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About Enchanted Seashells

Also known as Princess Rosebud! MIDlifestyle blog. Mom of Professor Angel Boy and Grandma to Angel Boy 2.0 and Angel Girl 2.0. Love to camp and hike. I've been in a few films, am obsessed with seashells, sea glass, and rocks; gardening and baking, Hello Kitty, Chanel, Leon Russell, and anything sparkly. Veg since 1970 and an ardent animal activist forever. Fashionista...veganista...animal activista. I'm still trying to find the perfect shoe!

What’s Your Sign?

We used to ask that a lot, do you remember? 

OK, I’ll go first.

I’m a Taurus through and through. If you look up almost any description of Taurus the Bull, you’ll be able to suss out most of my personality traits.

A Taurus is born between April 20 and May 20. Taurus is the second of the twelve astrological signs and is represented by the bull constellation. Of the four zodiac elements (air, earth, fire, and water), Taurus is an Earth sign, which kinda makes sense to me ‘cos I love to garden and play in the dirt.

Collectively, Earth signs are practical, stoic, and determined. We Taureans are known for our tenacity, but there’s more to me than that… we’re a bit of dark horse. Ruled by the planet Venus, we share her traits of beauty, artistry, and a love for luxury and comfort. (Soooo true.)

Taureans are considered to be the anchor of the zodiac. That fixed modality means that we love our stability and find comfort in consistency.

With Venus (the goddess of love) as our dominant planet, we won’t shy away from romance. If a Taurus has chosen you, our loyal, genuine nature means we’re in it for the long haul. We are devoted and trustworthy and loving and faithful and dependable and have a highly developed sense of integrity and self respect. 

Taureans aren’t fond of authority (SOOO TRUE!) and might challenge a teacher or professor (or cop) whom they believe is wrong about something or just wasting their time. You know that one student in class who’s always challenging the professor? Probably a Taurus.

Above all else, people born under the Taurus sign value honesty.

Taureans, like the bull that represents them, are known to be intelligent, dependable, hardworking, dedicated, and stubborn (teehee).

I’m sure we Taureans have a few shadowy negative traits, but I’m only focusing on the positive ones here.

Did you know that Mark Zuckerberg and Queen Elizabeth are both Taureans? For me, the best part of being a May baby is that every seven years, my birthday falls on Mother’s Day, so I get to celebrate my birth along with the joy being mom to the original Angel Boy.

What’s YOUR sign?

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Blossoms of July

These (not mine) bluey-blue hydrangeas are amazingly beautiful.

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So is this dogwood (also not mine).

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But my own very rosy red hydrangea gift is special and belongs to me!

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That’s it. Nothing more to say, but enjoy the 4th!

Where’s the bunny? #wordlesswednesday

Do you see my bunny friend hiding in the foliage?

Surrounded by Silver Shield, Pride of Madeira, Jade, and whatever random ground cover I can propagate, my bun managed to shelter himself perfectly within their protection.

#wordlessWednesday

A Rant About Disagreeable People

(Because I’m not sure WordPress allows us to use the word “assholes” in a post title.)

A little slice of life from SoCal, and a reminder that sometimes the best course of action is to stay away from other humans.

While it was still relatively cool with a marine layer and an onshore breeze, I decided to take a walk.

I usually walk anywhere between four to ten miles, and today I thought I’d walk around the lagoon and a bit more, probably four miles or so, ‘cos I have a lot to do later on.

It’s a beautiful day, the birds are out, families are walking, and we were all respectful of social distancing.

Well, ALMOST all of us.

I swear, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with some older post-.menopausal white women with short blonde (to cover the gray) hair.

I’m not shaming them, as I sorta fit the description myself apart from the short hair and wheat belly Trumpian bitterness. (Inside joke for my local peeps,)

I decided to take the long way home and detoured to a public path that winds around a subdivision that once upon a time was a gorgeous habitat for a lot of coyotes and bobcats and even deer and mountain lions. It WAS spectacular. All that’s left as mitigation is this path.

Whenever I encountered another human, we waved hello and each moved to the opposite side of the approximately six foot wide trail, to respect the state-mandated distancing.

Then this happened.

An older couple approached. He was a nondescript white man; she was the person I previously described. I tried to anticipate which side of the path they would move to and I moved to the opposite. Then, in sync, they moved to the other side, so I moved away, thinking we had a silent communication glitch.

THEN, the woman stood in the middle of the path facing me with her arms outstretched, as if to block my way, and they demonically laughed.

I AM NOT KIDDING.

They OBVIOUSLY must not have realized that despite my tiny size, I’m a fire-breathing dragon with the cussing ability of a merchant mariner–and possess zero filter.

I said, “That’s really fucked up.”

He said, “Then don’t walk around here.”

I said, “What. the. fuck. I’ve lived here for thirty-five years.”

Like a toddler, he responded,  “We’ve been here for forty.”

I said, “You are full of shit.”

…snd I kept walking before the incident escalated. I wish I had thought to take a pic of them, but I just shook my head at their abject stupidity.

Who would think it funny to deliberately defy the guidelines to keep everyone safe from this virus? (While I’m not even sure what Covid IS and how it got here, I’ll play along for the greater good.)

Why bother being such assholes for no apparent reason? My hair was in a ponytail and I wore a hat so I can’t even think it was because they hate curly hair.

In the old days, an encounter like that would have ruined my day, but now I realize it’s their problem and not mine, and I don’t take on their negative energy.

