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.
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.
Did everyone survive 11/11? Are we all freshly intentioned, manifested, and affirmed? I hope so.
I don’t know if I can blame planetary energies or if I must simply and honestly accept full responsibility for the calamity that unfolded for ME yesterday. After watching a few DIY haircutting videos, I THOUGHT it looked easy enough to try a “wolf cut” hairstyle. It’s a cut that works great on curly hair. However easy the videos made it seem, it was for me completely deceptive.
I’m NOT posting any pics, but you can believe me when I say that it was a disaster. I was lucky enough to schedule an emergency appointment with my hair stylist next week, and have total faith in her ability to repair the damage, even as she’s shaking her head while examining my failed attempt.
Today I’m keeping myself far, far away from the temptation to chop off more hair. Since we might actually get rained on in the next few days, I fertilized the lawn and raked up some of the leaves from the mulberry tree. They’re continuing to change color, dry up, and fall to the ground.
As above…
So below…
I love the sound and feel of crunchy leaves, don’t you?
My new obsession-mission was to locate and purchase the perfect neck lanyard for my cell phone.
I misplace my phone on a daily basis and if that’s not bad enough, I dropped it in the toilet last week. Although it’s surprisingly, actually, completely FINE after that mishap, it made me realize that I need to be more closely tethered to that little rectangle.
Being sick was the perfect time to do an obsessive amount of research about around-the-neck cell phone lanyards, and there’s a lot to learn.
So many decisions! Do I want flat straps or round cords? What’s the best method to attach to my phone? What degrees of sturdiness and stability are necessary, and what’s my price point?
Phone neck lanyards come in a variety of prices, from a low of five dollars to a high of $100+ for a Bandolier brand.
Did I want to order from Amazon or actually walk in a store and SEE the product in person?
I decided that I needed a sturdy metal attachment because I’m tough on my phone–not only do I often misplace it, but I constantly drop it, thankfully not in the toilet (that was special).
I stopped at Best Buy at a not busy time and two employees took the time to show me what THEY use and like. I appreciated their input and endorsement of a brand I was leaning toward simply from my exhaustive research.
Of course it had to be the right color because fashion MATTERS in EVERYTHING. I opted for a bluish-purple hands-free lanyard that works great as a crossbody holder for me.
Even better, those really kind employees further helped me by popping off my phone case and installing it, definitely going above and beyond in customer service.
Since I’m a VERY thrifty grandma, this one was pricier than the cheapest one I found, but the Casetify brand I chose is sturdy, well-made, and comfortable to wear.
Honestly, I don’t know how I survived without this handy accessory.
I’m not talking about the dark night of the soul burdensome self-condemnation kind of regret, but I was randomly thinking about how sad it is that when we grow up, people stop asking us who we’re going to be for Halloween.
There was always a great deal of excitement around this conversation, “Who are you going to be for Halloween?” or “What are you going to wear?”— whether we dressed as a witch or a ghost or a princess or a superhero or a pirate. It’s a way to step outside of ourselves for a couple of hours, to escape into an innocent fantasy.
Some might claim I’ve never grown up and that’s simply not true. There’s a difference between being childISHly puerile and one-dimensional as opposed to the open-hearted ability to discover and appreciate simple, joyful, childLIKE pleasures in life. That’s a good thing, in my opinion.
For Halloween, I’m never scary. I usually dress like a princess (of course) but next week I’m going to be a ballerina. I hauled out my sewing machine and made a longish sparkly pink tutu with a tulle overlay, reminiscent of Les Sylphides.
I’ll adorn myself with pink ballerina earrings (an unexpected treasure from Goodwill), my toe shoes and a tiara, so I’m really going to be a princess ballerina.
Virtue signaling: a public expression of opinions or sentiments intended to demonstrate one’s good character or social conscience or the moral correctness of one’s position on a particular issue.
Take note of how often virtue signaling consists of saying one “hates” things.
It’s another way to convey that someone feels superior to another.
I recently experienced being victimized by virtue signaling, which I feel is REALLY annoying.
Here’s the story:
I attended an event and a couple of women and I were chatting well after it was over. We decided to get together the following week for coffee/tea and continue the conversation since it seemed as if we had common interests.
