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thetriggeredhappy · 3 years

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day 1 let’s fuckin’ go. everyone listen to butterflies by samsa

Day 1: Pursuit

“You seriously don’t have any better games than this?” Scout complained, looking back down at the board, doubtful. “Not even, like, a deck of cards? To play poker or somethin’?”

“Rather not play two-person poker, and I don’t like gambling anyways,” was Sniper’s reply, not glancing up from shuffling the cards.

“I mean, maybe Go Fish then, or Old Maid, or—or somethin’, not fuckin’… Trivial Pursuit.”

Sniper seemed to mull that over for a moment. “If you don’t want to play,” he started to say, hesitant, and Scout sputtered to cut him off before he could finish that thought.

“I, I mean, I didn’t say that,” he managed, still half-glaring down at the board. “Just, y’know.”

Sniper probably didn’t know, actually. Truthfully, Scout wasn’t much for… book smarts type games. Games that needed quick reflexes, talking quickly, theatrics, those he was a champion at besides his eternally bad luck, but facts and numbers and geography? Those he tended to sort of… fuck up beyond recognition. And he really, really didn’t want to look like a complete idiot in front of Sniper.

Kind of the worst case scenario, actually. But the worse worst case scenario was driving the guy away before even getting to hang out with him, here, the first time he’d ever agreed to one of Scout’s dozens of proposed hangouts.

Hell, he’d honestly gotten used to Sniper always saying no. ‘Nah’ and ‘Not this time’ and ‘Afraid not, sorry mate’ were three phrases Scout had heard at least three and four times a week for months, now. He’d started brushing right through it, stopped letting it hurt his feelings even, although he couldn’t help but get his hopes up, still. Invitations to team drinking nights and poker parties and carpooling with the guys to the movies or a bar or a casino, or more overt invitations to listen to new albums or go out to get fast food or to fairs or to concerts, he’d long since gotten used to those standard, polite rejections.

So he was surprised, then, when he’d delivered his offhanded invitation—“Hey, Snipes, all the other guys bailed on the rec room game night tonight, you wanna be there anyways?”—he hadn’t expected Sniper to hesitate for a few seconds before shrugging and saying sure.

Hell, he was halfway through his ‘yeah no problem no worries man’ before he even realized Sniper said yes, then it was fumbling the whole rest of the way.

Better to be an idiot friend than a distant acquaintance, maybe. That’s what he told himself.

A brief mumbled rundown of the rules went in one ear and out the other as he got preoccupied with looking over one of the cards, mind boggled by what the hell the letters and colors were supposed to mean. A short summary was nodded at vaguely, and apparently his poker face had been terrible all along, because Sniper shrugged and said that they could just play first to six questions right and tally up wins from there. Then they rolled a dice and Sniper, apparently, would go first.

“Alright, uh,” Scout said, squinting down at the little card. “What does a… he-leo-logist, study?”

Sniper thought about it for a second. “Er… the sun,” he replied.

“Yep,” Scout nodded, nudged a piece towards him. Sniper took it. “So, uh, you go again?”

“Yeah. Er… geography, this time,” Sniper mumbled, shuffling some pieces around in a way that probably made sense to people who actually knew how this board game worked.

“Sure. What’s… the country that has South America’s highest and lowest points?”

Another pause. “Bloody… Argentina, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Damn. Okay, next one,” Scout said, less concerned about the fact that Sniper was doing well and more worried at the fact that he was gonna do awful.

“Geography again,” Sniper determined.

“What natural… breakwater, is off the north… eastern, part of Australia?” he read, a little stilted, squinting at the letters, like that would help, for once. Silence, for a pause, then for longer. Scout breathed an internal sigh of relief, smiling a little. “C’mon, it’s your own fuckin’, uh… country, continent, thing, isn’t it?”

“It’s both,” Sniper said, and paused. “It… it’s not talking about the bloody, er… Solomon Islands, is it?”

“Great Barrier Reef,” Scout replied.

Sniper muttered a swear. “Overthought it,” he sighed, nudging the dice over to Scout, who rolled it. Sniper glanced at the number, moved the pieces, looked at a card. “Right. What craft uses a… kiln, and a kick wheel?”

Scout could’ve cried. “That’s, uh, pottery, sculpting,” he said, relieved.

A nod from Sniper, a piece scooped onto his side of the table, the dice rolled a few seconds later when he realized he was supposed to do that. “How many colors are in the rainbow?” he asked next.

Scout had to count off on his fingers for a second. “Uh, seven,” he said, and fist-pumped when Sniper nodded, scooping up another piece. “Even though it’s, uh, kinda bullishit. There should be six.”

Sniper’s eyebrows ticking up in confusion probably was a sign he should drop it, but instead he found himself spouting off.

“Because, uh, like, y’know, there’s—there’s the kinds of colors, right?” he said, backpedaling at his response of furrowed eyebrows. “Like, the basic ones, the, uh, primary colors, that’s red and yellow and blue, y’know? And then the other three, that you get from mixing those, like, uh, red and yellow is, uh… is orange, and then like, green, and purple, you combine ‘em, right?”

Sniper nodded slowly after a moment.

“But then you got, uh, fuckin’… indigo. In the, uh, in the list of colors, fuckin’, Roy G. Biv? Red orange yellow, green, blue indigo violet? And I know it’s, like, blue and dark blue, but I think that still sucks. If we’ve got indigo we’ve gotta have like, the other in- between guys. Know what I mean?”

“Don’t have much of an opinion on it, but, sounds like you’re making points,” Sniper said, and Scout shrugged, glanced down at the table, tapped his fingertips against his knees out of sight to try and let out some nervous energy. “Bloody, er… your turn, or mine?”

“Uh, mine,” Scout said, scrambling to roll the dice.

“Right. Sorry. Er…” Sniper read over the card. “Patron saint of Scotland?”

