Farmin' works up a powerful thirst

Saturday was sunny and beautiful, a nice day for a job interview. I think it went well. If nothing comes of it, at least I got to eat lunch at Cafe Pesto with an interesting person. She said she'd call sometime this week to let me know about the job.
Meanwhile, today I learned that the Hawaii Island Journal is going to print one of my stories next issue - as it's cover story. Cool! It took 'em long enough.
Sunday was Ron's big day; the big 6-0. Wow! First, he did a little farm work, tilling up some dirt on his trusty steed(aka the tractor). Then we went to Luquin's (where we always go) in Pahoa. There, we drank mango and guava margaritas, ate a boatload of heavy Mexican food, then came home to take a long, digestive nap. It was a very satisfying day for me. I think he enjoyed it to. I know Mr. Sox relished his snooze while we were away on such a warm, sunny day.

We've got zucchini coming out our ears, as you can see here.

This morning, our neighbor's baby goat was crying a little and I snuck up to shoot his photo.

Cute, yeah? He's crying less and less these days, so I think he's adjusting. Still, he's so little. Poor guy! Shoots. He's just a kid! The blurry bumper sticker you see on the car behind him says, "Cook rice, not ice." That's a reference to crystal methamphetamine. Ice is what they call meth here. Hawaii has one of the worst meth problems in the U.S. I think it ranks second only to Oregon. Crackdowns, public information campaigns and legislation to make the ingredients more difficult to obtain have helped. In most states, ease of manufacture is the biggest problem. Here, most of the drugs are imported from Mexico, so trafficking is a bigger problem than "cooking" the stuff. Just before we moved here, two men who lived just up the road from our house were hauled off to the huscow for distribution of the stuff. It was a big bust, with the FBI, ATF and Hawaii County Police all involved. They also confiscated lots of guns and money. Those guys are now serving eight years in the big house, in California. Good riddance!

That reminds me of a t-shirt I saw some time ago that struck me as funny. It said, "Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms" in big, bold letters. Then, in small print below that it asked, "Who's going to bring the chips?"

Today, I officially took on the volunteer responsibility for doing public relations for the local Hilo chapter of the AAUW (American Association of University Women). Ron keeps calling it the American Association of Union Women. He thinks he's pretty funny. At least one person does. Anyway, I think it will be fun, if I can just remember how to write a press release.

A hui hou. Aloha!

Comments

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

Search This Blog