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sungbeam · 2 years

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𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

mark lee x gn!reader

0.3k words, fluff asf, sighs romantic mark, he's so cute, not proofread lol

"Hey, the grass is a little wet," Mark Lee said as he crouched down to pet the damp grass lawn overlooking the river. Moonlight reflected off the dark surface like ripples of silver, and you thought of how the ocean might look like diamonds in the sun, but how the river glowed like the stars in the sky at night.

You tapped his shoulder and pointed to a set of benches by the river bank. "That's okay. We can just sit there, right?"

He pouted slightly, his lips pursing cutely. "Hmm, it's not very 'picnicky' then, babe."

"Ah." He must have been set on the midnight picnic thing then. You didn't want to step on his toes though—he'd been eager to take you on a midnight picnic for awhile now, and when Mark Lee was determined, nothing could stop him.

Mark whipped out the picnic blanket from his backpack. It was one of those red and white checkered ones, the stereotypical picnic aesthetic. And then he started tugging out the tealights—

"This is so romantic," you murmured softly with a smile on your face.

He turned to peer up at you with wide eyes and that adorably boyish grin. "Really? I didn't think it'd be a good idea to bring real candles, but I didn't know if you'd think the tea lights would look worse."

You shook your head, kneeling down to set the picnic basket down on the blanket. You pressed your lips to his cheek. "No, it's perfect, Mark."

"Would rose petals make it a little more perfect?" He giggled. The spot where you had kissed him began turning a deep shade of crimson as he ducked his head to dig the supposed petals out from his backpack.

Your lips parted in awe. "Rose petals?"

"Well," he drawled as he fished out a handful of faux rose petals made of thin crepe paper from the bottom of his backpack. "Same thing, right?"

You cupped your hand around the back of his neck and pressed another kiss to his cheek. "God, you're so cute."

Mark's grin widened and he sprinkled the petals over the blanket. "Anything for my baby."

nct m.list ✶ oct. drabbles m.list

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jejciu · 2 years

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thoughts on picnic food. what are the best options for hypothetically having a picnic with you

Hi żmijko hope ur having a wonderful weekend :-)))))))) hope u don't mind me dividing it into two categories!!!

1. Drinks

Due to warm weather (bc who is doing picnics when it's cold) it's a bad idea to have either hot drinks or cold drinks. I know it's good for u to like drink tea and other hot beverages to match ur body temperature better so u feel less hot in the long run, but let's be honest, it kind of sucks. But also so does soda. I don't think I've ever had a single soda that tasted good after sitting in the sun for more than 10 minutes.... So honestly to me, plain water is good enough :-) it's good and refreshing. Also, I especially love having picnics next to body of water (although then u have to handle the bugs.....) so u can actually put the bottle in the sand when it's still heavy enough so the water cools it down from the outside hehe.

When it comes to alcohol, as long as ur picnicking in a cop-free area and have an option for a cooling bag or something, i love pre-made drinks :-) ofc not bought pre-made drinks, but ones made at home, with just the perfectly customized amount of alcohol that u like the most. I like daiquiris and mojitos for hot summer days, they don't feel too sticky and they're very easy to make (and I tend to sip them slowly so they don't run out as quickly) :)!! Adorable water bottles are the best for that purpose, too. At least u don't have to worry about delicate glass or cans that can explode in ur bag.

2. Food

My no.1 picnic food are sandwiches. Absolutely absolutely sandwiches. Any dark bread, really, but never buns (I don't know why tho, they just don't feel picnicky enough)! Never with anything that spreads or can melt easily (except for butter), always slices of meat or cheese or veggies :-) besides sandwiches, i also like pasta or salad with chicken, turkey or tuna :-)

but other than that, i loooooooooove fresh fruit and veggies. Like I love it so much. I love strawberries, cherries, or grapes (the absolute BEST to have at picnics), but I also adore having sliced tomatoes with just a bit of salt and pepper, as well as cucumbers and carrots cut into long stripes!!! They're just crunchy enough and esp cucumbers are also perfectly watery. Also red radish is yum yum :-)

It's also really weird when people bring salty (or even chocolatey????) snacks tho. The only exception I'd make for sunflower seeds, but then there's the whole issue with throwing out the shells, u gotta prepare a little bag or something but in my experience it usually tries to float away constantly so it's just too much bother. But chips or popcorn?????? Like come onnnnn why are some people doing this. What are u thinking. Fatty foods have no place at picnics!!!! They're fine for movie nights but not here!!!