Scout swore under his breath, deflating a little, coming up blank. “Uh… hey, Demo!” he called, and heard a vague ‘aye’ from the kitchen. “Who’s the patron saint of Scotland?”

“My mum,” Demo called back, and Sniper snickered, at least, which softened the blow to Scout’s confidence considerably.

“Ah, fuck off,” Scout called back, and looked back at Sniper, smiling. “Saint Scrumpy, fuck, I dunno.”

“Saint Andrew, apparently,” Sniper shrugged, rolling the dice. “Sports question. The orange one.”

Scout tried to read the question before starting to say anything out loud, and found himself completely lost anyways. “Who was the first… Ch—Check-uh-slavarian… to win, the… Wimbleton…”

“No idea,” Sniper said outright, shaking his head at himself. “Don’t follow, er… what, the Olympics?”

“Tennis, I guess,” Scout shrugged, rolling the dice.

“Sports for you too. What did… bloody hell. What did second baseman Bill… Wambsganss, do all by himself in the, er… 1920 World Series game?”

“Oh, shit,” Scout laughed, “guy did, like, a triple play, and then hit into a double later that same game. That was the year some guy got hit in the head with a ball and fuckin’ died.”

Sniper was staring at him, clearly shocked.

“What?” Scout asked, rolling the dice. “I know baseball. And it was a whole thing.”

Sniper seemed to shrug it off, shaking his head. “What’s the Taj Mahal made of?”

“Fuckin’, I dunno, chocolate? What, that some kinda dessert? What’s that?” Scout scoffed, trying to play it off.

“It’s… it’s a place. Looks a bit like a castle? Like, er, like the Eiffel Tower, or Big Ben, tourist sort of thing?” Sniper tried, and Scout shrugged, and he shrugged back, rolling the dice. “Fair enough. One of the, er, Science ones. Green one.”

Scout looked at the card for a few seconds. “I… dunno how to say this word. Glue… glay… what’s that?”

Sniper leaned over, and Scout turned it towards him. “Glaucoma. Hits your eyes,” he said, and Scout nodded, and he took a piece, rolled again. “Brown one.”

“What are… catalogued, under the Dewey decimal system?” Scout asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Books, library books,” Sniper mumbled.

“Jesus, are you—where’s the mirrors, seriously? How are you doing that?” Scout asked, and Sniper huffed something like a laugh, taking the piece, rolling again. “No, no, seriously. How the hell do you know half of these?”

“Geography, blue,” he prompted.

“Alright, I swear to god.” Scout held the card close as he read it, first to himself, then out loud. “What national capital is heated by underground hot springs?”

Sniper, to his credit, paused for a moment before answering. “Iceland’s. Reykjavik, it’s called.”

“I swear to god.” Scout flipped over the card, read the answer. “Oh, what the fuck!”

“I’ve bloody been there!” Sniper defended.

“Nah, fuck off, hold on—“ Scout picked up another card, reading another question. “Where in a tree does photosynthesis happen?”

“Leaves.”

“How do you know that so fast!” Scout demanded.

“That’s just science class in school!”

“Fuckin’—who, fuckin’, rode on the raft with Huck Finn?” Scout asked next.

“The, er… runaway, Jim.”

“Oh, what!” Scout all but shouted.

“Scout, I read.”

“Nah, nah, you’re way too good at this game, either you’re like, cheating, or you on purpose picked this game because you’re, like, weirdly crazy good at it or something!”

Sniper’s expression went from amusement to that blankness again, and it only made Scout even more infuriated.

“I mean, seriously, did you pick this game on purpose because you just know all the cards? Did you just wanna do the game where you’d for sure win?” he demanded.

Sniper was fidgeting with his glasses, now, and to be honest, Scout wasn’t even particularly mad, just confused.

“I mean, shit, you’d think you just wanted too play this one so you could look smart and cool and shit like that,” he said. and saw the way Sniper shrank a little, and the lightbulb went off way too late.

A pause.

“Dude,” Scout said, fighting down a laugh.

Sniper mumbled something he didn’t quite hear, sinking in his chair.

“Alright, seriously, if you wanna look smarter than me, you really don’t gotta pull out the trivia questions. Pretty much any game works, you know that, right? I’ll make an idiot of myself playing, like… Uno,” Scout said. Sniper shrugged, still not looking him in the eye. “Okay. Here’s an idea. How about we play, uh… I dunno, Crazy Eights. And while we play I’m gonna keep grilling you on this random trivia shit because seriously, that’s totally nuts, man.”

Sniper hesitated for a few seconds before he finally nodded and straightened up, and in a way, they both won. Scout because he now at least knew he wasn’t the only one who was a total mess and way too worried about what other people thought, and Sniper because he could keep being impressive about random trivia knowledge. Apparently, he knew a bunch about geography and books and nature, and not a single thing about sports.

Scout accused him of trying to memorize the cards. Sniper laughed, properly, for the first time all night.

#sniperscout #speeding bullet #sniperscout ship week #team fortress 2 #tf2 #shut up me #just this once. SNIPER is the dorkass loser

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sitp-recs · 3 years

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hey liv! not sure if you got my prev ask but do you have any fics that feature the boys going to therapy? :’) thanks so much!

Hi anon, I’m sorry for the late reply! To answer your first ask, I can’t say I’ve ever read anything like By the Grace - that fic is really the best, most sensitive take on therapy I’ve seen so far. This is not a trope I read very often, but I hope you enjoy these!

Touched by @writcraft (2014, T, 7k)

On the insistence of his parents, Draco begins to see a therapist to discuss his difficulties with physical intimacy. When he changes his appointment time, Draco discovers he’s not the only one seeking assistance as a result of events which occurred during the war and he finds comfort in the most unexpected of places.

The Wheel by lastontheboat (2021, T, 13k)

Harry just wants to return to Auror duty. His therapist wants him to take a beginner pottery course first.

