I wrote this when we dropped our daughter off at college several years ago. Now that she’s living in the adult world — I still miss these things about her. We were lucky to have her sheltering in place with us for a couple of months. That was one of the good things that happened in 2020 — not COVID-19 and being locked down — but getting the chance to spend time together.
Kat at Carpinteria State Beach
We took our daughter to college two weeks ago. She looks really happy in the photos posted on FB and Instagram. She’s made new friends, is enjoying her team and coaches — and likes her classes.
My life is busy with new and old projects. But, I notice a quiet, a sort of waiting sense, that I didn’t feel before. It’s the little things about her that I miss.
Kat swimming
I miss her cracking my back. She would give me a hug, tell me to relax and say, “One, two..” and lift me up in the air before she said three. The result was cracking, popping relief.
I miss her making me laugh. Kat is funny. I love her little half smile when she knows she’s especially clever. And the crinkles around her eyes when she laughs out loud.
I miss her cleaning out my wallet and organizing it for me. She’d say, “Mom your purse is a gateway to hoarding.”
I miss her walking through the kitchen door after her morning workout asking me to make her eggs. I don’t have anyone to make eggs for right now — except my husband and me — and we rarely eat them.
I miss her cat Olive walking on the skinny end of her four poster bed while she watched Netflix on my laptop.
Baby Olive
I miss when she was very young and called yellow “lallo.” And when we’d go to the beach and she’d strip naked as soon as her suit got wet. I used to bring a bag full of swimsuits for her.
Kat in a dry suit at the beach with big brother Robert.
I miss going to the pool and watching practice, chatting with the other swim parents. That was a luxury that I took for granted.
Yes, I miss her and I hope she knows how much I love her.
Kat making an entrance into the room.
What are the little things you miss the most about your kids who have left home — or friends you no longer see very often?
After posting photos of all the gorgeous houses on the beach, I’m sharing the house we’ve rented each summer since 2018. It’s a three-block walk downhill to the beach. Behind the yellow front door is the bedroom. Upstairs is the living room, kitchen and bathroom. I think it’s cozy and cute.
We made the drive home from Santa Barbara to Arizona in eight hours. We left in the wee hours of the morning and we’re both exhausted. Kitty Olive was so glad to see us. The cat sitter took good care of her and left notes like “Olive was lonely so I petted her for 20 minutes and turned on classical music.”
Once home, I ran into all sorts of weird snafus. The lamp on my nightstand collapsed at the neck where the light bulb is. Then I couldn’t get my Bird Buddy (AI bird feeder) to charge after bringing the camera unit inside while we were out of town. Then I tried to log into my Cox app on my phone to view the outside camera — and it logged me out — and won’t let me log back in. I tried resetting the password. Nothing worked. Not even our cable TV.
I received money via Venmo and I tried to transfer the money, only to get a message that Venmo wasn’t available in my area.
My husband snapped at me over something minor. I realized we are both tired and I gracefully accepted his apology.
Everything is going haywire. It’s like our house is upset we left it alone for three weeks. The electronics are rebelling.
I decided to focus on my reactions. I can’t control many of the issues surrounding me. But I can control how I react. I closed my eyes and pretended I was sitting on the beach listening to waves.
Here are a few more photos:
The kitchen of the house we rented. I love the shabby chic decor.
The view from the patio with barbecue and table. Perfect except for electrical lines.
The cottage we rented in Laguna Beach for at least 15 years while our kids were growing up. That’s our beloved Angus on the front porch (RIP). Can you see why I’m a beach cottage fan?
How do you react when electronics seem to be working against you? What do you do to control your reaction when things seem out of control?
My favorite house on the beach where we walk each morning and evening.
Part of the enjoyment of our beach walks is looking at the houses — as well as at waves, dolphins and an occasional seal. I’m sharing some of my favorite homes, from mansions to cottages. I notice workers washing windows and gardeners working in the yards — but I rarely see people who live there.
I like the house above the best because the architectural style is similar to the house I grew up in. Lots of large glass windows, angles and shake shingles — a contemporary style from the 1970s. I also love this house because it’s private and not too showy. Then there is the tree:
The tree makes the house.
