Category Archives: General

At approximately 4:21 AM, we officially entered the realm of winter. Marking the shortest day of light and longest night of the year, from here on out our daylight time will elongate, gradually unfurling second by second, minute by minute, until we max out at the summer solstice. This is it – the bottom of the valley – and it feels very still, very dark, very quiet. Here is where we move in hushed tones and gentle whispers. Here is where we look up from the lowest levels of light, seeking out any pinprick or spark of illumination in the sky. Here, then, is winter. 

Several years ago I made my peace with the season of slumber, embracing its elements and using its storms as opportunities to slow down and be mindful. That is once again the intent this year. Patience comes into prominence and importance here. I find it best to focus on the days as they come rather than be impatiently annoyed and antsy at the prospect of spring’s far-off arrival. Life should not be spent in waiting but in little actions that can be done in the moment. 

While last summer began in frilly bombast (hello Coquette!) this winter begins in quiet and calm. Simply and grandly. Still waters, especially when covered in winter ice, churn with seismic shifts, making them more dangerous. Their danger is often in the unstoppable force of their immensity once set in motion. It renders the little things we may try to halt their movement relatively ineffective. 

Within every shell of the promise of peace is a jagged bit of potential for the opposite. Without that kernel of knowledge, that possibility of contrast, peace might be entirely meaningless. And maybe it is. At this point, I just don’t know. 

These roses glow differently at night, when the cold light of the almost-winter day gives way to the warm hues of candles and human-crafted light. There is only a slight difference from the pictures seen here, probably only discernible to the Virgos among us, of which I am begrudgingly one. Either way, and in whatever light they are shone, these roses are here for the final day of our Fade-To-Black fall, and stand gaily defiant upon the doorstep of winter. 

There was much I wanted – and needed – to get out on this blog, years of family secrets and a suddenly-clearer understanding of patterns of family behavior – and I barely scratched the surface. That only means it will come out in the winter, which always makes for good clickbait during those colder months. Stay tuned, and stay warm… 

“The story is told in so many ways, depending on who is doing the telling, and what needs to be heard at the time.” – Gregory Maguire

We can’t all be Elphaba or Glinda, as if life could ever be a strictly binary choice. 

Some of us have to be Fiyero, if only because dust is what we come to…

Having seen ‘Wicked’ three times now, I am still haunted by this exchange, and it comes from Elphaba talking to Fiyero when they are in the enchanted forest:

Elphaba: No matter how shallow and self-absorbed you pretend to be…

Fiyero: Excuse me, there is no pretense here. I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow…

Elphaba: Oh please. No you’re not. Otherwise you wouldn’t be so unhappy.

She renders him speechless then, and it’s a silence I know too well.

One blog post.

Just the one.

I usually have three scheduled:

• a featured first post that goes up shortly after 6 AM
• a lighter mid-day post that’s usually a throw-away #TinyThreads or something similarly slim
• a night-time crap-shoot around the 8 PM hour that could be anything

Yesterday I only had one in me.

It wasn’t for any particular reason. I didn’t get around to pre-populating anything, and didn’t feel like doing it after work. So you got one – and a rather piss-poor one at that. Tuesdays often suck and yesterday was no exception – if anything, it was a Tuesdayer Tuesday than usual, making for a pretty shitty day that ended in rain and a sky that couldn’t decide whether to turn off the light at 3 or 4 o’clock.

Suzie and I mutually cancelled our planned holiday excursion, which means it won’t happen before Christmas; she didn’t feel well, and I didn’t feel like doing it at all. And I don’t think either of us is very bothered by it. That’s somewhat new for me. Slightly worrisome, slightly a relief, mostly a shrug. 

The same way I feel about this blog. And this month. And this year. 

Just the one.

Someone once said that fish were the most mysterious animals on the planet. It makes sense for that to be an assumption, as silence is so often cloaked in mystery, and fish would be among the most silent animals we know. I like the idea of fish being mysterious, and carrying secrets to their watery graves before we even know what to ask. Humans have analyzed and examined so many things to death, there is less and less that we no longer know – and not knowing is part of the joy of life. Some mysteries can never be solved, which is as thrilling as it may be infuriating for some. Personally, I like leaning into the mystery, being left with things slightly unknown, and certainty only guessed at. It stands as one of the many exceptions to my organized, Virgo nature. 

The koi seen here are housed at Koto Restaurant. Andy and I pause to inspect them whenever we dine there, and I could feasibly spend hours just watching them slowly swim back and forth in their pond, not once understanding or fully knowing why they do what they do. For the longest time, I’ve wanted a koi pond of our own; Andy’s fully on board for it as well, we just need to find the space, and time, and human-labor to make it happen. They need a lot of space, and most people don’t dig their ponds deep enough; that would be fatal in our winters. 

Maybe this is the winter I plan and plot and incubate the idea of how it might actually occur – the same way I used to make plans for the garden when it was asleep during these months. Knowledge and planning are key components to trying something new. 

Just a few days until the official start of winter, a light coating of snow sticks to the ground – just the right amount for a white Christmas if we can keep it this way and not go overboard. A little goes a long way, even if we are at the very start of things. This outside scene will stay largely similar until spring comes again, and so I am taking my meditative moments to consider it each day, finding one point of interest or note at varying times. Winter provides ample opportunity for meditation if you allow yourself the time and focus. 

I’ve reached the point in life where I embrace the winter, welcoming its insistent calls for pause or quiet when it heaps snow on our paths or rushes us indoors with an icy wind. Listening to those signs is a part of mindfulness, and that practice is especially important as we transition from the holidays to the doldrums of winter. With an aim and an eye toward keeping things steady, I’m taking in the moments as they come. 

