Angel Girl asks the question as she squeezes the back of my upper arm.
“Is that FAT?”
“Why is your arm so FAT right there?”
“Hey, T, come see Grandma’s FAT!”
That’s a call to action no big brother could resist. Angel Boy runs in, takes a hunk of the back of my upper arm and confirms his sister’s diagnosis.
“That’s a lot of fat, Grandma!”
I hear the unmistakeable sound of the original Angel Boy snickering in the other room. I bet it’s all deja vu for him as he must recall torturing me the same way.
Out of the mouths of babes, right?
I’m shaking my head; the apple definitely doesn’t fall far from the tree, not with these guys.
“Oh jeez, it’s SKIN, girl. Everyone has SKIN.”
She lifts her own perfectly formed and toned upper arm to show me. “I don’t. My arm doesn’t look like that.”
Mom chimes in, “Wait until you’re older. Come here and help me with breakfast. Let Grandma finish dressing!”
Her brother lifts his wiry arm (built just like his dad)… “Not me either, Grandma. See MY arm?”
I query the other grownups, “Where did she learn all this fat shaming? Sheesh, I thought nowadays children learned to be inclusive and accepting of all of our differences. What’s up with this?”
While I’m speaking, Angel Girl is following me around, squeezing my arms and laughing hysterically. I can’t help it, now I’m laughing, too–because, at the end of the day, it’s just funny. She’s always been hyperfocused and hypercritical of my each and every detail –from my hair to my shoes, and this is no different.
She’s not being rude, if that’s your conclusion–she would never intend to hurt my feelings – it’s simply a case of speaking her truth. I’m one thousand percent sure that she would naturally censor herself with her pre-K classmates, but I’m different, and it’s OK to practice life skills on me.
I’m her pet project, the Little Grandma, with apparently endless patience.
Both of the Angel Kids are fascinated by my diminutive size…
“My hands are almost as big as yours, Grandma!” (This is a continual hand-to-hand ritual measurement every time we see each other to gauge how much they’ve grown.) “Look, I can wear your shoes now!” “Can I have your Hello Kitty shirt, Grandma! It fits ME!” “Why are you so small?” “Stand still! I am LITERALLY almost as tall as you are!” And that’s true. I’m five feet and that 7.5 year-old truly is nearly my size.
That’s the time I tell them that the best presents come in small packages, but since that’s not their life experience, they shake their heads and laugh.
Thanks to Angel Girl’s eagle eyes, I have to silently agree that I need to focus more work on my triceps.
According to the Oxford English Dictionary, “rizz” is the word of the year for 2023.
I can’t imagine how I managed to get through almost this entire year and only learn about it NOW, but I’m not a teen and not on TikTok, which I believe is where it originally came from.
“Rizz is a colloquial word, defined as style, charm, or attractiveness; the ability to attract a romantic partner” according to the Oxford University Press, to flirt with a degree of charm, to “rizz up”.
As for the word’s etymology, OUP says it’s believed to have been taken from the middle of “charisma,” much like “fridge” derives from refrigerator.
I reckon it’s akin to having “game” in the old days; chatty repartee with a certain amount of flirtatious banter, at least that’s how I’d describe it.
You either have it–or you don’t, it’s that simple.
Think of Joey in Friends, when “How you doin” is ALL he needed to say…total rizz!
My Monday involves waiting for the plumber to arrive. The new hot water heater has been delivered in a great big box I’ll save for the Angel Kids.
A neighbor came by yesterday and turned off the hot water heater so it’d stop leaking and I realized how much we take for granted things like readily available hot water at our fingertips. It’s something to be grateful for but we don’t normally think about it until we no longer have that luxury.
I had to move everything away from that area in the garage to make it accessible so I took the opportunity to clean and purge which hadn’t been done in a long time, and that felt like an important accomplishment.
Waiting, I started to research other meanings for specific life events. It’s interesting to look deeper to see what it could symbolize in the fourth dimension, out of time and space, on a spiritual level.