And last little thing that I really appreciate are the ice candies :-) I have no idea why but I adore having ice candies while on a hot day outside. I usually carry gum or mint candies with me but ice candies are just...... SO perfect for after picnics. I can't explain it they just match so well with like the after meal relaxing. Although u do have to make sure to check if they're not melting together....

Anyway thank u for asking my sweet little darling słoneczko it's such a lovely fun thing to daydream about 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

#maurycy talks #MWAH!!#Obviously there needs to be music too and a comfy enough blanket and also a sweater u take just to use as a pillow for when #you will be inevitably laying on ur back watching the clouds and listening to ur friends....#But about food I guess that's it :-)

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happynaturalhair · 3 years

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We R The Indigenous People We Ain’t No Crayons 🖍 Black Negro Colored Sambo Picnicky Savage Boy or African American We R INDIGENOUS Period!!! Thx U @miketyson who there is an indigenous coin 🪙 with his face on it Wake Up People #miketyson #weareindigenous #period #wakeup #knowyourtribe #ido #hachotakniyamasseecriiktribe #cherokee #mohawk #mohegan #blackfoot #doyourownresearch #chiefiskitanihatapushiknitakomi #feathersup #gratitude #halito #osiyo #yakoke #wado #ancient #like #the #sun https://www.instagram.com/p/CS7hTkJHatv/?utm_medium=tumblr

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dohmaverse · 4 years

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Murpho gave me a new idea to infodump about!! And i have way more to say than i even thought so uh.

Welsome to house post: belvite edition(volume 1)

Maverick: A fuckin hut a mile out of town, people dont fuckin go out there for fear of the fae so its free real estate if ur not a COWARD BITCH. And his knowledge niche (carpentry knowledge from mom, being a freelance enchanter his whole life) made the sheer amount of work that needed to be done into an attainable project.

It's a patchwork of old stonework & magical lattices & exposed pipes. The only interior wall separates the bathroom from the rest of the floorspace but it still manages to be cramped by virtue of all of mav's bigass furniture. The largest bed possible(more blankets than any person needs & he probably piles his clean laundry on the bed too), many shelves full of magey materials & scrap building parts & kitchenware & bulk boxes of supplies cuz he doesnt like going all the way to town!!

Lorant: big fancy house, the greenest yard in town, inground pool & fancy wrought iron fences.

Not gonna go in depth on the whole house but his room specifically is Very Aesthetic. Pastel goth. A LOT of storage space. Plastic tubs under the bed full of fabrics & misc sewing supplies & larger photography props. His closet is devoted to clothes but he's got a wardrobe devoted entirely to storing his dolls & doll accessories. Desk w a crazy amount of drawers. Hidden compartments EVERYWHERE for his SECRET DARK MAGIC THINGS to hide. He also has a private entry to the bavk yard, which im sure his parents regret but he'd sneak out of the house no matter how hard they made it.

Kenny & gale: When Gale bought the Chime Inn, the upper floor was like, five rooms meant to be rented out, but he doesnt want to deal with that so he converted the rooms on one side of the hall into an apartment for him & kenny.

The conversion makes for an awkward-shaped home, more of a suite than anything w the bedrooms on either side of the family room/kitchen/laundry room combination. But they both have their own bathroom which is p sweet. Very much a 'dude' house, kinda junky all the time, no sense of cohesion in the decorating because all of the furniture is scavenged from thrift shops/the side of the road, smells like BO & pizza & dog at all times & shoes/bags/whatever is dropped on the floor/couch the moment you come in the door. They only clean when the funk becomes overwhelming.

