Sunday Times.

There’s a new ginger in town and he’s definitely a boy, all bike and no bark. Cosmo's not mine, but I like him wandering around like he owns the place all curious and aloof.

Today was definitely a stand-up kinda Sunday (upon arrival stand-uppers out numbered the lay-downers 2-1) with plenty of glassy, soft waves gently undulating to their culmination. In other words, nothing for me to be intimidated by and lots of great practice trying to stay on the inviting wave faces.

Nice rack...

The Thinker....pondering "who's that hot chick out there that's whiter than me"?

'Tis I of course, the author looking wondrously unimpressive but only due (I assure you) to the cameras distance!

For the record, this is not my foot's eye view.

And upon my return home the compound guard was waiting.

Cameras, migraines and sailing.

As predicted the Nikon was returned last week. The deciding factor?….well a picture tells a thousand words. I sat on the hill at Hookipa and left in quick frustration as every time the sun hit the Mylar, this was the outcome. Shocking!

And so to contestant #2 a Sony Cybershot H7…the ‘new and improved’ version of my old camera. I’ve not yet run it through its paces but I’ve gotta be on the ball with this test as Sears is not as generous as Costco, only giving me 30 days to return the merchandise!

A quick headache update. It seems I may have stumbled on two possible culprits, on the outside; electromagnetic pollution and on the inside, sugar. The good news is a couple of thin magnets in my bra (think mature wrinkly fembot) and a diet alteration (no sugar, caffeine or alcohol) seem to have tamed the migraine beast. This is my breakfast karma for gobbling up a lifetimes worth of sugar halfway through my innings!

The good news is my energy is back, so yesterday I was happily out on the water. It’s amazing how quickly I lose my confidence when I’m not consistently rigging up. “You done already” yelled a friend as I took my bedraggled self to the shower after only 25 minutes on the water. I wanted to say "yes, I'm bloody knackered already" but ego got the better of me and I just nodded sheepishly and stacked my excuses up, should I be called upon to explain myself. Dammit, busted again for being a wuss…..

Biding my time.....

My trusty Sony camera has decided to go ADHD on me and will not focus on anything, which has left me craving a new material thing like no other.

Except I only seem to be willing to buy from Costco, so I can play with my new toy and then return it if it doesn’t live up to the hype. Unfortunately, such has been my experience with camera #1....a Nikon Coolpix P80.

To put it through it's paces I've been snapping away at action, close ups and just regular everyday stuff. Mater....what about this chap?

This dude looks like the water version of the rain forest chief with the big plate in his bottom lip. Hmmmm, I was just craving a tasty wax snack. This image served me well as yesterday as I copied his manouver and tucked some wax in the sleeve of my rash guard. I went turtle chasing with my big standup long board at Kanaha and used my trusty wax to get a better grip and thrust the beast into second gear, well behind the turtle's wake.

This camera has is the right size and feel, but has an 18X digital zoom that’s useless (think paparazzi pixel quality) and a flimsy little door that feels like it’s going to drop off every time I have to charge the annoyingly special battery. Still, it takes a decent photo and will do until I trade it in for #2.

Polipoli 8th annual Book Club Retreat.

As Nancy and I commuted up the mountain to Polipoli cabin (which is at 6,200ft and within the fog belt of the Kula Forest Reserve) to join our seven other book club sisters, the light and views were beautiful.

It was misty and damp outside but we didn't care, as more members arrived the cabin heated up with the potent mana of powerful women who love a good read, almost as much as they do each other.

As always, there was no sense of survival in this electricityless world as the abundant supplies manifested into one gourmet meal after another. Plus, with the help of Karen’s nifty stickers, losing your ‘wine plastic’ was not an option.

Many women had Brad that night...Michael Phelps and Simon Cowell were popular runners up (theres no accounting for taste)!

We decided Arnold was packing a little extra hummus in his trunks for this shot, while I myself opted for the three ‘B’’s. On my bum was Beckham, on my bush was Bono and on my boobs was Blair!

