This swallowtail butterfly paid us a visit a few days ago, right after a hummingbird had been flitting around the cup plant blooms. While this plant can get unruly and push its volunteers out of all sorts of bounds, the charming visitors it brings, and its own whiny and charm, more than merits such a cost. With carefulness, it can all be kept under control.

The same cannot be said of the magnificent swallowtail butterfly, or any butterly for that matter. We can provide a safe haven, plant its favorite flowers, and make for a welcoming environment where it won’t be bothered, but the rest is entirely out of our hands. That the butterflies and hummingbirds and bees still visit is a happy turn of fortune. 

“Positive people are not positive because they’ve skated through life. They’re positive because they’ve been through hell and decided they don’t want to live there anymore.” – Mona Lisa Nyman

My friend Ann loves Mondays. She was explaining this to me in earnest and genuine enthusiasm, exclaiming that it offers a new chance to start fresh at the beginning of every week, and once you’re have the outlook the Sunday scaries dissipate. I’m not quite there yet, but I kept that in mind as I started the workday, and staying in that mindset throughout the day proved surprisingly helpful. Ann has been through more than just about anyone I know, losing her parents and two siblings, and still moving forward with a positive attitude. The opening quote personifies who she is. If she can be positive and upbeat in the face of so much tragedy, all of us can be. It’s a choice, and I’m reframing the dour way we end the weekend and welcome the new week with a different slant. So much of life is a matter of personal perspective and how we look at and view and take in the world – over that we have an element of control, and any chance you have to make your own destiny is one you must take.

And so, as we end this summer Monday, I take some inspiration from Ann, who reminded me of many good things this weekend…

A week wrecked by the full Buck Moon wreaked havoc at the workplace and in the world. As we reckon with the changes in the air, I retreat to our home, and our chosen family. More on that in a bit – for now, our usual Monday morning recap.

It began in super hot and super humid fashion, and we did what we could to remain impossibly refreshed.

Make way for the Albany ducklings. 

When trite is right.

Returning to meditation that matters.

An old man’s rant.

Pink lilies for a coquette summer.

Daisies beginning, daisies ending.

Losing my mind.

True blue in an almost-pink sky.

A striking combination.

You sexy Passiflora.

A coquette visit to soothe the soul.

Unbaked doubt.

Never the boy of summer.

So stupid.

A birthday wish list.

Dazzlers of the Day included Bryan Ruby, David Gandy, and Bette Midler.

My birthday is almost one month from today, so plan accordingly, especially with the shipping delays I’ve noticed lately from Amazon Prime. (And speaking of Amazon, here’s my Amazon Wish List link for anyone looking for filler.) The rest of this list is, let’s be honest, for Andy and my Mom and very special close friends because some of these are big asks. However, as a wise woman once wrote in a book called ‘Sex’, “A lot of people are afraid to say what they want. That’s why they don’t get what they want.” Proceed accordingly, and thank you in advance from the bottom of my heart.

I’m hoping to have procured the origin fragrance for this one by the time my 49th anniversary on earth rolls around, so the Le Labo Bergamote 22 Body Lotion would make an ideal accompaniment. Scent lasts so much longer when you have the lotion to go with it – and lotion always makes everything better.

The gold obsession, sparked by the prominence of gold jewelry in all things coquette, rages on with this Bezel-Set Peridot Station Necklace in 18kt Gold Over Sterling (20″ length please) – which would mark my first foray into wearing my birthstone. As much as I love the color of the peridot, it never seemed quite precious enough to warrant a wear – how absolutely ridiculous of me! Let the peridot celebration commence.

Always one to succumb to a viral candy crazy, this is me begging for more of this Swedish candy. I would be positively gobsmacked in the best possible way if either the BonBon’s Summer Mix or the BonBon’s Sour Mix made it into any birthday gift bag for me. These take a bit longer to ship, and forewarned is fair-warned as they told me in the retail business. 

Finally, speaking of retail, will somebody please buy me the Ash Tropic Blue Suede Trainers by Marc Nolan (Size 9, as they run large)? I recently acquired my first pair of Marc Nolan shoes and they are impressive. 

My friends Ann and Missy have been integral people in my life since childhood, and maintaining our friendship for four decades has made us more like family than friends. They have both saved me from some very dark times, while supplying some of the happiest and most uproarious moments of my teenage wasteland. This weekend they are scheduled to visit – the first time we will all be together since our 10th high school reunion if my calculations (hazy at best) prove correct. Both of them have also promised to be full game for our coquette summer theme. Ann has been cloaked in pink for years – Missy says she will be wearing it for the first time in forever. 

The older I get, and this year I feel older than I’ve ever been (not only because I literally am, but because the past year has taken a lot out of me in just about every way) the more I realize the importance of maintaining the connections that have made us who we are. Ann and Missy were two of the most important people in that formative portion of my young life, and seeing them again will bring all of us the sort of happiness that proves more and more elusive with the passing days. 

Certain flowers come drenched in sex, like certain fragrances. The passionflower – Passiflora – is most definitely one of those flowers. Practically pornographic in its elaborate architecture – not blatantly so like a calla lily’s cloaked protuberance, more in the sense of voluptuous excess, bold and brazen and come-fuck-me fashion. There’s nothing very subtle about the passionflower, and perhaps that’s why I’ve never grown one. Despite ample evidence to the contrary, I’m a subtle girl. Yes, he whispered, a lover of subtlety…