Playing dress up.

One of my favorite aphorisms is "a wasted weekend is not a weekend wasted" and while that actually does not apply to the last few days (or few years now I think about it) I imagine the pictures below indicate otherwise! Happy Halloween :-)

Home improvement.

I think the key to successful home ownership is to have a crew of honest, reliable, affordable and (as a bonus), tasty men to assist you. Inevitably house parts that make up the whole wear out or break and while I do a lot, some repair and work should definitely be left for the experts.

There is also the cheap-fast-good factor, meaning you only ever get two out of the three aforementioned options. So if you’re a cheap bastard don’t moan about the bloke who does a good job and takes his time. Conversely if you need the job done immediately (if not sooner) I suggest you pay well to get the task done right, coz if he’s fast and cheap then ladies as we all know….he won’t be good!

I have gathered quite a collection of men and decided I should rate them. I was surprised to see that getting things done quickly by a hunk –a-hunk of burning love is not my priority!
...........................Cheap.......Fast......Good......Tasty
The roofer & tiler........X..........................X..........X
The mr.fix- it.............X..........................X.............
The chef...................X.............X............X...........X
The gardener..............X..........................X...........X
The electrician............X...........................X.............
The mechanic.............X...........................X...........X
The bug man............................X.............X.............
The painter................X.............X...........................
The lover...................X.............X.........................X

Anyway this weekend Mr.fix-it was here and we crossed 11 items off the list of 14 which was progress indeed, my favorite being the new storage for my boards etc. He created a simple rack that is total perfection as the PVC rolls when I take the items in and out, in and out and in and out which I did a lot just to received the pure satisfaction of the system working so well :-)

Bloody hell, it’s a good job the lovers tasty!

Kiss of the Spiderwoman.

Anyone who knows me is well aware of how jumpy I am. I’ve lost track of the number of times that a poor unsuspecting friend has jumped out of their skin because of my reaction to ‘the thing’ which, (more often then not) was a stray hair or paper clip cunningly plotting to scare me to death.

So now I’ve clarified my disposition; let me take you to Café Mambo in Paia on Friday night. It was lively, full of happy patrons and I’d just finished a good dinner with friends and was taking a moment to look around to see who was out and about. As I started looking over my left shoulder I was not expecting to look into the eyeball of a HUGE cane spider......ok-it wasn’t that big but it was ‘right there’ where nothing alive and crawling is ever supposed to be.

I became an Olympic champion on every banned substance known to man and simultaneously screamed, grabbed the nearest bicep and started yelling (as one does) “GET IT - GET IT - GET IT OFF ME - GET IT OFF ME”!

The bicep moved into action and the deadly finger flicking was swift and accurate as the spider was sent hurtling toward its doom, but not before it bounced off Michelle’s arm (a body part clearly not to be messed with) plummeted to the ground, bounced off the tile floor and came to rest...officially D.O.A.

Dear God I think I gave more than one person a fright with that little escapade, but madafuka, hands up all those who would have behaved differently! Of course as with all interactions involving man verses beast, the poor spider was the only true victim and I can only hope he didn’t know what flicked him.

No spiders were harmed in the making of this reenactment!

My fair lady.

Even after a good nights sleep, I think my senses are still in overload after last nights visit to the Maui County Fair. I don’t know what came over me as I usually avoid it like the plague, but I was drawn to see the prize winning veggies, take a looksie at the photo’s and stare at the children getting scared and dizzy on the rides. Must be the full moon.

I suspect most western countries have their own version of a traveling fair with, games rides and local contests for everything home-grown in the area. Maui is no exception "oh look dear, Colin’s Round-Head Cock came in first again and how about this Cuban Cock, my word, isn’t he a beauty”. Personally I fall in line behind Austin Powers and the things that scare him, “Carnies. Circus folk. Nomads, you know. Smell like cabbage. Small hands”.

