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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!

Monday’s Life Lesson

People talk to me. Maybe it’s because I’m small and seemingly non-threatening (little do they know!) — whatever the reason, I can be anywhere and random folks’ll share very personal stories.

Like today, I was out and about finding the perfect plastic containers to organize old files and financial documents that aren’t supposed to be thrown out — I’m not sure if the rule is to keep them for seven years or ten years, so I’ve settled on forever, just to be safe.

I’ve lived in the same house since 1985 and have a LOT of paid bills and receipts and I’ve saved them all, because you never know when you need to find the receipt for a chair we purchased in 1987. Even if we don’t have the chair anymore. Is anyone whispering “hoarder” yet?

That’s another day’s post about my office purge, and it’ll be complete with pics.

Today, I found perfectly sized plastic containers with locking handles at Target because I hate Walmart. Standing in line to purchase them, the clerk was making every mistake in the book ringing up my THREE ITEMS. First, she only charged me for one box which would have been cool, then she corrected her mistake when I said, “Is that the price for all of them?”

Staring off into space when I asked, “Do I need to press a button for credit, not debit?” was slightly troublesome and weird, but I was having a happy day and repeated my question, thinking perhaps she was hard of hearing.

This was no twenty-something with a bad attitude at her first job. This was a lady in her mid-to-late sixties and you could tell by her wrinkles and gray hair that life had not been too kind to her. Here she was, working at a minimum wage job, standing on her feet for hours, when she should have been at a book club or gardening or anywhere but wearing that unflattering red t-shirt. Ya know?

Tears slowly filled her eyes and made their way down her cheek.

“I’m sorry”, she said. “I’m not really ‘with it’ today.”

“My best friend just called me to say that her dog died suddenly and while she was taking him to be buried, her car blew up, and to make matters worse, she’s being evicted from her apartment.”

She said, “It’s hard to keep my mind on anything but thinking about her. She loved her dog more than anything. How much pain can one person bear?”

I was sooo glad that I hadn’t been my snarky/bitchy/impatient self. (At times I feel that everyone was put on this earth to serve me (princess complex) and I’ll admit to acting a teensy weensy beeyotchy.)

I racked my brain to come up with an appropriate consoling response. What was the right thing to say in a situation like this? I felt so bad for her, her friend, and the dog. I told her that she was obviously a great friend to someone who must be a wonderful person to feel that kind of love for her dog. It’s all I could come up with at the spur of the moment.

This brief interaction made me pause and think about life and what’s important and somewhere in all of that, there’s a lesson to be learned.

What’s the lesson learned?

1 Sometimes, life sucks.

2 Sometimes, it’s not all about the shoes.

(Come on, you didn’t really think I was gonna get all preachy, did ya???)

“That which we call a ROSE by another other name would smell as sweet.”

Pink rosebudWas I named because of a love for Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet?

No.

Was I conceived after a my mom received a dozen roses from my dad?

No.

Was I named after a sled?

No.

Was I named for Rosebud Salve?

No, but I have a tin of the sweet stuff, a thoughtful gift from my son.

Where did my name come from?

Following the Jewish tradition of naming children after a deceased relation, I was given my paternal grandmother’s name.

Rosebud was my nickname, and is still used  — infrequently —  because, as I point out, the bloom is off the rose, and I am no longer a bud.

However, I do smell as sweet because I am an anomaly.

I have no body odor.

Never did.

I’ve never used deodorant and have never needed to use it.

It’s true.

Even after working out at the gym during an especially difficult Boot Camp class or after a couple of days hiking on a hot, dirty, dusty trail— I don’t smell bad AT ALL.

In fact, I smell sweet.

You can ask anyone.

“That which we call PRINCESS ROSEBUD by any other name would smell as sweet.”

And I DO.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Romeo and Juliet

In Act II, Scene II of the play, the line is said by Juliet in reference to Romeo’s house, Montague which would imply that his name means nothing and they should be together.

Juliet:

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.

Romeo:

[Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?

Juliet:

‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself.

Romeo:

I take thee at thy word:
Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized;
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

Daily Prompt: Name that… You!

by michelle w. on September 2, 2013

Do you know the meaning of your name, and why your parents chose it? Do you think it suits you? What about your children’s names?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us IDENTITY.

