There are plenty of loquats to share and a comfortable seat to soak up the sun’s rays.
House finches love fruit.
enchantedseashells.com
Such a bountiful harvest; where do I begin?
enchantedseashells.com
This one looks good and ripe.
enchantedseashells.com
How about a profile pic?
enchantedseashells.com
We have a bounty of zucchini here at the Casa de Enchanted Seashell garden, and the dilemma becomes what the heck does one do with all of this summer squash?
I made a few loaves of zucchini bread because they freeze well.
I’ll pickle a few jars like I’ve done with cucumbers and then I got the brilliant idea to add shredded zucchini to my favorite chocolate cake to boost the nutritional value and keep it super moist, not that it lasts more than a day or two, ‘cos it’s the best chocolate cake EVER, vegan or not.
Best of all, the zucchini magically disappears during baking, so if you have children who are recalcitrant and don’t like veggies (how is that even possible?) this is a great way to TRICK them, although I don’t really approve of deceit as a parenting technique.
Son and DIL are coming down for a brief visit so that’s the perfect excuse reason to experiment PLUS they’re bringing a friend that Angel Boy was in graduate school with at Yale (bad sentence structure, I know), so it’s just like the “old days” when the house was filled with kids for me to stuff with food.
I old-school shredded the zucchini…
All dry ingredients go into the mixing bowl.
Add the liquids…
And the zucchini. So simple, now beat for a couple of minutes to incorporate all the goodness.
When it’s out of the oven and still hot, place about 1/2 cup of vegan chocolate chips on top. When they melt…
Take an offset spatula and spread to make a delicious and easy topping.
See how shiny?
It’s always nice to garnish with garden blooms. I plucked a nasturtium, mint, and lemon verbena.
It’s as yummy as it is GORGEOUS!
Dark Chocolate and Zucchini Vegan Cake
Directions Grease a nine-inch pan. Bake on middle rack of oven for approximately twenty-five to thirty-five minutes. Check with toothpick to make sure it comes out clean. Don’t over bake or it’ll dry out. Cool and frost. |
The Laguna Mountains are only about an hour away east from the ocean in San Diego.
Most people go there when we have snow — at 6000 feet, it’s the highest point in the county.
It’s possible to surf in the morning, cross-country ski (or hike) in the afternoon, and drop down into the shimmering desert to experience the best of everything SoCal has to offer.
Late May to mid-June is the time of year when color explodes in the mountains and it’s not too hot to enjoy a strenuous hike while the air cools down comfortably at night.
It’s easy to get here: east on Highway 8 to Sunrise Highway.
We went mid-week before schools were out for summer vacation and we had the mountain pretty much entirely to ourselves.
Fragrant pines, Engelmenn oaks, wildflowers; deep blue sky with a few white puffy clouds.
Amazing…gorgeous…magnificent…breathtaking…
There aren’t enough adjectives to describe the spectacular views.
We hiked Desert View Trail and Big Laguna Trail, about ten miles or so.
It was truly heaven on earth, one of those experiences where whispering was the only way to communicate-we didn’t want to mar the ultimate reverence for nature.
These are only a sampling of the hundred-plus pics I snapped and none of them do justice to this paradise.
…floating effortlessly on the soft breezes, possibly to lift our spirits lowered by the demise of the baby hummingbirds, is a butterfly sprite of cerulean polka dots and bands of gold called Mourning Cloak (Nymphalis antiopa).
With a nod to Lizzi @ Considerings who asked the question on her Facebook page and got me thinking about one of my favorite books, Betty Smith’s 1943 novel, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn; here in my garden, although water use is now restricted because of the drought and we can no longer grow brightly colored but thirsty blossoms, there’s still beauty if you look for it.
Mother Nature is amazing.
Catching some rays on the rock garden.
So pretty…
Can I come a little closer?
What grows in YOUR garden?
California is beautiful.
Everyone should go on a road trip vacay and drive down (or up) the coast through the central coast along Highway One.
It’s spectacular.