Since water represents the flow of emotions, plumbing issues in a home (or a leaky radiator in a car) might signal emotional matters.
Water leaks in our homes can often be perceived as nothing more than an inconvenience or a financial burden, but in some cultures water leaks are seen to have spiritual meaning. They may represent the release of pent up emotions within your home, or even a greater life transition occurring.
On a brighter side, water has long been seen as a sign of luck and wealth. In Feng Shui, water can also symbolize prosperity and career success, and water leaking into your house could be interpreted as an abundance of good fortune coming your way.
That makes me feel slightly better!
Many spiritual practitioners believe it’s a sign to clear out negative or stagnant energy in their homes or lives. Spiritually cleanse through meditation, cleaning, and smudging.
Once you’ve repaired the issue and taken steps to prevent future leaks, you can begin to restore balance and harmony in your home.
burn incense or candles
play calming/binaural beats/528Hz music
saltwater cleanse
burn sage or palo santo
When the plumber leaves, I think I’ll sage the new water heater as I restore everything I had to move out of the way so they could work in the garage–and be thankful for a nice, long, hot shower.
Like the lyrics from that Heart song… “These dreams in the mist Darkness on the edge, shadows where I stand I search for the time on a watch with no hands”
I experienced an incredibly unsettling dream last night that I just can’t shake, one of those dreams that some other protective part of your brain thankfully forces you to wake up from; a heart pounding, traumatizing, scary dream that you can’t quite figure out and you wish you could forget, but some of the details and the feelings of dread and fear remain firmly etched.
In this dream, I had driven to the airport, not to immediately travel anywhere, but for another reason, although I don’t know what that was.
I wasn’t alone–one of my first-born fur children was with me, Sabrina Sue, my beloved Border Collie. (She died when Angel Boy was still a toddler). I parked on the street, close to the airport, because I planned to walk there. I couldn’t explain why Sab was there and alive when she’s been gone for decades, but our bond was strong and it was like old times when that beautiful black and white, bright-eyed little girl was with me, as she always was.
Here’s where it gets weird. I left Sabrina in the car, which I had NEVER EVER done when she was alive, except for a couple of times when I quickly ran into the store or the post office, and only when it was cold outside, so she would be in no danger of becoming overheated.
I finished whatever business I had in the airport and walked back to where I parked my car. When I was about a block away, to my surprise, Sabrina was sitting on the sidewalk, ears up, looking at me. I crouched down low and like I always had done, stretched out my arms and said, “Come, girl!” She ran at full speed, nearly knocking me over, and we proceeded to where I parked.
But the car was gone. It had disappeared, gone, not where it should have been.
My car had been stolen, I surmised, but whoever did it must have opened the back and let Sabrina out, which wasn’t easy, as she was an extremely protective Border. I think she was the best trained of all my kids, and stay was so ingrained in her memory that she could wait forever until I gave the signal that released her to come to me.
My memory is fuzzy about how we got home, but I remember using my scarf as a leash.
As I reflect about the dream, after my heart rate subsided and I was no longer in panic mode, I had a faint recollection that I went there to purchase a ticket to Hawaii, but I’ve lost the rest of that mindthread.
When we got home, I called the police and reported my stolen vehicle.I don’t remember having a cell phone, so I had to wait for a landline.
In my dream state, I was overcome with an overwhelming feeling of shame and anxiety. I remember saying to the police, “But how will I get anywhere? I need my car.”
That’s when I woke up, saturated in self-hatred and shame for whatever I had done to set the wheels in motion to make my car available to be stolen. I must have done something wrong and that’s an intense stressful trigger for me. I always take the blame, it’s always my fault, somehow.
I think I woke up before there was any clear resolution, but I have a fleeting thought that my car WAS found and returned and that it wasn’t damaged, but I don’t recall any details about who stole it, or why.
