Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

What wonder is a cup of tea. Seems like such a simple thing – water tinted by dried leaves – and yet in that process is all the worth of the world. I often forget how the mundane acts of a morning make for the sustenance of an entire day. Please, join me, and sit for a spell. I’ll put on some music so we don’t even have to worry about conversation.

While a snowstorm swirls outside, let’s keep comfort on the conversation couch, enjoying the calm and quiet and simplicity of a couch. Pull up a blanket if you’d like some extra warmth – ’tis the damn season after all. Sip slowly, hold the warmth in your palm. Tea should be a sensual experience. 

It has literally been four years since I was phased by illness, thanks to that stretch of masks and social distance. I was happy to keep that going for as long as possible, but a nasty little stomach bug final caught up with me, and as I write this I’m propped up in bed, just seconds away from my next all-liquid bowel movement. 

The bathroom is my church now, the toilet a porcelain throne and altar all-in-one. Unsure of which end may be evacuating first, I do a little dance, make a little twirl, and if my friends could see me now…

At such times, bound to bed and bathroom, my mind wanders and tends to put out just as much crap as my body (such as in this blog post quaintly entitled ‘Holding Onto My Penis For Dear Life’). Hence this stream-of-semi-consciousness

Andy has been dispatched to pick up some popsicles and Pedialyte, and I hastily assembled a pie mold of jello and popped it into the fridge before I went fully down. The last time I downed some Pedialyte I was attempting to stave off a hangover (and it worked!) but I’d rather be here than there any given day. 

As for the blog schedule here, this bug came at a most inopportune time, as my first burst of promotional packages hyping up this website’s 20th anniversary are set to be delivered this week. Thus, the universe has spoken, and I have been told to slow down and listen, pause and reflect. That’s my usual tone for Lent, so everything is as it should be. 

Today marks two months of winter done, and one more to go. Before we jump into elation, however, I have to remind myself that this last month is always the toughest, even if there will be days when spring is definitely and defiantly in the air. We can get snow up until May in these parts – and some of those storms are the snowiest and most frustrating – so we will not be sending up a celebratory flare just yet. Keep it in your back pocket for another month. We can, however, recap the following week, and put that into the books. Another week of winter down… only a few to go. Hang in there.

Valentine’s Day opened with a bit of cheesy music, the way this Hallmark holiday should be greeted. 

The day of love closed out with an acoustic set, because love is love is love.

A mundane mid-afternoon in downtown Albany.

Looking back out of sheer exhaustion.

Roses not for Valentine’s Day.

Round one of a new Madonna bracket was inspired by the Super Bowl. 

Date night with Andy at the Scarlet Knife.

First perambulation of the year. 

Coaxing a mystery orchid back into bloom. 

Sticks of winter fire against a February sky. 

The miraculous cotton candy grape.

Dazzlers of the Day included Ricky Martin, Harper Watters, Salma Hayek, Marcus Law, and Jo Koy.

The stems of the Coral Bark Japanese Maple give the tree its name – a bright coral red that is a highlight of the winter garden, when the world is starved for color and vibrancy. Lit by the sunlight of late afternoon, which grows happily longer by the day, these stems look brilliant against a blue sky. 

In the spring, the chartreuse leaves of this tree complete the show with a stunning shade that complements its bright bark. Holding that thought while the winter limps onward is a test of mental fortitude, but rather than force the matter, I’m going to appreciate the stems bare against this February sky.