Author: Beth DeFries

My name is Beth! I hope you will join me on my adventures as I share my thoughts and writings on coziness minimalism, and life. So grab a cup of tea, mug of coffee, or glass of wine and let’s talk cozy!
Puerto Rico Travel Journal
Travel

Puerto Rico Travel Journal

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

We were greeted by ominous clouds upon landing at Newark Airport yesterday afternoon, a drastic change from our view upon waking up in Fajardo, Puerto Rico- turquoise water stretching from Puerto Chico out to Cayo Icacos, where we had walked in the sand just the morning before. It was a treat to swap the chill of New Jersey in February for the warm sunshine and breezes of Puerto Rico, even if only for a few days.

San Juan

We landed in Carolina on Thursday and drove to Old San Juan to take in the colors and the history of the city and its fortresses. Some of the streets in Old San Juan are narrow, cobbled, and steep. We parked with relief in a lot down by the port on the south side of Old San Juan and went in search of lunch. I had done some research beforehand on a few restaurant options, but found opening hours to be varied and inconsistent with my research. We stopped in at Café El Punto for a snack of some mariquitas de platano con guacamole and café frio. Both were delicious, but I was itching to get back outside to explore. I knew heading to Puerto Rico that restaurant service runs on “island time”, a slowed down version of regular time, and so it took a little while to actually get back outside.

The sun was hot and the breeze-warm as we headed up the hill along the winding streets, in the direction of Castillo San Felipe del Morro, perhaps better known simply as El Morro. The fort is perched overlooking the ocean and the Bay of San Juan in the northwesternmost tip of the island of Old San Juan. An expansive stretch of inviting green grass and blue sky welcomed us as we neared the fort.

It felt a little surreal to see the US National Parks emblem on the sign for El Morro, being on an island in the Caribbean, 1000 miles from the mainland. Puerto Rico, though a United States Territory, retains a unique charm and culture, not to mention a long-spanning history that is very unique to the island and very distinct from the influence of US mainland culture.

Inside the fortress’ thick, stone walls, tourists snapped photos and wove in, out, and through, from chamber to chamber, taking in the history of one of the most attacked fortresses in history due to San Juan’s attractive and strategic harbor location in the Caribbean. The walls were built to resist cannon fire and the fort developed a reputation for being unconquerable after evading invasion attempts by the English, Dutch, and British from the 16th to the 18th century. The fort fell to the hands of the Americans during the Spanish American War, ultimately succumbing due to updated capabilities of naval weaponry. El Morro was also used in later years as a US military base during WWI and WWII.

Nowadays, the fort is the perfect spot to take in the view of the turquoise and cerulean Atlantic waters crashing into white froth on the rocks below. Exhibits within the fort’s stone walls provide insight into what life was like for the Spanish soldiers stationed there in the 1700s and it was interesting to read about the history and wander the sunny plaza, sentry boxes (garitas), dim passageways, arched chambers, and original structures, one of which dated back to 1539.

From El Morro, we walked east along the waterfront, on the outskirts of La Perla. We stuck to the road with Castillo San Cristobal in our sights as our entry fee to El Morro included entry to the other fort as well. Castillo San Cristobal was less crowded and felt a little smaller than El Morro. It was here where we first encountered some island wildlife- a couple of iguanas, one cooling itself in the shade between the battlements and one basking in the sunshine.

With tired legs and the beginning aches of sunburn, we decided to head somewhere for lunch and a cold drink. We opted for St. Germain Bistro & Café. The island time was real at this restaurant, let me tell you my friends, and it took a looong time to even be acknowledged by the wait staff, let alone to get our drinks and food. More than one couple got up and left between our seating and when we paid our check due to the long wait for their order to be taken. The restaurant did not seem so busy and we marveled at the staff’s lack of interest in taking people’s food and drink orders. People leaving just seemed like business as usual, so I guess we were lucky to ultimately be served?

Service aside, my cocktail and our food were both delicious. I ordered a Whiskey Business which was refreshing and tasty and Mike got the locally brewed beer, Medalla. We shared a carrot dip and a refreshing avocado salad and then dug into our main dish which was a bell pepper stuffed with stewed lentils and topped with cheese, accompanied by rice and beans. It was so good and made the long wait feel almost worth it.

With full bellies and rain starting to sprinkle, we went back to the car and settled in for the drive over to the east coast to our Airbnb in Fajardo. As we made our way across the northern side of the island, we spotted advertisements and structures for many familiar restaurant chains. Puerto Rico takes American fast food culture to the next level. If you are a fast food fan living on the mainland, you will find pretty much all of the typical fast food offerings from home if you visit Puerto Rico, along with many additional highway-side local food vendors to choose from.

As we drove across the island, we noticed many dilapidated homes, businesses, and structures and wondered if the properties were abandoned remnants from the devastation caused by Hurricane Maria back in 2017. My memory of the island will likely be equal parts paradise and devastation as it was evident how much of a permanent toll the hurricane’s destruction took on the island and its residents.

Fajardo

We arrived at our Airbnb in Fajardo, a condo on an upper floor of an apartment building that overlooked Puerto Chico. The view was breathtaking and brought us quickly back to a state of paradise.

Vieques

Fajardo proved to be an excellent location for our adventurous itinerary over the next couple of days. We started the day on Friday with a boat tour to the island of Vieques for snorkeling and some relaxing walks on the beach. We made the mistake of sitting on the second level of the boat on the way out of the marina and got walloped with salty spray for the forty-five minute rollicking journey to Vieques, a truly romantic experience to kick off our Valentine’s Day.

