Here come the caolries...

I have a ton of food blogs that I keep in my reader. Last night, The Boyfriend and I were drooling over countless photos and recipes... (That is, until I realized that we were both really hungry and we stopped to have some dinner...)

Here are two that looked good for the upcoming Passover holiday... (And one is sure to be a favorite as it has coconut and no gluten... Too bad it is not sugar free too...)


Coconut Macaroons

6 egg whites
1/4 teaspoon celtic sea salt
1/2 cup agave nectar
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
3 cups shredded coconut

1. In a mixing bowl whisk egg whites and salt until stiff
2. Fold in agave, vanilla and coconut
3. Drop batter onto a parchment lined baking sheet, one rounded tablespoonful at a time
4. Pinch each macaroon at the top (like a kiss)
5. Bake at 350 degrees* for 10-15 minutes, until lightly browned
6. Serve

(This recipe came from a gluten free food blog... Elana's Pantry Check it out if you are looking for more of the gluten free treats and tricks... And I love her pantry... Beautiful.)

The next recipe is great. The blog that I pulled it from has great "how to" step by step photos. Talk about looking easy and kids would make a quick and sticky mess of it... But it did make me think that matzoh might not be a bland as I usually do... Take a look... Try it out... Mail me some... Because if I have to make a batch, I'll make the whole box... Zoe Bakes


Chocolate Caramel Matzoh for Passover (or any other time!)

4-6 unsalted matzohs
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter or Passover margarine
1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1/2 cup chocolate chips (Marcy calls for 1/4 cup but I need more!)
Line a baking sheet with foil. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In a sauce pot cook the butter and sugar over medium high heat for about 3 to 5 minutes, whisking constantly. The caramel may melt and be transparent or it may look more crystallized looking as in this batch. It doesn’t seem to matter once you bake it. Spread it evenly over the matzohs.

Bake for about 15 minutes. Check half way through to make sure it is not browning too quickly. Rotate pan.

Remove from oven and add the chocolate. Let the chocolate sit for 5 minutes and then spread evenly over the matzohs. Allow to cool to room temperature. If your kitchen is too warm for the chocolate to set on its own then place in the refrigerator until set.

Break into strips or bite sized pieces.

Hawaii Day Five...

-Hawaiian morning rush
-Kilauea Iki crater walk
-Lazy afternoon
-Nighttime tradition

Walkin' on the Moon... That was what stepping across the crater's surface was like... Belches of sulfurous steam and gaseous smoke filled the air, leaving your throat lasting vaguely like strike-anywhere matches had been scraped across it. It permeated everything and it was inescapable.

We walked through what seemed like a pre-historic jungle and arrived at a sudden view, startling for it's vast starkness. Here and there tiny plants struggled for a crack of life to sustain itself. And for almost as far as the eye could see, was the hole of the crater, like a gaping maw, waiting to swallow you whole.

Down into the crater we went, step after step. My head pounded from the smell and the glare. (Only halfway across did it cross The Boyfriend's mind to tell me to put on my sunglasses. Which helped my eyes, but did nothing for my poor assaulted nose and throat.)

Sound travels differently in the crater. Birds in the surrounding jungle seem as if they are right in front of you. Your spoken words sound blunt and buffered. And the crunch of the lava beneath your feet is almost ominous as you realize that about a mile below you lava still swirls. In places you can feel the heat through your shoes and warm your feet uncomfortably.

About halfway across, it seems as if you have been walking forever. And that you still have forever to go to reach the other side. The unbidden thought that the earth COULD shift and open up below you is pushed from your mind again and again as you tell yourself that this IS a safe thing to be doing, crossing the cooled surface of a volcano's crater. You can almost feel the nervous laughter escape your lips, and you walk on.

Light-headed, you finally reach the other side and begin the ascent back up and into the jungle. Back to where there are living things, and green, and cooler breezes, and (hopefully) fresher air.

