Was that a wild animal or what?

Last night I totally freaked out. I was watching my new obsession, Aussie Gold Hunters, and I heard a noise. My heart started to pound…

It sounded like there was some kind of creature in the house–in the room where I was on the sofa watching TV.

I muted the sound and looked around to try and figure out if it was coming from under the sofa, under the table, or near the patio doors.

It was a regular sound, kind of like scratching, scrabbling or fumbling, almost as if something was caught or stuck.

I got out a powerful little flashlight and looked everywhere. Then I thought that whatever it could be was trapped behind the entertainment center but there’s no way I can see behind it or move it.

After spending quite a while searching,I was pretty super stressed out. What to do? I straightened up the kitchen, put away in the refrigerator a half bottle of cayenne kombucha that I hadn’t finished, and went to bed, making sure my bedroom door was closed tight just in case IT tried to find me while I was asleep.

The first thing I did this morning was to check and see if I still heard the noises.

Nope.

I made my coffee and while it was brewing, I took out that unfinished bottle of kombucha, had a few sips, put the cap back on, and set it on the tile counter. I went to my bedroom to unplug my computer and bring it out so I could read emails and learn about what fresh hell the Supreme Court was doing while I was drinking the fresh French roast.

I HEARD THE NOISES AGAIN!

“Scritch, scritch, scritch…”

Now it seemed to be coming from the direction of the tile counter where I had placed the kombucha. I put my ear near the cap and heard the very same sounds that had alarmed me last night.

OMG. Apparently, my “wild animal” was merely the bacteria-friendly fermented carbonation trapped in the bottle of kombucha.

Did you know this? When making kombucha, bubbles are created during bottling (also called second fermentation). At room temperature, the yeast eat the sugar and create carbon dioxide (CO2). … This is how kombucha becomes fizzy! If your kombucha sprays out of the bottle as soon as you open it, it’s because there is too much pressure inside.

I quite honestly got weirded out over NOTHING. I really am crazy, but very glad to know that no critter was trapped in my house. Whew!

A Day in the Life: A Naked Lady and a Wandering White Egret

Or how I became the spirit human to a wandering white egret. Do you have a spirit animal? I’m sure we all do, but today I became a bird’s spirit human. At least that’s the story I told myself.

(I’ll not bury the lede and confess that I’m NOT the naked lady, just in case you were curious.)

I don’t know if it’s because of the lingering full moon energy coupled with another Santa Ana heatwave, but this was a strange and interesting Sunday.

I’ve been able to increase my mileage according to the doc’s plan, as long as my foot doesn’t hurt. It can be bit sore, but if I start limping, that’s my cue to give him a call. So far, so good.

On today’s walk, I got a late start and didn’t want to walk to the beach because that’s about 7 or 8 miles round trip, much more than the five miles he approved.

I walked up and around the lagoon. On the way back, I saw one police car and then two and when I saw the third one, my interest was piqued and I decided to follow it. They seemed to all be parked on a street that leads to a lagoon beach.

I stopped and asked a neighbor what was going on and he said he heard there was a naked woman wandering around the area. I then walked up to a police officer and asked him to corroborate what I heard, and he did. I exhorted (strongly encouraged) him to be kind to her since the police dog was there too, and it probably was some sort of mental health issue, not a “let’s unleash the hounds of hell” issue.

By the way, when did cops start dressing like urban warfare combat fighters? The ones I saw today were dressed in FULL ON body armor, in FULL ON FIGHT MODE to what was probably either a domestic or a mental health situation. They were incredibly intimidating looking for a little beach town, way too hard core.

I decided to move on and continue walking out of respect for whomever it was and whatever was going on. Sometimes I hang around to document possible police misconduct, but there were other people gathering, so I felt it was okay to leave.

After walking for another block or so, this is what I saw.

Yup, a beautiful white egret simply standing as still as a statue. S/he took a couple of steps…do you have any idea how SLOWLY egrets walk? It’s like doing a mindful walking meditation with Thich Nhat Hanh, something I’m not at all good at, ‘cos I’m not patient. At all.

But this time, I slowed down to enjoy the moment. S/he walked across the street SO S L O W L Y, turned his/her head and seemed to beckon me to follow, so I did. I stayed a couple feet back and every so often, s/he would turn to look at me and continue.

When it seemed as if (I’ll just call it a female, cos that’s the vibe I got) she wanted to cross a street that’s a bit busier, I went out in the street to warn traffic and to escort her safely. A mom and her two kids joined me and we all followed this queenly white egret up the street. Cars stopped to watch and it was so joyous and so delightful to participate in the Queen Egret Parade. The mom and kids went back home but I continued on our journey together to shepherd this magnificent bird.

