Category Archives: Andy

A Husband’s Helpful Shadow

Giving credit where it is due, Andy has been especially helpful for the past couple of years when things have gotten difficult with family and life – and it’s in keeping with how he has mostly been over the past twenty-four years. The featured picture is from our ‘shades of gray‘ party – held in October of 2024 to celebrate the release of my ‘shades of gray’ project, which is going up now in blog posts here and there, to see us though this often-dour month. I’ll resume in the next post – for now, a fun look back with this photo, and the following up-to-date scene of what an average morning is like in our home.

ANDY, waking me up: “Did you oversleep?”

ME, waking in an immediate panic thinking I’m late for work: “Why?! What time is it?!?!”

ANDY: “It’s 8:20.”

ME, realizing it’s Saturday: “Wait, what day is it?”

ANDY, realizing it’s Saturday: “Oh. Well, you’re really late. You were supposed to be at work yesterday.”

 

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Happy Birthday Andy

Sitting on a bench and looking out at the turquoise and sapphire sea, we watched the waves come in, pulled by the moon. It had been just a little over twenty-four years since our first trip to Ogunquit together, and as impossibly far away and long ago as it felt, I remembered it distinctly, especially our first walk along the Marginal Way. Now, all this time later, Andy was still by my side, still providing the comfort and love that made the rainy days ok and the sunny days soar. 

Today is one of those very special sunny days, and it marks Andy’s birthday.  In honor of that, here are a few pics I managed to sneak on our recent trip to Maine. It’s one of his favorite places, and even all these years later it still provides a haven and a sanctuary when the rest of the world grows ever dimmer. It is here where we have been more ourselves than perhaps anywhere else, happily content to simply be – walking along this beautiful coastline, dining at familiar restaurants, and searching for the possibility of a beach day. 

Andy has usually been the bedrock of our home together – and home is wherever we might cuddle up for the night. Whether that’s Maine or New York or Boston, as long as he is there, that place is home. Since Andy’s never been one for big birthday celebrations, we’ll spend a quiet day at home per his usual request, capped by a family dinner and some vanilla cake. Happy Birthday, Drew – I love you. 

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Andy Has the Best Balls

Throughout this fall’s tumultuous online trajectory, one of the unheralded and all-too-often unseen pillars of support has been Andy. That’s typical the case in a general sense, but when I’m down or unsure, he seems to know when to be there, such as in this delicious comfort food dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. When the weather dips into the cycle of usual fall doldrums, a spaghetti dinner is one of those easy pick-me-ups that can shift the emotional arc of a day, or at the very least make dinner a bright spot. 

Andy makes amazing meatballs (as previously celebrated here) – it was one of the first meals he ever made for me back when we had just started dating. Over the years, he has experimented and perfected his recipe for sauce, and there is always a ready pot of it in the fridge on days when you need a little extra comfort. 

It also makes for a happy post to finish this early week of fall – come back for tomorrow morning’s recap to catch up on all the drama you might have missed for the past 49 years…

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Andy’s Towering Eggplant

Fresh off the culinary success of Andy’s take on fried green tomatoes, he went back into the kitchen to craft this insane tower of fried eggplant, interspersed with burrata, balsamic glaze, and fresh basil. We first had something like this at Angelina’s Restaurant in Ogunquit, Maine – and it was a welcome revelation. We went back there several times just for this dish. 

As we’re currently under the semi-annual spell of the deep fryer (we can only bring it out two or three times a year or we’d have heart attacks and die) it’s been a week of fried glory – next up is fried okra, courtesy of Suzie’s vegetable garden. 

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A Summer-Salvaging Moment by Andy

When we visited Savannah several years ago, Andy and I had a delicious dish of fried green tomatoes that turned me into a fan. To be fair, I’m a fan of fried anything, even if it’s an unripened tomato, and since then he’s been planning and plotting how to recreate that dish. When we put our fryer into its semi-annual rotation, he found a bag of green tomatoes and set up assembling a summer lunch that recalled and celebrated the best of the season, something of which I’d sort of lost sight and faith

He perfected it without any practice, producing this delicious dish of fried green tomatoes, augmented by a drizzle of balsamic glaze, some burrata, a sprinkling of green onions and some tomato chutney. It was just as good as the original.

