Cleaning out the Fridge

Cleaning out Leftovers Click to see this photo's flickr page

I'm thinking of planting pots of herbs and leafy greens for the summer, to eat and draw.
I'm thinking I miss the design and painting gals.
I'm thinking there's just too much doubt rattling around in my head.
I'm thinking the runs are getting easier. Finally.
I'm thinking that teriyaki burger was damn good.
I'm thinking, "Pete moved?"
I've been thinking ... "Why blog? Maybe it's time to stop."

But mostly,
I'm thinking that the doubt ... and all it's dark, shadowy friends ... have been really getting the best of me.

So, I'm thinking that it was very serendipitous that I found this:

I managed to find the exact clip that I didn't even realize I was supposed to be looking for.

I'm thinking that there are people that I missed seeing last June that I hadn't expected. This is one of 'em. I really missed you guys; See you in June.

BTW - Duane owes me a luau t-shirt. Yup. Still.

Time to chuck all the ick that has been sitting around for too long, getting stale.

Carnival weekend!

What's that, you say?
You have this strange craving for malasadas? Me, too. I wonder why...
You were kind of wishing you could find some really good mango chutney, too, huh?
Hmmmmmm. Strange cosmic coincidence? Or ...


Gasp! I was hoping to find some Carnival memorabilia, but everything considered, isn't amazing that I still have this stuff?

Okay guys, think fast:
If this weekend is Carnival 2007 weekend, then that means that the 1982 Carnival was ... uhhh .... 25 years ago. Remember the unintelligible team mumble/grumble on the Sound Booth? Was it really 25 years ago? Wow.

Now that's a Walk Down Memory Lane for ya'.


Carnival Trivia:
(from the Punahou School website)

The two hamburger booths each cook 108 patties every 10 minutes. At that rate they could make over 31,000 burgers at the carnival. Eat them your way: plain, teri or with cheese!

The Haku Lei Booth began in 1972. That makes 34 years. Do you have one?

2,100 gallons - over 33,000 cups - of Portuguese Bean Soup are enjoyed at Carnival. Why? It's great!

There are 64 booths and 18 E. K. Fernandez rides at the Punahou Carnival. How many have you tried?

In 2006, 8,000 jars of mango chutney and 2,000 jars of lilikoi butter were made for the Carnival. Fruit picking and cooking is completed during the summer. They still sell out on Friday!

Over 5,000 pounds of sugar was donated to the Carnival for malasadas. Is that why they are so good?
---

Anyone that plans on going - enjoy that malasada for me, okay?
Mmmmmm, mmmm.
I've missed that simple pleasure of life, and I've missed you!
With much aloha, especially this weekend,
-w

Happiness is

Peanut butter and Huckleberry jam! Mmmm.


So who was that whiny, cranky person that wandered through here last night? It’s like they were seriously under-caffeinated or hadn’t eaten normal food in days or something. Yeesh! [Shrug]

A note on Huckleberry:
We were driving through Big Sky Country, going way North (yeah, past Santa Barbara) this summer, and I started to see road signs for Huckleberry Ice Cream.
I perked up (just as you just did, Tony) and went “Huckleberry?”

J thought it was the promise of ice cream that did it.

You know those things from your childhood that you hear about but never get to experience first-hand? They’re familiar, but you just don’t quite understand. So, given this tidbit of huckleberry info (courtesy wikipedia) …

In the Pacific Northwest of North America, the huckleberry plant can be found in mid-alpine regions, often on the lower slopes of mountains. The plant grows best in damp, acidic soil. Under optimal conditions, huckleberries can be as much as 1.5-2 m high, and usually ripen in mid-to-late summer; later at higher elevations.

The Huckleberry is the state fruit of Idaho.

... How does a school in Hawaii (no state fruit) have a cheer that involves Huckleberries? I’m guessing there aren’t many indigenous huckleberry plants in the Aloha State.

Have I asked this already?

I think the cheer goes way, way back. I’m thinking, hoping, before the cartoon characters, at the very least. I can’t quite find the history on it.

Anyway, so there I was, in Montana, in the drizzly grey cold, swinging my feet back and forth (short legs), contentedly scarfing down huckleberry ice cream with my guy, idly thinking,

“Strawberry Shortcake,
Huckleberry Pie!

