Category Archives: Princess Rosebud

I’m a Mutant

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I may have confessed this before but I can’t remember when or even if I actually did, so apologies if you heard this story before…

The subject of body odor came up recently when my son was looking through my medicine cabinets because he forgot his deodorant and was hunting for mine. (We’re all about sharing is caring around here.)

I reminded him that I have NEVER used deodorant because I don’t need it; never did, and all that proves is that he NEVER listens to me because I know I’ve shared that with him a million times. (The absent-minded professor cliche and all that entails is a real thing.)

I have zero body odor.

I mean, I smell GOOD thanks to Chanel, but even if I’ve been working out at the gym or at the end of an all day hike, I never small bad. Most of the time I don’t even sweat, but if I do, I still don’t smell bad. It’s true.

I remember back when all the grown up changes were happening to my body and my mom gave me THE TALK and we went shopping for THE THINGS. She told me it was also time to use deodorant and we picked out a really cool one (mother-daughter fun times) along with presents for reaching a milestone (and you can see where I acquired my love for shopping!)

I dutifully added deodorant to my daily self care routine but I slowly realized that I didn’t need it. It made no difference to my body’s odors. I just didn’t have one, nor did I perspire. When I told my mom and had her SMELL me at random times, she was surprised but agreed, and as a nurse, her professional response to me was that I was a medical miracle.

I never purchased nor used another deodorant, not even when I was pregnant and my body was going through a million hormonal surges.

Since there was no Google, there was nowhere to research this unusual phenomenon. I wish my mom was here now so I could tell her what I’ve learned about the genetic factors that cause someone NOT to emanate an unpleasant body odor.

In fact, the gene wasn’t even discovered until the 2000s. It also has something to do with having dry as opposed to wet ear wax but that’s too gross for me to think about.

You were right, Mom! I really am a medical miracle!

The ABCC11 protein is important in transporting small molecules across membranes in secretory cells. Mutations in this gene will lead to dryer earwax and decreased body odor. Mutations in the ABCC11 gene may also lead to a decreased risk of breast cancer.

Two percent of people carry an unusual form of a specific gene (ABCC11) that means their armpits never smell.

What I find really interesting is that East Asian and Native American people were already known to have a form of the ABCC11 gene compared with other ethnicities, and as far as I know, I am neither of those. I haven’t done any genetic testing on myself to be sure, but I kinda doubt it.

My DNA is pretty much 100% Jewish princess.

I also know that I didn’t pass that genetic anomaly to my son because he definitely NEEDS deodorant. Most definitely, which is why he was searching in my bathroom. (Sorry, Angel Boy!)

The finding came from research involving 6,495 women who were enrolled in the Children of the 90s study at the University of Bristol, England and was published in the Journal of Investigative Dermatology.

In the study, 117 (2%) of the subjects were lucky enough to carry this gene that allowed them to never have to worry about using deodorant. 

People with the ABCC11 non-functioning gene variant have dry earwax and little or no body odor. People with a functioning ABCC11 gene usually have wet earwax and body odor. I didn’t know there was a connection, did you?

ABCC11 is required for the transport of lipophilic substances, bile acids, conjugated steroids, and – most importantly – the component found in apocrine sweat and earwax, which results in odor and wet earwax. Again, gross…

The transporter doesn’t work for people who have loss-of-function genetic variants and thus doesn’t transfer the odor-causing lipids into their armpits. 

One day I might do my DNA profile to try and figure out how I acquired this genetic deviation, but for now, I will just be happy to be an enchanted mutant princess who smells really, really good, like a rose!

Best Mantra for 2022 | Mercury Retrograde, Full Moon, Total Lunar Eclipse, Oh MY!

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I can’t believe I didn’t post this! It’s been hiding in my Drafts folder since January. We have seven more months of 2022 and we’re not quite halfway there, so I think there’s enough time to meditate and set positive intentions.

With all of this frenetic “as above” planetary activity; Mercury retrograde AND a full flower moon on May 15 AND a total lunar eclipse at the same time, there’s more than enough reason to take a giant step back and BREATHE.

In my area, the lunar eclipse will be visible on May 15 from 7:30 p.m. until 11:50 p.m.

Here’s a great mantra: “Sat Chit Ananda” (Truth, Consciousness, Bliss)

Sit or lie comfortably and take a few moments to relax. Pay attention to your breath as it moves in and out. Soften, let go, and surrender to the quiet.

Silently repeat to yourself, “Sat Chit Ananda (Truth, Consciousness, Bliss).”

