Sunday Wonder

O come, let us sing unto the LORD:
Let us make a joyful noise
To the rock of our salvation.

Psalm 95:1

A Taste of Hawaii . . . sans pineapple

Hello sweet friends,

I am pausing from my cottage duties for another saunter through the Hawaiian memories I stored up as souvenirs to share with you. Many of your comments reveal that you have never visited this Island Paradise, and I would encourage you to put it on your list of "Musts" should the opportunity arrive. Gary and I cruised the Islands about 5 years ago and caught a glimpse of each. He favored the Big Island and I chose Kauai as my special place to dream of returning to. This trip I only visited Oahu, but Lily and her family opened my eyes to sights I never new existed.

For starters, the food that I typically gravitated to came served up with muu-muued waitresses sporting plumeria behind an ear as the gentle strains of a slack key filled the air. Tropical fruits spilled from every plate, nestled next to fresh fish and steamed veggies. This was NOT the food that I would be eating on this trip. Instead, Lily's family swept me up into the world of Chinese cuisine and Island food the "Locals" lap up.

Are you ready? Hang on because you may be as surprised as I at what we ate . . .

For starters Charles picked us up at the airport, wreathed us in leis and hugs, and then transported us with luggage to the hotel. Later he returned with two of his children, in their early twenties -- delightful, fun young folks with i-phone in hand and "Yelp" reviews galore to guide us away from a "boring" trip through Hawaii.

The first meal of our trip came after a loooong plane ride of poor food choices. Lily and I passed on the breakfast burrito (is that what that was?) and opted out of paying $10 for a "Sushi box lunch" offered by an airline cutting costs EVERYWHERE -- truly a scary thought. Thus, we arrived in a famished state. Charles whisked us away to a red silk palace for Dim Sum. These enchanting dumplings and parcels of deliciousness made me feel in a fairytale. I downed at least one of everything that trundled by on the bamboo-box laden trolleys that rounded each table, even partaking of chicken feet and rice porridge with thousand-year-old eggs (I don't even want to know how they make these goodies). I kept my chopsticks moving and emerged from the restaurant with a very satisfied smile. (Sorry, no pics -- too hungry to use chopsticks and camera at the same time. Also, as the ONLY Caucasian in the restaurant I already stuck out, no need to complicate that by flashing away at the food.)

Later that evening we met some other Chinese friends at a "Family" style Chinese restaurant. Once again, I served as the lone Caucasian diner, but these warm and friendly people included me like we were old friends. Orders of oysters, lobsters, shrimp and candied walnuts, chicken crisped-just-so, and so many other new delights filled my plate, that once again I couldn't manage a single picture. By now jet lag had overtaken me and I drowsed through the conversation as it drifted mostly to Chinese . . . and I couldn't understand a word of it. I learned to tap the table to signify "Thank you" in reference to a legend wherein a Chinese Emperor liked to disguise himself as a peasant and eat among the subjects, who knew him to be the Emperor and tapped the table in reference to his offers of tea as a way to "bow" without blowing his cover. I tapped the table often that night and made it through to bedtime on the sheer force of the caffeinated tea.

Next day dawned with promise of seeing a "Local" side of Hawaiian dining. First off: Obama's favorite hang-out -- The Rainbow Drive In.



I would have breezed right past this place in a rental car, for certain. (Probably will the next time I visit . . . )



We seated ourselves in the "retro" decor after lining up at the window to order from the gravy-laden menu. I "chickened out" and ordered shoyu chicken with rice and macaroni salad (standard sides with all orders). I did sample the house specialty (Obama's reported favorite) of a cup of meat (mysterious nature), rice, gravy (greasy brown stuff), topped by a fried egg. It was "different" . . . enough said. I will say, however, that the macaroni salad was absolutely creamy-delicious. Worth the price of the "meal."

After that special lunch we walked down the street to find the purported BEST shave ice on the Island.

Lily scoffed at the ice shaved by "machines" now, recounting the days when the shaving happened by hand crank. Regardless of the method, these ice shaving fell like snow into a delicate mound that melted as soon as it hit the tongue. Amazingly soft!

Opting to try a Chinese treat, I enjoyed Hawaiian shave ice with Adzuki Bean sauce. It was SCRUMPTIOUS with it's chewy beans and sweetened condensed milk sauce. This I would order again! Yum!



I-phone in hand, the kids bid us follow around the Island to the "Best Rated" shrimp truck according to Yelp, an internet sounding board for opinions on just about everything. We journeyed to the top of the Island . . .



. . . to find THIS!



We ordered at the truck's window and then seated ourselves in another "informal" dining room (quite a change from that red-silk Dim Sum palace) to await the shrimp.



When the goodies arrived drenched in garlic (Scampi style) or lemon butter, we dove in.



In no time we had satisfied our shrimp daily requirement with a sigh.

Though it was good, I would venture to site that the shrimp may have been a tad overcooked and over flavored. Lily, promised to treat me to REAL fresh shrimp later in the week. (You won't want to miss that post . . . I'm salivating as I download those pics -- truly YUMMY!)