I felt as if she was a bit timid, a bit unsure about where she was, and needed me. When we came to a clearing with a field and tall trees, I decided it was time for her to fly. I raised both of my arms outstretched like wings and silently communicated to her that it wasn’t safe on these streets and she needed to fly.

And she did. I watched her circle the area and land in a tall eucalyptus tree. Another egret flew by and my hope is that they all ended up back at the lagoon, safe and sound.

Honestly, I feel like in that moment, I became the spirit human to this pure white egret wanderer.

I don’t have any new information about the naked woman, and I’ll update if I hear anything.

It’s only 11 a.m. and I’ve already had a magical day. It’s time to put a clothes in the washing machine and check the video to see if my coyote or bobcat came to visit. For me, that would be the icing on the cake.

Check out how S L O W L Y she walks.

Gratitude Scavenger Hunt

I like this idea and plan to do it with the Angels (also Mom and Dad) ‘cos we LOVE a good scavenger hunt and a little gratitude guidance is always appreciated.

I bet it won’t take long before someone hands me a seashell or a rock. I’m so easy!

Or T will say something like, “It’s me! I make you happy, right Grandma?”

Oh yes, my little friend. Always.

May be an image of text that says 'Gratitude Scavenger Hunt 1. Find something that makes you happy. 2. Something to give someone else to make them smile. 3. Find one thing that you love to smell. 4.Find one thing you enjoy looking at. 5. Find something that's your favorite color. 6. Find something you are thankful for in nature. 7. Find something that you can use to make a gift for someone. 8. Find something that is useful for you.'

To Capture the Sparkle…and FAIL

During my recent period of enforced lack of strenuous physical activity, I tried to solve one of my major dilemmas; how to take a photo that successfully captures the sparkle of a rhinestone or a diamond or glitter. It’s so HARD!

Every photo I had previously taken seemed flat and lifeless. My research revealed it has a lot to do with aperture and lighting so I set up a little impromptu photo shoot with the correct lighting and my Canon for some experimentation.

I can’t honestly say that these pics look any better. None of them really capture the play of light or the vibrant colors that glint off the sparkly stones. I have no idea what I did wrong, but it was a fun diversion even though I didn’t achieve success.

This princessy sparkle-encrusted goblet is my newest special purchase and the beverage isn’t pink champagne, it’s my fave cayenne kombucha.

Here are the results…I’m trying something different because I seem to have reached my photo limit on WP. This is an embed by Imgur.

Waxing Poetic

Happy November!

I simply HAD to share this brilliant illustration by Will Santino, cartoonist at The New Yorker.
https://www.willsantino.com/

No photo description available.

Foot Fascination

Due to a communications mixup, I didn’t get to see the new podiatrist until today.

Lemme back up…about a month ago, my foot started to hurt after a long walk. At first I thought it was a stress fracture, but there was no bruising.

Pretend doc that I think I am, I decided it was a joint or tendon injury: extensor tendonitis and possibly capsulitis of the second metatarsal. I wore a boot in the house, iced it, soaked in epsom salts, taped it up with KT tape, and did a lot of stretching.

Refusing to give in to the pain, I forced my poor foot to go on long walks that were excruciatingly painful.

Finally, this morning, I got an xray and waited for the doc. Actually there were two of them that came in to see me, ‘cos I guess it was a slow Monday. They asked me what happened and I gave them both the benefit of my ZERO years of medical school.

I was pretty chatty and finally, one of them broke in and said, “How’d you like to look at the xray?”

I said, “Well, you could have shut me up about five minutes ago haha”, but he said he liked listening to my diagnosis, even though I was totally wrong.

The xray left no doubt as to what the problem is IT’S a COMPLETELY BROKEN stress fracture at the base of the toe and not healing because I kept re-injuring it.

My initial diagnosis was correct! I should have gone to medical school for real, oh well, too late now…

I hate my feet, I really do, they’re tiny but completely deformed from too many years of ballet and toe-crushing pointe shoes, in addition to breaking every toe multiple times because I’m CARELESS. I call them my fat little trotters.

I can’t walk anywhere for two weeks, I have to wear a hiking boot in the house, I can’t go barefoot at all, and I had to promise to actually and truly wear the boot so I wouldn’t be forced to have an aircast up to my knee. In other words, my foot needs to be completely immobilized.

On the plus side, they told me I had the softest feet they had ever seen, (which was only slightly weird) and they loved my high arches–from an anatomical perspective. The docs said I should see the rest of the feet THEY have to look at all day, and in that regard, my feet were a PLEASURE. LOL. AND that my sunny disposition cheered them both up because they were having a not-so-great Monday. We spent a lot of time laughing which made me happy, too.

There’s a SLIGHT chance I’ll have to have surgery in January, but only if it doesn’t finish healing correctly if I disregard their expert advice.