It is not until you are back in your car, bumping along the highway, many miles past the volcanoes that you can finally such in a sweet breath of air. And you gulp it in so quickly that you start to choke on it. And THAT is when it clicks into your brain that you really did it... You really just spent the afternoon hiking across the huge crater of a volcano (and lived to tell the tale). Your next thought is that you really would love to sit out on the lanai, look out onto the ocean, and sip on a cool beer.

And that is what we did. (Well... I had a juice spiked with 7UP, The Boyfriend enjoyed a beer, but in the end, it's really all the same thing.)

Hawaii Day Four...

-Hawaiian morning rush
-Off roading in Na' alehu
-South Point
-Flying kites
-Tide pools
-Scaring the cows
-Nighttime tradition
-The Boyfriend ill

Somewhere during the vacation, and not too many days in, both The Boyfriend and I lost a day. Or rather, we thought that we were a day ahead of where we were. Talk about being on local time... We took that to the extreme. Forget about hours having no meaning, days no longer had a place either. It was either daylight or dark. We were either going and doing, or just chilling out. There was no more pressing need for anything. Even yours truly, the poster child for type-A planning, tossed aside the list of things to do and just “went with it”.

And that was how Day Four went... We gathered up our packed lunch and camelbak, along with a truly beautiful kite and went in search of a grand location to fly it. This was found along the cliffs in the soft, tall grasses at South Point. The air was as soft as the grasses, and as warm as the ocean spray. It was breathtaking. The sky was glorious and the butterflies danced along the miniature orchids in the expanse of fields.

We napped on the grass, The Boyfriend and I. It reminded me of the nursery rhyme of Little Boy Blue... Just one of those lazy days where the rocking of the Jeep over the sandy bumps in the grasses felt more like a massage and less like the jolts of typical off roading. I was so relaxed that I was all but asleep before we got there. Awake just enough to snap a photo here and there of all the pretty sights that caught my eye.

If you ever want to fly a kite, this is THE place to do it. Wonderful breezes that pull at the string and dance the kite along. And the colors of the kite stand out like the flowers in the surrounding jungle... Even the streamers swirl better here.

Then we hopped back into the Jeep, which The Boyfriend decided needed a Hawaiian name, henceforth known as Eep'ee Ele' (The jeep, not The Boyfriend.) and did some more off-roading to get back to the house. On the way, we passed the road that goes to nowhere (Unless the more daring of the Hawaiians would like to dispute that a road that leads off a cliff and then suddenly disintegrates in mid-air about a 150 feet in the air above the ocean really does go somewhere...) and took some photos... And then a pretty herd of cows... Of which I saw a cute calf nursing and wanted to get photos of. So The Boyfriend stopped Eep'ee Ele' on the side of the road so that I could walk back to get my shots of the cows...

That is when the biggest cow in the bunch decided that I was a horrible scary being that must be run away from. And it mooed to the other cows to join it. It ran about 50 feet away, literally jumping over a couple other smaller cows to get away from the terrible mainlander who so selfishly had thought to snap a few photos... The other cows scattered up the little hill after the big cow, the mother cow ripping the tit out of the calf's suckling mouth with a loud pop in her haste to join the others.

There they stood all huddled together. I could almost see them shivering in fear. I have never felt so badly in my life. I was laughing because I felt so bad. (Why is that? When emotions run so deep, all I do is laugh. And that is not at all what I wanted to do. Really I felt terrible, but there I was trudging back to Eep'ee Ele' laughing like a fool...)

The rest of the day was good, but after the cows, it took a slower and more quiet pace... We went through the Hawaiian vacation tradition, cooking, showering, eating, passing out cold in bed, totally ready for another start and another day on the island...

Later that night... The Boyfriend woke up ill... Really ill... Sick and shivering and all clammy... After a bit of apologizing for being ill (Yup, always thoughtful my sweet boyfriend is... Like he CHOSE to get sick...) about a hundred times, The Boyfriend finally settled down for the rest of the night in a fitful sleep...

