From me, Princess Rosebud, the Tugboat Captain’s Wife, with all the answers to all the questions and dilemmas.
The Rolling Stones
“You Can’t Always Get What You Want” (yes, you can!)
By now, I’d say that most of the inhabitants of these United States of America, parts of Canada and various other counties have stopped by Casa de Enchanted Seashells to read my blog. (Ha ha, not really, but nearly 100,000 of you have visited me; holla!)
Today’s lesson will be brief, but I suggest that you bookmark it because you never know when you’ll need the benefit of my wisdom.
Here’s the background…
My tugboat man had to leave unexpectedly just prior to our majorly huge 20th wedding anniversary, you know that, right?
I can’t say it’s all that much of a surprise because it happens every so often that when he’s supposed to be home, he’ll get asked to relieve another captain who might have a medical condition or a family issue, and that’s what happened this time.
That’s the bad news. The good news is that he’s only gone for two weeks and he’ll return this weekend. Yay for that!
I’m just gonna say this one more time — I KNOW that I am a spoiled and very lucky Princess, upon whom my long suffering tugboat man lavishes expensive and utterly useless gifts from time to time.
I also KNOW that I PROMISED that was going to last me and my shopaholic obsessions for a good long while.
Hee hee. I LIED. Promises are meant to be broken, blah blah, he didn’t for one minute think I was serious about it.
I am SO funny; at least I amuse myself, whatev.
So…working off a bit of guilt because he was away for “the big one” and his innate niceness and desire to make me happy — (btw, how did I get like one of the best guys in the land?) — I searched my heart (and the internet) and decided that I NEEDED a new wedding band to carry our love through the next twenty years.
Are you following me?
With my laser focused research and shopping skills, and after hours and hours of trying on every kind of anniversary band and eternity band I could pack on these fat little fingers, I found the perfect one!
With hub being away, there was no annoying voice distracting me from my mission.
It turned out that the eternity band is not a practical design for someone like me who lifts weights and hikes and gardens and is generally kind of rough on jewelry, especially since I want to wear it 24/7.
Plus, half the diamonds are hidden that way, and I want to be the one to enjoy the sparkle. Who cares about anyone else? Hmmm?
I found a beautiful channel set anniversary band met all the criteria and was screaming to come home with me. It was only .50 carats, not the biggest carat weight, but I think it perfectly complements my engagement band.
How could I resist the call of the sparkle?
I got it sized so now it’s impossible to return! ***That’s an important part of the lesson.
Plus, definitely be exceeding grateful, if you know what I mean. Be EXTREMELY appreciative, wink, wink.
Ta da! I don’t know how to take a pic to show the sparkle, but they do for reals.
In closing, f you need a a refresher course about how to get what you deserve, give me a call @1-800-PrincessRosebud
More of the trials and tribulations of being married to an absent spouse – I’m a grass widow– doing it all alone.
I wrote this post assuming it possessed some merit; after all, it’s got the bones of a story – a DIY project along with some humor, but I’ve since decided it’s a pretty worthless and unimaginative effort and should rightfully be relegated with a click to Trash, but I’m just gonna go with it
Screw it. Whatev.
Hope it’s not a total waste of your time.
But ou’ve come this far, you might as well keep going.
I offer my apologies in advance.
Here we go…
I’m a trash picker upper.
For example, if I see something that’s been tossed out and I want it, I have no problem bringing it home, and if it’s too big for me to grab by myself, I’ll get hub to do it, unless he’s out to sea, and then I’m out of luck.
I want what I want, no matter where it comes from. Almost anything can be cleaned and even disinfected, right?
I don’t know where that idiosyncrasy came from; it’s definitely at odds with the part of me that’s a Chanel-loving, obsessive shopaholic, but hey, an acquisition is an acquisition, no matter how it got to me.
(Am I hearing you think “hoarder”?)
Driving in our neighborhood one evening (probably the next day was our trash pick up), my little eagle eyes spied a library table on the curb all by itself and looking very lonesome.
