So Long, Joe...

          Mendocino, California~2009

(Yours truly with Joe, Barb, and their sweet grandchildren.)

Saddened to learn that my blog pal Joe Spado has shuffled off this mortal coil... That seems impossible, since he was a strong and courageous survivor for most of his 64 years..

His heart was permanently damaged from exposure to agent orange when he was a very young man, serving in Vietnam.  He spoke out for veteran's rights for the rest of his life and was against the Bush wars and what they're doing to yet another generation of soldiers.

He lived life in ways most of us never do.  

Crossed the United States countless times by motorcycle.  Cycling was his passion, and it saddened him to stop riding recently.  But he took things in stride, always sharing his love and light with those he came in contact with.  And he knew a LOT of people!

In 2009, he took his wife, daughter, and grandchildren on a cross country road trip.  He wanted to share some of what he had seen with the young ones, especially.  They had an amazing journey and on their way up the North Coast, they stopped to say hello.  We walked to the little park at the Mendocino Recreation Center and hung out while the kids played.  Then they hit the road again for Humboldt.

I had previously visited with Joe in 2007.  He passed through Mendo on his way to San Francisco.  He was meeting his wife there and they were driving back to the Midwest together. Theirs was one of those unions you hear of, but rarely witness. Together since 1971-through changes many marriages could never have endured. Like losing a child, for instance. Life partners in every sense.

He made fine traditional dream catchers in his retirement--like none I've ever seen.  He sent me one about six years ago and recently repaired it. He also made beautiful snowshoes. 

Joe was a true Renaissance man, and a kind human. So long, Spadoman.  (His blog, Round Circle can be found in my blog list, over there on the right.)

Humor

We received our first Xmas card today.

Not sure whether it is kind or true or improves upon the (blissful) silence.  It really did, however make me smile.  Humor is necessary in my world!

They Shake Their Bones

Dia de Los Muertos mosaic art by an old pal from the Tahoe Days, who is, these days, a longtime resident of Santa Cruz. This card arrived in the p.o. box yesterday.  I still delight in receiving snail mail, aging curmudgeon that I am. It was sent by another friend in Santa Cruz.  Where my babies were born, and much, much more.  

It's been almost a year since I've seen two of my three kids. More than five months since older daughter visited us. That's nearly an eternity in mama time.  Hoping to pull off a trip to Northern California at the end of this year to see my children and loved ones.  Because the only tough part about this amazing existence in paradise is missing people that I love.  Which is something I fully expected, so not a surprise. As long as I can get to the mainland once a year, l'm good. And then, someday...

So, am looking into possibilities. Knowing that each time I return to the mainland, and my former haunts, I am reminded of what's changed.  And what remains.

Wordless Wednesday Oncemore

Honoka'a People's Theater

...From the side parking lot.  A wonderful building. In bygone days, most every little plantation town on the island had its own theater. 

This one is still going strong, lovingly restored through the years by its owner, who was my physician until he retired recently.

It not only features movies, but the occasional concert. Tonight, Pato Banton is playing in celebration of his birthday.  He is a reggae and dub artist.  Would enjoy seeing the show since it is relatively close-by, and is a genre we both enjoy.  However, my friend from Moorea gets into Hilo tomorrow, and we are busily preparing for her arrival.  

Last week, Leon Russell played there, which we honestly had no interest in seeing.  I did see him perform at one time... Forty or so years ago!  

Words on a Wordless Wednesday

I joined Instagram recently, and am enjoying the all-images format.  We'll see how it goes.  Like Facebook, my children use it, so that is my excuse for opting in. 

My friend arrives from Polynesia in a few days.  Looking forward to sharing my little world with her. The seasons are changing here. We now get less than 12 hours of daylight, not 13.  The mandarin orange tree is producing like mad , and our navel orange and lime trees are as well.  Looking forward to another round of Surinam cherries, and still picking tomatoes and green beans.

We are now into the second season of Breaking Bad.  Yeah, it is definitely deep and dark at times.  I think they do a brilliant job of revealing what speed does to everyone it sinks it's rotten teeth into.  Since I watched a dear friend succumb to it's ravages before he even reached 40 years of age, I know only too well.  I will stick with ganja, thank you. We do break from the intensity with comedies, cartoons, and even the original Dragnet series.  (Which we also consider to be great comedy!) Tonight's comedic feature: This Is The End, a movie that was just released on Netflix, and recommended by my offspring. We love to laugh!

I am disgusted with politics and most of the news.  I still read plenty online, but am SO appreciating that we don't have television access to any of it right now.  I'd be throwing heavy objects at the screen if we did. 

One may gather, based on my recent viewing habits, that a show about the madness of crystal meth is preferable to what passes for news reporting these days. Which would be a correct assumption.

Coconut Telegraph

We heard from a friend who lives in Tahiti this week.  She's traveling to Hilo for a visit/vacation in October.  I last saw her on the occasion of her 50th birthday, and we both are 56 this year.  

