A pair of old Queens.

The invitaion was simple and read like this:

People,
This weekend will mark the 28th Annual celebration of my birth. Parties are planned in London, Rio, Paris and Paia. Please join me & The Queen* in celebrating at Jaques on Saturday night from 7:30 onwards.
Ian
*Not confirmed

Well as luck would have it, not only was the Queen free, but her dearly departed Mum returned from the grave to make Ian's birthday one he would remember! He's a man of hidden talents as earlier this year he and Danny showed up to my birthday as Morris Dancers, frickin hysterical. So we knew if anyone would apprceciate our efforts if was Sir (as he's now known) Ian Haywood.
When the children of the parish asked if I was really the Queen of England, I replied “I course I am children and would you like a Jaffa cake”! I figured the fact that the sell by date was March ’07 would be lost on their young American taste buds!

Details of note, Meesh’s marigold gloves and ‘screen’ netting, plus my 'curtain pull 'gold thingy and recycled wedding dress from 1989!
The granny boobs were another stroke of genius. By the end of the night they'd had just about everything thrust between them including the birthday boys head!. People kept on walking up to Meesh with a pair of stray socks as her stuffing fell out and tweaking her nipples (I think you can see why) as they left. 'kin hysterical.
Typhoo on the left, Earl Gray on the right.
And so to the real gift, a visual he’d rather not have but the laugh was so good I know we’re forgiven. Sir Ian and the Queens……….
As the night wore on, the wigs came off . Wiith a weak (and unheeded) facial plea for help ‘the other Morris dancer’ Sir Danny Kivel not only receives his knighthood but is the filling for the delicious Queen Elizabeth butty!

What a brilliant evening, Meesh & I had so much fun we decided bugger the birthday part, we'll just randomly go out dressed up more often! To wit Maui replies, "We are not amused"!

Problem or progress?

“Live like you’re in a canoe” that is the message from movie “Hawaii a message in the waves” So the arrival of the Hawaii Super Ferry has a lot of people quite twitchy.

Being able to take your car interisland is a great idea, so long as you don’t bring invasive species with you. Seeing the Islands from the ocean (I have no doubt) will be a beautiful experience, but what about the creatures under the water? What will they undergo as more waste is dumped in their backyard and the noise and vibration of this new vessel becomes a daily occurrence? I’m in support of affordable travel for more people but the traffic is bad now...... try adding 866 people and 282 cars to the commute, it's not going to be pretty.

Life becomes more main land and less Island with every change and that to me is heartbreaking. Yet I go to Costo, Home Depot, Kinko’s & K-Mart and am glad they are there when I need their services. I’m a canoe girl at heart, but if my only choices for inter island travel were canoe or ferry, I’d be wanting a ticket not a paddle! It's an internal dichotomy that keeps arising, so I'll keep searching for the answer and let you know when I find it.

Sunday Sunset.

And talking of clouds, if I hadn’t seen it with my own two eyes, I would not have imagined the sky really could erupt into such a blaze of glory. As Ulli would say 'average'!

Cloud 9

I was heading up to Kula at sunset and had to take a moment to appreciate the view. We’re in the middle of some wet & windy weather and the lower elevations of Haleakala were a good vantage point to observe the clouds. The rain is a welcome respite as we are in drought upcountry and the normally lush slopes are parched and slightly jaundiced in appearance. By Sunday I’ll look at the same landscape and it will be covered in healthy new fuzz of green grass(cue Tom Jones;Green, green grass of home).

Flower power.

There once was a lady from Leeds
Who swallowed a packet of seeds
Within a short hour
She pee’d a big flower
Giving pollen on tap for the bees.

My talents know no bounds!

Towing in......

Bollocks. I could feel my truck grumbling all week and today it finally went into a silent protest not letting me shift into any gear whatsoever. Still as my friend Cheyenne would say ‘don’t be bummed at your good fortune’. He’s right; as luck would have it all shifting ground to a halt outside the airport car rental frenzy, my trusty AAA card and cell phone were handy and I was on the road again in no time.

