On Christmas eve, Ron and I took an afternoon trip up the Hamakua coast in search of some sun and lunch. We found neither. Traffic was pretty heavy through Hilo, where we stopped en-route at Hilo Hattie to buy me a new Christmas aloha shirt. Our quest for food had us headed to a little place in Laupahoehoe called The 50s Cafe. I had heard it was good, so we thought we'd give it a try. It took us a long time to get there, winding around the curves of the highway in the rain. We were both pretty hungry. Ron kept asking me, "How much further?"I'd say, "I think it's right up here."
Then he'd say, "That's what you said last time I asked."
Then I'd say, "I know, but I'm pretty sure it's right around the next curve."
Then we would laugh.
At one point, we made a detour along the Onomea Bay scenic drive, only to be turned around within just a few miles. We were stopped suddenly by a mudslide and several large, tall trees that had fallen from the hillside across the road, right at the trailhead that leads down to the shoreline. One big tree had landed on the roof of a parked SUV. It appeared that car's inhabitants had taken the trail and returned to find their vehicle pinned. Big fat bummahs! It must have just happened. I overheard the guy talking to his rental car company, letting them know what had happened. We assumed with all the other phones in operation and the casual demeanor of the dozen or more people standing around that the authorities had been summoned. We made a quick, three-point turn-around and high-tailed it outa there, choosing to skeedaddle before the rest of the hillside came down and before the traffic backed up behind us and we became trapped at the dead end created by the debris. As we returned to the highway, we saw that the cops were already on their way.
When we finally made it to Laupahoehoe, we learned that The 50s Cafe is closed on Mondays. Once again, bummahs! So we opted for some filling station chicken. The only other place to get food near there is a gas pump/mini-mart that advertises "Maui fried chicken." I guess it's "Maui fried" in much the same way that the Colonel's is "Kentucky fried" no matter where you buy it. Ironically, when we entered the place, we saw that the chicken was gone. "Somebody jus' come in an' clean us out," said the clerk. Again, bummahs! It was going to be a bit of a wait before the next batch o' foul would be ready. So we headed back to Hilo Town. On the way, we spotted the rental SUV that had been crushed by the tree. It was on the back of a tow truck, parked on the highway. It didn't really look all that bad; just a nasty dent in the roof. We also wound a ways through the jungle near Laupahoehoe. I shot this photo of a raging muddy stream.
It's been raining so hard for so long that streams are all brown and heavy with silt washing out to sea. When we got to town, we split a plate of local/chinese/pipi stew/whatevahs kine stuffs at a little hole-in-the-wall near the KTA grocery store. It did the trick, tiding us over until dinner. 
Later that night, Lucy decided she should clean my bowl after I was finished with it. I guess she likes my lasagna. Then, she decided to clean me up a bit, too.
This morning, I spent some quality time on the couch with Crawford. She can't really jump up on her own anymore, so I gave her a boost. It's her couch, after all. Crawfie and I watch the exploits of Ralphy in "A Christmas Story." I got my egg nog fix for the year, then talked to a few friends and family on the phone. Later, I delivered some locally made preserves to my neighbors and talked story for a few minutes with those who were home. This afternoon, we went to the Christmas buffet at the Kilauea Military Camp in Volcanoes National Park. We were not dazzled by the buffet. Most perplexing was the "turkey" slices that were a ying and yang blend of both white and dark meat. Later, Ron actually asked me, "What was up with that turkey?" I suggested it was a "turkey loaf" of some sort, pressed and molded in such a way that it no longer resembled real turkey. Yet that's what it was. Then, there was the fruitcake for desert. I'm the only person I know who actually likes good fruitcake. Harry and David's comes to mind. Unfortunately, this was the stereotypical kind of fruitcake, the kind that gives all respectable fruitcakes a bad name. It was heavy as a cannon ball and was loaded with those unnaturally-colored green and red fruit thingies that don't really taste like anything. On the other hand, the lamb chops and mashed taters with gravy were ono. The green beans were cooked with bacon. Bacon makes everything good. I wore my new shirt. All in all, it was a nice, island Christmas.
Hope yours was nice too.
A hui hou. Aloha!
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