Tag: fall

Cozy Posts · Travel

October and New England Adventures

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

October is one of my favorite months. It is never long enough, in my opinion, despite having thirty-one days. Happy Halloween, by the way 🎃! My birthday is in October and I officially turned the corner onto 34th Street this year. Maybe this will be a year for miracles. If so, I wonder what.

I have always loved the color and the crispiness we get here in the northeast during October, the briskness that’s not quite cold, the crunchy leaves underfoot, the spooky decorations haunting lawns and peering out of windows, and the general sense of festivity in the air. The holidays are upon us once more and soon it will be cold for real. October is for adjusting to the change in temperature, for settling in, for balancing the remaining sunny, warm afternoons with the early, chilly nights. October is nesting season. Usually, at least.

This October, we spent many of our weekends traveling up to New England. From Massachusetts to Rhode Island to Maine to New Hampshire, we earned new landmarks on the Merritt Parkway, 84, and 495. We learned what routes we preferred and which we didn’t between the options accessible by the GW Bridge and the new Tappan Zee and bypassed towns we planned to visit, but have still never really seen (cough– Hartford), in the spirit of making a greater dent in our journey onwards or home.

MOBA

Back in the summer of 2022, while on a trip in Quebec City, we saw promotional banners for a visiting exhibition of something called “MOBA”. MOBA, we learned, is an acronym that stands for The Museum of Bad Art. I remember sitting in the lobby of L’Observatoire de la Capitale scrolling MOBA’s Facebook page and trying to contain my snickering as we waited out a rainstorm. We looked up where the museum was and learned it was housed inside Dorchester Brewing Company in Dorchester, MA. We did not make it to the traveling exhibition in Quebec on that trip, but regretted it and planned to pay a visit to Massachusetts in the future to peruse the collection.

Poster for the 2021 MOBA Exhibit in Quebec City, on Display at Dorchester Brewing

Fast forward to earlier this October when we pulled into the parking lot of Dorchester Brewing Co. It looked like your standard brewery tasting room from the outside, with the added bonus of upstairs, outdoor seating where patrons were enjoying some sunshine and brews. I still did not know exactly what to expect once we got inside. How prominently would the bad art be displayed? Had this pilgrimage to the industrial outskirts of Boston been worth the journey and the years spent building the place and the concept of its hilarity up in our minds?

In a word? Yes.

We ordered a beer flight from the bar once we got inside. As we waited for our beers, I could already see some masterpieces peeking out from the walls and the stairwell beyond. I was excited to read the little descriptions beside each piece, detailing how they were acquired by the museum.

Before perusing the collection, we enjoyed our drinks en plein air in the brewery’s outdoor tasting area, with a view of Boston. The bartenders came around and let us know that the area would soon be closing for a private event, so we made our way inside and got to spectating. We started in the stairwell and studied pieces such as Playing With Mommy’s Shoes, Fat Cat, and George and Jackie.

Downstairs, we delved deeper into the hallowed halls of Dorchester Brewing Co.’s priceless collection. Sure, you may have studied Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. You may have even marveled at Michelangelo’s famed Sistine Chapel ceiling in person; I certainly have. But I ask you, have you really lived if you have not come face to face with the frazzled muse forever captured in the mesmerizing Night in Crestwood? I think not, my friends. I think not.

We savored the weird and the over-valued on display, exactly the right clientele for this sort of establishment. We laughed at captions such as that for Baby Aladdin which stated that the piece was donated to the collection by someone who had found it in her apartment closet and for A Bird in the Hand which was purchased at a thrift store for $3, though the price on the back of the piece said $700 . In many ways, I enjoyed this museum a lot more than other museums I have visited. There’s a place and an audience for everything, I suppose. We were the audience for this place.

Casco Bay

If someone had told me last Saturday morning that I would eat my first oysters raw, fresh from an oyster farm in the Casco Bay and drive a boat for the first time on the same day– that day, in fact, I would not have believed them. While I usually like new things that I try, I err on the side of hesitancy in trying them. Still, I have some caged brevity that gets me to say a questioning “Yes?” to things that the rest of my brain is like, I don’t know; are you sure? In the words of Mike Birbiglia, “Why would I slide down the slide when I can walk down the steps?”

Our good friend, Stephen, is an avid boater who pursues adventure and fun better than many people we know. When he invited us to come out on his boat for a day exploring out on the water in the Casco Bay while we were all in town for a friend’s wedding last weekend, Mike and I were an enthusiastic we’re in! Stephen and his fiancée, Erika, picked up some lunch for us on the way and we all set out on a journey that would lead me to experience some new first-evers.

