Category Archives: Andy

A Dozen Years of Married Life ~ Part 1

Celebrating our 12th wedding anniversary a couple of weeks ago in Boston, Andy and I re-discovered a city in spring bloom while remembering that wonderful day a dozen years ago. A quieter celebration, especially considering the current state of the world, it seemed to mean a little more than louder and more bombastic celebrations we may have had in the past. Southwest Corridor Park was lined with flowering plums and apples, while our building on Braddock Park was framed by the leaflessly-enchanting blooms of an American dogwood. We were back in beauty. 

A gift from last year’s anniversary, a spritz of Soleil Brulant brought back more recent happy memories, time layering upon time, creating the richness of our shared history. As Andy settled in at the condo, I went on a quick shopping run on Newbury Street. 

Hastening along, I returned to find Andy on the couch in an afternoon slumber. After carefully unloading some food in the kitchen, I moved quietly to the bedroom for a daily meditation. A favorite time of the day, in one of my favorite rooms, while my favorite person was sleeping in the other room – it was an auspicious beginning to our anniversary weekend.  

On that first night, we had a steak dinner in the Seaport, then returned home while the city bloomed. The next day we would return to the Garden…

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Vintage Lilacs

More than perhaps any other flower, lilacs kindle memories – of childhood, of mothers, of family, and of love. When placed beside a photo of Andy’s mother, they lend our den a sense of warmth and history, bringing to mind happy memories when we were all much younger. The mind mingles in the past based on different sensations – sometimes it’s in the perfume of a flower, sometimes in a certain shade of lavender, and sometimes in the simple slant of sunlight. 

Andy recalls a long hedge of lilacs near his home, a mixture of white and typical lilac bushes, alternating light and dark shades – which is similar to my own memories of lilacs – the traditional variety in our yard, and a few more elusive white varieties in the yard next door. As this year’s lilac season shifts from the American versions to the Korean lilacs, just coming into sweet bloom now, the season of spring is at its glory – as much a season of renewal as of remembrance. 

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A Mother’s Presence

Andy’s Mom saved him a hybrid lilac bush before she died, and in the spring that we moved into our home it was one of the first things we planted in the backyard. Since then, it has slowly (and some years quickly) spread beyond its intended space, sending out suckers far into the lawn and resulting in new plants ready to be transplanted. I’ve established two more healthy clumps in other areas, adding to the pretty, perfumed merriment. Every time they come into bloom, I’m reminded of his Mom and her love of gardening – and of lilacs. 

This variety has a heavy, double bloom – a fancier and frillier version of the common single variety, and just as pungent in the perfume department. A single stalk will fill an entire room with its intoxicating fragrance, signaling spring and hope and the giddy glide to summer. 

Lilacs carry other memories for us – particularly of our Memorial Day vacations to Ogunquit, Maine, which we are returning to this year after being absent for too long. Their bushes were usually right behind ours, so just as ours were tapering off, we would head north and find them still in the midst of their sweet blooming season. Hopefully our timing will work out in a few weeks. 

In the meantime, I pause each and every time I’m outside and anywhere near their vicinity. Stopping to smell the flowers is something that should be part of everyone’s life – and this week it’s a literal practice of love. A memory of Andy’s sweet Mum on this Mother’s Day. 

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Our Garden Wedding

The morning of May 7, 2010 dawned in sunny fashion, and as I walked out of the bedroom and into the living room of our suite at what was then the Taj Hotel, I paused in the quiet start of the day. Looking out over the Boston Public Garden, at the fresh green canopy of trees and the swans in the distance, I felt keenly, and wonderfully, the day of demarcation from the technically-single life behind me and the married life before me. In that hushed morning, I waited for Andy to stir, and soon we would cross the street to the Garden, where we would meet up with family and friends to officially be married

Today marks our 12th wedding anniversary – a dozen years of adventure, laughs, and love – and we will hopefully go through our usual anniversary traditions, in whatever form they might take in this new world. Having made it through the rough times, the tedious doldrums of life, and the way it wears on the best of romances – especially in the isolation of a worldwide pandemic – Andy and I have found a new respect for one another, and for our marriage. It’s a different sort of love that sustains us now, but I still feel the instant affection and thrill that I did twenty-two years ago when we first met. There’s no one I would rather share this life with, to sit in the Garden and watch the squirrels and swans go by…

Happy Anniversary Andy – I love you. 

