The Return of Fargesia

Hints of spring, courtesy of a shadowless groundhog, put me in the mind for a look to the future. We’re coming up on breaking the hump of winter, and this is the shortest month of the year to boot. One of the most exciting prospects of a spring to come is the return of Fargesia nitida, a clump-forming bamboo that is as functional and hardy as it is elegant and beautiful. For the past couple of years, this bamboo variety was finishing up its devastating once-a-century blooming wave, which kills off the plants in a widespread massacre. Our two specimens were part of this mass flowering extinction, much to our sadness and regret, but what luck to witness the once-in-a-lifetime flowering of the fountain bamboo. Now that the event is over, it’s once again safe to plant new bamboos, as the next flowering won’t happen for another hundred years. 

It’s good to look ahead. While I’ve been trying to live more in the moment, in the winter a light ahead certainly helps, and I do better when planning and looking forward. For the gardening trajectory this year, there will be a lot of editing and paring down, a great deal of cutting back and opening spaces up. Since we’ve moved in we’ve done a lot of filling in, and the plants have taken a liking to where they are and are encroaching on living space. It’s lush and full, but I’ve come to appreciate light and air and space and expanse, something that can only be conjured through some judicious pruning and cutting back. That also means we will be making some room for a few new additions. I expect some losses due to the continuing cycle of heaving we’ve had of late – freeze and thaw, freeze and thaw – which is not good for the gardens. Fortunately, we are looking for extra room for a few Fargesia nitida bamboo plants, as well as some new roses for Andy.

The thoughts of bamboo swaying gently in a summer breeze, and leaning into the perfume of a precious rose, are enough to see us through the difficult days.

 

Continue reading ...

Scent of a Prick

When you’ve already released a fragrance called ‘Fucking Fabulous’, the name ‘Rose Prick’ almost feels rather quaint. Of course it’s meant to be more provocative than that, as Tom Ford does so often and so well, but it’s the essence of rose that appeals to me more than the quad-controversial prick part, so let’s get into what I’ve read and heard about this mysterious cock-tease of a scent, and why I so badly desire it even as it’s yet unsniffed. 

Given its powder pink packaging and rose-tinted moniker, I initially didn’t give this one much thought or consideration, especially after the disappointment that was ‘Lost Cherry’. My indifference should have been a warning to me, like a protective thorn, that I should pay closer attention. The world seems to work that way, and once early reports came in indicating that this fragrance was not what it first seemed, I pricked my ears up and listened for the universal whispers. 

My first concern was that this was a redux of ‘Oud Fleur’ which is a rose-centered smoky oud delight, and one of my favorites, and I don’t believe in repeating or approximating Private Blends when they’re so expensive, but I was quickly schooled that this wasn’t anything like ‘Oud Fleur.’ Still, I sought out some excuse not to get into this, and we all know how it goes when you try to resist.

A few online sources provided additional firsthand information – this was not a super floral rose that ventured decidedly into stereotypically feminine territory. If anything, it was a patchouli and tonka-centered oriental take on rose, which is infinitely more appealing to me. Sillage and lasting power were reportedly in full TFPB effect, making this worthy of its price tag. Now I’m thorn, I mean torn, because I really covet this from everything I’ve heard, including the way it carries some serious pepper notes which I absolutely adore. 

I’ll be honest, I was not in the market for another Tom Ford Private Blend – I’ve got enough for life – but this one may delay that judicious decision. The heart wants what it wants as Valentine’s Day approaches…

Continue reading ...

Recapping With Super Bowl Poses

Posing like a fucking boss, this is my tribute to the Super Bowl, and I’m taking the lazy way out with a simple Monday morning recap. A lot of stuff went down this past week, most of which didn’t make the blog. Read between the lines of this recap, and strike a muscle pose. Like a meathead. Wearing spectacles. (Oh, and follow me on TikTok or whatever you’re supposed to do there – I’m on it, I’m into it, I’m TikToking for you – for all of you!)

Hello again, Earl. (That’s Mr. Grey to you.)

It’s been three months since I had any booze and, oddly enough, I don’t miss it one bit. 

Winter pining.

Andy’s ongoing Audi adventure.