Set a timer for ten to twenty minutes, and try not to watch the clock. Allow all feelings and sensations to emerge; feel the power that rises up, and ENJOY!

After you release the mantra, remain still for as long as you can and listen to your heart, where lies all truth.

Namaste.

Later, reflect on this beautiful words by Patrick Graven:

Our hearts full of depth, Life in every breath, Beauty that blooms in our hearts, An infinite love that never parts.Destined to find our way, Will make us live only for today, Guiding the path for beauty to follow, To leave behind the pain and hold the hopes of tomorrow. The wind is blowing against the trees, And the moon shines forth with its glow, Even your own light never to be extinguished, Through life and all its growth. All we have is this space between the poles, As the stars shine with sense renewed, Beauty is seen again as petals unfold, A light that found a way to shine through. Everyday that it takes to feel alive, Believing in our hearts that there is a way, All we need is to shine from the inside, And embrace the meaning of our living grace.The glory of new things to come, The essence of all you will achieve, The purity of all you will become, When you look within and believe.

https://patrickgravenwriting.wordpress.com/

Pink! Pink! Pink! Full Moon

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Look up! Tonight’s Pink Full Moon is in Libra, and a full moon is always a powerful time for energy healing, to recharge our chakras and crystals.

This moon is associated with the springtime blossoming of the Phlox subulata plant, a pink wildflower native to eastern North America, according to The Old Farmer’s Almanac. The plant is commonly known as creeping phlox, moss phlox, or mountain phlox.

The Dakota tribe dubbed it the “moon when the streams are again navigable,” while the Tlingit tribe called it “budding moon of plants and shrubs,” in reference to the end of winter and the resurgence of plant growth.

Here’s another reason to look up; a Lyrids meteor shower from April 21 to 22!

The next full moon in my birthday month of May will be a more impressive spectacle because it coincides with a total lunar eclipse.

Since pink is my favorite color, let’s all set happy pink intentions!

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Photo curated from https://www.facebook.com/Spiritual-Awakenings-%E0%A5%90-105433989565465/

√

Melancholy

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There will always be a hole in my heart for all my loved and departed souls.

I had a dream about my Border Collie and I thought of “melon collie”, our joke because Victor loved to eat almost anything including cantaloupe and watermelon, and then I saw this.

Sometimes this is exactly how I feel; a void left by grief, sitting on a bench, adrift in sadness.

I’m updating this post to include some research into this sculpture because I feel it’s relevant.

Albert Gyorgy felt intense sadness and isolation with the loss of his wife and went on to create this beautiful piece of artwork as a way to cope.

This hole represents the massive void that we all feel when we lose someone dear to us, and many people have expressed their appreciation for this sculpture for it portraying the exact emotions they feel, but perhaps haven’t been able to quite put into words.

Curated from: https://www.penwellgabeltopeka.com/Blog/6245/Melancoliesculpture

Think Pink

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I don’t know why Angel Girl 2.0 and I love the color pink as much as we do, but we DO.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“PINK PINK PINK!”‘

A little research reveals that the color pink represents compassion, nurturing, tenderness, and love. It relates to unconditional love and understanding, and the giving and receiving of nurturing.

A combination of red and white, pink contains the need for action of red, helping it to achieve the potential for success and insight offered by white. It is the passion and power of red softened with the purity, openness and completeness of white. The deeper the pink, the more passion and energy it exhibits.

Pink is feminine and romantic, affectionate and intimate, thoughtful and caring. It tones down the physical passion of red replacing it with a gentle loving energy. https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/color-pink.html

All I know for sure is that all shades of PINK make me happy, from the pink of my ballet shoes to any and all flowers in the garden. After all, I was named for a flower so in my case, it was sort of predestined.

It’s a little early for my rosebushes, but here’s a very pink freesia:

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View post on imgur.com

And deeply pink peach flowers, Since this is the tree’s first year, I know I’m supposed to pinch off all the flowers so the tree will grow stronger but I can’t bear to do that.

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View post on imgur.com

“I want to go home.”

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I had an unsettling dream. I had originally awakened just before six a.m. and thought I’d meditate but I made the mistake of laying my head back down on the pillow and fell asleep for about thirty more minutes.

BIG mistake.

I remember bits and pieces of this dream but am losing the main narrative. Dreams are so ephemeral; they swirl out of my mind like smoke from a bundle of sage. I’m hurrying to write it down before the details disappear forever.

