Snapshots

Snapshots

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We had had one of those humid days where we were reminded that it was summer still. Temps soared past the 80s, and the breeze barely moved the flag as the day elapsed before us.  Being an EXTREMELY pale human being, it was a good thing that I was wearing a longer-sleeved dress, because otherwise my arms would have been very sunburnt.

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I am wearing an animal-print dress from TopShop & DolceVita mules.

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We had some of Ryan’s friends from the area stop by, along with Ryan’s family that lived in Vermont. It was a low pressure type of celebration & party, with a lot of overwhelming positivity. Ryan’s friends brought a selection of Vermont beers for us to add to our cooler.

We really did not want this to be about gifts or presents, but about time spent with loved ones.  But naturally with all of that being said, we were showered with kindness & items to start a new chapter in our lives still. Pictured below was a present that summed up that sentiment very nicely, without me feeling like I was posting about who got me what.

At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter about our ceremony or reception or what we had for a wedding dinner…it matters how much I love Ryan & how excited I am to see how we grow together. We’re a team in life—and that was the true takeaway of this weekend.

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Musings in the Maples

Written on 9/18, after a road-trip from St Albans, Vermont back to the Capitol Region of New York.

Musings in the Maples
by mk hubbard

I love that the whole state seems to bleed syrup
instead of blood
— roots dive deep into the Earth, & maples are very strong.
The people there view the golden liquid as the nectar of life,
replacing other golds, like honey & precious metal.

The trees are lined with taps, connecting forests together,
a web of dependence on the sugary substance that oozes from their cores.
The farmlands are large, and double yellow lined roads with their higher speed limits, still wind & curve forcing you to slow down,
to make you look around.

Like the maple liquid itself, the drips of sweetness come at their own time, as you travel further & further North…

The mountain top with its trees changing in drips to fall foliage as the sun sets over them, reminds you of the snow to come–
And the ghost of chairlifts swing in the summer heat, waiting to be filled with people, excited for another sugary substance, although this time a powder.
As the Moon rises over the trees, it illuminates the change in a sadder way than the sun does– reminding you that seasons changing have nothing to do with the whims of what we as humans want, but what the Earth demands.

Saturday Doings

The weather FINALLY was below 90 degrees today! We seemed to dip into Fall this morning with a small chill, hinting in the air. Ryan exclaimed “Flannel Weather!” when we left our apartment to go to Target. The aisles screamed at us that the seasons were indeed changing, with summer clothes spread in clearance racks across the floor & “Game Day” snack ideas.

Our purchases today were small apartment items, including a shoe rack and water filters. So naturally, I ended up in the makeup aisle at some point, and treated myself to $10 dollar eye palette. Ryan and I have been brainstorming ideas about starting a video channel to go with my blog– but I did get a little stage fright at the thought. I would have to practice or map out my videos, but as long as it goes with my theme. I could read aloud my poetry, or try a new eye makeup, or unbox a subscription box…all thoughts we’ve been thinking about.

I circle back to the change of seasons in this post because Fall continues to be my favorite time of year. I feel most creative around this time, I love the colors, activities, flavors, and promise of a new year approaching. It’s truly magical to live in this area this time of year, & we plan on sharing as much of the ~ Fall Foliage~  as one account can handle. There is a crispness that comes with the apples, a sweetness with the pumpkins, a coolness with the aura of spirits that truly only  comes once a year.

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My Current Projects

I tend to want to start EVERYTHING— but have a hard time finishing the tasks. Perhaps it’s bad follow through, or perhaps a need for it to be perfect that causes me to abort a project, or even better, a combination,  but it has been something I have been dealing with all my life.

I had a professor talk to us about the importance of  telling others your goals:“You are more likely to complete something if you can verbalize & visualize the outcome,” he lectured.

Yet the concept struck a chord. So here’s a small list of the projects/post ideas I have. If I write it out, it counts!

  1. I am currently visiting ice cream shops with Ryan #icecreamquest. It has been a really fun way to get out of the apartment—but we had to start spacing the ice cream stops out more so that we don’t end up becoming sick of it.
  2. I have been researching skin care routines– so many products! I have a green tea and/or tea tree allergy (not positive ) which makes finding products time consuming. I aim to compile a list of products for sensitive skin.
  3. I am partaking in the GoodReads Reading Challenge. Basically, you take the number of books you read last year, and add 3. I read a lot last year (57) so my goal this year is 60. I have some catching up to do this month & plan on posting the books I ended up enjoying.