For a mere $4.00 you too may enter the maze of community noise, lights, people, candy floss, teenagers, music, strollers, screaming, arts, crafts and creativity (all in a smoke free environment) but after a few hours a break was in order. Like a pair of old people we gratefully sat down and ate our Dahma center vegetarian food and took a much needed moment. That was the beginning of the end as my senses slowed down like an unplugged hard drive; then I realized we were actually fortifying ourselves for the energy it would take to navigate ‘the leave’!

As we started our journey back to the car I stood and stared at 20 people suspended upside down in the night sky, Giampaolo nudged me with an angelic smile on his face. "Look" he said, I did, at the group of 16 year old girls stood directly in front of us “what” I said. “don’t you see”?...as I watched their flirty behavior I cross examined them searching for the attraction he was drawn to and I didn’t get it "no, do I know them”? “look again” he said and then I saw it. The big amber orb of our moon hanging low and beautiful in the sky and my senses rested.

PS: Author exhibiting enormous maturity in the path of a giant Zucchini!

It's all about me.

With a distinct lack of anything to post, this is best I could come up with.






Me basked in a sunset glow sporting my $10.00 Longs Drugstore (I forgot my $200.00 Maui Jim) sunglasses! Wotdafuk .....it bugs the crap out of me that the market can bare such grotesque over pricing and even worse, that I buy into it!

Value, it’s a strange and wondrous variable that ebbs and flows with what ever is important to me in the moment. Normally I wouldn’t be seen dead wearing such cheapies, but going to the beach without shades was not an option. So what price was I willing to pay to allow my eyes to rest for the afternoon behind a pair of non polarized specs? Well it turns out I’m quite a cheap bastard because the threshhold showed up quickly at $15.99 and then I found these at $9.99, score!

North and South.

My sunset walks are working! The gentle massaging received by my internal organs & tissue feels like an affectionate awakening after a short hibernation. Love this woman, her priorities match mine..... :-)

On the South shore it's possible to have quite the Robinson Cruso experience, including the appearance of a second set of footprints with no one site! I confess I looked over my shoulder once or twice, but all I saw was a solo sandpiper tenaciously foraging for its dinner. She played cat and mouse with the waves sometimes flying & singing, but mostly escaping like a roadrunner to avoid being swamped by the shore break. She didn’t always make it.

On Maui’s North shore, walking on the beach for an hour actually takes you an hour and a half because you always run into someone you know.Case in point, last night after ambling at sunset with Ulli, Michelle and GP we rewarded our efforts (as one does) with a cold beer and were soon joined by Max (who has a wet nose) taking Martin (who doesn’t), for a sandy stroll. Delightful.

A work in progress.

Last week someone said “go to the beach everyday-it will change your life” and I believe it. Having just been off the hamster wheel for the longest time in my adult life, I’m reluctant to jump fully back on. Until I can figure that out and am able to exercise more vigorously, I’ve decided to walk on the beach everyday after work. I can’t think of a better transition for my body and my mind.

Routine...I like it but, (like Mary Poppins) I’m also feeling a shift in the wind. Life is short and despite the fact that I have a great existence, I believe it can be better. So I’m fine tuning in my mind, playing with dreams, prioritizing my values and experiencing a bit of an internal make over. I haven't got a clue what the outcome will be, but I'm begining to figure out that removing an ovary and endometrioma may have made room for more than I bargained for.
How supercalifragilisticexpialidocious is that?!

Sunday snooze.

It doesn’t matter how old you are, wiggling ones toes in the sand always feels good and today (despite it being a bit overcast) we headed for the beach. In lieu of water wings I had a touristy florescent green blow-up mattress for me to look idiotic on. It worked well (both the floating and the idiotic parts) until I became a petulant child coming back to dry land after only five minutes because I was cold! In my defense let me say I could not lay belly down and paddle...still. This moved me swiftly to plan b, to be pulled behind Giampaolo’s windsurfing board on said blow-up mattress. Let me just put it this way, good idea, poor execution!

I beached myself after such vigorous exercise and doubt anyone will deny that a good nap was in order. While thankfully we have no photos of the floating green goddess, unfortunately the same can not be said of my forty winks. Good grief...!

Aerial maneuvers.

