There aren’t many words that can either sound confusing, stressful, and delicious as the word “snack.” You know what we mean?
Do you ever find yourself a couple hours after you have JUST eaten your breakfast feeling hungry? And you’re left truly confused as to how?! Like, how did that massive egg sandwich with that hummus spread, spinach, onions and bell peppers loaded between two pieces of perfectly toasted whole wheat bread not cut it? Or that hearty bowl of oatmeal topped with bananas, raisins, cinnamon, honey, and almond milk not fill up the belly till the lunch hour? Especially when most of the time those breakfasts do keep you afloat until lunch! Confused. What’s goin’ on body!? And then comes the stress…
The mornings are darker these days. The air is crisper when we leave our apartment. As we stumble down our concrete steps to the parking lot, we wish we slipped on a jacket just to get us comfortably to the door, to the car, and to that moment when the car heater finally warms up its chilled interior, us included. And even though the afternoons are still reaching the mid-70’s, our Arizona blood gets a shock during the dusky mornings when we’re popping our cars into Drive before the sun has greeted the day.
These darker mornings are ones where our alarms are snoozing more often, our beauty routines are shortened, we’re daily re-wearing our favorite jeans to minimize outfit frustration, and are lingering in the kitchen longer with eye-watering yawns to cook up some breakfast. We wanted and needed to add some pizzazz to these dark and slow mornings, and believed we could do that best in our lil’ kitchen, the one room where we meet each other in the morning before the two of us have to rush off to our days.
It seems that the past month we have been begging for the mornings to be crisper, wishing to see the shedding leaves collect outside near our apartment stairs. It’s a wee bit torturous eyeballing our chunky sweaters, those that fall on our bodies like a snuggling blanket, and our cargo jackets, those fashioned to warm us for our adventures in the trees, crammed in the corners of our closet, hibernating for just one more month. When we flip the calendar month to October we immediately envision that the weather genie has changed the temperature of the winds, has called upon the pumpkin and squash gardens to multiply like rabbits, and has matched the outside colors to the warm oranges and reds of the Starbucks’ chalkboard designs, layered in pumpkin-this and cinnamon-that.
However, we live in this land known as Phoenix, Arizona. This desert world that at times kindles daydreaming over the Pinterest and Instagram shots of the “perfect” fall season: the layered knits, the dirt paths disappearing into a forest of yellow and orange, and the warming cups of chai tea.
Large windows border our kitchen, allowing the natural light to pour in; brightening our turquoise kettle and highlighting our rouge crumbs. The light bounces off the wine bottles that acquire dust on top of our fridge as we never seem to drink them. We have mail from 5 months ago stuffed in our catch-all basket that’s currently holding highlighters, old pictures, cough drops, and bobby pins.
The white cabinets and the ashy gray counters offer a natural and clean atmosphere, and our mock-wood floors are constantly being swept to try and keep up with our kitchen successes and failures.
Under the sink, there are vases with stained water rings, showcasing the moments we’ve let our flowers linger and wilt in them for too long. The number of vases we’ve collected is always forgotten, but when we take out the trash that shadows our collection, we’re always reminded that we should pick up some fresh flowers on our next outing.