It brought back happy memories of Savannah, happy memories of summer, and happy memories of Andy whenever he gets to work in the kitchen. We needed a happy moment here.

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Our 24th Anniversary

Andy and I met 24 years ago tonight, and we’ve used this as our real anniversary because for many years it wasn’t even legal for us to get married. (And it may not be again if we have a Republican President, so vote accordingly.) At the 24-year mark, we pause in quiet honor and gratitude for making it all this way – we’ll go all-out for #25 next July. For now, it’s a typical summer day – perhaps it will rain, as it did on the day we met. The rain that day proved quite fortuitous, which is something I keep in mind whenever I get down about a rainy day. 

We’ll go out for a quiet dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, and I have a special gift that will come to fruition next month, but otherwise it will be just another lovely day with Andy – the sort of happy life that whispered to me all those years ago, and that we have both worked to build for ourselves and our little family of two. 

Happy Anniversary Drew – I love you. 

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Who Are the Young Men

This piece of music from the AMC television series ‘Interview with the Vampire‘ (of which I am thrillingly enthralled at a time when not much on television enthralls me) struck me as incredibly moving, as it formed the backdrop to when two vampires met for the first time and didn’t realize they were at the beginning of a centuries-long love affair. No one knows at the beginning – we all think we do, but if we’re honest with ourselves, we never really know. Even if it turns out to last a lifetime, we didn’t know it at the time it began. All we knew was love

The first summer I met Andy wasn’t what we initially knew as our first summer – it was simply summer. Who could foresee the twenty-four years – and counting – that would follow? As much as I felt like it might be for more than a single summer, I didn’t truly know, and as much as I wanted it to be, I was only one-half of the equation. 

Looking back at our story, to the very genesis of how it began in the summer of 2000, I’m more and more touched by our innocence then, by the tenderness of how we learned to accept and love each other. Watching Andy clean the pool – something that seems like such a simple act – is a part of the daily mundane that I’ve come to appreciate as magical over the past few years, when the world has revealed itself to be so much less than kind. 

Back when we were the young men, maybe we just didn’t notice it. 

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An Unremarkably Remarkable Anniversary – Part 3

Just as we seemed to be getting accustomed to Boston life, it was almost time to return to Albany and resume the rigors of regular life. Before that, however, one more fancy dinner, this time at Amar, one of the restaurants at the Raffles Hotel – something that had sprung up without my giving it much notice in the midst of Back Bay. The entry-way provided the splash of excessive florals that I had originally been seeking for this anniversary

Amar was lovely, offering a bird’s-eye view of Back Bay, reminiscent of our wedding rehearsal dinner at the Top of the Hub. That restaurant has also disappeared, so out of our original wedding dining locales, only Mistral remains from fourteen years ago. 

On our way out, another spectacular display of flowers demanded a moment and a picture, then it was into the night after the sun had gone down during dinner. 

One of Boston’s bunnies, constant companions to us over these many years, wished us goodnight as it sat beneath a fragrant patch of Korean spice viburnum. The perfume of spring carried in the night air. 

Gardens glowed differently in the light of lamp-posts, such as this chartreuse variety of the bleeding heart. The evening itself gave off the sort of enchantment that only comes at this time of the year, when the ghostly blooms of the American dogwood on its sparsely elegant bare branches create an effect that is unmatched by the most splendorous of summer scenes. 

The next morning the sun was out, sending us off after another unremarkably remarkable visit to Boston – the very best kind of visit to make. Happy anniversary, Andy! Thank you for being with me on this crazy journey through life together. 

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An Unremarkably Remarkable Anniversary – Part 2

Our wedding anniversary tradition is to start the day with the cleaning of our wedding rings, which get spiffed up and shined at Shreve, Crump and Lowe, followed by a slow walk through the Boston Public Garden, the site of our wedding ceremony. In strangely glorious fashion, the moment we set foot into the garden transports us to a different world – the magical space and time when the mundane concerns of reality fall momentarily by the wayside, replaced by a happy reminder of what really matters, and what has always mattered most to us. 