BUT . . . I need to stay on topic here, as I must conclude this post swiftly and be off to Costco for our monthly stock-up trip.

So I will leave you off with another lovely sunset on the shores of Hawaii. This time being on the North side with waves most frightful, unless of course you have a surfboard in hand and a strong pair of legs. The legendary Pipeline crashes onto these shores.



As for me, I waived the surfboard and opted for another pedicure -- beach style.



Once again I flopped to bed that night with a satisfied grin, having had a local taste of Hawaii that I shall always remember.

But where, I wondered, do the locals go to shop for food on a regular basis? Lily was only to happy to show me later in the week.

As I hear the car starting in the drive downstairs, I must wrap up this post and invite you back again as I continue downloading and sharing of my grand adventure in Hawaii with Lily. I'll be back with even more unusual sites. ; D

Aloha!

[Quietly the sun sets on her Hawaiian adventure. She steps from ocean surf to dew-laden grasses, from tropical trade winds blowing her locks, to blustery gusts from an October garden in The Sierra of California . . . reveling in the joy of coming home with a heart laden with many wonderful memories.]

Lily and I agreed that there’s no place like home . . .
but we did enjoy the away experience every chance we got.

Who could help but be excited about staying beachside in a village devoted to serving us with a full portion of Aloha. The Hilton Hawaiian Village met our every need with an Aloha and a smile. Whether replacing a lost room card, flagging a taxi, or wrapping another delightful purchase, the staff deserves a big MAHALO from us.

The stunning views from our 31st floor room,

The lush walkways

Complete with colorful orchids around every turn

Parrots

Flamingos

Koi-filled ponds

And abundant waterfalls

Served as a wonder-filled home away from home.

In the midst of all of the duties and loving gestures extended in the burial of Lily’s beloved sister, Susan, we still managed to take in some of the sights on Oahu.

One day we even arrived at the palace



Donned “dancing” shoes



And met up with a King.





Each day ended early for us
(we never quite adjusted to the time difference)
but dawned early as well, and we set out once again.




We ate and shopped and walked the beach daily for our
Island pedicure.

I returned home to my cozy cottage filled with loved ones, excited to share about all they had done while I tarried on the Island, and a routine crying out to be embraced and enjoyed. I have been a wee bit busy since returning from Hawaii, but missed you all so much that I just had to pop on for a sharing of pics and some friendly babble.

When next I post I will show you my “Unusual” shopping expedition, and food to match. Touring Hawaii with one who has lived there revealed a Hawaii not found on a tour bus.

Lots more fun to share . . .
but I’ve got a mountain of laundry to scale today.

I’ll be back later . . .

Our First Fire of the Season . . .

. . . means cozy days have returned to Wisteria Cottage.

Life around Wisteria Cottage has lulled back to our normal pace after a frenetic ride that derailed the routine we have come to love so much. With Grandma Gloria mending nicely in a care facility and her daughter waiting at Gloria's home to care for her upon release, we of the nether reaches of the family have once again returned to phone chats and e-pics until we meet up again.

It is GOOD to get back to the boring business around here of ordinary life . . .

. . . like collecting eggs, warm and adorable from makeshift nests.(When will these ladies learn proper household keeping?)

Recently we purchased four adorable little pullets (ladies, not yet of egg-laying age), sporting the cutest coats of houndstooth check. Unfortunately these sweet ones have disrupted the harmony of the feathered colony a bit, but soon all will smooth out . . . or so we hope. ; ) Though we enjoyed the raising of chicks, the prospect of double the eggs without all that stinky indoor mayhem makes me positively giddy!

. . . and the Baking of Pies, like this one sporting braeburn apples.(Observe Miss Elizabeth's very first attempt -- a fine specimen, I'd say!)

Our recent culinary adventures have taken us deep into the South for some good ol' cookin'. The recent reading of Screen Doors and Sweet Tea by Martha Hall Foose inspired me to crank up the Jazz music and cook away. Elizabeth's gorgeous pie shows that the adventurous spirit has spread deliciously around here. : D

. . . as well as the routine bread baking and yogurt making to fill the tummies with healthful sustenance and tangy delight.

