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getting some good red mud and dirt on this here body
As usual, the cat wakes me up with his plaintive meow, sometime around daybreak. I give him a handful of Max Cat Adult catfood and a saucer of evaporated milk, and let him out a little while later. I go back to sleep.
The sun pouring in from the triangular living room skylight wakes me up an hour or so later, and it feels like summer all over again. With a complete lack of muscular tension, I slither around the tiled kitchen floor in socked feet (upcountry can be chilly at night, and it seeps indoors), soaking in warmth from the rectangular pools of sunlight on the floor. Dreamily spoon coffee crystals and hazelnut-flavored coffee creamer into a cup of hot water. Stirring slowly, noticing the curlicues of white creamer blending into the brown. Mindlessly, iBoot up my iBook, and check for the day's first pieces of e-mail, and in the dozen that appear am glad to see a couple from Trev; but none from Candace. What's up, Chere Prudence? ;-) (Click on these two images on the right to get a sense of the east-facing view towards the top of the volcano from my kitchen [top img.] and the west-facing view from the nearby lanai (porch) [bottom img.])
At my brother's campsite, the anti-UV-coated tarp he threw over his earth-dome foundation has collected tens of gallons of rainwater. After I've gone one complete round of the campsite, checking on trails I blazed last spring, and meditation circles cleared, I help my brother move the tarp away, so I can see the interesting work he has done on this new project. Water from the tarp pours and splashes down the path as we lift the heavy thing up and away from the foundation circle, and good red volcanic mud gets on me and my clothing... and I finally feel like I'm really back now, ready to start another cycle of work here on this patch of land.
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I've been telling everyone lately that sitting in front of a computer for the better part of a day isn't what one should be doing. Six months of that is enough for me, and I am happy to be here in the outside again, employing muscles in the way that they are supposed to be used: in exertion and relaxation, in play and at rest, all within the course of a day. And no, Laura, I didn't get a picture of me all dirty and muddy, so this one here will have to suffice. It's from Sunday, and the plumeria lei was given to my dad by Aunty Barbara, one of the Waiola Church elders, and after the service he gave it in turn to me (he's slightly allergic to flowers). As you probably know, the lei is a symbol of welcoming in Hawaiian culture... "aloha" and all that. It smelled very nice; a natural perfume that no amount of lab synthesis can approach. Dad took the picture of me on the steps of the parsonage in Lahaina, where we will be moving to, later this month.
Anyway, I just wanted to toss this pic of me in here, to tweak and underscore something Candace said lately, about our weblogging habits as being a manifestation of a bit of narcissism on our parts. There's a little bit of truth to that, naturally: if we don't like ourselves, or our writing, or what we want to share with the world at large (though admittedly our 'audience' here isn't "large" at all, haha) then what are we doing writing weblogs? On the other hand, I take exception to the assumption that a lot of this is mere navel-gazing. We wouldn't be writing and sharing our thoughts (some quite innermost indeed!) if we didn't think that what we say here makes some kind of impact on some other person in this community. It's not just onanistic journal writing, Chere Prudence and I daresay your weblog provides one of the best examples to counter that argument... ;-) Anyway, onwards and sidewards, as Nina might say.
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Oct
Dec
{ net.casting }
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