We clamped onto Stephen’s oyster farm in the Casco Bay and ate our lunch surrounded by the sparkling water and the multi-colored trees on the shores all around. The sky was a little overcast and the breeze carried on it a chill that nipped at our cheeks and noses. After lunch, Stephen proposed an unconventional dessert option.

“Anybody want to try an oyster?”

“No; that’s ok,” I said.

I don’t know about anybody else, but when I hear myself saying no to trying something new, it sparks an internal conflict spurred by something like disappointment. Live, says the little voice in my head.

“Actually,” I said, “I changed my mind!”

Stephen hauled an oyster basket from the bay into the back of the boat. As a rule, I don’t eat raw seafood, but this seemed like a right place, right time sort of situation and Stephen has the kind of enthusiasm for his hobbies and business endeavors that is a bit contagious. Stephen selected oysters from the basket for each of us to try and shucked them with a knife on the boat, right there in front of us. Mike explained how to eat oysters to me as I waited for everyone to have a shucked oyster in hand. We toasted with our shells and tossed back the muscles. Chewing on an oyster muscle was a completely new sensation for me. It was different than I expected it would be, never having tried one before, not slimy or gristly like I expected, but rather salty and smooth.

“What did you think?” said the others.

“It’s not what I thought it would be like,” I said, “I think I like it.”

“Want another one?” said Stephen.

“Ok!”

A while later, after exploring the bay with our enthusiastic, local guides, Stephen asked if I wanted to drive us home.

“Captain Beth?” he said.

“That’s ok,” I said.

“It’s really hard to crash the boat,” said Erika.

Oh c’mon, said the voice, Live.

“Ok. I’ll try it.”

I got behind the wheel and played Erika’s words over in my head as Stephen showed me how to bring the boat to a plane. Eep! Too fast! It took a little while to feel more comfortable with the throttle and soon I was steering somewhat comfortably as Stephen navigated the depth-finder, pointing out the reds and the greens to look out for in the distance.

Migis Lodge

I never went to sleepaway camp as a kid, but I had the pleasure of “going away to camp” this past weekend while we were up in Maine for our friends’ wedding. My own experience of camp up until last weekend was day camp. I went to day camps as a kid. I worked at a day camp right out of high school. I even met Mike while we were both summer camp counselors. In this particular way, in my own experience, camp and romance go together. So, really, what better venue for a wedding?

Migis Lodge is a beautiful camp-style event venue and hotel situated on the northeast shore of Sebago Lake in South Casco, ME. Our friends designated a few of the guests to be camp counselors and had them styled à la Michael Ian Black in Wet Hot American Summer to greet and announce the arrival of the “campers” to the property as we all waited for our cabins to be ready. We noshed on some lunch of sandwiches and cold salads while our hilariously dressed friend, Kay, abused the power of her little megaphone just the right amount.

Though Migis Lodge is definitely more of a camp for adults, it still tickled my sense of nostalgia spurred by movies I grew up with like The Parent Trap, Heavyweights, and Troop Beverley Hills. I was finally at sleepaway camp with my friends and our friends were getting married! Yay! The weather was only residually damp and a little chilly, but altogether pretty nice and we were in a really beautiful place. What more could you want out of a weekend? The seven plus hour drive from New Jersey was beyond worth it for this destination, wedding aside.

We’re back home in New Jersey for this beautiful Halloween, the calm after a surprisingly impactful storm yesterday that brought flooding, downed trees, power outages, and all-around traffic mayhem to our area. Today, there’s peace, a turquoise Atlantic, and a cerulean river. The sun is shining and there are clouds in the sky that would be worthy of adorning Andy’s bedroom walls in Toy Story. A speedboat planes on the waves, parallel to the shore, trailing a white tail in its wake and I am typing the last few words of this post with a fresh cup of tea in my very near future.

This October’s been one for the books and I’m looking forward to our next far-reaching adventure in November. In the meantime, I wish you all a happy Halloween! Have fun, be safe, and live well. Thanks for reading!

Cozy Posts

Stormy October Morning

Beth DeFries1 Comment

Hello, dear readers, dear friends. It’s been a little while since I’ve written here and I thought I’d draft a snippet of a picture for you all of a cozy, little morning on this stormy, October day. I invite you to bundle up in a big, comfy sweatshirt or a warm sweater and imagine yourselves drinking something rising with swirls of steam that warm your cheeks, the ceramic of your mug pleasantly hot against your palms and fingers as you join me on the big, blue couch. Help yourself to a squashy pillow for your back or a warm throw for your lap. Kick off those shoes, put your feet up, and get yourselves nice and comfy.

