I’m not feeling too happy this Halloween, there’s not much joy in the air as this bizarre regime continues to decimate the programs that support the needy, kidnap people off the street with zero due process, and reveal an absolute lack of any humanity.
BUT I’ll be dressed as a Hello Kitty witch this year, so all is not entirely lost…
Happy Halloween!
It’s a bird I’ve never before seen and I’m sooo happy he chose to visit the gardens at Casa de Enchanted Seashells!
The Black-headed Grosbeak is a migratory bird, with nesting grounds from southwestern British Columbia through the western half of the United States and into central Mexico.
I think this is a male; black head, black wings and tail with prominent white patches. Its breast is dark to tawny orange in color, more like the color of cinnamon.
The black-headed grosbeak eats pine and other seeds, berries, insects, spiders, and fruit. I didn’t hear him sing, however, his voice is a rich warble similar to that of an American robin, but more fluent, faster, softer, sweeter, and mellow with rising and falling passages that make the song much longer than the robin’s. The note is a sharp ik or eek. Both the male and female sing, but have different songs.
Its symbolism includes a message to live in harmony with yourself. to forgive yourself, trust your instincts, meditate more, and be kinder to yourself. When this bird flies into your life, it also prompts you to practice contentment. Alternatively, a Grosbeak meaning suggest being supportive of those around you who are struggling.
What an amazing garden visitor!
This was the largest single day protest in US history. We showed up to rally against the authoritarian policies of that orange POS and alleged corruption in his administration. We showed up because that’s what this country is all about.
We are anti-fascists. Anti-fascism is a political movement in opposition to fascist ideologies, groups, and individuals. It began in European countries in the 1920s.
Have you witnessed any of the ICE kidnappings? I haven’t personally, but I have seen videos of some in a nearby town. It’s absolutely disgusting.
It’s estimated that 10,000 people showed up to protest against the fascist regime in my very own little beachy town and a conservative estimate of 50,000 in San Diego. New York had 350,000 show up and there were 100,000 in Chicago and Boston.
Wherever you live, I hope you were able to participate. We’re the true patriots, we’re the ones who respect the Constitution and Bill of Rights and equality for all.
Here’s the confirmed count: more than 8.1 million true defenders of democracy showed up to be seen and heard.
The Bill of Rights is CLEAR, this regime is in violation of so many of our basic rights:
First Amendment
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.
Fourth Amendment
The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.
This was one of my favorite signs:
In addition to all the senior citizens and veterans who have consistently shown up to support freedom, this time there were a lot more young people, and that’s awesome.
The message is powerful…REMOVE THE ORANGE POS and RELEASE THE EPSTEIN FILES!
Those of us in Southern California had another total bizarre shitshow to deal with. The sofa loving Vice President decided to stage dangerous war games by firing live rounds OVER our major freeway and OVER homes in a repugnant self glorifying display of power at Camp Pendleton. For safety, the California Highway Patrol had to shut down Interstate 5 for most of the day to feed the ego of a sociopathic lunatic. This narcissistic exhibition was touted as a celebration for the Marine Corps birthday–however, the MC birthday is on November 10, so it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out he chose THIS day to attempt to disrupt our peaceful protests and cause trouble. And since the rethugs have shut down the government, all of those soldiers from Camp Pendleton were working without a paycheck.
Also in California, we have an important item on the November ballot; Proposition 50, which authorizes temporary changes to congressional district maps in response to Texas’ partisan redistricting. I already voted a resounding YES and I hope it passes. I like the way our Governor Newsom responds to the lunacy in Washington and look forward to voting for him in the next presidential election.
If you need any more evidence that we need to remove that demented, evil orange POS, check out his response to today’s rally for democracy:
Today, October 13, 2025, is known as Columbus Day. Some states have proposed legislation to legally replace it with Indigenous Peoples’ Day, which is the only right action to take.
I don’t acknowledge Columbus Day because it’s more of the same; entitled males making unilateral decisions without regard for anything but their own selfishness.
Columbus Day has since come under fire as a celebration of a man whose arrival in the Americas heralded the oppression of another group of people: Native Americans.
Indigenous Peoples’ Day honors the truth about the American soil on which we live. It serves as a counter-celebration to Columbus Day by recognizing the perseverance and contributions of Indigenous people across the United States.