The other side of the hall, one room is crammed full of old furniture that came w the building & anything else that needs stored. The other room is for personal guests, cuz gale has Issues with actually having guests stay in his home(he wants it to be a safe space for just him & kenny). Storage room is dusty af, guest room is probably the cleanest place on the entire 2nd floor.

Marta: Has a nice cozy cabin on a hill, of which she is the ONLY OCCUPANT. fireplaces & exposed rafters/beams & plush rugs & book shelves galore. Lots of seating options because she has people over constantly(SHE IS SO LONELY), always smells like tea & baked goods. Lots of counterspace for potlucks, prolly converted the dining room to another sitting area.

Has an entire room dedicated to stationary, multiple bigass cat towers. It has some real mom/grandma vibes.

Tobi & tevyn: live in the house attached to the library Tobi is watching for Alyss. Just a nice little 2-story place that has a lot of pastel blues & gingham, real rustic picnicky vibes(entirely Tevyn's doing). Well-kept like a magazine cover, lovely garden full of vegetables & flowers. Tevyn just really goes all out at being a housewife.

Tobi doesnt really have an eye for design, he just wants a place to store his books & a place to sleep. But also he enjoys a starry sky aesthetic & i can see him having lots of shiny tacky knick knacks & glow in the dark shit. Mainly this is expressed with shitty graphic tees but it shows up in the interior decorating.

Tevyn's room is very neat but also there are glass jars & containers on EVERY AVAILABLE SURFACE. they try to keep the rest of the house tasteful but in their lair they will blatantly be a dragon hoarding shinies if they want to. Half of them dont even contain anything. The walls are hung with mounted insects & shadowboxes. GLASSSSSSS.

#oh god this is an absolute monster post #oc stuff #maverick #marta #gale #kenny #lorant #tobi #tevyn #text

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athetos · 5 years

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Remember that episode of icarly where they meet that boy from another country who spoke exclusively in weird metaphors and ended them with “you know what I mean?” And the cast would freak out on him?

That’s rainbow quartz 2.0

Rainbow: well howdy do I’m feeling more picnicky than an armadillo snorting salsa on a spring afternoon, I could really go for a wrench in the flower garden, you know what I mean?

Amethyst: shut up shut up just SHUT UP

#saving... do not turn off power #su spoilers #rainbow quartz 2.0 #ash talks about su

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roboraindrop · 5 years

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What's your favorite date with Dick? What do you two do when you're just sitting around at home? Who's more likely to tease the other one? What's the best way the you show the other that you love them?

!!!!! Oh my gosh, thank you for this!! :0 I love having the opportunity to talk about my darling 💕

My favorite date is whenever we have time to go out to the lake together! Usually we'll make something picnicky and eat by the water before going out to fish! He never had an excuse to go before, but we experienced it for the first time together! It was a little hectic trying to figure everything out, but... 💕 Still very fun!

Usually when we've got downtime at home, I'll be laying on him 😅 We've got a list of shows to watch together, including a lot of cartoons and kids shows because that's just who we are as people :b When we're not catching up on our shows, though, we like to paint together, or to get a head start of cutting up some confetti if there's a trial coming up! We may or may not have had a few confetti fights, too :b

I'm more teasing, honestly. He's always very genuine, and whenever I tease him and he blushes like that?? Hooooo boy, my heart is ready to pound it's way out of my chest 💕

To show him I love him, I do the best that I can to support and take care of him! I always want him to know how precious, how kind, how important he is! Whether its straight up telling him, or doing little things throughout the day like bringing him lunch, helping him clean up the apartment, or just listening whenever he starts yelling a story, even if I've heard it a million times already! It always sounds better the 5th time :b

To show me he loves me.... there's so much, but I think the main thing is how patient he is with me. He knows I struggle with insecurities and emotions a lot, but he never gets upset with me for having those Mentally Ill Moments, and even comforts me through them! He genuinely does care and want to help, even if all he can do is just hold me through it! It's in the way he wipes away my tears, in the way he tells me that I dont have to go through things alone, and mostly in the way he encourages and motivates me to take care of myself. I mean, I've got someone pretty special counting on me, right? 💕

#gumshoe #gushing #selfship #self shipping #rain rambles

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xiueryn · 5 years

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14 & 17!

