This was chalked into the sidewalk near my lagoon. It’s been there for a while and so far no one has tampered with it, so I decided to memorialize the words in a photo. I don’t know who wrote it, but I would like to meet them, because it’s sad yet profoundly hopeful at the same time.
I am not afraid to keep on living,
I am not afraid to walk this earth (world) alone.
Photo by Enchanted Seashells
I’m at #3 with Angel Boy, #2 with Angel Girl.
I remember that the original Angel Boy was about fourteen years old when he entered the final stage, taller than me. Now I have to get on my tiptoes to hug him and HE bends down to me.
In my mind, he’s still and forever #1 or #2, so it doesn’t seem right that the roles have reversed, and it won’t be long before the Angel Kids will also be taller than me, because mostly everyone else is.
I guess that’s why they call me Little Grandma.
**I found this on Pinterest, but credit goes to artist Giselle Dekel.**
These incredibly observant Angel Kids of mine are full of nonstop chat as they watch my every move with their laser focused eyes and brains, especially when they sit at the counter (their favorite spot), waiting to be served exactly like baby birds in a nest with their beaks open wide for mom to bring a freshly caught worm..
“Why are you always in the kitchen, Grandma?” “It’s like you have a force field around you and you’re stuck in there.” (He is SO funny.)
“Yeah, Grandma, you’re always in the kitchen!” Angel Girl has to offer her opinion, too. ALWAYS.
I stop chopping veggies or flipping pancakes or cutting the crust off another slice of bread (only for Angel Girl), and respond with a question,
“Why are you guys always hungry?”
Well, that made them think a bit, that’s for sure.
“Good point”, Angel Boy 2.0 sagely nods as he ponders what I meant by that, as he chews on a slice of apple.
Those kids LOVE apples as a pre-meal snack. Sometimes dipped in nut butter, but they’re perfectly satisfied with a bowl of sliced apples.
The key is to give each of them their own bowl or they’ll squabble about equal amounts. “Why does s/he have more than me?” Since I only birthed one child, I’m not used to this kind of sibling behavior. I actually find it incredibly annoying and to avoid listening to it, for me, separate bowls are the easiest solution.
They eat a lot, not junk food or snacks, but wholesome and dense nutrition. That’s what healthy kids do; eat, play, sleep. They’re exactly like puppies. Their growing bodies and brains demand it and I’m only too happy to oblige.
“Play with us, Grandma. We’ll even play Candyland just for you. Or Scrabble.” That’s quite the concession on their part, as they know those are my two favorite games.
“How about after you guys have this smoothie and ants on a log and a (lentil/oat/kale) muffin, we’ll play. How does that sound?”
Two curly heads nod in unison.
Eat, play, sleep.
******************************************************
Featured photo by Enchanted Seashells at Crystal Cove. Vintage kitchen, not mine.
Early this morning, I opened the back door and walked on the deck. Near the steps, I saw a motionless bee which I gently nudged with a stick and found him able to move ever so slightly. I brought him a small amount of water in a jar lid and watched as he thirstily inhaled a few drops. As soon as he had enough, he stumbled down the rest of the steps to a shady area on the ground.
I’m not sure if I helped him or simply prolonged the inevitable, but at least I did something to aid a living creature and that always feels good.
Later that morning, I went to the grocery store where I picked up some yummy cherries and cucumbers and avocados.
The woman in front of me had a lot of items and it looked like she was making a special dinner, maybe anniversary, or at least that was the little story I told myself as I patiently waited my turn.
I noticed that she didn’t have her own shopping bags and I watched the clerk take out a couple “store” bags and fill them with her food. After the food was paid for, the employee asked her for thirty cents to pay for the bags, which was really odd because usually they’ll ask before, so they can add it to the total. Right??? So my spidey senses were on alert as I observed the conversation.
The lady became flustered as she looked in her handbag because she didn’t have any cash or change. I could see that she was super embarrassed and I could totally relate. It didn’t seem as if she was unsheltered or didn’t have money; she was well dressed with great jewelry (I always notice stuff like that).
I said, “Let me check. I think I have thirty cents.” I usually don’t have ANY cash or coins either, but I did locate enough to pay for her store bags.
The poor woman was beside herself with gratitude, wanted to pay me back, couldn’t believe I would do that for a complete stranger, asked me my name, WAY overly intensely thankful and appreciative for a mere handful of coins.
I told her it was my pleasure to help and it wasn’t as if I offered to buy her food (haha) and she could pay it forward to someone else in the future and keep the good deed moving along.
Because her gratitude seemed oddly disproportionate, I thought it was possible that she had a bad day and my minor act of kindness gave her a bit of hope — who knows.
