Spent the last few days with my preggy DIL and the original Angel Boy.
Today we went to Golden Gate Park and the Botanical Gardens.
It was a glorious blue sky day!
These might not be the best photos; I was rushed and didn’t have time to focus!
This is a great article in the San Diego Free Press about the corruption going on my little beach town. We are #CarlsbadStrong
Carlsbad Referendum Signatures Stun Caruso, City Council Pals
By Richard Riehl
It must have been quite a shock for L.A.’s Caruso-affiliated executives to see the stack of signed petitions delivered to the Carlsbad city clerk’s office last Thursday. The 9,000 signers of the referendum petition are calling for a public vote on the developer’s plan for a lagoon-view shopping center, as promised in the title of the initiative, Measure to be Submitted Directly to the Voters.
When the Carlsbad city Council unanimously approved his plan on August 25, Caruso had already spent nearly $3 million on signature gatherers and a blizzard of glossy, full-color mailers to persuade 20,000 Carlsbadians that his plan to build a shopping mall was all about saving the Strawberry Fields.
The day after the council voted, a grassroots group, Citizens for North County, announced its plan to launch a referendum drive. Caruso had to redouble his marketing campaign. But this time his mailers, accompanied by daily prime time TV ads, featured headshot photos of and quotes from all five city Council members, as well as the owner of the Strawberry Fields. Each repeated the lie that signing the referendum would destroy the Strawberry Fields, despite the promise of Prop D to preserve them, passed by voters in 2006. The Caruso mailer included a detachable, postage-paid card to return to the city clerk for signers of the referendum to have their names withdrawn.
About 700 signers chose to do so. Caruso relied on the confusion caused by his two dishonest campaigns to “Save the Strawberry Fields,” the first by signing an initiative, the second by refusing to sign a referendum, to keep residents from signing anything. Heads he wins, tails we lose.
While the strange bedfellows of big-money and elected officials urged us to turn down our right to vote, the citizen-led referendum drive soldiered on, relying on social media to generate hundreds of volunteers to station themselves in city parks and other public places to collect 9,000 signatures in 30 days on a paltry $9,000 budget. That’s 300 signatures a day at a dollar apiece.
It took 90 days for Caruso’s professional signature gatherers to snag 20,000 signatures. With a $3 million budget, that amounts to only 222 signatures a day at $150 each.
I couldn’t help but wonder why the city Council not only refused to put the Caruso plan up for a vote in a special election, but even to delay their decision for 30 days to enable residents to be more fully informed. The August 25 meeting was packed with dissenters. You’d think elected officials would be more responsive to their constituents.
That made me curious about campaign contributions, so I went to the city’s website, where I found, among Mayor Matt Hall’s financial supporters, the name of James Ukegawa, the man you see posing in the Strawberry Fields on Caruso’s mailers and in his TV ads. He’s identified as a “Carlsbad Strawberry Company Farmer” on the mayor’s filing form, stamped by the city clerk on July 30, 2014. Ukegawa’s $5,000 contribution is dated June 7, 2014.
The “Strawberry Company Farmer” is identified on Michael Schumacher’s campaign finance filing as the “Owner of Aviara Farms.” He made two contributions to Schumacher’s campaign, one for $2,500 on September 12, 2014, the other for $1,760 on October 29, 2014.
Mayor Hall and Council member Schumacher had $9,260 good reasons between them to support their favorite constituent.
As I perused the many other contributions to the campaigns of these two candidates, I noted the number of out of town real estate companies, building and construction firms, and for some unknown reason, the special generosity of the executives of the Rancho Santa Fe Grand Pacific Resorts. I’ll leave that mystery to an investigative reporter, if there are any left after the collapse of print journalism.
The willingness to accept significant contributions from out of town businesses shows the hypocrisy of elected officials who blame “outside interests” for the success of a referendum drive. Click here to find the city’s web page disclosing campaign contributions.
The San Diego County Registrar of Voters has 30 days, not including weekends, to validate the referendum’s signatures to see if there are 6,523, the magic number that will force the city Council to either hold a special election or put Caruso’s plan on the ballot in the 2016 general election.
A few years ago, Carlsbad boasted of a $50 million reserve fund, I’m guessing it’s grown substantially since then. The city says the cost of a special election would be $500,000. Mayor Hall says it would be a waste of money. Considering what’s at stake, I’d say it’s a bargain.
Carlsbad Referendum Signatures Stun Caruso, City Council Pals
After his 30-year career in public education, Richard Riehl began his second life as a freelance journalist, beginning as an op-ed columnist for San Diego’s former daily newspaper, North County Times. During the 2008 Presidential campaign he edited the Huffington Post’s daily, Roadkill: OffTheBus’s Ongoing RoundUp of the Awkward, the Ugly, and the Just Plain Weird. His articles have appeared in the San Diego Reader’s BlogDiego, Carlsbadistan-Taming The Wilds of Carlsbad-by-The-Sea, and the OsideNews.com. Check out his blog at The Riehl World (theriehlworld2.blogspot.com), email him at richard_riehl@yahoo.com, and follow him on Twitter, @RichardRiehl.
