Category Archives: General

‘Tis the day for the proverbial ‘In like a lion, out like a lamb‘ quote, as March arrives and ushers in the week where Lent begins. It’s all entirely too religious for me, and as I’m scheduled to see ‘Conclave’ with Andy and Mom, I’ve had about all I can take of religious destruction for the moment. Let us pause instead, to welcome in the month where spring begins again, at least according to the calendar – and I’ll take whatever form it comes in after this trying winter. 

A little hope never hurt anyone. 

Farewell fickle February! You will not be missed!

Be gone, wretched month of winter madness! 

Hit the road, brutish beast, and don’t you come back no more, no more, no more, no more!

All right, it seems I’m not a fan of February, and I don’t know any sane person who is, so we bid the vicious month adieu with this look-back, and a few out-takes from the Divine Diva Tour, giving another layer of meaning to the term ‘look-back’. We do love a double-entendre in these precious parts. 

It sets us up nicely for tomorrow’s resuming of The Divine Diva Tour: A Fairy’s Tale. We are deep into fairy territory now, so come back and fly with us… 

The month began with David Beckham baring some butt cheek. Bodacious!

The media began the find out portion of its own FAFO journey. Brilliant!

The prime and prep for the posting of the Divine Diva Tour sounded with this playlist. Beautiful!

The Divine Diva Tour: A Fairy’s Tale took flight. Bragadocious!

The body of my youth is missed now more than ever. Brazen!

The Valentine Collection. Bewitching!

The very naked Patrick Schwarzenegger. Bootylicious!

The very porn-free nature of this website. Brash!

The fragrance to embody the desert-like depths of winter. Boss!

As Norma Desmond once proclaimed, “Today’s the day!” She wasn’t ever talking about not spending any money for a day, but times have changed and we are in a dire stretch. It seems the only way we as a people can speak to those in power is through their income, so this is the day we send a message to the corporations running things, and the oligarchs that have infiltrated our government, by simply not spending anything other than on local businesses. It’s actually not as difficult as it initially sounds, especially if you’ve made any plans prior to this as I’ve already suggested. 

Personally, I’m grateful for the spending break – at least, my dwindling bank account is thankful. Inflation, eggs, and gas have all gone way up since Trump took office, as so many of us predicted, and we are all paying the price. 

But not today, Satan! And not for a while – this is my impetus to start saving and stop spending on a more daily basis. There is joy enough to be found without having to pay for it. 

Tomorrow, February 28, marks the planned Economic Blackout originally mentioned in this post, wherein we – the people and the consumers – show what is left of our power. The idea is to not buy anything for 24 hours (or if you absolutely must to do so only from local businesses) in an effort to show the corporations in charge that we still have a voice, and the power of the purchase, to rebel against corporate greed and the rolling back of Diversity, Equity and Inclusion efforts (DEI) such as the ones Target recently eliminated (and are currently paying the price for). 

It’s simple enough: plan today so you don’t have to buy anything tomorrow – whether online, at the gas pump, or some fast food joint – and let the big corporations feel what it’s like when we act as a unified community. As I’ve said before, I don’t know what, if any, real impact this will have, but I myself am guilty of over-consuming and spending, and having a day of not letting anything leave my wallet or bank account is helpful on more than one level. My Amazon orders alone are embarrassingly unnecessary, and it no longer feels good to spend at places like Target or Amazon when their CEOs are clearly supporting Trump’s tax breaks for them while slashing vital programs like Medicaid. Look it all up, as this is what the American people voted for, whether they knew or cared at the time. Too late now.

In the meantime, I’m selfishly taking tomorrow off from all spending, and I’m going to see how long I can go. The truth is that one day of not buying won’t make much of a dent, it’s up to us to revise and modify our daily spending practices. Focus on what is locally available, and make use of what you already have on hand. I’d rather keep it in my own pocket, or spread it around locally, than send it off to the billionaires who already have enough. Here’s a list of upcoming dates and boycotts that may send a message to the people in power. 

The trajectory of a bouquet of flowers is brief and fleeting, and always more precious because of its short timeframe. We often value things that don’t last more than those that stick around, and while it’s foolish to give something with a shorter shelf life more worth, human nature is flawed and rife with such folly. 

I’ve pushed against that, finding beauty and interest in the bouquet that is past its prime, or falling apart entirely. I like seeing the way some flowers dry in place, or lose their petals, or wilt and decay into gorgeously grotesque form. 

We capture the table that looks pristine, striving for the freshest moment, hoping to catch the crest of a flower’s bloom, the first burn of a candle’s undarkened wick. 

What of the beauty of the reality of it all, when it starts to fall apart and become victim to time and air and age? What of the fallen pile of petals, arranged in new radial form, or haphazard abstract wonder? What of the aftermath? There is beauty to be found here too. 

