The Japanese anemone is one of the garden plants that signifies the end of summer – but does so in a way that spectacularly celebrates the season, even as it nears its final days. The flowers seen here set the stage for our recap of my Boston birthday weekend, which begins on the blog tomorrow.
Flowers that come into bloom at this late stage of the year are especially precious. Most of us have given up on the gardens at this point – the ferns are largely browned and withered, the cup plant is leaning out of its roped support structure, and only the later hydrangeas and seven sons flower tree are still putting on a show. The Japanese anemone is an important part of keeping the garden going through to the fall.
This September is said to be a banner month for us Virgos, with a couple of eclipses and favorable moons, and whether or not I believe in such astrological magic, I’ll welcome whatever positive transformation this month has in store for me. The past few months have been rough and tumble here, and for the first time in a long while I was beginning to think that maybe I was the problem – and I’m perfectly willing to acknowledge my failings and shortcomings, but this summer I’m not taking any of the blame. Let the hits keep on coming, because we all know only the truth stands in the end. Virgos always have the receipts; contrary to popular belief, we don’t always like having to search them out and prove others wrong but when one is attacked, that sort of defense is sometimes necessary. Let’s have a song to clear the air and wash away any lingering doubt that hell hath no fury like a Virgo wronged.
You talk about life, you talk about death And everything in between Like it’s nothing and the words are easy
You talk about me, you talk about you And everything I do Like it’s somethin’ that needs repeating
I don’t need an alibi Or for you to realize The things we left unsaid Are only taking space up in our heads
Make it my fault, win the game Point the finger, place the blame And curse me up and down Doesn’t matter now
‘Cause I don’t care if I ever talk to you again This is not about emotion I don’t need a reason not to care What you say, or what happened in the end This is my interpretation And it don’t, don’t make sense
Fall is the time when I tend to clean up the messes that I let go in summer – and there are several family items that float to the top of that clean-up list, if only to let things go and truly move forward. That means a weighty therapy session this week which might result in additional therapy sessions, and that’s ok. Therapy has been one of the most helpful tools I’ve had in navigating this treacherous mid-life region. I recommend it to everyone.
The first two weeks turn into ten I hold my breath and wonder when it’ll happen It doesn’t really matter
If half of what you said is true And half of what I didn’t do could be different Would it make you better?
If we forget the things we know Would we have somewhere to go? The only way is down I can see that now
‘Cause I don’t care if I ever talk to you again This is not about emotion I don’t need a reason not to care What you say, or what happened in the end This is my interpretation And it don’t, don’t make sense
Fall will also likely be the time when things are brought into unflinching and unforgiving light – and it’s not going to be cruel or cutting, it’s not going to be hurtful or hateful – it’s going to be honest and true. Like the song says, this is not about emotion – and if there’s one thing I’ve learned being raised by two scientifically-minded medical people, it’s how to be cooly analytical when it comes to making your way through this mad world. My Virgo nature lapped that up, and for fifty years I’ve run with it.
It’s really not such a sacrifice
Perhaps those first fifty years were the practice run-through, and we are beginning all over again now – and now is when it counts. Now is when it matters. And if I don’t care…
If I ever talk to you again This is not about emotion I don’t need a reason not to care What you say, or what happened in the end This is my interpretation And it don’t, don’t make sense
And it don’t have to make no sense to you at all ‘Cause this is my interpretation.
One of the things that I’ve grown to semi-enjoy is a soccer game thanks mostly to my nephew’s participation in the game. He’s graduated to varsity this year, and the Amsterdam High School Boys Team is doing a fundraiser until September 26, 2025. If you’d like to help them out, here is the link to donate; every amount you might spare is appreciated.
We attended a scrimmage this past weekend, and on the big field it was a lot more exciting than the games we’ve been going to at Afrim’s (though that’s a lot closer than Amsterdam for us). It was a sunny late-summer day – the banks of fluffy clouds provided comfortable shade while the game was a good one ending 2-2 (I guess ties are allowed in soccer? I don’t know – after all these years I’m still learning the rules.) Once again, if you want to support the Amsterdam High School Boys Soccer team, please click here and put yourself on their scoreboard. Go Rams!
It may be time to start elongating my daily meditations – a habit I’ve employed previously, especially when the day’s light grows shorter. This seems like a good starting point for September, said to be a banner month for Virgos as we have a solar eclipse on September 21 – just in time for the new fall season. Let’s take a deep breath then, and take stock of this particular present moment.