Freedom! I was out and about this weekend and as breaking a sweat is still not yet on my to-do list, I now rank myself as a semi-pro in the beach spectator division! The pooch and I shared some grass and watched a great show.

Luke Sky Walker, I mean Siver, was going off and pulling a different maneuver out of every wave. I have a recurrent falling dream and every time I see big air like this, I wonder if the feeling on the way down matches the plummeting I experience in my dream. Oddly I never land….but repeat the fall, go to another dream or wake up. Not a problem I assume Mr.Sky Walker suffers from.

At the risk of boring you, here are a few more images from my five star deck chair obervation post.

This is not a dress re-hears-al!

Once upon a time I heard that the most stolen sign on Maui was that at Hookipa Lookout or as it’s often graffitied.... Hookipa, lookout! As I’ve frequently seen the sign cleaned up and the size change, I have no doubt this is true.

Today’s version (for me) was a classic. The subplot is not exactly hidden, some frustrated surfer feeling territorial of his precious spot posts a message for all to see. Unfortunately his spelling (or lack there of) is also on display, which makes the whole thing rather amusing to a UK eye, as we only know this word with two 'l's! 'Kinel, I guess this is in the same family as 'travelled' and 'traveled'...but I digress.

A while ago I’d pointed out a hearse to Giampaolo (I have no idea why) and his response was ‘I wonder how many boards I could fit in that thing'?! So today at Hookipa when I saw a hearse pull in, I knew some canny surfer had had the same thought as the Itai.
I was sitting in my car and got my best image via the wing mirror, but imagine my surprise as the car drove by and I saw the undertaker! (gotta double click on the pici to find out).

Read all about it.

Over the weekend our book club held its annual gathering of intellect, astuteness and buffoonery, The official thinly guised reason for this revelry is the picking our reading list for the up coming year, of course we all know the real incentive to eat, drink and be merry!

Having missed Friday nights highlight of competitive Abba induced drunken aerobics I was delighted to be included in Saturday morning’s group advil handout!

I call this work of art ‘Rude Food’ by Nancy Robberson.
It seemed especially apropos as we were discussing ‘Middlesex’ by Jefferey Eugenides with an intersexed protagonist! One is left wondering what exactly are they putting in the water in Wailea?!

An hour to spare.

Labour day brought sun, wind and a small bump to Hookipa. That tantalizing combo summoned a get-together of happy loop throwing sailors, one cheerful Brit back to the great outdoors and an inventive Itai with a desire to film the vibe and acrobatics in his midst.

GP had engineered (and I use that term loosely) a system to film his session and after a while switched boards with looping fool, Andres, in the hopes of getting some radical footage. The outcome of which was not so much radical as unusable, however his excitement regarding the on-going ‘gopro research & development’ is infectious.

I sat under the shady tree to scope out my spot. For maximum enjoyment the nesting area has to have certain parameters, a little sun, a little shade, a great view, shelter from the wind (some what negotiable), maximum opportunities for people watching and if possible a latrine that doesn’t make you gag.

I only hung out for an hour or so, but the restorative effects were undeniable. The dogs, the characters, the friends, the weirdo’s, the famous, the talented, the kids, the unexpected, the amusing, the beautiful, the exhilarating, this is the joy of.....the beach.

Most people send flowers......

My friends Floyd & Michael are not 'most people'! These are the contents of my homeopathic get well parcel.Suffice to say I'm having a lot of fun sipping my honeybush, whilst eating my spotted dick and playing with my new snatch!

I'm having a senior moment.....

I’m getting a sneak preview into what it’s like to be aged. My days are spent wistfully rolling from one gentle activity to another, which is the good part. However, I’ve had moments of frustration and helplessness at my inability to lift anything heavier than a kettle. Being dependent can also make you feel useless, but thank god that’s balanced out by a growing sense of compassion for anyone with limited movement.

