Friday, June 26, 2009

Sad times

I broke my own person treadmill record yesterday, jogging four miles in 45:30.  That's pretty slow by most standards, but it's Speedy Gonzales for me.  I ran to Michael Jackson as my version of a tribute, so maybe that's why the feet flew so fast.  I defy anyone to listen to Jam and not move.  

What a day; Michael, Farrah and the incessant rain.

Farrah Faucet lived life on her own terms.  She was beautiful and smart.  When faced with a terminal disease, she fought the good fight.   Cheers to you, Farrah.

I remember where I was when Elvis died.  I had seen him in concert (with my parents, no less) just a month earlier.  I can also picture the exact moment when I heard the news about John Lennon.  My friend and soon-to-be-housemate Lori and I were moving a mattress on the top of my Volkswagon Beetle to our new digs.  We were holding onto the plastic handles through open windows in a futile attempt to keep the thing from catching air as we crept along.  The two of us gasped when we heard the news on the radio.  I hit the breaks.  We stared at each other in disbelief as the words came through the speakers, tears welling, spilling, tracking down our cheeks.  The news of Michael Jackson has not hit me so profoundly as did those moments.  Maybe I've grown a wee bit jaded in my old age.  Still, like all of my contemporaries, I grew up with Michael.  I was a fan when I was 11 and I'm a fan today, ever in awe of his talent, mildly intrigued by his quirkiness.  There's little more to say that has not been hashed and rehashed over the past  24 hours, so I'll keep my commentary simple: Cheers to you too, Michael Jackson.  

A hui hou.  Aloha!






Thursday, June 18, 2009

Wonder herbs, lychee, rice and such

Not much has happened worth writing about the past week.  It's been a mixture of rain and sun, enough rain to make it squishy and enough sun to encourage the grass to grow and the blossoms to pop on the coffee trees.  There a bunch of fat apple bananas hanging from the rafters of the front lanai, waiting to ripen.  It's pretty much poured all day today, making the kitties stir crazy, wrestling on the couch, toppling the recycling bin full of soda cans on the back lanai.  The dogs are bored silly, lying around with forlorn expressions, their chins resting on the floor between their front paws.  I could have taken them for walks today in the torrent, but opted to stay dry for once.  Dry-er anyway.

This morning I ventured to Kea'au, where I shot this photo of the giant lychee tree in the parking lot.  You can just make out the ripe, red fruits.  The lychee on the bottom of the tree always gets picked, but the trees grow so tall that most of the ripe juicy beauties at the top go unharvested.   What a bummer.  I love lychee and they charge a bundle for it at the farmers' market, even though there a tree in nearly every yard in Hilo.  Must be 'cause the trees are so ding dang tall.  Next to mangos, it's my favorite local fruit.

I went to the heath food store to purchase Tumeric, a wonder herb.  It's actually a root, not an herb, in the ginger family and goes well as an anti-inflammatory with the boswellia and bromelain I'm giving Hoppsy.  It smells great, but I'm a big Indian curry lover, so others might not find the aroma so enticing.   I plan to consume some of it myself.  As I entered the store, I stopped to peruse the posters and messages on their bulletin board, just to see what's going on and what's for sale.  Sadly, I saw a familiar face.  Molly, my neighbor's dog.  She's missing, last seen in the parking lot there at the shopping center.  She either jumped out or, more likely, was taken from her person's van.  Sad.  I so hope Molly's found.  I know she and her kids love that little dog. 

Rice is cooking in the rice cooker.  I usually cook rice in a pan on the stove but since I have a rice cooker, I sometimes plug it in and let the magic happen there.  It came with the house.  The first time I'd ever seen one was when my college roommate Colleen brought one to our apartment.  She was from Hawaii and ate a lot of rice.  The thing I remember most about her rice cooker is how I accidentally ran over it.  I don't recall why it was in the driveway.  It may have been there because she was taking stuff to someone's house to cook and set it down temporarily while she ran into the house to get the rest of the stuff.   Or maybe she was bringing stuff back.  Nothing else makes sense.  I just know that I backed up and straight over the thing, making it flat as a penny on a railroad track after the train passes by.  Have you ever done that?  The penny thing, I mean.  It's pretty cool if you can manage to actually find the thing after the train passes. 
Harley likes the view from on high.  Guess the world just looks interesting from up there.

A hui hou.  Aloha!

Sunday, June 07, 2009

I'll Tumble for ya, I'll tumble for ya....

They love each other like typical siblings.  One minute they're all cuddly, like this.  The next, their initiating body slams and chomping on each others' jugulars. 

I had a bit of a start the other day.  It happened in the laundry room.  I say this like it's some far-away wing of my vast mansion.  It's a small offshoot from the kitchen.  Stooped over the edge of my top loader, I gripped and tugged at wet sheets that were wrung tight and smashed against the sidewalls inside the washer's basin, listening to Jack Johnson in the background, wondering, "Where'd all the good people go?" just like Jack, relishing the mindlessness of my chore.  Once the wad was free, I hurled it into the open dryer, slammed the door, set the timer and pushed the button.  At first tumble, I heard a loud thud and wondered if the dryer, like all my other appliances, was about to expire.  A few more bumps had me worried.  You can see where this is going, right?  I opened the door and our flew Harley, dazed.  Poor baby!  I scooped him up, checked him over, heard him purring like a Cummins diesel, decided he was fine and set him free. Crisis averted.  I hadn't seen or heard him come into the room, let alone jump in.  They can be stealthy that way, like B-2 Spirit bombers with whiskers.  Kitties.  They keep me on my toes.  I thought I was being diligent, checking all cupboards with open doors before closing them, scanning the car after bringing in the groceries to be sure no felines had gone exploring through the interior.  Looks like I've got to step it up a notch.  The good news is that he's now afraid of the machine and darts away like a goosed Cheetah when it starts.


As we all know, Roses like rain.  This one is growing in a pot that I largely ignore, sitting in my driveway.  Pretty, huh?

A hui hou.  Aloha!