Category Archives: General

August stalls, and bides its time as summer catches up to it. Yesterday I had this epic Summer Olympics recap, so I too stalled and vamped and delayed the weekly recap until this Tuesday Morning. Let’s play catch-up now – take a few deep breaths and indulge in the last few posts you may have missed:

A rainbow hydrant grows in Amsterdam, NY.

Atta boy, attic boy.

Bamboo harmony.

Painted leaves on fern-like dreams.

Stunning in scarlet.

A sacrificial parsley plant.

These shades speak to me.

Rose of mystery.

A meditation in two parts: Part One and Part Two.

The Madonna Timeline returned to the blog and begged the question, ‘What Can You Lose?’

Mocktail hour was at hand with this fabulous faux daiquiri. 

The final Spotlights of these Olympics fell on Lamont Marcell Jacobs and Kyle Dake.

Dazzlers of the Day included Karsten Warholm, Jasmine Camacho-Quinn, Noah Lyles, Raven Saunders, Gabby Thomas, Adam Driver and Matt Iseman.

When I mentioned the dilemma of wanting to meditate but wanting to be outside for summer my therapist recommended taking the practice into the outdoors. It was a simple but effective lesson – and helpfully nudged me into thinking of my meditation in a less strict and structured format, something my Virgo nature initially bristled at before indulging completely.  

Sitting in the lounge chair beside a curtain of sweet potato vines, I set the timer for fifteen minutes. The sounds of the wind and the birdsong made for a tranquil background.

It went by quicker than expected and reconnected me to a place of mindfulness. When the chimes softly rang, I opened my eyes and saw a hummingbird flitting from tubular blossom to blossom in the purple salvia plant on the patio. At first it looked gray, but when it darted into the sunlight I could see it was a dark green iridescent color with tail feathers that were arranged in alternating stripes of black and white. As if to awaken me from my meditation and into a more mindful state, it informed the rest of the afternoon. 

Soon after that Andy appeared and asked if I’d seen the cloud of white butterflies that had descended upon the cup plant and lavender patch. The world was alive on this sunny Saturday, and I solemnly took my small place in it. 

Given the excessive rain of this summer season, I’ve had ample time to spend indoors and not feel guilty about it. That dovetails nicely with the cleaning up of our attic loft space, which has already hosted a favorite friend. It’s also been the perfect place for office video conferences – removed from the main floor so I don’t annoy Andy, and quiet enough for no interruptions from the endless parade of Amazon deliveries. 

It’s also become a favored place to write these blog posts. Some of Grieg’s Lyric pieces have formed the aural backdrop to these sessions, creating a sacred space of calm and serenity, while also inspiring with their beauty and musical journey.

So much of my life has been a search for sanctuary. In all of the homes I’ve had over my lifetime, there are those moments when one doesn’t feel safe or secure – and for that reason I’ve always striven to find a sense of sanctuary within. Meditation has led me closer to this, but it never hurts to have an actual physical space in which to sit still and simply exist. This little attic loft has provided such a haven, and for the first time in forever I’m not absolutely dreading the arrival of winter now that such a cozy nook exists.  

Currently it’s decked out, not decked out as the case may be, in a crisp and minimal wardrobe of white and cream, and come fall I’ll add an ample supply of blankets and additional pillows to add to the coziness, while bringing in more candles and comforts in an effort to conjure the wondrous spirit of hygge.

We’ve got almost two more months of summer left, however, and the universe owes us some sunny and sultry weeks to make up for the relatively disastrous spell of weather we’ve had. I’ve reconciled myself to accepting if this doesn’t happen, and having this attic space has played a big part in that. Beauty remains a balm, serenity remains a refuge, and I can still muster a smile in such surroundings. 

This rainbow-painted fire hydrant resides near my childhood home in Amsterdam, NY. I’d bet a great many things that this was not done for any sort of LGBTQIA+ Pride, but regardless of the reason, it’s a lovely sight. 

The Duchess Ivanna mentioned she was listening to Dinah Washington last week, and so Ms. Washington has been on the playlist for these crazy, hazy summer days. Of particular adoration is this classic – ‘A Sunday Kind of Love’ – which speaks to the kind of love that lasts beyond the initial infatuation and Saturday night fun. Perfect sentiment as we cross into the mid-section of summer. 

I want a Sunday kind of love
A love to last, past Saturday night
I’d like to know, it’s more than love at first sight
I want a Sunday kind of love

I want a love that’s on the square
Can’t seem to find somebody to care
I’m on a lonely road that leads to nowhere
I need a Sunday kind of love

I do all my Sunday dreaming and all my Sunday scheming
Every minute, every hour, every day
I’m hoping to discover a certain kind of lover
Who will show me the way

My arms need someone to enfold
To keep me warm when Mondays are cold
A love for all my life to have and to hold
I want a Sunday kind of love

A couple of sunny days do not a summer make, so until we have a stretch of warm weather it feels like this summer has been stalled, if it ever really got started in the first place. Still, we trudge along, and the tomatoes are just starting to ripen, so some things are happening, even if it doesn’t quite feel like it. On with the weekly recap…

The cup plant returned to bloom.

