  Blue Bird Sky in Brooklyn via Etsy

Homemade seasoning salt

Reusable bathtub stickers

Homemade pumpkin butter

Bingo for tots

Homemade candied orange peel au chocolat

Kids' card game

This is My 'Hood

We moved to our neighborhood in central Vancouver, BC over a year ago. It is a rather unassuming neighborhood; it is very near the centre of the city and yet we'd never heard of it (and my husband has lived here most of his life and in houses all over the city). It is an understated, modest family area with parks and schools and a truly diverse population. In a city where people tend to have a lot or nothing at all, most folks in our neighborhood have a little of everything. There are many first generation Canadians rubbing shoulders with a surprising number of people who've never left, that is, they've grown up, raised families, and are growing old here.

Our playgrounds could use an update and our shopping area is yet to be gentrified but I can walk to almost everything I need: multiple libraries and community centres, big parks, trendy shopping and cafes, and even a mall. We're not so far south that we can't see the North Shore mountains but we're not so close to downtown that we live in a shoebox. We have a yard and garden with raspberries, rhubarb, apple trees, and a clothes line. While we rent, our neighbours on one side have lived in their house for nearly 50 years.

One fascinating online project is bridging the gap between ethnicities, generations, and neighbours in my 'hood. Inside Stories is a combined effort from filmmaker Nettie Wild, web designer Jeremy Mendes, and photographer Shannon Mendes. Here is one of the stories featured on the attractive and interactive site, southhillcommunity.ca.

This Week's Books

Have You Ever Seen a Smack of Jellyfish? by Sarah Asper-Smith
Other than the surprising and vivid illustrations of this book, I marveled at how genuinely apropos many names are for their respective animal groups. How about a knot of frogs? I have seen one and it is indeed rather knotty. And a crash of rhinos? Well, I imagine that is the noise a group of them would make when plundering scrubby savannah bushes. Or the books namesake, a smack of jellyfish? Well, only one as lucky as myself would know the distinct splat of a small, harmless jellyfish propelled by a random beach brat hitting a bare back and I can tell you, a smack is a suitable word for more than one. I suppose I need not point out just how befitting it is that owls constitute a parliament and zebras a zeal? Yes, a zeal. Not only are the illustrations eye-catching, they are art. You can purchase baby clothes, cards, and other appealing items printed with the artwork on the author's Etsy site.

In the Tall, Tall Grass by Denise Fleming
Another book with big color and a fun theme, "In the Tall, Tall Grass" also portrays a small point of view in a big format. The perspective, that of a  caterpillar traveling through a field, is fun because the critters that look so small to us aren't so small to a caterpillar. My son loves this one; he can read it over and over, finding the caterpillar on each page or pointing out and counting the other creatures. The companion book "In the Small, Small Pond", a Caldecott Honor Book with a frog as the protagonist, is equally as appealing. Fleming's artwork, achieved by pouring colored paper pulp through hand-cut stencils, is splashy and bold and entirely her own. Once I read one of her books I started seeing them everywhere, recognizing them by the art and not the name on the cover.

My Slushy, Gravelly, Grey Hometown

Winter in my hometown is great, well, winter in the mountains is great. In town, it's grey; the trees, sky, streets and snow are all grey and it's only at altitude that you can break through to blue sky some winter days. Sure, the first snowfall always elicits a certain electric anticipation and Christmas is nice, but the highlights of my adolescent winters, if I wasn't skiing at the local hill, consisted checking out neighbors' Christmas lights, cross country skiing on the old railway tracks, reading a good book, and sledding down the steep unplowed Uphill alleys.

This segment from Whistler's Sherpas Cinema proves me wrong; apparently winter is grey and great in my hometown and it's nice to see some familiar alleyways too.

An Afternoon In

There was a lovely sunset today in my neck of the woods - at 4:15pm! In the slim hour between nap time and nightfall I couldn't get the momentum to bundle up the kids and get outside despite my resolution to always get out twice a day if it isn't pouring rain. And so we played indoors this afternoon - thank goodness for books, blanket forts, and play dough!

I made our play dough based on this recipe and it turned out great. I think the cream of tartar gives it a really smooth consistency. I didn't add any color to mine but I did add cinnamon to one batch and lavender oil to the other and I highly recommend doing so; it makes it more enticing for me to play with it too!