Amid the occasional squawking of waterfowl and the mischievous mayhem of some overly-friendly and zealous squirrels, there is also a subdued solemnity during our time here, the same way a hush came over our ceremony fourteen years ago and no one else in the world seemed to exist other than Andy and me and our chosen guests. That special circle has dwindled over the years, as our fathers have already left us, but they were with us again on this day in our memories

Andy and I sat down on a bench that looked out at the spot where our ceremony had taken place. A gnarled old cherry tree was resplendent in full bloom, while a group of squirrels ran among its branches. We’ve always paused in our walk at some point, to take in the moment and the day, to remember and honor what we’ve been through, and where we’re headed. Love changes and evolves over the years, and it takes nurturing and care to keep it thriving. Here in this sacred place, we remember that day fourteen years ago… and all the days of the last twenty-four years. 

Before we left the garden, the sun peeked through the overcast sky – another little gift of the day. 

Across the street from the garden, we tried out the new-to-us Coterie at the Four Seasons. Our beloved Bristol Lounge – the site of our wedding lunch, and subsequent indulgences in their Chocolate Tower Cake – had closed years ago, but the new restaurant was lovely on a smaller scale, and we talked of how it would work well for next year’s anniversary, when we planned to bring all the living attendees of our wedding day back together while we are willing and able. 

The Public Garden had worked its romantic magic again, as we laid pans for next year, and one more dinner for this anniversary celebration. 

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An Unremarkably Remarkable Anniversary – Part 1

While today is our official wedding anniversary, Andy and I made an early long weekend of it in Boston since Tuesdays are hardly the ideal day of the week to celebrate anything. That means this entire day of posts (there are three in total, so do come back) commemorate our 14th anniversary, an unremarkably remarkable anniversary as we scouted locales for next year’s 15th. As is the way with such matters, 14 is a quieter number, but no less magical, and our time in Boston is always filled with a simple enchantment that brings us back to our original wedding weekend

Upon arriving, we were greeted with the bright blooms of the flowering spring trees – dogwoods and crab-apples and cherries – the typical gift that Boston has bestowed upon us rain or shine. April hints at the promise of spring ~ with May comes the delivery. 

That doesn’t mean it’s always sunny, even if it is our anniversary, and as our first afternoon darkened into evening, clouds appeared and a brief bout of rain began just as we tried to find our way to Bogie’s Place, a hidden little speakeasy and dining experience that proved as deliciously elusive as it was rewarding once we discovered its entrance. 

Passing through this colorful passageway, we were reminded that there are still adventures to be had even 14 years into our wedded journey, and almost 24 into our entire time together. It lent a warmth to the chilly descent of evening. 

An intimate dinner that began with cocktails and mocktails, and ended with a cozy plate of beignets, closed out our first night in Boston. That old anniversary magic was at work again…

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Anniversary Month

May also marks the month of our wedding anniversary, which usually brings us back to Boston for a celebration for two. That’s happening again this year, and in order to stoke the excitement, here’s a poem about that beloved city by E.B. White:

BOSTON IS LIKE NO OTHER PLACE
IN THE WORLD ONLY MORE SO
When I am out of funds and sorts
and life is all in snarls,
In Boston, life is smoother far,
Where every boy’s a Harvard man
And every man’s a skier.
There’s something in the Boston scene
So innocent, so tranquil,
It takes and holds my interest
The same as any bank will.
Rather I think that Boston is
A sort of state of grace.
The people’s lives in Boston
On Commonwealth, on Beacon,
They bow and speak and pass.
No lady ever dies;
No youth is ever wicked,
No infant ever cries.
No orthodox Bostonian
Is lonely or dejected,
For everyone in Boston
With everyone’s connected.
So intricate the pattern,
Becomes a jigsaw puzzle
Each Boston girl is swept along
Down the predestined channel
Alert in Brooksian flannel,
Magnificent in fallen socks,
His hair like stubble weeds,
His elbow patch an earnest of
The fellowship of tweeds.
It wakes celestial stings,
And I can sit in Boston
For Boston’s not a capital,
And Boston’s not a place;
Rather I feel that Boston is
The perfect state of grace.
~ E.B. White
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Three Days Approaching Powerless Bliss

A spring ice storm is an infuriating event. Even under the best of circumstances, which would typically find them blowing quickly over, the ice and snow disappearing as quickly and easily as they came, they are an annoyance, lending danger to a time of the year when we just want to get out from under winter. Our recent bout with an ice storm took out several power lines and plunged us into a cold darkness that lasted three days.

