Saturday started out as just another day to clean the house. Within a short time, however, I found myself on a mission; a mission of arachnid eradication. The spiders, for all their great bug-eating prowess, have a tendency to get a bit out of control in a place where there's no real winter. They're not only everywhere outside, but inside, too. I found webs with giant eight-leggers in corners, on the ceiling, hiding under window shades....everywhere! They were in places I vacuumed just two days before. Since the invasion of the beetles, the spiders have grown enormously fat and happy. So I sucked 'em all up. EEEEEEEEWWWWWW! I was none too keen on removing the vacuum bag.
In addition to spider sucking, there was fun with fungi. What did the girl mushroom say to the boy mushroom? Gee your a fun-gi! Unfortunately, the prevailing fungus amongus was not shitakes or portabellos, but mold and mildew. Again.... eeeeeeeeewwwwww! I cleaned the top of the fridge, which was home to a nice mixture of dust, mold, rust and dead bugs. Neither Ron or I can see the top of the fridge from where we stand, so we have to make a concerted effort to climb up on a step ladder and give it a spray and a wipe now and then. I even dusted the tops of the kitchen cupboards. Shoots. You'd think it was spring or something.
Meanwhile, it continued to rain. Check that. It continues to rain. Out of the last 15 days, it has rained 13. When I say it has rained, I don't mean we've enjoyed a half-hour shower every mostly-sunny day. I'm talking constant, heavy rain, interrupted only occasionally by a moment of sprinkles, a peek of blue sky and then on to the next downpour. During that brief respite, you might make it to the road from the house to pick up the paper before getting soaked. You might not. It's downright squishy out there.
Looking farther than you'll ever hope
to see, takes you places you don't know
Search for someone you can't ever hope
to be and still you go
Oh, still you go.
Lyrics from Changing Horses, written by
Dan Fogelberg
I just learned that Dan Fogelberg died today. The radio was playing "Another Auld Lang Syne" just Friday on my way home from work and, despite the fact that I hadn't heard that song for a very long time, found myself singing along, word for word. I think I listened to "Souvenirs" until I wore out the grooves. "Leader of the Band" makes me cry every time. It saddens me that he's gone.
I was called in to work today after a co-worker slipped and fell en-route to her car from her house. Fortunately, she was found to have no broken bones. She was, however, badly bruised and will likely be very sore for days. I've taken that kind of fall before. Your walking along, completely upright, then suddenly... SLAM! You're not. Upright, that is. It hurts.
My first customer was a deaf woman who lives in Volcano Village. I'm told she comes in regularly, although I've never met her. She told me she had gotten a cochlear implant. I asked if it worked. We were conversing via pad and pen and it was obvious she could not hear my voice, so I was thinking she should ask for a refund. She said that she could now hear background sounds, like the phone ringing or a horn honking. When I asked if that was helping her "a little" she beamed. "Not a little," she said. "A lot." To her, the ability to hear those sounds, after a lifetime of complete silence, had changed her life. She was a very happy, cheerful person. I asked if she had heard the thunder from last week's storm. Very animated, without writing it down, she said, "Yes," then made a rumbling noise with her voice, shaking her hands. She lives on a 23 acre flower farm with her boyfriend, four dogs and a cat. We actually understood each other pretty well, but it made me wish I knew sign language.
I learned several years ago that "hearing impaired" is not the same as deaf. People who are hearing impaired can hear, but with diminished capacity. Deaf people cannot hear. They do not consider themselves hearing impaired. In fact, they dislike the term, considering it one that hearing people use to describe them when trying to be politically correct. I was glad to have had this knowledge in my conversation with this woman.
A group of visitors from Arizona asked me this afternoon if I knew of any place to eat on their way back to Kona. I asked them, "Which way are you going?"
"Back to Kona," they repeated.
"Are you going north or south?" I asked.