We met at a mutual friend's memorial service in Eureka in 1996.  She was raised in Humboldt County, and moved to Moorea many years ago.  She doesn't leave her island very often, so this is pretty cool.  Did you know Tahiti is only about a six hour flight from here?

As it seems with most old friends lately, our differences have become more obvious through the years.  Hoping we can enjoy the good things together that we still share while she is here.  A lot has gone on since the last time I saw her.  I want her to teach me how to kayak.  She has an outrigger canoe at home.

Flashback Friday

Whitehouse Canyon~September 1981

...Where I lived blissfully for a bit less than a year. Didn't plan to move away so soon, but the flood of January 4, 1982 made the decision for us. Several close neighbors lost their homes due to the biggest mudslides I have ever seen.  The road in and out of the canyon was impassable for months, and I was pregnant with my firstborn child.  My husband was then employed at an offset printshop in Aptos. (Remember those?)

Which is where we moved and lived in or around for the next decade or so.

I first heard about Whitehouse Canyon because my soon-to-be-spouse's brother had been living there for several years.  One sunny day, we visited said brother and girlfriend and I was mesmerized by the area.  It is located in between Pescadero and Davenport, off of Coast Highway One.  About an hour North of Santa Cruz, on  the back side of Big Basin State Park.  An unmarked turn onto a dirt road that winds upward into the mountains and a tiny enclave of homes and land.  An early homesteaders paradise, with orchards of old apple trees, olives, and blackberry vines everywhere.  Above the typically foggy, chilly coastal weather, with meadows and forest land all around.

Early that summer, we were invited to live on my future brother in law's land.  Being young, impulsive, nature-loving young folks, we jumped at the chance.  Bought a big canvas tent and set up housekeeping next to the garden.  As the weather got wetter and colder, we moved to a cabin near the woman with the baby in the accompanying photo.  Her place had belonged to her grandfather and she taught me a great deal about rural living, like gardening, canning, tending to chickens and turkeys, and she introduced me to her midwife in La Honda, who later helped me deliver my first two kids, and trained the midwife who delivered my third child.  That old friend still lives in that beautiful canyon, which I hope to revisit one day.  She had dinner here with us a couple of years ago when visiting friends in Hilo. I am grateful to this friend for influencing my decision to have my three babies naturally.  The first at a birth center in Palo Alto, and his sisters that followed in my own cozy bed.  My life on this earth was rejuvenated by the beauty of experiencing the birth process at its most primal, powerful level.

Wordless Wednesday

Recently observed these oh-so-capable dudes in action, putting out a small brush fire that threatened to burn up our friends macadamia nut trees.  

BFF 4-Ever

Everyone loves our bathroom.  So nice having her here. Friends  since 1977, when we met as ski lift operators at Squaw Valley.

I'm Not Worthy

Having a grand time in South Kohala with my visiting gal pal. The beach bungalow is divine. We each had hour-long massages in the capable, strong hands of a local massage therapist this afternoon.Right here at the bungalow, on the lanai. Waves lapping, breezes blowing, birds singing. All of my age-appropriate aches and pains magically melted away... Plus, there is wireless access for my rarely-used laptop here. Always a treat. The man will join us here tomorrow to spend the night and most of the next day. I SO love this smoking rock in the middle of the Pacific, especially when I get to share it with family and friends.

Pau Hana

Aloha from Puako... 

I'm Way Deep Into Nothing Special

This is one of those rare times when the world and life in general have rendered me semi-mute. (Don't laugh!)

No specific reason for it.  All is "fine."  I'm in an excellent place, physically and mentally.  Transform or die, right?

Time is creeping up on the one year anniversary of my father's demise.  Grief has taken me on quite a ride these last 12 months.  I'm adapting to the emotional sinkhole that exists in his absence.  Oh sure, he stepped on my heart many times in the 54 years I knew him. No pedestal required.  Still, I miss that keen insight and wicked wit.  He was SO smart.  About most things.  I look forward to having some sort of ritual for my father when a daughter arrives next month.  Maybe we will paddle a kayak out into Hilo Bay and toss some of his ashes and lots of fragrant Hawaiian flowers.  Or plant a new fruit tree here and scatter them around it.  The surprising thing about his death is that I felt like I was prepared for it.  He was sick for 4 years.  I guess you can't prepare for what you haven't experienced before.  

Over the course of the last decade, I've noticed a trend I could not possibly have predicted and yet it now feels eerily inevitable.

The trend involves friends-- or more accurately friends from another time.  Folks I saw lots of music with.  Mostly one particular band, which strikes me as frighteningly myopic at this point.  Good old hindsight.  Don't get me wrong;  I wouldn't change it and I don't have buyer's remorse. (Well, maybe a little.)