Seeing the obvious... Again...

I saw a photo that a friend posted up about her fishing trip... It looked like she was having the time of her life... (Enough that I can hear my brothers muttering something about scaring off all the fish... Though they did catch fish, there were photos of that too...) What I got from the photo may not be what most would have...

They were being silly... They were laughing... They were having a good time... (Sure that is what everyone else would see...) But this friend is always SO put together... She may be wild and crazy, but she is polished... And there she was, on the boat, in mix-matched clothes and still as cute as ever... She had this silly football cozy for her drink... (As in it was a football shaped cozy that was the size of a tiny pop warner football...) And she looked... Happy.

This friend takes the best photos. Never have I known anyone more photogenic... But to look at these photos, there is something different... Her eyes are not so... So... Well, the word escapes me, but she looked more alive and sparkly than I have seen in any other photo...

And it made me think that perhaps being perfect is not what it is all about... Perhaps one CAN be happy in mix-matched clothes and a silly football cozy... Perhaps it is not so bad that all the coffee cups don't match, or that the only sweater in the car does not go with the outfit you have on... Perhaps there is more to life than the outer appearances... (And YES, I do already know this... But it was a slamming revelation all the same...)

So there you have it... My observation for the day... I'm going to go put on mix-matched socks and grab the first sweater I see, sit at the computer, sip my herbal tea, and be happy for the rest of the day...

Wedding Math... What do I do?

So here it is...

My Dad really wants to see me get married. I think almost more than he wants me married. I don't know why, it's not as if I have not been married before. It's not even as if I did not have a huge wedding with all the trimmings before. Even The Boyfriend was married before and did the wedding thing. So none of the parents have been deprived of a wedding... But it seems like this is something that they want. (Though the only one who has voiced an opinion over the thing has been my Dad. And my brother, Aaron. But not anything like my Dad. And not nearly as often.)

So here is the situation...

My brother Nathan, his wife Robin, and their four children have a farm in upstate NY. They cannot leave the farm. Too many animals, it's planing season and so on... Later it will be farm work and then harvesting. If there is any time that they *might* be able to leave, it would be in the dead of winter, and quite frankly, I love my family, but I am not waiting that long.

My 2nd Mother lives in upstate NY as well.

The Boyfriend's parents live on the west coast, but not in CA.

My Mother, Step-Father, Brother, Father, and my Father's girlfriend all live in Southern California.

The Boyfriend and I are in Northern CA.

Everyone has money that they need to be using for other daily life activities. The parents all have car and house payments, the brothers are working hard to make ends meet, and The Boyfriend is doing his best to make a home. (This means scraping together an expensive down payment for an *affordable* house in the Bay Area. I can hear you all laughing over the concept of place affordable and Bay Area together in the same sentence.) Needless to say, I think that the money spent on a wedding would be better spent on other things. I just can't justify it. (I am also not that selfish to ask my family to cough up the money and make them all stress about it and/or feel bad.) Nor can I accept that it is right to have one parent (out of four sets) be the only observers in this event. And then there are the siblings...

All I wanted was to be married on the 12th (of whenever, but not too far off...) and to have some really awesome photos taken so that I can hang them on the wall and have something to show our children. The Boyfriend seems fine with this.

After last night's latest pushing from my Father as to WHEN (we don't know) and that he needs to be there... And then talking to my brother, only to discover that my Father is up to his old tricks of pressure one sibling so that they will pressure the other... (It's not just my Dad, the whole family on that side does it. It's like breathing to us all... Poor Boyfriend...) I am starting to get the message that he is not going to let this drop. And something is going to have to be said. (Which means a yelling and screaming match. That is just how it works.) And I am dreading it.

So I slept on it.

And this is what I came up with. (After tossing and turning being tormented by fits of endless bad dreams and a solid elbow to The Boyfriend's face...) Let my Dad pay for the wedding he wants so badly.

Is this terrible?

I did some quick investigating and this is what I came up with...

