Weekend around town

Shine on me sunshine, walk with me world it's a skipidee do da day.... She's the happiest girl, in the whole USA....
Ah but the question remains; is she actually in the USA? Oh sure, Hawaii is technically a state. But there are those here who contest that, since the overthrow of the Hawaiian Monarchy was illegal. They've got a point. Bill Clinton officially apologized.
It occurred to me after my last post that Lucy has, by far, gotten the most face time on the blog of late. So today it's Hoppsy's turn. Isn't she adorable?
Speaking of sunshine, we've actually seen some throughout the last two days. I'm glad for the reprieve from the rain, however brief.
Yesterday, Ron and I went to beautiful downtown Pahoa to check out their newly developing restaurant row. Funny thing is, most of them are closed on Sunday except for our old standby, the Mexican food joint. So, Luquin's it was. We had fish nachos. Never had those before. Very tasty.
We also dropped off our recyclables. We are fairly dedicated to that, but they certainly don't make it easy. Ron was there the other day and got chastised by a worker there for not completely flattening a cardboard box. Sheesh! He could have just dropped it into the trash and gotten no grief at all for that! Instead, he does the right thing and gets raked.
There are lots of feral cats at the recycling center/dump in Kea'au. Ironically, it's right next door to the Humane Society shelter. I have seen good Samaritans feeding them. The cats seem to peacefully co-exist with the chickens. You'd think they'd eat the chickens. Of course, the chickens are much bigger than most of the cats, so maybe that's why.
For the record, the Hawaiian word for cat is popoki. Moa means chicken. That's not to be confused with mo'a, which means cooked. Then there's huli huli chicken. Huli huli literally translates to "turn." Huli huli is rotisserie barbecued chicken. Onolicious!
The pigs are wreaking havoc in the neighbors' yards. They don't stick around our place because the dogs bark them away. They aren't very scared of people. The neighbor throws firecrackers at them and they just stand there and stare at him. He told Ron he'd shoot them, but his freezer is already full.
A hui hou. 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

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.

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

Mountains and Islands

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