Of course I researched dream interpretations and learned that dreaming of your car being stolen has many different meanings and scenarios. It could reflect something you feel is out of your control. You shouldn’t ignore a dream in which you lose your car because it shows your deepest fears and hopes. This dream could be the consequence of a number of unacknowledged insecurities that have surfaced in your subconscious and are causing you fear. To overcome your anxieties, you must first recognize them.
Along with my subconscious mind freaking out, here in SoCal we’re being blasted with multiple energetic events, solar flares, and strong Santa Ana weather with very low humidity. There have been multiple structure fires around here today, and a wildfire up the coast.
Did you know about space weather? That’s new to me. Check it out. It’s NOAA’s (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) Space Weather Prediction Center.
Sun activity has jumped to high over the past day, thanks to an M5.4 flare blasted out by sunspot region AR3511. The blast happened late in the day yesterday.
What damage could a solar flare do?
Heliophysicists and other scientists studying space weather warn that flares and related solar outbursts can indeed interfere with modern life by damaging power grids, as well as by increasing radiation exposures for occupants of space habitats and high-altitude aircraft.
Solar storms also affect the circadian rhythm in humans, reducing the production of melatonin and increasing levels of the stress hormone cortisol, effects that are more pronounced in patients with coronary heart disease.
During solar flares, people may feel disconnected or low while others of us may feel imbalanced or emotionally sensitive. This volatile energy can be used to connect with the higher self or achieve spiritual connectedness through meditation and yoga.
My solution? Spend the entire day in the garden.There’s always a project or two that needs attention and love. In Southern California, autumn/winter is a good time to prepare the garden to plant natives so they can benefit from the upcoming rainy season. Fingers crossed that we’ll get some decent rain this year.
At the end of the day, this dream is still sort of haunting me. As much as I loved being reunited with my sweet Sabrina, the idea of my car being stolen triggers every one of my vulnerable abandonment issues. I’ve never had a dream like that before and it’s going to take a while to recover from the intensity of the feelings it generated.
And if you read this far, the calamity that befell me wasn’t a stolen car, but just now when I returned from a walk, the garage was flooded from a very leaky and failing water heater. I don’t know how it happened so fast, but it did. I put a bucket under the drippy part, wiped up the floor, and now I need to find a plumber. Did my dream foretell impending doom? Maybe so…
Let her be For her heart is filled with stardust Her soul is as wild and free As the wind
Have you ever witnessed something so exquisitely beautiful it almost made you cry?
I saw more dolphins yesterday! I watched three of them surf the big waves until they were too far away to see without binocs, and then I exhaled a big sigh. It was only then that I realized that I had been holding my breath.
How IwishIwishIwish I was a mermaid.
From Pinterest
A Little Poem written by Athey Thompson Art unknown from Pinterest
I’m always excited when a new vegan eatery opens up near me. I don’t often eat out, so it’s a real treat.
I’ve visited Veggie Grill at least a dozen times. It’s a fast-casual vegan restaurant chain that operates in California, Oregon, Washington, Illinois, Massachusetts, and New York.
I’ve always been happy with my menu choices at VG. I love their soups and incredible (vegan, of course) Caesar salad. It’s described as romaine and tender kale tossed with Caesar dressing, mushroom crisps, ciabatta croutons, capers, almond Parmesan, and hemp hearts.
It’s consistently fresh and delicious. When I bring home what I can’t finish at the time, it holds up well.
ThePlot Express. sister to the Plot Restaurant in Oceanside (haven’t been there), opened a while ago with positive online reviews, so I looked forward to giving it a try.
The first time I had the Superior Crunch Wrap with faux chorizo. I’m not usually a fan of meat replicas, but this was crunchy and yummy, albeit a bit heavy on the sodium for my taste buds.
The next time I tried The Plot Express, I thought I’d order their version of a Caesar salad for a real comparison with The Veggie Grill. The menu describes it as romaine lettuce, pickled onions, house parmesan, lemon preserves, croutons, and zesty Caesar dressing with Plot faux chicken bites.