Pure Imagination by @aibidil (2018, T, 15k)

An eighth-year tale of depressed happiness, reluctant imagination, and conflicted hope. And skateboarding.

The Business of Saving Souls by RurouniHime (2011, E, 26k)

Draco's world is filled with ghosts, and not all of them are so easily banished.

On the Couch by Frayach (2014, E, 26k)

It’s a Mind Healer’s worse nightmare to lose a patient to suicide, but Mind Healer Nick Nichols can attest to the fact that a murder/suicide is even worse. If only Dr. Freud had come up with a sure cure for love.

A Piercing Comfort by talithan (2013, T, 44k)

When Harry Potter hits the lowest point of his life so far, it is not his friends who keep him honest. With Draco Malfoy's patience and guidance, Harry learns to stand on his own. The thing is, after the fact—he's no longer sure he wants to.

The Four Doors by @fluxweeed (2020, E, 48k)

It’s been four months since Harry lost his memory. Four months of dead ends and no answers. With time running out until his memories are gone for good, Harry agrees to a course of Legilimency therapy with a renowned specialist: Mind Healer Draco Malfoy.

Chocolate and Pastry by agentmoppet, anemonen (2018, E, 50k)

When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected.

Teenage Wasteland by GallaPlacidia (2020, M, 51k)

Draco never thought he’d end up as the sole guardian of a troubled teenage girl. Harry never thought he’d end up a werewolf. Being twenty-two is hard.

Dragons Don't Know Paradise by @teacup-tai (2020, E, 51k)

In 2004, when Remus spends two scary weeks in the ITU due to complications of pneumonia and his HIV condition, Sirius walks around the house like a ghost and Harry finds comfort and strength in Draco through a chat in an online LGBT forum. Harry falls for him, but Draco has a lot of secrets and, before long, will need to come clean—even if he believes that no one is able to understand a dragon.

Harry Potter and the elusive day off by pleasebekidding (2019, E, 71k)

Auror Potter needs a fucking break. He is wiped. He is exhausted. He probably didn't intend to put himself into a magical coma but these things happen. And who cares, really? He is comfortable in a house where he has hidden away all the shit he can't deal with.

Way Down We Go by @xiaq (2019, T, 110k)

In which Harry and Draco both run away from their pasts and conveniently choose to hide in the same tiny American town. It's super.

Forgive Those Who Trespass by Lomonaaeren (2012, E, 135k)

Harry Potter was convinced he had an ordinary, if inconvenient, life. Then Ron and Hermione vanished in the Department of Mysteries. And the only person who may know where they are is a mute Draco Malfoy. Mind the tags!

The Ordeal of Being Known by louisfake (2021, M, 146k)

When Auror Potter is anonymously cursed with silence by being forced to hide his own voice inside his mind, there's unfortunately only one person in the country with the qualifications to fix it: Certified and Licensed Healer Legilimens, Draco Malfoy, specialist in Mind Curses and Afflictions.

#anon #asks #Drarry reclist #therapy

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heyjehan · 7 years

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even more les amis things

enjolras: only likes one type of coffee from one random coffee shop. most of the time his coffee thermos has apple juice or chocolate milk in it

courfeyrac: a god at hula-hooping. don’t try to challenge him he’s deadass the best at hula hooping

combeferre: probably, 100% knows how to sail. he’s always trying to convince everyone to go with him but literally no one else knows how

grantaire: once was bored in an afternoon and learned how to do calligraphy

jehan: has bought every single yankee candle at least 3 times. his favorites are winter candy apple and pink peony

feuilly: the actually best at hanging up streamers and balloons. he also is the actual best at wrapping presents

bahorel: secretly has a garden where he grows tomatoes and cucumbers and other veggies in his backyard

cosette: is a marine biology major and works at the aquarium and is one of the best tour guides at that aquarium.

marius: a breakfast person. if he doesn’t eat breakfast the rest of his day is ruined (he especially loves pancakes)

eponine: does pottery and even has her own pottery wheel. she makes vases, jars and bowls for her friends that are all customized and they’re just great

joly: collects keychains. his favorite ones are his garfield the cat one that cosette got him for his birthday, and his dallas one eponine got him while visiting a few friends

bossuet: fluent in 3 languages: english, french and german

musichetta: has been in 9 shakespeare plays. some of her roles include: titania (a midsummer night’s dream), olivia (twelfth night), and hero (much ado about nothing)

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thelovelybitten · 6 years

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viv’s romance wish list— ♥️

alright, this is something I’ve been keeping in for a bit because I don’t ever want to be pushy with someone. but for a girl who has literally THE HUGEST imagination every time I have a dream, something new comes along and I’m like: wow. I want us to do that.

If you all don’t know already, I am really in love with this boy. I have faith we’ll last a great while. So while we’re still fresh and new, I have so many things that I want to do with him that I just have to write down for future reference. I’ll reblog this everytime something gets done.

As my boyfriend is extremely shy, this will take a really. Really. Long time. but he’s slowly pushing out of his comfort zone so we’ll see how it goes.

(IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER (besides the first one))

() driving out to a field in the middle of the night and watching the stars covered in blankets and drinking hot chocolate (THIS ONE IS A MUST. NOT AN OPTION THIS IS MY DREAM)

(✅) Couples Costumes

(✅) Zoolights

(✅) Surprise hugs/kisses/affection GOD I WOULD GIVE MY ARM FOR THIS

() baking Christmas cookies !!

() Pottery Painting

(✅) CARVING PUMPKIN

() Drunk Mario Party/Kart WOULD BE HILARIOUS // Sober (✅)

() Halloween/Christmas Movie Marathon

(✅) Cliche Dinner Date

(✅) Movie Date

() Henna Drawing ( THIS WOULD BE COOL !! )

() Birthday Sharing (His Birthday is 8 days from mine)

() Little Surprises of Affection (i said this already but like I sometimes think of him and get coffee he likes or ill make sure he’s got breakfast to eat and a towel to use and just being that mom lol, I just want to be surprised. This is that hardest one to wait for but I can’t wait until it happens OH GOD)

() Go KARTS !!