Candles and flowers saw us through the last week of winter, while the world remained frigid and inhospitable the moment you set foot outside of a heated home. Hunker-down season continues, while whispers of spring carry on the night wind. Let’s push past this final week of February and let the lion leap us into March, but first the weekly recap…

Snow moon enchantment. 

A single candle fells winter.

Madonna wants to tuck us in again. (That’s ‘tuck’, with a ‘T’.)

In the midst of winter, a desert dawn.

A dream is a wish my heart makes.

A coat of ice.

Technological deficiencies. 

A candlelight dinner.

Start planning, start saving.

The question of sleepwalking.

February flowers, only for those who appreciate such things..

A lot of living to do.

When a dazzler takes a fall.

Life’s a banquet.

Winter manscaping.

Sundaylight.

Dazzlers of the Day included Theresa Nellis, Aaron Pierre, Darren Hayes, and Janet Mills.

Spreading the glow of candlelight in these final weeks of winter has proven crucial in buoying sagging spirits and inspiring thoughts of spring and summer, even if the weather has us wondering if they will ever come again. 

Our icicles haven’t been this long in years, and I can’t recall such a sustained string of freezing weather.  At least a thick blanket of snow is acting as insulation for the garden that slumbers beneath. 

Themes for spring and summer have been whispering to me of late, each finding confirmation and encouragement in the wispy currents of the universe. All will be revealed in good time. For now, the needed and necessary toil of the final weeks of winter. We trudge onward, we trudge through, we trudge in the service of something new. 

‘There is nothing new under the sun.’

There’s a special pit in hell for those of us who laugh at the folly and falls of others (not far from the pit for those who gloat they don’t have to work when others do), but I’m going there anyway so I might as well live, laugh and love while I’m here. This is our dear friend Skip, who once dazzled these parts in posts like this and this and this. He was good (read: foolish) enough to send us this clip, and I’ve never been so grateful for security cam footage in my life. Let’s slow it down for anyone who wants to peruse the moment. 

(It’s the little leg-kick at the end for me.)

First of all, my 50th birthday is coming up this summer, so this is foremost a reminder to plan accordingly. Fifty don’t come cheap. 

Second, and perhaps more importantly (I said perhaps) next Friday marks a planned economic blackout to show the oligarchy so disturbingly in charge right now that we the people still have some say and some semblance of power (at least until it’s finally shredded in whatever monstrous Executive Order or Congressional action gets unleashed next – will Medicaid or Medicare be the first to go? FAFO, MAGA morons!)

On February 28, I encourage you to join me in not spending or ordering anything from any entity other than locally-owned-and-operated businesses for one day, which will double as a helpful lesson in saving, while sending a message, if enough of us join, that we are entirely fed up. It may take some planning and preparation, particularly if you’re like my husband and me, whose meal plans are usually created and purchased the day of – but it will be good to go without spending at Amazon or Target for a day, and perhaps longer. 

Do I have any idealized belief that this will result in anything concrete? Not at this point – one would be a fool to think that such things matter anymore, but it’s something we can all actively do. And maybe we will feel a little better about not having contributed to the richest people in power for one day. 

Almost every casual conversation I’ve had this week – from co-workers in the elevator to the cashier at Trader Joe’s – has referenced the wear and tear of this particular winter. I think we are all feeling weary of it, and I don’t recall a stretch of such sustained frigid and icy weather in recent years without a bit of a break. The winter doldrums are here, and relief is a long way off. 

For my part, I’ve largely avoided dwelling on something over which we have no control, such as the weather, and the winter. Instead, I look to the sweet spots of beauty, even in the awfulness of a weekend-long ice storm. 

There is magic here, a wonderland that can only be conjured in the winter. For that we should be grateful. 

This wasn’t something I wanted to happen. While I love many of the Byredo fragrances, and have a few of my own, I find the majority are too light and don’t last long enough to justify their price points. (Exceptions of note: their glorious Night Veils collection.) When I was last in Boston, Chris and I were ambling about Newbury Street on a frigid day before our holiday gathering. The wind was whipping wildly, the temperatures were brutally low, and we went storefront by storefront to keep warm. One of these was what looked like a small Byredo pop-up, perhaps a holder for something more grand, or maybe just a holiday gift for passers-by like us. 

I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t need or really want another cologne at that moment – my signature holiday fragrance had already been chosen, and I was entirely enamored of it. But there was newest Byredo release – ‘Desert Dawn’ – and on such a cold day the idea of a warm desert was too tantalizing to  ignore. Spraying a bit on my wrist and coat sleeve, I brought it to my nose, hoping to hate it. No such luck – it was exquisite. The dryness of cedar and hints of sandalwood lent it a warmth that immediately spoke to me as the winter was then just beginning, while a small accent of cardamom gave it additional heat. A crisp note of vetiver gave it some effervescent and sparkle. Despite Byredo’s deserved reputation of not being the most lasting of fragrances, this one stayed with me even after our morning stroll ended, thus eliminating my last possible objection to such a gorgeous scent. 