I'm sorry I have not posted the details of my yogurt-making adventure as of yet (though I did promise, I know). Sadly the close-and-play instructions of my Yo'gourmet appliance produced a heat factor too high to retain the essential cultures I seek. BUT . . . with a bit of coaching from Gary about thermal properties and a handy instant-read thermometer, I have managed to find the perfect technique for attaining the 100-110 temps required for healthy fresh LIVE yogurt incubated over a 12-hour period. The nifty appliance promised to be oh-so-easy, but the contraption topped 120 degrees on my first attempt, hence no live cultures likely survived, though it tasted delicious. After a "testing period" with thermometer in hand and experiments regarding water levels in the "bath" I have quickly zeroed in on the "formula." (Any interest in a step-by-step post? Let me know . . . )

To date I am turning out several quarts of LIVE yogurt in a week to keep up with the needs of my family. Though noses turned up a bit at the first tasting of this tangy "unsweetened" product, a drizzle of local honey and a sharing of the health benefits of said yogurt, coupled with a few delicious dips and delights of Mediterranean cuisine ("Tzatziki, anyone?"), has relegated "store-bought" yogurt to the bottom of the shopping list. (Though it is nice to know I can still buy that yummy tangy Bulgarian yogurt at my little market in a pinch -- if there remains any on the shelf after delivery, that is . . . it goes F-A-S-T!) The buying of Greek God's brand "Honey" yogurt will become a treat, like ice cream -- a once-in-a-while yummy treat.

I wax joyfully over the ordinary miracles in a day and celebrate the peacefulness that reigns in our routine around Wisteria Cottage even as I pack for a trip taking me far away from home. This coming Sunday I shall accompany my dear friend Lily to Honolulu, Hawaii to attend the funeral of her sweet sister Susan. Lily and I will reside for several days at the Hilton Hawaiian Village and enjoy the tropical breezes, fresh seafood, and relaxed life of Hawaii, where both Susan and Lily lived for many years.

So, as I will not be carrying my laptop with me to Hawaii, my blog will lie fallow on holiday as will I. When I return my camera will surely spill with gifts for all to share here. Though I have visited Hawaii before, I choose to leave the busy tourist pace behind on this trip, preferring to R-E-L-A-X after such a busy time of late.

When next I post I shall sport a tropical glow
and new tropical tales to share.

Until then . . .

ALOHA!

Fall Has Fallen Upon Us

Of late I have taken little time to notice the dancers in bejeweled leaves stepping up to join the flounced roses who flit merrily in the gardens on the autumn breezes we welcome so eagerly.

Surely the change did not take place overnight . . . but then, the nights have been long around here . . .

Another wave of sadness has washed over our family, as our dear friend Susan (sister to my sweet, sweet friend Lily) has gone to be with the Lord.

(left to right: Susan, Lily, Lydia)

A brain hemorrhage has quickly taken another of our loved ones home to be with the Lord.

Though we have only known Susan for the past year, it has been a sweet, sweet friendship. Susan suffered from Alzheimer’s. When her husband passed away last November she came from Honolulu, HI to live with her younger sister Lily and her husband Chef Karl. Throughout the year we have celebrated at table with them. Each time we gathered, Susan “met” us for the first time and had a delightful time getting to know us.

This past Labor day (as I shared earlier), we congregated around the BBQ once again. Much to our delight Susan remarked that she remembered being here before. She also remembered Rachel. What a delight! What a gift to see that we had opened a tiny crack in her memory and slipped in to stay. We celebrated with an extra measure of joy that day, which proved to be our last gathering together.

Susan’s sudden departure has left all of us numb. We lost someone special who bestowed a special gift upon us. My children have had the honor of growing up around all different sorts of people with all different levels and abilities. The special needs of my boys have naturally made us a fertile meeting place for many who endure hardships and obstacles in this world given over to averages, statistics, and “typical.” As the experts count and quantify “normal,” we gently recede to the edges and lay out a picnic in the meadow, choosing to dine with delight on what we have been chosen to receive. Many other travelers join us for refreshment along life’s winding way. The World generally classifies us as “burdened,” but those who stop and join us for a spell see gifts rather than yokes, laughter rather tears. That little “extra” something we deal with sparkles into extra-ordinary – lifting us above the fray when we choose to rejoice rather than sulk.

Tears surely fall today . . . emotions run high in a typical week around Wisteria Cottage, and this past week or so has been A-typical, to be certain. Tears of joy slip down as we see Grandma/Gloria grow stronger each day without a single sign of handicap emerging in the aftermath of the meningitis. Later, a tear of sorrow wends its way down my cheek as I think of Susan and her sweet invites to come see her in Honolulu – she never realized she had left Honolulu to live in Grass Valley. Gary smiled and noted that she lived on vacation every day – what a great way to live!

I think I shall tuck that little bit of memory in my heart and strive to live every day on vacation. Worry wart that I am, I need a dose of Honolulu now and again – Susan always obliged with a grin topped by dancing eyes as she told me about her beautiful Hawaiian home. I shall savor recollections of her smiling face, compliments on my garden (she said it reminded her of her growing up years in Taiwan when they lived in a lush landscape), and sweet moments with my family. Though her short-term memory leaked like a sieve, her long-term memory shared stories of growing up in China with delightful tales of her parents’ match-made romance, attendance at catholic schools and its awful food, moving to America, and so much more told with laughter and joy. She lived a wonderfully exciting life and God let her keep those happy memories from long ago. We made new memories with Susan that she couldn’t hold onto . . .

but we could, and we cherish them.

Lily, thank you for sharing your sister with us this past year.
She blessed us with such sweet gifts.