This final day of summer is going to be a day of recaps – as this weekly blog recap finishes off the season right before the main summer recap goes up later today. That’s a lot of reminiscing from a guy who just wants to get out of the heat of summer and into the frying pan of fall. To get there, however, we’ve got to go through here – our weekly blog recap. Hurry up and come back later to finish the summer off right.
With that glorious mantra in mind, let’s send this summer off to slumber on a disco danceteria note, courtesy of the one and only Madonna. She’s provided the soundtrack to this past summer – most notably with confessional musical heat in the epic ‘Danceteria’, which is about to make its official splash because it’s fucking time. Here’s the first remix of the song, which looks to be her next single.
This summer, like several summers in recent memory, didn’t turn out as brilliant or wonderful as I’d originally intended and hoped. Maybe it’s about expectations that were simply too great, maybe it’s the final convulsions of a lengthy mid-life crisis (or crises as the case likely might be) or maybe it’s just the state of the world and the dumbing down of people. The Solid Gold Summer recap arrives tomorrow, so I won’t get into a link-heavy diatribe in this post – this is more of a contemplative rumination on the previous three months, and how something that was designed to be solid and gold ended up being hollow and tarnished.
This is the third themed summer we’ve tried on the blog – starting with ‘Coquette‘ in 2024 and then ‘Island‘ in 2025. I like organizing blog posts around a certain structural element such as a theme because it focuses the season, honing in on something that can symbolize whatever else might be going on in the world. (See also the ‘Autumn of Oud‘ or ‘Winter Obscura‘ or the ‘Fade-To-Black Fall‘. The upcoming autumn has a major theme that will be announced on the first day of fall, and it marks a new era, a new image, a new look – and somehow it peels back decades of who I thought I was into someone entirely new and yet intrinsically more myself than ever. That’s more than just a neat hat trick – it’s an astounding revelation/realization.
Back to this past summer, which proved revelatory in a different and more somber way. Largely happening in my head, the Solid Gold Summer found me pulling back from social gatherings (when you find yourself without anywhere to go or anything to do, it means you’re the only one doing any of the social lifting) and happier for it, but then realized I was inhabiting my mind instead of living in the moment or the outside world – phoning it in, quite literally as I spent time on the stupid device in my hand instead of what was happening all around me. Living in one’s head and phone is not a happy place to be – none of that is even real. So the first half of the summer was in living that lie – the second half was getting over it and readjusting. To the latter’s end, I began reaching out to the friends and family who would be there in person – setting up dinners and get-togethers and weekend with the twins who are old enough to operate on their own. I’ll be looking to broaden my social scene in Boston this fall as I begin the long road to retirement (you cannot get the long-range planning gene out of me) and reconnect with some friends I haven’t seen in a while.
Now that I’ve written this all out, I’m seeing that this summer hasn’t been a total bust – that it was solid after all, that it did have its golden moments, and everything that’s meant to be will always be. Huh. A realization in real time, documented as it was happening. A nearly perfect ending to a summer that felt anything but…
The gardens are shifting their show from the floral to the fruit-focused, and with color like this it’s a fair fight. Sometimes strong colors are meant to be a warning (see nightshade) and sometimes they’re meant to entice (see tomatoes). The universe likes to present a challenge, spinning its Wheel of Death with the choice of tomato or nightshade before an unsuspecting innocent’s hungry eyes. Summer spinning into fall feels dangerous that way.
Before our siesta, I suggested that we make our jars of intention, so Emi and I took a pair of simple glass jars and went around the yard to collect various objects that we would imbue with some symbolic meaning to signal our hopes for the new season. Fall was in the air, even as the sun still lent the day some warmth. On the ride home we’d seen several trees already changing their leaves. It was almost time.
We chose a stalk of lavender for luck, a sprig of rosemary for remembrance and protection, a few white flowers of oregano for happiness, and a leaf of sage for wisdom. I found a feather to fly, and Emi dropped a small acorn in her jar for the strength conveyed by the mighty oak. Then it was time for an indulgent siesta before the movie, which was originally the main impetus for our weekend, but felt almost like an afterthought following such magical time together.
After the movie, we headed almost immediately to bed as we had another early morning breakfast call to answer the next day, and Emi had to be back home early to host some friends. I dressed for the goodnight greeting then went to bed myself.
Suzie had recommended the Little City Kitchenette and it was a happy revelation – a delicious ending to a wonderful weekend with my niece (who was, by this time, pretty much over posing for my pictures!)
We had a very good talk over breakfast – the sort of talk that can only happen after a weekend together, when trust has been built, comfort established, and the safety of reliable family had put us both at ease. In some ways, both Emi and I have always been craving that, and if we have to find it in each other, that’s very much a gift of the universe arriving just in the nick of time.