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Wordless Wednesday — Moose Tracks — Don’t Murder Animals

Is it really Wednesday already? On my way to a Pilates class, here’s my contribution:

Moose Resting in Tall Grass in Grand Tetons.

moose

He didn’t move all day. He was about ten feet from the trail when we began our hike and four hours later, he was still there. We watched him for a while, admiring his rack (ha ha) and wondered how anyone could kill such a beautiful creature and mount the antlers on a wall for decoration. 

It hurt our heart and soul to think that if this lovely animal wandered off the protected lands of Grand Tetons National Park, he’d be slaughtered.

If I was anti-hunting before this trip, I have become (if possible) even more militantly against animal murder.

At the risk of offending anyone, I’d like to suggest that hunters have sociopathic tendencies. That opinion was derived from an animal rights group and it resonates with me. 

I guess this wasn’t so wordless after all.

Wolves, Bears, Bison, Moose, Elk, and more…

Please join me in stopping  the insane murders of these magnificent creatures.

Please join me in stopping the insane murders of these magnificent creatures.

Hello!

We’re back from our journey — a circuitous route from SoCal to Yellowstone, Grand Tetons, and the Great Basin National Park.

I kept a journal to record every special moment of our vacation.

We hiked, we kayaked, we camped.

We were in a bison traffic jam.

The main purpose of our trip was to fulfill my desire to see wolves in the wild — and we were so lucky to view at least eight of the famous Lamar Valley wolf pack in Yellowstone, including the magnificent 755.

I’m even more passionate about stopping the ridiculous murder of wolves.

We met dedicated park rangers everywhere we went.

The Grand Tetons are AMAZING–we camped, hiked, and kayaked at Jenny Lake.

Our last day at the Great Basin National Park was breathtaking and exciting and scary — thunder, lightening, rain, hail, sleet, and snow; hiking at 10,000 feet. The temp went from the mid-eighties to low thirties in about an hour. AMAZING.

I’ll be downloading pics and writing about it all —

(We had tentative plans to meet up with another blogger in Idaho as we drove through, but we had stayed an extra day in the Tetons ‘cos it was so amazing and I was feeling kinda bad from the heat, so we couldn’t make it happen. Sorry, it would have been fun)

Hiking in Julian

Broken wrist notwithstanding, it was time for a back-to-nature adventure; this time a seven plus-mile, four-hour walk.

We drove up to our local mountain to the beautiful and historic town of Julian to hike the Santa Ysabel Open Space Preserve, East End. The Cedar Fire in 2003 caused some damage that’s visible in a few burnt out trees, but most of it was spared.

Santa Ysabel East End Open Space PreserveTo get to the starting point from Julian, drive two miles north on Farmer Road to Wynola Road, jog briefly right, and turn left to remain on Farmer Road. Continue 1.2 miles north to the Santa Ysabel Open Space Preserve staging area on the left.

Start heading west, alongside the upper reaches of Santa Ysabel Creek, on the Kanaka Loop Trail. This part of the trail doubles as a segment of the unfinished Coast to Crest Trail, which will ultimately stretch all the way to the coast at Del Mar. It would be so cool to hike that one day.

Right away you’ll notice cattle — as in COWS — grazing on the grassy hillsides overlooking the creek. Another not-quite-natural occurrence is the appearance of large flocks of wild turkeys. The 20,000 or so turkeys now roaming the Julian-Cuyamaca area descended from an initial population of about 300 that hunting enthusiasts  animal murderers introduced in 1993.

I forgot my camera in the car, so here’s my embarassingly poor rendering of the cows and turkeys we saw.

Don't I draw like I'm five-years-old?

Artist: Princess Rosebud …Don’t I draw like I’m five-years-old? Obviously, both sides of my brain are not evolved equally.  It’s a good thing I don’t shop like I draw.

We saw sycamores, black oaks, and blackberry thickets. It’s a very active site for mountain lions – prints were everywhere along with a lot of coyote and mule deer scat.

The cows have an amazing playground; why they chose to sit in the middle of the trail along the entire route and either give us dirty looks or cause us to walk into the brush to get out of their way or in one case, CHASE US, I have no idea. They are VERY large and appear malevolent as if they know how big they are and were laughing with each other at my FEARFUL screams of “Go away, go away, shoo, shoo, get out of here, you stupid Cow!”