We’ve had some good times my 1993 Ford and I, but I feel it’s time to let go and invest in a newer, younger modal. Jesus…I hope my karma doesn’t come back to haunt me on this one!

Did you get my good side?

I knew if I took the gopro waterprrof camera sailing with me the results would be hysterical, but I wasn’t prepared for how frickin’ funny these shots would be. Here is a little montage that captures my struggle, surprise and alarm whilst having fun at Kanaha!

Honestly, if you can’t laugh at yourself………

Kanaha Hokey Cokey

You put your left arm in, your left arm out (make sure you click on the audio to really get into this post!)
In out, in out, you shake it all about
You do the Hokey Cokey and you turn around
That's what it's all about
Whoa-o the Hokey Cokey
Whoa-o the Hokey Cokey
Whoa-o the Hokey Cokey
Knees bent, arms stretched
Raa raa raa

In mint condition.

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OK-so it’s not exactly David Attenborough and Planet Earth, but I did manage to capture a little wild life action in my garden last week. These two were at it for so long I just weeded and planted around them and they weren't bothered a bit. Lucky me :-)

And now a few words from my little kid.

I can do that, I can do that, I can do that too.......get my feet in the straps I mean!

OK-back to big me, jiminy christmas nice 'kin muscles!

A change is as good as a rest. Part II.

It’s important in life to have balance, which is why I was sitting on the beach drinking a beer whilst taking this photo.
The score from the British judge for these bathing beauties is a solid 9.5 for not giving a shit about how they look.
Here I am on my back, legs akimbo and having big fun snapping that which passes between my alabaster thighs.
I only have one explanation as to how this turned into........
this..........white people.

A change is as good as a rest.

To fly from Maui to Oahu is a long and exhausting 20 minute flight. Giampaolo required a moment of rest upon arrival to catch his breath and prepare himself for the craziness of Waikiki. When you live the simple life, the big smoke of Honolulu is a little like shopping at Costco; if you don’t have the mojo it will overwhelm you completely.

The Itai had the great idea of snorkeling at Waimea Bay to check out what’s underneath those monstrous winter swells. So we headed for the North Shore and took a little pit stop at Haleiwa for a coffee and to catch up on the latest news. It turns out King Kamehameha had lots of gay lovers and Guy Cruz was playing in town, who knew!

The sights under the water at Waimea Bay are amazing..see-the camera never lies! But I digress, we saw BIG beautiful tropical fish, schools drifting with the currents and a turtle that emerged like a mirage from the shallow waters of the shoreline rocks. Check out the little vid GP made with his trusty underwater gopro camera. The north shore is riddled with bays and coastline that are the stuff fantasies are made from. It’s definitely an island of sublime and ridiculous, can someone please explain to me how palm trees grow when their trunks are cemented into the sidewalk?

The heat pushed us onward and we picked up a $10 bag of delicious freshly smoked marlin that sustained us for the next few days. The winds of Kailua were a welcome respite from the heat and as always, people and their antics prove to be the cheapest entertainment of all. To be continued......

My Dad.

Generally speaking I ignore the bullshit around all ‘days’ except birthdays. Valentines is the first on my list of brainwashingly unnecessary bollocks days. Mothers Day is on a different date in the UK than the US and as hefty as the marketing machine is, from across the pond I still manage to ignore it-sorry Mum I’m such a slacker. St.Paddys……just not my cup of tea. Over here (as in half the world) there are those days that should be renamed “thank god we’ve severed all ties with the empire day”. Case in point, July 4th is coming up and as far as I’m concerned it’s just a brilliant excuse for a three day weekend.

So it’s interesting that this year ‘Fathers day” is giving me pause to write about my Dad. Perhaps it’s because I pulled out the old Tesco bag that contains his shoe polishing gear to give my boots the attention they deserved. When I was a kid on Sunday nights Dad would take my brothers and my school shoes and give them a good shine. To this day I still feel better if my shoes are buffed to perfection and when I travel nearly always get a shoe shine at the airport (unless I'm in tennies!).