While the weekend was supposed to lean toward fall, and the bewitching season almost at hand, the weather was almost too sweet – warming into the mid to upper 70’s as the sun drenched the roads to Vermont. When we arrived in Manchester, the flowers were still putting on a spectacular show, and we took our time walking around and enjoying the beauty. Our main goal was the Maple Creamie we’d discovered a couple of years ago, but having just had breakfast we agreed a walk and some shopping was in order first.
Emi was also mostly game for posing in whatever ridiculous setting we discovered – hence this fun capture of an elephant outside the local Thai restaurant.
The riverwalk was a peaceful place to pause on this beautifully sunny day – the water a relaxing sound and sight to take in and appreciate. With all the phone action and fast-paced lives of teenagers today, it’s good to slow things down and remind them of what really matters, what’s actually happening if they don’t look up and around and take everything in. I need that reminder too sometimes.
Hints of ice cream were starting to appear, nudging us toward our main goal of the day: procuring that delicious Maple Creamie. Some were bigger and more prominent than others.
Eventually our chosen purveyor opened their doors and it was time – we had our maple ice cream in Vermont and all was well with the world.
Our final stop in Vermont was the cozy Northshire Bookstore – a place I’ve been visiting with the twins since they were young children. Some things remain the same, and some things change, and it’s all good in its own way. On this day, we inhabited the moment – a rare instance of mindfulness and being present in a season that was already racing to its end. We had a few more itinerary items to check off however, so we made our winding way back to New York, and a siesta that was calling to both of us…
Due to their schedules, my niece and nephew joined me separately for our somewhat-annual end-of-summer weekend hangout, so while Noah’s adventures can be found here, here and here, we are just beginning to post Emi’s Magical Almost-Autumn Weekend adventures with her Uncle Al, starting with this post – the first entry of her trio of features to commemorate a whimsical weekend at the end of summer. I managed to cobble together an itinerary and we checked off every item on it – something that makes my Virgo heart sing.
Lola arrived with Emi on Friday afternoon, and we sat down to a dinner by Uncle Andy – Emi’s favorite chicken parm and a dessert of lemon meringue pie in honor of Dad’s birthday, which was his favorite. It felt wistfully poetic – Emiliana was named after my father, and as I see bits of my dad in both of the twins it’s reassuring to know he lives on in them.
We began with a brief attic moment of intentions, and a quick run-through of our witchy weekend, built around the new ‘Practical Magic 2’ movie that just came out. What is a magic spell but an intention cast into writing or incantation? They are wishes or desires or hopes for something to happen. Whether or not they manifest is up to myriad elements and forces, some of which are directly under control, most of which are not. As in many situations, harmful or hurtful intentions tend to double back on the person doing the casting – negativity and evil leading to more of the same – while happy and supportive spells tend to foster happiness and support for the person behind them. We kept everything on the positive, and wrote out what our hopes were for the weekend ahead.
Emi’s intentions were to be relaxed, stay calm, share fun memories, and have fun – and I couldn’t improve upon those items if I tried. Happily, that’s pretty much how the weekend would go, starting with a gift basket that had some chocolates and soap and a book of magic intentions for Emi to fill out in the days to come.
After dinner, we set up camp in the cellar for a viewing of the original ‘Practical Magic’ – had some popcorn and candy – then called it a night – as we had to get up early to secure a table at Manory’s in Troy on our way to Vermont.
Troy has its own magics, and its own mayhem. A very upset woman approached our car in the first place we parked, screaming at Emi before we even shut the engine off, so I drove around the block and found a more welcoming space before our breakfast at Troy’s oldest restaurant. There’s usually one bit of drama on every weekend with Uncle Al, so at least we got that out of the way early and could focus on fun and relaxation as originally intended. The breakfast was good and, fortified for the moment, we got back on the road to Vermont…
One of my favorite plants – the sweet autumn clematis – is in full bloom right now, carpeted with white blossoms and their accompanying sweet perfume, hence its common name. We used to have one at the base of an arbor, which performed reliably for about two decades before puttering out – but not before seeding itself throughout the area. One of those seeds grew into the specimen you see here – in a relatively neglected, unfertilized and under-watered section of the side yard, where it climbed up a lilac branch and spread itself out into a pine.
Next year I’ll amend its soil with some manure and give it a proper place to begin, as this show can be even more grand and magnificent. For now, it’s a lesson in resilience and power, and a testament to survival. I’m taking my inspiration here for the autumn season. Be prepared. Prettiness is not a sign of weakness.