Play Dough Recipe:
1 cup white flour
1/2 cup salt
2 tablespoon cream of tartar
1 tablespoon oil
1 cup water
food coloring, optional

Mix first 4 ingredients in a pot. Add water and mix well. Cook over medium heat for 3 minutes, stirring constantly. Dough will become difficult to stir.
Remove from stove and knead for 5 minutes. If using food coloring add during the kneading process. Store in a covered container in the fridge.

This Week's Books

I go to the library twice a week and though my local branch is miniscule it is a warm, dry haven on wintry west coast days when the kids and I get cabin fever and we're fed up with being only family at the park. Each week I take out a dozen or so kids books to keep our reading options fresh. My older son (not yet two years old) and I both look forward to the the little discoveries and laughs we will share in the unfamiliar  pages. He enjoys putting last week's books (and occasionally his library card) in the book return slot and the newly chosen books up onto the counter for the librarian to check out for us, then he helps me load the stroller with our book bounty. For him the other highlight of these visits is the big red button that opens the automatic doors.

While I really enjoy the treasure hunt that is our weekly trip to the library, I've also loved sharing my old books with my kids. Here are two standbys from the early 1980s that happen to both be by Eloise Wilkin. I've got each of them committed to memory (they were already half complete in my head from my childhood) so that I can recite them in those rare instances that we - Heaven forbid - find ourselves without a book!

"And then we say goodnight."

My Goodnight Book by Eloise Wilkin
This shaped board book is brief but I can remember some of what I felt when I viewed these pages as a child. I recall identifying with the little girl, liking the look of the mother in the story and thinking she was sure of herself and gentle, and I was excited by the candy bowl on the table next to the armchair where the father and daughter read their bedtime story. Most of all I found (and still find) that the nighttime view out the girl's bedroom window on the last page of the book (see image) made me feel like all is right with the world. The pastoral setting and the summer evening breeze evokes a sense of security and contentedness that relaxes me still each time I read the book.

"A guppy is a little fish."

The Little Book by Eloise Wilkin
The cover of this book pictures a little girl reading "The Little Book" which has a picture of the same little girl reading "The Little Book" which has a picture of... This was my first example of recursion and I remember being fascinated by the infinity of it all. The text of the book is considerably less existential but just about as sweet as Wilklin's illustrations, epitomizing her cute aesthetic: "A chuckle is a little laugh. A little cow is a calf. A quarrel is a tiff. A little sniffle is a sniff." It's hard to beat the simplicity of a list of rhyming words and informative truths.

This Year's Xmas Cards

I've been keeping busy in the brief evenings between putting kids to bed, cleaning up from dinner, and watching episodes of Boardwalk Empire by making Christmas cards out of my favorite material: old Christmas cards! You may recognize a snippet from a card you once sent me (it's a compliment really that I kept your card for such purposes) or see the card you're about to receive from me this year!

Birds and houses

Trees

All I Want for Christmas...

For the boys:

A bath toy hammock or bag

Any art supplies from Clementine Art

Or any other toddler-appropriate art supplies

Push cart for baby

And as always, books, books, and more books are welcome gifts

For Mama:

Set of stacking cake plates or a frilly 3-tiered dessert tray

Stainless steel lemon juicer

 1 quart sauce pan

Natural soap - I like to stockpile

Gift cards for any of the following:

My favorite store

My hair salon

My local fitness studio

Pumpkin Seeds Galore and More

Okay, so it's a little late; Halloween was over two weeks ago but it just now occurred to me to share the story of our jack-o-lanterns (or "punkies" as my one and a half year old enthusiastically calls them). I walked down an alley the other day as I am wont to do (see posts Sept 5/10 and Nov 7/11), and I saw a garbage can; the lid was ajar and I could see a somewhat soft orange orb seated atop a bulging garbage bag. In another alley on another day I saw two pumpkins that had been placed in the overgrown grass next to a garage at the alley's edge, now slowly leaning into the landscape. These sights saddened me not because our city has bins for yard trimmings and compostables but because pumpkins are so delicious.

Gramps and Oaks at the bird sanctuary.

For me, the pumpkin is an integral part of Halloween. Back in my single days I had pumpkin carving parties even though I never lived anywhere that got trick-or-treaters; it was all about the resultant festive lanterns, roasting the pips, and drinking mulled wine. This September we took the kids and one set of grandparents on what is becoming my new pre-Halloween tradition, an annual visit to a nearby island bird sanctuary and pumpkin patch. We picked our pumpkins with care, checking out the full array before making our selection. At home, we placed them on our front porch as a seasonal display until they met their demise on the afternoon of the 31st.