It was a snowy winter morning in January, and that has made all the difference.

I took Suzie to see Matthew Bourne’s ‘Swan Lake’ this past Friday and it was just as enchanting as I remembered it. (Suzie may have fallen asleep at one point. And she left a huge mess on our table at the Russian Tea Room, but I told all the servers who stopped by who did it.)  

Dreaming of Ogunquit makes the winter bearable. 

Speaking of winter, we have entered the final full month of the beast, and though it’s a leap year it’s still a short one. 

Chicken soup for the soul and the stomach.

Baring my ass for the Dolly Parton Challenge, like you knew I always would. 

This Super Bowl mocktail is counter-programming at its best. 

The limited selection of Hunks of the Day included Taylor Swift’s beau Joe Alwyn, Charles Michael Davis and Patrick Mahomes. (More to come this week, I promise!)

 

Continue reading ...

A Rare Super Bowl Mocktail

Today is traditionally about the beer and the beer commercials, but for anyone looking to extend a Dry January, or just veer away from the liquor for a little/long while longer, here’s some counter programming to the gluttonous Super Bowl booziest currently going on across this great country. Welcome to the Blood Orange Sunrise – a glass of vermillion effervescence that actually won’t have you clamoring for alcohol once you’re hit with all of its layers of flavor. 

The recipe comes from Clare Liardet’s charming collection of mocktail creations, ‘Dry: Non-Alcoholic Cocktails, Cordial and Clever Concoctions.’ I’m planning on working my through most of the cocktails included, and we begin with the Blood Orange Sunrise since blood oranges are in season and we need something to light up the night with color and pizzazz.

This one works well for the holidays (as evidenced by these photos from late last year) but will also see you through the doldrums of winter, when we need light and color and excitement. The Blood Orange Sunrise contains just enough of each, and here’s how it shakes down:

  • 1/2 cup pomegranate juice
  • Juice of 1 1/2 blood oranges
  • Juice of 1/2 lime
  • 1/2 Tbsp honey
  • Sparkling water or seltzer
  • Twist of blood orange peel and/or pomegranate seeds for garnish
  • Ice

It’s the easiest thing to make – just combine the juices and honey with some ice in a tumbler, top with sparkling water and garnish as desired. There was a Blood Orange Sangria seltzer flavor available this holiday season, so I was using that for this one and it worked out splendidly. Don’t skip either the lime or the honey – both are integral for the magical alchemy that lends this its zip and freshness. 

May this be the beginning of more cocktail madness to come. Happy Super Bowl Sunday everybody! Let the bowling commence! 

 

Continue reading ...

The Dolly Parton Challenge

How is it that Dolly Parton has not played a more prominent role on this website in all these years? Who doesn’t absolutely adore Dolly? As part of the gay population, I believe it’s in our handbook that loving Dolly Parton is one of the mandatory non-negotiable requirements. A minimum qualification if you will. Luckily, it’s always come rather easily to me, having been raised on her movie ‘9 to 5’ and its accompanying fingernail-clicking title track. Plucky, kind and fabulous beyond all get-out, Ms. Parton has defied the limitations of country music, and even more impressively the rules of the entire entertainment industry, surviving and thriving in a successful career that has spanned decades, without ever really going out of style.

Case in point is the viral Meme seen below, where she cheekily shows off the various versions of herself that she would use for social media and immediately rendering her relevant once again. It is as much a showcase for her chameleonic nature as it is for a modern-day flourish of social media savvy. (For the record, I’ve never been on Tinder or Grinder or a 3-ring Binder, but oh if these social media sites had been around during my dating hey-day… actually, I think we all – the whole lot of us – offer unending gratitude that they weren’t. Think: hot mess minus the hot.)

PS – Follow me on TikTok under ‘alanilagan’ and be in awe. I just love the TikTok! 

 

Continue reading ...

Chicken Soup for the Stomach and the Soul

As the final dredges of the flu limped through my weary system, I mustered the energy to make a quick soup. Andy asked if I wanted the chicken defrosted that morning, but I wasn’t sure I’d be up for it so I didn’t bother. Now, I began the assembly and figured I could find some beans for protein if there wasn’t chicken.