This Dazzler of the Day comes to us from across the pond, where his passion for pottery has resulted in playing a part in The Great Pottery Throw Down and work for the RHS Chelsea Flower Show, a coffee cup launch for Future Self Coffee/Alfie Deyes, and social media campaigns for a number of companies. This is Adam Johnson, also known as Adam Ceramic, who has made an obsession with pottery and clay into a life-art. With a love for all creative outlets, his pottery work incorporates all avenues and art forms, but the most profound effect his clay love affair came when he was hit by a car in 2007 – a life-altering event that required a year and half of recovery and rehabilitation. It was clay that provided an opportunity for mindfulness and healing, a story he recounts powerfully here. Clay helped bring him through that difficult time, while launching him into a career that is still on the rise.
The cheeky irony is not lost on me as a grown-ass gay man: when I was a child, I loved beavers. Love, love, LOVED the beaver. Wrote school reports on beavers. Made dioramas of beavers, their kits, and their lodges and dams. Visited a beaver sanctuary for my birthday. Had a beaver birthday cake. In my world, beavers were better than baseball and basketball and all the balls. I was even a beaver for Halloween – a costume I have yet to top. So the truth is I’m not a stranger to the beaver, as gay as I turned out to be.
That said, my beaver obsession largely dissipated by the time I was a teenager, but I made the mistake of mentioning it to co-workers and ever since then I’ve been inundated with beaver gifts and items. Suzie recently got me a pair of pajama pants that had beavers on them, and Heath just gifted me a beaver t-shirt for my birthday. I say this now so you know not to get me anything more with beavers on it as I’m set. Totally good with the beaver – should I need more I’ll slap the surface of water to alert you.
Be that as it may, I decided to make beaver cupcakes for Heath, as I recently found what seemed to be a simple design for them online (see also ‘No good ever came from fucking Pinterest’). As with most ‘simple’ recipes found online, it was anything but. Well, it’s probably not that bad for someone more accustomed to doing such things, but crafts and cooking combined is not in my immediate wheelhouse, so I considered it a challenge.
Hats off to all the parents and caretakers who did and do this bullshit on the regular for their kids – because FUCK THIS. I’m too much of a perfectionist to be thrilled with the results, but I appreciate their overall look and whimsy, and the imperfections and wonky eyes just make me laugh rather than stress. Also, I mastered the cupcake and frosting bit – even Andy said the frosting was good, which is the greatest praise coming from our home cake boss. The eyes were candy ordered online, the ears were Junior Mints from a recent movie night with Emi, the nose was a peanut M&M, and the teeth were a pair of Tic Tacs. As for the tail, that is one half of a Nutter Butter cookie – and my favorite part of the whole scene. It was also the most problematic. I didn’t take into account how much the frosting and cupcake might soften the cookie, so when I revisited these the next morning ALL of the tails had broken off and fallen to the table. I had to insert new ones to bring them into work. A couple hours later, they started to fail again, so these need to be inserted at the very last minute. While I’m not a total stranger to the beaver, I guess I needed a reminder not to insert the nutter until it’s show time – and that’s the only sweet beaver advice I can offer to you.
Alexandra Eala just became the highest ranking Filipino singles tennis player in the WTA Tour, easily nabbing her this Dazzler of the Day honor. Represent the homeland! Her tennis star has been on the rise for the past few years, and she looks to bring more attention to the sport in the Philippines. Thanks to her style and panache, it’s already happening. (Bonus: she prefers matcha over coffee, as if we didn’t already have enough in common.)
The flowering of the anemone is always a harbinger of fall. These beauties were blooming along the Southwest Corridor Park near our place in Boston while Noah and I were visiting a couple of weeks ago. I have a single pink variety in our garden, which is more pale and less striking than this one – both carry their charms differently, neither unpleasantly or disappointingly.
To my shame and slight regret, I don’t grow many late-blooming plants because I’ve mostly moved on from the garden by this point – not wanting to indulge in the slow decline and browning until the inevitable killing-frosts that will fell all in a single night or two. It’s always been too painful to get attached or enamored of something that we know won’t last. Maybe I’ve been wrong in that mode of living – this plant is a reminder that there is still beauty and glory to be found until that first hard frost arrives. Living in fear and giving up on something just because it won’t last is… well, it hurts the soul a little, doesn’t it?
There’s nothing I like better than a decent diatribe of a little lovely alliteration, which makes Dazzler of the Day Daddy Dyl a natural exercise in dazzling destiny. An artist celebrating unabashedly queer work and leaning into nudes and a natural state of being, Daddy Dyl offers work that is provocative, evocative, and beautifully decorative. As easy on the eyes as it is occasionally challenging to the brain, this is artwork aimed to celebrate the queer experience – with all its requisite passion, joy, connection and humanity. More impressive is the artist’s boldness to pose with some of his works, echoing their themes and confidence, and baring his body and soul on multiple levels – a gloriously defiant stance in an age that wants to shut so many of us into silence and darkness. Check out the Daddy Dyl website here for further evidence of Daddy Dyl’s brilliance.