- ̗̀ fourteen: post a line of dialogue from one of your WIPs without context ̖́-

“I’m an idiot, okay? I think of all the ways I could mess aroundwith you—mess up! I mean up! And I get allpicnicky—panicky—and want to throw myself in a hole andjust die.”

- ̗̀ seventeen: describe a fic that is still in the ‘ideas’ stage ̖́-

ok ok;;; there’s a story i want to do where mari’s a vampire!!! and the sun makes her sneeze and stuff instead of die, and she’s quite… disconnected? so when she meets adrien, she doesn’t recognise him and they have a wonderful meet-cute and go from there ;u;;

it’s stuck in ideas forever because i have commissions first asfsdghdh;;

find the list of questions here!! (ง •̀_•́)ง

#replies #anonymous

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samcoool · 2 years

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Grassy Paradise 🏞 ° ° ° Kariyathumpara a picnicky tourist place located in Calicut district, truly one of cool places in Kerala offers pine trees, brooks, rocks, grasslands, fenced by mountain peaks. A must visit place if your traveling to Calicut 🥳🤘🏼 ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° #kozhikoden #kozhikode #ᴋᴏᴢʜɪᴋᴏᴅᴇ #kozhikottukar #mykozhikode #calicut #calicutdiaries #police #calicutphotography #kozhikodediaries #keralagram #kerala #tamron18400 #canonphotography #keralapolice #keralaphotography #nteclick #nammudekozhikode #keralatraveldiaries #keralatravels #kariyathumpara #kariyathumpara🌳 (at Kariyathumpara) https://www.instagram.com/insanesnap/p/CYNhWucpmc-/?utm_medium=tumblr

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thesecretoflivereactions · 3 years

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Episode 5 of tzhe Clear Card Arc and we start without any introduction to the plot, we directly get the title this time... Weird!

I get the cherry blossom tree, as she just went for a picnicki around those trees... but I absolutely do not understand why she gets forcefully pulled towards that one magical tree...

Also... how convenient that once again, Shaolan isn’t there.

He actually noticed it. Not bad.

Aren’t they the cutest? Not just that he noticed she was sad because of something he said, he also pushed her in a gentle way to say whats wrong and when he said he wanted to eat the lunch she made for him, she told him not to force it, just because she made the lunch and looked sad. And then he took the thing he told him on the phone she was so working hard on learning to make first to compliment it. Sooooooo adorable! ♥

Episode six and is this title hinted at Yukito? ^^’

Okay, this time it might finally makes sense what kind of card she comes up with...

Its interesting that we never knew that he can play the piano, even tho he is so damn good at it. And there is something... attractive about a man playing a piano somehow? O.o Not that I find Shaolan attractive... but I noticed it lately that a man playing piano kind of draws you towards him or something ^^’

This is actually the first time he is actually around for this kind of thing. Its Episode 6 already and I was wondering if he was avoiding being around in such situations until now for some reason....

He didn’t do much tho, besides being frustrated about the fact that he didn’t feel anything. It seems odd form him to complain about that, given the circumstances, but he seemed genuinely frustrated. So maybe he didn’t know he wouldn’t sense it if her powers run rampage and now that he notices it, he realized that he is somewhat helpless because he can not even feel if something happens and only can rely on being around or being told about it in time. That would put Sakura in more danger, as he can not help her most of the time and thus is bound to get him frustrated.

#CCS CCA Mona Version

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kittykat8311 · 7 years

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Picnicky goodness ❤ #picnic

#picnic

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auskultu · 7 years

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The Strange New Love Land of the Hippies

Loudon Wainwright, Life, 31 March 1967

Just in case anybody's still got his head stuck in the sand, something is happening with American youth, and if others hope they will wake up one morning to lind ended the spreading youthful rebellion against virtually all the fine, old. established values, I think they can forget it. In fact, I believe the hour of the hippie—which could well enlist enormous numbers of young people from all over the country—is coming and that the most sensible thing we straight types can do is to take a good look at this bizarre new scene.

