Raspberry Picking at Moonshine Hollow

Charlotte's godmother, Julie, has the good fortune to own a mountain cabin near Camp David (how is it everyone we know owns A cabin? No idea) known as "Moonshine Hollow." Clad in stain-resistant tie-dye, we visited last weekend with a few other families to pick raspberries, "fish" and swim in her pond and then travel to the South Mountain Creamery to eat yumilicious ice cream and get licked by the cows. Like many Washingtonians, we get glass bottles of fresh milk and yogurt and meats delivered to our home each week from the farm. It was nice to finally put a mooing face to our dairy products.
Charlotte took the brunt of the licking, fond as she is of all thing four-footed. Harry, for his part, squealed at the pigs, shrieked at the cows and got very fond of a hutch full of bunnies. If you have little ones and live in DC and have not been to the Creamery, let us we highly recommend it.
Back home we made a very tart tart and topped it with ample amounts of whipped cream.

Thank you so much Aunt Julie for an awesome day. When can we come back?

Oooooh. Ahhhhhhh.......

Nothing say America like parking your buns on a high school football field, amid pick-up trucks and six packs, to celebrate the 4th. Which is exactly what we did, arriving just a wee bit early to let the kids dance and run on the grass before the show.
To my great surprise, they were nearly riveted through the very long show -- apparently the economic downturn has not injured THESE mountain festivities. U-S-A! U-S-A!

Watermelon at Large

All Harry knew was that we were going to Atlanta to visit Aunt Phebe "and put a watermelon in the creek."

Over and over, that's what he told us. So when we arrived, sure enough, Harry fetched the first watermelon he could find (had to weigh a ton) and began trying to haul it out the cabin door. "Mommy I need your help- We've got to go to the creek!"

It was a tone that implied the end was near if I did not comply. So, off to the creek we went. With Mr. Melon. Who stayed put all night until we could recover him, nice and cold, and served him up with dinner.

Georgia On My Mind

Atlanta is swiftly becoming one of my favorite destinations with the kids -- namely Aunt Phebe's "cabin" on Blood Mountain (inviting name isn't it? I keep expecting to run into Stephen King as we travel through...wait for it....Slaughter Gap).

But names aside, it's a magical spot that Phebe and her family have been visiting for decades, a place where Paul also spent much of his childhood and now, our kids are lucky enough to visit on the 4th of July. And the visits are made all the better with the extended Haven clan

along. There's uncles John, and Jim and Peter. Aunties Barbara - times two, and the slew of cousins: Nancy and her daughter Oceana. Grey and Keri and their sons Charlie and John....and the newest addition, beautiful Caroline, who was the perfect age, 15 months, to play with Charlotte. Everyone had a playmate.

But really, who needs playmates when you have wooded forest paths, crystal clear creeks to traipse through (the perfect place, Harry learned, to cool your watermelon overnight), bears to "hunt" and a lake to swim in.

Our dinners were very down home -- a collection of southern dishes

from terrific chefs -- I never knew I liked

collard greens and succotash. Frankly I'd never even heard of pole beans and patty pan squash. Now I'm not sure I can

live without them. Or our trips to Blood Mountain.

Just Desserts

There we were, away from home on vacation, in the mountains north of Atlanta, when our clever daughter decided that it was time to use the potty in earnest. I'm sure, dear readers, you will be delighted to know this is the last time you will be hearing about Charlotte's toileting habits until she's out of diapers. But suffice it to say I have never been so excited to see a deposit put somewhere other than in a Pamper. We celebrated that night at Aunt Phebe's home with petite, Charlotte-sized cupcakes selected by cousin Oceana. Harry was, to his credit, excited to help Charlotte celebrate her achievement, gushing "she's a hero!"

Mimi and Mimi

Charlotte has one name for her dollies -- Mimi (we think it's a bastardization of Meggy, the "given" name of her first baby doll). One thing is for certain when you're a discerning girl under the age of eight: you can never have enough Mimis - a lesson we learned from our buddy Sabrina.

I Wear My Sunglasses at Night

Big blue eyes are awesome until the sun comes out. Harry requested his shades and Charlotte tagged along for the ride.