We knew we’d be in for more fun and games than normal when Karen showed up with a keyboard, guitar, ukulele and drums. “Didn’t you get the memo to bring musical instruments’? She chirped, as we stood there with our mouths agape as her roadies’ unpacked!

As we all gathered with excitement for Karen’s post dinner concert it was soon revealed that knowing 10 notes per song, conjoined with “I can’t play sharps” and the tempo of each tune slowed to the beat of the death march...... does not a concert make! Still, undeterred and with the flood gates of mediocrity well a truly opened, we felt safe to accompany her by singing at the top of our lungs in the key of flat. Twas a marvelous event destined to go down in the annals of ‘Chicks with Lanterns moments most likely to bring ridicule" and 'tis why we love book club so.

Aside from picking our reading list for the next seven months, we took a glorious hike (Nancy is absent as she left earlier to run the trials higher up into the forest). See how nice and relaxed we all look, well a couple of hours later we were two people short and not quite so clean and tidy! We might be wise to include a book on wilderness survival……or perhaps just a trail map would suffice for our next walk about!

Still we did concur about one thing which was Karen’s answer to the question” If you were the sole survivor of a plane crash with everyone present and had to choose someone to eat in order to survive, who would you select” Her answer was Kanara…..who is first gorgeous woman on the left and our gluten free snack of choice!

Almost mile high club.

There’s never a reason to get up early on Sunday morning…..except when it’s for the service of others. Being incredible athletes in their own right, my friends Jami and Nancy are the consummate sporty servants and recruited me to help with their aid station for today’s Cycle to The Sun. The theme was “The Almost Mile High Club”…although we were only at 3,200 ft!

Here is the motley the crew, 6:30am pre take off.

The chalk was a hit and we graffitied the road with ‘tea or coffee’ ahead of the aid station and Nancy decided (after seeing herself in uniform), there would in fact be ‘turbulence ahead’.

I was magnificently surprised to find my friend Rick was on Island and deftly snuck away from my water bearing duties for a hug. Meanwhile, Nancy took to the theme with great gusto providing all manor of motivation!




The early riders blazed by, focused and racing the clock to the top of Haleakala Crater. The later ones stopped, texted, took pictures (with the obliging staff), snorted their baggies of advil and let their feet breath. These are my kind of sportsmen because while the other talented volunteers went riding and running after our aid was no longer needed, I just awoke from a nice big fat nap!

Thus, happily today's antics kept my own motto (around sporting events) confidently intact 'I don't compete, I rarely volunteer, but I always show up for the party' and if you're going to volunteer, I highly recommend the team that is Jami Kimel and Nancy Robberson. Thanks guys, I haven't laughed that much, that early in a long time. Bub bye now.

Olympic slip and slide action.

High degree of difficulty, left side slide with great smile but needs to work on his toe point.

Committed forward slide with a low degree of difficulty, but nice traction and attitude.

Semi blind, feet first making it hard to spot the landing, but a first rate performance.

Mini Me.

I came across a brown envelope the other day that enclosed a veritable gold mine of goodies.

The writing was all very neat and written with fountain pens and the general remarks are surprisingly consistent. Words like ‘delightful, helpful, conscientious, cheerful and friendly’ (according to my teachers) summed me up on my school reports between the ages of eight-eleven. Goody two shoes was also a ‘neat and tidy worker’!

Of course there are always the other comments that seem to stick with you.
ENGLISH : ‘She is very careless with spellings’, this is still true today as my mother with attest.
MATHS: “she lacks confidence and gives up too easily” and “her understanding of multiplication and division concepts are weak and she gets muddled” These two things are also still true today, so it’s perfect that I’m in charge of payroll and so books for my company!

As an aside I was also evidently quite good at sewing (whoopee).