Even the Angel Kids know what this day really is all about, and good for my son/DIL talking TRUTH to the next generation.
In the midst of this dystopian hellscape in which we’re enmired, something beautiful happened in my little beachy town, a glimmer of hope that humanity is not completely dead.
A hundred or so of our neighbors showed up to celebrate the retirement of everyone’s favorite mail carrier.
When news spread throughout his neighborhood routes that our special and beloved mailman was retiring after forty-two years, a plan was formed to host a potluck in his honor at our local park.
This guy has been more than someone who simply delivers our mail; he’s become one of the family. There are few people who have an inner light that shines brightly. We all have been touched by his many kindnesses and we wanted to return the love, not that we haven’t gifted him with things over the years, but this needed to be a spectacular celebration, a send-off he’d remember.
Families from all of his routes showed up with food, decorations, and gifts. People we’ve said hi to for decades now had a name, and we shared stories about our personal experiences; especially his sweet tooth!
Since I’m known to be extra, I contacted our mayor and asked him if he could possibly create some sort of formal commendation or award to present to this exemplary human. He liked the idea which had actually never been done in the history of our city, and asked me to write a little speech for him, which I did. He took it a step further and created Mailman Steve Day and presented him with a framed award.
It was an old-fashioned community gathering, enjoying a beautiful SoCal evening AND happily for me, a little Leon Russell chat.
I yelled out to a neighbor, “Hey, Leon!” because he has long white hair and a beard, so of course I always refer to him as “Leon”, and another neighbor said, “Why do you call him Leon? That’s Jim.” and I told him it’s because he looks like Leon Russell. His response was, “How do you know about Leon Russell? Do you know Mad Dogs and Englishmen?” I showed him the playlist on my phone and told him to pick a favorite Leon Russell song and he chose two of my personal faves, “Girl From The North Country” and “Cry Me a River”.
Someone else requested “Tight Rope” and “A Song For You” and as a crowd gathered, we had a proper singalong. These guys knew every word and we all marveled at the musical genius of the one and only Master of Space and Time. #goodtimes
Best of all for me is that I’m still referred to as “Jason’s mom” even after all these years. It was so heartwarming to have several forty-year-olds (!) fondly remembering the backyard skate ramp and shared lovely memories about my original angel boy. I am so very proud to be Jason’s mom.
This happy community gathering to honor our mailman shows me that there IS hope for our country, even if it’s hanging on by a thread.
P.S. Next Saturday, October 18, is another day to protest the regime, another NO KINGS DAY, and I’ll be on the frontlines to again gather with my neighbors, this time to protect free speech and save America.
Do you know Bad Bunny?
Singer and record producer Bad Bunny has been chosen to perform at the Super Bowl LX halftime show.
A lot of absolute and total subhuman idiots including that orange POS don’t seem to comprehend that Bad Bunny was born in Puerto Rico and that Puerto Rico is an unincorporated United States territory. To clarify, Puerto Ricans are United States citizens.
The most streamed artist in the world, Bad Bunny’s real name is Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio. He was born in Puerto Rico and chose the stage name Bad Bunny after a social media post of him as a child, wearing a bunny suit and a grumpy expression, gained popularity and led him to create a Twitter account with that name.
His mom is a retired teacher and his dad was a truck driver, about as American as you can get.
This choice for the Super Bowl LX halftime show has been met with a furious backlash from MAGA influencers who’ve complained that he “doesn’t sing in English” and that he has been critical of Donald Trump, something I admire him for doing.
This manufactured outrage and hostility towards Bad Bunny is not rooted in his music, but in his message, and his color.
It’s absolutely disgusting to realize how many racist people there are in this country and how they feel it’s now OK to be vocal about it. Really, really, disgusting.
In a weird kind of way, their faux outrage has catapulted Bad Bunny to the forefront of everyone’s mind; it’s priceless publicity!
Maybe I didn’t really know who he was before, but now that I do, he’ll be added to my playlist. Maybe not at the top because my heart still belongs to Leon Russell, but there’s room for a Bad Bunny song or two; some Latin urban, reggaeton, and Latin trap.
By choosing Bad Bunny, the NFL not only secures a global superstar, but also aligns itself with a narrative of inclusion and representation. I didn’t think anybody can top Prince’s electric performance in 2007, but I support the NFL’s choice.