She did seem close to breaking down, poor dear. And all for THIRTY CENTS! I wonder if this was some sort of low rent scam so the employee could pocket the money, but that was most likely not the case. Anyway, it was a strange encounter and I was glad to help because it did seem that was the only way I was going to get out of the store, haha. (BTW, I had my own bags.)
Sometimes I’ll see someone do a kind but simply mundane gesture and I’ll just get filled with this unexplainable joy that someone did something nice for someone else with no strings attached; no ulterior motives, no agenda.
After that experience, I went to Sprouts because I was out of probiotics (I love probiotics). The woman in front of me in line (same scenario!) turned to me. She held out a couple pieces of candy wrapped in shiny gold foil and asked me if I wanted them. She said they were free and pointed to where she got them, somewhere else in the store.
I told her how much I LOVE free things (I really do) but asked why she didn’t want them. She explained that she had tasted another one and they were milk chocolate and she only likes dark chocolate. I said I like all variety of chocolate (except white) and gladly accepted her little gifts.
Two acts of kindness were immediately repaid by another; what a great (and sweet) day!
Featured image credit to oechsli.com
This blog is exactly like my personality: random…
One minute I’m searching for seashells or a rock that speaks to my heart or I’m reveling in a designer treasure found at the local consignment shop after a day protesting that orange POS and the fall of democracy, yet at the same time, on any given day, I’m a voracious reader, whether it’s chick lit or poetry or something that catches my eye on social media, all the while obsessing over Leon Russell, Master of Space and Time. There are definitely many tabs open on my laptop screen (and in my head).
Like this…thought-terminating clichés.
How many times have you heard this (or said it)? “Everything happens for a reason.” Did you find it helpful or frustrating? I find it frustrating and not helpful AT ALL. It makes me feel the person I’m talking to either doesn’t care about what I’m saying or is trying to act superior and patronizing.
For me, that attitude completely terminates the conversation. Sometimes I respond with “Does it really? Does everything REALLY happen for a reason?” but mostly I simply stop talking. There’s nowhere to go after that; for me It’s a convo-ender.
A thought-terminating cliché is a common saying or phrase used to shut down further critical thinking or debate about a topic. These phrases often present themselves as universally accepted truths or wisdom, discouraging deeper exploration or questioning. They can be used in various contexts, including conversations, debates, and even within workplaces or religious groups.
The term was popularized by Robert Jay Lifton in his 1961 book Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism, who referred to the use of the cliché, along with “loading the language”, as “the language of non-thought”.
It’s also known as a semantic stop-sign, a thought-stopper, bumper sticker logic, or cliché thinking and is a form of loaded language—often passing as folk wisdom—intended to end an argument and quell cognitive dissonance with a cliché rather than a point. Some such clichés are not inherently terminating, and only becomes so when used to intentionally dismiss, dissent, or justify fallacies.
1. “It is what it is.” Used to dismiss any deeper inquiry into a situation or problem.
2. “You’ll figure it out.” Used to avoid helping or being asked for help. Condescending.
3. “Boys will be boys.” – Used to excuse or dismiss male behavior, often inappropriate or immature.
4. “Let’s agree to disagree.” Used to end a debate without resolving the underlying disagreement.
5. “Everything happens for a reason.” Used to shut down further questioning about why something occurred.
6.””Only time will tell.” Used to avoid making a decision or judgment about a situation.
7. “Such is life.” Used to dismiss the complexities or frustrations of a situation as being typical or unavoidable.
8. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Used to trivialize suffering or hardship without addressing its impact.
9. “God works in mysterious ways.” Used to stop questions about religious or moral issues that are difficult to explain.
10. “It’s a free country.” Used to justify questionable actions or opinions without further discussion.
11. “You can’t win them all.” Used to discourage further effort or reflection after a failure or loss.
12. “Better safe than sorry.” Used to justify overly cautious behavior without considering the consequences of inaction.
13. “Everything in moderation.” Used to avoid discussing the nuances or dangers of certain behaviors or choices.
14. “That’s just your opinion.” Used to dismiss someone’s perspective or argument without considering its merits.
15. “Let’s not rock the boat.” Used to discourage change or questioning of the status quo.
16. “This is the way we’ve always done it.” Used to resist change or new ideas without considering their potential benefits.
17. “Time heals all.” Completely puts a stop to any discussion that isn’t in agreement.
To transform thought-terminating clichés into conversation catalysts, we can create alternative phrases or questions that encourage further exploration and dialogue.
Here are some antidotes, each designed to open up rather than shut down conversations:
Curated from desireebstephens.substack.com/p/the-power-of-silence-unpacking-thought, Wiki
Back when the original Angel Boy began to walk and talk, my default response when the “I’m bored, I have nothing to do” complaints started, has always been, “Go read a book.”