It was a disappointment in every way. The lettuce was old, mostly full of white romaine ribs, not many leafy greens, and to make it even worse, I bit into the giant stem end of the romaine. The entire salad was drenched in so much dressing that it was barely edible with far too many croutons. The faux chicken bites were OK, but not necessary. They didn’t seem to have been freshly prepared, although I don’t really know for sure.
We were served in the outside patio. I brought the salad inside to show them the romaine stem end and the giant white ribs, but only received a lukewarm and not satisfying response.
Here’s a photo of the salad where you can see the stem end and inedible romaine ribs. It doesn’t look very appealing but I did appreciate the compostable plates and forks.
The other comparison was in their version of french fries. I LOVE french fries, but rarely indulge myself because I don’t often eat fried foods OR potatoes, so it’s a real treat when I discover great ones.
The Plot Express only offers cheesy (vegan) truffle fries. I know truffle anything is trendy right now, but I don’t like it, never have. I desire a pure, unadulterated fry that’s crispy on the outside and comfortingly squidgy on the inside, served piping hot. A friend ordered it and I searched for a fry that wasn’t completely saturated in the sauce, but it wasn’t yummy enough to make me want another bite.
Veggie Grill’s Golden fries are everything one would hope for in a fry and I’ve never been let down. I’ve also tried their Sweet Potato fries which are equally yummy.
Here’s my overall independent and non-biased review of these two vegan “fast casual” restaurants.
Veggie Grill is consistently fresh, tasty, and delightful. I WILL always be happy to eat there.
The Plot Express is more expensive and not up to my standards. Expensive, soggy old lettuce gets a failing grade from me. Although I like the location in Carlsbad, I won’t return. It was not a great experience.
To sum it up, for me, Veggie Grill is a consistent winner, not so much for The Plot Express. Thanks to a comment by Kevin from https://adifferentkitchen.org/, I’ll update the review to clarify that VG is also more affordable. Here’s their menu: https://veggiegrill.com/menu/
DISCLAIMER I received no payment or other compensation for this review. I paid full retail price for my food. I have no affiliation or relationship with either restaurant. My opinion is simply my opinion.
Coyotes were in the garden last night! I was awakened at midnight by at least two extremely conversational coyotes; yipping and howling for a few minutes. I went back to sleep with a smile on my face.
This morning I went on a beach walk (did NOT almost get run over by a crazy driver this time) and was lucky enough to see three dolphins! I’m sorry the photos aren’t great, but I only had my phone.
Here they are in the middle of the photo, to the right of the little boat. They’re moving south.
In this photo, the dolphins are directly to the left of the paddleboarders, who are actually watching them swim by.
Dolphins represent a bond between mankind and Mother Nature, in part due to their emotional connection with humans while they remain firmly part of the animal kingdom. Dolphins are representative of both the Air and Water elements as they are warm-blooded, air-breathing mammals, yet they reside in the depths of the ocean.
For me, hearing coyotes last night and seeing dolphins this morning are two positive indicators that December is starting out to be an amazing way to end 2023!
I liked It’s a Wonderful Life until I got old enough to figure out that James Stewart’s character stood on the bridge contemplating suicide. Somehow that didn’t seem very happy to me and I didn’t think it was the type of conversation we wanted to have with the Angel Kids.
If you watch Miracle on 34th Street, I recommend the original 1940s black and white version with Natalie Wood.
When everyone was here for Thanksgiving, our goal was to find non-animated films with real people. We chose National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation with Chevy Chase and my absolute all-time favorite, Elf.
My son, DIL, and I couldn’t stop laughing during National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Neither one of us had seen it since it was originally released. A lot of the jokes were lost on the kids (Angel Girl fell asleep right away), and except for one slightly inappropriate part with a semi-nude female, it was slapstick humor at its finest, perfect for a precocious 7.5 year old.
The next evening we watched Elf. I always resonate with Buddy’s everlasting childlike joy and joie de vivre. He’s innocent and trusting, and the overarching message is that love wins every single time. Again, Angel Girl fell asleep immediately, so we’ll have to make it a family tradition and watch it again when she can stay awake.