Gray skies sputtered a bit of wet snow and rain, but nothing to substantial. There was a gloominess, however, and a bit of soup was always an antidote for this. I spiced up the base with garlic and ginger, then added onions and carrots and some miso paste instead of salt. Thinking better of the beans, I texted Andy, who was already en route to the market, to see if there were some cheap cuts of chicken already thawed and a helping of kale. We needed vitamins to continue the trajectory to better health.

I found some red kidney beans and added them anyway – I loved the color they gave. Andy arrived with the kale and a chicken roaster, which worked out perfectly. The soup base had cooked and was ready, and once the kale cooked for a bit I added the chicken and it was the ideal combination.

It takes two to make a soup go right.

Continue reading ...

The Final Full Month of Winter Begins

Mercifully, this is the shortest month of the year, and as the last full month of winter that is a blessing without disguise. It seemed like we should present something fiery for February, and these scarlet berries mirror the cardinals that occasionally visit the yard and spruce things up with their fiery plumage. Though the gardens remain in a state of slumber, the cardinals and finches have been providing bits of their colorful carriage, creating temporary gardens whenever and wherever they alight. The blue jays add to this as well, mimicking the blue of the sky, etched with their striking stripes and patterns.

Even the squirrels want to get in on the winter show, traipsing along the fence and digging in the snow for a stray acorn or errant nut. Their gray coats are better at blending into the surroundings at this sad time of the year, but their actions are just as interesting as they are in the sunnier months.

In our home, we are already getting antsy for spring, which still feels a long way off. We’ll see what the groundhog has to say tomorrow, not that it’s wise to put anything of substance in that one’s paws. Winter will take as many weeks as it takes and there’s nothing much to do about it. The best thing is to find its rare pockets of beauty and enjoy them as they come.

There will be another spring, and another summer.

The sun will shine again.

The pool will beckon.

The gardens will bloom.

Continue reading ...

Dreaming of Toe-Dipping

There’s something special that happens when you stick your toes into the sand beside the ocean. You can feel the sea pull back, and pull you deeper into the sand. It’s dizzying, and it instantly grounds you, connecting you to the natural world in a way I’ve not found anywhere else, not even in my all-too-rare brushes with the sublime. It’s been well over a year since I’ve had my toes in the sand by the sea, and I just realized it’s something I’ve been missing. 

As a substitute for that, for now, since it will have to do, I’m putting this post up to remind myself of the Beautiful Place By the Sea – Ogunquit – because it’s been too long since we were there. It’s always been a magical place for us, where the difficulties of day-to-day life melt away once we cross the bridge, where we can suspend our usual cares and worries and focus on what really matters – the way the moon pulls on the tides, the way the wind whips along the Marginal Way, the way a mid-afternoon slumber enervates the ennui of the daily lull. 

It’s always been more than a vacation, and more than an escape from living – it’s the way life should be. Let’s revisit some happy memories in the following links:

A summer day at Ogunquit Beach.

Holding the ocean in our hands, and our hearts.

Blooms upon blooms

Falling in Ogunquit.

A secret garden.

By the Way.

Walking in the woods.

A surprise for Andy.

More fall beauty in Maine.

Andy & Mom.

On the rocks.

Even in the rain, Ogunquit is beautiful

One always eats well in Ogunquit.

A lighthouse in Maine.

Raindrops keep falling on my head.

Finding the sun.

Return to the secret garden.

Sun again

Even the farewells are better in Ogunquit. 

Back at the beach.

The Marginal Way at dusk.

The family in Ogunquit.

Some seaside scenes.

A mountain in Maine.

Spring entry.

Writing it into being.

When gray is the way.

Ogunquit quietude.

More lilacs.

All of Ogunquit’s entertainments

Ogunquit whimsy.

Rich in beauty.

The fall goodbye.

And again.

Rosa rugosa.

Harvest moon over Maine.

Continue reading ...