There are fewer people to fly out to NY than to CA. Plus the family in NY can't get away, so it all works out there. So assuming that we all fly out there in June, the ballpark cost of airfare is $3700. And then it crossed my mind that people need a place to stay for the approximate five day weekend that this would mean.

I figured that flying out on Wednesday the 11th, wedding on the 12th, dinner party at my 2nd Mom's (Minus 1/2 my family, long story there...) on the 13th, who knows what on the 14th, and flight back on the 15th which is a Sunday. Crammed, but not too crammed.

I figured that The Boyfriend and I would stay with 2nd Mother. My one brother would stay with the other brother at the farm. My Mother and Step-Dad, along with The Boyfriend's parents would be at one motel, while my Dad and his girlfriend would be at another motel. (It's in the middle of nowhere, there are only Motel's) The guestimate cost for this (After a quick on-line look) would be $1800.

I am not counting for food and so on. No cake. No flowers. No photos. (I must have photos of some sort though...) I had picked up my Mother's wedding dress from her while I was home for Christmas. I have some fabric that I was going to use to re-work the length. Bing about 7 inches taller than my Mother, it is a necessary thing. I was going to do the dress thing for the photos that I wanted for the wall...) The total cost of the wedding (So far, I'm not new to this, I do know about hidden and unforeseen costs...) is $5500. So let's just say $6000. OUCH!

All I keep hearing in my head is SIX GRAND??? For a wedding that is not necessary?

Okay. I'll admit it. It would be nice to have it all work out like that. It would be great to include our closest family members in this day. It would be cute to see my brother's four small children playing wedding and tossing flower petals and passing pillows and being cute. If I were to be totally honest, it is exactly what I want. (Okay, I think I may cry here...) But I also have learned that money does not grow on trees, and this is ONE day, or five, but what I really want is countless days in a home of our own.

My cousin married a woman from another country. It was his second wedding, her first. Her family could not make it here for the wedding. So they eloped. We all knew that they would do it. When they told us all, we were thrilled. Then there was a huge family party for them. Nothing fancy, just a typical family party, all 150 of us together eating tons of family cooked food and eating sheet cake. It was wonderful and stress free. Then they went to Prague and had a family party there for her side. This is how I thought it would be with The Boyfriend and I.

But I have to talk to my Father soon. Is it wrong for me to make him this proposition?

And there is another concern. A really important one. The Boyfriend has a lot on his plate right now. And I handed the proposal over to him. And this morning I told him that I was sorry for the added pressure from my family. That I want him to do things that are right for him, and on his own time frame. And I meant it. I would rather never be married than to have The Boyfriend pressured into doing this before he is ready. I want him to think that it is the most wonderful CHOICE in the world, not that he HAD to. So I just don't see how I can speak to my Dad about it until The Boyfriend has decided that he is ready to take that step. It's not that I am making excuses or avoiding a conversation that I don't want to have with my Father, it really would be unfair and unkind to the kindest man I have ever known. I just can't do it. I won't.

So what do I do? (But before that question, is it right for me to make the proposition to my Dad in the first place?)

(Sigh) Life is complicated...

What rolls around in my brain could bore you BUT...

I know, I know... I've left you all hanging on the rest of the Hawaii Blogs... And I think I am just going to edit what I have and post it later today... Or tomorrow... Pulling out a story for each day is taking longer than I thought and when I had the momentum to do it, I kept telling myself to edge back a little. I just did not want to inundate you all with a gazillion posts like I did with out cross-country road-trip... (I still feel badly about that.) So I think that is what I am going to do about that.

Now... For this Blog I am in the mood to tell the world about me... (I know, isn't that what I do in EVERY blog?) But since I am in a chatty mood and there are too many scattered things running around in my brain to allow me to be productive at the moment, I am hoping that this is going to help me run it all out of my system and let you get to know a little bit about me... (This is not a meme... Though I suppose it could be... Use it if you like... Ah well, here we go...)