I recently had a brief contact with the hippies in their new national capital in the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco, and my own reactions to this scene were unexpectedly mixed. As a not-so-youthful square, I guess I thought it would repel and outrage me. As a parent engaged in the endless struggle to defend the worth of hard work and the merit of an orderly existence, I was prepared to suffer my own indignation. Yet I quite simply felt none of this at all.

Some of the hippie ways struck me as awful. Some of their talk is nonsense (but whose is not?), and some of their behavior. like the behavior of the squares they deplore, seems both self-destructive and immoral. The hippies jarred me, but there is much about them that is distinctly appealing. Those I met use the word "love” a lot and dispense it freely among themselves and to outsiders w ho don't bug them. It is a weapon of astonishing power.

The Haight-Ashbury section houses perhaps 30,000 people in a somewhat gonc-to-seed area of the city, and its central thoroughfare is Haight Street, an ordinary mixture of grocery and drugstores, shops and saloons. What is decidedly not ordinary about Haight Street are the pedestrians who stroll there, and on a clear day, clothed in wild combinations of capes, boots, turbans, necklaces, bells, chinos, earrings, bearded or not, long hair and short, they parade and lounge in such big and colorful numbers that carloads of sightseers create w eekend traffic jams. These are the hippies (plus some would-be hippies, runaway kids and some outright fakes who get dressed up and come to Haight Street just to join the fun), and it is estimated that between 6.000 and 8,000 of them from all over the I nited Stales are living in the district. By and large, the ages of these voting men and women range between 18 and 23, but there are older hippies, and there are hippie children, too, toddling along between their parents or strapped papooselike to the hack of a bearded father. If it is a strange scene, it is also an entirely peaceful one, and emerging here and there from the crow d are faces of true benignity and beauty.

Among the hippies in the Haight-Ashbury are college graduates, people who have left good jobs, dropouts, men who have completed their military service, girls who couldn't stand their mothers (and boys their fathers), kids of high intelligence from well-off homes (from whence remittance money comes), drifters and misfits and a smattering of the human flotsam that might be expected to drift along with any crowd. Some work regularly, others irregularly, others not at all. Their common bond is revulsion against established authority and against the whole system ("the missile race is just a big, sick, sexual trip”), and among their most widely practiced tribal mores is the use of marijuana and LSD. A great majority of the hippies turn on frequently with these drugs and, though the practice is deplored by the more thoughtful members of the community, others use Methedrine ("speed”) or even heroin. The group's language is clearly drug-oriented, the posters, lapel buttons and literature sold in hippie-run shops have that distinct cast, and some wags have called the area Psychedelphia.

Perhaps because the hippies are peaceable (they don't drink, for one important thing), the population of San Francisco is relatively relaxed about their presence in the city. The attitudes of some are strongly positive. One such man is Father Leon Harris, the rector of All Saints’ Episcopal Church in the district. On the door of Father Harris’ office is a hippie poster in electric reds and greens which says "Haight is Love.”

’’I'm a booster for the hippies,” Father Harris told me. "They have some very fine ideas. They believe in sharing and they’re against hypocrisy. They’re for love and peace. They are honest and open. The drugs deeply concern me. They may have washed their hands of the Establishment, but in many way s that is quite understandable. Our example has been far front good. These people are trying to find a way, and I admire them for that.”

Of course, the view held by Father Harris is more loving than many. The drug situation in the Haight-Ashbury, where arrests tripled last year, is considered alarming by the police, doctors ami other authorities, and, aside from the effects on health, the obvious preoccupation of the hippies with the pleasures of the regularly drugged existence seems to me a most disruptive sort of escapism. All the talk about “mind-expanding” might just be masking a headlong flight from reality.