However, I confess that it felt really really good to breathe a little fire, hee hee.

 

 

 

Symmetry and Succulents

For me, when hell breaks loose all around, there is solace in symmetry and succulents.

My happy place. No matter what.

Garden; verb and noun.

Breathe.

Happy Saturday!

fullsizeoutput_dfdI love these little matching pots from Daiso. They kinda sorta remind me of Chanel quilting. The plant saucers, also from Daiso, were meant to hold ginger and wasabi for sushi.

fullsizeoutput_dfbNothing but a round sunny yellow plate with a variety of succulents, but they bring joy.

 

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Happy Birthday, Anne Frank

Forever fifteen…
#AnneFrank is trending today on Twitter; I wonder what she would have thought about social media? She never got the chance, though, did she, because she died in a concentration camp. I’m still angry and maybe that’s why I stand in solidarity with #blacklivesmatter and for the resistance against brutality.
I think I first read The Diary of Anne Frank when I was twelve or thirteen. The original version of the film is on Netflix, and today seems like a good day to watch it again and to honor her indomitable spirit and to remember what someone like Hitler can do to innocent people. Especially now.
Some of my favorite quotes:
–It’s difficult in times like these: ideals, dreams and cherished hopes rise within us, only to be crushed by grim reality…I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.
–How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.
–No one has ever become poor by giving.
Human greatness does not lie in wealth or power, but in character and goodness.

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Hot summer day in the garden

Really hot for the beach…

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And probably super crowded, too difficult to maintain proper social distancing, so I’m here:

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with a couple friends …

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and some mulberries that aren’t quite ready…IMG_6688

along with some pretty pretty flowers…fullsizeoutput_df1fullsizeoutput_df2I’m enjoying all the lush and colorful garden because pretty soon no matter what I do, the grass will turn brown ‘cos we probably won’t have more rain until next winter and the dry hot SoCal Santana winds make watering a futile effort.

The Unseen

It’s been a long while since the gardens at Casa de Enchanted Seashells were honored by the presence of a four-legged child. When we had a completely empty nest, there was supposed to be a lot of travel and other fun but that didn’t really happen, at least not in the way I had happily anticipated.

This was my beloved Bandit…Bandit in a box

…and my beautiful Border Collie boy –Victor at age sixteen, enjoying his senior years at what was to be his last Christmas before crossing over the Rainbow Bridge, sitting in the place of honor because he deserved it.

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Lately, something odd and mysterious has been going on here.  I’ve discovered tennis balls and other toys that simply seem to randomly appear out of nowhere, some even in the middle of the lawn, as if a game of fetch was still in progress.

See?

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There’s a monogamous pair of coyotes that visit me on a regular basis and I have a wildlife camera set up to record their activities, so I know the balls don’t come from them, although that’d be super cool if they were bringing me gifts to thank me for my vocal support regarding coexistence with wildlife, instead of vilifying and murdering them.

But…

My yard is completely fenced in–not that coyotes care about that–but to emphasize the fact that a normal domestic dog roaming the neighborhood couldn’t possibly find a way in, and certainly not with a ball in his or her mouth.

I like to think it’s the spirit of my Victor sending me a gigantic message that he’s still chasing tennis balls and he’s up there with Sabrina and Stella Rondo and Beowulf and Tovah and Bandit and Misty and Tawny and Blackie, all my beautiful children who were so very loved and cherished during their lifetimes and beyond.

Here’s my most special part wolf, Beowulf, and a MUCH younger me.

I was part of a covert rescue operation and bottlefed him every two hours. I was his mom and he was my perfect boy. We were inseparable. Soul mates.

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Yup, I really do miss them all so very much.

But where do the balls really come from?

Holding Space

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IMHO, this is one of the best descriptions of what it means to hold space.

There will be times when you have to release and trust the awakening process. It may not be an easy thing to do, especially when a connection exists. Let others know you are there, offer support when asked and hold space for them in a kind, loving manner. The rest is up to them and The Universe.
Holding Space    The Creator Writings, one of my fave blogs.


I had heard the term but couldn’t wrap my brain around it, and as a slightly OCD Taurus who likes answers to questions and details and timeframes to be specific in order to feel safe, holding space is a confusing and nebulous and ephemeral concept, but I’ve been determined to understand because it resonates deeply with me. I’m relentless when it comes to understandING.

It’s a way of not doing anything when I’m all about doING and fixING and solvING. (All of those ‘ing” words that we’re trained to edit OUT of our writings.)

To hold space is to do nothING but BE.

BeING.

That very beINGness of taking a breath and stayING silent and havING faith and trust that everything is happenING as it should–well, that’s nearly impossible for me.

But here I am. I am. So hum.

 

“The Sparrow” by Paul Laurence Dunbar

I love this little bird. It really seems like he likes to follow me around so I started to follow him and snap pics everywhere he hopped.  A special little friend for sure.

The Sparrow

A little bird, with plumage brown,
Beside my window flutters down,
A moment chirps its little strain,
Ten taps upon my window–pane,
And chirps again, and hops along,
To call my notice to its song;
But I work on, nor heed its lay,
Till, in neglect, it flies away.
So birds of peace and hope and love
Come fluttering earthward from above,
To settle on life’s window–sills,
And ease our load of earthly ills;
But we, in traffic’s rush and din
Too deep engaged to let them in,
With deadened heart and sense plod on,
Nor know our loss till they are gone.
Paul Laurence Dunbar – 1872-1906

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