One of the best ground-covers if you want a touch of blue/purple majesty at this time of the year is Ajuga, commonly known as bugleweed. The weed part is apt for its aggressive tendency, something typically valued in a ground-cover. I appreciate it best up-close and contained, so I allow other gardeners to grow it, then admire it away from my limited yard, which doesn’t have the space for such rampant behavior.
A little post for a little plant with a lot of spreading power. Saturdays that show promise should be that way.
“News without the fluff” is what Brian Tyler Cohen does best, as seen on his YouTube Channel, where he offers a truth-based analysis of all the insanity that’s going on in the political world. Thanks to his refreshingly honest take and refusal to offer a nonsensical ‘both sides’ argument on issues that are morally right or wrong, he earns this first Dazzler of the Day honor.
Andy opened the pool this past week and quickly brought the temperature up to the 80’s. It turns out that I need it there, despite my best intentions. On the first day, it rose to 74 degrees, and that sounded doable. I’d been working in the garden and the sun – and it was basically he first day I’ve had such sun exposure this year. In the excitement and work of trying to wrestle an unruly clump of Fountain grass into submission, rather unsuccessfully at that, I felt dizzy and shaky and overheated, so I thought a quick dip in 74 degree water would be ideal, just like I used to do as a kid.
I made it to my waist, and then realized that my tolerance as an adult apparently begins at about 80 degrees. I got out, dried my lower half off, and waited until it got into the 80’s, at which point I jumped in and enjoyed the first swim of the season.
JoAnn has scheduled her first visit with us since COVID began for this July, and this is the start of the coming summer season. It felt good to give in to some hope, and to indulge in some planning for the future. That’s been the saddest part of this pandemic – not being able to plan for the future. We are taking tentative steps to finding that joy again, and that begins simply with a dip in the pool.
New York Attorney General Letitia James earns her first Dazzler of the Day honor because she is such a bad-ass. If anyone can take down such evil entities as the NRA and the Former Guy, it’s her. The search for the truth is always an admirable endeavor, no matter who is involved.
These buds were just opening in the Boston Public Garden when we were last there, but they hadn’t advanced to the point where I could recognize the tree. It didn’t matter – it wasn’t the name or variety that so enchanted and inspired me – it was the sense of freshness that signifies spring at its best moments. It was that essence of being new, of starting all over again, that felt magical. This year, more than most, I feel the tug of such a moment, when so many of us just want a fresh beginning. If 2020 taught me anything, it was that nothing stays the same forever, no matter how good or bad it might have been. There was something very scary and powerful about that realization, and I’ve carried it with me with a certain weary resignation, couple with a certain fortitude. The rose and the thorn – and without one the other is missing something.
In honor of this evening’s premiere of ‘The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills’ the Dazzler of the Day is Andy Cohen. Anyone who can herd a breed like the Real Housewives is nothing short of a hero in my eyes, and anyone who has carved such a consistently-stellar career in the entertainment business is practically miracle worker. Cohen has also written a few indelible books that are as entertaining as his on-screen persona – ‘Most Talkative‘ and ‘The Andy Cohen Diaries‘. During the pandemic, he successfully transferred ‘Watch What Happens Live’ to his own home and it proved just as enduring and laugh-inducing, becoming the must-see night-time appointment when others floundered and struggled to find their way. His endearing friendship with Anderson Cooper has also proven to be something genuine and dear in an industry where that is all too infrequent and rare.
From Tom Ford’s ‘Lavender Palm’ to the Beekman Boys latest whipped body cream, lavender has been a favorite scent in these parts, particularly when summer comes streaming in through the sun-filled days. This year I planted a number of new lavender plants near the pool, where the heat stays close to the concrete, and the silvery foliage soaks it all in. The bonus is the scent that arises when one brushes past the leaves and flowers.
That scent finds its way into just about everything these days, and not all of it is done well. Like my friend JoAnn, I’m very particular about the lavender products that find their way into our home. Only the true lavender scent – simple, not too sweet or cloying, with just a hint of the medicinal – is what we seek. Far too often products contain vanilla or some other addition that mars the rustic essence of true lavender. When done right, however, it is a fragrance that signifies peace and relaxation – and is usually used to bring about better sleep.
In these photos, a lavender candle burns in our attic loft in the midst of a minor make-over for the space, lending positive vibrations for a summer on the distant horizon.