Bad Bunny says, “Sin mucha labia, sin mucha cotorra. Cuando estoy contigo dejo que la vibra corra,” which translates to “Without much fluff, without much chatter. When I’m with you I let the vibe flow”.
I love Bad Bunny. I hope you will. too!
Save Animals, Save the Planet
This year marks the 100th anniversary of this global celebration of animals.
For a century, people have come together to show kindness, compassion, and care for the creatures we share our planet with. The mission of World Animal Day is to raise the status of animals in order to improve welfare standards around the globe.
World Animal Day started in 1925 when German writer and activist Heinrich Zimmermann organized the first event in Berlin on March 24. The date was officially moved to October 4, the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi, in 1931, becoming an international celebration of animal welfare.
This seems like a perfect day to honor the life and legacy of Jane Goodall, who died this week of natural causes. We can aspire to follow in her footsteps and speak out for those who cannot speak for themselves.
“You cannot get through a single day without having an impact on the world around you. What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make.” Jane Goodall
Jane Goodall was an English primatologist and anthropologist. Regarded as a pioneer in primate ethology, she was best known for more than six decades of field research on the social and family life of wild chimpanzees at Gombe Stream National Park in Tanzania.
“The least I can do is speak out for those who cannot speak for themselves.” Jane Goodall
Animals are our teachers. They show us how to live in harmony with the rhythms of nature, how to trust our instincts, and how to be fully present in each moment.
“The greatest danger to our future is apathy.” Jane Goodall
Falling (get it?) on the same day is the autumnal equinox and the Jewish New Year.
Rosh Hashanah is a Jewish holiday that commemorates the birthday of the universe, year 5786, and is the beginning of the High Holy Days.
Fall weather in SoCal usually brings our hottest Santa Ana winds and high temperatures, but yesterday was a drizzly, showery day and we were all so grateful for it because we hadn’t had any rain in months.
Today, the first day of autumn, is still a bit gloomy, but it’s heating up again. The leaves are turning yellow so we know change is on the way.
Mythically, the autumnal equinox relates to the story of Persephone and marks the moment the goddess descends into the underworld to rejoin her husband, Hades.
It’s a good day to write down what we want to release alongside what we want to attract. It’s all about balance.
Happy New Year and Happy Autumn!
L’shanah tovah! Remember to eat apples dipped in honey and hope for an end to war and long lasting peace.
I don’t approve of using animals in war or police work. I think it’s cruel to send dogs and horses in harm’s way, especially since these sentient beings don’t have the ability to consent — decision-making capacity –and are merely used as expendable, cheap fodder. In my opinion, that’s clearly abusive.
However, the rescue dogs who searched for victims of the 9/11 attacks saved many lives and then took on the task of providing therapy to survivors.
On September 11, 2001, when the towers fell and the sky turned to ash, more than 300 search and rescue dogs stepped into hell on earth. They didn’t hesitate. They didn’t flinch. They climbed through fire and steel, through suffocating debris and deafening silence, searching for life with every breath, every pawstep, every heartbeat.
They entered with pure hearts and fearless resolve—no armor, no agenda, just the unshakable instinct to help. They worked until their pads split, until the air burned their lungs, until their handlers broke down and hope ran dry. And still, they kept going. Because that’s what heroes do.
When the searching stopped, the therapy dogs arrived. Quiet. Steady. Healing. They didn’t need words. They curled beside the broken, leaned into the grief, and reminded shattered humans that love hadn’t died in the dust.
These beautiful dogs didn’t just serve. They bore the weight of our sorrow. They carried our hope. They were the silent saints of Ground Zero—unspoken, unshaken, unforgettable.
We don’t just remember them. We thank them. For their courage. For their comfort. For showing us, in our darkest hours, what selfless devotion truly looks like.
To the hero dogs of 9/11: your legacy lives on in every rescue, every comfort, every life saved because you showed up when it mattered most. Curated from houndsinpounds.org
In the corner of the garden close to the back gate, I found a wing that belonged to a Monarch butterfly. Poor tattered little one, colors dull and listless; I carefully picked her up to bring inside the house to spend eternity resting in a pretty box of similar treasures.
When I went back outside to finish a yard clean-up project, I had a visitor — this magnificent Monarch who stayed still long enough to spread her wings for a picture, vibrant and alive:
It’s a blueblue sky circle of life day here in SoCal.
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 