The scenery is amazing and the views are breathtaking, BUT driving around Big Sur, the twistywindytwolanehighway is SCARY, more so if you’ve previously experienced a near death event.
One one side, there’s the vertigo-inducing views of the Pacific Ocean beneath a precipitous embankment, and on the other side, close enough so that if you open a window and reach out, you could almost touch the mountain.
“Mom, why is your lip bleeding?”
“Because I’m biting it to keep from screaming.”
“SLOW DOWN. SLOWDOWNSLOWDOWN!”
“See the red lights on the car in front of us? That is your very obvious CLUE that you need to react and SLOW DOWN.”
“Sssllllooowwwwdddooowwwnnnn…” says the crazy backseat driver.
“Heeheehee.” That’s Angel Boy chuckling at my terror.
“How about leaving a little more distance between you and the car in front of us?”
“Would that be too much to ask?”
My right thigh was becoming numb as I constantly phantom-braked during that entire death defying journey.
I clutched the dash so tightly, I thought they’d have to pry my fingers off of it.
In the back seat, DIL was listening to music and texting, observing this exchange between mother and son.
(I think she was laughing, too.)
My son lives his entire life by multi-tasking every single moment of every single day.
Even while driving, he’s eating, talking to his GPS, and carrying on two conversations.
His new name is Dr. Distracto, because the ONE thing he needed to concentrate on — DRIVING — what should have been his primary focus — was third or fourth on the list of what garnered his attention.
“Geez, pay attention to the traffic, would you?”
“STOOPPPPP!”
I was hyperventilating, fanning my face, telling him, “Do you want to give me a heart attack?”
Remember that film I liked, Guilt Trip, with Barbara Streisand and Seth Rogan?
(Read my review HERE of the best Jew-mom film EVER.)
This was OUR version of a road trip.
It was actually pretty funny. In reality, my son is a good driver in spite of being an absent minded professor.
When it was all over and we were once again on wide, straight roads, I apologized for my bout of insanity and praised his patience and even tempered disposition.
I highly recommend camping with one’s adult child and spouse.
I haven’t heard about too many other people who’ve done this. Let me know if you have and maybe we could start a club.
Popping a squat side-by-side on the trail with one’s DIL makes for a great bonding moment.
They had thoughtfully packed two tents, a huge family-sized Hobitat, and a smaller one in case I wanted to sleep in my own tent, and not with them.
I chose the “mother-in-law” unit because I didn’t want to disturb anyone or crawl over them if I had to get up and to to the bathroom at 3 a.m.
Two highlights of our road trip were day hikes to Jade Cove and Julia Pfeiffer State Park.
I’ve always wanted to explore Jade Cove but I had no idea that it was going to become the challenge of a lifetime.
I had no idea that the only way to get down to where the jade could be found was by rope. THIS was where the EMPOWERMENT really kicked in.
NO WAY was I gonna do that.
Nope. Never. Not in a million years.
It should have been an absolute dealbreaker, but my desire for jade and serptentine treasures made me think I MIGHT be able to take the risk.
It would have been such a shame to come all this way and give in to my fears.
My son patiently coaxed me and DIL all the way and made sure we safely descended the nearly vertical bluffs, while he scrambled down like a mountain goat.
I AM EMPOWERED.
(My hair looks HORRIBLE, but I’m grinning from ear to ear.)
The Jade Cove Trail is a simple flat path that loops out to the coast with a steep but short path down to the water where you can hunt for jade (please follow local regulations about collecting rocks.)
From the top.
Animal print kelp?
Treasures from Jade Cove!
After that, we drove to Julia Pfieffer State Park for a day hike. This state park is named after Julia Pfeiffer Burns, a well respected pioneer woman in the Big Sur country. The park stretches from the Big Sur coastline into nearby 3,000-foot ridges. It features redwood, tan oak, madrone, chaparral, and an 80-foot waterfall that drops from granite cliffs into the ocean from the Overlook Trail. A panoramic view of the ocean and miles of rugged coastline is available from the higher elevations along the trails east of Highway 1.
Overlook Trail and the cove with famous turquoise water.