As if the season couldn’t get any more indulgent, this cupcake ornament reminds us there is no such thing as too much. Well, at this time of the year. Only I can get away with being too much year-round. More on that unhappy revelatory realization later, when I’m in the mood for almost-naked navel-gazing again. And I don’t so much get away with it as simply command that it happens. 

The holidays bring out the sweetness, the stickiness, the mess, and the mayhem. 

As a full moon subsides, and this latest bout of Mercury in retrograde moves to the past, we enter the high holiday season. I just spent a long weekend in Boston for our annual holiday stroll (early sneak-peek of that drama has already been posted here) and if I get ambitious I’ll try to have that rundown up here in a few days. In the meantime, enjoy this weekly blog recap…

The first awards of the FAFO season!

My first glimpse of a day.

Bringing back the beefcake.

Words to live by.

Changing the channel for Christmas, and beyond.

Basic snacks 101.

Absence makes the heart grow…

A day of comfort in every way.

Revisited by a Christmas critter.

Lights, camera, ornaments!

Endless omelette by Andy.

Getting our stroll on.

An almost-winter moon.

A cozy Christmas scene.

Waltzing through Christmas.

This wreath though.

A questionable incident at the Newbury Boston.

“They are two people who seemingly have it all ~ admired and respected, feared and adored ~ yet I don’t think two lonelier people exist…” 

We have reached the point in this holiday season, as we have reached for so many years past, when our protagonist pauses to listen to a melancholy Christmas waltz, indulging in one brief moment of existential crisis before going back to the grind and barreling through it. This year is slightly different, as I haven’t quite decided whether I’m going to slip out of crisis mode or let it all come to a head. If that scares you, please trust that it terrifies the fuck out of me, so we’re not quite alone. 

Cue the music…

Maybe resurrecting the ‘shades of gray’ project from twenty years ago has stirred up those old ghosts – friendly ghosts – and all ghosts remind of days long gone. I suppose that’s sort of the point of a ghost. They haunt us until we face what we have ghosted. Sometimes they feel especially persistent around the holidays, and the Christmas tree, glowing and mysterious at night, has always been a portal to the past. 

In so many ways, the magic of a Christmas tree has long disappeared from my life, which is sad and strange, because as a child I seemed to adore and appreciate every aspect of its existence more than most. I could lie on the carpeted floor beside it for hours at night, examining the ornaments and branches, studying how the lights were trapped by certain glass balls, and shattered into a thousand sparkles by others. Its scent was intoxicating too – like we had opened the windows to the outdoors at such an inhospitable time of the year and somehow remained warm and comfortable. Sometimes I’d slide beneath the lower boughs, looking up from the base of the trunk, breathing in that lovely pine and feeling part of this world in a way that thrilled and confirmed my existence. There were moments when I froze there, hidden by the tree and whatever early presents had made their way beside me, while my parents or brother would hurry by, not noticing either of us – the tree or me – and I was left in smug reassurance tinged with wonder and worry. 

These days I leave the tree entirely to Andy, who still feels the magic I once felt, and does his best to share it with me. Most years I’ll finish with the last few ornaments to be hung, but this year I simply didn’t feel like it. Mom gave up on her tree as well, allowing Emi and her boyfriend to decorate it and set it up.

Maybe Christmas belongs to our childhoods.

Maybe I already gave it up years ago.

Our next full moon is almost due, along with the end of Mercury in retrograde motion – both set to occur on December 15. Until that time, prepare to be maddened by the insanity of all the astrological unease at work, and do your best to harness the energy such heavenly-body motion affords. That it should come right in the midst of the holiday season is traditionally one of life’s little fuck-overs, but at least this one is set to finish before the Christmas finale. Buckle up, buttercups. 

Andy has always handled the erection… of our Christmas tree.

That includes selecting it, putting it up, trimming it, and keeping it watered through Little Christmas (and often beyond). It brings him more joy than it would me, which is strange since that used to be one of my favorite things. Life changes us, so much so that I now view the whole Christmas tree process as a bit of drudgery, and if it weren’t for Andy I doubt I’d even bother. 

That said, I’ll still succumb to the magic of being in a room with only the glow of the tree in front of me, and embrace the magnificent scent of balsam first thing in the morning, the way I used to do as a kid. For that, I’m grateful that Andy still makes the effort, and if I have any Christmas spirit this year it’s largely due to him. 

Right now, as of the very moment of this writing, he has finished with the lights and the angel, and is about to embark on the ornaments. There is a simplicity to its look now that I admire, but I also anticipate the arrival of the decorations, and with them the memories we have made over the past twenty-four years. 

There are times when only a Ritz cracker and some peanut butter will do. 

And then years will go by without me eating them. 

Life is beautiful in all its whims. 

(Add ginger ale for extra nostalgia.)

Turning off the news has been one of the wiser decisions of our household, and now that all the Christmas programming is in full-effect, it’s been even more of a joy. Here are a few of my favorites – and I’ll always let one of these play out when they happen to come across the screen. Unplugging the news has been something many of my friends have done long ago – we are recent happy converts, and it’s opened up our days and nights in wonderful ways. When that unfortunate regime-change kicks in come January, our old news-watching habits will be a dim, depressing and ever-distant memory. I won’t be at all sad to see it go. 

We’ll ring in the new year with TCM, and keep the old-fashioned cinema rolling into 2025. 

“If we can create a breathtaking effect, it’ll be simple to monopolize all the worthwhile men.”  ~ Meet Me In St. Louis

See also, “These things must be done delicately.” ~ The Wizard of Oz