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A Cake of Lavender & Love

This homemade beauty was crafted by Andy in honor of JoAnn’s 50th birthday celebration, which continues just as this is being posted. Josie, Ali and Peaches will soon be en route to our little abode, where I’ve assembled a trio of her favorite appetizers and a weekend of comfort and casual glory. Andy’s cake is made of a vanilla base, accented by lavender frosting and a raspberry filling. Our home will be filled with all sorts of good things this weekend, and if the weather’s still a little chilly, at least there will be warmth in our hearts. 

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Andy’s Big Balls

Nestled amid all that glorious sauce and spaghetti is one enormous meatball, at least three inches in diameter, and just waiting to be devoured by my lucky mouth. If there’s one thing that Andy knows how to cook (and there are actually many) it’s the meatball. Despite their size, these always turn out tender enough to slice easily through with a fork. Their flavor is wondrous, yet I’m told the ingredients are simple enough. (Perhaps you can cajole him into sharing the secret with you. I’m content to have him continue making them so I’d rather not know.)

While I enjoyed spaghetti and meatballs as a kid, it wasn’t something I ever ordered or cooked for myself as an adult. Andy’s meatballs changed that, because these are an art form. 

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Abba & Andy

This fun pic shows the reflection of Andy white illuminating that Abba was playing on the radio – ‘Fernando’ to be exact. The last time we had the twins over, I made a joke of Abba and I’ve been texting it to them ever since. An inside joke, it’s just something that makes me smile now, and Abba has become a code word for fun when talking with them. 

Further proof that Abba is timeless

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Andy’s Winter Antidote

This is merely an almost-bite of Andy’s perfecting of a chicken curry dish which has taken over two decades to reach this blissful state of warmth and deliciousness. It is the perfect antidote to a winter’s day, and even better during the early arrival of a winter’s night. This dish rivals that of Mom’s beef stew, to which Andy has also added his special touch. Comfort food to warm the heart. 

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For the Love of Andy’s Meatballs

One of the first meals Andy ever made me was his pasta and meatballs. It was in the summer when we first met, and he had invited me and Suzie over for dinner. So frazzled were my nerves and so high was my anxiety that I made Suzie stop at the TGIFriday’s at Stuyvesant Plaza for a cocktail beforehand. There was no need for such worry – once we were seated in Andy’s Guilderland house, it felt comfortable and safe, and as we ate his pasta and meatballs, it felt like it could be home. 

Throughout the years that followed, this meal would become a reliable dinner of comfort food, and word of its goodness traveled among our friends. Suzie’s daughter Oona would come along, and she loved the meatballs as much as any found in a restaurant. My parents would join in the adoration for the classic dish, and our other friends would enjoy it whenever we were at a loss as to what to serve. 

Andy revised and refined his recipe, following hints from Rosanna at his favorite restaurant (hint: no garlic, only onions) and no matter what insanity was going on in the world and in our lives, this meal would ground and stabilize us – made with care, consideration and love – and enjoyed in the same manner. Andy finds comfort in making a big pot of sauce then crafting a baking sheet crowded with meatballs, and I find comfort in eating it all when it’s ready. It’s a system that works. 

 

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Two Queens in a King-Sized Bed

A December piece of music that embodies the notion of hygge, this sweet little song is a new Christmas classic. Let’s face it, we need more interesting Christmas music. The classics will always have a place in the season, but there’s also room for something new. 