McWay Falls, one of only two coastal waterfalls in California, where McWay Creek falls 80 feet over a granite cliff onto a sandy beach, or at high tide directly into the Pacific Ocean.
McWay Creek
Majestic redwoods
Squint your eyes and you can see Angel Boy and DIL at the base of the gigantic redwoods.
Bottom line: Empowerment is empowering. At any age.
Read the rest of my Empowerment Series here:
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
I need to finish the last bits of my empowering road trip, but first must share sad, sad news.
When I woke up this morning, the first thing I did (as always) was to check on the baby hummingbirds.
They have grown so much and by my calculations, would be fledging the nest next week.
I took this picture on Sunday.
When I didn’t see two little heads bobbing up and down and squirming around, I opened the back door and saw this empty nest.
The chimes upon which the nest was built was in disarray and a feeling of dread washed over me.
I knew something bad had happened, but couldn’t find any clues to suggest who or what had attacked the nest.
I had one last hope; that the two babies were in the mulberry tree that shades the deck, and were only trying out their new wings.
But then mom flew by and sat on the nest looking all around.
She was as confused as I was.
Calling out to her babies, I could feel her distress.
Over the course of the morning, she’s flown back no less than a dozen times, looking everywhere for her children, which confirms my worst fear that they were abducted by a raccoon or a crow or even a hawk.
But this story gets worse.
As I climbed on the bench to peer inside the empty nest and to snap a pic, I positioned the nest/chimes with my hand to get a better angle.
When I went back in the house to sit down and email tugboat man the tragic news, I saw tiny little creatures crawling on my hand.
I HAD BIRD MITES ON ME.
After washing my hands and arms more times than Lady Macbeth and dousing my entire upper body with rubbing alcohol, I took a boiling hot shower and scrubbed myself and my hair three times.
The mere thought of a creature in my hair and I knew my life would be OVER. Thick, long, curly hair is hard enough to deal with, but the thought of mites nesting up there provokes extreme mental anxiety.
I threw away the shirt I was wearing and washed the other clothes twice in bleach and hot water, so much bleach that they’re now completely devoid of color at this point.
Then I freaked out that the mites were going to invade the house and with gloves on, cut down the nest and chimes and put them into a sealed bag to put in the trash or somehow keep the chimes if I can sterilize them to my satisfaction.
After that, I found ant spray (the only chemicals around) and sprayed every possible surface on the deck and the eaves where the chimes/nest had been.
Bird mite infestations from nests is a real thing. There are horror stories on the internet about it.
Crap.
I wonder how long the feeling that things are crawling on me is going to last?
I’m a clean freak ANYWAY, but this is pushing me over the edge, and hub is out of cell range and not available to calm me down and/or offer his sage advice.
An empty nest is bad enough. To be violently snatched from a warm bed in the middle of the night is every mother’s nightmare.
I don’t know what to say to the hummy mom.
Even now, she’s desperately searching for her babies and there’s no way I can tell her that they’re gone forever.
Her heartache is palpable. I can FEEL her pain.
Hub and I fell in love with the whole process, from watching mom build the nest to laying the jellybean sized eggs to watching them hatch and grow.
This is not the ending I could have predicted.
Poor mom.
She’s extremely distraught; even as I’m typing this, I still hear her calling to them.
Who said animals don’t feel things?
Because of course they do.
A mother’s love has no equal.
I feel like I let down mom down, that she trusted me to help her take care of her precious kids, and I failed miserably.
One of my favorite photos…
Property of enchantedseashells.com
Sometimes Mother Nature sucks.
June 1 SUCKS.
Hiking at Montana de Oro.
After a horrible night of not much sleep thanks to a bunch of obnoxious college students who must have been too drunk to understand that, to most people, camping means peace and quiet, not a beer binged free-for-all, we embarked on a day hike.
Our goal was Valencia Peak, but we first made a loop up Oats Peak Trail.
Valencia Peak is a coastal mountain located within Montana De Oro State Park. This trail offers gorgeous views of the Central Coast, great views of Morro Bay, Cayucos, and on clear days, you can see Cambria and beyond — with amazing views of Spooner’s Cove to the south.