-One-

I have three coffee cups sitting in the sink right now... (I know... Do the dishes already...) But I just filled up a clean cup with herbal berry tea... Which I am going to let grow tepid on the table next to me before I take my first sip. Which I really want, but am afraid to burn my tongue. I hate that more than just about anything, so I eat and drink tepid food. Not only that... But after I take the first sip, and enjoy it, I will most likely forget that I have a cup next to me until the liquid is cold. Ad then I drink it anyway because I don't want to waste it, and tea does not go bad... I am glum that there is no sugar in my tea... I am trying to be good. (I swear that I am giving up on the jelly beans this time...)

-Two-

I have gotten into a habit of not making the bed right away when I get up. That bothers me. A lot. I figure that if I make the bed right away, then I won't want to climb right back into it. And it makes me feel as if I have accomplished at least ONE thing each day right away... Sort of like stacking the deck for having a good day. But lately... I have been leaving it unmade each morning until mid-day. I tell myself that I'll go back to bed to nap. And I really LONG to go back to bed and be good to my body, but for one reason or another, I don't. I am up. I am doing things. And even though I am paying for it, I do it anyway. (And I somehow get the feeling if I just made the dratted bed, I would hop back into it later like I ought to...) So starting tomorrow, I think I am making the bed again.

-Three-

I have accepted that I am a size 4/5. It has been years since I was pathetically tiny. And I don't REALLY want to be that small. I like that I have a bum... (Usually) What I hate is that the cups of my bras can fit over someone's head like a hat... A really silly hat, but still... I think the best part about bing so incredibly skinny is that I could fit into smaller bras and not lug around that ungodly weight that bears down on my shoulders. (It is awful and I can't wait to be done with having children and breast feeding... Getting a breast job is the happy place I take myself to every time I have a thought about children. Why fight it. The thoughts come unbidden anyway now... So the next time you see me looking at children in the park or store or any other place, and I have a dopey grin on my face, you will know that the first 3-5 seconds are spent going "awww" and the rest is spent thinking how great I am going to feel and look with tiny perky breasts...)

All that was to say that I (actually/finally) woke up this morning feeling like I was back on track for trying to get healthier, rather than focusing on looking better. (I know that one goes with the other, but not the other way around... A diet of calorie free soda with or without cigarettes and coffee is just not good for you no matter how you look at it...)

So here's to being fitter and keeping a positive outlook on things...

Because face it, I thought I was *fat* when I weighed 86 pounds. I thought I was *fat* at 125 pounds. I really was *fat* at 178 pounds, but that was not for long and I did do something about it... I think I am fat now, but have come to terms with the knowledge that I will ALWAYS think I am *fat*. Like every other person on the planet. (I would have said female, but really, I know better...) So when I say that I am *fat* and I am 8 months pregnant, just smile and nod and tell me how radiant I am... (Wait, on second thought, don't nod... You never know about those hormone things...)

-Four-

Typing with nails takes a really long time. I became used to (ugly) short nails while in culinary school, and never really got used to having them longer since... So as a result, I just took a sip from my cup... It was almost tepid. I am happy about the tea, bummed about the typing... Not sure about what to do about the nails. (Other than the typing, I think I rather like them. Pretty girl hands that bring out my genetic trait for gesturing with my hands wildly while I speak...)

-Five-

I have no five today... I think it worked... (Yea!) Sop now you know a little more about me and I can go and create a pattern for Asian Summer Pajamas. (I am making The Boyfriend a set for an I love you gift. You know the kind that is a short kimono wrap robe and knee length pants... Something to wear around the house when it gets warm... I found some cotton fabric that is white sculls in a spiral pattern on a black background. He loved it when I showed it to him...) So off I go... (I'll work on the Hawaii Blogs later... Really...)

Recycling Question...

I want to take up the challenge to live more greenly... Not a bad thing... Even if I don't reach my own personal hopes, I am still dong better than what I have been... So here's the question(s)...

