Island exploration is our forte

The fun just keeps coming here with mom on the rock. On Sunday, we shopped for swim suits. A Phillips screw driver hammered into my ear would have been more enjoyable. Once I'd exhausted all the likely contenders (none of which I purchased), we moved on to jog bras. Much easier. There were a few alternative styles I'd never tried before and, having taken up residence in the fitting room and feeling quite cozy in there, I opted to try them on. Mom ferried them to me from the rack. She passed one through the door that looked a little small. Idiot that I am, I tugged it on anyway, trusting that she'd chosen the right size, never thinking to check it before donning the dud. Jeepers! I thought I was going to need the jaws of life to get the thing off. Some serious jumping was required to gather enough momentum to break free. Anyone who's ever tried to remove a really sweaty one knows what I mean. Just then, she arrived at the door with several more.

"Here," she said. "These are the water kind."

"The water kind?" I was perplexed. I'm a jog bra junkie. I had never heard of the water kind.

"I guess the kind you can swim in," she said.

I grabbed the bundle. They were all the same color; sea green. The dangling tags shouted, "Aqua," in bold print.

"What are you laughing about?" I heard her say from outside.

"I'll tell you when I come out," I said. Aqua the color, not the function. Don't you just love my mom?

Yesterday, we meandered through the Hawaii Tropical Botanical Gardens at beautiful Onomea Bay. It seems every business is cutting costs these days, and this place was no exception. They used to provide complimentary insect repellent at the trail head. Now, you have to buy a bug-off towelette in the gift shop for $1.50. Being the frugalistas, a.k.a. cheapskates that we are, we opted to forgo protection. Big mistake. That's just a life lesson for you kids out there. Always use protection. It's a buggy world. Ankle welts aside, it was still a nice stroll on a lovely day. The foliage was lush, colorful, grand. Think Jurassic Park without dinosaurs. We also enjoyed some ono grinds on the lanai at What's Shakin,' a little smoothie and sandwich place along the scenic loop.

Mom and I were chatting about a friend with a successful business as we drove the highway home. This was the night before, on the way home from Kona.

"Sounds like she's found her forte," Mom said. She pronounced it fort, like Fort Carson or, "Let's build a fort." So I asked, "Isn't it fortay?" And she said she knew an English instructor, from England no less, who told her that everyone pronounces it wrong and that it is in fact proper to say fort.

"If everyone pronounces something wrong," I asked, "does that not, by default, make it right?" Devil's advocate. That's my forte. She sensed logic in my question, but insisted that no, if an English professor from England pronounces it fort, then fort it must be.

Today, she bought us a new microwave! Wow! Ron's been managing her money, so now she has more than we do. We've lived well enough without one for some time now, so it will feel like fine luxury to warm my tepid coffee in the morning, to nuke my soup, to zap some spuds. It has a browning feature, too. Awesome! Crispy is good.

A hui hou. Aloha!