This little guy visits me every single time i’m outside. He’s easy to identify because of the dark spot on the top of his head. I’m not sure if it’s a wound or an injury, but he seems healthy. I pet him with a little stick; he also enjoys a back massage.
I see nothing wrong with having an alligator lizard as a bestie, do you?
That’s me, chasing butterflies with a camera.
For days, I’ve been trying to capture a photo of this elusive angelic Western Tiger Swallowtail, but every single time I came close, he fluttered out of reach, teasing me. But I’m patient; I had a feeling he’d return and he did!
After chasing him/her for a week, I was talking to it, “You little bitch, stop moving around.” Maybe it knew I was on my last nerve. If any neighbors were out and about, I’m sure they thought I was talking to myself, but I wasn’t. I was talking to a BUTTERFLY. That makes all the diff.
It’s so hot this morning, I was allowed a brief moment to showcase the magnificence while feasting on the nectar of late summer flowers.
The photos aren’t the greatest; it’s hard to focus and run at the same time, but I think it captures a certain butterfly essence, the joie de vivre.
#WordlessWednesday
Even here where a little green worm ate a heart-shaped hole in the leaf of a Cup of Gold vine. How can I possibly be mad at the damage when he left me such a beautiful message?
Right back at you, little guy!
No one can pinpoint the etymology of this phrase with regard to our extremely precocious almost 4.5 year-old, but yesterday was the first time I heard it.
We were FaceTiming so he could tell me about their week-long camping trip. He was regaling me with how much fun he had and how he went surfing and how his baby sister enjoyed her first time living on the feral, as we say.
As an aside, he started referring to his almost one-year-old sister as “Missy” and when I asked him who he was talking about, Mom took the phone and said he started calling her that after I sent an Amelia Bedelia book where the child she babysits for is called “Missy.” T has a very active imagination.
As, we’re chatting and he shows me some new crystals he got at a yard sale–green and purple, his two favorite colors–I heard Dad in the background say, “Tell Grandma about the lake we went to this morning.”
“Oh yeah, hey man, I jumped all the way in from really high, you would have been too scared, little Grandma!”
I said, “What lake?” and “What did you just say?”
And he replied, “Let me ask Daddy.”
He walks over to where Dad is sitting on the sofa (I’m dragged along on FaceTIme) and says, “Hey, man, what was the name of the lake we went to?”
My son started snickering and said. “It was Kachess Lake”.
T said, “Hey man, it was Kachess Lake”.
I replied, “Oh, I saw the pictures and thought it was Green Lake.”
He corrected me, “No, man, it was Kachess Lake. Hey man, did you see me jump?”
“I did. You are a brave boy. Hand the phone to Dad for a minute, please.”
“Hey J-boy. What’s up, man? Where did he get that?”
*snickering again*
“We have no idea; he must have heard it somewhere or maybe on Sesame Street, that’s all we can think of, but literally EVERY other word out of his mouth is ‘man this or man that’.”
“Hey man, I’m gonna hit the red button now. Is that OK, Grandma?”
“Yeah, man, that’s cool. Catch you later. Bye, Angel Boy.”
Have you ever heard a little one use that term in the proper context? He sounds so grown up, so sophisticated. SOOOO precocious. Heaven help us when he’s an actual teenager.
New people moved in next door.
A young couple purchased their first home since they got married. It sounded like this was going to be a welcome addition to the ‘hood, but things took a 180 degree turn when they made a decision to host party after party after party Friday through Sunday from about noon to whenever. With loud music, drunk friends, and a pool, what could go wrong? Think Animal House.
After a few weeks of enduring this disrespect, I mobilized my other neighbors to see if they were as annoyed as I am, and I discovered that they were, especially the couple on the OTHER side of the frat house with a new baby.
This is a family community; we live close to an elementary school. Whether it’s a fam with kids or people like me who have lived here for 35+ years, one thing I know for sure. It is NOT party house friendly. If that’s what they were looking for, their realtor dropped the ball.
Once in a while, a loud party is not a problem. Multiple days every week? NOPE.
It was so unpleasant that I felt held hostage in my home; I couldn’t even go outside in the garden because of the noise. Apparently other nabes felt the same way. It’s been so hot that it’s not possible to close doors and windows. Last night they partied until after midnight.
I was on my LAST NERVE.
Similarly frustrated neighbors and I met (with masks). We strategized and decided to first have a friendly chat and if necessary, follow up with other actions.
We had the chat; there were a few dumb excuses and a bit of denial, but that didn’t last long, then a begrudging apology. Fingers crossed, peace is once again established throughout the land –at least my little world.
This is the first Saturday afternoon I’ve been able to go outside and not listen to their LOUD music and intermittent bouts of increasingly more raucous laughter. The more they drank, the louder they were. PEACE and SERENITY.
“Serenity NOW” as George’s dad said on Seinfeld. “Serenity NOW!”
