A relaxing herbal tea formed the moment of quiet in a day full of quiet moments.
It tasted of spring, and dried flowers, and herbs awakening to a new season.
It was warm and delicate, rustic yet elegant.
An antidote to the snow that fell so relentlessly.
The garden distilled into a wire capsule, spreading its aromas and tastes into the steaming water.
As pretty to drink with the eyes as it was to drink with the mouth.
An afternoon glimpse of tranquility.
Your daily dose of cute can be found right here, with this clip of a bunny herding sheep.
Not one of the greatest clips, but you get the idea.
We knew it was far from over, but maybe we didn’t know it was this far from over. Winter is set to return with a vengeance, and those few days of 60 degree weather are but wisps of memory now. Who knows how many inches of the white stuff are in store for us, but I’m sick of it all. Let’s go back, if only a few days.
Well, maybe I don’t want that either. I forgot how it began…
Returning to the boulevard of broken dreams.
Finding Dorian Gray in the Albany Barn.
Hunks of the Day included Sean William Donovan, Alex Sewall, Patrick Boyd, Jonathan Soroff, James Longman, Vaseline Doknic & Clay Honeycutt.
For pictorial whimsy, I favor Instagram.
For political madness and outrage, I tell it on Twitter.
For friends real and imagined, I fess up on FaceBook.
Through it all, my heart is revealed on my website. This website.
To be honest, I’m starting to feel like that’s three too many outlets.
Our middle-of-the-day happy moment is provided by this shot from yesterday’s rainbow. It appeared outside my office window, and dropped one end right in front of the Hudson River. I’ve never been this close to the end of the rainbow before, but it bodes well for this final leg of my last tour. It reminds me of the heady days of the Royal Rainbow World Tour… Yes, everything’s as if we never said goodbye…
Rebounding from sickness and back issues and the general ickiness of winter, I’m feeling the first flush of spring fever, and the excitement that comprises the Final Leg of The Delusional Grandeur Tour. Recent stops in Tucson, Arizona and my beloved Boston have been completed, and upcoming jaunts include New York and Chicago. It will conclude in Ogunquit, Maine just before summer begins. Those are happy words and memory-inducers: summer and Ogunquit and Maine.
First, though, the trying days of Lent. The dirty, salty roads. The messy snow of which we haven’t seen the last. The riotous flailing of March winds as the month transforms from lion to lamb. We’ll get there, but we’re not out of the woods yet. It’s still very much winter, and that’s no joke.
My friend JoAnn will be visiting next weekend. That’s another happy thought. There’s a lot to catch up on – a winter’s worth of happenings since we last met around the holidays. Friends, food, and warmth. It’s how we make it through.
The stars of the touring AC2 show, Anderson Cooper and Andy Cohen, posed for Mr. Cohen’s social media outlets, and we giggled gleefully and marveled at the guns and pecs on display. Andy Cohen was a two-time Hunk of the Day, and Anderson Cooper had his Hunk crowning as well. Taken together, it’s more hunkdom than an average midday post can handle, but let’s do our best to collect ourselves. This is what the internet is really for. In these trying political times, let’s revisit why we’re all here, and this picture exemplifies that for me. Carry on, AC & AC.
Today’s dose of cute is brought to you by a real seal and a stuffed seal.
If your heart doesn’t flutter a bit at these photos, I don’t want to know you.
Everyone loved this photo when I posted it on Instagram, so here you go.
People love to see me in distress.
And in a mask, apparently.
The good news is that I don’t have strep throat and don’t have to go on antibiotics.
The bad news is that my throat still hurts.
#UrgentCareRealness
With burning throat, I will do my best to recap the past week in which sickness ravaged my middle-aged body. No one wants to hear about that, so I wrote a bunch of posts on it because that’s the miserable bitch I am when feeling unwell. You didn’t come here for compliments, did you?
It began with the proverbial entrance of March. ROAR!
Bum-baring Happy Ass Wednesday.
The anniversary of the greatest album Madonna has ever crafted.
The greatest feud of them all.
The Hunks of the Day were represented by Will Helm, Amini Fonua, Dima Gornovskyi, Alan Valdez, Jordan Woods and Casey Conway.
Leave it to Ryan Murphy to bring the legendary rivalry between Bette Davis and Joan Crawford to the small screen with tonight’s premiere of ‘Feud’. I’m all for a camp-fest, and recreating the shooting of ‘Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?’ is camp by definition. Even if it’s subtly sophisticated, Murphy can’t help but indulge in his trademark excesses. Susan Sarandon (Davis) and Jessica Lange (Crawford) bring their scene-gobbling prowess to their roles, yet I remain skeptical that this can be anything deeper than, say, the ‘Vogue’ video homage Murphy concocted for Glee’s Madonna’s episode. Perfectly rendered, perhaps, but lacking in depth or substance. If you have something to say, it better be better than, or at least equally profound as, the original. Not sure how one can out-camp ‘Baby Jane’ but if anyone can do it, it’s the team behind ‘Feud’. Either way, I’ll be watching, so they’ve already won.
My throat is still sore, so posts will again be a little light today. Follow my lead and take the day off too if you can – simmer some soup, put on some tea, and grab a book. I’m going to spend some time navigating a new phone, and possibly focusing on my Twitter and Instagram feeds. Think of this as a Cross-Promotional-Synergistic pollination project. There’s FaceBook too, though to be honest all social media is getting tiresome. I include this website in that too. Give me a couple of days to recuperate and find the muse again.
A bright brutally-cold day was greeted with a very sore throat and a lost voice.
This will be a quiet day, in every way.
I’m too pooped to write much, and I can barely speak.
Enjoy this brief respite.
I shall return, and I shall be millions.
Until then, have a cup of tea.
I like a dose of happy in the middle of the day. Usually I find it on a lunch-time walk, a welcome bit of solitude, preferably in decent temperatures. Here’s a story on a very friendly quokka from Australia. Still don’t know what a quokka is, other than a pile of cute.
Waking up with a throat on fire, and a new regime of physical therapy exercises to be executed every three hours, I found myself feeling all of my forty-one years, and then some. The exercises required warming my back first with a heating pad (hello 90) and the sore throat required some popsicles (hello 5). Somewhere in between them was the height of my middle age. We are here, for better or worse.
I’ve felt like an old soul since I was a little kid, yet the older I get, the younger I feel – mentally that is. Physically I feel the years, the decades. They show in my hair, my laugh lines, the furrow in my brow that doesn’t quite melt away the same way it once did. Aging doesn’t bother me, but the way the body begins its slow decline does. I’m coming around to the fact that no one is immune, and that I may need to modify what I eat and how I exercise, and take steps to improve both if I’m to have a full life. That’s a sobering thought, but one perfectly in line when you’re about halfway between 5 and 90.