By that time, my Christmas wish list had long been finalized, but I sent Andy a missive that if he was looking for a Valentine’s Day gift this would be most welcome, and as he usually does, he heard the plea and delivered like the sweet and generous soul he is. While I was planning on saving it for a trip to California or a warmer time close to summer, this actually works as an antidote to winter, so I’ve indulged and decided to make it happen now. With icy weekends bound indoors with Andy, I can’t think of a better memory to encapsulate with a fragrance. 

“There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.” ~ Edith Wharton

I read somewhere that there were only thirty more days until spring. Though I trust nothing I read online anymore, I didn’t bother to do the math because it doesn’t much matter. Spring will arrive when she arrives, whether by date or by weather, and there’s not much more we can do about it. 

Due to the difficult weather we have had, I’ve spent the entirety of the long weekend inside our home, watching and listening to the raging winds and the clattering of branches and ice against the roof and windows. When I saw ‘Babette’s Feast’ listed on the TCM schedule, I asked Suzie if I should watch it, as it was one of her favorites from childhood. She said yes, so I lit a candle and hoped for the best.

I wasn’t expecting the subtitles, or something entitled ‘Babette’s Feast’ to be anything other than porn, but in both instances I was pleasantly surprised, and our next goal for winter will be Suzie hosting a dinner inspired by this quaint movie. We shall call it ‘Suzette’s Feast’ and instead of quail we’ll have Cornish game hens. Oh, who am I kidding – we’ll have everyone over and throw some chicken tenders on a paper plate. 

The almost-full Snow Moon cast its lovely light over an aptly-snow-covered earth, calling to me to step out into the cold air and brave the discomfort for this brilliance. In only a few minutes, I was chilled and shuddering, but the moon often does that, forcing us into situations and circumstances and bad ideas we never would have entertained at any other time. Its seduction is dangerous, and one follows its madness with an acknowledged risk of ruin. On this night, it was nothing nearly as dramatic as all that, merely the pesky trials of a brisk chill to capture a few peeks of the moon shyly drifting among the winter clouds and trees. 

Winter moons hold their own magic, and though their light is merely a reflection, it feels no less illuminating for that. There’s something more poignant about it – as though it’s giving up everything for the rest of us, even the stuff it doesn’t even have to give. Of course there’s another way of looking at it: who gives away something they have only borrowed? 

The Super Bowl happened more than a week go, but this is my Super Bowl – a bowl of Wedgwood from my Mom’s collection. It provides solace in any dark time, with memories of my childhood home glowing in my heart with all the happenings of our formal living room – birthdays, Christmas mornings, graduations, and visits from family and friends. Escaping into those happier times is a necessary component of current days, and looking back is sometimes a comfort. Along those lines, here’s our weekly recap…

More than cocks and flowers… slightly. 

An unexpected stiffy first thing in the morning. 

A crotchety old man am I.

A Divine Diva’s schedule is set in sparkles. 

Visitor for the full Snow Moon.

Abracadabra: return of the Lady. 

The architecture of ice. 

A Valentine’s Day blog post!

Snow still lives. 

A purple-hued interlude.

Style & panache!

I just wanna dance!

A crisp style. 

Let me entertain you. 

Magnificent muted wonder. 

Dazzlers of the Day included Jalen Hurts, Saquon Barkley, Pete Davidson and Patrick Schwarzenegger. 

Following up the recent string of ‘Divine Diva Tour’ posts, which evoke the colorful lifestyle I was attempting to live twenty years ago, this muted post is a more accurate rendering of the present moment, and happily for me it’s richer and more colorful in its own way. If we’re lucky, that’s the way life works – the giddy and extreme highs and lows of our youth should become tempered with reality, and finding the joy in more subtle and nuanced ways is the best way to remain entertained and inspired. A change in perspective is the easiest way to roll with the punches of life – expecting there to be more and more exciting and stimulating things every day until we die is a certain path to disappointment, if not outright devastation. I refuse to go down that path – it’s a path too often riddled with unhealthy coping mechanisms and dangerous ruses. 

Instead, I center myself, breathing slowly and deliberately in and out, and when you think of the luxury that taking a breath in relative comfort is, you appreciate it more, and it becomes imbued with something fascinating you never quite realized before. 

Take these photos for example – outwardly they may seem to pale in comparison to the explosive fire of something like our Divine Diva journey, but when you pause and fully take them in, they reveal bits of magic only discernible to the refined eye. The sparkle of the crystalline snow, the intricate patterns of the tree branch shadows, the way the background could be snow or sky – it invites more questions, more examination, more rumination, more thought – and maybe that’s lost on those of us who have become immune to such simple joys. How unfortunate for anyone that can’t access this beauty.