Now I do the same thing to the grandkids, especially Angel Boy 2.0 who has become a wonderful reader.
Recently we were in a baseball card shop and he was TAKING LITERALLY FOREVER to look at cards and decide which ones he wanted to buy and figure out how much of HIS money he was willing to spend and how much he could get from me. That scenario brought up happy deja vu memories of his parsimonious dad at the same age. The thrifty apple didn’t fall too far from THAT tree, haha.
I walked outside, I walked back in, I pulled on his shirt and whined, “Are you almost done? I’M SO BORED!!”
Without skipping a beat, he said, “Hey Grandma, why don’t you go read a book!”
And then he laughed and I laughed but I got the last laugh because that proved that he had really listened to me. A total win for Grandma!
I gotta confess though, I was SO BORED in that card shop, every minute seemed like an hour. Memories.
It’s really funny, because the original AB is NEVER without a book and leveraged that love of reading into a Yale PhD, writing his own book (published by a prestigious house), and tenure at a major uni, so I guess my annoying mantra helped guide his path to success.
Grandma’s Mantra:
📚 If you’re bored, read a book!
📚 If you have a minute before school starts, read a book!
📚 If you’re waiting for a doctor’s appointment, read a book!
📚 If you can’t think of anything productive to do, read a book!
Try my method; it really works!
📚
Apparently, I could resist no longer. The primal pull of these Birkenstocks were too great; I succumbed to the ugly cuteness of these shoes.
What sealed the deal for me was their Hello Kitty pinkness. The style might be hideous but that color draws me in every single time.
I get it now. They are essential; maybe not as adorable as a pair of stilettos, but in their own way, they’re fashionable and even princess-y, don’t you agree?
Even better, they were on the clearance aisle at Nordstrom Rack, so I scored in my own strange, thrifty manner.
If you see me walking around with my Birks and socks, just nod and carry on.
But wait! It gets worse!! Much worse…both Angel Kids have Crocs with charms to embellish their weird looking shoes, so I became obsessed with them, too.
I found some kid-sized offbrand “crocs” for about three dollars (yay for thrifty me!) and subsequently discovered these adorable charms, so now I am officially chic/unchic. I’ve been wearing them for gardening so they haven’t been out in public yet, haha. “Mom, Grandma, Boy Mom“, how could I NOT represent my tribe???
Crocs and Birks, what the heck has happened to me? What’s next? Will I stop shaving my legs and run around naked like the hippies who lived at Taylor Camp, the 1970s commune on the island of Kauai?
Not. A. Chance. Nope. Not bloody likely. Not gonna happen. But I’ll wear the shoes…
Feinting is a deceptive or pretended blow, thrust, or other movement, especially in boxing or fencing.
Fainting, or syncope, is what I experienced a couple months ago. I definitely wasn’t feinting when I got dizzy, nauseous, fell, and hit the fireplace. The loss of consciousness felt really weird and not entirely unpleasant.
I thought it was simply an unexplained but strange incident, and finally told my doctor about it.
Her response to me was, “Of course you went to the ER, what did they say? I don’t see that in your notes.”
I replied, “Oh no, I didn’t go anywhere and I didn’t call the paramedics, either, because I was wearing my Hello Kitty jammies. No way was I going to let anyone see me.”
She shook her head and laughed as I explained to her that my RN mom had often drilled into my head that I should never EVER go to the doctor or a hospital unless I was well dressed and nicely groomed– and always with pretty underwear. I mean, there might be scenarios where that’s impossible, but her words are tattooed in my brain.
Of course I would have sought immediate medical help if it happened again, but so far I’ve been lucky.
My doc said her mom was exactly the same, so she understood. However, after asking me a lot of questions, she was concerned enough about my syncope episode to want to rule out any underlying and serious reasons, so she gave me an electrocardiogram and referred me to radiology for a carotid artery ultrasound.
The ECG looked OK and I’ve booked the appointment for the ultrasound to see how my four carotid arteries are performing. Most of the time I think I’m pretty smart but I didn’t know there were FOUR carotids–I thought there was only one, so I’ve learned something. Hopefully, we can rule out any underlying blockages to explain why I fainted. The worse case scenario is that a blocked artery can lead to an increased stroke risk or an aneurysm, but at least I’ll find out one way or another.
The best case scenario is that it was a singular vasovagal syncope episode with no lasting harm. Fingers crossed. Maybe I will actually have “feinted” and dodged a direct hit. That’s funny to think about, but then I’ve been accused of being easily amused…
Since then, my goal has been to mindfully dress for the emergency that might never happen; a personal version of disaster preparedness.
This all happened quite a while ago, but I realized I hadn’t shared it, so here’s the scary story of my almost brush with death; a cautionary tale of the time I might have starred in a Dateline episode.