I was supposed to be in Boston with the twins this weekend, but despite checking with them and confirming multiple times, they still ended up having to cancel due to sport practices or something. It’s been the way things have gone lately – they missed the last few holiday trips to Boston, this spring’s Take Your Kids to Work Day, and I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve invited them over in the last few months with no response. I’m assuming this is the way of teenagers, and nothing to take too personally.
I light a candle from which I will burn a stick of Palo Santo, and its reflection glows in the window looking out into the front yard – a visual trick that somehow still works in the middle of the day. There is magic everywhere when you pause to observe.
Starting September in thoughtful fashion feels like the right place to begin this month of transition. There is some soul-searching to be done – and September is the ideal month to recharge and reinvigorate such spaces. A Virgo leans into fall cleaning with gusto and verve. We love ridding ourselves of excess nonsense and creating a place of peace and calm, and we aren’t afraid to move forward in that pursuit.
Recapping the week I turned fifty seems an apt moment to celebrate the silver-haired circumstances that surround my aura-farming of late. It’s also a good time to pause for a Monday morning blog recap – just because it’s a holiday doesn’t mean the blogging stops here. If anything, we go harder, faster, better, brighter…
Most people prefer the rose in June – and most of me would agree – but one small and important part finds greater beauty in the August rose. They glow differently, because they know they are the last. They are sadder, and sweeter, for it.
Many garden perennials throw out a few blooms before fall arrives in earnest, and though they are usually smaller and less robust than their early summer counterparts, their colors feel richer and more vibrant. I’ve always felt for them a little more.
Take flight, my fine fairy friends, and let us again be carefree, without worry or concern, riding on the winds of fantasy and make-believe… Goodbye cruel world! Farewell wicked place!! Adieu, adieu… to you and you and you…
Rush me ghost you see Every centre my home Fever steam girl Throb the oceans Your candy perfume girl You’re a candy perfume girl You’re a candy perfume girl
From the same wondrous ‘Our Time in Eden’ album that brought us the glory of ‘These Days’ comes the other hit single from that collection, ‘Candy Everybody Wants’. It forms the penultimate entry of this section of The Divine Diva Tour: A Fairy’s Tale, in which everything that seemed so sweet and lovely reveals a sickly, bloody underbelly. The scarlet lollipop melts into hemoglobin, the bracelets of candy bind your wrists together, and a necklace of Necco wafers works its ancient Latin language, choking you out with a death-clutch. And all the while, we eat it up. Try one, swallow some…
The music bounces along happily, the bursts of horns, the jangling guitars, the occasional ‘Hey!’s of Natalie Merchant – and it sounds for a moment like everything is gonna be all right. But it isn’t, is it? It will never be right again, and that’s one of the underlying themes of melancholy that pulls this song down from its lofty pop perch.
So their eyes are growing hazy Cos they wanna turn it on So their minds are soft and lazy, well Hey hey give ’em what they want
Ahh Candice… haven’t we all been you before? Most of us get it out of the way in our youth when we stand a chance of getting away with it. During the time of The Divine Diva Tour: A Fairy’s Tale, I was well beyond my Candice era, but the scars were still with me, and the damages we inflict upon ourselves will never be topped by anyone else.
A deceptively sweet turn in The Divine Diva Tour: A Fairy’s Tale arrives in this delicious post, in which I implore you to try some… eat one… you know you want to lick it…
I know a guy who’s tough but sweet He’s so fine, he can’t be beat He’s got everything that I desire Sets the summer sun on fire I want candy… I want candy
Our tour book is about to take its irrevocable plummet, but the first part of the slide down is so sweet and sugary, you let it all happen because it tastes so good, even when you know it’s bad for you…
Go to see him when the sun goes down Ain’t no finer boy in town You’re my guy, you’re what the doctor ordered So sweet, you make my mouth water I want candy… I want candy… Yeah!
Candy on the beach, there’s nothing better But I like candy when it’s wrapped in a sweater Some day soon, I’ll make you mine Then I’ll have candy all the time I want candy I want candy I want candy…
Back in 1989, it was more of a wish to go back in time just a couple of months, to the start of the summer – the summer before high school, when everything would change.
