And so...what exactly is this creature? Vol. 2

You'll recall I first asked this question back in November.

The answer then was: persimmon.

Today, in my continuing quest to understand what in the sam hell is growing in my own backyard, I bring you the next installment in the series.

Ladies and Gentlemen...ask you. What exactly is *this*:

(no fair answering first, Natalie!)

I have a tree laden with these little guys. The birds fight over the fruit that bears a color and skin resemblance to an apricot.

The neighborhood squirrels will come running up the power line, put their little paws together over their head, and swan dive into the tree to sample of these fruits.

The bugs love this tree so much, a spider has moved in and built one hell of a web. This allows him to freely sample of the bug buffet. There are bug carcasses strewn all over the place. I haven't seen a spider web like that since Hawaii!

The fruit on the tree looks a little bit like a small peach or a big apricot. But they aren't.

Curious, I pulled one that looked ripe from the tree and split it open.

This mutant fruit has not one but TWO stones at the center!

Another I opened had not two but THREE stones!

What the hell?

I didn't sample the fruit right away. The saliva-evaporating tannin in the under ripe persimmon I ate first and asked questions later taught me a huge lesson.

Nope, I was going to do some research before biting in this time.

With a little help of another overheard conversation between my landlord and his elderly father, I remembered them discussing the old man's love of something called a loquat.

Hmm. Loquat. It sounds like a concatenation of a couple other words...like lemon and apricot. Or lemon and kumquat.

Is this one of those weird hybrid fruits? No. It's not.

Loquat is actually an Americanized spelling of a Cantonese word, lou gwat, or the words mean "reed orange."

This is another tree that is found mainly in Asian countries and was brought along to the Bay Area. It's a very hardy tree!

Evidently the fruit has a mild sedative effect.

Evidently the seeds have a mild bit of cyanide. Yay.

Note to self: eat the fruit, not the pit.

Okay!

So today I dove in like a squirrel and picked a couple ripe samples.

It's very tart like a citrus fruit but a consistency much like an apricot.

I like it!

Ok, mystery solved! Off to find recipes for loquats!

Oh, by the by, I also have this creepy creature in my backyard:

It's almost a foot across and it looks like it could devour small animals.

Fortunately, I know what this bad boy is....

It's an artichoke that my neighbor grew and forgot to pick.

If it gets any larger, I may have to move.

Just sayin'.

When being thrifty throws you into the wayback machine

So I was at Target the other day, picking up many items on my household list.

You know, toilet paper, dish soap, etc.

On my list was a need for some new razors. You know, the weather is warming up a bit, might need to take a weed whacker to the ol' winter legs...

TMI, I know.

So anyhow...razors are expensive! Dang expensive. So being a child of depression era parents, I did what any overly fiscally conservative girl would do.

I grabbed a pack of razors from the clearance bin.

Hey, they are Schick Xtreme 3! That's a good brand!

So tonight, I decided to take a long soak in a bath after a chilly rainy day, and I broke out one of my new razors to get some smooth skin happenin'.

Suddenly, my bathroom smells like Louie's Backyard on South Padre Island at the high tide of Spring Break.

You know, that odd chemically tropical combination of Malibu spiced rum and way too much Hawaiian Tropic tanning oil?

Yeah.

That's weird.

Why does my bathroom smell like that?

Turns out the clearance rack razors come with "Scented Handles by Hawaiian Tropic".

Ew.

Apparently I'm not the only one that thinks a scented handle on my razor is weird. Hence the very deep discount in the clearance bin. Schick's weird marketing idea is my gain!

With three, count them, three blades, my legs are super smooth.

Spotty memories are but a small down payment on the steep price of beauty.

Alternate spelling, alternate universe

You may recall from a post a while back that I use my secret agent 007 stealth first name when I order coffee and they ask for a name to write on the cup.

My secret agent name is Lucy. I use that name because it's:

1) easy to pronounce

2) easy to spell

3) heard clearly over the whooosh whooosh sounds of an espresso machine

I copied this from a friend (who has my same real first name), even borrowing her own made up nom de bebida, because of the ease of use.

Until this past week at the Honolulu airport.

They asked my name. I said Lucy. They nodded and wrote the name. I got my beverage and it wasn't until I was on the plane that I noticed.

You can't make this stuff up.

A real mind bender

Yesterday at 1:15pm local time, as I was boarding a plane in Honolulu, CNN was reporting that "the polls in the east will be closing soon".

When I got off the plane in Oakland, The Good Man told me it was a done deal, Obama was president.

That sort of blows the ol' brain pan!

I'm still wrapping my mind around the fact that it's over, it wasn't a dream, and a new day has begun.

Just. Wow.

You can't make this up

And you wouldn't believe me if I told you.

So I'll have to prove it in photographs.

I was shopping the book store at the Kona airport, looking for something to occupy me on the five and a half hour flight.

When my eyes fell upon this:

What is this, you say? Yes, someone actually took the time to translate the new testament into Hawaiian pidgin english.

Behold

Dats some supa spesho spirit right der!