The boat ride put all of my fear of snorkeling out of mind until we reached the snorkeling spot, that is. I was a little afraid to get into the open water after one of the other people on our tour asked one of the guides if there would be sharks. “This is the ocean man,” he responded, “There’s anything: treasure, migrants, anything!” So that meant there might be sharks. My mom being a big fan of Jaws, I am not a big fan of swimming with sharks. I wasn’t gonna chicken out though, so I put on my mask, slipped on my flippers and descended into the water.

There’s something that happens when you are living in the moment of a thrilling experience. Fear subsides and intrigue takes over. Once my head was under water, I was fine. There is something so calming in the pressure and the isolation. There is depth and cold and Darth Vader sounds coming from the snorkel, and everything’s ok somehow. I saw a sea turtle laying in the sand and watched for a while hoping it was alive. I came up to get my bearings.

“Want to see a sting ray?” said the guide.

He could have said, Want to see a shark? and my answer would have been the same.

“Yeah!”

The rush of the moment takes over and that’s when the real living starts. It just doesn’t happen often so you have to take advantage of it when it does.

We anchored by Playa Punta Arenas on the northwestern tip of Vieques. The beach was nearly empty except for our group. The sand was gold and backed up to green jungle. The water was turquoise and clear and I could see my feet and a few fish swimming nearby. There was a lunch of sandwiches and pasta salad on the boat and an open rum cocktail bar plentiful with pina coladas. The paradise was really making its mark and the coconut was cool and sweet.

Luquillo

We returned to the main island and headed to Luquillo to peruse the food kiosk offerings there. After walking the length of the kioskos, we decided we’d try La Parilla and Nativa Latin Cuisine. At La Parilla, we each enjoyed a cold Medalla, a beer brewed in Puerto Rico, and ordered a carne frita meal to share. The pork was tender and delicious and the view wasn’t half bad.

At Nativa Latin Cuisine, we had our second island time experience that was worth the wait. We ordered mofongo, a savory delight and Puerto Rican staple made of mashed plantains. Ours came topped with criollo sauce and chicken and let’s just say we crushed the whole thing even though we weren’t hungry after La Parilla. Yum!

Icacos

The next day promised more adventure. We took another snorkeling tour and learned our lesson from the day before. We sat at the front of the boat this time, well into the covered section and stayed dry as the people in the back of the boat and up top got soaked. It shouldn’t feel good, but what can I tell you?

The second snorkeling adventure took us to a reef near the island of Icacos. We saw many more fish on this trip, but no larger creatures. It was cool to swim right up to the reef, although the reef, unfortunately, appeared to have suffered the effects of coral bleaching. After our guides called us back to the boat, we headed closer to the beach in Icacos and swam to shore to walk on the white sand.

Were it not for the crowded, party-like atmosphere at 11:00AM, I think I would have preferred this beach to the beach in Vieques from the day before. Remoteness has its own charms, though, so I’m happy we got to do both. A couple of pina coladas and coconut mojitos later, and it was time to head back to Fajardo.

El Yunque

Our next planned activity was a kayaking tour of the bioluminescent bay, Laguna Grande, later that evening so we had some time to add something else to our plans. We opted to drive out to El Yunque National Forest, the only tropical rainforest in the US. In El Yunque, we made a few brief stops including the Visitor’s Center, a kebob stand for a hasty lunch, La Coca Falls, and Torre Yokahu. If you only have time for one, I suggest Torre Yokahu as it offers impressive 360 degree views of the forest.

Laguna Grande

Ok, so remember the thing about the fear of sharks from earlier in this post and it going out the window due to the thrill of the moment? Well, I also have this thing about the dark. In the pursuit of adventure, fear must be cast aside sometimes and discomfort-embraced. This is what I told myself as we kayaked along the narrow canal through the pitch black mangrove after dark on our way to Laguna Grande, one of only five bioluminescent bays in the world.

We kayaked single file along the canal, guided only by a small red light on the back of each of the kayaks in front of us. We could hear the splash of paddles in the water and the coqui frogs singing in the tangled trees all around us and, somehow, I was not afraid anymore. It was beautiful- a line of dotted red gliding through the water on the way to the lagoon. Real life seems unreal sometimes, I thought.

We arrived at the lagoon and our guides instructed us on how to best view the bioluminescent effect in the water. The bioluminescent effect is a defense mechanism of the dinoflagellate plankton in the water and is activated when the plankton are disturbed by movement. The moon was pretty bright the night of our tour, but we still got to see a sparkling effect when moving our hands and paddles in the water. The tour also provided dark tarps that we covered ourselves with in order to better see the effect. It was magical and strange and probably looked like a weird ritualistic practice to the unknowing eye, but it was worth paddling through the dark to get a glimpse of the sparklers in the water.

After our tour, we changed quickly in the car to make our dinner reservation. Turns out we didn’t need to rush after all, though, as the host decided our reservation was too late in the day and lectured us on how we shouldn’t have made a reservation so late (even though it was available and not even the latest reservation available). They said they would still “help us” and we could stay, but we decided we didn’t need that favor on our last night after the lecture already ruffled our feathers a bit. Instead, we went to the local grocery store, Pueblo, and picked up a bottle of wine and a few things to make a delicious dinner of our own. It ended up being a fun and relaxing way to end our last night in Puerto Rico, so I’m almost happy for the little hiccup.

