Skip to main content

Farmin' works up a powerful thirst

Saturday was sunny and beautiful, a nice day for a job interview. I think it went well. If nothing comes of it, at least I got to eat lunch at Cafe Pesto with an interesting person. She said she'd call sometime this week to let me know about the job.
Meanwhile, today I learned that the Hawaii Island Journal is going to print one of my stories next issue - as it's cover story. Cool! It took 'em long enough.
Sunday was Ron's big day; the big 6-0. Wow! First, he did a little farm work, tilling up some dirt on his trusty steed(aka the tractor). Then we went to Luquin's (where we always go) in Pahoa. There, we drank mango and guava margaritas, ate a boatload of heavy Mexican food, then came home to take a long, digestive nap. It was a very satisfying day for me. I think he enjoyed it to. I know Mr. Sox relished his snooze while we were away on such a warm, sunny day.
We've got zucchini coming out our ears, as you can see here.

This morning, our neighbor's baby goat was crying a little and I snuck up to shoot his photo. Cute, yeah? He's crying less and less these days, so I think he's adjusting. Still, he's so little. Poor guy! Shoots. He's just a kid! The blurry bumper sticker you see on the car behind him says, "Cook rice, not ice." That's a reference to crystal methamphetamine. Ice is what they call meth here. Hawaii has one of the worst meth problems in the U.S. I think it ranks second only to Oregon. Crackdowns, public information campaigns and legislation to make the ingredients more difficult to obtain have helped. In most states, ease of manufacture is the biggest problem. Here, most of the drugs are imported from Mexico, so trafficking is a bigger problem than "cooking" the stuff. Just before we moved here, two men who lived just up the road from our house were hauled off to the huscow for distribution of the stuff. It was a big bust, with the FBI, ATF and Hawaii County Police all involved. They also confiscated lots of guns and money. Those guys are now serving eight years in the big house, in California. Good riddance!

That reminds me of a t-shirt I saw some time ago that struck me as funny. It said, "Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms" in big, bold letters. Then, in small print below that it asked, "Who's going to bring the chips?"

Today, I officially took on the volunteer responsibility for doing public relations for the local Hilo chapter of the AAUW (American Association of University Women). Ron keeps calling it the American Association of Union Women. He thinks he's pretty funny. At least one person does. Anyway, I think it will be fun, if I can just remember how to write a press release.

A hui hou. Aloha!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Born and bred

The creature stared at me, wide-eyed through the florescent glare, Saran Wrap stretched tight across its broad back. Alone in the seafood cooler, he was the only one of his kind, there among the farmed, color-added Atlantic salmon and mud-flavored tilapia, perched on a blue foam tray, legs tucked 'round him like a comfy kitten. He didn't blink. He was dead, red, cooked and chilled, ready to eat. Such a find is rare in the City Market fish department in Gunnison, Colorado. What if nobody takes him home? I thought. This beautiful animal will have died needlessly, ripped from his home, family and friends (Dory, Nemo, Crush and Gill?) only to be tossed in the trash when his expiration date came and went. I lifted him for closer inspection, checked that date, felt the heft of him, scanned his surface for cracks and blemishes. The creature was perfect. I lowered him back into the cooler, nodded farewell, turned to walk away, took one step, and stopped. Shoppers strolled past, stud
4 comments
Read more

General goofiness

I was driving home from an abbreviated shift at work last night when I turned on the radio and heard Bob Dylan singing Everybody Must Get Stoned .  I was reminded of a placard I once saw at a Dairy Queen in Colorado that read, Everybody Must Get Coned .  So it occurred to me, there navigating through the misty darkness, that with a slight modification, this could be a great slogan for a number if different businesses.  Here's my list. Telecommunications company: Everybody must get phoned . Cutlery shop and knife sharpening services: Everybody must get honed . Credit Union: Everybody must get loaned . Brothel: Everybody must get moaned. Winery: Everybody must get Rhoned . Fitness Center: Everybody must get toned . Local planning commission: Everybody must get zoned . Bio-research company: Everybody must get cloned. Doggy daycare: Everybody must get boned. Manufacturer of modern, unmanned spy planes: Everybody must get droned . Reader of corny mottoes and slogans listed on a chees
2 comments
Read more

Re-writing Twain: Adendum

The best thing about rants, at least among the civilized, is that someone smart always makes a valid point to the contrary. My fellow University of Alaska Anchorage classmate, Wendy, directed me to this column, written recently for the New York Times by a writer I admire, Lorrie Moore . She's on both sides of editing Twain issue, and for good reason, posing the notion that maybe Mark Twain was never intended to be children's literature and that that is the problem. Give it a read, then tell me what you think, if you're so inclined. It was Flannery O'Connor who said, "The fact is that anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information to last him the rest of his days."  No matter how idyllic one's childhood, no matter how hard grown ups try to protect their young charges, trauma happens, sometimes the likes of which no child should endure. Stories that reflect this are often the fodder for great literature, stories not necessarily suitable for y
2 comments
Read more