In my pretend-to-be-humble opinion, Leslie Jones is the funniest person on the planet, and so earns her first Dazzler of the Day honor here. Follow her Twitter feed for a daily dose of much-needed hilarity and laughter, and then check out all her red-carpet looks because she absolutely slays it there too. (Bonus points for her unabashed and emboldening love for RuPaul’s Drag Race.)
These violets are a menace to the perfectly manicured lawn, but they form a magical part of my childhood memories, as they grew freely in the little forest behind our home. Back then they were simply woodland joys that rarely encroached upon the lawn, content to inhabit the secret recesses of that shaded area behind the pool’s pump house.
Today, they are taking over our lawn, and as such must be eradicated, which is easier said than done. I’ll let Andy do that difficult job, and snap these photos to show off their pretty side before we bid them adieu.
Actor and Twitter-thriller Kirk Acevedo earns his first Dazzler of the Day honor for his work in such series as ‘Oz’, ‘Fringe’, ‘Band of Brothers’, ’12 Monkeys’ and ‘Arrow’. You might also recognize him from ‘The Thin Red Line’, ‘Boiler Room’ or ‘Dawn of the Planet of the Apes’. In case that’s still not enough entertainment for you, check out his Twitter feed – it’s absolutely on fire.
This was the week we finally moved into a proper spring weather pattern, with the sun appearing and warming things up a bit. It was also the week we celebrated our 10th and 11th anniversaries in Boston, and then a few days later opened the pool for the season. And with an unexpected burst of energy, courtesy of all that Vitamin D, I re-painted the attic to continue my little update of that long-neglected space. It’s almost there. On with the recap…
Making up for missing our tenth anniversary last year may seem like a good moment for going all out and throwing down the party gauntlet, especially after a year of staying home, but it felt better to keep things quiet and intimate, the way our marriage has grown and evolved over the years. That made this anniversary weekend somehow more special – it was as much a return as it was a new beginning – the same way we are all navigating this new world.
Boston had evolved and grown as well – the European flavor of open-air cafes beside restaurants that would have never considered outdoor dining options before was its most apparent update – and as scary as change can sometimes be, this felt right.
Uniting the blooms of upstate NY home with our home in Boston, these lilacs bridged New York and Massachusetts, proving that home was wherever you brought your loved ones, and sometimes it was wherever you found simple beauty.
And now the purple dusk of twilight time
Steals across the meadows of my heart
High up in the sky the little stars climb
Always reminding me that we’re apart
You wander down the lane and far away
Leaving me a song that will not die
Love is now the stardust of yesterday
The music of the years gone by
Eleven years into our marriage – and almost twenty one into our relationship – the memories and the history we share emboldens us to keep going, and helps us to survive such trying time we have all had of late. Winnie-the-Pooh said it’s so much friendlier with two, and on magical weekends like this it rings absolutely true.
Sometimes I wonder, I spend
The lonely nights
Dreaming of a song
The melody
Haunts my reverie
And I am once again with you
When our love was new
And each kiss an inspiration
But that was long ago
And now my consolation
Is in the stardust of a song
For our last dinner of the trip, I wear ‘Straight to Heaven by Kilian‘ and we order a car that will bring us to one of Andy’s favorite restaurants, Boston Chops.
There we have a delectable steak dinner to cap off a weekend of good eats, good memories, and good times with my husband.
As we head home and retire for the evening, the rain arrives. It has held off until the midnight hour – for which we are completely grateful – and now forms a cozy reminder of the rain that arrived on the day we departed Boston eleven years ago. We hear it splash onto the windows and the air conditioner, forming a percussive soundtrack to lull us to sleep.
The next morning, in spite of earlier weather reports, the rain is completely gone. There are even peeks at blue sky through the clouds. I pick up some pastries from Cafe Madeleine and bring them back for our breakfast, pausing to look at the flowers along the way, like this snowdrop anemone, which nods its head in the slightest of breezes.
A last look belongs fittingly to the delicate blue blooms of the forget-me-not. Until we return to this beautiful city…
Beside the garden wall
When stars are bright
You are in my arms
The nightingale
Tells his fairytale
Of paradise, where roses grew
Though I dream in vain
In my heart it will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of love’s refrain
Our third day in Boston – the last full day we would have on this trip – blossomed in sunny fashion, and we wisely saved our walk through the Boston Public Garden for this moment. Before that, however, we slept in, and looked out sleepily at the fountain in the middle of Braddock Park. Back in 1995 when my parents purchased the condo, the fountain wasn’t even working, but a few years later the neighbors got it functional again, and it is a happy bellwether for better weather. It now trickles its soothing sound from spring until late fall, taking a winter slumber only to return when the sun is high and warm.