After COVID, and after last year, a few days without electricity was merely annoying, and not as trying as it would have been without a bit of perspective. Andy and I grew a little closer in the shared endeavor of basic survival in ‘Little House on the Prairie’ fashion, lighting candles and warming our tea kettle on the gas fireplace, sole source of warmth in our basement. Suzie would later remind me that I’m more Nellie Olsen than Laura Ingalls, and who could argue with Suzie?

By the time the electricity came back on three days after we lost it, Andy and I both seemed to feel a little let-down at the not-so-sudden return to bright light, television noise, and all the beeps and bells and humming wizardry of modern technological advances. As much as I had missed the convenience of electricity, I also suddenly missed the quiet and stillness that the power outage had given us, whether we realized how much we wanted it or not. 

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Jaxon Leads Uncle Andy

Watching Jaxon interact with Andy is one of the greatest joys of life these days. On a rainy Saturday night at the tail-end of winter, we had a family dinner celebrating belated birthdays of January and February, and when it was done we had some time with my Godson. 

Jaxon is growing in leaps and bounds, and just a few weeks reveal numerous changes and developments. It feels like only yesterday when he was still crawling carefully about – now he wants you to run and hide, then chase you and bring you back to where you began.

Andy was playing with him for a while, and when he tried to go back to a chair to join in the adult conversation, Jaxon walked over and pulled him back to play some more. Each time Andy returns to the chair, Jaxon would go back and grab at his hand, pulling him along to join him with his plastics cars and trucks. Andy got his exercise that night, until I played a quick bit of chase with Jaxon, which tuckered me out just as quickly. I’m not sure how many years of active engagement we might offer, but we’ll go until we can’t go anymore. 

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A Long and Slow Recuperation

It turns out that after all these years Andy is still a trooper. He finally gave me the approval to publish these photos of his recent hospital stay, where he underwent surgery for a hernia. He’s still unable to lift anything, and won’t be doing such exertion for at least three months. I’ve also been told my several other people who have had hernia surgery that the recuperation period is long and sometimes painful. It’s meant some readjustments here at home, but I was due to learn how to unload the dishwasher at some point… 

It’s just another reminder of the gradual, and gradually accelerating, not-so-slow roll of age. The advance of years, and the encroachment of health issues, form a double-pronged area of concern, at a time when adulting without health issues is hard enough. At any rate, we will get through it together, and I don’t mind switching up roles of responsibility for a stretch. We’ll see if he minds the way things get done…

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A Somber Christmas Moment

While I’ve been outwardly going through the motions at work, on this blog, and at most social events I’ve attended of late, underneath it all I’m not feeling the seasonal happiness that Christmas, at its best, often affords. Given that this is our first Christmas without Dad, I’m not forcing myself to find mirth and glee in anything right now, nor am I shutting myself off from any happiness and good-will that might present itself. I’ve been in a state of blah, seeking out cozy moments of quiet, and more often than not of solitude, or spending time with Andy watching silly Christmas movies (he’s the one who introduced me to the wonder of ‘National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation’ and ‘It Happened on Fifth Avenue’). I’ve also done my best to put a seasonally appropriate spin on these blog posts, sprinkling some added sparkle and pizzazz to whatever I’m recounting in an effort to conjure cheer and enchantment. 

Andy has been helpful to that end, indulging in holiday traditions as they come up, but not pushing us toward things we don’t want or need to do. I like to remember our first Christmas together, in which we hung stockings I’d made with our names on them over the fireplace that Andy had at his old house. We were still new to each other, and finding our own Christmas traditions would take years – years the I happily took to make our way together.  That first Christmas was also the Christmas I met his parents for the first time, which resulted in this never-to-be-forgotten introduction to his Mom’s highball

We have many holiday memories of my parents and family as well, and most are happy ones, which I will rekindle whenever I feel myself losing the way of the season. Those come loaded with bittersweet accents now, as the group we once were dwindles with each passing year

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