Category Archives: Andy

06
February
2026
Tags: Andy, Family
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A Happy Timeline Cleanse

If your social media feeds are filled with as much awfulness as mine these days, you might appreciate this timeline cleanse which features Uncle Andy playing cars with his nephew Jaxon Layne. It’s one of my favorite photos and always brings joy whenever it happens across my phone or laptop.

We recently had a fun birthday dinner for Landrie, and Jaxon was there entertaining all of us. I may have inadvertently encouraged use of a bad word, forgetting that children will listen. I was kidding around with Noah and instructing him to just “Do the shit!” his father had asked him to do, and Jaxon heard every word perfectly, precisely repeating my scream of “Do the shit!” in the next room.

My training of and engagement with the twins didn’t begin in earnest until they were about five or six years old – Jaxon’s education may start earlier, and he may ready for the man, the myth, and the bad influence of Uncle Al. As Auntie Mame instructed Mr. Babcock, “Knowledge is power!”

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20
December
2025
Tags: Andy, Holiday
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My Favorite Thing to Sit Upon

This really should have been a proper Holiday Card, but since it wasn’t I’ll just keep reposting it when Christmas rolls around – it will always tickle me and me nether regions in the warmest and fuzziest way.

I’ve sat on this Santa’s lap before as seen in this previous seasonal post, and whenever Andy lets loose and joins in my creative madness it’s a special sort of thrill. He gamely donned this Santa’s get-up and sat beside our tree while I got into a pair of silly pajamas and pranced about in my usual form. It was a very fun photo shoot, and remains a favorite holiday memory.

We don’t always have the entire say in what memories pop up, or when they decide to rear their heads, but we can embrace and engage with the good ones, while acknowledging and letting the bad ones go. I’ll hold onto this happy one for as long as possible.

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20
October
2025
Tags: Andy
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A Husband’s Birthday

Today is Andy’s birthday, so if you see him or have his number, be sure to wish him as much. He’s still my favorite person in the world, and we still have fun, which at twenty-five years in is saying quite a bit. Here are a couple of shots from recent adventures – Andy’s always up for a good steak dinner and a fancy Uber ride to get there. 

Happy birthday Drew – I love you – and many happy returns of the day!

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23
July
2025
Tags: Andy
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Before & After Andy

Two photos, taken a number of important months apart.

The first was from the winter of 2000.

The second was from the summer of 2000.

One from the time before Andy.

One from the time after Andy.

You can see how I got my smile back.

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23
July
2025
Tags: Andy
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25 Years Ago I Met the Man I Would Marry

Destiny and Fate aren’t fond of the overt gesture, preferring to whisper, nudge, cajole and hint at what they want. If we miss it the first time around, they’ll often come back with somewhat greater urgency, trying to ensure the right path for those who might be turning the wrong way. By the time I met Andy, I knew enough to follow the delicate directions of the heart, trusting in where they were taking us, and after twenty-five years together, they have never steered us wrongly.

On that fateful Sunday evening, after a day of rain and ennui in my hometown, I made my way to Oh Bar and sat down alone at the rather empty environs, happily single for the first time in perhaps forever. Enter Fate and Destiny, those whimsical twins who pushed Andy into the bar at the same time. After a friend’s cheeky introduction, we spent the night talking, while the rest of the world fell away. I still think of looking into Andy’s eyes as midnight ticked by – a moment in time stilled in my mind, forever repeating in giddy, transfixing fashion. I followed him home – and from that day forward, wherever we found ourselves was home, as long as we were together. When we fought or grew distant, the world felt wrong, and it would only be righted when we found our way back to each other.

If there’s one thing that has kept our relationship interesting and fascinating, and something I never quite take for granted, is the way that we tackle and take each day as it comes – grateful for another day to spend together, thankful for the partner I have on this journey. These past few years, our love has taken on a slightly different resonance, its glow somehow more intense and lovely, and sometimes I find myself watching Andy at some mundane task and feeling my heart burst with love – unsaid, unhyped, united love.