I made hub stop (actually I screeched, “STOP!!!”) and we got out to take a closer look. Upon inspection, it was a little scarred and well-used, but definitely crafted of a good solid wood and worth a rescue, in my opinion.
I’ve had to teach hub to enjoy alley picking; it doesn’t come naturally to him. He reluctantly agreed that it was too well made to ignore, plus he always needs to weigh in his own mind the level of nagging he must endure.
We He muscled it into the back of the truck and brought it into the garage. It had been painted a hideous institutional gray and would have been too arduous a task to strip the paint and stain or oil it, so I repainted it my favorite shade of fern green.
I couldn’t find a place for it, so it stayed in the garage for about a year — as a platform for some of my projects — until a couple weeks ago when I had the brilliant idea to use it as a laptop table in my son’s room, which now doubles as hub’s man cave.
Hub cut the width to make it narrower and rough-sanded it. When I returned from taking him to the airport last week, I went to Home Depot and got a quart of high gloss burgundy; a deep, rich, saturated hue.
I painted one coat. Then another. Then another. Then another.
Finally, it wasn’t streaky and it was all shiny and perfect. It took practically the whole quart.
This is where I screwed up.
I thought I should protect the top from stains and rings from glasses and coffee mugs. I found some stuff in the garage; Dupli-Color DE1636 Clear Engine Spray Paint.
Not smart. Paint for an ENGINE, not painted wood. Duh.
The first coat came out all cloudy and streaky and felt rough, so I sprayed a second coat and it was even worse. I emailed my tugboat man and he told me where the sandpaper was in the garage and that I should sand the bad stuff off and repaint.
His final words were, “And then leave it alone until I get home.”
Of COURSE I ignored him because I was getting really obsessed with protecting that perfect paint job on my free table.
Another brilliant thought exploded in my brain that I needed to bring it up to my son’s room and finish painting/sealing it there.
Therein lies a problem.
We have a tri-level house with two flights of stairs.
The table weighs about forty pounds (I told you it was solid) but it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds to me. I’m pretty strong, but it’s a very unwieldily shape and my short little arms couldn’t fit all the way around any part of it.
The table’s about 47 inches long and I’m 60 inches. Do the math.
I turned it upside down with the legs sticking up, got an old blanket and sort of picked up each of the four ends of the table while sliding the blanket under it.
One step up, two steps back.
I had ANOTHER BRILLIANT idea. Turn the table end over end like a cartwheel.
I huffed and I puffed and I wrestled that stupid table up to the second level.
I took a few minutes to wipe away the sweat and come up the rest of the plan.
These steps are carpeted and should have been easier to push/pull.
I pulled that stupid table ALMOST all the way — and guess what? I bet you figured out where my next mistake was. Yup, I forgot to move the table at the top of the landing — there I was, holding up the thousand pound table with one hand while I ATTEMPTED to maneuver the other table out of the way.
It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out that idea wasn’t gonna work.
I leaned that elephant of a table up against the wall and did what I should have done the first time…move the table out of the way so I could get around the corner.
Up to this point, the process had taken no less than two hours.
And I was only halfway there.
Finally, after much grunting and groaning, that stupid piece of shit table made it to its final destination. I laid a tarp under it and touched up some of the paint that had chipped off on its arduous journey.
Still obsessing over the top, I rummaged through all of hub’s stuff in the garage and found high gloss spray polyurethane. “Hmm, this should work fine”, I said to myself. I sprayed the first coat and it was all streaky, but I gave it a few minutes, then I ran my finger over it and immediately ruined it ‘cos it was still wet. I read the directions and it said to wait four hours between coats, so I went shopping (haha) and came back a couple hours later. I figured that was long enough and sprayed another coat. FYI–this is NOT a good thing to do inside the house even with the window open. The fumes are GNARLY.
I thought maybe I used the wrong stuff again so I drove down to the village to Ace Hardware and picked up a small can of oil-based polyurethane. I was just about to paint on a coat of that over the other two coats of the spray-on stuff when I thought I should double check with my tugboat man since he’s really the expert around here. When he finally emailed me back, he told me not to use the oil-based stuff on painted wood unless I first tried it in a spot that wouldn’t show, because it might not work with the kind of paint I used, and could cause all the paint to “lift and pe.
Who knew this was going to be so difficult?
I decided to spray one more coat just to do it, and lo and behold, that third coat did the trick! It’s shiny, it’s glossy, it’s perfect!
This time I didn’t give in to the temptation to run my fingers through the fresh spray.
This whole ordeal was shared by my hub with his crew; another story about his wife so everyone laughs at my escapades, but I don’t mind because I have a beautiful table and I did it all by myself.
Look at the shine on that baby! I can practically see myself!
Now when my Angel Boy comes home, he’ll have a lot of room to spread out his work.
On a scale of 1to 10, was this the WORST post you’ve ever read?
Words forge paths meandering around the country and across the world.
I have a friend!!
(Click and listen to Elton John. Super cute vid, too.)
I’ve met some awesome and amazingly talented peeps through this whole blogging thing.
Cowboys and Crossbones is one of my BBFFs (Blogging Best Friends Forever)
She’s gorgeous, smart, FUNNY, and loves animals and Chanel. Great criteria for a friend, right? Oh, and she LOVES a cocktail or two. Or three. You go girl with those Skinny Pirates!
She’s prolly closer to my son’s age than to mine, but we totes connected through this crazy blogosphere. If you don’t follow her, you need to for sure.
We’ve already started planning a meet-up, and the tugboat man will most def be pressed into service as our private chauffeur, driving us to South Coast Plaza so we can get our shopping fix, stopping for liquid refreshments along the way, and generally fulfilling the role as our bitch.
Yay for nice hubs, ammmIright?
Well, if she wasn’t already sparkly and wonderful enough, last week when I was suffering from my MONTY’S REVENGE (all recovered btw) she sent me a HUGE BOX OF PREZZIES!!!!!
Now y’all know that Princess Rosebud loves nothing more than to dive into hot pink and leopard print tissue paper swaddling treasure after treasure after treasure.
She is the BESTEST ever and so thoughtful and sweet!
I’ve made no secret of my love for all that is HK. (Hello Kitty is my soul sister.)
“I’m a proud adult lover of Hello Kitty and I’m not ashamed to shout it from the rooftops.”
Right smack dead center on the wall where my son and DIL display their many academic accomplishments and successes.
Pen and paper to write down lists and lists of wants and needs for retail therapy. 1. Black Loubys 2. Chanel necklace, the long one with the little pearls and CCs sprinkled all over. 3. La Perla underwear….
I’ve looked better, but HK is a beauty in black. Check out the HK cup. And a bag ‘cos a girl needs to carry her treasures home in style.Just in time for St. Pat’s Day! I’m rocking Chanel shades indoors ‘cos I’m cool. I might have the nicest hub in the world, but he takes the worst pics.
Happy Valentine’s Day to all my bloggy friends!
This is true.
We were at Sprouts — kind of like Whole Foods, and I was over in the supplements section getting some chia seeds (which I love to toss in smoothies along with flax and wheat gras and a bunch of other stuff) and my tugboat man wandered away from me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that he was standing at a table of potted tulips festooned with Valentine’s Day signage.
After twenty+plus years, I can totally read his mind.
The wheels were turning, or in his case, the propeller was rotating.
I got the chia seeds and walked over to him.
He said, “Hey, look! Tulips! Want some for Valentine’s Day?”
I said, “Suuure. OK. I guess.”
He replied, “Good. Pick one. Now I’m done, right? Got VDay taken care of and they’re only $3.99.”
He’s a clever one, that tugboat man of mine.
Or so he thinks, wink wink.
Little does he know that as much as I love these soon-to-be-blooming tulips that I placed in a vintage cocoa pitcher, I’m not exactly sure that I’m quite done wanting prezzies.
After all, the week after V-day is our twentieth wedding anniversary and I deserve something HUGE to commemorate the date, right? RIGHT??
The problem is that I can’t think of what I
need WANT. No, I mean NEED. Never mind, I’ll think of something, I’m sure.
The reason why we’re even talking about Valentine’s Day a bit early is because my tugboat man is leaving, but only for a week. He’s going to an officer’s management seminar to I suppose help captains deal with crew issues.
He’s been home for a while; I know that soon he’ll be leaving for a long assignment, and it makes it even more difficult because I’ve gotten used to him being around. I don’t have that anxious feeling like when I know he’s only going to be home for a couple of weeks and then he’s off again.
A week is no problem. I can handle that, plus I’ve been jonesing for some shopping — you KNOW that’s what I’ll be doing!
That meant that Saturday night was our Valentine’s Day celebration.
The way to my tugboat man’s heart is definitely food-related; it’s easy to make him happy. A home cooked meal and a made-from-scratch dessert does the trick.
I made sushi and an apple pie. That’s not exactly the dessert that I would have chosen to pair with sushi, but it was his request, so there you have it.
I’ve been a vegetarian since 1970; I know I’ve been saying since 1971 for the longest time, but I actually did the math, and I stopped eating meat when I was sixteen years old and a junior in high school. For most of those years, I was a total vegan, then I started eating sushi because it was the trendy thing to do; also dairy products and eggs.
Now we’re weaning ourselves away from those animal products too. We agree that it’s meaningful for us to not contribute to harming any living creature.
This time I made vegetable sushi. I haven’t included any how-to recipes because there are already so many great online resources. Rolling the sushi takes a bit of practice, but it’s not at all overwhelming or daunting. I taught myself by watching sushi chefs throughout the years. The first few rolls were loose and fell apart; now they’re as tight and firm as…well, I was going to say something rude and inappropriate here, but I’ll just let you fill in the blank in your own mind, ha ha.
The real work is in the prep; once all the veggies are cut and the rice is cooked, dinner can be ready in minutes.
First we had a glass of wine by the fire.
Guess who’ll be cleaning out the ashes.
Yup, that would be me, Cinderella.
The bear will share a glass of champs, ‘cos we drank all the sake.
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…From the Perspective of an Always Appreciative Gift Recipient.
And that would be me.
The fact remains that Friday, February 14 IS Valentine’s Day and MOST girls LOVE to receive gifts symbolic of their partner’s love and devotion.
(If you’re like Princess Rosebud, you feel that you deserve adulation and prezzies 365 days a year, and you’d think that singling out one specific date wouldn’t be a big deal, but it really, really IS.)
I’ve always loved V-Day.
I still have the handcrafted Valentine’s Day cards my son made for me with crayons and doilies. Remember those?
“Mommy, you are my secret valentine. Will you marry me? I love you.”
Those were the BEST.
Not that I’d turn down a diamond tennis bracelet or another Chanel handbag (oh wait, I promised I’d never beg for another one) …er, I mean a Chanel scarf or necklace, but it’s not always about the amount of money spent that’s meaningful – it’s really more about the effort to find something that is an expression of love.
When you have a travelling spouse like me, wife of a tugboat captain, it’s really special when he’s home for Valentine’s Day or my birthday, or any other day that calls for gifties, ha ha. This year, he’s leaving for a continuing education class (they do that to professional mariners all the time) on Sunday the 9th and might return on the 14th or he might be leaving right from there for another assignment and be gone for a month or two. That means he might miss Valentine’s Day AND our special twentieth wedding anniversary which totally sucks.
He never forgets; however, and I bet after my absolute crazy meltdown in Mexico, he wouldn’t DARE forget to do something memorable before he leaves on Sunday.
It’s really insurance that he’ll live to see another year. Not really. Well, maybe.Ya never know for sure. It’s a good idea to keep them (men) on their toes, don’t you agree? Keep ‘em guessing. Disclaimer: I’m only kidding. (Or am I?)
So, for my own tugboat man and anyone else who might be listening, here’s a few ideas that have piqued my interest:
I LOVE personalized gifts and what could be cuter than hedgehogs?
Hurry to get these romantic gifts home in time for Valentine’s Day.
I found a lot of great and affordable gift ideas for all occasions at PersonalCreations.com
PS. I haven’t been paid for the mention.
“Everything you have is so perfect and fancy.”