This stately home must have stunning views from the multiple decks.
Another magnificent home with lush landscaping.
I love the contemporary look of this home and the expanse of windows. They scalped the lawn yesterday, which I didn’t know was a “thing” in Santa Barbara. In Palm Springs, lawns are scalped each fall to plant Winter Rye. In the heat of late Spring, the Winter Rye dies and Bermuda Grass, which is dormant in the winter, grows back.
I like the simplicity of this A frame.
Look what is and has happened around this sweet cottage below? Last year there was a cottage next to it, but now there’s a huge crane making tons of noise.
When you get near the parking lot, the homes are smaller and closer together. There are still some cottages left, that haven’t been torn down to build modern monstrosities. This is one of my favorite cottages.
I hope you enjoyed my beach home tour!
If you owned a beach house, what style would it be? Beach cottage, White House replica, contemporary or modern?
I love how each walk at the beach can have such different views.
I’m not sure if this is a hawk or not, but it’s gorgeous. I stopped to watch it glide on the breeze.
Ashton Kutcher’s house with a small cottage in front.
Afternoon beach walk.
Keven Costner’s property has the white deck and house on the point, valued at $145 million.
The same bird from the other photo. There’s an interesting complex of homes at the opposite end of the beach.
I loved watching this Vizsla dog and puppy chase a frisbee. I missed the shots where the dog leaped into the air to catch the frisbee with the puppy trailing.
I looked up the prices of homes on this beach. The ones I found start at $20 million up to $100 million.
“Time may change me “But I can’t trace time” — David Bowie
Our first morning walk at the beach. There was something very different about it. See that rig in the ocean? Next we saw this sign:
There are oil rigs off the coast of Santa Barbara that are active — but you can barely see them in the distance. I believe they are at least five miles offshore.
On the beach below the house we rent, there are signs like the one above that weren’t around last summer. There are also signs explaining the work that’s going on. They are recapping 100-year-old oil wells a few dozen yards offshore. That’s what the barge with the equipment is for (see top photo.) They are capped but leak when storms hit. We watched two tug boats stop at the barge. Then we noticed tar clumps all over the sand.
The beaches here always have spots of oil and tar, but this year it’s much worse. We keep paper towels and “Goo Gone” next to the hose at the backdoor to clean our feet after our beach excursions.
The other change was our favorite spot for breakfast burritos in Carpinteria — which was inside a liquor store — is gone. We drove for burritos and were stunned. Someone bought the entire block on Linden Ave and demolished the buildings. I wonder what will be built?
On our morning walk on the tar blotched beach, I was relieved to see the driftwood sculpture condos were still in tact. I wrote about them on an earlier beach trip HERE.
There were a few additions this year that I enjoyed:
Words of wisdom: Be More Like My Dog!
Prince Harry lives to the left. That’s a fact. Montecito is to the left of this beach.
Kevin Costner’s $145 million home where his divorced wife refused to leave is to the right around the point.
Lots of changes going on around us. We can’t stop change. Another change: our son and his long-term girlfriend were getting married Thursday. We were flying from Santa Barbara to Oakland for the nuptials. Our son called today and has COVID. No wedding. Change of plans.
Fresh fruit at a farmer’s market in Santa Barbara.
We are leaving for vacation. I have my neighbor with new puppy Emma watching my house and a cat sitter for Olive, in case anyone wants to break in. With the stress of healthcare scares that I wrote about HERE, we’re headed to our VRBO for a few days before hopefully celebrating our first born’s wedding.
In addition to cooler weather (it was 110 today at our house) I’m looking forward to the Farmer’s Market in Santa Barbara.
There is one particular stand with plums, pluots, nectarines and peaches that I’ll visit. The fruit is unlike anything I’ve had in my life. Fresh, delicious, out of this world great. Unfortunately, my local farmer’s market doesn’t have fruit. The fruit in the grocery stores are hards as rocks. I miss the produce in California. That’s the one thing I’ll give the state. It has better produce than Arizona. Or at least I haven’t discovered where to shop.