He was a simple and kind man. On some level I feel like I didn’t really get to know him as I left the country at an age when you normally begin to transform family roles into friendship. Still, I’ve got some peculiar tendencies that are all his and I treasure my little eccentricities that could only have come from Tone.
*Sneezing 10-16 times in a row.
*At a moment of unexpected annoyance, a veritable conveyor belt of swear words will stream out of my mouth.
*No matter where I am in the world I’ve got to go to the local market.
*Fat of any description on food will be painstaking cut off and all bits neatly put to one side of my plate.
*An eye for a good photograph.
*The creases in my face that run from nose to chin are turning into a crevices-thanks Dad! (ok I know this ones cheating as it's a physical feature & not a trait....)
*A desire for well polished shoes turns the task of cleaning them into a labor of love.

The above pici is a self portrait he took whilst taking a photography class. I like it because he never read the business section.

As an aside Giampaolo peels apples the way my Dad used to peel ‘things’......in one long spiral. I like that.

Never a dull moment.

I’m so easily amused. Some years ago my arse went missing in action which in any other place would not be a cause for fret. However, when you live in the land of the bikini clad perky bum, small moments of gratitude for my own rear end are few and far between. So imagine my delight at this poor bloke’s misfortune, still I’m sure he’s got a lovely personality!

The cruise ship that comes into Kahului harbor has a shuttle that drops passengers off at Kanaha for a few hours of sun bathing…..or more likely sandblasting. Once they’ve taken their perfunctory shots of windsurfing they usually wander about a bit lost, but not this man-he was fully focused taking a video of the sand! Excellent.
A bit of water action between the tourist spotting main event.

Buoys’ commuting home after a long day at the office.

Profanisaurus Rex.

Michelle’s bro Mark, (while drinking cocktails between shifts as a pilot for British Airways) likes to work on keeping his announcements cutting edge with his handy Profanisaurus Rex. Mark gifted one of these 'must haves' to Michelle, who gifted one to me, who gifted one to Jules because lord knows, we could all use a few more rude words & phrases in our vocab!

Here's a few mild beginner samples that you can easily drop into your conversations this week.

‘To do a Beckam” v. To fail to score despite every opportunity to do so.

“Agatha Christie” n. A silent, putrid fart committed by someone in this very room, and only one person knows whodunit.

“Strike Oil” v. When doing a duty on the lavatory, to eject a feeshus with such force that its impact causes a vertical spout of water which hit’s one squarely in the balloon knot.

“King Canute” n. An enormous turd that blocks the bend and holds back the tide of the flush, causing the toilet to overflow.

“Snatch worms” n. Tiny pieces of tightly rolled toilet paper that lurk in the labial folds.

“Spin cycle” n. The final frenzied stages of a gentleman’s act of relaxation, when the floor starts to vibrate and nearby crockery starts to rattle and fall off shelves etc.

“Swiss movement”n. A poo dropped in the pan with almost nazi-like precision by a person with disciplined and regular bowel habits.

So if you're ever on a BA flight in Europe and hear "Ladies & Gentelmen please bring your seat backs into the upright position and stow your tray tables. We will be landing as soon as I’ve had my curtain call (a return to the lav for an encore dump)........" you'll know who's at the helm!

My Mum.

Well here she is . …..Mater70 circa 1937 (aka Anne Paley).

I dare say Mum isn’t feeling as perky today as when this pici was taken. She’s just come through her third stroke and is doing amazing well. Still, when you’re feeling a bit off some TLC and good loving attention can go along way on the journey to wellness.

So even though I was just there beating her with a stick to walk, I wish I was there now fluffing her pillows and making her tea. Instead, I’ve done what any good daughter would do and put my Mum’s naked bum on the blog!

My wish is for the Universe to cut my Mum some slack and give her back her good health. She’s been a good girl and with the exception of cream buns, quit all things bad for her, so the reward of wellness would be greatly appreciated.

I love you Mummy. Take it easy, drink lots of water and don’t over do it.

If you’ve read this would you please leave a message for my Mum as she thrives on positive attention (don’t we all) and repsonding to your comments will be good for her addled brain!

Swimsuit edition.

