The days of hazy weather,
Smelling of gold chrysanthemums
And gray wood smoke together
These are the nights of nearby stars,
The nights of closer moons,
When the windy darkness echoes
To crickets' farewell tunes."
-Elizabeth-Ellen Long
These are the nights of nearby stars,
The nights of closer moons,
When the windy darkness echoes
To crickets' farewell tunes."
-Elizabeth-Ellen Long
Earlier this month, New York Fashion Week came and went, and I honestly couldn't tell you a single thing about it besides the fact that I'll be over here (at some point) catching up, and that the Pantone Fashion Color Trend Report for Spring / Summer 2027 has dropped ... And ... It's not bad? The colors are pretty, and light, and floaty, and fun, and exactly what you want Spring and Summer to feel like.
Oh ... Oh, no.
"I have done nothing all Summer, but wait for myself to be myself again."
-Georgia O'Keefe
(Letter to Russell Vernon Hunter - October 21, 1933)
... And it's ALL my mother's fault!
It started last Summer, well no, it was Spring (the end of April, 2025, to be exact), when I casually mentioned how nice it would be to have some fill-dirt to even out some of the low spots in my yard, top off my garden beds, and level out the ground that lay exposed after the absolute scalping my laurel hedge endured. Fast forward a couple of days to me waking up to a rumbling dump truck unloading FIVE cubic yards of dirt in my driveway that my mother ordered without telling me.
Now, I'm not naturally the jealous type, but I think it's worth noting, my sister gets gifts like adorable sets of pajamas, and fancy baking sheets she'll never use, a little outdoor bistro set for her patio, a new throw rug ...
I get dirt.
It's not that it happens to be dirt, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want the dirt, I would've just preferred it on my terms. My sister gets gifts that make her life easier, or more pleasurable; a little upgrade here and there. My gifts arrive as spontaneous character-building exercises (I'm not entirely sold on the idea that the real treasure is the character we built along the way), also, I don't think anyone has to connect a lot of dots here to discover the complete lack of affection I maintain for surprises.
“I tell jokes and cut capers about the place and make the monks laugh.
They all say I’m possessed by the devil and insult me. But I say to
myself: It can’t be true; God must like fun and laughter.”
-Nikos Kazantzakis, Zorba the Greek
I gave myself permission, this Summer, to savor the Hell out of it ... Like, really squeeze every last drop of joy out of, even (especially?), the most ordinary moments. At the time I was so benevolently bestowing the privilege upon myself, I couldn't foresee quite how necessary it was going to be. I just knew that my nervous system deserved it, and of all the hits I've taken in the last handful of years, I knew I'd still managed to hang onto my senses of appreciation, and play, and I think that actually leaves a person with quite a lot of room on which to build something good.
On this momentous (blogiversary) occasion I want to say, first of all, I can not believe I've been at this for as long as I have, and what's even more unbelievable is that you animals are still coming around to read any of it! The least believable thing of all is that no one has emailed me yet to kindly tell me to log off the interwebs and buy a diary! Actually ... Maybe they have, and I just haven't made it to that circle of Hell in my inbox yet. So, thanks (I think?) for putting up with eighteen years of my screed, so far.
... 'Bout to go, and get some compliments! Today is National Thrift Shop day here in America (we'll celebrate just about anything), but I'd argue every day can be Thrift Shop day if you try hard enough. Don't believe me? Just take a look at the freaks with extreme flipper-mentality over on the TicTac who've turned junkin' into something weird now. Hey, in this economy, I appreciate anyone making a buck whatever way they can, but making thrift-store-shopping your ENTIRE personality, while you take cool old stuff, paint everything greige, and rub dirt on it is ... Weird. I don't care how you slice it. Speaking of slicing, remember that six month stretch a while back when everything was cake???
"August is the slow, gentle month that stretches out the longest across the span of a year. It yawns and lingers on with the light in its palms."
- Victoria Erickson
Don't worry, I won't be tickling anyone's under there at any point in this post, but I have been going round and round the garden a lot lately playing match-maker with my Daylilies ... In fact, I think I'm down to the last few days of this love connection before one of my flower beds turns into a full blown maternity ward. For my fellow flower pervs out there, I've been spending my time cross pollinating the deepest bordeaux red petal, and chartreuse throated Pardon Me, with Nashville Star (I believe?) which fluctuates between a gorgeous oxblood red to sparkling rusty orange with a vibrant golden throat. The latter I acquired from my dad several years ago ... I was down for a visit on a weekend he was loading up to head South for the Winter (it must've been the same weekend I got the chicken wire and bird bath stand that I turned into a mannequin, boy that really was a while ago!). Anyway, he was offloading a bunch of stuff and on his final mosey as he passed the corner of his shop he picked up this sad little plastic pot that housed what looked to be Cousin It's little sister ... "Think you can do anything with this?"