My mom decided she wanted to move to another city. I can’t remember the reason but I went with her. I recall that I was moving away from the angels who lived in the city we were leaving and why I would do that that made absolutely no no sense to me, but I did it anyway. This was weird and out of character behavior because in real life, my mom lived with us here in this house. She wasn’t the type of person to encourage me to abandon my family.

There are decades and lives that are not aligned in reality — my mom died years before there were any angels and I don’t live in the Pacific Northwest like they do, but dreams shapeshift and time travel, so in that regard I guess it all makes sense. Sort of.

On the whole, I like to stay put, I like security, I love the adventure of travel but I also like to have an anchor to bring me back, a safe haven, a sanctuary. I don’t really take risks like packing up all my stuff and moving away forever. For me, there’s no place like home.

Back to the dream…we found a house to rent and I was engrossed in decorating my bedroom in pink and lavender (details!) but I wasn’t happy. I was yearning for HOME. I can’t explain WHY but there were roommates and I stayed in my room because I like solitude. I missed the angels. Oh, my bed was a narrow hospital bed with a handcrank, not sure why; maybe it was already there in the room because I wasn’t sick, not in the dream.

My mom suggested we attend some kind of outdoor activity–I can’t recall if it was a theme park or a street fair or a sports game (things she HATED in real life) but I went with her.

I got lost and separated from her because it was too noisy and I became disoriented. A little boy about T’s age was lost too but he had a better sense of direction than I did and helped us both find the exit where I found my mom waiting for me. I remember thinking that I should escort the little boy to his grownups, but in my dream, he kind of vanished. I guess he was there to help me, not the other way around,

I told her, “I want to go home. I really want to go home. I really need to go home.”

She said “OK” and we immediately started packing to return home.

After that, I woke up with the strongest message in my head, “I want to go home.” As soon as I opened my eyes before I was fully awake, I repeated it out loud to myself.

But I AM home.

I already know there’s no place like home. It’s very special to me.

What was that all about?

Trust Your Gut

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I really thought I had posted this before, but found it in my drafts folder.

This was a brief moment in time but chock-full of unanswered questions and potential menace where my gut intelligence sussed out something so weird and so random. It was like a scene on a TV show.

A while back before the pandemic stopped most travel, I was taking a short flight. I had an aisle seat. As this was a smaller aircraft, there were only two seats on either side; window or aisle.

A man walked by and said his was the window seat. I got up so he could squeeze in. He was a big man, not really obese, but close to it. His bulk took up the entire seat. Thank you, he said several times, although I’m not sure why he kept repeating himself. He was looking at me as if he wanted to strike up a conversation and I wasn’t really feeling particularly chatty so I began to read a book. I could feel his eyes on me, though, and I felt a creepy vibe.

Here’s where the first strange stirrings of anticipatory dread occurred.

In the periphery of my mind, or maybe it was my gut, I had an odd feeling. That’s the only way I can describe it. Odd. Nothing tangible to point my finger at, nothing out of place, nothing I could see with my eyes, but a real feeling that something was wrong with this person flitted through my mind and my gut. In fact, I was on high alert for any gesture or words or behavior that might be inappropriate.

It’s unusual to have a first impression like that, don’t you agree?

I’ve been learning to trust my gut even when there might be nothing definite to satisfy my need for facts that I can see or hear or touch.

Luckily for me, as I was planning to dread the next few hours, a flight attendant stopped by and asked me if I’d like to move to another row by myself as the plane wasn’t full. I jumped at her suggestion and enjoyed the peace and quiet, all the while wondering what made me feel like there was something wrong with that man.

When we arrived at our destination, I grabbed my suitcase from the overhead bin and impatiently waited my turn to disembark. I didn’t give that man another thought as I was focused on a stop at the nearest restroom.

The next few moments were like a scene out of a TV crime show and it happened SO FAST, almost too much to process.

I noticed a man standing near the place where we all exit from the jetway to the flight waiting area. He had an intense gaze as he watched all the arriving passengers. That means that he obviously had to go through security.

Apparently I was right behind the man I had originally sat with. He was walking as fast as his size would allow. He spotted the waiting man too, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to escape.

The man stopped him, said in a VERY STERN VOICE, “You know that you violated your parole, don’t you?”

The big man stuttered, “Yes.”

“Well, then there’s nothing left to say. You knew what would happen. I’m here to take you back to prison.”

I was gobsmacked (another one of those great descriptive Brit words).

I thought it prudent to extricate myself in case I became an unwilling participant in some sort of dangerous situation. Although I wanted to watch the rest of the show, I continued to the restroom, shaking my head and praising my gut instincts once again.