The wind howls outside and the waves of the Atlantic are churned, abundant with choppy white. The branches of the trees dance, the fragile leaves rustle, and the seagrass bows with the occasional strong gust. The bones of our home creak with each brace against the elements, sheltering us well from the storm as we look on from our perch, set high in the hill.

Inside, the lamps are glowing, casting little pools of gold in the corners of the room. The curtains are open to take in the view of the gray, blustery day outside- a Nor’Easter, in fact, a storm not bad enough to have a name, but a storm no less.

I taste the faint hint of orange peel in my tea and savor the lingering warmth from a hearty breakfast of steel cut oats with peanut butter and maple syrup. Soon it’ll be time to reheat the kettle. Would you care for a cup? Tea, hot cocoa, coffee perhaps? How do you take it? Milk? Sugar? Cinnamon?

Today calls for reading, don’t you think, something inviting and adventurous. I’ll pick a book or maybe two from the wooden shelf stocked with favorite reads, family photos, handmade pumpkins, and the little, wooden chess board that my dad made. Where shall we venture today, friends? I’m favoring a visit to the Burrow, myself, I think. I slide Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets off the shelf and flip to page 32 for a healthy little dose of cozy.

I’m a skip ahead-er when it comes to my favorites, finding the scenes that evoke a sense of comfort for me. Any other skip ahead-ers here with me on the big blue couch this morning? What are you reading today? Where are you off to in the imaginary world? Who are you off to see? To meet?

The rain drip, drip, drips from the door overhang outside and the neighbor’s coffee pot bubbles next door. I still miss the sound in my own kitchen some days.

I imagine the deer, who often visit, sheltered from the wind this morning, huddled and warm somewhere beneath a colorful arbor of branches, enjoying a breakfast feast of lingering greenery and late blooming flowers, undisturbed by people.

I’m headed to the Shire next to savor some peaceful nature, myself. It feels like a good time to pay another visit to a merry band of sweet, brave hobbits I’m acquainted with as they embark on an adventure that I’m absolutely certain will be bigger than four little hobbits could ever possibly anticipate, while somehow being just the right size, all the same.

You are welcome to linger as long as you like. Don’t mind me. I’ll just be nestled over here in the crook of the long, cozy seat of the big, blue couch with some squashy pillows for company, wandering another world for little whiles at a time.

Cozy Posts · Poetry

Comfort on the Homefront

Beth DeFries1 Comment

A cozy, quiet evening,

swallowed early by the dark;

there’s bluegrass in the speakers

and a distant twilight bark.

Arrivals sail across the sky,

bound for Jamaica, Queens.

There’s comfort on the homefront;

it felt right to set the scene:

pumpkins by the TV,

cards upon the shelf,

socks with knitted patterns,

and a mug to warm myself.

Dinner’s fast approaching

and there’s pinot noir to share.

There’s comfort on the homefront

and I thought I’d bring you there.

Cozy Posts

October Postcard

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

It’s October-proper October, with its changing colors, crunchy leaves, and clouds that paint a gray scale on the sky like an art class assignment with splashes of periwinkle where the colors got too mixed. The heat’s still off, but there’s a chill inside that calls for tea and so, I’ll put the kettle on. This morning feels Darjeeling-y to me or “Darling”-y as my friend Kelsey might say, so a darling morning it shall be.

I’m drowning in an old sweater, but it’s a favorite so it still felt right to choose it from the drawer this morning and pull it on, familiar in its soft feel and deep orange hue. Today needs to be an editing day for a second draft of a play that I don’t know what to do with once it’s finished which is why it is not finished and such a day calls for being cozy. The writing is the part that I understand. The rest is a learning process that feels like school on a day there’s a test I didn’t study for. The words are out of my head and that was the point. Any other points that follow are just gifts as far as I am concerned.

I’ve always loved October. October is for reading and Crock-Pot dinners and long hikes along crisp trails. It’s for writing about color and family and mysterious goings-on. It’s for sweatshirts on the beach and cold sand under bare feet. And this particular October, I turn thirty-three, a number I have no notions about whatsoever, a number that just is, and that’s alright with me.

Thirty-two was good and great and fine, challenging and interesting, awkward and confident, revelatory and strong. It was a year for change and writing, for spontaneous adventure and wanderlust, for mindset shifts, new wheels, and a new reflection.

There were strengthened ties with acquaintances that became friends, dinners and drinks and walks, belly laughs, and little smiles. And now it’s October again, another year around the thermonuclear reactor nearly complete and only life to show for it.