 

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Monday Morning Coffee

When I was little, I used to steal my Grandma’s coffee. I loved the way it tasted—warm and a little bitter, but most importantly, I felt like a grown up. My mommy had some in her cup every morning, my grammy would have some too & I wanted to be just like them when I grew up. So whenever I was over, I would steal the sips out of my Grandma’s mug when I thought she wasn’t looking, but she knew it was me. Who else? My sister was 2 1/2 tops, at this point, and she had other things to do. The coffee was mine for the taking. But instead of scolding me for taking her coffee, my Grandma poured me a small cup of my own, and said it was “okay to have a little.”

I did not stop stealing sips of her coffee until I eventually could have my own cups. I stole some from my mother too. My mom didn’t want me to start drinking coffee for health reasons (fair) but I wanted desperately to be seen as older than I was.  I was mature enough for coffee Mom! I could handle it! I was done growing! All of my arguments were made. My mom eventually started letting me drink coffee every day with her when I was in the 6th grade. It was big doings because I had to wake up an hour earlier than everyone for the middle school bus. I got to have coffee with Mom & I felt like my life was going to happen. Maybe I’d even get asked on a date! That could happen to coffee drinkers, my 12 year old self pondered while sipping her watered down coffee.

Slowly 2 of my sisters started to join in as they too had to get up earlier and earlier. Our days were getting more packed, and somewhere along the way, the coffee time in the morning became scarcer and scarcer. Coffee in the mornings were purely for purpose instead of socializing. Days and schedules were discussed. Things were in motion. The cups we had were on-the-go.

Coffee in college brought back some more aspect of socializing. I had study groups in small Starbucks, and I had some groups where we would stop to grab each other coffee before class if it was on the way–it became a point of discussion. “Oh man, my night was so busy studying xyz…pass the coffee!” In academia, business, pretty much any aspect of life– being overtired becomes glamorous at some point, so you better have a signature drink to match. After college, I entered into the working world where coffee was again an on-the-go experience.  I frequented drive-thrus, mobil-ordered ahead, got my apps. I justified my coffee addiction as “cheaper than cigarettes” but not any more beneficial to my health. I substituted meals for coffee, and felt like I didn’t have time to enjoy any of it because I had other things that were more important.

When I met Ryan, I was not in a good place. I had been on a road of anger directed at everyone and everything.  I felt really lonely, but instead of admitting that, I lashed out and grew distant, or overshared as a test of people’s loyalty. I didn’t know how to be a good friend. Ryan & I met under funny circumstances, and not in our best state of mind thanks to another liquid. We hit it off and ended up going on dates, tip-toeing around the topic for 1 month before he asked me to be his girlfriend with a mouthful of Sour-patch kids. He was introverted like myself, but his sense of humor made me double over. I remembered thinking “I love laughing with him” after a date where he had made me dinner, and couldn’t get the wine bottle to open.

Falling in love with Ryan reminded me about my first stolen sips of coffee. His whole persona was like a cup made just for me–warm, inviting and grown up. He did not want to play games with me, he wanted a real relationship. He wanted to make me laugh and hear about my day, or tell me about his–but most importantly to me, he wanted to be as persistent as a cup of coffee. My everyday choice, my forever go-to.

Ryan makes my coffee for me in the morning. Not every day, but about 3 times or so a week, he brings me a cup of coffee that somehow tastes better because he made it. He puts in a dash of cinnamon, and some sugar, but it’s all about the timing. It’s a small way that he shows me love every single day. When I taste the coffee he made for me, I sit and think about the day ahead, or ask him what’s going to be happening in his world for the day. When my coffee is still hot, the day seems to have that much more potential to it. After he leaves for work, while my coffee is still warm, I usually call my Mom or my Grandma. I feel better after checking on both of them, to make sure that they too got a cup of warm coffee & love that day, because that’s what coffee means to me.

Here’s a picture of Ryan:

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He’s usually behind the camera, but I made him pose for a shot. He’s wearing a soft grey t-shirt, some blue shorts from an unknown time & some Vans as well.

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