In honor of the sounds of pure silence, I gave my Peace Lily a sunbath on the deck.
Blissful, healing, tranquil SILENCE.
What’s up?
This is just a random post to test the waters with the new WordPress format WHICH I HATE HATE HATE. For me, it’s taking all the fun out of writing. It’s clumsy and NOT user-friendly.
By now if you have read even a couple of my posts, you know that I am unapologetically a MOM first and foremost. All I ever wanted was to be the mom of one boy, and my wish came true. Not only is he brilliant and kind and a great dad, he’s one of the funniest people I’ve ever known.
He’s a professor of German language and philosophy. That’s actually what his Yale PhD is called: Germanic Language and Literatures.
At my insistence, he’s been teaching it to Angel Boy 2.0 but it’s harder than it seems. We do refer to raccoons as Waschbär, though, so that’s progress, I guess.
I don’t speak Deutsch, I do better in French or Spanish, but I used to help when he was first taking German in high school, like conjugating trinken to getruken.
We practiced with 3X5 cards every day until his conversational skills surpassed my ability to decipher even a single word.
When he did his junior year abroad in Goettingen, I visited him (as the good Jewish mommy-drone that I am) and was continually impressed by his fluency and beautiful accent. People thought he was a native speaker, and I was/am so proud of my Engel Junge (Angel Boy).
I learned to say Tschüss instead of auf Wiedersehen every time we left a store, and that’s about it for my language skills.
He wrote a book entitled The Geological Unconscious
GERMAN LITERATURE AND THE MINERAL IMAGINARY
It probably won’t be read by too many people but that’s OK ‘cos I’m mentioned in it, so my life’s work is done.
Here’s the link to that post: https://enchantedseashells.com/2020/05/14/happy-birthday-to-meeeee/
Tropical clouds drift into Southern California from Mexico but no rain.
This blue sky was in sharp contrast to the whitest clouds I’ve ever seen.
I think weather is fascinating.
Still no rain in sight for us; perhaps some elevated surf, but according to NOAA:
A large area of disorganized showers and thunderstorms, associated with a trough of low pressure, extends several hundred miles southwest of the southwestern coast of Mexico. Environmental conditions appear conducive for development, and a tropical depression is expected to form within the next few days before the system reaches cooler waters later this weekend. This system is forecast to move west-northwestward at 10 to 15 mph away from the coast of southwestern Mexico. * Formation chance through 48 hours...high...70 percent. * Formation chance through 5 days...high...90 percent.
This is a reblog of a very interesting post.
Please click on the link.
via a very secure email model for $6.16 a month
On another subject, I love Mammoth Mountain! In college, for a season, I lived on Lupin St. when I should have been studying. HAHAHA
Here’s my assortment of masks waiting for me on the front seat of the car.
That’s REALITY, a temporary address where I don’t really like living for any length of time, as I’d rather dwell in the realm of fairy gardens with doors that open to a gentle forest of everlasting happiness.
How’s everyone doing with the novel Corona virus, now officially called SARS-CoV-2 (Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome Coronavirus 2)
♥ Are you masking up in public?
♥ Have you been to a restaurant?
♥ Have you or anyone you know been exposed and/or tested positive?
♥ Are you still restricting your daily activities?
♥ Are you still washing your hands more than ever?
♥ Disinfection game still at a high level?
ME:
• I wear a mask whenever I go to a store. As soon as I walk outside, I take it off.
• No restaurants or bars for me.
• My DILs brother-in-law got it, was extremely sick and hospitalized, it was touch and go but he pulled through.
• I’m in the high risk demographic and haven’t/won’t attend any large gathering and I also stay well away from anyone in public.
• Still washing/disinfecting daily but to be honest, I’ve always been a clean freak, so it’s not a hardship.
Here’s the bottom line…I HATE wearing a mask but I do it to protect myself and others.
Just in case. Kind of the same reason I wear a seatbelt. Or don’t drink and drive. To protect you and me. Just in case.
It’s a small price to pay, whether or not it’s actually necessary, but doctors and medical professionals wear masks and other PPE during surgery and when they’re in the presence of patients who present potentially contagious symptoms, so why not?
Here’s POETRY.
Paul Laurence Dunbar wrote a poem about another kind of mask. He was an amazingly insightful poet.
We Wear the Mask
Not just fairy gardens…
Do you have these charming creations in your town?
A fairy door is an adorably miniature door usually set into the base of a tree, behind which may be small spaces where people can leave notes, wishes, or gifts for the “fairies”.
Fairy doors are thought of as portals to a magic realm in which the fairy can come and go, but humans cannot enter.
There are lots of them in my little beach town of Carlsbad, but this is a new fairy door I noticed on my walk today.
It might have been missed altogether except that I was walking slower than my usual very brisk pace because I have a broken toe and it was too painful to walk as fast or as far as I usually do.
The next time, I’ll definitely remember to bring a little offering.
Do you believe?
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 