The worry is not just confined to the use of drugs. A lot of the hippies, as opposed to the equally long-haired hut busy and activist young students at Berkeley across the hay, are not really doing anything, and this aimless vegetation is a matter of concern to many hippie-watchers. Among them is a man named Bill Graham, who manages a wild and wonderful rock music group much admired by the hippies and called the Jefferson Airplane. Graham continually upbraids his hippie acquaintances for their idleness. "They run around shouting ’Rebel! Rebel! Rebel!’,” says Graham, "and nothing really is happening. A lot of them aren’t for anything, even themselves.”

One of the best-known small hippie groups in The Haight-Ashbury is an outfit called the Diggers, and they are by no means idle. They have taken on the responsibility of caring for hippies in general. To this end they provide shelter in two or three houses they have been able to rent. They gather, repair and distribute old clothing, and they scrounge for or buy at cut prices food which they pass out free and daily in a nearby park to anyone who arrives with a howl and an appetite. This regular mass feeding, which usually consists of a hot, stew like dish and bread, often accommodates upward of 100 diners, and the atmosphere, with the hippies in groups on the grass, is clearly picnicky. It is also inviting, and one story in the district has it that every few days a stranger in old clothes arrives to eat. When he is finished, he crosses the park and then gets into a car his chauffeur is waiting to drive away.

Father Harris, who considers the Diggers much like mendicants of the Middle Ages, has given them office space in the church basement and lets them use the kitchen for cooking their handout meals. A group of perhaps 10 were in the church the morning I was there and, feeling somewhat strange in my own costume of suit and necktie, I introduced myself.

They were wonderfully indifferent to my outlandish appearance ("that’s your trip, man”) and welcomed me immediately. For perhaps an hour we talked—or rather I listened as they talked—about a wide variety of matters. They attacked the war in Vietnam, the President, Governor Reagan, the press, the courts, the fuzz. "This system isn’t working,” one intense young man with an earring told me. "The people aren’t eating. This kind of setup encourages madmen.” He rapped his finger on the table. "You dig?” I shrugged hopefully.

Some of their concerns that morning were more immediate. There are estimates that 200,000 young people will he migrating to the Haight-Ashbury this summer, and the Diggers are trying to find ways, including getting the help of the city, to prepare for what might prove to be a realty horrendous demand for housing and food. Indeed, the situation right now in the district is growing critical. On the day I saw them, the Diggers were very short of food and were incensed because they had discovered that in one hippie house there was a big supply of beans that should have been more generously shared. Not quite believing my own presence, I tagged along in their wake when they went to the house, burst up the stairs, had a brief and noisy argument with the startled hippie leaders there, came to agreement and departed carrying half the beans into the rain in boxes and a great, sagging blanket.

The house where we then took the beans was packed with people. In the living room there were perhaps 20 sitting around on shabby furniture and on the floor, some talking, some writing in notebooks, some listening to softly played guitars. Throughout the rest of the house every available bit of space was covered with cushions, mattresses, sleeping bags. Makeshift walls of cardboard and sheets partitioned the bedrooms into still smaller spaces, and in most of these, w hose walls were painted with splashes of color, psychedelic designs and slogans like "Love is the Trip,” more young men and women sat and talked or were sleeping ("crashing”). One boy spoke to me from his bed in a closet, and against a wall in the basement stood the lower half of a metal coffin. "It’s great, man,” said its proud tenant. "And you get to satisfy your death wish, too.”

There were possibly 50 people in the house that day, and it has held more. Singly and in couples (some legally married, some not), they come and go daily, and none of them is turned away unless he is under 18 or breaks the rule which forbids taking any drugs in the house. It’s perfectly all right to take them outside and then come in. There is a continuing effort to fight the squalor natural to such crowded conditions, and the battle against the plumbing is losing and constant. Yet to a great extent the dirt and discomfort are embraced as the logical companions of full freedom.

