Skip to main content

Cup o' joe comin' right up

We've got our first coffee blossom. Woohoo! It's on our largest tree, which looks as though it's ready to sprout more blossoms in coming days. We may actually have enough coffee by next year to brew and share a cup. Or maybe half a cup. Factoring in all the time, sweat and money we've put into the coffee trees to date, I estimate this cup will cost roughly $30,000. And you thought that Vanilla soy latte half-calf with a twist was pricey at Starbucks. But hey, this blossom? It's a start.
It was unbelievably busy at the winery today. This, despite reports that visits to the islands are way down from last years numbers. One third of the hotel rooms on the big island are empty. Still, of the people who are here, a bunch of them decided to buy wine today. Some were buying by the case. This, after my suggestion that we offer a 10% case discount. Lots of wineries do this and plenty of visitors ask about a discount. So once again, my business genius saves the day. It's amazing what people will buy if they think they're getting even the slightest deal.
We finally got our pipe fixed; the one the Ron and I Jerry Rigged to get us by. My friend Joe from the gym just happens to be a plumber. He came with his tools, parts and skills and repaired our cracked pipe lickity split. Joe is a mostly Hawaiian and a little bit Filipino man whose middle name is Finnegan. It reminded me of a young man I once worked with at a factory job I held one summer between school years. His name was Raul Murphy. He was, as you might guess, half Mexican, half Irish. But Joe is not Irish. He explained that he is named after a dear family friend. His son's middle name is Finnegan, too. He got a kick out of sharing this story with us. Ron really liked Joe.
He also likes Anthony, our neighbor. Anthony is also a Hawaiian man. He's a big guy with a strong local accent who speaks mostly pidgin. Ron doesn't always understand what Anthony is saying to him. Yet he can joke with Anthony. Anthony actually gets Ron's sarcastic sense of humor, which many people do not.
We're harvesting fresh lettuce, cilantro and basil from our garden lately, along with plenty of zucchini. Green beans are in the ground and we ate our first ear of corn tonight. It was tiny by tasty. "Greeeeeeeeen acres is the place to be.....faaaaaaaaarm livin' is the life for me......"
Sunday was the day to power wash the back lanai. I blasted the front side of the house last week. It's a very wet job. By the time I'm finished with a section of the house, I'm soaked through to my civvies. Or, as my dad called them, skivvies. Even with the water jetting with enough force to remove paint, the spider webs cling. It's really quite amazing. If someone could invent a paint that would not allow spider webs to stick, he/she would become a millionaire.
The power washer uses a ton of water, so we only use it when it's been raining regularly. That's pretty much always.
A hui hou. Aloha!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Mom

This is my beautiful mom. She died last Sunday. For those who knew her, my heart breaks with you. For those who did not, here's an introduction to the best confidante, role model and mother a girl could hope for in life. This is the obituary I'd planned to submit to the local paper, but have opted instead to publish here. Obituary: Beverly Todd Bev -- my mom -- was a longtime caregiver, advocate, and dear friend to countless elderly in South Salem. Hers was a kind and generous spirit. She devoted much of her life to the welfare of others, giving wholly of herself and doing so always with great affection and humor. She was born Beverly Marie Steinberger in Silverton, July 23, 1938, the first child and only daughter of Art and Marie Steinberger. Her brothers called her Bevvy Buns, a nickname she grew fond of and wore proudly within the family circle as an adult. Bev attended St. Paul’s Elementary School in Silverton, Silverton High School and Marylhurst Co...
2 comments
Read more

Back at it

It's been some time since I've written. My mom died in February, and I haven't had the gumption to write much, other than a couple of feature stories for the paper and the occasional pithy email to a friend. Tonight, sitting in my favorite burger joint with a pile of fries in front of me, I dunk them into a deep pool of ketchup mixed with a hot sauce. That's how Mom liked 'em. My burger? The Spicy Hawaiian, a nod to my 808 connections. It's a brilliant combination of peppers and pineapple, a favorite on the Power Stop menu. I'm sure she'd have loved it, too. There's a bubbly beer with a lime in it. That's not a homage to anything. I just like beer. These past months, I've done little but work, search and apply for jobs. Two rejection letters have landed in my email this week. Search-and-apply has become a futile obsession. It's time for a break, at least until I hear back from all those applications still floating around out there. I am...
Post a Comment
Read more

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...
3 comments
Read more