() Photoshoot days !! (Couples or just me taking photos of him, I don’t care he’s cute)

() Coffeehouse hopping (he’d love this)

() Flowers. Just flowers.

() all the little things that make you think of me (memes, notes, etc)

(✅) ROAD TRIP

() CAMPING

() Swimming in a lake on said camping trip

(✅) New Year’s Eve

() Christmas

(✅) Valentines Day (I have a Guard show every year on Valentines Day and all the guard who have boyfriends get roses that day...so if we’re still together then I would like to ask Jesus to push him to get me roses and maybe go for dinner afterwards ?) I WOULD BE SOLD

() One Year Anniversary (if we get there, I hope we do)

() Showing up to my house unannounced one night and just sleeping with me (GOD I WOULD JUST UWU)

() Ferris Wheel cliche (at night or at sunset, bc that’s cute)

(✅) JUMP INTO MY GIANT SWEATER WITH ME IN IT YOU ADORABLE COWARD

() OTHER FUTURISTIC THINGS; (to be announced if all the above goes well)

but yeah. I have a lot of things I wanna do with him. I know it won’t be for a while, but I thought I would just- vomit all this out there bc there is literally not a day that my mind doesn’t think about how lucky I am to have a boy like him in my life. I just want to live my best life with you in it. Even if you don’t end up doing any of these, I love you no matter what. these are just the extra levels in the game of life that serve as bonus points.

But to me, you’re the biggest bonus I ever got. I love you. 💕💕

10/29

#my chat noir ♥️#its a vivs life #viv speaks #GOD THIS WAS ALOT I SPENT 25 minutes TYPING THIS #but seriously i love you so fucking much #and i just UWU whenever youre around #you are my sunshine #BERRY BOY.#☺️☺️☺️#god im love sick someone help me

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longislandweekly-blog · 5 years

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A weekend trip in the new Chevy Blazer

The shapely and sporty 2019 Chevrolet Blazer RS handles like a dream on the winding mountain roads of the Hudson River Valley. (Talisman Photo)

Only a short drive away, the Hudson River Valley boasts beauty and fun all year long. On a recent sisters weekend away, I had the opportunity to spend time in Hyde Park, Stone Ridge, Rhinebeck and other towns in the area and can’t think of a better location for a leisurely getaway. I also had the opportunity to drive Chevy’s new Blazer and can’t think of a better car to explore the artsy, mountainous villages of the Hudson River Valley in.

Our trip began as most road trips do—by loading luggage into the car, or in this case, the stylish crossover SUV. The cargo area of the Blazer is equipped with a rail that slides forward and backward and locks in place. This ingenious feature is great for keeping a suitcase or two in place during a long drive and perfect for keeping grocery bags or sports equipment from rolling around during day-to-day activities.

The Culinary Institute of America’s American Bounty Restaurant serves up charred citrus salad with arugula and endive, turmeric Greek yogurt and an Aperol vinaigrette.

Welcome to the CIA

Hyde Park is known as the hometown of Franklin D. Roosevelt. His Springwood Estate, the FDR Presidential Library and Museum, as well as the Vanderbilt Mansion, are preserved as National Historic Sites just two hours away in Dutchess County. You know what else is just two hours away? The Culinary Institute of America.

The CIA, as it is affectionately known as, is a four-year college and culinary school where the top restaurateurs of the country graduate from. The Hyde Park campus operates four public restaurants, including American Bounty, a contemporary farm-to-table restaurant with a focus on regional ingredients.

The lunch menu features dishes Roasted Sage Kobocha Gnocchi, Charred Citrus Salad and Grilled American Beef Wagyu Culotte, which are as beautiful to the eyes as they are delicious to the taste buds. The desserts—Warm Caramelized Apple, Chocolate Mousse Cake and Tres Leches Panna Cotta—are miniature works of art on a plate.

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Students at the CIA get hands-on experience at the restaurants and are constantly making connections between different areas of study. A student with a background in engineering named Joe sagely related the MAYA principle—Most Advanced, Yet Acceptable—to food design and car design. The father of industrial design Raymond Loewy developed this blueprint for delivering the future gradually and palatably to the masses.

“It’s this idea that the newest best thing that’s going to appeal to the most people is a balance between the furthest you can go without scaring people away,” Joe said. “I’m sure it’s a lot with car design too, the balance between aesthetics and use.”

The Chevy Blazer fits this principle perfectly. Designer Steve McCabe and his team endeavored to edge Chevy design into the future with sporty styling choices not typically seen on SUVs. The design turns heads—in a good way.

Chef Bruce Mattel, senior associate dean of culinary arts at the CIA, also added to the concept of how far one can go with food design.

“If you’re too avant garde with food, some people are going to be intimidated,” he said, and this principle is reflected in the dishes he serves with innovative flavor combinations, a focus on texture interplay and artful plating that enhances the dining experience.

American Bounty changes its menu seasonally. There’s no excuse not to journey there quarterly to check out what new flavors they have in store.

Chill out with a good book or play board games with the other guests at Hasbrouck House in the warm and inviting Club Room. (Photo by Emma Tuccillo/Hasbrouck House)

Home Away From Home

Hasbrouck House has everything you could want in a weekend getaway. Established in 1757, the Dutch Colonial stone mansion is hidden among the trees of Stone Ridge, NY, and offers modern, luxury accommodations in a historic setting.

Guest rooms, lofts and suites are dispersed between the main building, the Stable House and the Carriage House, in addition to a private house called The Cottage. Though featuring the same soothing color palette, rich furnishings, large windows, Frette linens and goose down pillows, no two rooms are alike.