When we met, we started talking about all the usual things: our personal histories, our children, education, and what we like to do for fun.
When it was my turn to share, I mentioned how much I love to shop. For me, shopping is truly therapeutic. I don’t necessarily mean I have to spend money to reap the benefits; I enjoy looking at pretty things whether it’s for me, for someone else, or finding special presents for the Angel Kids.
And it’s the truth. While I love to garden and bake (for the kids) and a (sometime) community activist, going to stores brings joy.
Well…my innocent confession set off a chain of negative comments…”I hate shopping.” “I never shop if I can help it.” “Shopping is a waste of time.” “I wear my clothes until they’re worn out like rags.”
Virtue signaling 101.
“Shopping is buying into the patriarchy.” OKAY, they didn’t actually go that far, but the spewing of hatred for my pastime wasn’t very nice at all. I felt personally attacked.
What I detected by those comments was their close-minded conspicuous, self-righteous, lofty, superior moral viewpoint with the intent of communicating their BETTER-than-me attitude.
The subtext was that I was a frivolous naive one-dimensional superficial fairy-like creature who doesn’t dwell nearly enough on the somber, grim, seriousness of life. Like they do.
To look down on someone with disdain and contempt for sharing what they do as a leisure activity or distraction is judgmental and close-minded.
I didn’t ridicule THEM for NOT liking retail therapy, although the snarky side of me privately thought that they could both benefit from some (teehee).
I have found this experience to be something I’ve endured several times in my life, and recently. It’s like a moral badge of righteousness for some women to declare how much they hate shopping. “I don’t shop.” “I don’t care what I wear.”
Well, I DO. I love treasures and bargains as much as l love to look at Gucci handbags and Chanel jewelry, not with envy and longing, but with appreciation for the beauty of the craft.
The lesson I learned that day was that I didn’t really have anything in common with mean-spirited people, so they won’t be my new BFFs and I won’t be joining them again for coffee. That wasn’t the only personality difference, though. They had detached parenting styles while mine is more drone-like and very much attached. Their own parents weren’t like mine; they both had complicated and angry issues with their mothers and lots of complaints. I couldn’t relate as mine has been dead for a long time but I miss her every day.
“Whence October is upon us, There shall be magic in the air, why it shall be everywhere. All ye leaves shall fall as Autumn does call. And as the faery folk are now gathering up and foraging, tonight I shall be leaving them a wee offering. Why, I shall leave them a few freshly hand picked Bramble berries & a wee tipple of Whiskey, Oh why how merry they shall surely be.” –Athey Thompson
First I’m hot and then I’m freezing. I confess that I’m having a hard time locating the magic in October. Not yet.
Because I wasn’t very smart last year and didn’t get a pneumonia vaccination, I ended up really sick with the most horrible case of double (bi-lateral) pneumonia, so bad that but for the fact that I’m incredibly stubborn, I would have been hospitalized,
THIS time I got the vaccination, reluctantly, because I always endure side effects for about thirty-six hours: headache, chills, fever. Most people only experience a sore arm but my immune system likes to give me a more ambitious taste of reality.
That’s why I’m now wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa, drinking ginger tea and binge-watching my new obsession, Blue Heelers, an Australian TV show from the 90s about the daily lives of Victorian police officers working at a police station in the fictional small town of Mount Thomas.
I think I’ve pretty much exhausted all the available British shows, so I had to search in a completely different hemisphere. Yes, it’s outdated with the gigantic brick-like cell phones, floppy disks, and scrunchies, but I’m learning a lot of new words like “mozzy” for mosquito, “esky” for Eskimo cooler, “slab” for six-pack of beer, “good on ya” and “you beauty“. I had to look up “it’s my shout, mate” to learn it means whoever said it will pay for the next round of drinks.
Previously my DIL and I loved A Place To Call Home, Rake, The Newsreader, The Doctor Blake Mysteries, and of course, Bluey.
I’m bracing for more vaccinations next week because it’s better to have a robustly active immune than the alternative. The first Covid vaccine sent me immediately to urgent care with an allergic reaction (read about that here) but the rest of them have been well tolerated except for the thirty-six hours of subsequent hell.