On Sunday I went for my first outing and was duly driven (Miss Daisy style) to the beach. Heaven, a change of scenery and a chance to take photos, paint and relax on my lounge chair. The downside, I didn’t think it wise to go into the water and the loo was a lengthy 500 yards away! I knew I could make it there, but after the 40 minute drive and sitting painting for an hour, the walk back was dubious at best. Luckily my call of nature arrived at the same time my chauffer came in from his surfing session!

Is it just me...or are the coconut and boys head, interchangeable?

Bolstered by my progress into the great outdoors, I decided today was as good as any other to get back behind the wheel. As I reached the end of the road I felt as if I’d dug out of Colditz with my bent metal spoon. Upon slowly turning left I knew I was driving toward the sweet nirvana of all prisoners, freedom! Clutch, shift, and accelerate, or dear it was official…… in just three short weeks I had become a bonafide overly cautious old lady driver and wouldn’t be going far!

I shuffled into Pukalani Superette and knew I was on borrowed time. Basket = excess weight so I gathered my tomatoes, yogurt, broccoli, lettuce and snap peas in hand, trying to carefully pick up less than a kettle of water’s weight in food. I didn’t succeed......

Deflated and a bit pouty I limped home, made my lunch and headed for a nap, only to be woken twenty minutes later by the gardener. Drat and double drat. A seniors life is a narrow one, we whine about the little things like ‘nap interruption’ because to us it’s a major part of our day. We want to hear all your details because we don’t have many of our own and our health becomes of paramount importance because without it, we can’t fully contribute or play without discomfort as we'd wish.

Well, now that's out of my system I can say 'bloody hell woman, quit your whingeing it could be sooooooooooooo much worse!'

Night Vision.

This was as far as I got with the lunar eclipse last night before my bed seemed like the better option.

Not to be outdone, the sun was going through its own celestial spectacle!

When last I was at sea level.....

From my vantage point on the 'lunch stump' at Kanaha, I could hear this little girl squealing with delight as her Dad wrung out the last of his forearm juice in the age old game of 'swing your kids around until one of you gets sick'!
My, my, Fred Hayward is a big boy.
If only I'd seen the owner of this two wheel jalopy, I suspect he'd be just as interesting as his mode of transport. I'm also noting my assumption that he's a 'he'......nah I'm right, even on Maui this just isn't a chicks look!
It's a cardinal sin to be a dirty bird.

Better late than never.

So here’s the thing, when 25 of your amazing friends throw a surprise ‘British Invasion’ party in your honor…..one is not always prepared with a handy birthday party camera. Such was the case for me back in January and having just received a CD of evidence from said festivities my post is a day late and 6 months short of its proper time slot. Luckily, no one bloody cares!

My wonderful friend Chelsea was the brainchild behind the 60’s bash and clearly the Patron had already been flowing before my arrival. In my naïve little mind, I was picking Chelsea up for a few hours hang out in Wailuku….that should have been my first clue something was up!

Amongst the guests were four of my best mates who'd jetted in from the mainland for the weekend. Bloody hell that’s good.... Click on 'view all images' if you want a better look at these pici's.

Everything went according to plan, I was surprised & in shock, I cried, I laughed, I drank Patron and then Ulli pooed a piece of cake onto Sid’s chest and the birthday girl got to eat it! All good clean family fun.

I still don’t feel like I’ve clearly expressed how gob smacked and touched I was by every ones love, energy and creativity that went into an organizing such an amazing birthday. My mainland chums slummed it at Mama’s for the weekend and this was the view the morning they left. Many thanks to Imants for being official photographer and giving us all this stunning visual of Kuau on a Kona storm, not too shabby.

What difference did 10 years make?

I first learned to windsurf at the Berkley Marina and after work in San Francisco I would take a cable car, BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) and a bus to my lessons. You’d think between the skanky water, the commute and the damp wetsuits that I’d have given up, but no, I loved it!

I finally got my own gear and while I was always a tentative sailor, still had fun dodging the metal shite jutting out of the filth at flying tigers. I looked forward to the weekend excursions searching for wind and because I wasn’t that good, was happy even if the air streams were elusive.