The best report however, was one I wrote about my self at age 11 years 6 months. Blatantly honest I give my own game away by stating “I loath doing Interest and I try to get out of doing it”…what the hell was “interest” anyway?! Jesus, I have zero recollection of that whole subject. I continue “Games and P.E. are super” SUPER! This from the eleven and a half year old me, bloody fantastic. Somewhere along the way I lost or dumped the word ‘super’ (probably at age twelve) so I think in homage to myself I’ll bring back into my lingo immediately.

Here I am engaged in some typical games, PE and knicker flashing all rolled into one, the caption on the back diligently written by my Mum reads "a typical manouver".

I heard an interview with David Bowie recently and the question was asked "how much of that young Brixton boy is still in there"? He answerd "very little". We grow up, we change, we move and I may have agreed with the Space Oddity about myself, if I'd not just read six school reports that clearly show the foundation of my personality and abilities had already been laid at a young age.

"Kinda cool huh" says the American in me, "Super" says the Brit.

Just what the doctor ordered.

I’ve been feeling ‘off’ for a few days and decided I needed to shift my energy. Strangely windsurfing didn’t do the trick, so I decided to just sit and take a moment and watch the world go by. I swear Kanaha never fails to amuse, with its cast of usual suspects and odd ball extras. The good news, I left feeling ‘normal’, what ever that means!

Mr. Kanaha.

Nothing like giving your leather hat the treatment it deserves, a nice salty bath.


I think pre-lesson waiver should simply read "I agree to be humbled, lose my dignity and look like a total nitwit all in the name of sport".

"now on the count of three, everybody turn around.....ready...... one, two, three"

Running up wind for another inflatable tire down winder.....


And finally, this cutey reminds me of me. Pale, freckle faced, double water winged (safety first)and topless.

Monday Visuals

Do you ever wonder where your sugar comes from? Well, after they’ve chemically spayed the sugar cane with the plant equivalent of human growth hormone, this is how they start the harvest. I once knew an acquaintance whose job it was to start these controlled burns and another acquaintance who reminded him of the karmic affects of doing so, as fire equals death to many critters.

Oh what a lovely topic, one lump or two in your tea dear?

Somewhere over the rainbow……. lies Haleakala and just to the left under the pot of gold is my house.

And talking of my house and critters I’ve had a little uninvited room mate for the last few days. I saw him with abject terror on Sunday night, but today we finally met and I like him. I’m going to take him to a new home today where he can forage for food and live happily ever after. In my on going efforts to increase my karmic credits, rest assured his new world won’t be near a human house or a cane field.

Don't worry, be happy.

I’m reading a book right now called ‘The Geography of Bliss’ by Eric Weiner, which has the tag lines; One grumpy writer. Ten countries. Will any of them make him happy? Well you get the plot and it’s a humorous and fascinating read.

Happiness is normally something I feel quite a lot of, but lately I’ve been so focused on picking out paint, carpet, furniture blah blah blah that whenever a friend has asked “so watcha been doing” my answer for the last few months has produced the glassy eyed malaise of those quickly losing the will to live! I was even boring myself stiff but as the book so deftly points out; "happiness for most is simple math. Add up the pleasurable aspects of your life, then subtract the unpleasant ones. The result is your over all happiness” So in order to raise my own Gross National Happiness level on Tuesday, I loaded my truck full of toys and headed out into nature promising myself a full 8 hour day of fun.

First stop a little surfing. There wasn’t much surf to speak of but I didn’t care, I just wanted to get wet, and look at the mountains from the ocean and if I was lucky, catch a few rides in the process. Blurred pici but proof positive I did exactly that. Next stop my beach chair and the reward of my early morning chopping, let me tell you, fresh fruit salad never tasted so good! Another little happiness tip, evidently most of us like to earn our joy, it just feels better.