At one point, Angel Boy 2.0 would often ask me to do something for him; for example, he’d ask me to reach something or make him breakfast or a snack or to play MagnaTiles, anything really, and he would become incredibly impatient if it didn’t happen RIGHT THIS MINUTE.
As an impatient type myself who wants everything RIGHT NOW, I totally understood.
Instead of getting angry or telling him to wait, I started to say, “BLINK.”
It was enough of a distraction the first time I said it that he stopped and said “WHAT?”
I repeated myself, “Blink.” I mean do it, really BLINK YOUR EYES, OK?”
He blinked and looked at me.
I said, “Did anything happen? Am I magic? Do I possess magical abilities?”
He slowly shook his head…nope. (I’m sure he thought his grandma was totally cray, and he might be right, but he was engaged and interested.)
“Well, I wish I could blink my eyes so that what you want would happen in the blink of an eye, and since it obviously did NOT, it’s going to take as long as it takes. What do you think about that?”
He laughed and I did, too.
It must have been the perfect response for him because we’ve continued the tradition.
“BLINK! Did it happen? Nope, not for me either. I’m still not magical, I guess, still only human.”
It was a more fun way to get my point across that he could be a LITTLE more patient. I think I got the idea from watching Bewitched. Although I can’t twitch my nose like Samantha, I can blink my eyes.
Angel Girl recently did the same thing as I mended a torn dress for one of her dolls. Watching me, she kept impatiently repeating, “Are you finished, are you finished, why is it taking you so long?”
“Blink, girl. Blink your eyes. Is your doll all sewn up yet?”
She blinked and shook her head while her brother nodded with all the wisdom of his 7.5 years.
“See”, I held out my hands. ” I’m not magic. These hands of mine can only sew one stitch at a time and if you want me to do a good job, it’s going to take as long as it takes.”
It’s not like I have the powers of Bianca in Wishenpoof, the story about a young fairy girl who grants children’s wishes, although SOMETIMES I do swirl my arms around and say “Whish” like she does in the show, but sadly, I’m still not magical. Not at all.
No matter how many times I blink MY eyes, I’m only human.
It’s all going to take as long as it takes. Lesson learned. 🪄
I knew it would happen again, and sadly it did, at the EXACT same location. It's not a good outcome when emergency vehicles stay on-site for more than an hour.
Another update...After talking to a couple of local police officers, and at their suggestion, I called the traffic division. When someone returned my call two days later, I can't say she was all that interested in my near-death experience but gave me some mollifying type of assurance that she'd request enhanced patrols on the weekends at that busy intersection. It was a spectacularly unsatisfying conversation. I felt placated and patronized. I have every belief that nothing will change, someone else won't be as agile as I was and they'll have a more tragic outcome to deal with.
Quick update: Is there something in the water here? Just now as I was grocery shopping, yet another almost collision occurred. The lanes I was driving in had no stop signs or a light, but the cross street had a stop sign. There were two lanes and a couple cars and I were traversing in the same direction when a car that SHOULD HAVE STOPPED and waited for us decided for some unknown reason to NOT stop. If we hadn't both been going slow and able to swerve safely out of harm's way, there would have been a collision. I swear, you could probably have heard my horn on the east coast. The errant driver yelled, "Sorry!" but that doesn't change the fact that it's dangerous to be a pedestrian OR a driver. The moral of the story is to be extra careful, extra cautious, and alert!
I think I just used up about four of my nine lives on Sunday. Without being accused of being melodramatic, it was the closest to death I’ve ever been.
I woke up around 6:30 a.m. because I heard a really loud diesel truck idling outside, which is unusual around here.
When I ran downstairs and looked out the living room window, the street in front of my house was filled with the bright flashing lights of fire engines and paramedics. I watched as they took away my neighbor strapped on a gurney, but I don’t know what actually happened.
A similar thing occurred last week to the neighbor on the OTHER side of my immediate neighbor; paramedics and even police cars were there for a couple of hours. So far, I don’t have any intel on that event, either.
I think these odd episodes set the stage for what (almost) happened. Could it be due to cosmic forces and planetary tumult? Don’t things happen in threes? I think I heard that somewhere.