Swan Songs, Take Two

This evening I’m surprising Suzie with a belated gift of Matthew Bourne’s ‘Swan Lake’ at the New City Center. With its gender-swapping gay-love storyline, this has been my favorite version of the Tchaikovsky ballet, though purists may continue to cry fowl about it. Andy and I saw it a number of years ago, on a chilly night in November. We dined at the Russian Tea Room because it felt like the thematic thing to do, and I’m pretty sure I ordered their decadent classic chicken kiev, with the exploding melted butter. Tonight Suzie and I are returning to the scene of that beautiful dinner before we take in the ballet.

This version of ‘Swan Lake’ is rife with iconic imagery and psychological undertones, so who knows how we’ll both take it at this point. We both seem prone to crying these days. I’m looking forward to a little emotional exorcism if it can be done through a work of art.

Continue reading ...

Choosing Heart & Home

It must have been January of 2001. I was staying with Andy at his house in Guilderland and we were still a new couple. Yes, we’d already thrown a holiday party together but who hasn’t? It was early morning when I awoke to a thick cover of snow on the ground and more falling from a dull gray sky. Partly dismayed and partly relieved, I was due to be in Boston for a job interview with GLAAD, and now the drive looked difficult if not impossible.
A couple of months prior to that I interviewed with them for an Office Assistant position, and I had come in second. The other person just had more experience, they said, though they genuinely liked me, told me as much, and said if anything else opened up they would be in touch. I wasn’t expecting them to call and actually mean it, and now I had an interview for a second position in a few hours.

Andy and I had had a short but difficult talk over what a job in Boston would mean, and though I didn’t want it to be so he was right that it would probably mean the end of us. I still wanted to try it. I thought my heart was in Boston and I wasn’t sure if it was with him. I can see now that I was scared.

Boston was the safer prospect. I knew Boston. I knew the loneliness that I could encounter. I didn’t know what a life with Andy would be like. It felt right thus far, but who could foresee the future? I looked to the universe for signs.

Outside, the snow fell harder. I went upstairs and looked down at Andy’s living room. I remembered the first night we kissed on his sofa. I remembered a day when I dropped by unexpectedly and found him meditating there with a crystal. I remembered a night on the floor of his bedroom when I looked into his eyes and saw the soul of someone I could love.

The light of day was seeping into the sky, fighting the snow in the air, and bringing the room into greater focus. It brought my heart into focus too, and though I knew it was risky to follow one’s heart, I also knew there was no way I could give up on what Andy and I had. I called the GLAAD office and told them there was no way I would make it to the interview that day, and in fact rescheduling wouldn’t work either, thanking them for the opportunity but I would have to pass. Hanging up, I immediately felt happiness and contentment. I bounded back into the bedroom and joined him under the covers. Later, we would get up and make a batch of my Mom’s beef stew – the best way to spend a snowy day.

There would be days when I thought back at that decision, and though I would wonder about it, I would never regret it, because we crafted something beautiful and memorable and sacred together, something which stands as a testament to our love no matter what else happens. We did it together, defying the winter snow, defying our joint fears and doubts, defying the loneliness that might otherwise result.

If given the chance again, I would do the same thing.

It was Andy. There was never a question.

He was my home.

Continue reading ...

Andy’s Ongoing Audi Odyssey

Nobody loves automobiles more than Andy. His love for cars is akin to my love for Madonna. Each borders on obsession, but each has its limits and is bound by what is more or less reasonable. His latest Audi is his favorite, but it’s come with its own set of issues – some easily resolved, some not so easily resolved. We are currently awaiting word on whether one of the bigger changes (of a transmission no less) will work out. 

I’m hoping it does, because a happy Andy makes for a happy household, and there’s nothing I enjoy more than seeing him content with his car – it is one of his favorite passions and I love seeing him excited about something. He tells me this dealership has been very good to him, it’s just been a series of strange setbacks the past few months, which is an apt metaphor for life in an upstate New York winter. Stalls and setbacks are par for the course – our success depends upon how we react and deal with them. Andy is doing his best, as frustrating as it can be.

No matter what happens next, at least we know we’ll always have the Woody. 

Continue reading ...

Pining…

For the spring

for the summer

Maybe even for the fall.

But fear not, for we are on the right path.

One more day of January, then the shortest month of the year will begin, the last full month of winter. 

The light, then, is up ahead.