V - I - C - T - O - R - Y !

Are we in it?
Well I guess … “

“Mmmmm. So this is Huckleberry. Mmmmm.”


Getting back to painting. Did some research on what huckleberries look like.


p.s.
I found this online:
“Hawaii offers perhaps the most unique blend of culinary history and flavors of all the 50 states. Geography, people, history and evolving local tastes combine to create a cuisine that merits detailed study.”

'Merits Detailed Study'

Mmmmmm.

Hanabata days

The weeks are long. Even with one ‘extra’ hour of sleep thanks to the time change, the weekends are just too short.

We drove up to Santa Barbara - - a little earlier in the day than we normally do. Traffic cooperated all the way up, so it was a nice drive up, and the day was bright and beaming, the ocean endlessly blue. The Channel Islands off in the distance were as clear as I’ve ever seen. It all helps to give me a bit more hope, a bit more peace. We so need the weekends to recharge and buoy our energies and hopes, to prepare to do battle during the week that awaits.

The drive up was a bit melancholy for me. I’d heard that a high school classmate of mine was killed in a small plane crash along with her husband and kids. I can’t help but stop and take stock, realize that we need to try to live our lives on our own terms, but also balance that drive with acceptance and a sense of peace with what we do have. I think of other classmates that we’ve lost, all too soon, and the silent struggles that I know my friends are going through, the strength that people are asking and expecting, the reservoirs that sometimes run so low. These may not have been people that I’d been in close contact with since graduation, or even in school, but I remember the smiles, the youthful spirit, and the promise of a future that we all boldly shared.

At graduation, our principal proclaimed our class ‘piquant’.
We all went, silently in unison: “Huh?”.
After Grad night, we all had to consult our college-bound dictionaries:

pi∙quant
1. agreeably pungent or sharp in taste or flavor; pleasantly biting or tart: a piquant aspic.
2. agreeably stimulating, interesting, or attractive: a piquant glance.
3. of an interestingly provocative or lively character: a piquant wit.
4. Archaic. sharp or stinging, esp. to the feelings.

I think they were trying to tell us that we really were a feisty bunch, a real pain in the #$&%, but that they still liked us. At least, that was my take on trying to put a positive spin on it. It was certainly more descriptive than being a ‘together’ or ‘discerning’ class. I think ‘piquant’ was actually quite appropriate.

In the years since, I’ve found our piquant class to be unusually caring, in our own distinct and separate ways. We keep touch through emails, normally passing along, unfortunately, sad news, as was the case this past week. I was on campus last year and ran into the College Guidance secretary, Mrs. Y. It took a while for her to place me and my class and classmates. She commented that while we were in school and in the years since, she’s had the impression that our class was really, really close. I said, “Oh?”. We always seemed to be at odds with one another. Mrs. Y said that, yes, there was that. But, she also observed that if one of our classmates was down or needed support, even while we were in high school, that the class would converge and rally around each other, very fiercely protective - - something she said was pretty clear and also unusual. She was heartened to hear that time had softened the sharper edges, and that the feeling of support and affection remains strong and grows, still. Some people are still a bit distant, standoffish, and I shrug. The memories and ties that have remained strong, they go far, far back; and I am thankful for them.

Yeah, Hanabata days.

So I sit, while J drives us up the coast, closing my eyes and enjoying the warmth of the sun, driving along the long stretch of open blue ocean. I sigh to myself: I don’t remember agreeing to letting life get so damn grown up.

So, I miss you guys; whatever part you played, it’s all very much a part of me, layers that give depth and texture to my life. I remember things that surprise me. Who spoke at Graduation? Did Elke get to say, “Tough times don’t last. But, tough people do.”? See? The things that stay with you.

So, you. Yes, you. And you, too, if you can imagine:
Think of the days we spent cutting mangos during the summer for mango chutney,
being at Bellows on any one of those perfect, suntanned days,
listening to Chris Campbell’s cockroach haiku,
that first bite into a fresh, hot malasada,
ah, the smell of ginger, pikake, and maile.
Got that set in your mind? Yeah. :)
I send you that kind of aloha and wish you that kind gentle sweetness for your days ahead. Hugs for the little ones and, boy, I hope to see you in June*.

xox & aloha,
-w


* For the record, Marla and I, we want to call dibs for working in the beer tent.