I KNEW something was off about that man, but I had no idea that he was a criminal.

I want to know the rest of the story. What was he on parole for? What crimes had he committed? Why didn’t TSA do a better job of screening?

And most of all, I’m thankful that for whatever reason, the flight attendant (and the Universe) moved me to safety from any potential harm. Maybe I’m being melodramatic and maybe I’m not. Maybe I really do live an enchanted life. Maybe there ARE angels protecting me.

How crazy is that????

Happy Birthday, Mommy

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She’d be 107 years old today. I miss her more than she probably ever imagined.

Her legacy endures because Angel Boy 1.0 and DIL named Angel Girl after her. They have photos of her at their home and both children know who she is and how much of an honor it is to be named for her. She’s Daddy’s grandma, Grandma’s mommy.

Since my mom was an absolutely amazing grandma, I try to emulate some of the same things she did with my son; have endless patience with laser focused attention, play with them forEVER, and take each of them solo toy shopping.

“Look what Grandma got me, Mommy! Grandma said I could get ANYTHING I wanted” as my son showed me one Matchbox car, the only thing he chose. (He always was frugal!)

I knew it wasn’t the object that made him happy, it was spending time with Grandma that was fun and special. And important.

Happy Birthday! I wish we all had more time with her, that’s for sure.

Driving around doing errands this morning, I heard one of her favorite songs at least three times, a message for sure! She loved Prince’s When Doves Cry, and so do I.

2-2-22

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This is supposed to be a special day, opening intense portals, but I don’t feel more glamorous or angelic or perceptive, so maybe I’m not aligned properly.

‘2222 PORTAL and 2222 is made up of the energies of number 22, the Master Builder Number that resonates with ancient wisdom, vision, idealism, and transformation”. From Healing Energy Tools.

We also have the energies of the new moon in Aquarius.

Last night I woke up at 2:23 a.m (!) I don’t know if it was a lucid dream or reality, but either way, I heard loud pounding on my side garage door. In that inbetween state before I fully awoke, I counted approximately ten loud booms like someone was kicking at it.

I never again heard that distinctive sound after I was fully and completely awake, heart rate elevated to about 1000, so I guess it was a dream, but how ODD.

If someone was really trying to break in (there have been a lot of robberies around here) it wouldn’t do them any good because that door is thankfully sealed completely shut and can’t be opened at all. Just to be sure, I checked, and everything looks untouched.

Maybe it was someone trying to break through my portal doors?

According to Magical Recipes Online, “Tonight opens the portal of the High Priestess. It’s the second day of the second month of 2022: 2/2/22. This is very intense portal which leads to the wisdom and the inner mysteries of the High Priestess, the one who can channel the Moon! This portal will stay open until 22nd of February; 22/2/22. DO NOT attempt to open doors you are not ready for. Secrets can be liberating but also deadly! Magic is very very intense! TONIGHT, BE READY TO MOVE FORWARD. REMEMBER: DO NOT ‘UNLOCK DOORS’ IF YOU ARE NOT READY.”

That makes it all even more confusing. Oh my…

Happy February | Imbolc | Chinese New Year

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This is a great day for all of the reasons!

Have you ever gone to a store with a purpose, on a mission, like you know exactly what you’re looking for or need, BUT you become sidetracked and MUST HAVE what caught your eye?

Well, that happened to me. I was looking for prezzies for my almost six-year-old. I like to start accumulating stuff way in advance of his March birthday and not wait until the last minute. I put a lot of thought into the gifts I choose; some educational, some for fun, some for artistic craftiness.

Up and down every aisle and there’s really nothing that I/he can’t live without…until I spy a pink butterfly and I’m entranced. When I get closer, I’m hooked. I’m in love. Obviously I’ve forgotten all about my original intention because this beauty was coming home with ME.

It’s a 12×12 pink butterfly pillow and it’s entirely crafted out of beads and sparkles. Oh my. It’s EVERYTHING. It’s gorgeous and sparkly and pink and tactile and PERFECT for my bed, and it’s on sale. It’s obviously not to be used as an actual pillow; it’s decor– it’s princessy and enchanted and beyond precious.

I have no idea why it was discounted 50%, but I l very gently– reverently— carried it in my arms to the register.

The employee said, “Where did you get that? It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I pointed, and she said, “Just a minute, OK?” and ran over to snag the only other one.

“I had to have it”, she whispered, and I nodded. “I know. Sisters.”

What a simply perfect way to start the lovely month of February.

Butterfly Pillow