I think I’ve mentioned before, water isn’t really my element. However living on a tropical Island one really must make an effort to splash about a bit!

There’s so much focus with windsurfing on how you actually sail that no one tells you about the other really important part…..how to predict the conditions! In my brash eagerness to get on the water on Saturday I only took my 4.5 to the beach, but when I got there it was howling. Sandstorm kinda howling.... and there was nothing smaller than a 3.7 rigged anywhere, so that was a non starter. In my defense I did go in search of borrowing a smaller sail but GP’s were missing in action and & the Crompton/Walger clan were no where to be found. So Sunday I went fully prepared with my vast quiver of two sails a 4.5 Superfreak and 4.0 Maui Sails which in my mind is really like taking one 4.3 ish hybrid.
In an attempt to learn from my mistakes I even checked the wind before leaving (a respectable 22 knots at the airport) so I felt ready for anything. Except when I got to Kanaha a big bastarding squall had just come in shutting everything down.

Bollocks, I just don’t have the patience to wait around for the conditions to match my paltry talent and equipment so I headed for the pool and swam laps. Ta-daaaa!

and now a word from our sponsor....

Imagine my surprise when this little nugget showed up via my inbox!

What can I say, if need anything branded, marketed, created or irreverently exposed then I have the man for you. Paul Chamberlain does it all, including a magnificent line of greeting cards that are the antidote to any Hallmark moment.

Now if Michelle can just get her new product manufactured, guess what we're all getting for Christmas!

Pee-nut.

I had a great trip home to England and it just highlighted what a special place I live in year round. Despite a 3 day on again-off again migraine and some wicked jet lag I’m basking in wearing the least amount of clothes possible and being home.

Prompted by the promise of prime reserved seating under the tree at Thousand Peaks, this afternoon I headed to the Southside for some sun and relaxation. We were quite the team of geriatrics, Michelle with her newly arthroscopiced knee, Ulli with a painful rib he’d just popped and me just coming out of a 3 day headache. If you didn’t have an ailment we didn’t want to know you.
The best entertainment however was Michelle’s need to pee. Under doctor’s orders to not get her knee wet, how exactly was she to empty a full bladder?! After Francky dug a pee luge in the sand and I suggested Ulli piggy back her in to the water & receive a special kinda shower, this was her best attempt. Knee up, bum down and awaiting the synchronicity of her desire to wee and a nice shore break douche!
Alas, there was no happy ending but a bearing of the truth, that our favorite mermaids real need was simply to get in the water. Bless.

Stereotypes.

8:00 am: Wake up and have a proper English breakfast including my personal fave black pudding , yes that's the mystery item in front of the real bacon and I really do like it!
10:00 am: Step outside for a breath of fresh air and work up an appetite for lunch. Ok-Ok while an Englishman's home is his castle not everyone actually lives in one. As a mere pleb....I did go and partake of lunch in the tea room (slightly confusing I know) at Ripley Castle and it was fabby.

Noon: Thirsty work all that digesting and castleing, so a beverage was in order.

3:00pm: Tea time and of course one gets a little peckish in the afternoon so a small tart (in my case) or cream bun should do the trick!

7:00pm: I had to hav a few..........
8:00pm Again all that digesting builds up a thirst, so a quick pint of Sam Smiths and I'm a happy girl.

Jesus no wonder the Brits are the fat bastards of Europe!

Ok-lest you think my next post will be of my coronary bypass, let me assure you that was not a real day in my life (ok the beer bit was)! However, one of my observations this trip has been the amount of large people I’ve seen. When I first moved to America the sheer girth that the natives could grow to astounded me and I’m sorry to say the Brits are catching up.

Upon entering a household in England I hear the following "do you want a cuppa"? and "put some meat on yer bones"! to wit I reply "Yes, milk & one sugar thanks" and "I'm OK as I am thanks".

Yorkshire Lass.