On our final morning, the usual wind present on our Airbnb’s balcony was still and we enjoyed some leftovers from our homemade meal the night before while sitting outside, soaking up the beautiful view one last time.

I enjoyed our trip, but was happy to head back to the airport and home to New Jersey. Even though the forecast for the evening promised cold and rain, there’s just something so inviting about home after being away. When the wheels touched down in Newark, I heard some passengers on the plane voicing their disappointment as they looked out the window, but I was looking forward to a hearty dinner at one of our favorite local restaurants. Something about getting away makes home more special. It disturbs the regular routine for a while and makes it sparkle brighter, even in the dark.

Health & Lifestyle · Healthy Habits · Mental Health · Minimalism

Reflections on My No Buy Month

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

The house is a mess today. I’ve decided there’s nothing wrong with that and I don’t plan on cleaning much. Maybe tomorrow. And that’s a hard maybe.

Yesterday was tough. February’s been a little tough so far, actually, but I think I’ve walked into some realizations, some signs marking the next turnoff to get back on the right track. I’ve got the GPS volume turned up high so I don’t miss it!

I completed my no shopping challenge with success in January and welcomed February with relief. I think I threw some stuff from my Amazon wish list into my cart at like 12:06AM on February 1st and immediately hit Proceed to Checkout. Granted, these purchases were needs rather than wants, but still, pretty embarrassing in hindsight that it only took six minutes into February to shop. Anybody else like this? If so, hope’s not lost! First, though, some background.

I quit coffee altogether for five months this past spring and summer. Before that, coffee was definitely something I relied on. I understand caffeine withdrawal like a pro. I’ve had splitting headaches that I didn’t understand until it hit me that I hadn’t had my coffee in X amount of hours. The fix was easy and all too accessible. Coffee is something I consume in moderation now, like everything else in my diet, and I try to remember the sense of dependance, anxiety, and physical discomfort that coffee represented for me in the past when I relied on it too much.

Hitting Proceed to Checkout at 12:06AM on February 1st and the subsequent dopamine release I experienced reminded me of those accessible caffeine fixes. Maybe shopping wasn’t just a habit. No; I recognized a problem.

Not buying stuff in January felt freeing. I wasn’t waiting on packages or tracking shipping. I didn’t have to drive anywhere to drop off returns. I didn’t have the shame I experience from the buy and return cycle. In January, the saving was the addiction and it felt great and I’m not just talking about money. Think about the time, the energy, the decisions that go into the cycle of shopping, or any bad habit- for that matter. And yet, shopping, once an available outlet again, overtook that sense of peace? Why? I had to get to the bottom of it.

I allowed myself to buy a few needs for the first few days of February, but soon found my wants encroaching. Precious time was lost to the scroll and limited mental energy- to decision fatigue. I have what I need! I tried to shout it in my head, but it came out meek. I preferred how I felt in January. I wanted that peace again, that time, that energy. I set a modest budget for the rest of the month for shopping, wondering if maybe the total deprivation of January was what led to “the itch” to shop as soon as January ended.

Now, let’s talk yesterday. Yesterday, I made a pact with myself to nip this habit in the bud and replace it with more constructive practices. I found myself distracted throughout the day with the craving to head to Marshall’s to buy things that I don’t need. Why? Procrastination, discomfort. When we have things that are difficult that we are supposed to be doing, it is uncomfortable. Discomfort is trigger numéro uno for me when it comes to giving in to bad habits. I learned that in my diet. I learned that in my creative pursuits. Heck, I’m writing this now and it’s not comfortable. I get help out of reading things like this, though, so in hopes that at least one of you will too, here are my reflections on the matter.

Yesterday afternoon, I got dressed with the thought of going to Marshall’s while simultaneously warring with myself to not go to Marshall’s. I left my home and went to my car. What are you doing? Just where do you think you’re going, missy? I said to myself. I got to the first stop sign and told myself, go for a walk instead. Get some energy out. Get some exercise, and maybe this idiotic craving will go away or at least become less noticeable.

By the magic of the gods I listened to me; which doesn’t happen nearly enough, I am sorry to say. I went to the park and started my walk. I ran into a woman I now know by name as I frequently see her on my walks. She said hi and called me by my name and said it was good to see me. That little bit of connection, that little tiny bit of recognition made me smile. I wouldn’t have gotten that at Marshall’s and I would have been short one smile yesterday. Thank you, Pamela.

I walked for about forty-five minutes and as I did, my thoughts turned to things other than shopping. I thought of minimalism and frugality, of mindfulness and the people in my life. I thought of the things that bring positivity and things that bring the opposite. I thought of things that fall into both categories- the people too. I made a mental list. At the end of my walk, I felt calmer. I went home and did some writing I’d been putting off. I watched an old Kate Kaden video on frugality and minimalism. I read some posts of Leo Babauta’s on his blog Zen Habits. I inched toward my center again. I felt my feet firmly on the ground.

This past year, I have learned a lot about myself, accepted a few glaring shortcomings, and been hit by realizations that probably could have been addressed by going to therapy at some point in time, but hey, maybe someday. And that’s a hard maybe. It takes a brave soul to speak your truth out loud to a real life person and I don’t know if I’d exactly be sorted into Gryffindor any old day of the week. I tend to internalize and the wisdom dawns slower, but it dawns all the same.

If you are a person who struggles with addiction and would like help, I hope you can recognize the strength that comes with reaching out to a loved one, a friend, a professional, a support group, heck-even reddit. There is not shame in seeking support and you are absolutely worth others’ time and energy.