Which things CAN be recycled?

I mean, I know that almost anything can be recycled, re-used, re-gifted, re-turned, reduced and so on... But when you live in a place that has those blue recycle bins, what CAN go in them? I have seen everything from plastic bottles, glass, plastic, cardboard, magazines, paper, plastic shopping bags, to cereal boxes, styrofoam containers and peanuts, clothes and shoes, even an old computer monitor. But I know that not all of that is going to the right place in those blue bins... And do you need to rinse out the cans and plastic bags? Can a pizza box really go in there?


So WHERE do you take the other things that can go someplace other than in a landfill?

And while I am asking...

What about composting? Is there a good way to do this? To avoid the smells? And what can go into that?

I know this is probably ambitious... But better to be armed with the knowledge and the ability to actually do something than to continue on in bliss and feigned ignorance. So please... Comment... Educate me. Or tell me where I can go to find out better answers... What works for you? What has not worked? What do the folks that you know do? How much is enough? How far is taking it all too far? And not to be forgotten, what can go into those blue bins?


As you can see... I am wearing a different kind of green today...
And I really do need the helpful advice...
Thanks!

Hawaii photos are up...

Hawaii 2008

Hawaii Day Three...

Day three was a slower day. (For me, but I rallied.) We did the Hawaiian rush, and were out the door by 9:15. (It is great coming from California, we get to sleep in, go at a leisurely pace, and STILL have the whole day ahead of us.)

The Boyfriend drove. We headed the jeep toward South Point and away we went for a tour of a coffee plantation. Kona Joe's, the only growers to use trellises for the plants. In fact, they have the whole thing patented. The result in a highly decorated, profusely awarded coffee. The best in the world, currently served in the White House, and simply the best coffee I have ever had. (And at $5.00 and ounce, or $250.00 a pound for a lower grade that is still the best I have ever had in my life, The Boyfriend agrees with me on this too, it is well worth the expense. Mmmm... As the Hawaiians say: Ono!)

We toured the plantation for about a half of an hour. And as a wonderful bonus, the owner, Deepa filled in and gave us the most wonderfully narrative about the process of the plantation, the plants and the local growers. We tasted chocolates, mac nuts dipped in chocolate, and coffees. I shopped. (Of course.) And we sipped our large cups of coffee on the lanai overlooking the plantation and ocean. (And since we both rarely have caffeine, and I almost never, we zinged along for several hours afterward.) It was so wonderful, and Deepa was so gracious and beautiful, that I am naming the Ti plant I hope to grow when we get back home after her. A true Hawaiian Goddess.

After the coffee plantation, we saw downtown Kona, had a picnic lunch at a little beach side park, saw the Heiu for surfers, took a ton of photos of the Little Blue Church, more photos at the Painted Church, and mistakenly found what we need to find for Thursday's adventures. The launching place for kayaks across from the Captain Cook Monument. A local, Regina, walked right over to us, introduced herself, and chatted. She is happy to rent us a double kayak at 7:30 on Thursday, just meet her right there. (Perfect!) She gave all sorts of local information and then pointed us in the right direction to get to the Point of Refuge, which we had been trying to find.

We spent quite awhile “burning film” as my Mother used to say. We saw the old Hawaiian village and tons of Tikis... We watched the sun start to set... It was beautiful.

Wary of driving the winding and twisting roads in the dark, we left before the completion of sunset. We did pause along the road so that The Boyfriend could snap a few incredible shots of the reds and golds of the sky... Just before reaching our main road, we avoided a huge black pig in the middle of the road... (Yes, we did feel like we should be looking for John Locke to be following along after it...)

And of course, we performed out Hawaiian vacation tradition. Cooking, showering, eating, passing out cold in bed.

Day Two of Hawaii...