But the squalor does make one wonder. What is there about dirt and disorder that is so appealing, even desirable? What has the Establishment done to drive people to express their repudiation of it by wallowing in a mess they themselves make? If theirs is a form of protest, they seem clearly to be both the initiators and the victims of it. Would some small measure of self-respect (and I’m not talking about haircuts) undermine the revolution?

Certainly not all of the hippie quarters in The Haight-Ashbury are as jammed. I was invited to a smaller place where about 12 were living. This apartment was tidy, and one of the girls, who said that she produced her financial contribution to the household by panhandling, gave me coffee and a bowl of macaroni. When I refused sugar and said I had a pill for the coffee, the group laughed, and one boy called out: "Get the middle-aged hippie!” The girl curled up next to him on the couch said she had never been really happy until she left home. Now, she said, she thought she w as pregnant, and she and the boy exchanged fond looks.

It was all so loving—good friends together, warm shelter, food, the rain against the window—and it almost seemed plausible. But not quite. What about those who weren’t there, the families of the hippies? Were they looking for these young people or had they given them up? What, I wondered, about the girl who was becoming an accomplished panhandler? How long could she happily ply that humiliating trade? And the girl who thought she was pregnant, would she feel in a few months, as she obviously felt now, that her event was blessed? Or would she feel bitter and swindled and angry at herself for having once had the courage of her folly? In that context, the word "love” seems a ludicrous distortion, and at the very least I would wish for these young people that they had not taken this foolish and painful journey to find it.

The rain was coming down too hard for us to go out then, and we just sat around and talked for awhile. One of the boys took his guitar and began to sing, first folk and blues I didn’t know, then, in deference to the guest, he started on more familiar things like “House of the Rising Sun” and even “Summertime.” We all joined in, and in the middle of one song, a boy lying on the floor tugged at my trouser leg. "You get the vibrations?” he asked. "We’re all together, aren’t we, man?” Indeed we were, in that space and in that moment, and I was sad it could not last. Yet it could not for me, for I know of better afternoons, and it cannot last for them either.

#loudon wainwright #life magazine #hippies #counterculture #haight ashbury #generation gap #summer of love #san francisco #1967 #1960s #sixties #60s

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lloth · 6 years

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Dream Time!!!

Only to arrive at the destination and it's like a picnicky woodsy lookin place and it became nighttime and while the tv guy went into this room, i like noticed that i had leggings on or somethin (which i didnt before)

And then like someone started talking to me like i was d....va and i glance at the hoodie im wearing (it was the one ultimate hoodie from j.i.n.x.) and said that, like in hopeful, character i appreciated them and that they were cool and to keep up the good work. They just had a strange aura around them. So i just went up to a glass thingy, about to comment about how none of this was real (since i kno i dont own a deeeeeeeeeeva hoodie at all)

Until some random dude just popped out of a door, dressed up super silly, and under the assumption that he was dressing to impress someone, some girl and i shook our heads, but said to try something else like a "teacher" (says the girl) and "professor" (i said) would wear. Dude comes back out in a olive green striped button down and khakis or somethin, and the person and i were in agreement for this look

Also some bit about giving a kitty pets. About kitty pets in the rain, saying it was okay bc the cat wasnt in it

And then there was an announcement to go through a door. So, we all did.

Masked mannequins in orange jumpsuits, like robbers almost, wielding assault rifles, aimed at the door, awaited everyone on the other side. Everyone was panicking at the sight and to the sounds of gunfire (no gun was truly firing) and fog from a fog machine, running towards the next door, despite a voice over an intercom saying not to be alarmed.

Whoever i was wasnt panicking. They were just slowly walking through the chaos, heart pounding. Looking over to the left side, they spotted that tv show guy again. Eye contact.

There's haste in my step.

I started to worry and panic.

I couldnt get caught.

I had to blend in.

I shouldve been afraid.

And he knew.