Thanks for reading, friends. You are so loved and appreciated. Wishing you a February full of strength, clarity, gratitude, and all the good things! 💖

Cozy Posts · Poetry

The Dream House

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

I have a home inside my dreams

amid a forest of evergreens,

with sparkling water not too far,

and skylights to let in the stars.

My forest, green with mossy bark,

from misty rain and velvet dark,

has soil soft with molted leaves

outside home’s walls and wooden eaves.

A fire set in white-washed stone

highlights the mantle’s honey-tone.

It warms the room, glowing serene,

and conjures up a cozy scene.

And when I dream, I walk the halls,

trail fingertips on gray, stone walls.

I plod upon the cushioned rugs

while balancing steaming tea mugs.

Inside, there is one thing it lacks-

a place to sleep. But why? you ask.

In dreams, I do not sleep a wink,

for that would be surreal; I think.

Instead there is a weathered chair,

its leather arms, softened from wear.

I curl up in its squashy seat

to take in a view that can’t be beat.

Windows look out on dense trees,

a wall of glass to better see

the mossy world my house calls home,

beneath the color-changing dome.

I look out at my forest grow

and know, in waking, I must go.

I savor time and stone and beams

while I’m awake inside my dreams.

Travel

Molasses in January: A Savannah Winter Travel Journal

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

When we planned our trip to Savannah, GA for this past weekend, we looked forward to slowing things down and enjoying a winter retreat with warmer weather than we’ve been having at home. We planned on long, brisk, scenic walks through the Hostess City, beneath shaded canopies of live oaks draped in Spanish moss. We didn’t even imagine that the snow from days earlier in the week would have any impact our plans to explore.

Until last week, it hadn’t snowed in Savannah in seven years, according to many of the locals we encountered there. In our Uber ride from the airport to the historic district, we learned that the airport had only re-opened two hours before we landed, after being closed for three days. The streets and sidewalks were frosted with ice and snow, left to crust over, slick and perilous for tourists and local pedestrians determined enough to brave them.

We knew we’d slow things down in Savannah this past weekend, we just didn’t realize how much.

“Little, tiny, baby steps,” said Mike as we shuffled our way from the corner across from Wright Square to the front door of our Airbnb. The street was white and lined with parked cars molded to the curb with solidified snow. We saw people trying to dig out the sidewalks in front of their homes and businesses with metal, pointed-spade, garden shovels and leaf blowers and marveled at the unexpected culture shock of this city in the snow.

I checked my email and learned that our Restaurant Week dinner reservation had been canceled by the restaurant due to the road conditions, but was prepared with some alternatives. We got settled in our Airbnb, a beautiful one-bedroom apartment across from Wright Square and figured out our new plan for the evening.

Once we were settled, we headed out to brave the icy sidewalks in pursuit of cocktails and dinner. Our first stop was Alley Cat Lounge, a speakeasy-style cocktail bar located on a lane between Ellis and Telfair Square. We perused the Alley Cat Rag, a newspaper-style menu where the drink options are disguised as catalogue advertisements. I opted for the Improved Whiskey Cocktail, which tasted like an old fashioned but smelled like black gumdrops due to the touch of Absinthe it contained.

After cocktails, we little, tiny, baby-stepped our way south to The Public Kitchen & Bar on Bull & Liberty Street for a late night dinner. We were seated in a mid-century modern dining room with geometric pendant lamps that made the hygge-fan-girl in me very pleased. The food at The Public was probably the best of our trip and it had some serious contenders; let me tell you. We enjoyed the Autumn Salad, the Seafood Mac (a creamy, cheesy delight packed with lobster, shrimp, and scallops), and the Lamb Burger (our favorite single food item of the entire trip, a perfectly cooked and spiced burger paired with goat cheese and sweet pepper jam-take me back!).

After dinner, we packed up our leftovers and headed back out into the cold night. We slipped and slid our way back up Bull Street and stumbled across Chippewa Square. Chippewa Square was used as a filming location in the movie, Forrest Gump, and served as the backdrop to the bench where Forrest sits with his suitcase throughout multiple scenes in the movie. While the bench is in a museum now, we still paused to snap a picture only to learn that we had taken the photo from the wrong side of the park. We remedied this error, however, the next evening.

The next morning, I checked my email and learned that our tour of Bonaventure Cemetery for that afternoon had been canceled and that the cemetery would be closed until Monday due to the winter road conditions. We did not end up making it out to the cemetery on this trip as our timing did not allow for a Monday visit. Our morning walking tour of the city, however, was still on, so we headed around the corner to meet up with our tour group.

Our guide from Genteel & Bard Tours was a conservatory-trained actor and certified tour guide who had a contagious enthusiasm for the history of the city. He led us around the historic district, sticking to soft snow or the sunny side of the street as much as possible to allow for safer walking conditions, but we still got to skate around a little bit as we learned more about Savannah’s historic figures and the city’s design.

Among the homes featured on our history tour, was the Green-Meldrim house off of Madison Square. The home served as the headquarters for General Sherman, of the Union Army, during the winter of 1864-1865. According to our guide and a plaque in Madison Square, Sherman met with 20 leaders from Savannah’s African-American churches at the house, under Lincoln’s orders, resulting in his issuing the Special Field Orders No. 15, which reserved coastal land in the south to be settled by freed families of enlisted freedmen. The order was in place only for a short while though, unfortunately, only to be revoked by President Andrew Johnson following President Abraham Lincoln’s death.

