Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

A day spent poolside is usually a good day, and as today’s temperatures look to soar again, here’s hoping for another good day. We had a marvelous weekend spent swimming and ducking in and out of air conditioning – the very best sort of summer weekend to have, when reading and meditating formed the bulk of work and chores to be done. On with the weekly recap, as we pause for a deep breath before doing it all over again. August continues unabated…

Once upon a time in your wildest dreams… summer burns music into the memory. 

Preparing the summer way is surely one of life’s greatest pleasures. 

The aforementioned pause of August.

An anniversary dinner in Albany, proving that the heart’s desire may indeed be found no further than one’s own backyard. 

The hunt for baby formula is the latest, and possibly greatest, craze in which I’ve taken part. 

My dear friend Kira made an all-too-rare trip to Albany to visit us, and it was a grand time. 

The fabulous Queenie in all her bejeweled finery. 

Sharing cocktails has been replaced by sharing a meditation with a friend, and life feels more full because of it. 

A lone cucumber rises in the face of attacks and odds. One must admire the perseverance.

A quietly unremarkable Sunday night blog post, as one does in these parts. 

Dazzlers of the Day included Beyoncé and Bradford Shellhammer.

Low rumblings of thunder sounded off and on all day, so when night fell and the thunder ceased, it felt more remarkably quiet. Then the crickets began their nightly concert, and even though the attic window was closed off to the heat, I could hear them chirping. This is the sound of August – one of the happiest sounds in the world. 

On this Sunday night, I am posting this in real time, not my customary practice. It carries the capacity for danger – misspellings and mistakes – and the possibility of the imperfect, something I’ve been trying to embrace. A pair of air-dropped photos, taken from our ride back from Amsterdam, embody the end of our day. It’s still summer light, and then still warm even after the sun goes down. August is ripening gradually, the way it does in a good year. 

Taking a deep breath to prepare for the work-week ahead, I sit in the attic by myself, and in silence – the crickets my own soundtrack, soon to be joined by the hum of the air conditioner in the window, which finally decided to kick on even at this late hour. We are in the full embrace of summer and enthralled to be here. Being present is another thing I’ve been working on, and it’s becoming a good habit, especially in the sunny season. 

Whispers of fall are present if you are looking closely. I spied several clumps of goldenrod in tight bud, and our ostrich ferns have rounded the corner into copper – they lasted amid all the heat we’ve had (thanks to some rigorous and regular watering), but it’s finally proving to be too much, and they’ve already put in a solid season of bright chartreuse – it feels right to give them a break, let them burn into their coppery finale. Some years I will cut them back to give their space a cleaner look, but they ay still have a few weeks of foliage left, and if we get some cooler temperatures they may hold on yet. 

For now, for this Sunday evening in early August, I write out this little blog post, saying not much of anything but reaching out to anyone who wants to read something of nothing before we go back into the real world on Monday. 

Let’s keep the summer going… for now. 

This is Queenie Abramo, resident Queen Bee of Southbury, Connecticut.

She’s so cute I almost don’t mind her usurping my title. 

She’s been a highlight of many a visit to Southbury, including this last one that was such a wonderful respite in July. We must plan another one before the cold weather comes back. 

Kira joined us for an idyllic summer overnight, which went by much too quickly, as summer is wont to do. She arrived before noon, and we promptly made our way to the patio and pool, where we lounged in silly sundresses and posed like silly people. Kira is usually game for anything, and we relaxed into the easy banter that comes from knowing someone for twenty-four years and counting. 

Snacking on white bean dip and chips, fresh cherry tomatoes from the garden, and a fizzy lemon mocktail, we lounged languidly before a relaxing dip in the pool. The sun was peeking out from the occasional patch of clouds, and the air was hot – all of it making for ideal swimming pool weather. We stayed there for quite some time as I tried to help Kira advance in her swimming lessons. We made a bit of headway, and after exhausting ourselves we headed upstairs to the attic for a brief meditation. 

Kira loves a pasta dish, so for dinner I made this recipe of Cacio e Pepe – simple and tasty and surprisingly substantial for summer – along with a side plate of tomatoes, mozzarella, balsamic vinegar and fresh basil leaves. A day of swimming always leaves one extra-ravenous, and food tastes better when one is ravenous. 

We descended to the cool space of the cellar, where we watched ‘Swept Away’, mostly for the beauty summer scenes. It was better than I remembered it. Spent from the sun and heat of the day, we slept hard, and the next day we did more of the same before she departed and the week wound itself up again. It was a beautiful visit from a beautiful friend – one that we promised to make happen again in the fall. 

When my future sister-in-law and mother of my Godchild texts a request to find some elusive baby formula, you drop what you’re doing and make a few stops to see what can be done to see Jaxon Layne through the next week or so. 

Once upon a time, I would have put forth the same effort in the hunt for some exotic whiskey or rare gin; this is a much happier search, with a much happier ending, and there’s a beautiful comment on personal evolution somewhere in that. 

(By the way, when did this shit become so expensive? This was almost half a bottle of Tom Ford cologne! And it doesn’t smell half as good…)

After visitors, our home feels quieter, smaller, emptier. Andy is a relief at such times, the last bastion against the possibility of loneliness, something I haven’t felt in quite some time. And it’s not something I necessarily feel right now, but still… echoes of friends and family who have graced these halls reverberate in the mind. This has been a good summer in that regard, and as August begins, the halfway-pause is at hand. 

Ominous signs of Halloween have already started appearing in stores, and back-to-school stuff has been there for a while. Any day now I expect Christmas crap to line the shelves. It’s all too much, too soon, and so I step back into the house, into the quiet, and into the present moment. 

My meditation practice continues, a helpful way to ground each day, when being busy, even with happy events like reunions with old friends, seems to detract from the focus on the serene. A balance must be struck. A summer must be appreciated.