On this morning, we made our way to the Public Garden, to the place where we made our wedding vows eleven years ago. It was on a day quite similar to today – bright and sunny and just warm enough to not merit a jacket.
Night and day, you are the one
Only you beneath the moon, under the sun
Whether near to me or far
It’s no matter darling, where you are
I think of you night and day
Day and night, why is it so
That this longing for you follows wherever I go
In the roaring traffic’s boom
In the silence of my lonely room
I think of you
Night and day
This wedding cake shrub is a favorite – as much for its name as its perfectly timed blooming period. It was there on our wedding day too, and we posed in front of it with our gathered friends and family. Today it brought back those memories, and at such moments we were reminded of how wonderful the world and its inhabitants can be.
Perched high in the air, fruit tree blossoms dangled like cream-colored bells, ringing silently in the slightest breeze. The tulips were just slightly past their prime, but a few were hanging on to give us a show.
In a more secluded corner of the Garden, a coral-colored quince bloomed in its shady nook, near an angelic fountain that lended more flowing water to the calm at hand.
There is magic to be found at all times of the year in the Public Garden, but we are partial to spring, and this spell of May in particular.
While the city thrashes about trying to drag its ponderous history into a new world, this little refuge of beauty and simplicity, majesty and wonder, retains its enchanting essence.
At the entrance to the Garden, which was now also our exit, a few bleeding hearts hung their exquisite blooms as if bidding us adieu until the next time.
Reluctantly departing such a pretty scene, we ambled back to the condo, and on the way we watched this little bunny scurry into the front garden square of our building. There are always signs that we are right where we are supposed to be, and this rabbit was a symbol we’d see from time to time on our visits. I rarely saw it when I was in Boston alone, but when Andy’s been here it always makes an appearance.
Our second day in Boston was bright but slightly overcast. The flowers were all in bloom, and there was a breeze, on the cool side, which made for good walking conditions. Andy slept in and I went shopping for some snacks and whatever other silly triflings offered themselves up. Such a simple endeavor, but what a wonderful return to something I’ve not been able to do in such a long time!
Boston in spring bloom will always be a balm on the most troubled soul. These happy little faces peered out everywhere I went, a reminder that whatever state the world wound its way into, nature would maintain its beauty.
Meanwhile, music played in the mind as I walked throughout the city…
You’d be so easy to love
So easy to idolize
All others above
So worth the yearning for
So swell to keep every home fire burning for…
We’d be so grand at the game
So carefree together that it does seem a shame
That you can’t see
Your future with me ’cause you’d be, oh
So easy to love
Returning to the condo, I picked up Andy for our tradition of washing the rings. Shreve, Crump and Low is still blessedly in business, so we made our way to Newbury Street to have our wedding rings cleaned. We perused the gems and jewelry, but stayed downstairs instead of straying to the more tempting second floor of watches. When you’ve just replaced a furnace, a pink-diamond-studded watch is not on any list of priorities, sadly.
Neither is this cherry red Shelby, replica or not, but I asked Andy to pose in front of it anyway, on a stretch of Boylston beside the Lenox Hotel. Boston is lined with memories of past adventures, and we added this little encounter with Miss Shelby to that lovely reservoir.
Into every anniversary we usually add something new – in this case it was our first dinner at No. 9 Park – a Boston classic that we’ve somehow never managed to try until now. Peering over the edge of Boston Common, it made for a cozy little space perfect for the windy evening. Andy began with some recommended Blanton’s bourbon in this sunny sour, while I took the bartender’s suggestion for an elderflower and citrus mocktail.
I began with this beautiful red snapper crudo, served with rhubarb, watermelon radish, and kumquats while Andy enjoyed some shrimp.
We haven’t had an opportunity to break out the blazers in such a long time that it no longer felt like a burden.
No. 9 Park sent out a round of champagne, which Andy had the responsibility of finishing – a lovely complement to our anniversary weekend.
We both decided on the octopus for our entrees, and it was tender and almost creamy – a far cry from my three-hour braising attempt several summers ago. Best to leave the octopus to the experts, as I simply have to admit defeat when it comes to preparing certain dishes.
Topping the meal off was a pair of desserts – this was my mango dish; Andy chose a pineapple one. Both were grand endings to another delicious meal. Boston was welcoming us back in ways both sweet and satisfying.