Bundle up, the cold is not over, but hope…

Hope is still warm.

No winter can ever take that away. 

Continue reading ...

No Booze for 3 Months… and Counting

A couple of days ago a quiet little marker passed as I realized I hadn’t had a drop of liquor in three months. This is far from the longest I’ve gone without alcohol, and at first I didn’t feel the need to make note of it at all, until I saw someone post on Twitter that they had fallen off their sobriety path.

I haven’t made any serious sobriety promise, as that is usually the kiss of death for any serious lifestyle change. I’ve chosen to not drink in an effort to live in a more healthy manner and take care of this body for as long as I may have it. Not drinking was one of the first steps in doing better for myself, and it had almost nothing to do with addiction or sobriety as it did for bettering myself. Because of that, it seemed rather a minor accomplishment. Yet as soon as I saw someone stumble in their own quest for sobriety, I felt a bit of an impulse to share this little triumph of not drinking with them. Surely if someone who has more than enjoyed his share of cocktails over the years can change, then perhaps there’s some inspiration to be found here.

I wish I could offer some insight or wisdom or simple advice on how I did it, but I’m at a loss, and that may make me the exception for those who have had trouble stopping. Mostly, I was wanting to stop for a while, it just took a bit of tough love from my husband and family and friends to help me see that now was the time. But the main impetus was my own realization that I simply didn’t feel as good when I drank as opposed to when I didn’t. And why would I do something that makes me feel bad?

Anyway, I realize it’s a lot harder for some people not to drink, so this little milestone is being marked in honor of them. I know it can be tough. I know it can feel impossible. But it can be done. And if you have to start over and over and over until you can do it, that’s ok. The stumbles and falls only matter if you can’t get back up again. If you make it to another day, you make it to another choice. I’m grateful for every chance I have at making a choice. It’s nice to be in charge.

As for the celebration of cocktails that this website once espoused, I’m still enamored by a  pretty drink, only now these are alcohol-free. For those who are looking for some good mocktails to extend a dry January, stay tuned for some recipes. Just because I’ve forsaken the booze doesn’t mean I’m going to forsake the beauty.

Continue reading ...

Hello Again, Earl

Earl Grey tea ebbs and flows in my existence. There are periods when I’m all for it – craving and demanding its floral notes in tea and cookies and scones – and then there are long stretches when I want nothing to do with it. Lately, I’ve come around to it again, maybe because a nice floral tea seems designed for winter mornings like this one. Unexceptional Tuesdays when a sweeter, quieter start of Bergamot is needed to cast its exquisite spell and see us through the rest of the week, or at least the remainder of the day. Such moments of peace are by their nature smaller and more elusive, and so I value them more. Let’s sip on that for a bit and not rush ahead just yet.

Inhabit the moment.

Breathe in the beginning of the day.

Exhale the worrisome thoughts.

Exist.

Be.

We are enough. 

Continue reading ...

A Recap Doused in Citrus

It was a week filled with sickness and a slow but steady recuperation. Felled by the flu, I spent half the week alternating between chills and sweats, and the rest of it racked with overall body aches. That made for hours of bed-bound contemplation and feverish deliberations, none of which came to much. It’s not good to be inside your head so much, or inside the house so much either. I had no choice in either, and so I did my best to get better – drowning myself in hot green tea with lemon and honey, regular doses of Tylenol in the morning and NyQuil at night, gallons of water, and freshly squeezed citrus in whatever else I was drinking. On with this sickly recap so we can leave it all behind…

Speaking of sick things.

Embracing the imperfect.

At least trying.

Bright flaming red!

Are roses enough to see us through the winter?

The Jonas Brothers stepped out in their underwear

The trajectory and lifespan of this blog was given serious consideration, and we are entering the winter of its existence. Relax or be dismayed, it’s not imminent. 

Madonna as mere mortal

This is the closest we can figure for the first movie night with Skip

Kira and I weather a winter storm in Boston, starting with this shakshuka evening, a Saturday of swimming lessons and shopping, and a contemplative Sunday ending

Hunks of the Day included Justin Chambers, Alex Ranghieri, Jimmy Garoppolo, and Calum Scott.

Continue reading ...