My two most favorite lines in Elf are “Santa! I know him!” and “So…good news. I saw a dog today.” I say both of those lines year-round, and laugh to myself every single time.
New to me, but released in 2016, is A Nutcracker Christmas. It combines a love story and ballet, what could be better? Well acted and danced, it is a JOY to watch.
I only recently learned how deep was the life of love between former President Jimmy Carter and Rosalynn, and so profound that his mother was the nurse that assisted in delivering Rosalynn. This was an inevitable destiny.
Said President Carter, “Rosalynn was my equal partner in everything I ever accomplished. She gave me wise guidance and encouragement when I needed it. As long as Rosalynn was in the world, I always knew somebody loved and supported me.”
In October 2019, Jimmy Carter and his wife, Rosalynn, became the longest-married presidential couple in American history, and this July marked their 77th—and final—wedding anniversary together. Rosalynn died on November 19, 2023, at age 96.
The hometown sweethearts’ seven-decade relationship saw them travel from their rural roots to the highest office in the land and beyond. Even in their final months together, as Jimmy entered hospice care in February 2023 and Rosalynn eventually joined him, the pair was there to support each another.
Jimmy and Rosalynn came from Plains, Georgia, a town of 600 people. Born in 1924—the first president to be born in a hospital—James Earl “Jimmy” Carter Jr. was the eldest of James and Bessie “Lillian” Carter’s four children. James was a successful local businessman and Lillian was a nurse.
Edgar and Allie Smith were neighbors of the Carters, and in the summer of 1927, Lillian helped deliver their first child, Eleanor Rosalynn. Jimmy, then a three-year-old, and newborn Rosalynn met just a couple days later for the first time.
Although Rosalynn had known Jimmy all her life, it wasn’t until 1945 that romance blossomed. She was a freshman at Georgia Southwestern College. Jimmy, following stints at that same school and the Georgia Institute of Technology, was entering his final year at Annapolis.
When Jimmy returned home that summer, Jimmy spotted his sister and Rosalynn walking down the street and impulsively asked her to the movies, after which the two shared their first kiss. Jimmy was immediately smitten after their first date, and told his mother that he had met his future wife.
The whirlwind courtship continued when they both returned to school, and that winter, Jimmy proposed. Initially concerned about how fast the relationship was moving and wishing to finish college first, Rosalynn said no. But Jimmy persisted, and when Rosalynn visited Annapolis that spring, they became engaged. The couple married on July 7, 1946, just weeks after Jimmy’s graduation.
In 1962, he won a seat in the Georgia State Senate, and subsequently became governor in 1970s. Rosalynn campaigned tirelessly on her husband’s behalf. Jimmy’s victory saw her take on a new role as Georgia’s first lady, where she began working on causes she championed for the rest of her life, including mental health. Rosalynn became first lady when Jimmy Carter became president in 1976, Rosalynn was the first presidential spouse to have her own office in the East Wing. She sat in on Cabinet meetings, advised on staff and personnel moves, served as an envoy on overseas trips, and joined former first ladies in the unsuccessful effort to pass the Equal Rights Amendment. So closely aligned were the couple that Jimmy referred to Rosalynn, who he’d nicknamed Rosa, as a “perfect extension of himself.”
After President Carter lost re-election in 1980, they moved back to Georgia and continued farming peanuts, as well as supporting global humanitarian efforts, through both the Carter Center and their work with Habitat for Humanity, through which they built more than 4,000 homes around the world. In 2002, Jimmy was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for his decades of work supporting democracy and human rights.
In all their years together, the couple also had time to prepare for their eventual final goodbye. Back when Jimmy was being treated for cancer, they created a fitting plan: Both of them will be buried under a willow tree on the grounds of their house in Plains, where their stories began.
They have spent their final months together at home. If ever two people are an inspiring example of the enduring love of true life partners, it’s Rosalynn and Jimmy Carter.
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 