If I could turn back time If I could find a way I’d take back those words that have hurt you And you’d stay
I don’t know why I did the things I did I don’t know why I said the things I said Pride’s like a knife, it can cut deep inside Words are like weapons, they wound sometimes
I didn’t really mean to hurt you I didn’t wanna see you go I know I made you cry, but baby
If I could turn back time If I could find a way I’d take back those words that have hurt you and you’d stay If I could reach the stars, I’d give ’em all to you Then you’d love me, love me like you used to do (If I could turn back time)
Cher’s video for this single caused an uproar worthy of Madonna’s typical fare at the time. (See ‘Like A Prayer‘ or ‘Express Yourself’.) I happened to love it – the outfit, the big-ass boat canons, and the sailors – all those excited sailors… I’d lose my gay virginity to a sailor many years later on the Mississippi River, but that’s a story that doesn’t need to be retold right now.
My world was shattered, I was torn apart Like someone took a knife and drove it deep in my heart When you walked out that door, I swore that I didn’t care But I lost every thing, darlin’, then and there
Too strong to tell you I was sorry Too proud to tell you I was wrong I know that I was blind, and darlin’
If I could turn back time If I could find a way I’d take back those words that have hurt you and you’d stay If I could reach the stars, I’d give ’em all to you Then you’d love me, love me like you used to do, ohh
If I could turn back time (if I could turn back time) If I could turn back time (if I could turn back time) If I could turn back time, oh, baby
One of the best parts of an office day is the opportunity to walk around downtown Albany and see what’s happening. While COVID definitely did a number on a number of establishments, there are signs of life returning to this once-bustling place. dp: An American Brasserie remains a favorite dinner spot for date nights with Andy, while my favorite lunch places are the following:
The Enchanted Florist provides gorgeous cut flowers, while River Garden Studio has a wide selection of houseplants (the latter will be open again starting September 10). For unique and gorgeous gifts with an Albany emphasis, there is the Fort Orange General Store.
My one main complaint is that the area still needs a market/drug store – and some of us state workers are so desperate we don’t care if it’s a Rite Aid, Walgreen’s or CVS – anything to get us through the day!
There have been a number of notable gifts that I’ve received/begged-for over the years: a Laser Disc player back in the 90’s (which was the only format in which Madonna officially released her Blonde Ambition tour, and the sole reason for me wanting it) that my parents found at Radio Shack one Christmas, a Louis Vuitton Keepall 50 that Andy got me for another Christmas many years later, a small painting that Suzie did of me decades ago that was slightly reminiscent of Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream, and this delicious bottle of Diana Vreeland perfume that Sherri and Skip found on one of my wish lists.
For my 50th birthday, Sherri and Skip gave me what may very well be the best gift of the year, and I don’t mean the pair of precious Hermes fragrances that was part of their offering – it was a box of 50 little colorful notecards in individual envelopes, each with a memory or musing or moment written on it that went back over the past twenty years of shared friendship and office adventures. To say that I was touched, this year and this birthday especially, is an understatement, and I can’t thank them enough for such a meaningful and poignant gift.
While I was tempted to tear instantly into all of them – and started off doing just that with the “Imagine Dragons” card (a very private joke) – I slowed down to savor each one, going over the memory or moment that was mentioned, and smiling or laughing at the thought of it. That sort of warmth and love is not something I wanted to end so quickly, so I paused about halfway through, choosing to open a few each day for as long as they last.
Even better is the idea that once I make it through them this initial time, I can put them away for a darker day, bring out this lovely box, and revisit such happiness again. Sherri and Skip have often provided a reassurance of my dwindling belief in the goodness of people – and it’s still there, especially in the people I am lucky enough to call friends.
For those who missed my social media posts about this, here is Chris Evans in a jockstrap, from his latest movie ‘Honey Don’t!’ in theaters now. It’s been far too long since Evans has graced us with such a glimpse, and this one recalls his breakthrough near-nude moment in ‘Not Another Teen Movie’ which found whipped cream and a banana preserving his modesty instead of a jockstrap. Which is better? That’s what online polls were made for, so perhaps I’ll have to put one up soon.
Evans had been pulling back from revealing such shots, so it’s nice to see him return to form in all the right ways, especially for the gay-gazing blogs that have nothing better to discuss. Here are a few previous blog posts dedicated to Mr. Evans and his much-celebrated moments of disrobing:
