This is the life of a tugboat captain’s wife…

My tugboat man departed mid-September for what was supposed to be a six-week assignment.

In the world of the merchant mariner, that’s easy; a piece of cake.

He’s still not home and what’s today’s date?

November 22.

Will he be home for Thanksgiving?


Will he be home the week after?

Hopefully, but no guarantees.

Am I complaining?

Only kinda, sorta, cos I’m pretty much used to this by now.

During the first fifteen years or so of our marriage, he worked in our local harbor as a tug captain and also as port captain of a tug company, and then with the downturn in the economy in 2008, he was offered an opportunity to return to his roots of long distance towing.

Not only is he a maritime academy (won’t tell which one) graduate and a high ticket tug captain, he’s a tow master.

Being a Master Towboatman is highly specialized and a difficult and often dangerous job.

Which is why if I don’t hear from him every day, I get a little (OK, a LOT) crazy.

Even though we do have limited satellite email, I haven’t actually SPOKEN to him in a few weeks, but tomorrow he’s going to bring one 800-foot-long barge into a port and exchange it for another one to take offshore and do whatever it is that he does (can’t tell you) and the highlight of my day is a PHONE CALL.


Which makes me very, very happy!

So, in spite of my bestie not being here on this Sunday where Princess Rosebud (me) can make him his fave buckwheat pancakes, I am very thankful that I’ll be able to hear his voice tomorrow.

Gratitude…Take it wherEVER you can find it.



The Life of a Tugboat Captain’s Wife

This is so me when I heard he’s going to be helicoptered in to a remote offshore location…


When he’s home, like he’s been for about a month, I can totally erase from my mind the fact that he’ll have to leave –a little amnesia — and when “the call” comes in, I get all cranky and whiny, because it’s time for the fun to end and my other life as a single woman starts all over again.

It’s another critical situation and so far away only a helicopter will be able to approach — and then what? Land on a boat? In the water? Will he be dropped down a rope? Loaded in a basket?

He isn’t here right now as he’s a a United States Coast Guard class for licensing maintenance (at least it’s local) but when he comes home, I will definitely get the answers to my questions, not that any of them will make me feel great, but at least I’ll know what to expect.

All I know for sure is that whatever it is,  it’s dangerous.

And I’d rather have him here, at home, with me.

But he has to go, and like he says, the sooner he goes, the sooner he’ll be home.

Or something like that.

how to excite your spouse (or why you men should really listen to us)

What happened in our home a few minutes ago is a perfect example of one of the many differences between men and women and if nothing else, it succinctly illustrates the very real fact that men do NOT listen with their full attention when we speak.

The facts:

I was cleaning the bathroom this morning.

Hub was in the garage.

I walked out to the garage and said to him…

“I need some white caulk”

THAT IS OBVIOUSLY NOT WHAT HE HEARD because his response was, with graphic hand gestures (ahem)…

“I’ve got some right here for you.”

End of story.

My plea to MY husband AND your significant other:

Please pay attention to us so that you will be spared the embarrassment (and disappointment) when you actually comprehend what we’ve said when we talk to you.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to CAULK the area around the shower.

Have a lovely weekend.


No Rain But Maybe a Tugboat Man Sighting?

I’m STILL trying to finish up the EMPOWERING series about my recent camping trip and what it’s like to go on a road trip with an adult son and daughter-in-law (funny),  but got news late last night that my erstwhile tugboat man MIGHT be flying home TOMORROW — what’s up with not giving any warning??? — and that changes everything in my world.

I don’t have flight information yet, but all signals point to a positive outcome.

Sheesh, he better not get called back again while we’re driving home from the airport. THAT wasn’t any fun at all. I know that’s the life of a merchant mariner, but it still sucks.

He says he misses me, and I’m sure he DOES, but there’s a HUGE south swell coming this weekend from Hurricane Blanca– we all know what he really misses is SURF.

Ha ha.


Now that we’re down to watering only two days a week and no rain, the grass is already brown and all the other plants look stressed and thirsty.

SoCal gardens might not be as lush as those of yours who have enough rain, but there’s a bit of color to be found if you search for it.


Mandevilla mandevilla2

Artichokesartichokemay2015 Purple Sagepurplesage1 PurpleSage2015 White Sage

whitesageflower2 WhiteSageFlowers1

Lily of the Nile

lilyofthenile1 lilyofthenile2 lilyofthenile3

Butterflies, Bees, Bunnies, Babies, and Bliss

Everybody needs some bliss; especially ME when tugboat man comes home unexpectedly and then even more shocking, gets a call to return to work WHILE WE’RE DRIVING HOME FROM THE AIRPORT!

It’s not unheard of in the maritime world, but I’ve not really experienced it until now.

Glass half full; we had an enjoyable one-and-a-half days. Thirty-six hours is better than nothing.

It’s important to stay positive and present in the moment, rather than dwelling on the injustice, which would be a waste of time, and TIME is precious.

So he’s gone again and it’s time for a little bliss in the form of Mother Nature.

Breathe deeply and OMMMMMM….


ButterflyMay172015may2015butterfly3 Bee on buckwheat. may2015bee Bunny trying to get into the vegetable garden. May2015bunnyI also saw a baby bunny running around, but couldn’t snap a pic before he ran under the deck.

Baby announcement!

The ultimate blissful event is the birth of one of my resident hummingbird’s eggs; you can BARELY see a miniature fluffy speck huddled in the bottom of the nest.

HummybabyMay16Mom feeding her newborn. HummyfeedingMay15

And JUST NOW, the second egg hatched! Could anything be more amazing than Mother Nature?


Here’s an update: Pretty good close up video of the two newborn hummingbirds:

Ending with the B is for Bliss theme, a boat birdhouse.

At least THIS boat is firmly anchored and will stay in one place, right?

boatbirdhouse After the rain; blue sky bliss.

BlisscloudsGone in the blink of an eye; it’s as if he was never here, except that he fixed a couple of my car’s minor problems and I have more laundry than usual.

Tugboat man should be home for sure at the end of June; at that point he’ll have been out to sea for more than ninety days when it was only supposed to be for six weeks.

Such is the life of a tugboat captain’s wife.

PS All photos, unless otherwise noted, are property of EnchantedSeashells.

It’s Valentine’s Day. How About Practicing Random Acts of Romance?

Vintage tugboat valentineMy Valentine’s Day advice?

Practice random acts of romance all year.

My tugboat man isn’t here today, Sigh.

But I don’t really care about Valentine’s Day. I really, really don’t.

It’s not that I reject it for its blatant commercialism (although there’s that, too) but my thought process works like this: why set aside only one day out of 365 to be nice? 

Practicing random acts of romance any time during the year speaks to me of being genuine – that one has had an independent thought not generated by heavy-handed advertising — and expression of love and romance.

It doesn’t have to be expensive (really!).

I get as excited and grateful when my tugboat man brings home a seashell or a cool rock as I do when he brings my favorite Chanel perfume.

With all due respect to Sheryl Sandberg, this is how I lean in

ChanleHowever you decide to spend this day, I hope you enjoy these vintage valentines.

Want to read about our first Valentine’s Day? Click here: He Who Tugs At My Heartvintage valentine vintage valentine vintage valentine vintage valentine

Hairy Hanukkah Harry and The Story of Hanukkah 2012

Hannukah candles

Forget elf shaming, try a little Hanukkah Harry Guilt! (Not gelt).

This post is a time machine back to the year twenty-twelve, but it’s the only one I have for Hanukkah.

That year I was all alone. Again. 

Happy Chanukkah or Hanukkah or Hannukah or Channukah 2014!

However you spell it, it’s eight days of prezzies! 

…or the continuing saga of my life.

As my first husband’s mother said to my mom, “isn’t it such a shame you wasted so much money on her education. She doesn’t really seem to do much of anything, does she?”

Looky here, readers, you all need to stop whining right now. Right now, I say!

I’ve peeked inside your private lives. Here’s a typical scenario:

8:00 a.m. You’re home with your spouse before leaving the house to go to work or he goes to work while you “stay home to take care of the kids” which really means you’re going to Tweet and shop all day and change a diaper or two, only if necessary. Not all of you, but enough to make it true. And I know it’s true ‘cos who do you think I tweet with all day?

Spouse: “I’ll home home at six. See ya.”

{Smooch goodbye}

crzy cat lady bathrobe

This is awesome.

Wife pulls the ratty bathrobe a bit tighter and rebelts it because an important message is acoming…

“Now you come right home after work, don’t stop anywhere; no bars, no strip clubs, nothin’. You come right home, ya hear me?  I’m making something special for dinner tonight.”

Spouse: “OK”

He walks out to the car. Five seconds after leaving the house, before the car even backs out of the driveway, he totally forgot everything his wife said. Typical, right?

6:00 p.m.- no hubby

6:15 p.m – no hubby

6:30 p.m. Here it comes…the power texting, phoning, emailing commences.

{no response}

burned dinner in oven7:00 p.m. Dinner burns. wife drank all the wine, spends time sharpening knives. Candles burnt down to nubs, the smoke of one burnt out candle with its acrid scent floats through the air.

The scissors come out to make a few strategic alterations in his favorite t-shirt.

She opens another bottle of wine.

8:00 p.m. His car drives up, front door opens, “Hi honey, I’m home!”


‘Wha? Why is it so dark in here?”

Where. were. you. I called. I emailed. I texted.”

“Ohhh…didn’t I mention I’d be late today? I -uh- thought I did.”

-End scene-desperate housewives

OK, I could go on and on but the point is that when 99% of you get mad at your significant others when they’re late; when work or whatever–delays their arrival at the appointed hour–you all need to STOP WHINGING AND WHINING about it!!

Since the world revolves around me, take a walk around South Coast Plaza in my shoes (not the Gucci ones, tho. I wear a 5 1/2 and your feet’d stretch ’em all out.) I was expecting the captain tomorrow, Thursday. I cleaned the house, washed the windows, planned and anticipated the whole homecoming–even made a new welcome home sign–and he called and said he’d be LATE.



I’m not saying not to be pissed at your inconsiderate spouse–I would never think to deprive you of that joy–just think about ME next time.


Your “late” and my “late” are two different things altogether.

Ahem. Now, to give equal time to my cultural background as a full blooded Jewish American Princess, may I formally present to you my Hannukah installation….with the one and only Hairy Hannukah Harry holding the torah. Eight candles represent the eight days that I had to wait before I could spend more of the captain’s hard earned money.

Hannukah candlesForget elf shaming, try a little Hanukkah Harry Guilt!

Marriage: Sweatpants or Babydolls?

There’s a time and a place for everything, right?

A BALANCE between sexy and comfort.

But I was really blindsided when my tugboat captain called a couple nights ago.

Even after twenty-plus years, that hub of mine is continues to be full of surprises.

For those of you who are curious about what a merchant mariner thinks about when he’s out to sea, this conversation is quite revealing.

I figured all the thought about was guy things like distances between ports, how much fuel does it take to get from A to B, knots per hour, weather, towing big stuff and trying not to break a tow line, and what the surf forecast would be when he came home.

So, I almost choked on my wine when he said,

“Hey, we’re tied up at the dock for a while and I walked into town to buy you some presents.”

“YAY! You know how much I love prezzies!”

What did you get? No, dont tell me, surprise me.”

“OK, just give me a hint.”

“Nope, not gonna tell you.”

“But…I went into a shop that had a lot of silky, see-through stuff, and I didn’t get any ‘cos it was too hard to choose, but I think you should go out and buy yourself some SEXY LINGERIE.”

He even said words that have never been spoken by his lips EVER…

He said “baby dolls”.

Baby dolls. I had no idea he even knew what that was.

BUT with the caveat that they need to be classy and of a silky-type material. He’s a detail man, my captain…

I asked him if he wanted La Perla ($$$$$) or Fredericks of Hollywood (stripper pole-ish).

Once I explained the cost of La Perla, he said “somewhere in between”.

This is La Perla $450.00!! NOT GONNA HAPPEN. This is proof that my tugboat man has been away far too long if he thinks my body would look good in something like this.

Not even with all the lights off. NOT EVEN.


I guess the years decades of sleeping next to a someone wearing Hello Kitty pajamas has taken its toll, don’t you agree? Aren’t I ADORABLE?hkpjAgent Provocateur is something I can do. I think. In the dark. It’s not Hello Kitty, but it’s animal print.  It’s the least I can do for my wonderful hub. A sacrifice, but isn’t that what marriage is all about?babydollagentI’m on a mission, first to see what Victoria’s Secret has to offer before I expand my search to other areas.

In this season of giving, I love to shop for ME.

Life is tough for this tugboat captain’s wife.

Wish me luck!


Best Christmas Decorations EVER. Haters, Line Up! Yoo Hoo, #Pinterest, I’m Calling YOU!

 I hope you enjoy a repeat of one of my most clicked on posts of 2012 while I get ready for my son and DIL who are visiting for a couple of days and my tugboat man who’ll be home on December 23. 
…..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     …..     


It was last year that I was inspired by other topnotch decorators who so kindly blogged about their DIY Christmas tree masterpieces.

In fact, I was so inspired and so thrilled to be stuck here all alone for the millionth time during the holidays that I created a masterpiece of my own, just for you, my loving internet family.

As I looked around my house, the elliptical seemed like it had the best “bones” to adorn.

Plus, it had a ready-made beverage holder!

I didn’t have any Maxi-pads or other feminine hygiene products–‘cos THAT ship has sailed–if you know what I mean. (Hey cool, a nautical reference jauntily tossed in. Damn, I’m good!)

I added a toilet paper garland, a couple of Sophie Kinsella novels, two glittery seashell ornaments, a bottle of wine in the beverage holder, a white plastic poinsettia, a few EMPTY gift bags, and a festive plush Hello Kitty toy.

You can’t really see it very good, but there’s a chocolate bar too, which I don’t have to share with anyone! I’m such a lucky girl! This is the best use I’ve found for the elliptical. Hanging freshly ironed shirts hanging on it is a close second.

Now you can carry on with your day; just take a moment to let it all sink in.

The moral of the story is that it might not be a good idea to leave Princes Rosebud alone for long periods of time.

Don’t HATE…Emulate.

Decorated for Christmas elliptical

Property of Enchanted Seashells, Confessions of a Tugboat Captain’s Wife

decorated elliptical

Property of Enchanted Seashells, Confessions of a Tugboat Captain’s Wife

I’m Guessing The Honeymoon Is OVER

Source:Found on Pinterest

Source: Found on Pinterest

Here’s why.

This is what it’s like being married to a professional mariner who’s also a surfer.

My erstwhile and often absent tugboat man is trying to program his work schedule for the rest of the year based solely upon future winter swell forecasts, and NOT about being home for the holidays.

On his regular daily call, I was forced to listen to a thirty minute diatribe (while he’s studying a calendar) about these pressing issues:

“If I come home now, I’ll miss the next swell but if I stay a bit longer, it’ll put me in the perfect position for that potentially big December surf.”

Nice to know I’m such a high priority in his thought process, right?

Welcome to my world, friends.

And don’t even think for ONE MOMENT that I’m not contemplating either jewelry or a new dress that will look FANTASTIC with those new Loubies I’m getting because of his previous infraction.

(Hee hee)