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 Web by the USGS. You can check out the latest at the Hawaii Volcanoes National Park link listed on this blog.)

I've recently heard some great news. I've been accepted to the University of Alaska's Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing program. I chose UAA among several other low-residency programs for one reason; a good excuse to visit Alaska once a year. It's also a relatively new program, which means they'll likely bend over backward to make this a positive, challenging experience. I'm excited! Oprah's book club selection, here I come!

I've been meaning to share this funny bumper sticker I saw in Oregon before returning home. On a car in the Silverton, Oregon Taco Bell parking lot was an old beater Toyota sporting a placard that read, "The reason I'm driving so fast is that I really have to poo!" Shoots, brah! I know that feeling. Pedal to the metal, all da way to da lua.

Here in Hawaii, you know you're catching on to the lingo when you understand the difference between a luau and the lua. A luau is a feast. The lua is where you go sometime after the feast. Get it?

We had some visitors in the winery today from the Czech Republic. So naturally we were joking with lines like, "Hey, Czech them out," and "Czech please." It's been slow, so simple, cheesy humor gets us through.

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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