Archive for the ‘The Summer Garden’ Category

In which The Gay Recluse dreams about the garden. When the February blues hit — and considering this winter, how could they not? — we like to immerse ourselves into dreams of spring, which entails many hours in the seed and plant catalogs. Though our garden is dominated by perennials, bushes and trees designed to […]


In which The Gay Recluse looks through leaves at the sky. For a while we were thinking about watching some of the Republican convention. But — incredibly — it seems even dumber than the Olympics the Democratic convention. It’s hard to imagine people living their lives as politicians, or even journalists. But somehow they do […]


In which The Gay Recluse hates smug people of any political persuasion. Aww, NYT “Domestic Disturbances” columnist Judith Warner is upset! She doesn’t understand why we have to spend so much money on pets, when we could just take them out in the backyard and shoot them when they get hurt or sick, like they […]


In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with campanula. Before we bought this variety, we always wondered why it was called a bellflower. Campanula is Latin for “little bell.” —Wikipedia


In which The Gay Recluse is still voting for Obama. He’s not Janice Dickinson, but whatevs — did he not promise to mandate Sunday bagpipe maneuvers in the park? Let us now make clear our one non-negotiable demand: henceforth we will limit our support of presidential candidates to those who promise — upon assuming the […]


In which The Gay Recluse loves the weeping blue atlas cedar and the first episode of The Hills. We finally saw the first episode of The Hills. Lo was really mean! (But so was Audrina.) We’re never interested in Heidi and Spencer. Mostly we watch for Lauren. There’s something heartbreaking about her idealism. We can’t […]


In which The Gay Recluse loves trees. So we sit down on the subway next to this guy who starts to aggressively hum. (We’re like: why us?) And then he karate chops at the air in front of him. We ignore him and think about Chamaecyparis obtusa.