It’s an easy trail with gentle elevation gain; I didn’t even need the alpine walking sticks I packed.
The spectacular views begin right away as you ascend up onto a saddle, and the rest of the hike is before your eyes.
The trail gets a little harder the closer you get to the top.
DIL and I stopped shy of the peak; my son wanted to run to the top and back, so we took a break, ate lunch, and admired the view of the ocean.
There was cell service, so I called tugboat man to say hi and to let him know we are DEFINITELY going to spend a few days here when he returns.
The views are beyond breathtaking. It feels like you’re on top of the world.
The hike down is much easier, but watch out for rattlesnakes. We saw a baby, whose venom is more potent than the adult rattlesnake.
Not too difficult, right?
Ah-may-ZING
Kind of a hazy day, but perfect hiking weather.
My little goat boy.
A narrow passage.
View from the Visitor’s Center.
Part Four: Jade Cove, Julia Pfeiffer, Cambria, and Costanoa.
After the mostly tranquil train ride (except for one poorly parented relentlessly screamingfordonuts toddler who seemed not to be bothered by her screeching while staring at their smartphones), I was met at the train station in sunny Santa Barbara by Professor Angel Boy and we stopped for lunch at an organic foods cafe.
We made an unscheduled detour because he wanted to check out the surf at Morro Bay, and because it’s always really all about him, that’s what we did.
Driving up the coast to Morro Bay.
I’m not much of a seagull lover, but this guy was too photogenic to ignore.
After a brief surf session, we continued to Montana de Oro State Park, six miles southwest of Morro Bay and seven miles south of Los Osos on Pecho Road.
It’s fairly rural and rustic, but SO beautiful. We set up camp and were able to manage a late afternoon hike.
With the sun low in the sky; clouds and fog actively moving over the tops of the mountains, it was serene and enervating at the same time.
Crossing a small creek.
Lichen.
Pretty yellow flowers.
Ah-MAY-zing view.
A mole peeking out of his hole.
Quail are everywhere and for a while, their melodic conversations were the only sounds we heard. These guys were walking around directly outside my tent.
Later that evening, after a relaxing fire and glass of wine, we heard the unmistakable scream/growl of a bobcat across the canyon.
At that moment, life was perfection. The only way it could have been better was if tugboat man wasn’t oceans away and not able to enjoy our holiday.
Little did we know that in a few short hours, in sharp contrast to this beauty and tranquility, we would endure the WORST EVER camping experience of our lives.
As we settled down to a good night’s sleep under a star-filled sky, a group of approximately twenty college students set up their camp nearby and proceeded to drink and yell and party LOUDLY until 4:30 a.m. in spite of the 10pm-7am quiet time rules.
Apparently, nobody, including us, got up to inform the camp host or the rangers of this HELL we had to endure, but we all complained to him the next day.
Just awful.
However, at approximately 3:30 a.m. just as we were dozing, or trying to, during the bacchanal, three fat raccoons furiously attempted to tear apart the locked food cabinet next to our picnic table. My son had to get up and shoo them away, and as he put the food in the car, one of them tried to sneak in.
Amazing.
It was an eventful night.
Right after THAT little adventure, a bobcat screamed so close we thought it was within feet of where we were sleeping, and figured that he had an altercation with those raccoons.
No one slept much after that, because we wanted to stay awake in case we could see him walk by.
No luck with the bobcat sighting, but as I unzipped my tent in the morning, see who was looking at me? An beautiful gray fox. These aren’t the best pics because I was in such a hurry to snap them before he ran off.
What an astonishing gift to sort of make up for the rude frat boys.
So far, quite an adventure, don’t you agree?
Part Three: A Ten-Mile Hike
(Blogging from the train, which is OK except for spotty wifi and my paragraph edits aren’t working, so this post won’t look exactly right.)
“It’s never too late to become empowered” she said.
Our very own full nest.
Property of enchantedseashells.com
#hummingbird #nature #nestingbirds #birds #MotherNature #love #motherslove
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 
