Update: A kind reader commented and asked if this was actually a Western Bluebird (Sialia mexicana) and after some research, I’m convinced he’s correct! I automatically assumed it was the same scrub jay family that returns every year, but this is a much smaller bird.
I might rewrite this entire post to reflect the correction, but for now, as you’re reading, just replace Scrub Jay with Western Bluebird and it all works out.
My blueblue California Scrub Jay family has returned to build a nest in the tree house. While so much is WRONG in this world right now, the fact that these birds reappeared is heartwarming.
While they don’t use the same nesting material year after year, jays often return to the same location, referred to as site loyalty. They are very attached to their home ranges, and pairs often stay together for multiple years, leading them to build new nests in familiar spots within that territory.
How lucky am I that these guys feel safe here at Casa de Enchanted Seashells!
Welcome home!
I can’t resist a connection to Leon Russell. Although it’s not at all about blue birds, his song, Bluebird, is musical perfection. Sadly, I don’t think there’s a video of a live performance. https://youtu.be/Zhaq-wWykZU?si=6fegLI90ZUqI-N5q
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
William Shakespeare
After last night’s horrific anti-Semitic massacre at Bondi Beach in Australia during a Hanukkah celebration and the violence at Brown University in Rhode Island, at least right now, this world we inhabit is not a warm and loving place.
I spent quite a bit of time in Providence while DIL was there getting her doctorate and Angel Boy was at Yale doing the same thing. I walked around the campus and the neighborhood, even Governor Drive where there was a report of another incident which proved to be false.
When AB endured his serious medical scare, he was at the same Rhode Island hospital where the shooting victims were taken because it’s the closest trauma center. These poor kids were simply taking their mid-term exams when they were attacked.
It looks like they have a suspect in custody, but the damage is done. I read that at least two of the students had already witnessed other school shootings.
What a hellish world this is.
I don’t know what everyone else will be doing on this day that really doesn’t seem to celebrate anything but a toxic and heartless dominance over indigenous peoples, but in my little world, except for family, there isn’t a whole lot to be grateful for. This is a Thanksgiving mainly of fear for the future, an unsettling feeling that we don’t know when the other shoe will drop and this country will erupt in absolute and total chaos.
But that’s just me…
“Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.” Joy Harjo
While we’re in the midst of preparations to enjoy a feast with friends and family tomorrow, I hope we don’t forget to honor, and with gratitude, recognize the Indigenous Peoples.
For many Native Americans, Thanksgiving is a day of mourning and protest because it commemorates the arrival of settlers and the oppression and genocide that followed.
“Will you teach your children what we have taught our children? That the earth is our mother? What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth.” Chief Seattle
“When you know who you are when your mission is clear, and you burn with the inner fire of unbreakable will; no cold can touch your heart; no deluge can dampen your purpose. You know that you are alive.” – Chief Seattle, Suquamish/Duwamish (1786-1866)
Chief Seattle (more correctly known as Seathl) was a Suquamish and Duwamish chief. A leading figure among his people, he pursued a path of accommodation to white settlers, but I bet he regretted it as soon as he realized what it really meant to his people.
Photo of people and tents and quote credit to Chief Seattle and Native Red Cloud Maȟpíya Lúta~Hińhan Wakangli. Photo credit of Chief Seattle from Wiki
…they opened their wings
softly and stepped
over every dark thing.
Mary Oliver
Sitting at the top of a tree near the lagoon, this lone egret seems deep in thought and as bewildered as I am about the time change; like why is it almost dark at 5pm?
Same, egret, same.
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.
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 