With cookout season in full swing, I figured it was high time to share my most tried and true, time-tested dipping sauces with all of you. These recipes are incredibly low effort, full of simple ingredients, but deliver such a satisfying payoff, which sums up my cooking style 100%. I don't live to be chained to my kitchen, following a bunch of complicated steps, with ingredients I had to go on a treasure hunt for. If that sounds like you, you've found the right place ... If you like it complicated, you can still do that, and let these sauces be the easy accessories that elevate the whole ensemble! Let's get started.
I'm on a quest for the perfect tinted lip balm, and I have not found it ... YET! It's not that I haven't done the legwork lipwork, it's just that no one brand is delivering on all of my requirements. Why not just shut up, use a lipstick or a gloss, and be done with it already? Well because, and my 35 (nah, she was half dead, she wouldn't care), 25, and 15 year old selves can NOT believe I'm about to say this, but sometimes lipstick, or a lip gloss is just a little too much. There, I said it. I can't take it back now, mostly because it's true!
Ok, so what do I want? Oh, the million dollar question, indeed!
The illusion of freedom will continue as long as it's profitable to continue the illusion. At the point where the illusion becomes too expensive to maintain, they will just take down the scenery, they will pull back the curtains, they will move the tables and chairs out of the way and you will see the brick wall at the back of the theater.
-Frank Zappa
“Some people make things happen. Some people watch things happen. And
then there are those who wonder, 'What the hell just happened?'”
-Carroll Bryant
I'm using Carroll's version of the notion brought forth in Nicholas Murray Butler's speech on Charter Day at the University of California, March 1931
"My father told me something when I was very small to instill confidence in me, 'Nobody in the world is worth more than you, but nobody's worth less,' it is an egalitarian view that I've carried around in my life. That's why I am for free schools, free universities, free healthcare, and free babysitting. Because our society could afford it.
In America, people think social democracy is some kind of communism. They think capitalism is freedom. It's not. It's only freedom to exploit people."
-Stellan Skarsgård
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| Still Life with Golden Goblet, Pieter de Ring (1655 - 1660) |
FTC Affiliate Disclosure
Ok, so after burning down my life to implement The 12 Week Year this Spring, I decided this Summer I'd look into a little something the Dutch call, niksen, with the help of the book by, Olga Mecking, Niksen: Embracing the Dutch Art of Doing Nothing. I mean, so far so good, right? I'm digging that title already, it sounds exactly like how I want to spend my Summer!
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| Monsieur et Madame |
June is comin' in hot, folks, and I'm not talking about the weather, though my most excellent tan (circa 1986, minus the body stickers) might suggest otherwise! It's just that I've got a lot of things coming up, or rather coming to an end this month that if I'm not exactly excited about, I'm at least excited to get through, or maybe just excited for what's next? All I know is that what follows is going to be different from what was, and that is the most wonderful feeling. This year is flying (galloping?), and for the first time in many, many years I feel like I'm ... Well, if not keeping up, I'm at least not drowning, and THAT is a huge level up!
"Gays are not interested in making other people gay. But homophobes are interested in making other people homophobic."
-Stephen Fry
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| Girl With Balloon - Original Stencil by, Banksy |
A significant amount of my life has been shaped by death, and divorce ... Which is particularly strange when you consider, I'm neither dead, nor divorced. Dead inside? Maybe. Dead to 1 or 2 people? Sure, even more than that, probably (if I'm completely honest)! Divorced? Perhaps from reality now and then, depending on who you ask ... But as of this posting I'm still currently untethered, and topside, and yet, if I had to describe what has, without a doubt, influenced my life the absolute most, it can always be distilled down to death and divorce. I remember knowing, as a young child, that my existence differed greatly from the other children around me. I experienced, and witnessed things that, even now with two feet firmly planted in middle age, my friends are just now beginning to experience themselves, and still more things most of them never will. Is it just a Scorpio thing ... Death, transformation, rebirth, a curious compatibility with the dark underbelly, or even unexplainable aspects of life? Was I born a little too late into a family of malcontents? A little of both probably, but who really knows?