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Showing posts from April, 2008

Heading home

My nose is finally thanking me after so much of torture. After several days in the semi-arid climate of springtime Gunnison followed by a night in bone-dry Phoenix, the bleeding has finally stopped. As I sit here at a communal computer terminal killing time in the Honolulu airport (at 20 cents per minute, no less), the warm, humid air is healing the surface membranes and soothing my sinuses. Aaaaaaaah ! Is it possible to claim two hometowns? I'm sure I'm not the first to try. I suppose you can claim as many as you wish, depending on the size of the carbon footprint you are willing to stomp on the earth. I claim both Gunnison and Hilo as mine. They are wildly different places, yet have some stiking similarities. In Gunnison , of course, you say, "howdy" or "how's it goin '?" to passers by. In Hilo it's, "aloha" or " Howzit ? How you stay?" In Gunnison , my hair is a little wavy, but mostly straight. In hilo , it's bor

Furry squatters

Greetings from Colorado, the forest green Subaru capital of the world. I'm here, rattling around in my cabin with only a small table, two chairs and a futon mattress for furniture. Still, it's good to be back in my old stomping grounds. The spring wind is trying hard to suck the rain forest moisture from my every pore. Too late. California already did that. It's been good to spend time with my BFFs in CA. They've all been great support. The weather's actually borderline balmy here in Gunnison . It was a brutal winter for folks here. I think I'm glad I missed that, although I guess the powder on the mountain was epic. Now that the snow is melting and the mercury is rising, people act a little like they've just been let out of prison after a long sentence. The cabin is a little worse for the wear. The snow bent the iron railing that frames the front porch and the north fence is sagging in the moisture laden pasture. Otherwise, it's all good.

Rainy day lunch with my neighbor

Ron claimed to have tried Sombat's on a trip he made here before we actually moved. He said it was, "terrible." Yet all I've heard from locals here was that it was ono, excellent and according to some, "da bes'" Thai food in town. My neighbor Kathy and I ventured down there for lunch today and I must say, it was pretty ding dang good, gun funnit. Ron admits he might have been thinking of another place. He says now he doesn't think he actually ate there. He's da kine lolo l'dat. Kathy and I enjoyed a shrimp veggie dish with peanut sauce and something they call "coco soup," which is a coconut milk-based taste treat, loaded with fresh veggies, curry seasoning and in our case, chicken. We also each indulged in a Thai iced tea. Not so good for the cholesterol count, but yummy. The weather has turned back to.... you guessed it. Rain. Go figure. Right here. In the rainforest. Who'da thunk? What's the world coming to?

Goodbye old paint

Whenever I embark upon a project, I envision how it's going to go long before I begin. When I actually start, it never goes exactly how I imagined. It's alway way more challenging and time consuming than I expected. Still, projects can be satisfying, especially if each little milestone toward completion is appreciated and savored. So it is with my long overdue plan to spiff up my kitchen. It began Sunday with painting the ceiling. That has to be done before anything else. So up the ladder I climbed. The cottage here is plantation style, with horizontal slats spanning large, vertical wood beams. The wood beams are dark brown; the slats are white. A long handled roller won't do. The work must be done up close, by hand. I started with the white. The iPod was acting up a little, so my inspiration was the local classic rock radio station. Each section between beams took about two hours. I managed to finish three. Only seven sections to go.... I think I got nearly

Halema'uma'u, it's a gas!

It's high drama at the winery these days. Business is down, so hours are being cut and pennies pinched. It's partly because of the recession and the fact that we've lost two air carriers to Hawaii in the past week. It's also because of Halema'uma'u . That's the crater in Volcanoes National Park that's been billowing volcanic gases. While Pu'u O'o vent sends lava to the ocean, Halema'uma'u is belching big time, rumbling like a freight train and generally acting like a volcano about to blow. It's unlikely to explode ala Mt. Saint Helens . It has, however, been spewing ash that resembles glass shavings into the air with such force as to travel through the air to Pahala , 20 miles away. People are leaving more offerings to Pele than she's seen in decades. I may head up there tomorrow and leave a head of cabbage and a Corona. Hey, those are two of my favorites.... (By the way, I stole this photo from images provided on the

A nice day on the island

It's back to life as usual here on Hawaii island. Today, we made a pilgrimage to Costco for toilet paper and other sundries. We also bought ourselves a Christmas present. Better late than never.... Ron and I have been living with a tiny, 20" set with a grainy, slightly off-color picture forever. So today, we bought ourselves a new T.V. Funny. It didn't look so big in the store. Now that it's here, however, it seems enormous. We're going to have to re-arrange the furniture in our tiny hovel so that we can sit a little further away from it. It's awesome! For the last couple of weeks, I have been eating as though I possess the metabolism of a teenage boy. When my dad was in the hospital, I actually forgot to eat. Now, I can't seem to stop. It's very comforting, but it's also fattening. Starting tomorrow, I must find something else satisfying to do. Writing this blog is one such activity. It's been a bit crazy around here, what with t

Aloha to my dad

It's been several weeks since my last blog entry. I've just returned from a sad and somewhat harrowing three weeks in Oregon. My father passed away. It all began about a month earlier, when he was diagnosed with lung cancer. He learned shortly thereafter that his cancer was advanced and had metastasized to his bones and lymph nodes. His doctor told him he might buy a little time with chemotherapy, but his prognosis was poor. Dad tried to convince himself and us that he had a great chance of beating the odds and would be around to harass us for a several years to come. Deep down, however, I believe he knew better than the doctors themselves just how very sick he was. On the morning of Wednesday, March 12, he was on his way to his first chemotherapy treatment. He had, of course, insisted on driving himself to the appointment. En-route, he suffered a major stroke, which paralyzed his entire left side. His brain was unable to send signals to the rest of his body, preventi