Geez, we don’t even eat meat, so they should have been extra nice to us, don’t you agree?

If I had my camera, I would have taken pics like this…

Kanaka Loop

Other people’s pics

It was a beautiful hike, not too strenuous for my still-healing broken wrist, and we decided to drive the few miles into Julian and walk around like tourists. Julian is an old mining town and is quaint and cute. We went into a one hundred year old soda shop and had a yummy sarsaparilla.

Now I have my camera again.

We gave this guy a few dollars for his animal rescue, ‘cos his little mini-pony was adorable. 

minipony

Carriage ride
Julian realty
Our fun day ended with a stop at a farm stand. Twenty-five avocados for $5.00. Yay! Guess who’s making guacamole?
avocados

Hunters ; wolves kill for “fun and sport” : The Truth

Still suffering from my broken wrist which makes typing slightly awkward and painful, so I’m gonna reblog this post about killing wolves. In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m an assertive animal advocate.
**Stop killing wolves and coyotes and mountain lions
**Stop supporting any business/entertainment that uses elephants or other animals and profits by their abusive training and that includes Sea World
**Be kind to all animals and really, if you do care, stop eating them.

KEYSTONE SPECIES

Written by my brilliant son…
FEEDBACK…http://openhumanitiespress.org/feedback/newecologies/keystone-species/

Claire Pentecost,  "Proposal for a New American Agriculture"  vermicomposted cotton flag. 9' x 5'

Claire Pentecost,
“Proposal for a New American Agriculture
vermicomposted cotton flag. 9′ x 5′

As an apology for the push of The Nature Conservancy to form partnerships with major corporations, director Peter Kareiva recently made a statement that provoked several heated, high-profile conversations: “If one considers the planet earth and asks what are the keystone species for our global ecology, it is hard to conclude anything but major corporations.”

If Kareiva was trying to win over environmentalists to his cause, he could have perhaps chosen an ecological concept less evocative of big oil than “keystone species.”  Or could he have?  Is there any getting away from the reprogramming of reference in what has been called the petroleum space-time continuum? Put differently: can we extract ourselves from oil?  A slim insert tucked into the rear pocket of Petrochemical America, by photographer Richard Misrach and landscape architect Kate Orff, offers a post-petrochemical vocabulary.  But, as Richard Misrach’s accompanying images of environmental degradation suggest, a post-petrochemical culture will also involve knocking out major petrochemical corporations from their role as keystone species.

IMG_0927

The concept of a keystone species refers to those species whose loss would precipitate further extinctions, and in extreme cases a so-called extinction cascade.  The term was first mobilized to describe the unregulated behavior of a maritime ecosystem in the Pacific Northwest following the local extinction of sea otters. However, the current explosion of the debate around the Keystone Pipeline, further exacerbated by the E.P.A.’s unfavorable environmental impact report, spills into the ecological imaginary. With the Keystone Pipeline, the ecology of keystones becomes muddled with the economy of Big Oil. However, if we apply Kareiva’s logic, does it follow that the disappearance of Bechtel, Koch Industries, and TransCanada—major corporations which (or who) stand to profit immensely from the Keystone Pipeline—would lead to an extinction cascade?

Kareiva could have said just as much by referring to major corporations as the apex predators of our global ecology.

In any case, recent ecological studies show that many systems can tolerate knocking out the keystones and the apexes. In ecology, as opposed to architecture, keystones don’t necessarily hold everything together. The new ecologies are anarchitectural.Hegemonies are vermicomposted.

What will become of ”our” global ecology in the absence of keystone species? In the first place, one cannot truly speak of the global ecology. Global ecology is an invention of the Global North. It is a system of exclusion before it is one of ecological belonging. As Philip McMichael writes, the discourse of global ecology promises to “balance” a global system, but that system is one whose goals are firmly oriented around the politics of Northern security, goals which tend to reinforce the skewed international power relations that have resulted in curtailed access for most of the world to an increasingly degraded global commons (see the Gulf of Mexico, the Niger Delta).

