Feelin' skinny at the pool

Here is a picture of the happiest dog in the world. This is my Hoppsy. She's awesome. She is smart, funny and would make a respectable center fielder on any team. Even now, at the ripe old age of nearly 11, she can snag the tennis ball right out of the air. What a champ. Oh, and did I mention that she idolizes me and worships the ground I walk on. I've got to get one of those bumper stickers that reads, "I aspire to become the person my dog thinks I am."
The other day, while swimming alongside triathlon girl, I was feeling a bit frumpy. Today, I was a cross between Janet Evans and Heidi Klum, gorgeous and fast in the water. That's because on one side was an enormous woman who could not actually swim. Rather, she walked back and forth across the pool. I give her credit, though. At least she was there. On the other side of me was a snail's pace breast stroker who did not seem to want to get her hair wet. My freestyle stroke sent me past her like
an Olympic sprinter racing a granny with a walker. Wewhoo!
When I got home, Ron was making great progress on the tractor. Together, we not only got the lawn mowed and the edges trimmed but cleared another large patch of grass. Ron is pretty sore tonight. He hasn't exerted himself much at all for over a month. So he'll be hobbling around tomorrow.
Other than that, there's not much new. This weekend we're planning a big excursion; the two hour drive to Costco! Again... wewhoo! Aloha!

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Born and bred

The creature stared at me, wide-eyed through the florescent glare, Saran Wrap stretched tight across its broad back. Alone in the seafood cooler, he was the only one of his kind, there among the farmed, color-added Atlantic salmon and mud-flavored tilapia, perched on a blue foam tray, legs tucked 'round him like a comfy kitten. He didn't blink. He was dead, red, cooked and chilled, ready to eat. Such a find is rare in the City Market fish department in Gunnison, Colorado. What if nobody takes him home? I thought. This beautiful animal will have died needlessly, ripped from his home, family and friends (Dory, Nemo, Crush and Gill?) only to be tossed in the trash when his expiration date came and went. I lifted him for closer inspection, checked that date, felt the heft of him, scanned his surface for cracks and blemishes. The creature was perfect. I lowered him back into the cooler, nodded farewell, turned to walk away, took one step, and stopped. Shoppers strolled past, stud

Fruity booty

It was a long drive from Glenwood to the northern tip of the island -- three hours -- so for sustenance, we stopped at Baker Tom's for malasadas on the way. My pal Kathy and I were headed to Kapa'au for a hike, one we'd read about in the local newspaper. The couple who run Baker Tom's (not sure if the husband is actually Tom or not) are delightful, with enduring stamina. They're as old as radio, yet they're always on duty, ready to serve behind the counter, as they have for many years, frying, baking, brewing and smiling, there in Papaikou , gateway to the Hamakua Coast. The malasadas are enormous, cheap and delicious, the coffee OK, the tourists all happy to have discovered this place, buzzing with sugar and caffeine. They make a killer pumpkin cheesecake at Baker Tom's, too. It's always a pleasant stop. Ahapua'a . It's a Hawaiian land division, usually a strip or wedge, stretching from mountain to sea. Hawaiians lived in villages wit

On Tennis and Writing and Being Too Nice

I've recently been recruited to play tennis for a local 4.0 ladies tennis league team, referred to as either "Team Debbie" for the nice woman who manages us, or "Have Fun," which is our pre-match chant. We're still looking for a proper name. But we do have fun, despite getting creamed most outings. Last Saturday, we played in the Edith Kanakaole Tennis Stadium in Hilo. Good thing, too, since outside it was pouring, complete with thunder and lightning. It's a substantial structure, covered, yet open all around, most famous for hosting the annual Merrie Monarch Hula Festival in April. It was about 85 degrees outside and 100 percent humidity, air so thick it took three sucks of my albuterol inhaler just to breath. Several of us arrived early to warm up, but after twenty minutes' steady rallying with my teammate, Keiko, the human backboard, I was drenched. I played doubles with a nice, extremely fit and excellent ground-stroker named Cynthia from Pahoa.

Mountains and Islands

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