Shlogging through the vog

Today I blog about the vog,
which came and went all day.
I like the blog but hate the vog.
That's all I have to say.

Ah, but it didn't rain until the day was mostly pau. Yow! That was nice.

We're experiencing what's known as Kona weather, a.k.a. Kona winds. Although, the term "winds" is a bit misleading. It's more like lack of wind. The air is still and muggy. The sulfuric gasses spewing from the current eruption aren't blown away. Instead, they settle over us, like forest-fire smoke.
Today, I spent sweating while cleaning windows, washing the car and just sitting around watching football. OK. I wasn't sweating while watching football. I had already done my sweating by then. Anyway, go Broncos! Go Rockies.

Here is a collection of photos from my recent two week

trip to the mainland. We begin with images from

In-and-Out Burger, including an unflattering self-portrait. This is what happens when you scrunch your face up while shooting yourself with outstretched arms.
Next is a cool shot of clouds at 37,000 feet somewhere near the Grand Canyon en-route from California to Colorado. It was a spectacular show outside the window, with wild cloud formations and great shadows cast by the late afternoon sun.
Next is a nice shot of a pretty street in Gunnison, Colorado.

Below that, a pretty high-desert fall scene somewhere about midway between Gunnison and Lake City, Colorado.

Next, a shot of me with some wine-swilling friends in the Santa Inez Valley, California.

All in all, it was a good time.

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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