Ten years after we first met, we sat across from each other at another table, high above Boston, in a restaurant we were considering for our wedding rehearsal dinner. A young couple was seated beside us – they couldn’t have been more than teenagers on one of their first dates – and somehow talk turned to how long we’d been together – we said ten years and both of them marveled and offered their congratulations; once again, we felt the approving nods of Destiny and Fate.

It would be a recurring motif – looking over at Andy across some table or room – and feeling gratitude and happiness for what we have created together: this third entity called love, this idea called home. Twenty-five years later, we still feel it, it’s still there – guiding us, holding us together when life grows difficult, celebrating us when life agrees to smile, keeping us together when the world sometimes seems to want to break everyone apart.

A lot has happened in the last quarter century – and I’ve been lucky enough to experience all of it with my husband. Happy 25th, Andy ~ I love you. Here’s to the next 25…

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27
June
2025
Tags: Andy, Music
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Magic is the Moonlight

While we’ve already celebrated this song here, that was six years prior, and that’s an entire pandemic and lifetime ago. Before we end the month of June, let’s revisit this magical piece of music as performed by Julie London, as it comes with a happy recent memory. On our Memorial Day weekend in Ogunquit, the weather was often rainy, so we sometimes took our shelter in the title shops along Main Street. On one particular gray morning, we found ourselves in a charming little store with beautiful jewelry and pieces of art, a few antiques and some whimsical walking canes. This song came on, and though the sky felt melancholy, I looked over at my husband inspecting something and felt a wave of love wash over us, all these years after our very first trip to this Beautiful Place By The Sea twenty-five years ago. The moment felt magical…

Throughout the ensuing years, there were always magical moments that appeared quietly and when least expected, little times where I’d glimpse Andy doing something endearing, or simply going through the motions of the day, and I felt the reassurance and warmth of the life we created together. Many cycles of moons and suns have turned over during all these years, and in some ways many lifetimes. Depending on perspective a lifetime can be a day or a century, and time’s only way is forward. For this moment of moonlight and magic, we give respectful pause.

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07
May
2025
Tags: Andy, Boston
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Out 15th Wedding Anniversary ~ Part Two

The weather for this past weekend in Boston was predicted as rainy, but as Saturday dawned the sun was still out – so much so that the temperatures reached up toward the 80’s – the first glorious weather we’ve had in quite some time. Andy and I took our traditional jaunt to Shreve, Crump and Low for the washing of the wedding rings, and then made our way to the Boston Public Garden, where we met our group. 

It was similarly fine weather to the atmosphere we had on our actual wedding day. On subsequent anniversaries, we’ve had rain and cool weather, but we’ve always managed to make our way to the Public Garden at least once around this time of the year. 

Time marches us all onward, whether we like it or not, but here in the Garden it seems to slow and still for a moment, pausing to honor and remember what we’ve lost over the years, what we’ve found, and what we’ve managed to keep. 

Suzie was always one to strike a pose. 

(Beauty’s where you find it.)

Spring was still a little behind here too – the leaves were just coming out, and there were no wedding cake flowers in bloom yet (Viburnum) but the tulips were at their peak, and the green that was on display was that glorious chartreuse shade that signals the earliest spring days – when all is hope and possibility and summer right around the corner. 

Fifteen years ago we stood in this same space, taking our vows in front of the people we loved most. All this time later we’ve somehow managed to keep those vows going, by remembering to be kind, remembering to be patient and forgiving with each other, and remembering the love. 

Elaine took us to lunch across the street at Bistro du Midi, the same way we lunched at the Four Seasons right after our original wedding ceremony. After that, we had the afternoon to lazily enjoy the city, and a nap, before we met again in our hotel before dinner. This had already become a quick little tradition, and was one of those jewels of time with our favorite people that somehow meant more than we anticipated. I already understood how much I was going to miss it. 

