Today's agenda: buns and boobies

Today was a beautiful, if muggy day on the east side of Hawaii Island. I spent some time today sucking up dust bunnies and scrubbing plates and pans. Most of my day was spent in town, where it dawned on me that here I am, living in a place where it's 83 degrees in Mid-November. That's pretty cool (because it's warm, that is), especially since it did not rain today. It has been humid, however, making it a bit uncomfortable. Not that I'm complaining.....

Bumper sticker of the day: "Normal people worry me."

Me too....

So there I was, strolling aisles of KTA (that's a local grocery chain) when a diminutive Japanese woman notice the bakery-fresh hot-dog buns in my basket. "Oh those hot dog buns are good, yeah?" She exclaimed, pointing to my buns. "Yeah," I agreed. "Fresh baked at the store. Better than regular buns." And so it went today. I had originally gone to Safeway to buy buns, etc., but made the mistake of looking at the ingredients on the buns they carry. Both listed high fructose corn syrup at a major ingredient. Say what? So I went to KTA. They bake their own buns and are smart enough not to list the ingredients. Ignorance is bliss.

I faced the trauma of bra shopping today as well. Trying on bras is almost as horrible as trying on swim suits. It is, however, a necessary evil. That's especially true for me, since my current collection of over the shoulder boulder holders is verging on tatters. I sprung for two. Or is that four? Guess it depends on how you count 'em.

I recently learned that Google now offers an alternative portal for web surfing. It's called "Blackle." The screen background is black. Because it's black, it uses substantially less energy than the standard white background. It's a no fills option, but it works just fine for me. After driving around town today, spewing fossil fuel, it feels a little better reducing the size of my big fat carbon footprint at home.

I live in a rural rainforest. It should be quiet and peaceful. Most of the time it is, with the exception of the mooing, barking, bah-ing, squealing and shooting. Yes, shooting. Actually, the squealing usually comes after the shooting. It' goes "Bang, bang -eeeeeeeeeek!" In most neighborhoods, if you heard shooting, you'd call the cops. Here, you don't. Your first inclination is that someone is blasting pigs again. I am so0o0o0o0o0 glad I'm not a pig. Literally speaking, anyway.

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

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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