Aloha!

Defies words

I had a day today that defies all possible words.

Started out with a road trip down south of Kona to the very end southernmost of the Big Island of Hawaii.

My destination was Punalu'u Black Sand Beach.

I had stumbled across this gem online while looking for actual beaches. Kona is the newest of the islands and as such, doesn't have fabulous sand beaches. It has stunning lava coastline, but no happy sandy beach to lay about and catch some sun...or even walk on and put your toes in the water.

So not only is Punalu'u an actual sandy beach complete with watery toes....it comes with sea turtles!

Yes, actual sea turtles!

I was lucky enough to see five today on the small stretch of sand that comprises this amazing, glorious, gorgeous beach.

Then, after I'd spent several hours with the turtles, full of a turtle induced I, I decided to move on to the Volcanos National Park.

Both Kilauea and Mauna Loa were visible and AMAZING.

I took about three hundred photos today, and I'm sorting them out. The volcanos put a muted light haze on the day which my photographer friends will know is KILLER light for taking photos.

So here's a few to start, more to come:

All photos by Karen Fayeth

Feliz Dia de los Muertos!

A personal high holy day for me.

I think I got deeply into the spirit last night dressed up as Frida.

It is a thoughtful day, remembering my loved ones who have moved on to the next journey.

I'm in a hotel room in Hawaii, so hard to celebrate properly, but I'll make do.

I'm working on a make-shift ofrenda. If it comes out I'll post a photo.

Mostly, just a reminder to remember those closest to you, both here and beyond.

Happy Halloween!

Here's my costume!

When I tried this on last week I think I sort of startled The Good Man...:)

Fish!

Bit hard to tell from the photo, but if you look, you can see a school of bright yellow fish schooling around there in the crystal blue waters.

I'll just say this: WHOA!

Doin' pretty fine

Lava rock means not a lot of sandy beaches. But it sure is pretty.

For my New Mexico friends, parts of Kona I have seen so far (the non-ocean part) reminds me of The Valley of Fire in New Mexico. Black, stark, and really beautiful.

Humid. Obscenely so. But warm.

The morning vog (volcanic fog) has moved on and it promises to be a gorgeous day.

Well shut my mouth...

Look what I found in a Kona grocery store!!

I wept a little.

Hello New Mexico!!

Thoughts from a westbound plane

I'm aware that since I'm in "airplane mode" that by the time I actually manage to get this posted, I'll no longer be ON a plane, simply working my new six-day life as an island girl.

That said, as of right now, the moment my fingers fly across the keys of my battered MacBook, I have a lot of thoughts about this exceedingly westbound plane.

First. Looking out the window is boring.

We're flying so freaking high that all I can see are clouds. And I know that if I didn't see clouds, I'd see only ocean. A lot of ocean.

I think I'd rather see clouds. If I consider the vast miles of ocean, and me up here in a sardine can with wings, I might go a little buggy. Since this here flight is due to last some five hours, that's a LOT of spare time in which to go buggy.

So I'll refrain.

Next.

When did the airlines start cheaping out so much? Remember when you'd receive packets of snacks for no charge? And headphones too so you could watch the movie as you slide down the window shade and try to imagine the patchwork quilty American Midwest below your feet instead of vast chilly salty waters?

Remember when you didn’t have to have a credit card so you could check your luggage?

Remember when the flight attendants and crew were actually nice?

Remember when people used to dress up to travel?

Ah. Memories of a bygone era.

My white-haired Irish grandmother in a fur collared overcoat and perfect lipstick descending the metal stairs from a plane parked outside the Albuquerque International Airport. Impossibly glamorous to a sun browned hick kid from the desert.

It left a lasting impression.

On to the next thoughts…I get it that I'm going to a tourist destination. Sure. But the abject marketing of product at every turn is a bit more than I can take.

Sure, money makes the world go round. But it's also what got my ass elevated to 35,000 feet. I've paid my dues already. Haven't I?

As they play this "Hawai'ian Skies" video highlighting all the charms of my destination, they keep pausing to play Hawaiian Airlines ads. I give. You got me. I'm here. You have my money. I don't. Quit marketing to me!

Oh no, but there's a Hilo Hattie coupon on my food tray, an on-flight magazine chock-a-block full of "Buy this! See this! Do this! Only this many dollars!"

Dude. Mr. Jones took most of my money. I'm doin' what I can already!

Next thought.

When I sat down, there was this young punk looking kid at the other end of the row. Like straight outta Compton-wannabe-ville. You know the type. Hat turned, thick gold-plated zirconium bling, chest bowed out fussin' and fumin'.

I thought "oh geez…five hours with this?"

Until across the aisle plopped down a mom and a dad.

How hard must it be to represent when mommy and daddy just bought you a turkey sandwich so little Johnny won't be hungry?

Whatevs.

Click, click…what next?

Here's a thought. If you are *going* to Hawaii and while on the plane you are wearing a tee shirt that *says* Hawaii…then I'm pretty sure you are a tourist.

I'm just sayin'.

