Mountains and Islands

More rain. We did get our window of opportunity for a relatively dry walk this morning. That was nice. But it began to rain hard by late morning and has poured pretty much all day. It's still raining, well into the night. The fog is again as thick clam chowder without the chunks. It reminds of the toolie fog in the San Juaquin Valley of California, the stuff that causes multi-car pile ups on I-5 every winter. Yikes. The neighbor warned us yesterday that we would probably hear some shooting. It seems the feral pigs have been wreaking havoc in his yard, just generally rooting around and tearing things up. He had had enough. We did hear the shots. They were very loud. Don't know, however, if he actually got one or more of them or simply scared them off. We haven't seen them in our yard, but the dogs have heard them and bark when they do. That, I think, keeps them at a distance from our house. Speaking of dogs, Doc is due for a few vaccinations, so he will visit his new vet tom

I saw a couple of pretty funny bumper stickers yesterday. They didn't exactly exude the aloha spirit, but they made me chuckle. One said, "Welcome to Hawaii. Now go home." That one reminded me of one that became popular in Oregon during the first wave of California immigration in the late 1970s, when real estate prices went through the rough in the Golden State and people began cashing out and moving north to the Beaver State. It said something like "Welcome to Oregon. We don't care what you look like, as long as you look like you're leaving." The second sticker I saw here (on the same car, mind you) said, "Aloha also means goodbye." Finally, my favorite was, "How's my driving? Call 1-800-ainokea." What made that one even better was the fact that it was on a van with a big fat dent in the bumper. It's raining today. Yes, it rains pretty much every day. But today, it's really raining, without any let up so far. In fact, it&

Here are a few photos of the furballs, flora and fauna. First, these orchids are growing right out of the base of a Hawaiian Tree Fern. Next is Abner, gettin' cozy on the lanai. He's followed by the three stooges: Crawford, Doc and Hopps. lounging on the lawn. Finally, it's Ron going bananas! I'll post more soon, so be sure to check back for the latest update. Aloha!

It's nap time in the Todd-Niederpruem household. The sound of soft snoring can be heard through our not-so-soundproof, uninsulated walls. It's a nice sound. More of a purr than a snore, really. Here's a weird phenomenon. Any cat experts out there, please feel free to help explain this one. Abner, by boy, and Mr. Sox, the big bruiser tom cat who came with the house, don't get along very well. That's to be expected. Both are fixed. Abner has declared the inside of the house for himself. Mr. Sox, the outside. The lanai seems to be neutral territory, as the two will sit peacefully out there with us. Anyway, for the second time in the past few days, we've heard kitty fisticuffs, followed by Abner coming home covered with poo. Yuck! He hates it! So do I. It seems Mr. Sox is actually pooping on him somehow to make his point, that under the house is his turf. Is this common? I've never heard of it or seen it, but then I've never had two tom cats trying to share

Last night gave me a whole new understanding of just how dark dark can be; just how black the blackest night; just what zero light looks like. There was no moon. The house was enshrouded with a heavy misty fog that lowered visibility with a light down to about 10 feet. With the lights off, that visibility was zero. Even the cats, with their giant pupils, seemed a bit spooked. They stayed close to the house, taking advantage of the glow from the windows. There are no street lights here on Glenwood Rd. So when the moon is hiding, it's dark. Really dark. Hold-your-hand-up-a-centimeter-from-your-face-and-not-see-it dark. We can't see our neighbors lights through the foliage from here, so the darkness gives a profound feeling of isolation. When a light it shined, it illuminates the mist as a white haze, obscuring the surrounding forest. It's all very cool. Ron and I went to a beach park in Hilo yesterday. It's a shallow, protected lagoon with a sandy bottom, perfect for swim

I've heard a few comments lately, from people concerned that Ron and I will settle in here, only to be ostracize. They fear that because we are white and a minority, we will not fit in and will be treated as unwelcome outsiders. They say they've known people who moved here and had that experience. Those people have since moved back, having acquired a bitter taste for Hawaii. So far, we have experienced only limited "stink eye" as they say here. No more so than if we'd walked into the wrong bar in any city USA and found we did not match the typical clientele. In fact, with the exception of one cranky, overworked haoli waitress, everyone has been as friendly as can be. The neighbors we've met so far have all been welcoming and nice, more than willing to talk story for a while if you happen to pass by when they are out in their yards. I'm sure we won't become best friends with everyone we meet, but I also trust there will be plenty of people we encounter

Trubiute to Uncle Ernie Aloha- It's another beautiful day in paradise. A sad one, however, as last night, I learned that my uncle Ernie has passed away. He was a kind, generous, softspoken, hard-working man, much loved by many. He had many talents, too. Ernie could build a computer or install a garage door with equal expertise and skill. Along with his wife, Elise, he raised four lovely children - my cousins - who will carry his spirit with them always. You can see a lot of Ernie in all of them. They are all among the best humans you will find anywhere on this earth, raising fine families of their own. My heart goes out to them all, especially my aunt Elise. She has lost her soul mate. I only hope she can take comfort and strength in the fact that she had such a long, happy marriage with such a good man. I know my dad, Ernie's brother, is feeling profound sadness today. He and his brother were close as kids and that closeness never waned, dispite geographic separation. Dad alw

Aloha and welcome to my hawaiian rainforest blog. It does rain oddles here on the windward flanks of Mauna Loa, but not always. In fact lately it's been beautiful. We're settling into our island home, getting used to the nuances and quirks of the place. The neighborhood is eclectic. On our road, there are small cattle ranches, a couple that raises lambs, a lettuce farmer, lots of chickens, a few goats and one large pig that I suspect will one day become family bacon. We'll order up the tractor this week and within the season should be clearing the six-foot tall, viney cane grass that dominates large portions of the property. Meanswhile, we're fertilizing and liming citrus trees and getting the pets acclimated to their new tropical home. It's actually been - dare I say it in February - a little chilly these nights, with temps dipping into the low 50s. It's prompted Ron to fire up the wood stove to take the chill off in the evenings and early mornings. I'll ad