The Yorkshire dales are not even a 20 minute drive from Mums house and they are a stunning national park that runs through the backbone of England straddling the Pennines. Every time I go here my sole (ur...i mean soul) is satiated. The fields are veined with old dry stone rock walls (not a lick of cement used) and aged farm storage houses. Rivers cut through the bottom of the valleys and there are old trees, aincient ruins and myriads of wild flowers that bring splashes of colour & personality to this green & pleasant land.

Can you see my satiated soul?!
I say 'mint sauce' my bro says "The dales; where men are men and sheep are nervous"!

As a kid after a big Sunday lunch of roast beef, yorkshire pudding, gravy, roast potatoes, mashed carrots and of course home made apple pie & custard……we all needed to walk off the gluttony. Dad would drive us all out to the moors to ‘blow off the cob webs” & we’d walk ankle deep in bracken and heather until we were done. The dales pull strongly at me to walk, explore and get lost in its beauty and tranquility.

Today instead (after only two halves of black sheep lager) I drove my Mum's teeny tiny little car into a teeny tiny little excuse for a wall and caused a teeny weeny little scratch. A momento for her (as it were) of my visit!

Addict!

I had no expectations for this trip except one, which was to be able to connect my laptop to my Mums DSL line at home. WRONG!

First of all her DSL line thinks it’s a dial up. It also requires software that Mum no longer has and therefore will not recognize my computer. No problem, I’ll just grab my webmail from her PC. WRONG! My Mums dinosaur uses Windows 98 and for whatever reason it will not recognize my webmail address or my camera cable. My other hope of an unsecured signal was also dashed, ‘don’t panic’ I thought, I’ll go to plan B.

I joined a great gym under the pretense of working out, but really it’s for the free internet access. So despite the fact that there is no sound and I can’t check my fave porn sites, at least I can retrieve my e-mail from there…..sort of. Over the last few days only one or two of the four monitors has been working and I’m either waiting for a nine year old boy to finish his game of destroying the world one pixel at a time, or there’s a fit beer drinking bloke (yes British gym = pub) is breathing down my neck ready destroy the world one pixel at a time. Breathe Sharon, breathe.

In case you’re thinking ahead here and wondering the obvious, the good news is there’s not a Starbucks in sight of my Mums flat, the bad, there’s also not a wi-fi post.

No problem, my bro lives in the 21st century and has wireless. Having not seen him in over two years you’d think I have the decency to chat politely before pushing him and his wife aside, pulling out my laptop and making myself cozy. Hell no - there was posting to be done! Dear God I can’t describe the bliss, heaven and nirvana I felt at the sight of new e-mails cascading in to my inbox, I was finally a complete and happy woman. No time to waste as posts were circling like planes ready to land at Heathrow, I signed on to blogger. WHAT?! Now my computer thinks blogger is a virus (which I now have on good authority it is) and won’t let me in! Again, no “how are you’s” no “hey the house looks great” no “how’s it going at work” just “Bollocks-Red can you come & help me”?!

Somewhere in my evolution I must have turned into an instant gratification yank and forgotten my ‘let’s all form a nice queue” roots because with time, blogger graciously let me sign in. However with so much time lost and a better offer showing up (namely dinner and Top Gear on the telly) my bro flippantly said “well if you need to log on just come over when we’re at work, sit in the driveway and use the wireless from there’. So feeling like a junkie needing a massive hit I took him up on this generous offer (a key would have been charitable) and the next day madly went searching for the signal. His novice suggestion of the car was no good at all, the front bench, very low & intermittent, bastards, bollocks and god dammit this is my karma for being an addict, I knew it was going to work by the trash cans!. Hallelujah-free at last, free at last, a strong signal and I’m free at last!

A picture tells a thousand words.

I've been taking so many pici's that are quintisentailly English, so for those of you that have never crossed the pond, here's a few to give you a feel of what Endland looks like in May. Which reminds me of a pick up line used by another Brit to me years ago "i'll provide the tea....you bring the crumpet!"
A lovely water feature with no bathroom nearby!
Tiptoe through the tulips..... dedicated to Paul Chamberlain who's the only non Btit who'll get it!
A room with a view.

Yer big pansy!
Author in full bloom.
Headline from the Daily Mail today.... 'It's mass Wisteria!'