Our tour continued south, past scenic Jones Street and through Monterey Square. We learned about the significance of what local Savannahians apparently refer to as “The Book”. The Mercer-Williams House was once home to Jim Williams, an influential player on the chessboard of Savannah Society, in his day. Williams held political sway and significant policy influence by means of invitations (or lack thereof) to his lavish, Saturday parties. Jim Williams was also tried four times for the same murder, the story of which is the basis for John Berendt’s novel Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.

We continued to wind our way through the slippery streets of the historic district and stopped in front of a derelict, Georgian house that was purchased by the owners two years ago and partially demolished, losing the symmetry iconic of Georgian-style architecture. Further renovation on the property must abide by the city’s strictly enforced historic preservation rules. The house overlooks beautiful Taylor Square, so I suppose the renovation will have been worth the wait, once completed.

With one more view of beautiful Jones Street, our tour ended in Lafayette Square, flanked on two sides by The Cathedral Basilica of St. John the Baptist and the Andrew Low House, once home to Juliette Gordon Low, the founder of the Girl Guides and the Girl Scouts.

We took some time for a short rest back at our Airbnb, hoping that the sunny day would work its magic on the icy city and then headed back out for some more views and adventure.

We made our way east across the city and up towards the Savannah riverfront, encountering Savannah’s “Waving Girl” statue of Florence Martus and her dog. We would learn more about her on our Savannah Riverboat Cruise the next day, where our guide told the story that Florence lived on a remote island with her brother, a lighthouse keeper, following their parents’ early death. She would wave to every ship that passed the island, calling out to sailors to ask where they had sailed from and where they were heading. She even trained her dog to wake her up so she wouldn’t miss a passing ship. The tour guide also told us that Florence Martus’ funeral was the most attended in Savannah’s history due to her renown among the maritime community in the area.

We headed up to our next stop for some drinks and lunch, Bar Julian, a place recommended to us by our Airbnb host as having the best rooftop view of the city. I ordered a Mint Julep and we shared a Kafta flatbread that was absolutely delicious. The views were pretty beautiful, but I think my favorite views of Savannah were smaller scale, and from much lower heights, beneath the towering oaks in the city’s plentiful squares.

For dinner later on, we headed to Wright Square Bistro and enjoyed delicious and plentiful fare of mushroom lasagna and steak frites, along with some house red wine and good conversation. It was one of those dinners that I feel like I’ll remember for a long time because of the whole experience and how relaxed I felt in the restaurant’s cozy, unfussy environs. I was enjoying myself so much that I forgot to take any pictures.

Still full from dinner the previous night, we set out the next morning with a goal to see every Square in Savannah and to get a better glimpse of Forsyth Park. Our guide on our walking tour the previous day seemed less than thrilled with Forsyth Park’s centerpiece, a beautiful fountain that the city ordered out of a catalogue and installed in 1858. I still thought it was pretty beautiful and wanted a photo with it.

Our appetites returned in full force and we walked north in pursuit of brunch at The Collins Quarter downtown. We were seated in a cozy room downstairs and our server told us that we couldn’t go wrong with anything we ordered. Based solely on what we ordered, he was correct. I opted for the breakfast sandwich and a spiced lavender mocha. I think it may have been the best coffee of my entire life.

After brunch, we took a river boat cruise on the Savannah River aboard the Georgia Queen and learned about Savannah’s claim to fame as the third largest port in the US (if you combine LA and Long Beach; 4th if you don’t). We learned the history behind the Florence Martus statue and passed by Old Fort Jackson during a cannon fire reenactment. Our guide even pointed out some dolphins in the river and I managed to snap a photo of one in the last photo pictured here! Eep!

Our adventure continued on at the American Prohibition Museum, an impressively-themed tribute to a weird time in history. As we wandered through the lifelike dioramas and displays, including a whiskey gutter, moonshine operation, mob-hit scene, and speak-easy, we wondered just how drunk America was all the time to make the movement seem sane to the “Dries”, those in support of Prohibition. From the samples of propaganda on display throughout the museum, the sway of the media seemed clear, but from the artifacts on display and loopholes detailed in the information plaques, so too was the nation’s affinity for drink.

After the American Prohibition Museum, we were in need of a drink or two. We headed over to Service Brewing Co. and ordered a flight to share. Each sample we tried was excellent, so I imagine it would be hard to go wrong with any of their offerings.

We continued on to the lobby of the JW Marriott in the new Plant Riverside District, it having been suggested by our Airbnb host and our riverboat tour guide as something worth seeing. The biggest draw to the Marriott’s lobby is the huge, chrome, dinosaur suspended from the ceiling followed by the fossils and some massive geodes on display. We found the plaques associated with the display items to be a little pretentious, and didn’t feel the need to stay long. I think we may just be spoiled having lived in New York for years. I have never seen anything quite so impressive as the fossils on display in the American Museum of Natural History, so a chrome dinosaur isn’t gonna do it for me. Someone else might think it’s really cool though, so take what I say with a grain of salt and enjoy as you will.

The next morning, before leaving what is now among my list of favorite places I have visited, we stopped to grab me one one spiced lavender mocha before heading off to the airport for our flight home. Savannah is over for us for now, but it was more beautiful than I dreamed it would be and I look forward to going back someday. Perhaps we’ll walk slow again upon the snow beneath the oaks some other January to come. For now, I have my memories to retrace our icy steps.