For our final dinner, courtesy of Mom, we chose Mistral. It was the only restaurant from the original slate fifteen years ago that was still in operation – and deservedly so. We’ve gone back several times over the years, for anniversaries and birthdays and other special dates, and it remains one of the best dining experiences in Boston. (And entirely worthy of this coat.)

While it had finally rained during our ride over to Mistral, by the time dinner was done the rain had stopped, the moon was a crescent nestled in a few clouds, and it was still warm enough to walk back to our hotel. 

All these years later, Andy still likes being silly when I’m trying to take a picture, and I still laugh when he does. 

Happy 15th Anniversary to my husband – and many thanks to all our family and friends who joined in our celebration this year.

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07
May
2025
Tags: Andy, Boston
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Our 15th Wedding Anniversary ~ Part One

Fifteen years ago today, Andy and I were married in the Boston Public Garden, and this past weekend we made our way back there with some special guests from that original wedding weekend. Mom arrived first, as she and Suzie were preparing the arrival reception at the condo. We arrived shortly afterward, dropping our bags at the Fairmont Copley Plaza, then making our way along the Southwest Corridor Park, where just about everything was in bloom. The weather would prove fortuitously lovely for almost the entire weekend, something that hadn’t always been in the predicate cards, so we welcomed every sunny moment as it came. 

Suzie and Elaine arrived next, with Chris shortly thereafter, and the arrival reception began with a charcuterie spread that rivaled the beauty of the gardens outside. 

We decompressed and relaxed into the weekend, beginning a run of amazing food and indulgent dining. 

The Fairmont Copley Plaza texted when our room was ready, so we headed back and checked into the Public Library Suite, which was my gift to Andy for our 15th. 

The Fairmont was sweet enough to send up some chocolate-covered strawberries to a Mr. and Mrs. Ilagan, which gave everyone a chuckle. 

Our group reconvened in the suite to have some quiet quality time before dinner. 

Now, a word on the fashion. I’ve been embracing a more casual and relaxed silhouette these days, which actually echoes our actual wedding ceremony outfits (we wore jeans and polo shirts). Still, my past outfits were very much colorful and outrageous, so to bridge that with where I am today, there was one outfit that was designed to be frilly and fanciful and over-the-top. To that end, this winter I found myself sewing a multitude of silk flowers onto a pink linen jacket I’d picked up on last year’s Broadway trip to New York. It was inspired by cherry blossoms and peonies – both of which have meant a lot to Andy and I over the years. 

Dinner at Mooo was a delicious experience, decadent and divine, and so filling that Suzie and Chris and I decided to walk back while Andy and the Moms hopped into a car – an homage to our last night as bachelors fifteen years ago. 

A walk on a beautiful Boston night brings back the history – our own and the city’s. 

We meandered through the Boston Public Garden – a sneak preview of the next morning’s anniversary stroll.

These two took good care of me, seeing me back to the hotel in safety and style. 

We reached the Fairmont, and found the peonies – a mainstay of most of our anniversaries.

And just in case we didn’t find them, they were on my jacket. 

And here’s a look back at the original weekend:

Part 1: The Arrival & Accommodations

Part 2: The Rehearsal Dinner

Part 3: The Last Call of a Bachelor

Part 4: The Dawn of the Wedding Day

Part 5: The Ceremony

Part 6: The Perfect Day in the Park

Part 7: The Wedding Lunch

Part 8: The Wedding Dinner

Bonus Post: The Residual Glow of Marriage

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06
May
2025
Tags: Andy, Cologne, Music
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Imagination by Louis Vuitton

Considered by some to be the Holy Grail of fragrances right now, ‘Imagination’ by Louis Vuitton is rightfully renowned for its exquisite soapy, tea-like charm, and remarkable performance. It’s an almost-impossible balancing act – to be both delicate and long-lasting, and for that reason this is justified in its exorbitant price point. It’s a very special bottle, and Andy was kind enough to gift me this one for our 15th wedding anniversary. There is something magical about making a scent memory, and pairing it with a fragrance as precious as this makes for the sort of enchantment that comes around once every fifteen years. Cue some Ella Fitzgerald singing the title song of this post:

Imagination is funny
It makes a cloudy day sunny
Makes a bee think of honey
Just as I think of you

Imagination is crazy
Your whole perspective gets hazy
Starts you asking a daisy
“What to do, what to do?”

