Most summers begin with a celebratory bang – an explosion of color and sound, vibrant and brash, bold and brilliant – heralding the season of fun in the sun. Last summer’s Coquette theme was an instant classic, one that could never be duplicated. It was perfectly of the moment, and like all perfect moments, it wasn’t destined to last. Summer is like that.

This summer is decidedly quieter, with a much more loose and laid-back theme: Island. It begins with a delicate piano version of Bob Marley’s ‘No Woman, No Cry’ which concludes with a Bach Prelude, signaling an end and a beginning at once – the way summer sometimes demands two things at the same time, tugging at the heart while wreaking havoc with the head.

It sets the tone and the atmosphere for our Island theme – which is fluid, languid, and free. It is relief and release, the way you once felt after the last day of school, when you could throw your binders and pencils away and pretend summer was going to last forever, because it felt like it could. There’s also an adventurous aspect to it, with the mysteries that often accompany a summer’s duration. When I was in school, and summer finally arrived, I’d select one classic to read – something like ‘Treasure Island’ to take me out of the doldrums of Amsterdam, NY. When your mind is your passport, you can go absolutely anywhere. Won’t you come along for our island adventures?

“Before us, over the tree tops, we behold a great field of open sea to the East. Sheer above us rose single pines, black with precipices. There was no sound but that of the distant breakers, mounting from all around, and the chirp of countless insects in the brush. Not a man, not a sail upon the sea; the very largeness of the view increased the sense of solitude.” ~ Robert Louis Stevenson, ‘Treasure Island’

Spring ends, summer begins, and Mars is in Virgo.

As the dearest lady once proclaimed to a room filled with men: “Don’t fuck with me fellas – this ain’t my first time at the rodeo!”

Just a little attitude I’m keeping in my back-pocket for a rainy day, as our slide into summer will be a quiet and soft one. This post gradually transitions us into the summer theme – a sepia, tropical tone, something simple and easy for the relaxed season. Shades of cream and white and beige – once decried as dull and lifeless, now embraced as classic and elegant and cool. Ideal for the hot season, when things get sticky and sweaty and we’re all looking for relief.

At the end of spring, a song for the moment:

Drama and portent, setting the stage for some sort of summer, with hopes it will be a contented one. Hope and possibility – the key tenets to the start of the season. Come back in a few hours to see the first summer post…

Mars just entered Virgo, which puts some of us directly into our ‘Reputation’ era, to speak in Taylor Swift terms. It will stay here until August 6, 2025 so the first part of this summer is going to be banging. I’ll be trying to focus on the positive aspect of this astrological placement – utilizing the influence to get things done quickly and efficiently, while not putting up with any bullshit.

The perfectionist tendencies of Virgos (guilty as charged) may also crescendo during this time, with critical attacks launched on others as much as on ourselves. Pugnacious perfection is certainly a place of comfort, but my goal is to limit both, embrace the imperfection of life, and go a little easier on myself, aligning with a planned summer of easy relaxation.

That said, this is not the time to mess with a Virgo, no matter how relaxed ad easygoing I may appear to be. There will be no bullshit tolerated, and if I have to say something that hurts, it’s only because it’s true. I’m about to turn fifty, and I will put up with absolutely no fuckery.

Mars is in me now, and I’m manifesting all the energy.

It’s almost time for summer barbecues, summer parties, summer gatherings, and summer fun. While I’m always on the lookout for mosquito repellant success stories, I offer this helpful meme for those looking to throw off the other stinging bugs.

It’s all about distraction and false leads. Get them off your scent by offering something sweeter, and chase the kids away in the process. Win-win.

This is probably the second egg I’ve broken in the past few months, which is not a happy thing considering the price of eggs these days. It is, however, a lesson in going with the flow and not letting a broken egg ruin the day that follows. The past perfectionist in me would have thrown a conniption fit over such a thing, railing against the injustice of the world and whining to any and all within earshot (sorry Andy) until I made some small sense of it.

The relatively-new non-perfectionist in me takes it in stride, quickly wipes up the mess with a few paper towels, and carries on with the day. Not the biggest deal in the world, probably not even worth a blog post, but there is magic in making something out of nothing, and accepting the nonsensical side of the world is integral to being at peace in this place.

The last time I smelled lilies was when a large bouquet of them took pride of place on my mother’s dining room table when my Dad died in the summer of 2023. Knowing how powerfully a scent could conjure a memory, I’ve semi-subconsciously avoided them in any bouquets for that reason. The other day, however, I happened upon some lovely lilies in the market. Emi had just been telling me that lilies were her favorite flower, and I was looking for a bouquet for Andy as he has been so supportive over the last few stressful weeks. With a soft pink shading, the lilies matched the roses in the bouquet I was assembling, and I took a chance with whatever memory might be brought back to life.

It took them a day to open up, and then they filled the room with their heavenly perfume. It brought me back to that sorrowful summer, to all those sad days, but it wasn’t sadness I felt, it was comfort. It reminded me that as upsetting as it was, there was also something very beautiful about my Dad’s graceful exit from this world, and in the way we said goodbye to him. There was peace in those days – sadness, yes, but peace too – and there was beauty in those weeks. Beauty in the flowers that appeared from friends, in the flowers that were tumbling out of the gardens in that gorgeous summer, beauty in the white circle of flowers that surrounded his urn in the church, in that moment when the family I had known all my life would be in the same place for the last time. Or so I thought.

It would turn out that we would be together again – in every family dinner where Dad came up in conversation, in every moment I struggled and turned to the idea of him for protection, and in the scent of these lilies that brought it all back.

This is it – the week when summer officially arrives, and it looks to be – wait for it! – filled with RAIN!!! I’ve reached the crazed and exasperated point of ALL-CAPS AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!!! As Andy will unhappily attest, this is decidedly NOT the time to fuck with me. Let’s get this weekly blog recap over with and dive back into the stormy weather before summer truly begins or I take a hostage…

It began with a hot date in the sun.

The promise of a musical trailer.

Goo be gone.

A Virgo’s evolution.

Let’s get lucky.

It was about this time when the rain really started to get to me.

David Beckham’s bulge in white.

Merry gold already gone.

A gratuitous Luke Evans Speedo post.

A little lesson in alliteration.

Moonlight and starlight echoing through the trees.

Scratch and itch.

Disappointment.

Poised by the pool on the cusp of summer.

Stalled again by the rain, this diva vamps.

Shades of green and tranquility.

A white floral weekend.

A full bouquet from a single branch.

A second Father’s Day without a father.