Cozy Posts · Health & Lifestyle

January Postcard

Beth DeFries2 Comments

Dear friends,

Someday it will stop being cold, but for right now, it’s January in New Jersey and that day is likely a ways off. Sigh.

I’m still going strong on not buying unnecessary things this month, despite a few temptations, but am taking it day by day, with every day successful, so far. I am not spending on wardrobe items, coffee shops, housewares, or decor this month. I have what I need and am beyond grateful for it.

The ongoing fires in southern California remind me that true need is much more basic than what many of us deem necessary in today’s world. Family, friends, health, shelter, clothing, food, water, clean air, safety, and enough money to sustain these needs. Everything else is extra. I feel like it’s easy to forget that sometimes. It’s easy to take these things for granted through the constant buzz of consumer culture that we are bombarded with daily in the US.

I’ve been wandering a path of change over the past seven months and have learned that change takes patience and patience takes willpower. I challenge myself to exercise willpower every day in the challenges and changes I have made because they are good for me.

Exercise is tough in the winter compared to the warmer months. It takes extra willpower to get outside for a walk. It takes even more to stay outside as long as I should. Today was a weigh-in day and another loss. Being down 45 pounds since June is good enough motivation to bundle up and get a whole mess of steps in. It’s also much, much colder in winter though without my former layer of squish. I’ll put an extra sweater on and take the chill with gratitude.

It’s an Earl Grey day for tea and I’m sipping in my writing spot on the big, blue couch. A maelstrom rages in the dishwasher and the dryer’s humming in the laundry room – my domestic soundtrack for the afternoon.

I took two books out of the library last week and haven’t started either, despite being sure that I will enjoy both. Maeve Binchy and Judy Blume sit beneath the lamp on the wooden bench that my dad made whispering, “Write. Read.” It’s probably rude to ignore your idols, so, sorry ladies; I will aim to do some of both today.

Bit of a ramble today, but if you are reading this, I hope you are cozy and warm. If today’s a tough day, I hope something has yet to happen that makes you smile. If it’s a good day, then-yes! Go you! 🙂 As always, thanks for reading.

Love,

Beth

Health & Lifestyle · Healthy Habits · Minimalism

Gratitude

Beth DeFries2 Comments

It’s January people and boy, oh boy, does it certainly feel like it here in NJ! I’ve got my warm socks, a chunky sweater, and a big hand-knit hat, that my sister in law made, to keep me nice and toasty while writing this. These comfies are adding a little extra security too as I’m not quite sure yet where this post is headed.

This morning, I put away the Christmas decor and the living room feels a little empty in a good way. I’m positive toward negative space. It’s easier on the eyes than our little tree with its warm white, twinkle lights. It’s easier on the mind too and I needed to get back into a writing headspace. The holidays were beautiful and festive and temporary and today felt like the day to store them away so they feel special again come next winter.

On New Year’s Eve, following spending a bit more than usual on shopping in December, I decided I would challenge myself to do a “no shop month” in January. It’s been a week and I’m finally starting to feel like I will actually be able to get through the challenge and possibly even stretch the end date. I don’t want to spend like I did in December, mostly because there is no need to anymore. It all comes down to gratitude, which I’ll get into more in a little bit.

Through the years, I have developed a strong understanding of my personal style, not to say that I have excellent style or anything. Style is subjective. Style can change based on different factors and experiences. The purpose of style is to send yourself out into the world feeling confident so you can accomplish big and little things without feeling self conscious or uncomfortable because of what you’re wearing. Everyone has a sense of personal style whether you recognize yours or not.

I may think that I dress well, but somebody else might disagree. I try not to concern myself though with the somebody else-s of the world when I put an outfit together. It doesn’t matter what somebody else thinks about my clothes so long as I like what I’m wearing and it makes me feel capable and confident. It’s when my clothes aren’t doing that anymore that indicates a time to take a step back and re-evaluate my wardrobe.

I have come to learn that many factors can influence personal style such as personality, budget, availability, occupation, hobbies, and, of course, size and appearance, among others. Back in the spring, I had a personal style that I understood cover to cover. I knew what silhouettes would flatter and conceal, which colors and patterns disguised the areas I preferred not to advertise, and which fabrics hung just so and made me feel like the best version of me.

My appearance has changed a little bit since spring and many of my old favorites don’t give me the confidence that they used to anymore. Many don’t hang just so or flatter. They swallow up a bit too much and there’s only so much a belt can do. Sometimes you just need to buy a few items to make you feel put together again. Hence, my December spree.

My body has a different shape now, a different influence on my mind than it used to, and a different influence on my sense of comfort and contentment. I am a different version of me than I was in the spring. Sometimes, looking back at old photos, it feels sort of like an out of body experience.

I am grateful to the former Beth for noticing the switch flip back in June when it came to questioning distorted hunger cues and unhealthy eating habits. That girl changed my life. I’d love to thank her, but I can’t. She is frozen in time in June looking at a photo of herself from a trip to Chicago, perched precariously on the precipice of something huge. I don’t know if anyone has ever shown up for me quite like that girl did. Certainly, no one has ever called me out on poor habits like she did. No one really could though, I guess. Some things can only come from within. Some things take discomfort to learn. Better her than me, am I right? I am proud of her though. I’m excited for her too, if it’s worth anything from where I stand in her future.