That’s my Monday, I hope yours is less fraught with injury!

Can You Spot the Typo?

Honestly, does anybody still know how to spell OR proofread OR edit their work?

This sticker is on every single gas pump–at least in my area, and it REALLY annoys me. If I knew who to call to lodge a complaint and demand a correction, I would, but there’s no company info.

By the way, do you have any idea how much I DETEST pumping gas? I let the tank get down to empty every. single. time. It’s one of the little life tasks that I absolutely ABHORE, and this desecration of a common word irritated the hell out of me yesterday when I was forced by circumstance to find a gas station or push my car home.

I discovered this gem, kinder than I’d be…” In the end, we’re only human, and humans make mistakes. That doesn’t mean we can’t do our best to avoid them. Be aware of common errors, learn from other’s mistakes, and take necessary steps to check your work. As author Randolph Hock warns, “If there are spelling and grammatical errors, assume that the same level of attention to detail probably went into the gathering and reporting of the ‘facts’ given on the site.”” https://www.qualitylogoproducts.com/blog/why-spelling-errors-affect-business/

(Also this, as pointed out by an eagle-eyed friend who questioned this: “Buildup is a noun that refers to an increase in something, like plaque on one’s teeth. Build up is a noun phrase that means to accrue or increase something.”)

Did you spot the typo? Let me know in comments…

Unexplained Mystery | Is Anyone HERE?

The first time this occurred, I paused for a minute, thought it was slightly ODD, but rationalized to myself that I must have done it and forgotten, although I don’t forget much.

THIS time, there’s no rational explanation that I can deduce.

What is it? Who is it? Has a portal opened into another universe? Is someone trying to communicate with me? Or has some creepy sociopath gained access to my bedroom?

About a month ago, I was changing the bed linens, something I regularly do on Sunday. I found a Shungite crystal under my pillow. I don’t have any recollection of lifting my pillow and placing it there. It’s not something I would normally do, as I have a pretty bowl of crystals close by on my bedside table.

I forgot all about it until yesterday when I changed the sheets and discovered another rock perfectly centered under the pillow on the other side of my bed. This was a pretty little sparkly round rock I found a while ago on a hike in the PNW.

VERY STRANGE.

I’m at a loss to figure out how this happened and what the message could possible be conveyed….can you?

DIY: Embellishing the Ordinary

When I’m sad or melancholy, I shop. When I’m happy, I shop. It’s an all purpose panacea that works for me, no matter what. They don’t call it retail therapy for nothing.

I was out and about browsing in all my usual haunts from Ross to TJ Maxx to the Rack.

I didn’t find much except for a pair of Laura Ashley slippers. I love to wear slippers; I have a closet full of them from animal print to sequin-studded to a couple pairs of Hello Kitty slippers that were gifts. I don’t have any babouches, those flat Moroccan slippers, but I have mostly every other style.

I brought home these pillow-soft, ballet-pink slippers and determined that something was missing. They’re super soft and comfortable but they needed some enchanted style embellishment to become perfect.

The white bow didn’t work for me. It seems to me that Laura Ashley could have really taken it up to another level if they had given it a bit more thought.

I removed the bows and drove to a fabric store.

I was thinking about a pompom to look like a little bunny, but then I spied a fabric flower with a rhinestone center. I had to have it.

Luckily, there were two, so I brought them home. Even more fortuitous for me is that they already had a pin mechanism on the back so I can take them off when I throw the slippers into the washing machine.

HAPPINESS!

After I attached the flowers, I was feeling satisfied with myself and I know I’m a little strange, but I felt like a princess walking (still limping) through the house with my adorable slippers.

In fact, I love them so much, I created a little photo sesh with different backgrounds. Definitely fit for royalty.

On animal print.
On a soft and furry blanket.
Draped in pearls and gems.

Low cost fun for me. Slippers: $7.99
Flowers: $8.00 for the pair as they were on sale.

My joy: priceless, because I’m easy to please.

Embellishing the ordinary is my special talent. There is beauty all around.

LOVE!

Reflections: Princess Rosebud Random Facts Revealed

I’ve been asked to share a little bit about who I am, so here ya go! I had to have three old crowns replaced this morning and while I’m recovering from the lidocaine numbness, I thought I’d string together random facts about me. Sadly, those aren’t the kind of crowns I’d prefer to wear but I guess I can say that I am now really and truly royal.

Why Princess Rosebud? I’m named after my paternal grandmother, a Jewish tradition, and her name was Rose. My dad started calling me Rosebud; other people began to refer to me as Princess (for obvious reasons), and thus Princess Rosebud was born. When my Angel Kids call me Grandma Princess Rosebud, it makes me laugh A LOT.

