Tick, Tock

Work days make us happy. Yesterday was perhaps our most trying day at the farm, with dark clouds hanging low all morning, giving way to rain around noon, and not stopping until sometime in the middle of the night. We watched a documentary and then the movie Dune, which we’d downloaded earlier. We played a few games of Boggle; I read my book; we stared out the screen and wondered what the hell we should do. A few times we found ourselves laughing uncontrollably, and five minutes later we’d be scowling. The signs of true cabin fever. And we’re not even in a cabin.

I suppose it was one of those days that you could have anywhere in the world, under just about any circumstance. It tests both your patience and your sanity, but also opens you up to the possibility that time doesn’t exist at all. Or that, ironically, time exerts its weight in the most fleeting moments, and appears to be extinct in those cavernous days where nothing seems to happen at all. Or maybe I’m just thinking too much.

And then there was today. We woke up ready to work. Pete did some more weed-whacking around the mango trees, while I prepared some mangos for sale. Konacopia sells them to a local distributor for $2 per pound, which apparently is a great deal. Once I’d completed that task, I went up to the pineapples and picked off all of the pineapple tops that weren’t growing fruit. I got a large trashcan full of them, and we’re going to plant them on Wednesday. When Pete came up from the mango trees to refuel the weed-whacker, I decided to take over the job. I weed-whacked around six or seven trees before it was quitting time.

We took a walk down to Paleaku Peace Gardens after work—a large series of gardens about a mile down the road from us. I’d been hoping to scout it out since I’m going to try taking a Vinyasa yoga class there on Thursday evenings, and Pete wanted to ask about signing up for Qi Gong. It was supposed to be closed for the day, but the sign said “Open,” so we walked in. It was a bit creepy—a parrot was shivering in its cage, with a sign that read, “I’m friendly and I like to talk. My name’s Harriett, but you can call me Harry.” I tried to get the parrot to talk, but it just stared back silently with its beady eyes. I’m sure it’s a beautiful place when it’s sunny…and actually open.

Tomorrow we’re going to rent a kayak and paddle around Kealakekua Bay (pronounced Kay-alah-kuh-koo-uh...we just perfected that one), which I’m very excited about. Of course, like everything here, it’s contingent upon the weather.