My body changed and my style floundered a bit for a while. It’s a weird feeling to be a size that I never fathomed associating with me. It’s a mental hurdle and a new adventure. I was never one for numbers. Now, I am Milo in Digitopolis with no Tock at my side. From bi-weekly weigh-ins to occasional measurements to money spent on new wardrobe items, it’s easy to get lost in the numbers, in the purchases and returns, in the bank account balance, gas mileage, and shipping and delivery dates. I need a break from numbers, frankly. The fun of shopping can quickly turn into buyer’s remorse and more work in the long run and I just don’t need that right now.

This January is going to be for other things. My wardrobe has all the things it needs and more. There’s no need to shop. I have learned to listen to need over want with my eating habits so much so that I am confident I can do that with my shopping habits as well. This month is for focusing on travel planning and writing, for cozy nights in on freezing days, for doing puzzles with my husband, for bundled-up walks in the crisp chilly air, and for experiencing all of life’s little moments with the presence and attention they deserve. I have all I need. I have all that matters. I am abundant with gratitude and that’s something you just can’t buy.

Cozy Posts · Movies

Rule Number 32

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

A couple of weeks ago, we watched a favorite we hadn’t seen in a while, the 2009 Horror/Comedy, Zombieland. Throughout the movie, Columbus (Jessie Eisenberg) introduces his set of rules for surviving a world overrun by zombies while trying to find his way from Texas to Ohio. The movie takes a sharp westward turn soon after Columbus unites with the Twinkie-craving, trigger-happy Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson), followed by the cunning duo, Wichita (Emma Stone) and Little Rock (Abigail Breslin). The movie has become somewhat of a cult classic and leans heavily on the comedy, with the obligatory side of brains- of course.

But back to the rules.

There is one of Columbus’ rules in particular that Mike likes to quote all of the time and always in reference to yours truly. It’s Rule Number 32, Enjoy the little things. I find immense joy in little things. Couldn’t really tell you why; it just happens that way. Color me lucky, I guess.

Sometimes “the little things” are physically small objects, like the tiny rubber elephant that I bought in Seattle in 2016 and still carry in my handbag or the Christmas bird with the busted wing that I bought from Michael’s on Halloween back in 2020. These sorts of little things were very intentional additions to my happiness. I learned of their existence in the world and knew they were meant for me and so, I made them mine.

There are also the little sensory experiences that bring me a lot of joy such as feeling the heat from the stove while boiling the kettle, breathing in the earthy scent of crispy book pages, or peeling apart the golden crust of a flaky croissant, to name just a few. Think Amélie and her petits plaisirs, like cracking the caramelized topping of crème brulée with the back of a spoon. She gets it.

I collect these little moments, these “little things”.

Today, one of my little things is the combination of the cello vamp and string line in Bleacher’s “91” which I have playing on repeat as I write this post. Yesterday, it was getting a Christmas card from my cousin, Jen, the scent of warm, coconut curry that lingered long after Mike made dinner, and enjoying a scoop of Graeter’s Black Raspberry Ice Cream from a little ramekin with a little spoon. 😊

Each day has lots of these little things, lots of little opportunities to experience joy.

Today was a coffee sort of morning, thanks to the complimentary Starbucks Holiday Blend that came with our latest Hello Fresh delivery and I just couldn’t resist brewing a cup in my favorite mug (see, there’s another one right there). Sitting by the window in one of our outdoor chairs, that was recently cleaned off and pulled inside for the winter, is one of my favorite things in the colder months. I sipped and watched the waves roll in on the beach while toasting my toes beneath the electric baseboard. I wish I could share that feeling with everyone; the world would be a much calmer place.

My caffeine-induced heartbeat’s trying to match the cello vamp now, but lacks the necessary arrythmia to do so. Christmas Eve is next week, a day that feels more all-encompassing of the celebration of the holiday than Christmas Day, at least in my personal experience. The gathering, the revelry, the heraldry. And lots of little joys all around. A roaring fire in my parents’ woodstove, Celtic Christmas music playing, warm mugs of tea and their swirling clouds of steam, and lots of smiles and laughs.

Writing this post is giving me joy too. Writing most of them has, for that matter. I checked and this is number 97. Soon it will be number 100, but that won’t be a little thing at all, will it? No, that one will feel pretty big, I think.

Thank you for reading and Happy Holidays, friends. I hope you practice Rule Number 32 this season, however you celebrate. Zombies aside, it’s not a bad one to live by.

Poetry

Defiance Gravity

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

What happens when you drop decorum from a skyscraper?

It’s a physics equation, on paper, or no?

Since gravity doesn’t apply to behavior,

it lands both harder and not at all.

It’s a complex figure,

inserted amid the text of some published melding of the minds,

paired with questions posed by Isaac and Albert

beside photos of graffitied translations from ancient philosophers

frescoed into tonal gray cement that stains when it rains,

or illegible neon spray painted on shiny towers of glass that, themselves, 

set fire to parked cars in the summertime.

The author couldn’t actually explain,

just uses big words that blend together

until you don’t care about the answer anymore.

But if you put it to the test,

the reality can make quite the mess

and cleaning up takes time.

So mind your Ps and Qs, my friends

and queue your peas up end to end.

Then, pop and gnash

or stew and mash;

they’re good that way, I hear.

Oh- and just remember, dear;

how you act does, indeed, matter.

See, rules don’t only break when dropped.

They can bend,

amend,

and shatter.

Cozy Posts

December Postcard

Beth DeFries2 Comments

Dear friends,

It’s a chilly, damp evening here in New Jersey. Outside, the night is black taffeta, embroidered with the glowing orbs of street lamps in the fog. I’m sitting on the big, blue couch enjoying the tree which is up and twinkling while Joni sings through the speakers, “Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on.”