The guy pulling this stunt is huge and sort of angry looking. So I won't say.

But I'll think it. Ooooh I'll think it real good.

One woman is also already wearing coconut smelling lotion or sunscreen or something. She smells like the swimming pool at the Dunes in Vegas, and not in a good way (The Dunes, RIP, you were a fabulous schlocky hotel).

Can ya wait to get there to put that crap on? Evidently no.

Next!

I read a pretty interesting article in the in flight magazine about a guy who grows avocados in Hawaii. Evidently these local avocados are delightful.

The article mentioned that your traditional California Hass avocado is about 8% fat and the Hawaiian avocado is more like 25% fat.

The grower said, "it's like eating butter."

Where can I sign up?

Evidently most groceries in Hawaii ship in California Hass. You can't get the local stuff (it's looked down upon, oddly).

Maybe there will be a farmer's market nearby? The grower mentioned in the article lives near where I’m headed.

Journey to a Good Avocado.

Now THAT is worth the trip.

Next thought.

Hawaiian words. Will I be expected to know them and use them?

Will I be branded a moron for not knowing the vernacular?

Mele Kaliki Maka is about my limit. Thanks Bing for putting that one into my brain. I imagine saying Merry Christmas to the locals won't put me in any good stead.

Mahalo. I can probably work that one.

But what about aloha? When does one use that? It's sort of a one size fits all word. Is there ever a wrong time to use it? Will I whip out an aloha and get frowny eyes in return?

Is it like when the pimply web designer at work tries to talk Spanish to the girl who makes espresso drinks? She tolerates him mangling her native tongue because, why bother correcting him, really.

What's the right way not to insult locals? To attempt the language or to refrain?

It is to wonder.

Next.

Well. I'm only two hours into this flight. Not even half way. My right leg is already bouncing and I'm itching to stand.

Have I mentioned I actually dislike flights that go more than a couple hours? When I went to New York, I was so worried about my buggy feelings that I packed an art project to keep me busy. Worked pretty well, actually. My seat mate wasn't too impressed with my cross-stitch craftsmanship, but what's a cranky businessman got to do with it?

I brought along a book. After hearing, well, EVERYONE talking about this young adult series "Twilight", I thought I'd give it a whirl.

I'm a veteran of the "young adult" genre, Harry Potter, Pullman's "His Dark Materials" series (from which the movie "The Golden Compass" was born), and more.

All the ladies of about my age range are twittering about "Twilight". A vampire love story, I believe.

It's a thick tome, some 481 pages. I thought that would be sufficient to fascinate me for five hours.

And if that worked, I wouldn't be writing this, now would I?

Final thought.

I have to pee.

Man I hate peeing on an airplane.

I can hold it for three hours or I can just cowboy up and get 'er done.

Not the most erudite way to end this missive.

Ah well. I'll try to be a little classier when I descend from this plane in Honolulu, channeling my Irish grandma and pretending I'm actually a grownup.

Mahalo, aloha and Mele Kaliki Maka to everyone!

This just in…I have wrongly accused the coconut smelling woman. Turns out it's the soap in the bathroom. Great…now the whole plane smells like the swimming pool at the Dunes. Ugh.

Irrefutable evidence

That there is my actual hand putting my actual absentee ballot into the actual mailbox.

I will be in Hawaii for Election Day, or rather will be traveling home from Hawaii, so I won't really be able to keep an eye on the results.

Either way, it will be newsworthy.

But there you have it. I voted.

Now it's your turn.

I won't tussle over your opinion versus mine. All I ask is that you make your opinion known.

Vote.

Something to look forward to

I believe in life it's always important to have something you are looking forward to. Something that helps get your heinie out of bed in the morning so you can slog through another day.

A reason to prevail.

It can be just about anything. Heck, some folks are looking to the weekend. Others to seeing their kids at the end of the day. Everyday stuff is good, no doubt, but I'm talking the big stuff. The "ohmygoshIcanhardlywait" kind of stuff.

For me this year, it was about the wedding. Yeah, that was a doozy. A real big something to look forward to, and man did it deliver.

I remember walking on the beach with my fresh-out-of-the-package husband on the evening after our morning wedding, and I said to him "you know, we need to find something new to look forward to."

He told me to shush up and enjoy our wedding day, and I did. Soon enough, though, he was saying it too, "we need a new something to look forward to."

Well, we got one. Yup. Two weeks. Hawaii.

Bam! (said with all the Emeril flair I can muster)

I have never been and it's almost like a fairy tale to this New Mexico kid to even think about going.

Sure, yeah, economic crisis, yipes, and all of that. But hey, I'm doing MY part for the economy.

The weather in the Bay Area is starting to turn decidedly frosty. The usually standoffish Feline has taken to cuddling *right* on up with her heat-producing humans. Blankets have come out of closets.

And in just two weeks, I'll be where it's 80 degrees and in an island state of mind.

Oh. Yeah.

And I'll come back just in time to start my new job at a new company.

All that added up…not a terrible "something to look forward to."