Will work for eggs

Speed bumps. You know them, those jolting bars of raised blacktop placed across roadways or in parking lots to control drivers' speed. Today, I traveled a long, lonely road to my pal Steve's farm. He wants me to write some copy for his new website. I've been buying his jams and jellies for a couple of years now. Anyway, I couldn't help but noticing the placards warning motorists along the way of those sharp rises in the pavement. Diamond shaped and yellow, they look like yield signs but say, "speed hump." That's what they call them here. Speed humps. What an image. There are some in things in life that should not be rushed and humping is one of them.

Steve has tiny dogs that dart around in front of the car as you pull in through his gate. I stopped, of course, for fear of hitting them, and the gate closed on my car door. It's a thrash and bash mobile, so no harm was done. He waved me in, shouting, "Don't worry. They're fast. They'll get out of the way. We've already flattened all the dumb ones." Steve's a humorous guy.

He gave me a dozen eggs today just for driving out to chat with him. We'll be discussing further compensation later - a chicken, more jam, other sundry and intriguing herbs the likes of which I have not sampled in 30 years. Hey, it's Hawaii. There may even be some cash in the deal. Meanwhile, I couldn't help but feeling a bit like a 19th century country doctor.

A hui hou. Aloha!

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