Have you ever felt a gentle touch and then a kiss?
And then and then, find it’s only your imagination again?
Oh, well…

It begins with a classic citrus burst of Calabrian bergamot that quickly gives way to a fizzy, slightly fruity concoction of black tea, ginger and neroli. Ambroxan gives it a lasting thread, wherein some spicy and woody notes intermingle, pulling out more of the tea and amber vibes. At three hours, it’s still quite close to its original incarnation, minus the glorious citrus. At eight hours, it’s still pleasantly vibing, sparkling on whatever lucky piece of clothing happened to pick some up. 

Andy helped me make a wedding memory with some help from ‘Green Irish Tweed’ by Creed for our wedding day – fifteen years later, he helped conjure a new scent moment, and some new memories, coming tomorrow… 

Imagination is silly
You go around willy-nilly
For example, I go around wanting you
And yet I can’t imagine that you want me too

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14
March
2025
Tags: Andy, Music
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Even Good Boys Bleed

My husband, retired police officer and former upholder of rule and law, seems to have had a thing for bad boys, at least judging from his line up of formers and one terror of a hubby. He may have been the one wearing a ‘Get Wicked Tonight‘ t-shirt the first time he met my parents, but I got buzzed on a high ball with his Mom the first time I met his. 

Being that this year marks our 25th anniversary of meeting (and 15th of being married) our early days have been on my mind of late. That kind of nostalgia is warm and sustaining, and sometimes it’s been what’s seen us through the rough days. As Andy once said to me at a difficult moment, “There’s history there.” I don’t think he realized how much I took that to heart, and how much I took him to heart. 

The good girl in your dreams is mad you’re lovin’ me
I know you wish that she was me
How bad, bad do you want me?
You’re not the guy that cheats and you’re afraid that she might leave
‘Cause if I get too close, she might scream, “How bad, bad do you want me?”

‘Cause you like my hair, my ripped-up jeans
You like the bad girl I got in me
She’s on your mind, like, all the time, but I got a tattoo for us last week
Even good boys bleed
How bad, bad do you want me? 
‘Cause you hate the crash, but you love the rush
And I’ll make your heart weak every time
You hear my name, ’cause she’s in your brain and I’m here to kiss you in real life
‘Bout to cause a scene, How bad, bad do you want me?

Before we ever met, Andy had seen me in Oh Bar when Suzie and I were out for a night of fun. I didn’t notice him, but he noticed me (and dismissed me with a ‘Bitchy Queen’ sizing-up assessment of my attitude. He would later tell me that when I walked by him the Jimi Hendrix song ‘Foxy Lady’ came to his mind. 

Back in the beginning of our relationship, for one of our earliest get-togethers, I invited him for a pasta dinner at my parents’ home – they were out for the night. I made what I thought was a funny comment, but it was more cutting than anything else for him, and we had our first fight, which ended with him leaving. It was so early in our dating that I simply stood my ground and refused to yield or admit that I might have been wrong in what I said or how I said it. We didn’t know each other’s histories or trigger points then, and we didn’t quite know how special what we had would turn out to be. 

You panic in your sleep and you feel like such a creep 
‘Cause with your eyes closed, you might peek
So hot, hot that you can’t speak
You’re so fucked up with your crew but when you’re all alone, it’s true 
You know exactly what we’d do – How bad, bad do you want to?