The majority of us former deadheads have parted ways, or communicate very little.  I still have a handful of longtime friends that I met that way, and we have seen each other through the decades.  One of them arrives for a visit in a few weeks, but she is a rarity.  All of them began as friendships based on the unswerving love of that particular music.  When the music stopped, I began to find I had little or nothing in common with people I always figured I would know for a long time.  

Some who resisted any type of lifestyle change are either dead or invisible now. Then there are those who swung to the right in ways that scare the shit out of me.  Especially when one considers where their heads were 30-plus years ago. Or where I assumed their heads were.  Every once in a while, one of those folks from the old days pops up somewhere and I am often floored by their tightly-closed minds.

Maybe we got different things from our days of youthful abandon.  I don't know, but I have been wondering what the hell happened to almost everyone.  

Wordless Wednesday

Solar Eclipse
10/27/04

Photograph courtesy of pal James, who took it on the roof of his building in the Sunset District of San Francisco.

It's Strange

I've mentioned it before. The fact that I spent most of my early years as a social person. Not as in being the popular girl, since I'm openly odd. But I once knew lots of people and enjoyed talking on the phone to many of them regularly. Socializing in groups of friends was the norm. Especially during the lost years, or the years I was seeing that famed S.F. rock band who shall not be named. I kid! It was an active, busy time, raising my kids, working. and maintaining ties to quite a few friends from the often vastly different areas of my life. Then came the Facebook phase. 'Nuff said. (Just passed the three-month point-I got this!)

More and more, solitude suits me. It feels empowering to enjoy my own boring company and the precious silence. Punctuated by the many birds... doves, mynahs, cardinals, cranes, more. It isn't all bliss, but I've come to value any moments of despair as well. Not seeking advice or approval from anyone except myself means far less drama and emotional upheaval. I like that.

I still appreciate good times with friends and neighbors. Am just noticing how much I savor my quiet time as the years roll on. Like right now, listening to trade winds blow through tall bamboo.

Our Surinam cherry tree is prolific. Ripening so rapidly that I have been picking them twice a day.

Dude...4/20.

Leeward Side Escape

I'm in Kailua-Kona for the weekend, thanks to the generosity of my library coworker/friend. She invited a few of us gals to a getaway at her friend's timeshare.

Always fun to check out the sunset side, enjoy the pool, good food, and talk story.

There was a big power outage over here tonight! That's life on the grid, as the man so accurately pointed out...

March 26th, 1996

Cozy Shack: The Damage Done

That links to a post I wrote four years ago, exactly. I wrote it to honor my pal Tim, gone 17 years today. Life goes on... but I remember.

Living and Dying in 3/4 Time

Some thoughts on Sunday:

How the hell did we end up with 5 cats?
Glad we live in Hawaii and have a large lanai, so they can live outside. Spoiled beasts!

Really, really looking forward to my older daughter's arrival in the near future. She's coming for a whole month... Alone!
Poor thing has been through hell--cleverly disguised as love. Bad love is a rite of passage and she will be stronger and wiser because of the wretched experience.
However, very painful to watch.

My new employer and I are a great match.
Not one to believe in fate or cosmic occurrences, but it's a pretty cool thing.
Her husband and son are pleased as well, but the connection with her is so refreshing in the working world! We understand each other, and there is no typical bullshit that seems to be part of working with or for women. Women can be truly brutal. It took some time for that to sink in. I was raised by a divorced and fairly bitter mother, so men were demonized to a certain degree. That made me someone who had issues trusting men for much of my adult life. Better now, thanks to my current relationship of almost 14 years! A record for us both. Over the last few years, my trust in women has been somewhat diminished. Especially groups of women. Ouch. So now, when I meet women with kind and open hearts and no agenda, I am thankful. This job reminds me of my work as a postpartum care provider. That was almost 20 years ago, and the children were newborns, not teens. But the concept is the same: helping the family function smoothly by providing practical and emotional support. It can be absolutely exhausting, like most jobs. But it is exhilarating and meaningful, providing service to those in need. Much gratitude.

Next weekend, we will host visitors we've never met. They're a young couple from Santa Cruz. Both attend the university, and one works with a longtime dear friend there. My friend asked if they could visit us for a night or two. The young woman just got off a boat that arrived from Moorea. Part of her course of study! They are WWOOFers, which means they will work on farms in trade for food and lodging. We look forward to meeting them, and have some projects in mind. Never a shortage, with almost 4 acres of land. I've included a link about WWOOFers below...

Lots more crazy gun-related mayhem since I last ranted about it. Beginning to wonder if that is the new normal? Michael Moore made "Bowling for Columbine" in 1999. And what has changed, beyond many more rampages? But wait, we can't be bothered with him, because he is FAT, right? At least our priorities are in order.

"People who see life as anything more than pure entertainment are missing the point. George Carlin

http://www.wwoofusa.org/

Way Back

Carmel Beach
A March afternoon in 1982
Eight months pregnant
That dude is
Rickey Bewa from Chickasaw
My husband took the photo
When we were nuts
for black and white
Or just nuts