My favorite touches are the in-room Nespresso machines, Aesop toiletries and heated marble floors in the bathroom.

During your stay, I recommend booking an appointment with one of Hasbrouck House’s massage therapists or yoga instructors in the Wellness Room. A yoga session with Pepper will give you the opportunity to check in with yourself and feel more relaxed and renewed than you may have thought possible.

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The 50-acre property contains walking trails down to a private lake. It’s a lovely walk even with snow on the ground to get some fresh air and quietude.

For dining, you need look no further than Butterfield, the in-house restaurant and bar. Ingredients are locally sourced and the dishes epitomize farm-to-table cuisine. Simplicity is key and no more evident than in the shishito peppers appetizer. The tender peppers when blistered and sprinkled with coarse mustard salt are perfection.

After dinner, you can spend some time with a drink by the fireplace in the Club Room, or play a round of pool or darts in the Game Room downstairs. The arcade game machine, loaded with classics like Pac-Man and Asteroids, is a fun bonus. These are the best spaces to interact with other guests of the house.

Every guest is treated like a VIP at Hasbrouck House, a true gem of the Hudson River Valley.

McCabe relates pottery design to car design. (Talisman Photo)

Make your mark

Nearby Rhinebeck has a flourishing arts and culture scene. Dive right in at Hudson Valley Pottery and Ceramics School.

Most of us have worked with clay in elementary school, whether it was making pinch pots or small sculptures. It’s easy to forget how much fun it is unless you’ve gone back to it as an adult and realize that ceramics is as much an art as a craft.

At a class at the pottery studio, we were given a tutorial on hand-building a mug, then unleashed on the clay and tools to bring our individual visions to life. Hand-building is good for beginners, while using the wheel requires more practice and skill. Everyone in the class enjoyed the time spent the studio and look forward to seeing our finished projects post-firing and glazing.

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Though it may seem unexpected, clay is an integral part of the car-design process. Following the initial sketches, clay sculptors make small models of the car. Changes in the surfacing are made and rendered back into a digital form. Later, a scale model is made with clay where designers can see if those lines and curves that looked great on the small model still look great life-sized.

McCabe credits the clay sculptors he works with with making him look good. Curves that read to the consumer’s eye as simple and sleek are actually the result of a complex collaborative process between artists.

McCabe also notes that clay is easy to work with, relatively inexpensive and recyclable, which makes it the perfect material for auto design as well as good choice for a hobby.

Make an appointment at Hudson Valley Pottery for a private lesson, or open studio time if you’ve got some experience under your belt. Judi Esmond and her wonderful staff will help you tap into your creative side.

Lead Creative Designer Steve McCabe highlights unique design features of the Blazer. (Talisman Photo)

Form and Function

‘Form follows function,’ the foundational principle associated with architecture and industrial design that states the shape of a building should primarily related to its intended purpose, can also be applied beyond those fields. In food, the form is the visual and the function is the taste. No chef wants to sacrifice good flavor solely to improve the look of the meal. In pottery, a beautiful-looking mug with an uncomfortable-to-hold handle is not functional for its intended purpose. Examples can be found all around.

The Chevy Blazer sports this principle perfectly in its interior with round vents. According to McCabe, there was a big debate during the design process whether to do a rectangular or a trapezoidal shape, or a round shape reminiscent of the Camaro, which the Blazer was modeled after.

In order to justify using an older vent style, the design team decided to make it functional. The round rim acts as the temperature control, making for an intuitive and slightly futuristic design feature. It was the first thing I noticed when I sat in the driver’s seat—my hand went straight for the vent instinctively.

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“From a styling standpoint, we’ve reached ahead a little,” McCabe said.

The Blazer is offered in the signature model, the sporty RS and, for the more formal buyer, the Premiere.

“The RS captures that sports car personality. We injected that Camaro DNA into it,” McCabe said.

As a young father, he feels he’s created an exciting loophole in the market—a bold, dynamic, responsive sports car with the spaciousness and features of a family-oriented SUV that he’s not ashamed to put a car seat and stroller in.

“I can get the best of both worlds with this vehicle,” he said, another place where form meets function.

Drive around and take in the scenery of the Hudson River Valley. (Talisman Photo)

Exploring The Hudson River Valley

Each hamlet of the Hudson River Valley has a personality all its own. Woodstock’s bohemian spirit is fun to explore. The friendly staff at Hasbrouck House can show you the route that takes you over the Ashokan Reservoir, where you can park the car and take pictures of the scenery.

Fruition Chocolate, which is available at Hasbrouck House, has its storefront on Tinker Street in Woodstock, where you can sample the small batch, handcrafted, bean-to-bar chocolates and bring a few bars home as souvenirs.

Also stop into the Garden Café, a vegan restaurant and juice bar on Old Forge Road, and try the Indian chickpea blinis with cashew date chutney—little savory pancakes packed with flavor that redefine what a pancake can be.

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To get away from it all or get some of that adventure you’ve been craving, spend a day hiking, biking or climbing at Mohonk Preserve. The mission of the sprawling nature preserve is to protect the Shawangunk Mountains region and inspire people to care for, explore and enjoy their natural world.

The Chevy Blazer handles amazingly well on windy, snowy mountain roads and has a tighter than expected turning radius, which stands up to the test on New Paltz’s angular, often one-way, streets.

New Paltz is another fun destination while you’re in the area. Lagusta’s Luscious offers artisanal chocolates in flavors like tahini cream and thyme preserved lemon sea salt caramel, while its sister cafe, Commissary, makes a mean cheese plate.

To cap off the weekend, visit the Samuel Dorsky Museum of Art on the SUNY New Paltz campus. In addition to its permanent collection, works by Angela Dufresne and an exhibition celebrating the 150th anniversary of the founding of Mohonk Mountain House are on display through mid-July.