"Just back to Kona," they said. The reason I was asking, of course is that this is an island and, whether you turn left or right at the highway, you are headed to Kona. Some people take the route to the north. Others go south. Both directions are pretty much equidistant. I clarified this to them, suggesting that, on an island, no matter which way you go, if you go far enough, you'll end up in Kona. They thought this was the funniest observation they had ever heard and laughed hysterically. Hey. I try to be entertaining. Sometimes, I succeed.
A hui hou. Aloha.
In addition to spider sucking, there was fun with fungi. What did the girl mushroom say to the boy mushroom? Gee your a fun-gi! Unfortunately, the prevailing fungus amongus was not shitakes or portabellos, but mold and mildew. Again.... eeeeeeeeewwwwww! I cleaned the top of the fridge, which was home to a nice mixture of dust, mold, rust and dead bugs. Neither Ron or I can see the top of the fridge from where we stand, so we have to make a concerted effort to climb up on a step ladder and give it a spray and a wipe now and then. I even dusted the tops of the kitchen cupboards. Shoots. You'd think it was spring or something.
Meanwhile, it continued to rain. Check that. It continues to rain. Out of the last 15 days, it has rained 13. When I say it has rained, I don't mean we've enjoyed a half-hour shower every mostly-sunny day. I'm talking constant, heavy rain, interrupted only occasionally by a moment of sprinkles, a peek of blue sky and then on to the next downpour. During that brief respite, you might make it to the road from the house to pick up the paper before getting soaked. You might not. It's downright squishy out there.
Looking farther than you'll ever hope
to see, takes you places you don't know
Search for someone you can't ever hope
to be and still you go
Oh, still you go.
Lyrics from Changing Horses, written by
Dan Fogelberg
I just learned that Dan Fogelberg died today. The radio was playing "Another Auld Lang Syne" just Friday on my way home from work and, despite the fact that I hadn't heard that song for a very long time, found myself singing along, word for word. I think I listened to "Souvenirs" until I wore out the grooves. "Leader of the Band" makes me cry every time. It saddens me that he's gone.
I was called in to work today after a co-worker slipped and fell en-route to her car from her house. Fortunately, she was found to have no broken bones. She was, however, badly bruised and will likely be very sore for days. I've taken that kind of fall before. Your walking along, completely upright, then suddenly... SLAM! You're not. Upright, that is. It hurts.
My first customer was a deaf woman who lives in Volcano Village. I'm told she comes in regularly, although I've never met her. She told me she had gotten a cochlear implant. I asked if it worked. We were conversing via pad and pen and it was obvious she could not hear my voice, so I was thinking she should ask for a refund. She said that she could now hear background sounds, like the phone ringing or a horn honking. When I asked if that was helping her "a little" she beamed. "Not a little," she said. "A lot." To her, the ability to hear those sounds, after a lifetime of complete silence, had changed her life. She was a very happy, cheerful person. I asked if she had heard the thunder from last week's storm. Very animated, without writing it down, she said, "Yes," then made a rumbling noise with her voice, shaking her hands. She lives on a 23 acre flower farm with her boyfriend, four dogs and a cat. We actually understood each other pretty well, but it made me wish I knew sign language.
I learned several years ago that "hearing impaired" is not the same as deaf. People who are hearing impaired can hear, but with diminished capacity. Deaf people cannot hear. They do not consider themselves hearing impaired. In fact, they dislike the term, considering it one that hearing people use to describe them when trying to be politically correct. I was glad to have had this knowledge in my conversation with this woman.
A group of visitors from Arizona asked me this afternoon if I knew of any place to eat on their way back to Kona. I asked them, "Which way are you going?"
"Back to Kona," they repeated.
"Are you going north or south?" I asked.
"Just back to Kona," they said. The reason I was asking, of course is that this is an island and, whether you turn left or right at the highway, you are headed to Kona. Some people take the route to the north. Others go south. Both directions are pretty much equidistant. I clarified this to them, suggesting that, on an island, no matter which way you go, if you go far enough, you'll end up in Kona. They thought this was the funniest observation they had ever heard and laughed hysterically. Hey. I try to be entertaining. Sometimes, I succeed.
A hui hou. Aloha.
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Karen