It’s hard to keep up with everyone and that’s part of why I write posts like this here. For the ones who have kept up, you’ve kept me from the lonely side of writing and there are not enough thank yous for that. For the ones who haven’t so much, I hope you are all well and I’d love to hear from you sometime, no matter how long it’s been.

My friend, Katherine, sends me postcards from her travels and last week I found Edinburgh sitting right there in the mailbox. I read her words in her handwriting and enjoyed the little excerpts of her trip. To me, it doesn’t really matter what picture adorns a postcard; recent ones always go on the fridge- words out. Handwritten mail is special and is protected from minimalism in my house. A friend’s handwriting and their carefully chosen words are connections to be valued; they are love and thoughtfulness in written form. It has me thinking it’s been a while since I’ve written a card just because and, who knows, maybe October will be a month for some snail mail.

Cozy Posts

Morning Pumpkins!

Beth DeFries1 Comment

Good morning friends! I am waking up slowly this morning with some breakfast and coffee. The plan is to just have a lazy weekend since the next few weekends are going to be busy. I am thinking we might do a puzzle and go for a walk, but any ambitions beyond those are yet to be named, or not be named.

While there is a little bit of summer left, I am starting to feel ready for fall and have been eyeing the weather each morning in hopes of some version of chilly at some point in the day, with no luck yet. My sweaters are still folded in my seasonal clothing bin in the closet but they have been looking at me through the clear plastic each time I go to pull a sleeveless top off a hanger. I see you sweaters and we will be together again soon, but right now, it’s just too hot.

Fall can be a tempting shopping season, especially if you are a person who loves to wear sweaters or are cozy-obsessed (like me!) and I find storing seasonal items away can help them feel almost new when it’s actually weather-appropriate to wear those items or seasonally appropriate to display them around your home. These days, fall advertising begins in July and bombards our attention through November, overlapping with Christmas starting in October and sometimes even earlier.

Seeing fall items on display in stores or in digital ads entices us to fill our homes with earthy tones and orange pillows and blankets and put pumpkin-inspired everything everywhere from inside to outside to in our coffee cups. From interior décor to exterior décor to Halloween costumes to specialty seasonal drinks, it’s hard not to lose some pretty pennies to the season in the process of cozifying.

When we lived in New York, I didn’t have specific fall décor. Our whole apartment was aesthetically warm and decorated with rich colors, cozy lighting, and a long red brick wall. It looked ready for fall more than it did any other season all year round, so there was just no need for additional décor.

When we moved to the shore and switched out our red brick wall for light tan ones, our railroad layout for a wide open space twice the size, and our view of the building across Union Avenue for a view of the Atlantic Ocean, summer took over the interior design scheme. When fall rolled around, I was tempted to put pumpkin things in my home. Our full collection of designated fall décor fits in a shoebox on the top shelf of the linen closet and consists of two small wooden pumpkins and one little fabric one that I thrifted, two hand-crocheted pumpkins – one my friend from work gave me and one my cousin made with my late Nana’s yarn, and a cozy fall candle that another cousin gifted to me for my birthday last year.

All but the candle, which I think may be hiding in with the Christmas stuff

Keeping seasonal and holiday décor manageable can be difficult and keeping it minimal can be even harder. Though we only have a small amount of fall items, they give our living space that seasonal oomph needed to get me in the cozy spirit. Our fall display, if you could even call it that, doesn’t extend beyond the living room, but for me, that’s enough, and the fact that it takes about five minutes to set up and put away is something I’m very happy with.

I prefer to bring fall into our house with baked goods, hearty meals, and October beers or to get outside wrapped up in a sweater to enjoy the crisp weather and abounding seasonal activities in the Northeast. Fall is also the season where my Harry Potter obsession shows in a big way and while Mike would prefer to not watch Harry Potter movies or do Harry Potter puzzles, he’s a good sport about it, but I’ll save that obsession for another post.

Now it’s time to choose a summery puzzle and let you all get on with your weekend. Thanks for reading and hope that wherever you are, you are able to add a little bit of cozy to your day!

Grim Grinning Ghosts in Turtlenecks
Cozy Posts · Nostalgic Posts

Grim Grinning Ghosts in Turtlenecks

Beth DeFries2 Comments

Happy Halloween cozy does it community! After over a week of constant cloud cover, intermittent torrential downpours, and wind gusts, the sun is peeking through the clouds on this chilly Halloween morning. We missed the vibrant colors of fall while they were still pinned to the tree branches and now the ground is covered with unsatisfying, soggy crunchiness like stale potato chips from a bag you forgot you’d opened and chip-clipped, then revisited a few days later.

