Instead, I take a rainy night and turn it into an abstract study in contemplation, painting it somewhere in my mind and streaking it with blurry lines that obfuscate as much as reveal. Strange and wonderful the way rain brings the streetlights to electric, reflecting light; this is why they wet the pavement when they shoot movies. Once you notice that you’ll see it in every outside movie street scene.
Like the index tree, privet doesn’t shout its presence with bold and colorful flowers – it speaks solely through its sweet and somewhat subtle fragrance. When appearing en masse during their blooming season, it manages to fill the surrounding air with a lovely perfume, and most don’t know where it’s coming from since the show is far short of grand ostentation. It speaks to me more sweetly because of this.
Like some paper moon, this bamboo lamp casts a starburst of shadows before a branch of coral bark maple. A scene from the Floating World perhaps, centuries ago, that replays itself in varying versions over all the ensuing years. What remains is the beauty, the lingering sigh, that feeling of being so full you want to squeeze someone’s hand to realize your place is still of this earth. Rainy summer evenings make for some of the saddest times, such gloom at direct odds with the season of the sun. One expects the dreary stuff in fall or winter; summer makes the sting more acute.
This is when we find solace in the interior. This is why we make our rooms as pretty and peaceful as possible. This is where a branch of maple leaves becomes a portal to another century, another place. This is the space where music speaks for longing.
Keeping that in mind, I endeavor to embrace the moment, rainy night and everything that goes along with it – the stickiness, the air with enough coolness to give it just an edge, the purgatorial wait until the sun comes up and out again. A rainy summer night is right in its own way, it carries its own beauty hand in hand with its darkness. Still, I yearn for light…
While his song ‘Cruising’ came out a few years ago, it still makes for the perfect summer bop, so give it a listen down below. Before that, check out Matt Harkenrider’s entire body of work for an illustration of why he has been named the Dazzler of the Day. Catchy melodies, infectious fun, and visuals that are more than easy on the eyes, Harkenrider is just about the perfect package deserving of all the flowers.
Welcome to the Northeast, where a stretch of upper-90-degree days can suddenly turn to rainy mush in the mid-70’s and no one knows how to dress or act or behave anymore. Add in an unhealthy dash of Mercury in retrograde motion and you have the making of a minefield of moods just waiting to be set off by the slightest foraging mouse. Mice be forewarned.
Most people peg me as a Lucy, a few wiser folks see me as Snoopy, but I’m probably closer to Woodstock. I mean, the thing wears feathers. Hello. This is a kindred spirit.
American patriotism has been killed by the MAGA movement, and it’s quite the shame. The less said about that, the better – so on with this weekly blog recap – the very first one of July in a very golden summer…
What a wildly hot stretch of weather we’ve had this week, and despite my reputation for complaint, I haven’t made any because it’s summer and time to embrace it all. (When you have a pool and AC, you don’t really have a right to complain anyway.) It’s felt good, the way early summer always does when the sun deigns to shine. Some summers don’t grant us that, so when it’s here I show appreciation. Even at the tail end of the day, the heat has persisted, sometimes actually increasing into the night. Such strange turns have resulted in momentous storms popping up out of nowhere, landing a nightly deluge upon a grateful garden, and keeping all but the most dramatic of plants from wilting (looking at you, hellacious hydrangeas).
People can wilt in such heat too, physically and emotionally, and when summer turns like a knife it doesn’t care how it cuts – and sometimes cuts made without care are the most dangerous of all. At the end of a day, when the sun goes down but the temperatures refuse to follow, there is still no relief to be found in the air. Only beneath the water can you plumb the depths to locate a spot of coolness, and even then you can’t stay there for long.
For a flattering backside appearance, Tom Ford reportedly insists on a hard tan line to carve out the necessary sculptural shading to visually lift what might need to be lifted, and if I’m going to take advice from anyone on how to look good naked, it’s probably going to come from Tom Ford. Though I’m less about that these days and more about the least amount of baggy clothing to accompany a swim without going completely naked (though there’s nothing wrong with that either). Hence this floral Speedo shot, splayed legs and all – a reminder that this site used to be all about the clickbait and the pics, especially in the summer. My mind is elsewhere of late, but it’s nice to indulge in the superficial when so much of what’s beneath that is rotten. That brings us back to the Solid Gold Summer theme, and the next song in our summer playlist. Cue the music…
What’s the sense in sharing This one and only life? Endin’ up just another lost and lonely wife You’ll count up the years And they will be filled with tears Love only breaks up to start over again You’ll get the babies, but you won’t have your man While he is busy loving every woman that he can, uh-huh
Shades of 70’s disco (and a 90’s ‘Romeo & Juliet’ redux by Baz Luhrman) this ditty gives summer funk a good name, as it celebrates love and youth and the carefree, breezy romance that life sometimes bestows upon us at any age. If your heart is golden, and if your heart is true, age falls by the wayside, and numbers never mattered to anyone but the most petty of misers. Live and let live, love and let love, and whenever in any doubt, dance it all away.