Let’s see, tortoise or hare……what can I say I’m the tortoise in most things. So how I got the misconception that moving to Maui would make me a 'windsurfing hare' is beyond me! As a scapegoat for me quitting the sport, my ex-husband came in quite handy. Sure he was unsupportive, critical of my slow progress and uninterested in everything associated with my sailing day, but (truth be told) walking away from the sport had more to do with quitting him than anything else. Not to mention the fact that it was way more difficult to sail on Maui than anywhere else I’d tried and I couldn't fucking jibe, no matter how many lessons I took from John Crews!

So I did the only sane thing anyone would do, I divorced ‘the unhelpful one’ and bought a mountain bike!

Fast forward 10 years and the windsurfing gods sent me another opportunity to play. I started hanging out with good sailors and the desire to hook-in came back. Ego and age were my only obstacles as I was the oldest beginner I knew hanging out with those who had stayed in relationship with the sport for the last 10 years. I keep wondering "if I'd stuck with it surely I could have at least mastered the jibe in that time"? Oh little tortoise, at your speed, not necessarily!

Wotdafuck, on some level it was easy, I just threw myself under the bus for the laugh and went for it (how quickly one forgets the pouty tantrums!). I’m still sailing like a girl, but most importantly I’m now having fun. My good mate Giampaolo did the honor of filming me prior to my going into dry dock for a month. So, this diatribe is my l.o.n.g. introduction to the masterpiece you are about to witness.

So, what difference did 10 years make? Proficiency wise-not much! The tortoise is basically at the same stage she was 10 years ago, but with a new enthusiastic audience and a much better attitude, it’s an entirely different world.

Raindrops.

I’m happy to report that this is as much of Hurricane Flossie as we saw. It won’t have cured our drought, but I can still hear my parched lawn smacking its blades of grass together in thirst quenching appreciation.

Sign of the times.

Gosh, recuperation isn’t all bad. My days are effortlessly filled amusing myself (see exhibit A above), religiously napping twice a day, reading “Middlesex’ which is the best novel I’ve read in a while, watching a bit of BBC America, eating healthy food, chatting with friends, catching up on Posh & Becks via ‘Hello’ mags (thanks Mum), walking s.l.o.w.l.y. around my house and most importantly figuring out if I’m swanky, skanky or cranky!

Now this might come as a bit of a shocker but the quiz says I’m swanky…. it must be the drugs because all I can think of when I look at this photo is ‘anyone for Penrith’?!

I've got to get out, ferns are beginning to grow on my brain............

Ovary share.

I thought of it less as a trip to the hospital and more like a 46,000 mile service! Anyway, I’ll spare you the details but suffice to say it’s an amazing thing that not ovary part of your body is required. So this week they removed a bit of mine that was deemed no longer worthy and I’m recuperating at home and doing great.

It was just a quick 72 hour mini-break at the hospital and after the main event the first drug they give you is morphine. It must have done more than numb the pain as here I am smoking an imaginary post op cigi, and I don’t even smoke!

Poor Cheyenne, he arrived right when I needed a wee and I wouldn’t let him have his way and push the nurse aid button! I’m sure he’s still doing his best to forget his part in the whole ‘assisting incident’ so the least I could do was let him mess with the white board!

And finally Jimmy Choo they are not.......but what they lack in sex appeal these little Pneumatic Booties make up for in comfort. Brilliant.

Throwing myself under the bus for a laugh; Part 47

What the hell, as we all know ‘wet’ is not my best look so I decided I might as well go all out and add a swim cap & goggles (the Jean Claude Killy design are particularly fetching). All together now...GORGEOUS!

I took the little gopro to the pool for a swimsuit addition of my own and had a blast. I’ve mentioned before that I didn’t learn to swim until I was 39 and I only bring it up again to validate my crappy technique! The filming part was easy, the editing part.....not so. Bloody hell, I spent way too much time on this little thing and finally decided for forgo perfection for what you’re about to receive. May the Lord make us truly thankful it's a once in a while past time!

So without further ado......ladies and gentlemen, may I present (drum roll please) ME in the Pukalani Pool!

PS:Niki Viva la cuffia!


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