I woke up to the sound of a rooster crowing. It was dark. It was very early. There was no sign of daybreak anywhere. But the rooster thought there was, so he notified all within earshot that dawn was upon us every few minutes, like an alarm with a snooze button that you can't toss across the room to finally get it to stop. So I dozed until the sky lightened, jolting wake at every crow of the cock. (And in this context, I can say it that way and get away with it. No matter how you read that sentence, you will get my accurate meaning.) That's when the other island birds joined in the morning's chorus. Twitters and chirps and squeaks and squawks... Bird song in earnest. And the bugs joined in, humming and clicking and tapping the rhythm of the day. A few dogs, mostly little ones in the distance, participated. I swear I heard a monkey call out, but I don't think that's possible. There were several sounds that I could not identify... Perhaps they were the flowers? The breeze picked up and the trees, bushes and tall grass joined in with rattles, whispers and jingles...

You would think I would be annoyed at this point, and for the rooster part I was. The rest of it though, was the sounds of the island coming to life. Rearing up to greet the rising of the sun that was turning the whole sky pink and orange and red outside my windows. From the bed, I watched the morning shift into focus. Like a great watercolor streaking before my eyes to a grand symphony. (And then I realized that I was being selfish, so I nudged The Boyfriend awake so that he could bask in the glory of what is referred to as morning on the island. All I got for my troubles was a “shergggrrrmmpphhh- ohhh” before he rolled over and went back to sleep.)

After that we did the Hawaiian rush. (I have decided that this is the performing of tasks back to back, with no great hurry until all the things that need be done are completed.) Breakfast, showers, brushing of teeth (The Boyfriend forgot his, I offered to let him use mine- which he did, he offered to get me a new one- which I accepted.), getting dressed, making and packing lunch and snacks, and so on.

At 9:30 we were in the jeep and bopping down the bumpy dirt road. (I was driving with a wicked look of glee plastered on my face. The Boyfriend was hanging on for dear life and muttering something about letting me drive.)

I pointed the car towards Hilo and started out for the long journey to the opposite end of the island. (It was the starting point for the Adventure that I had planned out for The Boyfriend.) We stopped in Hilo for gas, a trip to Walmart for toothbrushes, and plate lunch. (Which was very good. We were offered four veggies, three scoop rice and a beef dish that was wonderful. We shared, it was huge, and we eat often.) Back on the road, The Boyfriend and I decided that I really am the one to be driving here. I drive like everyone else here. In no particular hurry, with no road rage, happy to pull off to the side to let others pass if they like, ambling along, and prone to stop in random places without warning or indication.

We drove past waterfalls in Waimea. We found the lighthouse. And searched without success for the Heiu. We saw Maui looming off in the distance. We saw the original statue of King Kamehameha. We walked along Banyon Drive and took photos of the gigantic trees. We found the tree house from the guidebook (Hawaii, The Big Island Revealed. The BEST guide book I have ever read for any location, ever.) We ate sandwiches watching the sunset. (It was beautiful.) We drove through a part of the Kohala Lava Desert. We made coral graffiti. (A giant heart with S+ A, it was The Boyfriend's idea. I love The Boyfriend.) We saw the signs for the Kona Nightingales. And then it was dark. Really dark. We stopped at the Walmart in Kona (For the water we had forgotten to get, again. A few souvenirs fell into the cart as well.) And I continued to drive.

I drove, and drove, and drove. (I let The Boyfriend drive for a short bit when we were looking for the lighthouse and the Heiau.) Down around Kona, Around South Point, and back to the house, I drove. In one day, we had driven around the whole of the island. (No small feat, I assure you. I have driven from one end of California to the other in less time.)

And, in what has become our Hawaiian Vacation tradition, I made dinner, we showered, and collapsed into bed, exhausted and blissfully happy.

Hawaii Day One:

Day one was travel... A cab to the airport in Northern California. A plane to Honolulu Another plane to Hilo. A rental jeep to the house in Naalehu. It was a long day. By the time we got to our “part” of the island, it was dark, we were tired, grimy from the trip, famished, and lost.