#And thats the most interesting part of my dream i had #synth dreams #a long post #which means i am awake hello

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sovteck · 6 years

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I felt very languishing and picnicky today mainly because I languished at a picnic and ate a metric fuckton of cherries in a sunny breeze

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rickklane · 7 years

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Perfect Playlist for a Summer Spent Outside

June 21st, 2017|Tags: recreation|0 Comments

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By Doyle Irvin, American Forests

“Doyle, I need you to make me a playlist for the first day of summer,” Chris Horn, our Director of Communications, told me almost two weeks ago.

Me during summer.

“But, Chris,” I began, confused. “You know I’m a winter. I don’t listen to summer music.”

“That’s why you’re the one who needs to do it,” he responded. “It will be a journey of self-discovery.”

So I started it with “I’m on Fire” by the Boss, followed by “Every Minute” and “Stuck In The Middle With You” — all three represent how summer makes me feel.

Jokes aside, what follows is vetted and verified as a legitimately chill picnic-worthy playlist, featuring repurposed classics to newer breakouts, The Beatles and The Beach Boys to Bela Fleck and a group called Ghetto Blaster Ltd., who somehow turned “November Rain” by Guns ‘N’ Roses into a dub groove lullaby.

If you’re saying, “Doyle, none of that sounds either legitimately chill or picnicky,” well, you have a point: Boy bands and banjoists aren’t usually what I pair with baguettes and brie. That being said, I did my market research, passing the playlist in front of three different people who spend far too much time in swimwear. They approve.

So next time you head to your favorite park with a basket full of surprises, follow us on Spotify and bring American Forests along with you. We guarantee a good time!

The post Perfect Playlist for a Summer Spent Outside appeared first on American Forests.

from American Forests http://www.americanforests.org/blog/perfect-picnic-playlist-summer-spent-outside/

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lostpensioner · 7 years

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No Picnic

While having no dislike of picnics in principle, I’ve never actually enjoyed one. And today would probably be no exception. I was only doing it for Agnes and the grandkids. Especially the grandkids. Lately their teachers have been harping on a lot about the joys of nature. Some sort of Nature Week or whatever. Anyway, apparently nature is very important and good for your soul and worthy of celebration. And nature tends to favour the outdoors and shun the convenience of furniture and central heating.

I laid out the blanket, which was suitably plaid. I helped unpack the “feast”, which, in fairness, looked quite appetising. I generally assumed the demeanour of a happy family man. And, truth be told, I hoped the kids would enjoy themselves. That’s what life is all about, isn’t it? Family, and nature and happiness and the like. An effort needed to be made, so an effort I would make.

“Anyone want a sandwich?” I offered, in what I intended as an affable tone. I contorted my facial muscles into what was meant to be an expression of joy at being with my family, enjoying nature, being happy. My tone and facial expression were met with looks of boredom, embarrassment and general existential sullenness. I knew these expressions. I’d seen them before. Actually, I’d seen them a lot. Particularly lately. Apparently they’re quite popular with children nowadays. In my day, if I remember correctly, gormless innocence and eagerness to please were more the fashion.

Undaunted, I proceeded to do picnicky, grandfatherly things. I handed out food and drink, initiated conversations and, when they petered out, I took up the slack with an unending string of anecdotes about my own youth. I offered to play games; word games, guessing games, football even. I could tell that my eagerness to please was unnerving everybody. Agnes, who was normally the mealtime chairperson, did nothing to intervene. She seemed puzzled by this strange behaviour. John and Lizzie seemed almost scared by their Grandad. They had never seen me like this before and they weren’t sure they liked it.

I wasn’t too happy with my own behaviour. Being outdoors always seems to do this to me, for some reason. Being out of my usual environment makes me do things I regret afterwards. Like posing for photos with a smile on my face. Smiles don’t suit my physiognomy. Jollity doesn’t suit my soul.

That night, when the kids had gone to bed, I sat down in front of the fire with Agnes and nursed the unsolicited glass of Powers she had poured for me. I began to relax into a comfortable masculine vacancy. Interpreting the actions of women is not my strong suit, but I sensed that I was being rewarded for something. I suspected I had somehow earned ten out of ten for effort, if not for execution.

#humour #picnics #writing #grandfathers

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