Breathing easier with healthy kitties

I took the munchkins, aka kittens to their first veterinary appointment today. There, I learned that we have two boys and a girl. My assumption that the little shy one was female turned out to be bunk. She is a he. So I can't call her Pippi as in Pippi Longstocking, so I'll call him Pip as in Pip Sqeak. Pip Squeak Todd-Niederpruem. What do you think of that?

They are also younger than I guessed, six-eight weeks according to the vet. They got poked, prodded and fondled today, most of which they tolerated well (though that fecal test makes me squirm just to watch). Anyway, they are healthy, with the small one on the skinny side but otherwise OK. To give you an idea of their sizes, the biggest weighed in at 1.6 lbs. Next, #2, tipped the scales at 1.3 lbs. The bitty Pipster barely registered at half a pound! None of them would have made it at the local humane society. Any cats admitted there under two pounds are immediately axed. Did I mention that before? Now, how humane is that? How could I rescue them, only to have them offed by the cat police?

The doctor gave me some serious meds yesterday to smash my asthma symptoms and get me functioning again. They are so potent that I can only take them for three days without swelling up like a balloon, hallucinating and growing a pair, if you know what I mean. They're working, but I can feel the hair sprouting from my chest as I type this. I haven't coughed in over an hour,which has been oh, so nice. Maybe becoming a baritone is a small price to pay for a little air.

Ron picked all the ripe coffee cherry he could find today. That's what you see in his hands above. The gooey fruit part surrounding the bean/seed is actually sweet. The skin is bitter. We'll probably plant these.

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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...

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...

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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