Onward to Kanaha where I had a 2 hour sailing window. Today was a good reminder for me not to sail with a time limit as it really gets in the way of my flow. In doing the happiness math my sesh wasn’t ‘unpleasant’ but it didn’t merit the points that an open afternoon would have rendered. Still – what the hell – it was Tuesday, I was off work and heading for a lady bits wax and as “attention is the universal currency of well-being” I figured all that personal attention would out weigh the pain!

Home for a quick nap then the highlight of the day, dinner with Lano! Evidently social scientists estimate that “70% of our happiness stems from our relationships, as camaraderie blunts our misery and boosts our happiness” and I think all of us left both boosted and ever so slightly bloated. What a treat to break pizza with this man (and his clan) from the land of downunder, where women glow and men plunder, can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder, you better run, you better take cover!

Time for a change.

When I moved to Hawaii in 1989 I shipped a few big pieces of furniture with me, along with my trusty little yellow Toyota hatchback. The car was gone within a few years but the furniture…. well what year is it now?!

Let me put it this way, my friend Julie called me at least 5 years ago to say that she was writing her Will and was leaving me a bit of brass, but that it came with the following caveat. "If you haven't got rid of that fucking couch by the time I've croaked I've stipulated in the will you have to use that money for a new sofa"!

I’m pretty good at saving money, but spending over a couple of hundred dollars for anything will make me think twice. Hence my home has always been cozy-but in the cold light of day a bit worse for wear. "Life is change. Growth is optional. Choose wisely.”

And so the time has finally come to start anew and all I can say is ‘thank god for Craigslist'! Confession, I didn’t want to have a garage sale because I wondered what the neighbours would think when they came over to check out my shit only to realize that it really was shit! And I didn’t want to put all my crap outside with a ‘free’ sign on it because what if nobody took it-oh the shame! So I’ve discreetly given almost all of it all away courtesy of the ‘free’ section on Craigslist and kept my dignity intact in the process.

So the house has been painted inside and out. The hot tub removed and the deck rebuilt, the carpet picked out and hopefully installed next week, the new art is on it’s way courtesy of my friend Alexis & some simple new furniture is here. The best part however, is that my old comfy crappy sofa is having the last laugh as it remains fully ensconsed until September, when they finally row my new one across the Pacific.

A proposito, the Italian rower Alex Bellini who really is rowing across the Pacific Ocean recently had his first communication with people in four months. The article reads “The communiqué described the rower's moral as excellent and his main concern was his jar of Parmesan cheese was emptying too quickly” Check out alexbellini.it for some amazing photo’s in his personal diary. “We must become the change we want to see.” Mahatma Gandhi.

As an aside and a cautionary warning to others I got a wake up call with all these changes as last week, dinner got cold because we were fiddling with the new flat screen and GP commented “all these stresses because of new stuff”. He’s right - stuff is just stuff and not worth fretting over, so with any luck I’m done for another 19 years!

When you're finished changing, you're finished.” Benjamin Franklin.

Feeling fruity.

I’ve adopted the Square Foot Gardening method of growing my own food and even though my harvest is small, it’s still ridiculously satisfying. Look at my baby water melons (as the actress said to the bishop)!

And talking of food, its mango season and this was my well deserved lunch after a great little surf sesh last week.

There are mango trees everywhere and evidently there’s quite an etiquette to poaching someone else’s fruit. It seems to go like this. If the tree hangs into no mans land (the road or pathway) then those mangoes are up for grabs. If the fruit is on private property then ask the owner nicely if you can pick some. Don’t be a greedy guts and take all his fruit and for goodness sake don’t be found at the swap meet by the owner selling his own harvest back to him!

I’ve just came home from a really fun beach BBQ, the excuse of which was Ulli’s birthday. What do you get the man who has everything? Well Darien & Lisa were the winners and here are said gifts modeled by the very non fruity Danny and the birthday boy himself. The only one to taste the cake was Ulli, as, in the good old tradition of custard pieing it was thrust into his face moments after it's arrival. Oh the revenge will be sweet and swift on this one!