I was a bit of a hellion in those early days – at the young age of 25, I was just beginning to figure out exactly who I was, and it wasn’t easy. I didn’t always make it easy for Andy, or anyone in my life in those days, and if being bad was wrong, I never wanted to be right. There was a razor-sharp edge to how I acted in those days, and while I tried not to cut Andy as soon as I understood his sensitivity, it couldn’t help but happen sometimes. Hurt people hurt people no matter how careful we try to be, and in those days everyone around me ended up getting hurt. Those streets ran both ways though, and it’s not entirely accurate to paint me as the villain in every scenario. Not that I’d have been averse to such a characterization, and something told me Andy secretly thrilled at some of my more diabolical machinations. As I said, he didn’t mind a bad boy. 

Which brings me to this latest Lady Gaga song, ‘How Bad Do U Want Me?’ I’m completely obsessed with it and all of its layered meanings. There’s the literal reading of its title, which seems to be a simple question of how badly you want or desire someone. A slightly deeper digs brings out the more resonant idea of someone questioning how bad they want their paramour to actually be, and how bad the object of one’s affection may actually want to be. It also posits the question of what exactly is bad? 

‘Cause you like my hair, my ripped-up jeans
You like the bad girl I got in me
She’s on your mind, like, all the time, But I got a tattoo for us last week
Even good boys bleed
How bad, bad do you want me? 
‘Cause you hate the crash, but you love the rush
And I’ll make your heart weak every time
You hear my name, ’cause she’s in your brain and I’m here to kiss you in real life
‘Bout to cause a scene – How bad, bad do you want me?

Over twenty five years, I slowly, and mostly, grew out of my bad boy eras, and at times Andy had his own bad boy moments, flip-flopping our roles and jolting us into an awareness of how precious and precarious love could be. I also grew to realize, with friends who stuck with me for decades, that I couldn’t be entirely bad all the time; the truly bad and the awful among us simply do not maintain friendships for that long. Sometimes we mistake being young for being bad. 

And sometimes being bad is the best thing you can be. 

Uh-oh, oh, you love a good girl
Uh-oh, oh, you love a good girl bad
Uh-oh, oh, you make a bad girl
Uh-oh, oh, you make a bad girl mad
A psychotic love theme
How bad do you want me?

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04
March
2025
Tags: Andy, Food
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A Heartwarming Meal by Andy

Andy’s first attempt at chicken adobo – that classic Filipino dish – was a resounding success, despite my mis-remembering the exact ratio of rice vinegar needed (it’s a party forgiving recipe). Having him make this ancestral dinner was a surprising and heartwarming gift of a very long winter. When he took over the chicken curry dish I made early on in our relationship, he elevated and perfected it, so I’m looking forward to future adobo endeavors. 

These little things that spark joy in our day-to-day existence are the true jewels of a life. Too often they seem incidental or mundane – those in-between moments that tie bigger events together – but they are the real events, if only we knew enough to honor them as they came. 

My husband making a dish beloved by my father is just this sort of moment. 

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13
December
2024
Tags: Andy, Food
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An Endless Omelette By Andy

One of the rediscovered joys of this holiday season has been home-time with Andy. While it’s always been something I’ve appreciated and adored, it means a bit more as the world around us shudders with awfulness, and even those people we thought would be with us forever dwindle and disappear. A time of uncertainty brings a time of realignment, and finding refuge in a partner is the safest bastion against an ever-threatening world. 

On a recent morning I requested one of his omelettes – he opted for a ham and cheese, and turned it into an endless plate of delectable goodness, one that went on almost too long for me to finish it. Almost – I can fit a lot into my mouth and stomach (just ask Andy how I got the nickname ‘Gummie’). When you fill the stomach with a meal made by a loved one, you fill the heart as well, and a full heart is how the holidays should be celebrated. 

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12
December
2024
Tags: Andy
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A Day of Comfort

This fall season has been about boundaries and protection, of fortifying the heart and home against threats past, present and future. It’s strange the way things that have happened so long ago still have the power to hurt, especially when viewed in greater retrospect so that patterns and repeated offenses are seen in their diabolical totality. Perhaps because of the immensity that such realizations occupy in the mind, I’ve had to take things slowly, distancing myself from similar situations and retreating to the people I love and trust.