I grew up in Detroit and moved to SoCal during high school. I was a year younger than my classmates because I used to be SUPER smart and skipped a grade. However, that brainy-ness wore off fairly early, I’m sad to say. Since my dad wanted me to become a lawyer like he was or a doctor, I’m sure he would be slightly disappointed, but I’d still be his Rosebud, no matter what.

I don’t remember much about my high school years because I left early every day to intern at the Old Globe Theatre and to take ballet classes. I don’t think I went to a single football game, although I attended senior prom. As I posted a few months ago, I recently reconnected with a high school classmate who reminded me of the time we attended a Doors concert and I jumped on the stage. Hand to heart I didn’t remember one detail about that evening even though there are several newspaper accounts. As introverted as I am most of the time, getting close to Jim Morrison was the catalyst I needed to step outside of my natural tendencies.

Thanks to https://marthakennedy.blog/, I recalled a memory of the Old Globe. I interned mostly in the costume department where I learned the invaluable skill of sewing a breakaway sleeve for fight scenes. A few years later, I auditioned for a production of Chekhov’s The Seagull. It went so well that the director (famous Craig Noel) old me to keep going after I had finished a couple of paragraphs. The room was silent as I continued, and I was shocked to receive resounding applause. I didn’t get the job, though, but it was my best audition. I ALMOST showed up the following year to audition for Equus until I learned the role involved nudity and I couldn’t do it.

I stopped eating all meat of any kind in my junior year of high school. It took a bit longer to completely remove dairy and fish, but that happened, too. Right now in my refrigerator, all you’ll find is vegan pesto, tofu, mushrooms, and a fresh batch of veggie lentil soup. Avocados are a staple too, I eat one every day for the good fat.

I’ve always loved wolves and have no idea WHY since Detroit is the last place in the world you’d find one. There are wolves on Isle Royale, but I’ve never been there. According to a shamanic practitioner, I was actually a wolf in a former life, so that explains the connection. I like that scenario. Being outdoors with nature is where I’m happiest; tall buildings and concrete are disorienting and cause me a lot of anxiety so I tend to avoid the big city.

I went to college here, majored in literature, creative writing, and entered the elementary education teaching program, then I decided I wanted to be a famous movie star or director or something in show biz and switched my master’s focus to drama and production.

I thought about emigrating to New Zealand ‘cos I love to ski, but there was (and still is) a really long quarantine process for dogs so I didn’t follow through on that. I’ve always had a Border Collie in my life, at times along with a rescued wolfdog and other assorted cats and dogs.

After being cast in a few films and a stint as a casting assistant, I abandoned my Hollywood dreams because of a particularly scary and ugly casting director experience. Thank goodness I was saved before anything happened. Think along the lines of Harvey Weinstein…WHEW.

I interned at a local TV news station but didn’t enjoy it—a lot goes on behind the scenes and it’s way too competitive for me, but I learned a bit about investigative journalism. Mostly, I found it personally unsavory to shove a microphone in a mom’s face who had lost her son to a senseless street murder and ask her how she was feeling about it all…Not my cup of tea. I refer to those types of reporters as vultures…

A couple years later, I put all my effort, time, and attention into growing, birthing, and being mom to the original Angel Boy, still dipping my toe into local politics and passion projects from time to time, and always always defending and protecting and fighting for the rights of wolves and coyotes to exist.

Five years ago AB finally figured out the only way to deflect this Drone Mom is to have a baby (all about me, see how I do that?) which was a total success for him because my unparalleled devotion and obsessive attention is now laser focused on the Angel Kids, a win-win for us all.

As socially introverted as I am most of the time, I easily speak to huge crowds as I did when I testified in Sacramento to save wolves or stir up the masses at a packed city council meeting (I’m famous for that) or even to meet and speak with His Holiness the Dalai Lama. I experience no fear at all in those situations but I’m most comfortable talking to my coyotes or my tomatoes or sitting on the floor discussing rainbows and kitty cakes with my Angel Kids. I can still hear T…”Grandma, why do I see a green bit? Is there any kale in here?” (Heehee, yes there’s probably always kale in everything I prepare, from muffins to smoothies.)

I literally never take a selfie but I was FaceTiming last evening with the fam and my son uncharacteristically told me I looked pretty which he NEVER does (AND he didn’t even have ulterior motives this time) so I had to snap a quick pic to see what he was looking at.

His exact words were, “Why are you all dressed up?” I wasn’t at all dressed up, but I can see his point since I emulate Cinderella most of the time. If I’m not scrubbing the floor or standing at the stove, what else could I be doing?

FUNNY!

Here I am. No filter and my necklaces are all tangled up. Straight-ish or curly, what do you think? Since I was at the dentist for such a long time, I showed him these pics and he liked the curly one. Random market research haha.