It’s high time now just one crack at life Who wants to live in, in trouble and strife? My mind must be free To learn all I can about me, uh-huh I’m gonna love me, for the rest of my days Encourage the babies every time they say Self-preservation is what’s really going on today
Closing in on these final months of my 50th year on earth, I find myself in consideration of all things temporal, such as this aptly-named daylily. Each blooms lasts only a day, but what joy can be found in a single day. As I get older and the days seem to slip by faster and faster, I feel the fleeting things to enjoy, the things that I know won’t always be in abundance – the ease of movement (though that’s already dwindling), the head of hair (though that’s gray), the relative health (though I need a bigger pill box for the statins and prils). It also makes me want to do all the things I’ve been putting off – traveling, spending more time in Boston, finally finishing my “new” project that’s been in the works since 2019. There’s an urgency to the days now, and I’m reminded of that in the face of this beautiful daylily.
Perhaps I need to get back to growing daylilies – for some reason I never quite got back into them after planting a collection from Wayside Gardens at my parents’ home several decades ago. I wonder if they’re still there – this is a tough plant that can last for decades, sometimes into a century if divided and cared for well enough. I’d put in six or seven plants to form a border between the well-kept and manicured lawn and the more wild forest behind the house. Each summer morning I’d go out and pull off the blooms that had expired in the night before and examine any new ones that had come into bloom that day.
While each bloom may only last a single day, each stem usually produced a number of buds that open over the course of a week, spacing themselves out to give a decent-enough showing. Some varieties have been bred into giving regular repeat blooms, with a second blooming season later on. The strap-like foliage remains fresh and vibrant the whole summer season, making this a lovely addition to any garden plan. I think I’ve about talked myself into finding room for one.
The world, and especially this wayward country, needs more heroes like Air Force Major Jason Watson, who earns his first Dazzler of the Day honor for standing up in uniform against the racist/rapist currently acting as President of our great nation. Of course, this administration arrested Watson for protesting in uniform, but it was the act and the message that mattered, and I wish more people in power, who had more actual sway than the rest of us, would show similar courage.
This is what our country has come to under the current Trump nightmare: a local business feels emboldened to post racist and hateful speech against Muslims in response to a family who just lost their seven-year-old son. (Yes, you read that correctly, even if it seems incomprehensible.) Welcome to the current GOP-led America, and to a bunch of hateful people in our area. Taste of Italy in Latham, NY posted the screenshot below in response to someone’s child dying.
So very Christian of them, I know. It’s not the first time this establishment has seemingly dabbled in hate speech – do a little online sleuthing and listen to this lady’s own words: “I think Trump is doing a wonderful job. I love his negotiation tactics. He goes right for their throat. Very efficient. Very scary. Very effective. I love it. I’ll kill your entire civilization if you don’t do what I say, period. (Background voice: ‘I’ll kill your lesbian mother.’)”
Now it seems they are facing some backlash because, well, awful people aren’t usually looked on favorably especially when they want business.
“I love America more than any other country in the world and, exactly for this reason, I insist on the right to criticize her perpetually.” – James Baldwin
Based on an overwhelming lack of requests, here are some Freedom Speedo and Jockstrap pics for your viewing displeasure. (And for anyone coming at me with flag or patriotism critiques, see January 6th and go molest someone else.)
Why do people – usually the worst people – decide to try to fix all their work issues on Friday at 3 PM and expect everyone else to solve such self-induced dilemmas before 4 PM?
As can be seen, and correctly surmised from my upper-body attire, my affection lies more with London, England these days than Washington, DC. (Relax – it’s only because I hate fascism and dictators and rapists – and all those who enable such monsters to flourish.)