Thankfully, Andy has been a trooper and pillar of support, even if I haven’t quite shared everything that has been evolving in my head regarding my family. He senses a downtrodden sense of hurt running through my days now, juxtaposed with a sense of freedom that balances things out with a lightness, and I’ve done my best to keep him free of familial drama. 

As I navigate how to work through this without burning it all down to the ground, he’s been a kind and patient husband, and last Saturday he turned a dim day into a warm one of holiday happiness, which is the last thing I expected. It began with a ham and cheese omelette (pictures of appreciation in a later post), and as I spent most of the day writing in the attic, he snuck out to pick up our Christmas tree – something he’s done for most of the past twenty four Christmases. I took a nap, and when I woke not only was the house filled with the delightful perfume of fresh balsam pine, there was an intermingling scent of beef stew boiling away on the stovetop. A day of comfort and coziness, courtesy of the person I gave my heart to all those years ago. 

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15
November
2024
Tags: Andy, Flowers
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A Magical Flower from a Magical Man

We hadn’t planned on having flowers at our wedding ceremony, but when Suzie showed up with a bouquet of peonies for the day it was the perfectly serendipitous accent that has since come to symbolize that happy event. We return to them every May, and whenever they bloom in the garden they evoke wonderful memories. Given the sorry state of the world right now, I’ve been bringing Andy a couple of bouquets of roses – a reminder that there is still beauty to be found, and there is still love no matter what else is happening. 

He brought me a bouquet of peonies – a trio of large pink blooms that promptly began opening, even in the middle of the night, as soon as I put them in some warm water. They were not the fully double pom-pom versions that are ubiquitous in old-fashioned gardens. These were more delicate, and what they lacked in petal count and fragrance they more than made up for in other ways. 

The next morning, they were open completely, and the deep pink hue had softened to a softer pastel color – even more delicate and elegant than the bombastic shade they first showed off. This was where the magic began – as the hours went by, and it actually happened that quickly, the transformation became more profound and beautiful. 

As shades of pink drained from the petals, they took on a creamy glow, almost translucent in the light. And then the last part of the show began, as the petals took on a deeper shade of yellow, echoing the golden stems of their stamens. A truly magical performance, courtesy of a magical man. Andy’s been saddened and worried about the likely effect that this election will have on the federal recognition of our marriage, but I reminded him that we were together for ten years before it was legal anywhere, and we would be ok again. Legal terms, papers, and even flowers fade and wither, but love can never be destroyed. 

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08
November
2024
Tags: Andy, Writing
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Andy’s Mom: Shades of Gray

   ~ ~ ~  f r o m   O C T O B E R    2 0 0 4 ~ ~ ~

Though she died a few years ago, the wound is still fresh. In happy moments he forgets, but then the happiness serves as a reminder, and he seems to hunt for why he has to be unhappy. His grief is like a severed limb – invisible, phantom thing of pain – there but not there, and, somehow, always with him.

Sometimes he is happy to remember her – a smile at the scent of her favorite rose, a laugh at a salty memory, a spunky phrase she once uttered – and then he is lost again. 

He finds solace in baking her old recipes. A calm settles around him in the kitchen. Bending over a simmering sauce of tomatoes and fresh basil, or rolling out the dough for an apple pie, he is best when he is busy. He thinks she is with him then, or maybe that he is cooking for her again, like he used to do. 

He sleeps late when the pain and the night inspire to keep him up. Waking, alone, he plods to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. The scene outside the window changes with the seasons – the light slowly shifting, shadows lengthening or shortening, but it’s difficult to detect day to day. Only the occasional burst of a storm or the gray water vapor of a January thaw make any discernible difference. He draws the shades and looks out the window. The world is quiet from inside. 

 

~SHADES OF GRAY~

Midway Through Life

Gray Ghost 1

A Bagel in Boston

At the Mall

Gray Ghost 2

Squirrelly

Brother 1

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