I had to be somewhere very early, too early to inconvenience anyone by asking for a ride, so I called a car service. I’ll be vague about which one, but it’s one of the big guys.
It was dark; I waited outside, the driver was on time. The first thing I noticed (red flag number one) is that the car stopped and he started it up again. I thought maybe he was saving gas, so didn’t really think too much about it. We had a few stop signs on the way to the freeway and the engine stalled at every one of them and had to be started back up. (red flag number two). I was a bit concerned and that’s probably when I should have told him to turn around and found another form of transportation but I didn’t.
The driver spoke no English. I mean, ZERO. I managed to learn that he was from Colombia. I could see the Google map on his phone was in Spanish. I spoke a bit of Spanish so we were able to sort of communicate.
Finally on the freeway, his car was going VERY SLOW, well under the speed limit. The engine hadn’t stalled again, though. (another red flag.)
The driver wore very thick glasses and seemed to have a difficult time seeing the road as he was slightly weaving out of his lane. It’s a good thing that it was so early with not many cars on the road. I don’t think he was drunk; I think he couldn’t SEE the road. (red flag!)
The headlights also seemed to be malfunctioning; he’d turn them off and on and the car would sort of slow down and speed up, which was reallyreally freaking me out.
I was beginning to get a little more panicky every second, and even more so when, for some reason, he took the wrong exit on the freeway. We were in a rural area that was heavily wooded- no houses, no stores; nothing.
The very worst case scenarios were running through my head at warp speed. We were on a frontage road with no lights and no people. I thought there was a good possibility that I was going to be the victim of a horrible crime, I really did.
If the worst happened, no one would find me out in the middle of nowhere on a dark, deserted highway. I was petrified, thinking of all the horror stories I had heard about getting in cars with strangers.
Loudly, I commanded, “HEY! This is the wrong exit. GET BACK ON THE FREEWAY NOW!”
I had my hand on the door and 911 ready to be called on my phone. I was ready to bolt and run. I was terrified.
For a brief moment that seemed to last for days, he hesitated, and then, thankfully, turned around. We got back on the freeway, and at which point he was completely lost. I had to direct him the rest of the way to my ultimate destination but not before his car stalled AGAIN at the final stoplight.
I leapt out of his car while it was still slightly moving and RAN into the building. It took forever for my heart rate to subside and the adrenaline to stop pouring through my body. I was as shaky as the time I got an EpiPen for a bee sting. I had to force myself to breathe and slowly regained my calm.
There were so many red flags 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩 that I ignored. Never again!
Friends have asked me if I reported the driver. I thought about it, but I didn’t. Although it was scary, nothing bad actually happened. I was so grateful to be alive and unharmed that I wanted to forget all about it. However, I don’t think his vehicle was going to last much longer, so maybe he’ll figure out that driving people around isn’t the right career choice.
The lesson is to listen to your gut in all life circumstances. If something doesn’t feel right, it most likely is a warning that should be heeded.
I am 1000% grateful that the universe and all the angels once again protected me from harm.
Have you ever experienced a similar scary event?
Kintsugi is a Japanese method for repairing broken ceramics with a special lacquer mixed with gold, silver, or platinum.
The philosophy behind the technique is to recognize the history of the object and to visibly incorporate the repair into the new piece instead of disguising it.
The process usually results in something more beautiful than the original.
Kintsugi is rooted in the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi, which appreciates the beauty of imperfection and impermanence. It encourages embracing flaws and seeing them as part of a unique history rather than something to be concealed.
When I had my recent fainting (syncope) episode, my fall smashed one of my favorite planters. It was white, simple, pure, and had a twin, which makes my OCD happy. When I cleaned up the mess, I saved the broken pieces. I wasn’t sure what I could do with them but I wasn’t ready to toss it out, especially as it created an imbalance with its sibling.
Yesterday, finally, I decided to see if I could repair it. I used E6000 to glue all the pieces back together. I thought I could use it outside in the garden even if it was too destroyed to be brought back in the house. It didn’t look great, but then I remembered that I had a gold permanent marker.
Instead of hiding the damage, I used the kintsugi concept and revealed the beauty in its brokenness.
I love the way it looks and the rattlesnake plant is once again displayed in a perfectly, now imperfect setting.
I know you can buy kintsugi repair kits, but my little gold marker did a great job.
While traditionally used for ceramics, the philosophy of kintsugi has been applied to various aspects of life, including personal healing. It offers a perspective on how to find beauty in the brokenness and learn from life’s experiences.
Since I break things all of the time, I’m fairly certain I’ll be able to attempt more kintsugi in the future. I’m slightly tempted to break something on purpose. I won’t, but maybe I will!
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 