Spend a leisurely weekend away in the Hudson River Valley. Learn more about the Culinary Institute of America, Hasbrouck House, Hudson River Pottery and the new Chevrolet Blazer, an SUV with the DNA of the Camaro. A weekend trip in the new Chevy Blazer Only a short drive away, the Hudson River Valley boasts beauty and fun all year long.

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mayineverlosethewonder · 5 years

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I don’t know about you but I feeling (not) 22. HAHAHAHA just updated the description from 21 to 22, noooooo. Am aging. Currently at a relaxation trip at jb to kinda chill and commenmorate being 22! Hmmmm I really don’t wanna grow old but oh well. I really love surprizes but I guess as I get older, I kinda just expect lesser and think it’s not much of a big deal anymore. But nonetheless, the friends really knew me well and came over to throw me a surprize HAHAHH it was epic.

Went home after a good hopesem!!! Yes I’m in NT1 and omg I learnt that the bible is meant to be listened and not read actually. That’s damn cool HAHAHA and the actual order of the books that happened is not how it is in the bible?!? Wow. Okay that aside, here’s the joke. During the class, my dad texted me to come home earlier which is Super rare, or it doesn’t even happen, which got me like ?!?!? Cfm there’s something shady going on!!! So I went home and I saw light and in my room and I went like ‘WHO’S THERE?! WHO?!?’ and I even wanted to do a vlog HAHAHAHA then I went on to like ‘OKAY, LET ME GO TO THE TOILET, YOU GUYS CAN WAIT INSIDE.’ so cheong went to the toilet and was like strolling the way into the room and noticed there’s no one at all?!?!? I peeled into every single room and corner and there’s no one. HAHAHAHA. Chocolates were lined into the shape of 22 with a light box on my bed and I was like omg there’s no one?!? Could it be my parents?!?!? and then I got so excited HAHAHAHA context: cause my parents hate surprize, and find my bday a hassle and all. And they actually did that?! So I went all excited and started screaming and insta-ing it and I was even at a (‘: moment. HAHAHAAH when the clock hit 12, the bell rang and omg my friends ran in and like started singing happy birthday and started me on this mission to find 12 envelops around my house. IT WAS HARD AHAHHA and yay we enjoyed amazing cheesecake from the Tokyo Cheesecake Factory thingy, the cake was amazing. And I was like ‘SO THE DECORATION IS DONE BY YOU GUYS?!? NOT MY PARENTS?!?!’ HAHAHAHA and yes, it was done by my friends!!!! They were like even saying maybe they should head home and not spoil my dream LOLOL Even though it wasn’t done by my parents, thanks friends for surprising me (‘: 9 years of friendship and counting !!!! Really thank God for this friendship!

Celebrated the actually bday by doing pottery with Geraldine and I’m glad we did that! Really got a cool perspective of what does it mean when we say God is the potter and we are the clay. Throughout the process, it was like so difficult and there was so much thoughts behind it. Firstly, the clay has to be soften, which includes patting it, building it up gently and pressing it back down? The strength and speed of the wheel also has to be controlled too. After a while, the clay starts to take form and you have to use strength again to shape it and be super careful at the top of it?!? After the whole moulding etc, it has to be placed into the fire, at super high temperature. After that painting and firing again. Tons of stuff HAHAHA but wow. See that details and thought behind the potter. Thinking of what is best for the clay, how he wants to clay to be and in order to form that shape, He has to build it up gently and even crush it down. Very much like how God took the lifeless us, and gave us life and in life, He build us up gently, and gives us test tough moment in order to build and grow us. But through every single moment, His hands are on us, on the clay. It’s really beautiful how, something so meh, so plain, become a unique masterpiece and come to life. God really loves (‘:

Getting a year older and I have kinda thought of what I wanna wish for. I guess I just wanna wish that I would fall deeper in love with Jesus, to really love Him so much more and know Him so much more. May I never lose the wonder. Adding on to that, am praying that as I grow older, may I have more courage and to really live out the conviction, just to step out of the comfort zone and to obey God. Lastly, for the fam to come to know God. All these I lay into Your hands and thank You so much for loving me and for creating me. (‘:

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ultraconezone-blog · 19 years

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Now listen here, I bet you thrott I was dead. Well, I'm not but there have been several points in the last 2 months where I thought I might come close to 6 feet in the ground. There's been terrible losses and glorious gains since this great hardcore rapper shared his life with you. Countless rumors have been spread about the true identity of M.C. Cone; the man, the legend. All that doesn't matter, here comes another glance into the crazy, dizzying world of a moonlighter. To start off, after I got in touch with you in January I went to go visit my cousin, Henry the Homeless Hairbrain. As we all know this is the man that has spent countless years living behind the now unoperating section of Ellis Pottery. Yes, the one that lives under a boat and has a concrete tunnel opening for a doorway. He was always granny's pride and joy. I know he remembers me but everytime I see him he repeatedly asks, "Hey Walter, why'd ya half to kick me in the growin'." Everytime I meet the fellow it never fails, as my students sometimes say, "He talks all kinds of head." That red jeep that almost hit me on New Year's Eve came to visit one night. I couldn't see the driver of the car but he was yelling to the top of his lungs,"come on out you homeless mother..,"(I care not to say the rest). If you're reading this, driver of the ravin' red jeep, I think you have a problem with the grandest MC. We'll settle it the caveman way at Walmart parking lot. After catchin' up with ol' Henry I decided to head out to Hempwallace and try my hand at some straight edge foosball. Out past the Lake Hamilton bridge young boys are trained to be professionals in their diapers. Competition is simply brutal out here, I saw a 14 year old boy go for a triple bar triangular flip kick and lose his arm. Being the exceptional challenger of all trades that Cone the Conqueror is, he rose to the occasion. I hopped up and as I put the ball down on the playin' area, a very short man came up and bit me in a very strategic spot. That's right I was out of the game very early, my opponent literally got rid of me under the table. I went to go hang out with a friend of mine named Cody Rice at OCC. He was telling his little trouble-making friends about the redneck brawl at Hot Springs High School. The boy turned around and was either lookin' at the ground and the ceiling at the same time or me. He slurred, "oh tight, I've got the bag of M& M's just for you." Everyone knows my 2 weaknesses, opens mics and brightly colored chocolate candy. I quickly polished the dozens of nonmelting wonders to a shine. The Sidewinder aka Cody said, "oh no you're gonna be out for days." I thought he meant that the freestylin' genius would be out of his mind from all of the sugar that he consumed. So I slid into the 5 dent dynamo with 3 and one half wheels and sped off. Much to my dismay I found out that the M& M's weren't only the sugary pick-me-up's that I was used to. I was cruisin' and fell asleep while puttin' the pedal to the plastic. My good buddy, the greatest ever school cop, Officer Han was serving and protecting when I came up a hill (post 3 minutes asleep). I kind of put a ding on his deluxe patroller, I still don't know why he hasn't asked me about that, well he will after he reads this. As always all stories end back at the living quarters. With or without the few hours of sleep I lost in the woods behind Hobby Lobby, a really bad bruise in an unmentionable part, or a laced bag of M&M's, I am and will always be M.C. Cone; English Teacher by day and a Hardcore Rapper by night.