Both my husband and I were naively looking forward to carving  pumpkins with our little guys looking on. The reality was somewhat less than ideal. The toddler had no interest in helping to scoop out the cold innards of the pumpkin and both kids commenced crying while we wrestled the gourds and wielded knives. I managed to get the seeds in the oven with a bit of salt and Old Bay (though they're equally as good with a little cinnamon and sugar). Pumpkin pips are also known as pepitas in Mexican Spanish or passatempo in Greek literally meaning "pastime" which I love.

This year I carved mine like this.

After the festivities of the big night I was left with these two gorgeous, homegrown, handpicked pumpkins that I couldn't just compost so I have been cooking, freezing, and baking up a glorious orange-colored storm. (I should note that I made a point to use soy candles with lead-free wicks inside our jack-o-lanterns as I knew we'd be ingesting them.) Last year, finding myself in a similar situation, that is, with masses of pureed pumpkin on hand, I discovered what has become a household standby, Squashy Mac n' Cheese (adapted from this recipe, it's essentially pasta in a chicken stock and squash sauce sprinkled with breadcrumbs and cheese and baked). As I had a teething seven month old last Halloween I also froze chunks of pumpkin skin for him to gum. This year my discoveries include pumpkin hummus, pumpkin ginger scones, and highly recommended pumpkin butter. And so I can happily report that my pumpkins did not end up in a landfill but were an essential part of filling up my family with a little compost leftover.

This Week's Books

A Winter Day by Douglas Florian
One boy is almost asleep and the other is almost awake; this is the time I should be napping myself but I'm just so warm and fuzzy from the book I just read before naptime. "A Winter Day" is one of those simple and nostalgic type of books that get me thinking about writing kids literature. The only thing is, I'm no artist and so many books are written and illustrated by one person, especially books with so few words. To quote the entire book: "A Winter Day. Cold and gray. Snowflakes. Pancakes. Cover your heads. Skates and sleds. A snowball grows. Warm your toes. Everything white. Orange light. A winter night." It is a poem, even if it wasn't written to be one; it's short, list-y, image-laden, sentimental but thankfully, with very few adjectives, in a word: perfect - or poetic - I often consider these two words to be synonymic anyway.

Little House, Little Town by Scott Beck
This is the other book that I just can't seem to return to the library. My husband recently remarked upon reading it for the dozenth time, "Why do all kids books take place in pastoral settings?". Well, for one, they probably don't it's just that I tend to favour the ones that do (and therefore, bring them home from the library) because it's what I like. Also, I grew up in a rather pastoral setting myself and wish to convey some of the freedom and security that I felt as a child due to my surroundings to my kids growing up in a rental house in the city. This book encapsulates the sentiment of a childhood realization that I assume is a common one for I remember it well. That is, that there is a world of other people going about their own lives every moment of every day and they are making the world go round. I clearly remember lying down for naptime at daycare when I was three or so and hearing the occasional car approach, accelerate, pass, and fade into the distance while feeling snug and cozy but aware of the world out there. While I have thought that I could improve upon Beck's particular words, a few lines really resonate with me. "Daddy turns the sprinkler on. Mama yawns a little yawn and pats her baby's back. Outside the train goes down the track." And later in the day, "People head home from the park. The mechanic puts his tools away. Children come in from their play. Now it's getting dark. Daddy rocks his boy to sleep. And with a kiss upon the cheek, he puts his baby down... in his little crib, in their little house, in the little town". I suppose it helps that Beck even uses our family's preferred parental pronouns, but there is something more that relaxes me when I read this book and it seems to do the same to my son. What more could you ask for in a bedtime story?

A Different Scarf Style Every Day of the Month (Well, Nearly)

I just wish I could remember a few of them when I'm on my way out the door...

November Raspberries

Seriously. I happened upon a mature raspberry patch while alleyway walking in early Autumn and I've been visiting the spot every week for six weeks now and the berries are still there: ripe, red, tart, and not moldy. I pick a handful each time, the toes of my shoes glistening in the heavy dew, little drops of water splashing onto the brim of my hat off overgrown canes, and my nose and fingers getting cold. There are plenty on the ground and it is obvious that no one is overly proprietorial about them and so I marvel and savour their unseasonal appearance, thinking each indulgence will be my last of the year and yet they continue to surprise me. This type of surprise is the best kind: an unexpected find that, with a little effort for a small berry with big flavour, can totally make my rainy day.

Photo credit Leora Wenger