I forgot about my tea- as I often do- so it’s lukewarm beside me, but still steeped with warm spices that combat the weather. There is laundry to be folded and dishes to be done, but for right now, chores come second to a quiet moment. I’d just rather write to you than put the house in order.

My head is full of sparkly thoughts and familiar faces as I was lucky to see a lot of friends and some family over the course of the past few days- with more on the horizon. Everyone is the same, I find- beautiful, mismatched combinations of happy, confused, successful, busy, lost, and right-on-track souls. We all vary and that’s the part I find most beautiful. No person I know is perfect and I prefer it that way.

This night has me craving some serious “hygge” (hoo-gah), a word that encompasses the Danish spirit and habit of curating coziness in everyday spaces and moments. In pursuit of hygge, I’m all cozied up in warm socks, a big chunky cardigan, and a reindeer sweater. The table lamps are on and the ornaments on the tree project little film reels of memories in my head, mementos and tokens of past trips, handmade creations, and lasting friendships. We went with a fake tree this year, but it looks pretty real, so I don’t mind, though I do miss the smell of fresh cut pine permeating the room.

I find myself reflecting tonight. It’s been a good year, overall- imperfect, but interesting, as any year worth its salt ought to be. I learned a little and grew a lot, taking refuge in books and music like my life depended on it. My reading list has twenty books checked off, which reminds me, I need to choose a new selection, or perhaps I’ll reopen one I’ve already read. I think I could use a little handmade love from Molly Weasley or the homely hospitality of Elrond this time of year.

Or maybe it’s Maeve Binchy again. “This Year it Will Be Different”– an apt title to end a year that’s sparked some changes for me, that’s made me feel whole at times and absolutely drained in others, a year that’s led me to physical health, mental clarity, and self-acceptance more so than others have. This year was well-lived. I’ll take that and be grateful for it and wish you one just as thought provoking and inspiring in the year to come.

It’s time now, though, to reheat the kettle and hunt down some words. A world is waiting in a book on the shelf, after all, and I believe I’m overdue for a visit.

Cozy Posts · Nostalgic Posts

My Desk

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

Well hello there, you! This morning, I am sitting at my desk in what we call “The Big Room”. The desk, a scuffed up IKEA dining table bought by Mike’s roommate sometime in 2011, has served many functions over the years and has more than a few scars to show for it. It is imbued with the soul that comes from years of multipurpose use. It has served as a dining table, a catch-all for clutter, a boardgame and puzzle surface, an art studio, an interview office, a Friendsgiving buffet, a Christmas tree stand, and a TV stand, among other things I can’t recall. I am sure it is embedded with heat stains and maybe even a little grease from Williamsburg Pizza boxes and the condensation of water rings from ice cold bottles of Lagunitas IPA and Bell’s Two Hearted, fresh from the bodega down the street on Union Avenue.

When we first moved back to New Jersey, we used it as our dining table for a little while until my parents visited briefly during the pandemic to drop off some essential supplies and my mom laughed at how small it looked in the space. And so, our little, old table was retired from high traffic use and replaced by a newer, bigger, blander model from Amazon. I squirrelled the old one away in the laundry room for a while until its current purpose dawned on me. Afterall, every writer needs a desk. Wasn’t I a writer once?

Nestled in the corner of the Big Room, topped with a jar displaying two Harry Potter wands that my cousin and her husband made for me, a rock my sister brought back from Ireland, some 40-watt soft-white lamplight, and a pink, paper box of my nana’s that contains my writing books, this space is my main access to creation. It is rare that I sit at my desk and feel any sort of writer’s block. It has helped me through blog posts, fiction projects, plot holes, a play, poems, greeting cards, resumes, cover letters, emails, and even text messages. When I’m feeling unmotivated and uninspired, the awareness to sit down at my desk weighs on me and pressures productivity. And, like the drunk, scarred, slob that it is, it isn’t quiet about it.

My Desk

I like writing in the Big Room with the curtains drawn and the table lamps on. It’s cozy and dark and when I turn the heat up or bundle up in chunky-knit sweaters and sweatpants with a mug of tea near at hand, it’s even warm. Perhaps the best characteristics about the room however, for the purpose of writing, are that we don’t sleep in here for much of the year and that I can close the door to distraction.

In his memoir, “On Writing”, Stephen King mentions the importance of writing a first draft with the door closed. I am easily distracted and when my focus is interrupted, it starfishes onto something new and the suction can be a force to be reckoned with. If I am sitting up in the main area of our home, my closed door is represented by a large pair of headphones. That being said, being able to close a physical door comes in handy for me.

The Big Room is usually where we put guests when they come to visit. It has more space for luggage, kids, and pets. It even has a desk and a comfortable chair. I originally intended for the Big Room to be “our room” and hung our two framed wedding pictures on the wall, but by the time it got really cold our first year of living here, we learned pretty quickly that the little room holds heat in much better and so we make an annual migration in the fall and spring between the two. And so, our guests are stuck with us looking all glammed up when they stay in the Big Room. I guess I’ll just apologize for our not looking quite that pretty all the time!

Anyway, I’m using this post as a warm-up to jump back into a fiction project and I feel like it’s time to switch gears now. I’ll take a little break and make some tea and then come right back and get to work. Old Pizza Stains McDenty Face has me on the clock and my attention’s good and starfished.