We drove around and around and around. I counted three ambulances and five garage parties. (Note to self: be careful driving. Question for later: what is behind the parties in garages?) We did find a grocery store before we left Hilo. The traffic cop was wearing white gloves. (I love that) a white short sleeve shirt and dark blue/ black trousers. He looked very sharp. We did not think to buy water, ours is not potable. (It is a new house that is in the final phases of being put together and does not have the filters installed yet. The water gets collected from the runoff of the roof and stored in a huge tank. Really cool, but wow, that's a lot of rain.)

As we wee nearing the final miles of our long journey, we became very lost. The road we needed was not marked with a sign, so finding it in the dark was difficult. And I do mean dark. There are few street lights. When there are lights, they are yellow and our part of the island does not have any at all. So it really was very dark. And there we were, driving along on dirt and partially paved roads we had never been on looking for a street sign that was not yet there.

And then...

Right in front of us was a dog. An earnestly barking dog in the middle of the road. It was German Shepard, small by breed standards, huge by barking dog in the road at night standards. It came out of the bushes and came down to the jeep. It wanted us to go away from there in a big way. It corralled around the jeep and continued to bark at the doors as we turned around and headed back the way we had come. We figured that we must have gotten onto someones driveway, rather than a road.

So back down the road we drove. We made another turn, and there was the dog again. Barking and herding the jeep again. I was a little on edge by this time and The Boyfriend was thinking that this was a little odd. But since the dog was in no way going to let us pass, we turned around and continued to look for the road to the house.

And then suddenly, we were on it. We were not really sure how we found it, but there was a sign saying that we had found the second road we were looking for. (We never did find the first road, we just got lost enough to find the second road, thanks to the dog...)

So we started to look for the house. In the dark. Late at night. There are only a couple of homes near ours, and of course, they were all in bed for the night. So we drove up and down looking for house numbers trying to figure out which one was ours. None of them were. We were starting to think sleeping in the jeep was a good idea.

And then...

There was the dog. In the middle of the road. Barking urgently now. It started trotting to the jeep and barking at the doors. It circle the jeep and kept barking. It was decidedly herding us back down the road. So we turned around again, and started down the road. The dog barking it's escort along the way. The Boyfriend was driving ever so slowly, trying to not hit the dog that was determined to heel at the front right fender of the jeep. And then the dog stopped at what was a break in the tall grass. We looked to make sure it was no longer at the side of the jeep, and there, just past the dog, in the shadows, was the house! The dog had taken us right to the driveway of our house! We drove onto the driveway, and parked the jeep in front of the garage. Looking around, we did not see the dog, so we carefully got out of the jeep. There was no dog. Not a single sign of a dog anywhere, not even a bark. The dog had taken us home when we were lost, and then vanished. The Boyfriend said Mahalo to the island and we quickly unpacked the jeep.

(Of course we still had to hunt around in the dark for the key, and then hunt around in the (still dark) house to find the breaker box, but for the sake of the story, day one had reached it's close. The rest is all just dinner and showering, unpacking, and collapsing into bed...)

Oh, how could I have left out the part about eating dinner at the best restaurant in Hilo? My birthday dinner was at The Hilo Bay Cafe. It was TO DIE FOR!!! Great service, beautiful presentation, incredible food. The Boyfriend had the special fish of the day, a kind of pink snapper on a bed of spinach with a burre blanc and topped with mac nuts. Mmmm... I had the pork chop with asparagus and red onion mashed potatoes, a red pepper coulis and demi glace. Mmmm... We shared a pineapple cake with a whiskey butter sauce and topped with vanilla ice cream. Mmmm... Heaven on a plate. (They also serve local beer. The Boyfriend had one, to which he said: Mmmm...)

Made it home...

... safe and sound and a little tired. But happy. Very, very happy. There is lots to share... But I have photos to sort through and then I'll begin the mass of backdated Blog and photo postings... Loved the island, really missed having the internet. Had a really great time, but ohhh is it good to be back...