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.
(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.
Warning: This series won’t be your glossy Chamber of Commerce tourism fluff piece to encourage more visitors.
Instead, It’s the candid observations of someone who’s lived here for thirty years.
Join me step-by-step as I walk around neighborhoods old and new all the way to the beach and back.
I’m seeing my not-so-little town through fresh eyes.
Today’s topic is Signs and Rules.
Do this. Don’t do that.
Carlsbad is chock full of sings and rules.
Here’s a sign with bad grammar.
And excuse me for asking the obvious, but WHY plant blueberries in a front yard on a busy corner lot where dozens of kids walk back and forth to school and in a ‘hood where almost everyone has more than one dog — when you have a HUGE backyard?
(That’s a rhetorical question.)
Next, are we going to see a misspelled manifesto to crows and blue jays about not picking and eating the ripe berries?
A lot of poop and dog-related signs.
Purchased or homemade…
I couldn’t find the common area this sign referenced; I assume the dog owners who live in the complex have been made aware of the pet-acceptable locations.
And what happens if they disobey the rules?
And here, humans are outlawed, while it seems as if implied consent is proffered to dogs and every other species.
I ignored the sign, ‘cos nobody tells Princess what to do.
That sign ain’t the boss of ME.
This tiki expresses exactly how I feel about being told what to do.
Or what NOT to do.
Usually I take a small backpack or cross body bag to carry essentials but leave my hands free to take photos; this time, thanks to Flipbelt sending me a sample to try, I wasn’t weighted down — I hardly know it was there.
There’s room for my keys, phone, ID, lip balm, and a few dollars. Simply put the items in and flip the belt over. FlipBelt is designed to carry on-the-go essentials without tying up your hands. Made of a moisture-wicking, spandex-lycra blend, FlipBelt slides right on and sits snug on your hip. No bulk. No bounce. FlipBelt is also machine washable and machine dryable.
It’s an ideal accessory for outdoor summer workouts, and will be great for biking and traveling, too, Flipbelt retails for $28.99, and comes in nine cool colors including black. (I chose black so it would go with everything.)
For this review, there was no compensation; I was sent product to sample and review. The honest opinions are my own.
**And thanks to Kim who read my mind, I’m including this song about signs that all of us olds heard a zillion times:
I’m back from Wolf Mountain Sanctuary in the Mojave Desert.
I’ll post about our experience at the sanctuary, but it was mostly sad. Sad that these magnificent creatures NEED to be rescued. Sad that they can’t roam free, sad they’re hunted, tortured, hated. They are among the most intelligent and evolved species. How dare we destroy them. Sad. Very sad.
Check out this amazing outcropping of rocks.
The Mojave Desert is also known as the High Desert because of its elevation, between 2,000 and 4,000 feet above sea level. 
Blue sky and rocks.
Ick.
LOVE this pic.
Rock climber Not me.
#highdesert #mojave #desert #wolves #hiking
This was a fun and very educational excursion.
Sea Turtle Sanctuary Tortugueros Las Playitas A.C.
Environmental Conservation with Sea Turtle Focus
From their website:
“Our mission is to protect, conserve and replenish the fragile marine eco-systems of Baja California Sur, Mexico. In addition to our Sea Turtle population recovery program we place special interest on Habitat Protection, Environmental Education and Community Outreach in Todos Santos, Las Playitas and Agua Blanca.
One of our goals is help restore the Critically Endangered Pacific Leatherback population which is on the verge of extinction. Our Incubation Greenhouse stabilizes sand temperatures creating an ideal nest habitat, where hatch rates are maximized and gender ratios are balanced. We invite you to join us as a volunteer, event participant or sponsor and help balance the fragile marine eco systems of Baja.”
There was a graduate student from Kansas collecting data with another scientist. They were very gracious and invited us inside for a private tour.
All the darling little turtle eggs were covered in palm fronds. It was as hot as a Bikram yoga class in the plastic covered hut.
Babies!
Squeeeeee! More babies!
We weren’t able to stay until sundown to observe their release and watch them march toward their destiny.
Hopefully, they all made it safely down to the sea and out in the world for long and happy lives.
And then back we walked. Not one single seashell. NOT ONE.
How to get there:
There’s another side of California that you might not know about.
Sandwiched between the manicured lawns of upper middle-class residential subdivisions in SoCal, there’s a microcosm of humanity living in the shadows — migrant laborers from Mexico in makeshift camps.
In my own neighborhood, just minutes from the beach and overlooking chaparral-studded canyons, hidden behind purple sage and giant coyote bushes, we recently went for a hike and found evidence that suggests there are still active encampments.
Mostly these men are invisible, ignored by us as we speed up and down our streets, shopping, caring for our families, and only sometimes do we notice these shadow people standing on the roadside waiting to be picked up for day work or at the local liquor store buying twelve packs of beer and money orders.
Like the crows that fly in and out of our trees in a raucous cacophony, there’s an exodus out of the canyons at dawn and back at sunset.