That’s what the girl in the cheetah animal hat said to me as we checked in at the front desk of a Best Western hotel on the way back from Sacramento. (To read about my testimony at the Fish and Wildlife Services hearing to delist wolves, click here: Saving Wolves)
We asked the obvious, and she told why she was wearing an animal hat.
“Because I burned my hair last night. I’m not sure ‘zactly how it happened, but when I woke up this morning, one side was burned and shorter than the other side, so I’m trying to hide it with the hat” as she pointed to her head.
“I was partying and can’t remember how it happened.”
Oh-kay, hub and I said together…
It was one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever received.
She GOT me. Totally.
I love being fancy.
And I love me some Coco Chanel.
Infinite perfect design.
If you are a girl who loves and drools over Chanel, the acquisition of the iconic 2.55 handbag is EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING.
History of 2.55
In the 1920s, Coco Chanel grew tired of having to carry her handbags in her arms and decided to design a handbag that freed up her hands. Inspired by the straps found on soldiers’ bags she added thin straps and introduced the resulting design to the market in 1929.
After her successful comeback to the fashion industry in 1954, Chanel decided to update her handbag, for the modern woman. The resulting design was called 2.55 after the date of creation, February 1955.
The bag has a number of amazing features:
Chanel released an exact copy of the original 2.55 in February 2005 in commemoration of the 50th anniversary of the creation of the original. Though the name “Reissue 2.55” should apply only to those commemorative handbags, it is now commonly used now as a name for all the handbags resembling the original 2.55. (Wikipedia)
And now I have my very own.
Another of my life’s dreams fulfilled.
Yes, I do realize that I spent the better part of 2012 obsessing about having a Chanel handbag and I did get one — my very first — the Grand Shopper Tote, but as I explained over and over and over again (ad nauseum) to my hub, that was a DAY bag, my “every day” bag, and I needed (NEEDED) a dressier handbag for special occasions.
Once again, my tugboat man has given me the BEST EVER present. Yes, I bugged him to death for it, but it’s a testament to his good nature that he STILL thinks I’m adorable…if a bit OVERLY tenacious.
However, I’ve agreed (in front of witnesses) that this will be my last Chanel. Chanel HANDBAG, that is. Because there are Chanel scarves, Chanel rings and necklaces and bracelets, and Chanel shoes and clothes. There is so much more Chanel for Princess Rosebud to acquire…shouldn’t he have been the least little bit suspicious when I agreed so readily? Ha ha. Dumb tugboat captain! :) He should know me MUCH better than that, right?
Crap, did I just miss an opportunity to check out Chanel???
Sigh, a mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do.
Aliso and Wood Canyons Wilderness Park is a jewel of solitude and natural beauty in hectic Orange County.
It comprises approximately 4,500 acres of wilderness and natural open space land. Originally, part of the Juaneno or Acajchemem tribal land, it later was owned by Don Juan Avila, Louis Moulton, the Mission Viejo Company, and now is under the jurisdiction of OC Parks.
Within the park lands are mature oaks, sycamores, and elderberry trees, two year-round streams, and over thirty miles of official trails. Many rare and endangered plants and animals make this park their home. This park is designated as a wildlife sanctuary.
To get to the main trailhead for Aliso & Wood Canyons Wilderness Park, exit the 5 freeway at Alicia Parkway and head towards the ocean.
Of course it was imperative that we feed the child. Whether they’re four or thirty-two, the first thing they think about is FOOD! I had prepared a huge amount of food for the hungry traveler and we ate it at a picnic table near the entrance to the trailhead, under a canopy of old shade trees. He ate a couple of his favorite sandwiches: tuna with celery, apples, nuts, avocado, tomatoes, cheese, and lettuce — along with Lentil Cookies, Snickerdoodles, Veggie Chips, Persimmon Bread, and an apple and an orange. We never fail to marvel at the AMOUNT of food Angel Boy can pack away…and that doesn’t include the nuts and raisins for the hike.
What’s up with that kind of metabolism?
He eats so much and burns it all and needs to eat again every couple of hours or so. This is just his normal — I once took him to an endocrinologist to make sure his levels were OK, and we learned that he’s just an extremely efficient food user. All I can say is that he didn’t get that from me.