Two queens in a king-sized bed
There’s no mistletoe above our heads
But I’ll kiss you anyway on Christmas day
Yeah, I’ll kiss you anyway on Christmas day
I don’t have a lot to give
But I would give you everything
All my time is yours to spend
Let me wrap you in with my skin
With my skin

This song is a good one to play when you’re not quite ready to get out of bed in the morning, or when you find yourself napping at the same time as your husband, something that happened happily a few days ago. I found myself lying down just for a moment after work, and that moment turned into a few, and then I was fast asleep. When I woke, Andy was beside me, covered in blankets and warmth. I stayed there a little while longer in the darkness of early afternoon, simply enjoying the comfort of the moment. That’s hygge.  

Two queens in a king-sized bed
Like angels in the snow
My only wish is one more year
And then I want them all
Your freckled cheeks, our tangled feet
The closer, the better it gets
So let’s stay right here
Until forever disappears
I don’t have a lot to give
But I would give you everything
All my time is yours to spend
Let me wrap you in with my skin
With my skin

When the wind whips by the windows on a cold, clear, almost-cloud-free day, and the tan grass heads nod in brutal agreement, it marks a moment to indulge in a bit of coziness with a loved one. There is calm here, and there is quiet here, and the world could use more of both during the Christmas season.

Two queens in a king-sized bed
Mm, there’s no mistletoe above our heads
But I’ll kiss you anyway on Christmas day
Yeah, I’ll kiss you anyway on Christmas day

There is nothing more comforting than taking an early-afternoon nap with your husband as December gets underway. Let the season of hygge begin.

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Andy’s Chicken Curry

Way back when I was about to move to Chicago circa 1999, my Mom gave me a book of recipes that were designed to be cooked quickly and easily – a basic entrance to cooking for someone who was about to embark on some simple housekeeping. I did my best to work through most of the recipes, and one of my favorites was an utterly-inaccurately named ‘Chicken Curry in a Hurry’. It was simple as far as ingredients went, but woefully ill-monikered because it took forever to make, what with all the chopping and cutting. I used it as a basis for branching out once I became a little more confident in things, before passing it on to Andy once I introduced him to Thai food. In his capable hands, it was modified and perfected, to the point that it now rivals the chicken yellow curry at House of Siam in Boston. Here’s how he does it:

2-3 lbs chicken of your choice (I’ve used boneless chicken thighs, breasts cut into strips and precut tenders. Also full thighs with bone in.)

4 cans of coconut milk

Package of Campari or cherry tomatoes

1 whole ripe pineapple cored and chopped into chunks

Two “handfuls” snow peas

A mesh bag of mini red or multi colored potatoes

2 cups sliced or mini carrots

1 can whole or half mini corn

2 inches of fresh ginger root peeled and minced (held separately from vegetables)

Optional: a diced onion and  a diced bell pepper

Yellow curry paste

Peanut (or olive) oil.

Chop vegetables first and put in one bowl. Set a large Dutch oven on high heat with enough oil to cover bottom. When hot, add chicken and brown it. Add all vegetables to Dutch oven and sauté with chicken for about 5 minutes. 
Add fresh ginger. Sauté another 5 minutes. Cover in coconut milk. Add curry paste 1 tablespoon at a time to taste at simmer. Low simmer stir frequently for about 45 minutes until potatoes are cooked. Add tomatoes whole and simmer another 5 minutes.

Serve over jasmine rice.

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Remembering Andy’s Mum

Every year at around this time I can sense Andy recoiling from the world a little bit, slipping into the sadness of the season, and no doubt remembering when he lost his Mum. Next week will mark twenty years since she died, and for him it’s still as sad and sorrowful as when it happened, perhaps compounded by being without her for such a long time. Sometimes grief subsides in certain ways, while growing in others. 