Ecological thought, following Marx’s analysis of a metabolic “rift” between the social and the ecological, takes shape today in the bridging of that rift and the dismantling of the monolithic, domination-based episteme of global ecology- and in the development of egalitarian land-use practices that render corporate keystones redundant.

Claire Pentecost, “Proposal for a New American Agriculture”

But the deconstruction of keystones only goes so far. The agricultural turn in contemporary art, showcased at dOCUMENTA (13) and emblematized in Claire Pentecost’s Proposal for a New American Agriculture—a cotton flag transformed by worms into soil— is one important step in reinvigorating political economy with a political ecology. The task of these new ecologies, economies, and agricultures is to consider the extent to which human “life” is everywhere shaped and warped by the nonhuman (worms) and even the inorganic (oil). And the novel environments produced but no longer managed by human activity—from vacant lots to nuclear voids—demand equally novel ecologies.

And so we see today the spread of the ecological imagination beyond the natural world. Today’s literary ecologies, media ecologies, political ecologies, queer ecologies, urban ecologies, and other “dark ecologies” (Timothy Morton) register from different perspectives the often-disastrous transformations of our geophysical surround: the erosion of topsoil, the loss of biodiversity, the acidification of the oceans, destruction of the commons.  But these new ecologies are increasingly tracing the mutation of thought and culture beyond 20th century anthropomorphic models and beyond the destructive legacy of an anthropo-narcissism that still pervades many strands of ecological thought today, particularly in the current geological epoch now commonly known as the Anthropocene. This blog also proposes itself as one of these novel environments.

-Jason Groves

Fall + Break: Another Avoidable Injury

Triquetral avulsion fracture.

That’s the name of the break I sustained.xray

I slipped and fell in this ditch Sunday evening in our upper yard as I was looking for coyotes in the hill on the other side of our property.

I was wearing flip flops (not smart) and my hand broke my fall, but then I broke my hand.ditchAt first I thought it was just a sprain or torn ligaments, but the pain was really, really bad, so I had it X-rayed and the doc confirmed my suspicions.

I’m in a removable cast for about six weeks — no weightlifting but I can do anything else that doesn’t cause pain.

My hand is super swollen and all bruised up, too.

brokenhand

I might not be able to lift weights, but there’s nothing to prevent me from shopping!

I never did see any coyotes but I snapped a pic of this amazing hawk in our eucalyptus tree.

hawktree2

A Project-Based Life

peace-sign-flowersNope, this isn’t an inspirational life lesson about blessings or another sanctimonious diatribe about the rules of living harmoniously with peace signs and luv and future conditional acts of kindness that’ll result in good karma (although those are wonderful ideals.)

Nor is this a guide or doctrine or manual advising you about how to live a VALUE-based life or PLANT-based life (although those are great ideas, too)

In a way, you could say I live a PURPOSE-driven life because I’m on a MISSION.

I’m OBSESSED with buying the perfect wedge. That’s my purpose in life for right now.

As Paula Deen so eloquently waxed, “I izz what I izzz”.PaulaDeen

Butter, I mean but, I truly do live a project-based life.

I do a lot of projects. How’s that? Better?

Tee hee.

I mean, what else can I do to wile away the endless days and hours until my tugboat man comes home? And don’t judge me if you haven’t walked a block or two in my Louboutins.

It’s not like I can have a full-time job ‘cos then we’d never get to spend any time together and I haven’t found the right fit in a part-time position that would allow me enough shopping time. Oh, and project time. Cos I live a project-based life, remember?

Here’s my project du jour: Princess Rosebud shoe embellishment

I’ve been obsessively scouring the shops for the perfect wedge.

espadrillesI found these delightful slides but that just whetted my appetite for another pair. I’ve been everywhere in San Diego County. I went to Fashion Valley-nothing. I went to Saks Fifth Avenue-nothing. I stopped at University Towne Center in La Jolla-nothing. DSW, two locations — nothing.

Finally, I found the perfect lightweight wedge at Barneys Outlet in Carlsbad but they didn’t have my size. The sales associate informed me that they could have the right size sent to the store but I’d have to pay an extra $12.00 and the shoes were already a pricey $155.00. I thought that was totally ridiculous—I mean, it’s like I was being penalized for wanting to buy their stupid shoes. I told her to forget it and walked away dejectedly.