Whatever side of the undocumented worker discussion you’re on, it’s a blight on our supposedly civilized society that in 2015, in this country of overabundance and excess, men and women live in the bushes without benefit of safe shelter or even running water.
When you scratch off the thin veneer of Pilates classes, weekly mani-pedis and facials, that fifty dollar bottle of pinot noir, and glance beyond Anthropologie and Sur la Table, in the hills behind The Forum, and probably most of the other open spaces that are clinging to life — that’s where you’ll find them.
It doesn’t seem quite fair for us to have so much while others are living in squalid conditions.
It’s sad, don’t you agree?
We especially liked the misspelling. There’s a certain poignancy.
There were several white rags hanging from trees along a certain path; we assumed it was to mark the way when it was dark.
I think this is a creek, or it could be runoff from all of the developments.
Hard to see the turkey vulture among the clouds.
Do you know who and what lives beneath the surface in your neighborhood?
From Kirk’s Facebook page
The loss of a child cannot be fathomed.
Who could ever be prepared for their child to die before them? There must be endless tears and sorrow and sadness and a forever and unrelenting pain.
For me, it’s a pure and simple matter.
If I never heard my son’s voice again or was never able to wrap my arms around him, I don’t know if I could take another breath.
…On Wednesday, November 13, 2013, Kirk Passmore, 32, a passionate big-wave surfing veteran and Hawaii resident, is presumed to have drowned and as of today his body has not been found.
One minute he was alive, surfing an estimated 20-foot wave at Alligator Rock on Oahu’s North Shore, with an audience of other surfers and photographers. He dropped into the steep face of the wave before falling over the front of his board and into the water. The top of the wave crashed over him and witnesses say he surfaced for a brief moment before he was crushed by another wave.
It was the last time anyone saw him.
Although extensive searches have been conducted in the area, he’s been missing since the day of the accident and is presumed drowned.
It was all caught on video. This is the video of his last wave. Somehow he never made it out alive.
His dad wanted the his final ride shared with as many people as possible.
Maybe you heard about this. Maybe you were watching the news on television and you paid scant attention to the story while you were on the computer or eating dinner.
Maybe you read it on the internet and saw the pictures or the video.
You probably thought to yourself or even said out loud, ” Wow, that’s really sad.”
Kirk Passmore.
Why am I writing about him?
Yes, it’s true that he was someone’s child, brother, friend.
But he was also one of my son’s friends.
They went to school together.
He’s the first (and so far, only) of my son’s friends to die.
Kirk had the biggest smile and the reddest hair. Everyone called him “Fanta” or “Red”.
He was one of the many boys I’d chauffeur around, packed like sardines in the back seat, all gangly legs and arms, endlessly stuffing their mouths — bottomless pits of growing boy bodies– with the cookies and smoothies and other snacks cheerfully provided to everyone who came over.
A carful of boys talking about school, skateboarding; laughing, always smiling, always a thank you for the ride as he slammed the car door.
“See ya, Jason.”
A flash of bright red hair lit the way as he ran up the walkway to his house.
But no more.
I bet for most of these boys – and I still call these thirty-somethings BOYS because to me they will always and forever be “the boys” or “the guys” — my son’s friends from Kelly Elementary, Valley Junior High, and Carlsbad High School — this is their first experience with death and subsequent thoughts of their own mortality.
I feel so badly for his family and his friends who are mourning him with candlelight vigils, surf paddle-outs, tributes, and memorials.
To honor Kirk, they’re handling their pain with grace and beauty.
One of them, artist Bryan Snyder, created a memorial wall in our town. If you’re ever in Carlsbad, check it out.
Bryan Snyder
Our deepest sympathies go out to Kirk’s family. Our hearts are heavy and we are so very, very sorry for their loss.
The Passmore family released the following statement:
Kirk was born February 11, 1981 in Orem, Utah. He grew up in Carlsbad, California and graduated from Carlsbad High School in 1999 where he was a member of the school’s surf team for four years. As a youth, he was active in pop warner football, little league baseball, and basketball but his love was in surfing.
He started coming to Hawaii when he was 14 and was an experienced and expert surfer. He was not new to big wave surfing, having surfed most of the well-known big wave locations, including Waimea Bay, Sunset Beach, Pipeline and outer reefs on the north shores of Hawaii. He was a familiar face at Todos Santos off Baja California. He also surfed Maverick’s in northern California and Puerto Escondido in Mainland Mexico. He spent 3 years in the southern coast of France. He moved to the north shore of Hawaii full-time in the spring of 2012.
Kirk was a part owner of Third Stone Surfboards in Waialua, Hawaii and a Manager at Bonzai Sushi in Haleiwa, Hawaii.
He is survived by his mother, Diane Passmore (Orem, Utah), father and step-mother, David and Karey Passmore (Sunset Beach, Hawaii), siblings, Alyson Adams (Highland, Utah); Merrily Roberts (Encinitas, California) and Matthew Passmore (serving an LDS mission in New York, New York).
The family wishes to thank the Coast Guard, the City and County of Honolulu lifeguards and Fire Department who continue the search.
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 
