Pig Balls and Three-Gong-Fish

It was a dark night on our lumpy road when the four of us bounced to the tune of the headlights flipping off the cane grass. And then there was a dark form ahead. “There’s a dog in the road,” I said.

No, not a dog. It was a pig.

We followed behind two bouncing testicles as he tripped on down the road, stealth as a Doberman. Pigs here are shinny healthy, have long legs, are black, and are abundantly endowed.

Earlier in the day we were at The Ponds Restaurant again. The waitress asked if Baby D would like to feed the Koi fishes that were abundant in the pond below our window. We said yes and she brought a little cup of fish food. First she said “I have to ring the gong three times. It has to be three times.” Thrice she hit the gong and the fish in a mighty flurry gathered below the window awaiting our handout.

Can you believe fish can count?

The animals here aren’t as abundant as in Oregon, that is we do not have the variety, no squirrels, skunks, deer, elk, badgers, snakes, chipmunks. Here mongooses, pigs and frogs are the wild things. There are birds of course, and insects. We have many spiders in the trees and porch outside. I really don’t like to run into a web for it feels sticky and I wonder where the spider is. Yesterday, however, as I exited the porch I watched a spider spin her web. She was a little brown spider, and her web was circular. I watched as she hooked a portion of web about one half inch long to a vertical bar of web, and then proceeded to make the next one half inch of web, hook it, and so on around the circle. It was exquisite. I now feel bad about tearing down any webs, besides although having a web might make our house look unkempt, Lady spider is at work sweeping insects from the air.

On an Island there is, of course, marine life. We soaked in a pond yesterday kept bath-tub warm by water heated deep within the earth which then percolates to the surface. People lounge around, and Baby D loved it. We all did. So did little fishes that nibbled at our feet.

Our two goats Do and Ra (as in Do-Re-Mi-Fa-Sol-La-Ti-Do) are sweet little nannies, and still want their bottles. We know they ought to be weaned, but they cry pitifully in the morning until they get a bottle. First we fed them twice a day. Now only mornings. For the first month after getting them we fed milk replacer. When that ran out--and they really didn’t need it anymore--we added a little rice milk to the water to flavor it. Now they get only warm water. Not as much fun, but they suck it down in two shakes of a goat’s tail.

Life on the Big Island continues…

Back in Oregon Orville and Wilbur, the goats we left behind, continue to be good will ambassadors. The manager at Sanctuary One sent pictures, and said people love the goats. Two teens were pictured petting them, one teen was seven months pregnant. The manager said they will remember our goats for the rest of their lives. And she said that Orville is in love with a new little lady goat. They look happy.

Aloha from Joyce

Calling All Creative-Minded People

http://www.breastcancerwarrior.net/
I received a communication from a Breast Cancer survivor yesterday who says she places each day in the hands of the Universe, and asks how she can be of service to other “Warriors.” Her attitude is that everything works out as it should. Can I get that?

Since this writing is a chronicle of our days in Hawaii, I figured if it wasn’t all picture postcard perfect I ought to say that, not as a whine, but as a fact. One might think that moving to Hawaii would mean Mai Tai’s on the beach and sifting sand through one’s toes. It can be that, but we are living here, and living and working on one’s house and property is not always pretty especially living primitive as we are, and worrying about our Oregon house selling, and trying to get a loan on this one. It is as Mark Twain said, “Roughing it in The Sandwich Islands”

I think of our Real Estate agent’s comment though. When I apologized that he had to go to the office on a Sunday to receive a FAX, he said,. “Don’t be silly, every day in Hawaii is a vacation.”
On every turn messengers telling me, “Everything will work out.”

I have an idea that would take an act of congress to implement, but wouldn’t it be a fitting end to our saga if it came to pass? It would be a win, win win situation.

I wonder...

The breast cancer survivor I mentioned has a non-profit organization and would love to turn our Oregon house into her headquarters. However, she does not have the money to buy it. The location of our property is secluded on 35 tranquil acres. The house is built of logs, is beautiful, with a rather Southwestern lodge flavor. It would be a perfect retreat for cancer survivors. And I just thought about it, there is a paddock with a run-in barn that once housed our two horses. The organization could include Hippo-Therapy–that is horse therapy, for horses are healing for children and adults alike.

The organization would house a Naturopath, a Homeopath, a Dietician and a CHEF. The principle is that cancer is a disease of the body, mind, and spirit and ought to be treated as such.

If our mortgage provider would buy back the house from itself and donate it to charity wouldn’t they get a tax break? What are my chances?

Maybe all those “Warriors” out there could lobby the cause.

Or perhaps there is someone in need of a tax break who would purchase a beautiful house at cost and donate it to charity.

Is there a higher purpose for our house than another dwelling? Is there a reason it has not sold before now?

Consider the possibilities...

Contrasts

Baby D and "George the Traveling Frog" at the Marriott *

I have never gone to Hawaii for my birthday before and there we were in a Hawaii that looked straight out of a postcard. It was my best birthday ever.

Daughter D treated us to a stay at the Marriott Hotel on the Kona side of the Big Island. I sipped a Mai Tai from a fresh pineapple while overlooking the pool. We swam, we snorkeled—my first time since being here. We saw Kunakunukinukiahpooahah fish, once thought to be Hawaii’s state fish, but apparently that is debatable. We enjoyed the luxury of abundant water, great food, and an exquisite ambiance.

What was it the lady at the Pond’s Restaurant told us? Living as you are will make you appreciate everything. Here we live off the grid, with diminishing water supply, electricity that goes off if we use too much of it, no refrigerator, a house in need of work, and then we go to the grandeur that was that hotel. The Queen’s shops adjacent to the hotel, (The King’s is across the street, we will hit it another time) with its outdoor cafes and the many flowers in blossom, felt, in some small measure, like Disneyland

On the Hilo side of the island people think resources are slim. At the hotel they did not look slim. Whoever built a number of Hotels on the Kona Coast took a strip of Black Lava and carved out an oasis of palms, lush greenery, pools and lavish hotels. The rooms at the Marriott were grand, the grounds exquisite, manicured, all coconuts cut from the trees, all dead fronds taken away. The pools are wonderful, warm, some salt water, one fresh, a couple of hot tubs--open 24 hours a day. I looked around at the hardware, the door handles, the bathroom fixtures, the marble, the tile, all imported. How did it get there? The ships must have worn a swath in the sea. Or was it flown in? I know it took a lot of courage, money and trust that “If I build it they will come.”

On Sunday Husband Dear and I soaked in a hot tub, Darling Daughter, Baby Darling, HD and I had a marvelous buffet breakfast, we snorkeled in the sea, swam in a pool, and bathed in their bath tub. All before our 1 o’clock check out time.

I would say that was a productive morning.

Back at the Ranch:

Two days later I fell to the ground in shock and dismay when the building inspector came to close off two permits that had been open on our property since the 1980’s. While we are in the final stages of getting a loan on this property they tell us the open permits must be closed. One was for an Ohana house (Family house, like a mother-in-law apartment) that was never built. No problem, the inspector would close that one. The other was for a Gazebo. We looked around. What Gazebo? Well, it turned out that our beloved Tiki Room was first intended to be a Gazebo. It was later enclosed, well partly enclosed, part is screened, but even screening is considered enclosed. First the inspector lady said the siding will have to come off. I couldn’t take it. That was too much. I was ready to run to the hills that is if I could run, for I was limp on the ground.

But wait all ends well.

The lovely lady inspector lobbied our cause and we can keep the Kiki Room with its siding. (And DD’s new real bonified closable door) The inspector closed the permit with a Gentleman’s agreement that we would take out the toilet, including the connecting pipes. We did that, and then the plumbing inspector said, “Oh, you will have to fill in the cesspool that services that toilet.” We have done that. Lovely lady came again, okayed the permit, that is if we repair the stairs, but we have months to do that. The permit is closed. Whew!

I bow to the Great Spirit.

* We took George a stuffed frog with us to the Marriott. He was mailed to us by a 5th grader from Wilmette Illinois, who has sent George to travel the world and report his adventures back to his class. If you are interested in taking George on a field trip, contact me, as he must go to someone else who will keep him traveling. The plan is to send a post card back to the class and then send George on his way. His journey lasts until April of 2011.

The Attitude of Aloha

Baby D's First Birthday


I was totally inspired by a woman. We shared beach sand together.

She was sifting through the sand looking for tiny white shells, shells perfect as the day they were born, some as small as a dot on this page. She told me that she and her husband used to do it, and the one to find the smallest shell got to choose the restaurant for their evening meal. Her daughter and grandson were visiting her for her birthday, so she sat and sifted while they played in the surf.

If we should meet again we have a password, “Baby’s Birthday,” as she lives somewhere in our vicinity although our “Cavier” beach is about 90 minutes away. It is Black Sands Beach, where Baby D loves to squish moist sand, and where fresh water pools abound at ocean’s edge, and where the sea turtles play, and where, according to legend the turtles come to protect the children, and where we came to celebrate Baby D’s birthday.

I’ve been asking people why they moved here. My beach friend said husband came here without her and bought a house. That was it. Because it was his dream and she loved him, she moved, but she missed her family. It rained constantly, she couldn’t find the things she was used to, she would stand in the back yard, in the rain, and cry. He said they could move back if she was so unhappy, but she said she would adjust, and now six years later she won’t leave. Her husband passed away three years ago, her daughter and grandson urge her to move to the mainland, but this is home. This is Aloha.

Look it up she says. Aloha means more than love or hello or goodbye, it is a way of life. It is giving without expecting anything in return. It unfolds as time goes by. It was her attitude of Aloha that inspired me. She is widowed, lives on $700 a month, and before her husband died, a “friend” stole practically everything they had. But her house is paid for, she manages, and she seemed happy.

A woman at the propane store, said that while some people think she is native, she was raised in San Francisco, her son went to Stanford, she had a hard time adjusting. There was a couple at a Restaurant we spoke with, he lived here all his life, she came, visited, stayed.

People come, they become a part of the Island, they stay. There are intellectuals here, implants who do not take much stock in appearances. I am learning not to judge a book by its cover. The little town of Pahoa could easily be passed by. It looks set back in time, many roofs are rusted, some places are shabby, but we walked into a restaurant the other day, Kalies, and while it didn’t look like much outside, it was cute as anything on the inside—painted red, with a lovely bar, and exquisite food. Someone said this was an eatery town, a Mexican restaurant, a couple of Thai restaurants, a good Pizza place—take out, no ambiance for eating in, there is a fish and chips place down the road we haven’t tried, and other places we haven’t hit yet.

Here is some information I found about Aloha. It sounds like living in a state of grace.

“Aloha is the coordination of mind and heart…it is within the individual. It brings you down to yourself. You must think and emote good feelings to others.”


A stands for AKAHAI, meaning kindness to be expressed with tenderness.


L stands for LOKAHI meaning unity, to be expressed with harmony.


O stands for OLU’OLU meaning agreeable, to be expressed with pleasantness.


H stands for HAAHA’A meaning humility, to be expressed with modesty.


A stands for AHONUI meaning patience, to be expressed with perseverance.


I have a lot to learn.