Tuesday tea blues.

A summer reunion with two dear friends. Here’s to Estonia! 

Rainy day reading.

The Jonas Brothers do the Olympics.

Waterlogged.

Lilac lining.

An anniversary letter to my husband, 21 years to the day we met.

When the power goes out, a return to mindfulness.

Purple ballooning.

Summer reignited.

A shirtless Pete Buttigieg goes jogging. 

The Summer Olympics, delayed from 2020, finally kicked off in Tokyo, and the Olympic Spotlight feature returned with Brody Malone, Chase Kalisz, and Yul Moldauer. 

Dazzlers of the Day included Ricky Schroeder (the cool one), Sarah Paulson, Nam Vo, Pita Taufatofua, Ben Percival, and Victoria Beckham.

When I revamped our attic loft it wasn’t entirely with the intent of spending the entire summer there. I’d have much I referred to spend this season mostly outside by the pool. Mother Nature isn’t keen on allowing that to happen, and with more rain than sun in the cycle of late, I find myself in the attic, the only solace on a rainy day.

Here, the rain, when it’s heavy enough, forms a comforting drone of sound on the roof, lending the space an atmosphere of coziness. It’s the perfect place for hunkering down in the chaise lounge with a blanket, a book, and a cup of hot tea. A good sign for the fall and winter that will be here before we want them. 

For now, it’s a lovely escape from all the rainy weather we’ve had – a minor solace of peace and calm no matter how wild the wind gets. Getting back to such basics is not a bad thing. In the first flush of summer, and the excitement of the pool, I’ve been neglecting these simple pleasures. Maybe this rain is the universe telling us to slow down and inhabit the gray days too. 

The last time I saw my friend JoAnn was in the receiving line for her Mom’s wake. It was in late 2019, and the sadness and loss that characterized that occasion would linger well into 2020 and beyond, so reuniting with JoAnn carried special import. We’d been in touch via regular texts and a few Zoom meetings, along with the traditional letter (does anyone write letters anymore?) but there’s something about the human experience that demands the closeness and proximity of an in-person visit. Sometimes more can be said in simply sitting beside an old friend in silence than could ever be conveyed in words or letters or phone chats. 

JoAnn’s room was accented by a single small vase of garden daisies, but she arrived with bushels of the kind of hydrangeas that only Cape Cod can produce – putting out pale blue and pink ‘Endless Summer’ variety to faded shame. These were the hydrangeas in her mother’s garden – the ones I had first seen so many decades ago on that brilliant summer day when she first introduced me to her family. 

Andy once explained that the first time he felt himself healing just the slightest bit from his Mom’s death was when he started to remember her and instead of feeling profound sadness or grief, he felt a little smile start to form on his lips. I think JoAnn is almost there, but there will always be that hole, always be that little bit of grief that pops up when they want to share something with their Moms. We felt it without having to explain it, and that kind of shared humanity was sorely missed from the last year and a half. We tried to make up for it, and we did. It was enough just to be together. 

Together also meant Ali’s joining in the festivities. Fast friends ever since we drove back to Boston in the middle of a snowstorm together, she’s also Andy’s special connection, and having everyone reunited in our home – the very first overnight guests since the nightmare of COVID stalled all our lives – brought a bit of happiness back. 

The next morning, originally slated to be as rainy and messy as the night of their arrival, miraculously cleared for a few hours. The temperatures reached into the 80’s, and we spent the mid-morning in the pool, catching up and laughing and talking of everything and nothing at once. 

Time passes much too quickly when old friends haven’t seen each other in a while. Maybe it was the isolation of COVID that made us value this visit a bit more, that caused us to lean into the quieter moments and not seek out the elusive high of hype and hoopla. Maybe after over a year of being apart we held a little tighter to each other now knowing what it was like to be apart for a long time. Simple being together was a gift.

And then there was this other gift, a surprise left by JoAnn that I discovered in the sad hours after their early Sunday departure. In such moments, when my girls have just left, and Andy is still asleep, I always feel a desire to weep a little, while at the same time my heart wants to burst from the happiness of the time we were lucky to have together. Lingering at the front door, I’ll watch as their car pulls away, then slowly step back into the living room. The world seems a little lonelier then.

On this morning, however, I walked into the bathroom and a sparkle in the cologne cabinet caught my eye. On the Tom Ford shelf was this surprise gift of ‘Lavender Extreme’ from JoAnn. My heart caught in my throat, and the touching generosity and goodness of a friend I’ve known and loved for over two decades washed over me, somehow letting me know that there were still such lovely people in this world. 

We have plans to meet in the Cape and New Bedford this coming fall, if the world will be so kind enough as to allow it. In the meantime, we have a new stockpile of happy memories to see us through the remaining summer.