Life is SO tough for me.

Sigh.

Never one to admit defeat, I went to Famous Footwear mostly ‘cos I thought I’d get another pair of Nike cross trainers. I didn’t find anything I liked – yes, I’m THAT picky, in case you haven’t figured that out by now….but I did find these espadrilles for only $20.00, originally $50.00.

OK. You might think these are cute just the way they are, but I see a blank canvas that needs some sparkle, a little dressing up, a little beautification. It’s not that I’m never happy with the way things are; I believe almost everything can be made just a bit better with a little creativity and effort. Maybe that IS a life lesson…

espadrilleswhiteI went to Michael’s Crafts with a single shoe in hand, wandering up and down each aisle waiting for the muse to strike. Nothing seemed right until I found these flowery things (on sale). I couldn’t wait to get home and get started on this project.
espadrilleshowflowers

I embellished the embellishment, and added a sparkle in the middle.
Glue guns RULE!

espadrilleswhiteflowers2

espadrillescloseup

Cute, right? It seems to be the perfect finishing touch for a casual shoe.
Can’t wait to pin these on Pinterest.

espadrilleswhitefinal

BUT I still NEED that elusive perfect wedge. Maybe these Louboutins?
Now THAT’S such an awesome shoe that doesn’t need me to do a thing do it.
It’s so perfect I could kiss it. MWAH.
Louboutin
Since it appears that I’ll be a single woman for another week or so, I’ll be heading north to the holy grail — the the only place on earth that’ll fulfill my desires —
South Coast Plaza.  If I can’t find the perfect wedge there, I can’t find it anywhere.

And that’ll be my purpose for next week. Now I have to think of another project or two; seashells perhaps?

Here We Go Round The Mulberry Bush (Tree)

Bird droppings make great jam.

Perhaps generated by seeds embedded in bird poop; I’m not sure where this tree came from — I never planted it  — but one day there was a little sprout and a few years later it bore its first harvest.

We have two mulberry trees in our yard; the volunteer is fruit-bearing, the other that provides shade to the deck, is not.

silkwormcloseupSilkworms eat mulberry leaves; maybe I could raise a few silkworms and spin my own fabric — except worms are kinda gross, so I guess not.

mulberry tree3

Technically, the fruit of a mulberry is not a berry but a collective fruit, in appearance like a swollen loganberry. When the flowers are pollinated, they and their fleshy bases begin to swell. Ultimately, they become completely altered in texture and color, becoming succulent, fat and full of juice.

In appearance, each tiny swollen flower roughly resembles the individual drupe of a blackberry. Mulberries ripen over an extended period of time unlike many other fruits which seem to come all at once. {Wiki} They’re very sweet and mild.

mulberry tree2

mulberry tree

I learned from Martha Stewart to spread an old sheet on the ground and shake the tree. All the ripe fruit fall; I wash, dry, and freeze in quart bags. So far, I have about eight quarts and the tree’s not done. Raccoons come by at night and gorge themselves;  during the day, crows and other birds eat from the very highest branches.

mulberrysheetA bowl of mulberries.mulberrybowl

Three beautiful specimens. I add them right from the freezer to smoothies and cobblers and I’ll make a batch of jam, too. If I have enough, I’ll make a pie.

mulberry3

Mulberry Jam
(This recipe uses no pectin)

  • 2 1/2 cups mulberries, rinsed (the tiny green stems do not need to be removed)
  • Approximately one cup granulated sugar (I start with a very small amount of sugar and keep tasting. You can try agave, too.)
  • 3 tablespoons water
    Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat. Drop heat to medium-low and add jars and their lids. Simmer for 10 minutes to sterilize. Using tongs, remove jars and lids and place on a clean towel to let cool.
    In a medium, heavy-bottomed saucepan set over medium heat, combine mulberries, sugar, and water. Bring to a boil, boil for one minute, then drop to a simmer. Cook fruit, stirring occasionally, until foam subsides and mixture thickens slightly, about 7 minutes.
    Using a ladle, carefully transfer hot jam to sterilized jars. Wipe mouths of jars clean and screw on lids very tightly. Let cool at room temperature for at least 8 hours before using.