The holidays are marked by two memories I have of his Mum: the first is a very happy and funny one, taking place on Christmas Eve the first year I was dating Andy. We were stopping by his house en route to mine, and he told me she would offer me a highball, and it was ok to say yes. (He knew I might otherwise have declined in a desperate act to be polite.) It was a bit nerve-wracking, as it was the first time I was meeting her, and in my nervous discombobulation when she offered me the drink I enthusiastically said yes, then mentioned that I’d heard she liked to drink. It didn’t come out right because there’s no way for that comment to come out right. She looked my way, then looked at Andy, and let it slide. We would laugh about it for years. (At least I wasn’t wearing a ‘Get Wicked Tonight’ t-shirt to meet her, as he did when meeting mine.)

The second holiday memory is when she was sick, and we got a call from the hospital on Thanksgiving and had to leave the Ko house early. By then he already felt like part of the family, so losing her was losing one of our own. I wish I’d gotten to spend more time with her. 

Twenty years later, it feels freshly painful all over again, so I’m letting Andy lead the way on how he wants to proceed as far as what he wants to do on Thanksgiving. Still, I know she is with us, and Andy knows it too, whenever a cardinal comes to visit or partake of our seven sons flower tree, or flit around the front thuja hedge. She’s there whenever Andy gives me a quick look for something inappropriate I’ve inadvertently said or done, just like on that first night when I met her. And she’s with him whenever he gets down at this time of the year, in ways that I can’t comfort or ameliorate. 

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Dazzler of the Day: Andy VanWagenen

We continue our celebration of Andy’s birthday with this post, featuring Andy VanWagenen as our Dazzler of the Day. Having already waxed rhapsodic about his attributes and magnificence here, I’m going to allow these handsome pictorial reminders of the past speak for why he has been a Dazzler in my life for over twenty years. PS – Don’t forget to wish him Happy Birthday today! 

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Happy Birthday, Husband!

Like many retired and current police officers, Andy likes to keep his online presence rather quiet and discreet, and for the most part this space has tried to honor that, but at least once a year I insist on putting him up here and celebrating all that he has done for me, and for the world. Today is his birthday, so he deserves all the happy well-wishes and congratulations for surviving another rip around the sun on this wacky planet. 

In ways too numerous to mention, Andy has provided the foundation and stability that our home has needed. For many years I relied on him for that core of safety and security – it was as much a part of his make-up as his care and compassion for others when he was an officer. While I’m the last person on earth who thought he’d end up married to a retired cop (having had more than my fair share of traffic tickets alone) it turned out to be the best thing for me. In exchange, I hope I’ve introduced him to things he never would have experienced in his world. 

As a beloved member of our family, he has also been indispensable when times are tough and life gets difficult. My parents are getting older, and every day comes with greater challenges and obstacles. Having gone through losing his own parents, Andy’s experience and guidance through these moments has proved a comfort in more ways than I have probably acknowledged, so I’m taking today to remind him of that, and of the gratitude and gratefulness we all feel toward him. 

As we get older, I’ve noticed our love runs in a deeper way, its grooves softened and honed by the accumulation of years and shared moments together. Where some fear and dislike comfort and safety, we pull ourselves closer to it with each advancing year, and if the last two years have proved anything, it’s how dark and depressing this word can sometimes get. Andy and I have survived partly because of the life we have created for ourselves. There have been times when it’s just been the two of us against what felt like the whole world, and on this day I want him to know how much that has meant to me. 

Happy birthday, Drew – I love you. 

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Blast from Uncle Andy’s Past

Having recently finished up this year’s Fall Treasure Hunt weekend, I was compelled to take a rare look back at our interactions with the Ilagan twins, so I found these photos of Uncle Andy with Noah and Emi in years gone by. It’s amazing how quickly they are growing up, and how much we are evolving in the process. Just a few short years ago we could throw them easily around in the pool, and they could barely reach the counter-top of the kitchen. 

Now they almost look like young adults in comportment and carriage, and I want to go back just a couple of years, not only for their youth but for our younger years. I only indulge in such maudlin sentiments for a brief moment, and then I’ll be back in the mindfulness that focuses most on the present, and all the wonder and joy that can be found in the here and now. The twins represent that passage of time in ways that are bittersweet and contemplative, providing a pause in the relentless tick of the clock. 

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