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justmypath · 7 years

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Cambodia: day four

We arrived in Phnom Penh, the capital city of Cambodia. It is a large port city with modern buildings interspersed with the old. I had my usual bowl of soup for breakfast, along with rice cakes, fruit and a chocolate filled croissant. We boarded a bus and went to the Killing Fields Memorial. Our guide was Buntha (or “Buddha” – he was a monk for two years and has a shaven head) who shared his personal story of his life during the war. He was 8 years old when he was taken by the military to be “brainwashed” and taught how to be a soldier. His father was a teacher and both parents were killed, along with thousands of other educated and religious people.

We walked past several areas where groups of people were buried. In the center of the park is a memorial structure, which houses the skulls and other bones behind glassed shelves. It was very emotional to hear our guide’s story and see human remains in the open graves.

We returned to the bus and went to the S21 prison buildings. There were three separate buildings, all were divided into small bricked cells to house the “victims”. One building now has photos of those killed in the genocide (there were also photos of a handful of foreigners). At the end of the tour, a survivor was signing autographs of his book and taking photos.

It is very warm today, but the clouds are dark as I write this and maybe there will be rain later.

It was lunch time, and time for a bowl of chicken curry noddle soup. I had vegetable tempura accompanied with a very yummy ponzu dipping sauce. I’ve been eating a lot of fruit: watermelon, pineapple, mango, papaya and Asian pear. Our afternoon excursion was to visit the Royal Palace, a rather small site, compared to other palaces that I’ve been to. The buildings are ornate, but in a simplistic, modest way. There was one main pagoda housing gold items inside and we were only allowed to view it from the door and windows. The ceiling had fresco paintings, it was difficult to see any details, but it looked like heavenly bodies and celestial scenery. We walked around the complex that was filled with different shaped pagodas. There were monks, monkeys, many tourists and sprinkles of rain. Since our guide was a monk, he explained some of the symbolism in Theravada Buddhism: 1) the tile has a pattern shaped like a dharma wheel with eight spokes, representing the eight-fold path, 2) the four truths: dana (giving), forgiveness, wisdom and equanimity, 3) There are many elephant trunks on the roofs, raised upward for good luck. 4) The colors on the buildings: green, blue and yellow represent the monks/religion, the people’s republic and the king. The Buddha is on the main pagoda, faces four directions and sees all.

Our next visit was to the National Museum that houses many antiques, mainly Buddha statues, pottery/vases, and stone carvings. There was a small, pretty central garden. The entire museum was small and we only needed a short time to see it (30-45 minutes).

Young Cambodian children performed for us before dinner, four played instruments and one girl sang, others danced. They performed about five numbers wearing traditional costumes. It was entertaining to watch the young children dance. Many of the children had lost a parent during the war and were taught musical or dancing skills by the organizers of this performance group.

For dinner, the theme was Cambodian food and amouk (a fish stew in coconut milk) was served since it’s the traditional favorite dish. P and J tried the fish cooked with egg and placed into a bamboo leaf basket. I had a wok stir fry beef dish that was very good. J and I had a kabocha (pumpkin) slice filled with mouse plus slightly fried sticky rice covered with sesame seeds for dessert - yum.

After dinner, we walked across the street to the Phnom Penh night market, filled with rows of stalls – clothes, jewelry, bags, shoes, odds and ends; a small food court with tables/benches and mats on the ground to eat picnic-style. The food stalls were selling barbequed skewers, noodle soup, coconut shavings, and tea. We walked through all the rows and returned to the river boat for a good night’s sleep.

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lostinsynapse-blog · 7 years

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Lost In Synapse 1 the origin of clouds

Steve wakes up screaming.

In a dream that parted into mist when his voice ripped through the silence, he is trapped in a coffin of twisted metal and the smell of burning flesh and arcing electricity. It's always the same – an impact that shakes his teeth in their sockets accompanied by the screech of steel pretzeling into labyrinthine structures. He bolts upright in a cold sweat as his shouts peal across the quiet of his bedroom.

What happens next is typical. Honey Girl comes into his room. He knows it's her because she walks across the floor with quick, heavy steps. He also knows it's her because she smells like spearmint. She is startled and concerned, which is also typical. He can tell this by her voice and how she flutters around him with her hands. She tells him “shh” and “itsokay”. This always quiets him. He doesn't remember why. Eventually he'll either get up for the day or go back to sleep, depending on the time. This time, he lays back down and listens to her walk back to her room.