Anyway…
There was surprising and UNforecasted welcome rain last night and it left behind much cooler temperatures, so I decided to walk to the beach.
I was almost there and stopped to cross the street at a well defined four-way stop and pedestrian crosswalk. (That’s at Garfield and Tamarack if you’re from my town.) There were stopped cars at three of the stop signs. Knowing there are distracted and horrible drivers everywhere, I pay careful attention to stuff like that.
I began to cross and as I approached the middle of the intersection walking north, the SUV that had been stopped at the stop sign going south, just started going like a bat out of hell, making a speeding left turn, directly at me, as if I was invisible or something. Which I’m NOT.
There was no real time to think about avoiding being hit because in that split second, I knew I was going to be badly injured.
What I recollect and what four witnesses corroborated, was that at the point of NEARLY being impacted by this accelerating vehicle, I actually slapped the side of her left hood with my hand and did a very ballerina-like twirl to avoid being hit. The SUV almost touched me as I evaded the collision. There was truly about an inch between me and the vehicle, an INCH!
I didn’t call the police because not one of us could get her plate number since she sped off as I believe she realized what she had done. It was a woman in a ubiquitous white SUV, and there are literally a million of those around here. We couldn’t identify any specific make or model because it all happened so fast.
People came out of their houses to see if I was OK. They said it looked as if I had been hit. I was a bit shaky and shocky from all that adrenaline so I sat down for a few minutes and had a glass of water.
The four witnesses high-fived me (really!), commented on my agility and how that saved me from serious injuries. They said they had never seen anything like it because the impact seemed unavoidable. They were also suitably charmed by the string of unfiltered expletives that I hurled at the driver as she sped away.
I’m beyond grateful for those many years of ballet training because if I hadn’t reacted like that, I can’t even imagine how many broken bones and internal damage I’d have to heal from. The whole thing probably took less than five seconds and as quick as it was over, it also felt as if it was happening in slow motion — all very strange.
There are two ways to think about it. Either it wasn’t my day, or it really WAS my day. I can’t for sure say it wasn’t divinely scripted. Do angels exist? Did angels intervene? I really need to stop and think about it.
I feel like I’ve used up several of my nine lives – I only hope I have a few more. There’s so much to be grateful for, that’s for sure.
I finished my journey, took a photo of the ocean, calmed down, and walked back home without any further scary experiences.
There it is, the peaceful serenity of our Pacific Ocean. Sadly, there weren’t any whales or dolphins, but it’s still an eternally beautiful and nourishing sight.
Reaching my destination almost killed me, but I persisted, prevailed, and live to tell the story.
Yesterday’s bizarre event gives a whole new meaning to dumpster diving.
Driving home from a few errands, I was about a block away when I noticed a GIGANTIC truck blocking the street, backing a GIGANTIC dumpster into someone’s driveway.
I first thought to myself, “I wonder who’s getting some work done” and then I thought it seems to be right next door, which is weird cos they’re having their first baby any day now and nobody would begin a major remodeling project with a newborn to care for.”
As I got a bit closer, I said to myself, “HOLY SHIT, THAT”S MY HOUSE.”
The driver began to unload the massive dumpster as I drove up and from my car I frantically (as you can imagine) told him to STOPSTOPSTOP!
I jumped out (after snapping a photo) and asked him what the heck did he think he doing and he needed to take it away IMMEDIATELY.
He showed me the work order which definitely had MY address, but the account name was my neighbor who lived three doors up the street. I guess it was a typo or a careless, not-very-thorough employee who didn’t do his/her due diligence.
We both walked down the street to double-check with said neighbor who confirmed that they ordered it and with a bunch of apologies to me, the driver successfully deposited the dumpster where it was supposed to go.
If I had been just one minute later than I was, I would have come home to an absolute disaster, a true dumpster diving nightmare! Timing is everything.
As it was, I’ll never get back the twenty minutes of my life I spent on the phone with the company to make sure that I wasn’t charged for a dumpster I didn’t request.
After that, I needed to take a few deep breaths, calm down, and lower my blood pressure…disaster BARELY averted, thank goodness.
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 