As my first fall here was not all I dreamed in would be, I find myself turning to attempts to simulate that crisp coziness I am eager to fulfill. Wooden and fabric pumpkins garnish our white and tan television stand – a little twinkle of autumn hygge added to our regular minimal décor. A mug of chai with steamed milk is never far from reach and a hearty pot roast dinner is curating magically in the Crock Pot as I type by the window in one of our outdoor chairs which has moved inside for the off-season.

Earlier, I announced to Mike that I was going to get dressed after which I changed from my “yoga” pants to different “yoga” pants (I don’t yoga) and a layered turtleneck/sweatshirt combo, a la 1990s trend.

I actually think of Halloween whenever I don an article of clothing over a turtleneck, as I know many other American 90s girls do. As a 90s lady child, the turtleneck was a versatile, core fashion staple in my wardrobe along with “stirrup pants”.

Stirrup pants: leggings that pull themselves down as you move around due to the convenient elastic band wrapped around the arch of each of your feet.

In case you were not aware, the turtleneck and stirrup pants were classic additions to any costume that didn’t appropriately suit an American 90s girl’s age or the Halloween forecast. Princess Jasmine? She 100% wore a white turtleneck under her turquoise bikini top in the movie, right? The Little Mermaid? Even under the sea, the look was all the rage. Ballerina or Sky Dancer? Time to break out the full set: a pink or white turtleneck and pink stirrup pants. Any Disney princess for that matter – I’m sure detailed in their original fairytale version as wearing a white, cotton turtleneck – was fair game with the right staple accessories paired.

In my adult life, Halloween has become synonymous with (family-friendly) spooky movie classics, a la Tim Burton, Harry Potter, or the Disney Channel Original variety. Sometimes I switch it up with a Halloween Parks and Rec or Psych tv episode. I cannot watch movies that are actually scary (here’s looking at you “I Am the Pretty Thing that Lives in the House”). Even the trailers freak me out for days…

No, I’d much rather bake something pumpkin-y or nutmeg-y (or both) and sit back with a nice crisp Sam October. I may take part of this cold Halloween day to read something spooky or magical. I might opt to flip through the crispy pages of a Harry Potter book, jumping straight into my favorite chapters which usually involve time spent at Ron’s family home, The Burrow, or one of the grand and mystical Great Hall feasts, or a getaway to The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade.

It is still fall and while not as colorful, crispy, and crunchy as I hoped it would be, I am determined to bring some coziness to our home and to our activities this season. We have a lineup of jigsaw puzzles in our seasonal dugout and a bright, sunny day to lift our spirits. If you are braving going out for any All Hallows Eve activities tonight, watch out for other spirits lifting as they may not be as cozily intentioned.

Boo!

Sirena
Health & Lifestyle

Sirena

Beth DeFries1 Comment

This morning, it’s time to dust off those keyboard cobwebs and get some words down. Since my last post, the temperatures in our corner of New Jersey have been cooling on a slow simmer, seasoned with a pinch of chill and a splash of crispness. The daylight hours have a bluer tinge and grow more fleeting with late September’s progression. The trees have started pulling out a few of their fall colors from vacuum-sealed space bags in Mother Nature’s walk-in closet and the crowds no longer flock to the beaches down the shore.

When people think of the fall season, I assume many do not associate it with the beach. I, however, do, and am particularly excited to be reacquainted with fall at the shore this year.

Ever since my mom’s family starting renting the family shore house during the off season for the past I – lost – count – how – many years, I have been nostalgic for the empty beaches that result from the change in season, the expansive shoreline carpeted in cold sand, littered with the treasures of washed ashore sand dollars, backdropped by the dunes’ mountainous terrain, a fortress to hold back the salty tides during storms.

The shallows are warmest now, in early fall, after cooking under the hot sun throughout the summer months. Jelly salps dot the shoreline like sparkling, solid bubbles and the towel and umbrella colonies and impromptu nerf football games have vanished until Memorial Day Weekend. The crowds are gone and peace settles heavy on the sand, adjusting the arms of its Tommy Bahama beach chair until the back is at a comfortable angle.

And once fall is settled on the shore and summer put to rest in a storage bin with its corresponding seasonal items, it is time to allow the crash of the waves and whispering pull of the tide to echo as it reverberates off the dunes. It is time to let the sirenas’ sea song surround you, an intimate audience, in a fluid turned dissonant composition, mystifying and overwhelming in its power.