He knows her as Honey Girl for two reasons – she hums while she's helping him, like a bee, and because of the way she calls him “honey”. He doesn't know where she came from – she's apparently always been there, thick and constant like a bulrush. He has gotten quite adept at discerning her particular shadow from the others that pass around him from time to time. When he sees her and calls out “Hee! Heegir!”, it is usually Honey Girl who comes. He's proud of this.

He knows that something happened to him. The Big Man has come several times. Steve has heard the Big Man tell the shadows around him that Steve is lucky to be alive. Steve agrees with this silently, but somewhat in confusion. He's lucky? Why? What happened?

Steve was very sleepy when the Big Man came to visit him for the first time. The place he was in smelled like old food and shoes. It also smelled sharp and dangerous. The Big Man told Steve that he had been hurt. That Steve's head had been hurt. When Steve asked the Big Man to turn the lights on, that he couldn't see anyone, the shadows behind Steve began to quietly sob.

“Is too dark. Can't see. Can't see,” Steve said to the Big Man.

“You suffered from brain damage in the accident. It affected your vision.”

“I'm cold.”

He doesn't live in the old food and shoes place anymore. They told him he was well enough to go back home, and when they wheeled him into what they said was his house, Honey Girl was there. In the months that followed he learned how to use a spoon with his right hand. He also learned that he knew a lot of words but could only use a few. The rest tumbled out of his mouth with the parts all mixed up no matter how hard he tried to put them together.

His days are filled with warm bland meals and the soft cries of the television. Sometimes, shortly after Honey Girl gets him up for the day, they both go outside. She pushes him in a wheelchair while he listens to birds and cars and smells cut grass and dog poop. Most days he just wants to sit in the front room and press his forehead against the warm glass while Honey Girl hovers from room to room doing whatever it is that she does. He spends hours like this as he combs his brain over and over again to try and remember anything that happened before that first day with the Big Man. He repeats the same phrases over and over again in his mind.

My name is Steve.

I am 34 years old.

I have a wife named Sara.

I was in a car accident on March 12th, 2016.

I suffered from a traumatic brain injury.

I have brain damage.

These are the things the Big Man told him to remember. They were supposed to be important. He thinks he misses Sara. If he closes his eyes and is very still, he can almost remember her. He knows she was very kind. He tries not to think too hard about where she is or if she even existed at all, much less how to find her. He deduces that if there were a Sara, then Honey Girl would have gotten her for him like she gets everything else. Honey Girl takes care of everything. This conclusion gives him comfort.

The first meltdown came around a year after he woke up. He had spent three or four days with his head against the window glass for the majority of his waking hours. Honey Girl's insistence at him eating and her demands to clean and change him were grating at best. He had been entirely focused on the warmth of the pane and the breakthrough that he knew was imminent. Sara was dancing on the edge of his memory. He'd been almost able to construct her face from the shards of memory plucked from the chaos of his rattled cerebrum and he was close, so close, to seeing her finally, to seeing the person who the Big Man had made clear was a human of utmost importance to remember. He'd managed to hold her face for only a second before it swam back into obscurity.

It was also at this moment that Honey Girl darkened his vision and used her Stern Voice to tell him it was time to eat OR ELSE.

Steve threw the bowl of oatmeal across the room. It collided with the wall and the sound of smashing pottery was juxtaposed perfectly with Honey Girl's shocked “oh!”. Rage boiled up inside of him. Using his good arm, he turn his wheelchair away from the window and began to bark at Honey Girl in hoarse screams.

“SARE! SARE!” he cried.

“Steve I don't know what-”

He began pounding his knee with his fist.

“SARE!”

Honey Girl began to cry. Steve grabbed out with his good hand and found purchase on a fistful of her shirt. He squinted, bore down, and yanked her toward him as he yelled out:

“GET ME SARA.”

Honey Girl stumbled in front of him but caught herself on the arms of his wheelchair. A hush settled over the two. He watched her shadow turn and leave the room and was left only with the sound of a slamming door and her muffled sobs.

That was a long time ago. Days in their number have mostly lost their meaning. Now it's just another day in a long, marching string of weeks.

After his nightmare, Steve falls back into a fitful sleep. The light through the blinds wakes him before Honey Girl does. When it's bright like this he can see shapes a lot better, but that's the extent of his eyesight anymore. Honey Girl is bumping and rattling things in the kitchen. It's breakfast time soon. Honey Girl feeds him soft warm things like pancakes and eggs and makes him drink this thick drink she calls “Boost”. Steve hates the drink because it's always cold.

Today Honey Girl doesn't make him drink the “Boost”. She tilts a mug to his mouth and gives him his absolute favorite drink – hot chocolate. He grabs at the mug and drinks it too fast, it's too hot – he sputters and chocolate runs down his chin.

“It's okay, honey,” Honey Girl says while she dabs a napkin on his face. She's also brought him oatmeal with cinnamon and brown sugar, another favorite. She spoons it into him like a mother bird to a hungry fledgling. Meals are the bright spots in the mostly dark, vast ocean of his wakeful hours, and he takes them in like communion: silent, focused. The oatmeal is warm all the way down. Steve struggles to not dread the omnipresent chill that soon takes its place.

The rest of the day is uneventful. He looks out the window. Another woman comes and makes him do exercises with both his hands and his feet. He hates this but says nothing. He's sad because his tongue hurts – he must have burned it at breakfast. He eats again, sits at the window, eats again. He sits in front of the TV with Honey Girl for a while after it gets dark, then she changes him and puts him to bed. This is their routine day in and day out. As he lays in his bed he thinks about his nightmare before and what it means. He feels a lot of things, mostly confusion and some fear, about the memories that visit him in his sleep. He can't remember how much pain he was in when he saw the Big Man. It must have been a lot if he was hurt enough to end up like this.

#creativewriting #tbi #braininjury #caraccident #shortstory #short story #writing #lostinsynapse

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