summer staycations

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My GOODNESS, you guys, these past few weeks have been jam packed with travel, family time, homework, teaching, picnicking, kickboxing, yoga-ing, sunset-chasing, sweating, firework-watching, and a teeeeensy bit of sleeping, just for good measure. I know I say this about every season of life, but July is truly proving to be one of the busiest yet.

Since I’m busy teaching at the FBP Summer Dance Intensive and a few other summer workshops around the area this month, I’ve sticking close to home with some fun New England jaunts between homework cram sessions. A little round up of seasonal spots to match this smorgasbord of photos, if you’re interested…

Watch Hill for a beach day, a glass of rosé at Olympia Tea Room, and a sunset.

Little Compton for the cutest general store, massive waves, and a nostalgic private(ish) beach.

York, Maine for family dinners, lighthouse jogs, and watching a little bug dig holes at the beach.

Boston for Fourth of July fireworks, Turkish breakfast, serene museum visits, massive vegan salads, and yes, another long walk on the beach.

Providence for proper Prospect Park picnicking and catching up with best friends.

boat house love

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blue glass

blue china

blue sky

blue sea

a long weekend for lobster

and a fluffy dublin tea

late night whisky scrabble

leaks into breakfast babble

sticky griddle we will dabble

breakfast for dinner, dialogue for dessert

warm wood surrounds us

empty space confounds us

still this young love abounds us

drowns us, pouring over every day

with

nutella lips

ginger sips

goosey quips

my person sticks

to yours like beans 

bean legs

soda breads

looking out

where the ocean ends

tiny hands

frozen sands

perfectly aimless

weekend plans.

wedding bells

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Last weekend my big brother got married in the best little beach town.  We sang, we danced, we frosted cake and we clinked Cliquot.  I got to see my whole family at once and dance with my dad sweetheart style.  All of my best friends made it up for the occasion, and together we filled our beach house with belly laughs and bacon breath.  It was the perfect exclamation point on a truly memorable summer.

 

Eighth photo by Michael Collins.

 

 

b e a u m e n t s

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How was your Memorial Day weekend?

A (WHOLE) lot of friends and I trekked up to York, Maine for a healthy (this adjective is debatable) dose of sunshine and vodka.  There were family breakfasts, countless word games, happy hour bites, chess tournaments, moscow mules, skeeball marathons, homemade tacos, swimming, fancy kettlecorn…are you sensing a theme yet?

Apparently we enjoy food and games.  Of course none of us would be able to enjoy said food and games – or wake up in Vacationland – without the bravery of those for which Memorial Day stands.  It feels inappropriate to wish someone a happy Memorial Day, but I do hope that you had the chance to steal at least one moment away for a game and a laugh, and when you did, I hope you were able to reflect on the price of that moment.  Freedom is anything but free, and I am so very grateful to those far braver than I who defend it.

To one purple heart in particular, I am sending thanks and love always.

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photo of guitar by Michael Collins.

proof of my existence as a child, photographer unknown. (but I’d be willing to bet it was Gma)

calling all mainiacs

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If you ever find yourself forced to cancel a weekend in Vegas per the recommendation of your doctors for the healing of 3 different itises, I highly recommend getting your generous* boyfriend to drive you to your happy place, pour a glass of wine**, and exhale.

In my case, that happy place is my family’s beach house in York, Maine.  The spanning windows, sprawling couches and calming waves never cease to reset my conflicted soul.  With a little help from the (gooftastic) powers of modern medicine, we explored a bit of downtown Portland (apparently putting mashed potatoes in donuts is a very good idea), had whisky drinks in a church-turned-bar (mine was called the Enlightenment, har har), and admired the city’s impeccable signage.  Curious about potato donuts?  Get the maple.  Also the sweet potato ginger and/or the chai.  It’s a Maine thing, go with it.  Skeptical of pushing past the big red doors of what appears to be a fully functioning church when you’re simply seeking snacks?  Go on in, the circular bar and original stained glass windows will astound you.

If donuts and drinks don’t cure your swollen toes, try a therapeutic walk in the sand.  Collect some sea glass, find a heart-shaped rock, get some vitamin d.  Still sore?  Slip some chicory into your tea.***

Before heading home the next night, M and I watched the sun set over Portsmouth, New Hampshire, another little maze of businesses with notably attractive signs.  It was cold, I was tired, we could not find a restaurant to sit down in…but we held hands the whole time so none of this mattered.  Okay, this was my best attempt at writing a non-gushy post about what was, in reality, a mushy, gushy, swoon-worthy weekend during which my best friend became my best best friend.  Is that a thing?  Was this too much?  Disclaimer: If you answered No then Yes, do not read on.

 

*bonus points if he’s also tall, handsome, and willing to piggyback you when need be ;)

**don’t forget to sniffy sniff, swish, and spit.  Thanks Gary! (or is it Frank?)

***mix 1-2 shots with Trader Joe’s chai in a K cup mug.  Sip, sip, kiss, repeat.

 

photos of me by Michael Collins

golden october

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Indirect routes up my homestate, through towns I’ve never seen. IMG_3353

 A nostalgic first stop- witches, stitches, ships and caffeine. IMG_3334Salem in a sun shat, painted trees and paper signs- so many people packed in a little pig’s eye.

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Up the colonial coast, now pig’s fly- through magic houses in my blue beach town.
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 A feast of fall, friends and euphoria steals the season’s final bow.IMG_3439IMG_3440 2

forest lights

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Last weekend, a group of friends and I headed up to Acadia National Park in Maine for a little camping adventure before work begins and reality takes its firm grip once more.  We really lucked out with our timing, since September is technically off-season for the park, but our weather has been having a hard time saying goodbye to summer.  We had the whole campsite to ourselves, which meant there was plenty of opportunities for “zen wheelbarrowing”, telling inappropriate loud jokes by the fire, and early morning jogs through the woods for one of our campers, who was super chilly without a sleeping bag that first night.

Although we climbed (scaled) some of the tallest mountains I’ve ever hiked (ran) up, bringing me one step closer to mastering that fear of heights, standing at the top of Bumblebee Mountain was not the most notable moment of the trip for me.  On our first night in Acadia, we, rather randomly, decided to walk over to the seawall and do some stargazing, all 7 of us.  As we shifted our backs around on the bumpy rocks, looking for a place to nestle our heads, Kevin noticed a bright light on the horizon.  We sat up and the light rose with us, as if craning it’s big eyes over the ocean to get a look at us.  No one spoke.   The light grew wider, inching up out of the ocean a bit further, and altogether, silently, we all realized what we were seeing, though I’m not sure any of us believed our eyes.   Could we really be witnessing a moonrise in Acadia?  The just slightly waning moon revealed more of its face to us, with eyes now peeking out behind the sparkling black cloak of the sea.  The more the moon appeared, the faster it rose, as if gaining its confidence from our wide-eyed awe.  When it finally cut its ties with it’s reflected twin in the water and hung freely among the stars, we all started breathing again.

That accidental moonrise viewing, over the ocean in the completely clear-save-the-stars sky over Acadia, with 6 of my best friends, is an experience I will cherish forever.  Just 4 minutes of pure natural beauty, a serendipitous gift from the universe, just for us.

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