After almost eight miles, we drove home — exhausted –but in a good way, and restored by the fragrance of Southern California buckwheat and sage.
Of course it was time for dinner and another feast of epic proportions: the stuff of mom-joy, that’s for sure.
Shadow and light, me and my tugboat man.
Great blue heron.
A hidden pocket of water.
More water, rushing over rocks.
A gorgeous meadow and hills, but look at the houses on the hill.
So close to civilization!
Another cool cave.
A happy mom ‘cos my Angel Boy was home,
even if only for a few days.
Merry Christmas! Feliz Navidad! Mele Kalikimaka!
Can you believe it? On Christmas Day?
I‘m going to attempt to take pics with my new Canon Rebel – wish me luck!
I hope Santa brought you all everything you wished for…he brought a new surfboard for hub and yes, I got that Chanel 2.55 I’ve been DYING for, spoiled girl that I am.
Enjoy this little Bing Crosby tune and have a safe and happy day from our home to yours.
My tugboat man and I joined more than forty dedicated angels with San Diego Animal Defense Team and Protest Oceanside Puppy on Saturday in a protest at the Oceanside location of a pet store owned by David Salinas.
Salinas owned a similar business in San Diego called San Diego Puppies before it was forced to close under an ordinance passed by the San Diego City Council earlier this year banning the sale of dogs, cats, and rabbits at retail stores.
Animal rights groups want to end the practice of breeding and selling puppies bred in commercial facilities called “puppy mills.”
Quote from Protest Oceanside Puppy:
The owner of this store is busy churning out Christmas puppies and trying to make a profit off of the backs of the mother dogs. We have pictures of the inspections done at his breeders and it’s horrifying how these puppy mill dogs live their short tormented lives! These mother dogs never leave their cages, stand on wire their entire lives with no fresh air, little or no veterinary care and no socialization. Please help educate the public that THIS IS WRONG. This store owner was already shut down in San Diego! We must stand up against animal abuse!
About a dozen cities in California have adopted ordinances placing restrictions on the sale of animals from commercial breeders, including Chula Vista, Los Angeles, Aliso Viejo, Laguna Beach and Dana Point.
Under the ordinance passed in San Diego on July 9, no store can display, sell, deliver, offer for sale, auction, or give away animal pets in the city. Existing pet stores, including San Diego Puppy, were given up to six months to stop those practices.
Pet stores can (and should) offer adoptions of dogs, cats, and rabbits in partnership with a shelter or rescue groups.
If you’ve ever seen a photos or a video of the living conditions of the breeding dogs and puppies, you’d be as horrified as I was.
I am continually disappointed by the inhumane treatment we inflict upon other living creatures.
Sometimes we have to be assaulted by the ugly truth before we can make a compassionate decision.
SHAME ON CARLSBAD!
My city continues to allow California Pets to sell animals obtained from puppy mills.
Please take a few minutes to email or call your elected officials to let them know that you support any decision to shut down stores that sell factory farmed pets.
How can we, as civilized and caring people, continue to allow this to occur?
… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …
But…being me, that is, being Princess Rosebud, I had to adorn myself in the appropriate fashion forward outfit to stand on the street holding a protest sign.
As much as I love to defend and protect animals, I also love to dress properly for any and all occasions.
I chose a sparkly Dior Not War t-shirt over Joe’s skinny jeans, brown knee-high boots, a butterfly scarf from Nordstrom, pulling it all together with a lovely gray sweater from Anthropologie.
Since it was sunny, I topped the look off with a lively turquoise straw hat, Chanel sunglasses, and my Chanel Grand Shopper Tote, which was, upon reflection, not the most politically correct handbag to carry that day, but I can’t be perfect all the time…My bad. Ooops.
If you live in North County or you’d like to take a drive up the coast on Saturday, please spend a few hours supporting these amazing and dedicated animal defenders.
For more info: http://sdanimaldefenseteam.blogspot.com
1906 Oceanside Blvd., east of the 5.
More pix of the day:
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