Fish tacos at On the Alley at the Santa Barbara Marina.
After the Farmer’s Market, I hope to stop by the Marina for the best fish tacos I’ve had in my life! Seafood fresh off the boat is another treat I don’t get in Arizona.
Where’s you favorite place for vacation? Are you a beach or mountain person?
Saturday we started out with a huge walk on the beach. The plan for the rest of the day was to hang out on the beach, swim, float, read and relax. Then we’d go out for a dinner at the $15 prime rib place. We’d be leaving early Sunday morning to get our daughter-in-law Buff to the airport in Phoenix so she could fly back to Northern California.
Once we were in our bathing suits and packed our books, towels and waters, I came up with the idea to rent a pop-up tent from vendors on the beach. Shade would be a welcome addition to our day and would allow my husband to join us. His pale Irish skin is adverse to sun.
The first couple hours were heaven. We were out in the ocean together floating, bouncing over the small waves and feeling fabulous.
Eventually, my husband said he had enough sun and headed back to the condo. I sat on a towel reading in the shade, while Buff stayed in the ocean. Like my daughter said, “It’s impossible to get her out of the ocean.”
After another hour, she came running to the shade of the pop-up tent.
“I got bit by a crab!” she said plopping down on a towel, holding her foot in a panic.
I looked at her foot and their were welts below her little toe wrapping around the side of her foot.
“I think it’s a stingray,” I said.
We had experienced stingrays in Laguna Beach years ago when my husband got stung.
“I’ll go up to the condo and get hot water,” I said. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.
“Bring Advil!” she said.
I ran up to the condo and yelled to my husband, “Buff got stung by a stingray.”
We heated up three to-go cups of water in the microwave and made our way back to Buff.
She was writhing on the ground in pain, surrounded by people. Paramedics had arrived by beach motorcycle and I handed them the cups of hot water.
They motioned for me to stand back and one held her foot while the other gave her two shots in the foot. They applied a cream and then took my hot water, soaked gauze in it and wrapped her foot.
My husband asked what was the shot. The paramedics didn’t speak English, so the guy renting pop-up tents translated. It was lidocaine.
We helped Buff up to the condo and put her feet in the tub. My husband heated more hot water as hot water poured out of the faucet. She was somewhat okay until the lidocaine wore off, which was a mere 15 or 20 minutes.
I ran back to the pop-up tent and gathered our things.
The next two hours were spent heating water and helping Buff through excruciating pain. I felt like a mid-wife with my daughter-in-law giving birth. It was that bad.
Hot water kills the toxins but it has to be at least 110 degrees, so that in itself is painful. My son was on facetime telling me to get a thermometer so Buff wouldn’t scald her feet. I tried to explain that we were in Mexico and I couldn’t run anywhere closeby for a thermometer.
I went through this same stingray ordeal with my husband years before. The lifeguard told me to get hot water and explained that it would ease the pain as it killed the venom. I rushed up to a nearby coffee shop and got cups of hot water. The lifeguard said most people go to the ER, because they can’t tolerate the pain. My husband refused to go to the ER and I drove him back to our hotel with him hyperventilating in the car and me afraid he was going into a seizure. Our kids were scared to death.
I kept asking Buff if she wanted to go to a hospital, but none of us were that keen on going to a hospital in Mexico.
My husband, having gone through it, recalled the pain would ease up in about 90 minutes to two hours. He said after that, if she was still in pain, we’d take her to an ER. We were also frantically on google which substantiated our decisions.
Like clockwork, the pain eased according to schedule. We were all exhausted.
“Now you know how to get me out of the ocean!” she said.
It was paradise, until it wasn’t!
Have you ever been stung by sea creatures? If so, what type of creature? What are your thoughts of swimming in the ocean versus lakes?
Here are two bits of music we enjoyed. The first was next to the El Camaronero statue downtown, the other at the pool bar at the condo. I suggested we sit there for a few minutes hours after Buff’s pain subsided to end our trip on a better note!
