Bear With Me Please

I wrote a post earlier about fiberglass cows, eagles, furniture, pigs and pandas around various cities around the world.

As you know, I'm working on going through all my photo files and creating a set of 5 photobooks spanning 50 + years for the kids and us. I say us because Art says our memory is failing and it helps to look at the pictures to know what happened and when. He's being kind. He knows it's me who's getting forgetful. 

Anyway, I was looking at the 2004 photo files and found this summer trip we took with (daughter) Tif and Ed to visit (son) Keola and Sarah in Washington, D.C. Fiberglass pandas were all over the capital. I realize now that knowing who sponsored the pandas made it even more interesting. 

This panda was at the airport.

Pandachine 
by Sandie Bacon

Sponsor: National Air and Space Museum

Bears in Space 
by Millenium Mind

Sponsor: National Air and Space Museum

Bearly Discernable 

by Wendy Garner

Sponsor:  National Museum of Natural History.

Ten Thousand Happiness 

by Jiashan Mu

Sponsor:  The Embassy of the People's Republic of China

Panda of the Opera 

by Mary Howe Kiraly

Sponsor:  Cafe Milano

Baggy Bear by Robert Alston 

Sponsor: The Museum of Bags. 

I didn't even know there was a museum for bags.

Pandragon I 

by Tita Rutledge

Sponsor: Design Cuisine

Chocolate Dipped Strawbeary 

by Debbie Smith Mezzetta 

Sponsor:  Caribou Coffee

Honey Pot Panda 

by Millennium Mind 

Sponsor: Golden Triangle BID, Corp.

Hmmm... Gold dealers?

 

Pandillusion 

by Emily Tellez 

Sponsor: August, Lang & Husak.

Accessories are 

What Separates Us 

From the Animals 

by Chad Alan and his friends

 Sponsor:  Tiny Jewel Box.

Climbing Pandas 

by Zoara Janosova

Will You Miss Us? 

by Jeannette Murphy

I'm pretty sure this was at the Smithsonian Zoo.

Perennial Panda

by John Bledsoe

Sponsor: D.C. Mrriott & Renaissance Hotels

Thank you for bearing with me. I hope you enjoyed the creativity and sense of humor of these D.C. artists.

Chairs to Cherish

I'm working on our 5 photobook set spanning 50+ years of our lives. I'm on 2003 and came across photos of when our son returned from the Peace Corps and settled in Washington, D.C. He and Sarah invited us over for Thanksgiving but didn't have enough furniture in their basement (garden) apartment. 

Therefore, crazy people that Art and I seem, we packed our two plastic lawn chairs in our van and drove cross country from Illinois. Keola and Sarah prepared our Thanksgiving meal with all its fixings and we had a great time.

(I just noticed that they were using plastic lawn chairs in their apartment too.) 😄 

The first time I find those white plastic chairs in my photo file is in 2001.

We were on some other road trip and saw those chairs on sale some place. I think maaaybe it was something like $6 a piece. Whatever it was, it was too good to pass up. They were on our deck at first, but we began using them in the family room after we gave our loveseat to our daughter who was moving into her own condo.

We brought the chairs with us when we moved to Hawaii in 2008. And now, here we are with our 18 year old chairs and it sits outside on our patio. It's a convenient place for us to sit where we can put on/take off our shoes.

When my brother came to visit with mom during the pandemic we had them sit outside on those comfortable lawn chairs to chat.

Since plastic seems to deteriorate faster in Hawaii I thought our trusty chairs might also disintegrate, but it's still doing fine. 

Do you have any furniture that you just can't let go?

Noodles, Noodles Everywhere

Mom has never met a noodle she didn't like. Yes, she likes spaghetti just fine. 

However, I think her favorite is wun tun min.

Saimin is the local comfort food. A lot of people like to go to Shiro's, Zippy's, Sekiya's or a number of other places to have this local Hawaiian staple.

There's also fried saimin which is the same noodles but fried with kamaboko (fish cake) and other veggies.

Mom likes LOVES wun tun min which is saimin with little pork dumplings in broth. This might be her favorite noodle. Maybe.

Udon are just thicker noodles in chicken or beef broth. My daughter and family love it and will go to Marukame Udon multiple times when they're in Waikiki.

I've always wondered about the difference between saimin and ramen and found this on EATER website:

"Saimin noodles are similar to ramen, but the dough has more eggs and a higher concentration of ash. These ingredients give the noodles an intense flavor and a chewier texture."

Ash? Seriously?

When we went to Japan she's loved ramen and soba. Ramen in curry sauce had everything mom likes. 

Soba noodles are made with buckwheat. And yes, mom liked that too.

When Art and I were in Thailand, we got to try Pad Thai where we figured it originated. Pad Thai literally means 'Thai-style stir fried noodles."

Uuummm... It tasted just like it does in Chicago or Hawaii and we did love it just as much.

We were also excited about trying pho in Vietnam since it is supposed to be their national dish.

Yes. It was wonderful, really wonderful.

And yes, we've enjoyed pho right here in Hawaii too.

When we were in Chicago, our Korean-American son-in-law had us try jajangmyeon. Art really liked it. However, with all the dark sauce the noodles looked black. I saw in the newspaper that jajangmyeon is eaten on holidays, and April 14th (dedicated to single people) which is called Black Day. Is there some kind of subtle Korean message here?

We like pancit too which is the Filipino noodle dish. The Star Advertiser says there are two popular versions. Pancit canton and pancit bihon. Pancit canton is flour stick noodles while pancit bihon is made with thin rice vermicelli. I think I've only had the pancit bihon.

Despite the fact that mom loves wun tun min she is very partial to chow mein, especially Panda Express' chow mein.

Hmmm... You know what? We haven't taken her to Zippy's for wun tun min in several months because of the pandemic, but since she's gotten her Pfizer booster, I think it might be time to visit Nora, our favorite waitress there.

Star Fruit (Not Star Apple)

During one of our morning walks we passed by a house with tons of fruit dangling from the branches.

"Wow! That's a lot of star apples!" exclaimed Art.

There was even fruit strewn around the sidewalk below. 

"It's star fruit," I corrected him. It's also called Carambola. I didn't know it might help prevent cancer according to this WebMD article. 

We have these little discussions every so often. 🙄 I grew up on Oahu. He grew up on the Big Island (or what they call Hawaii Island now) and we have a difference of opinion on a few things. They call the correctly identified shave ice as ice shave. 

A few days later, my brother stopped by with some star FRUIT that someone had shared with them. 

I'm not a fan. The only time I was willing to eat it was as a child feeling rather starved as I walked those 5 miles (I'm told it was more like 2 miles) home from school... uphill... in blinding snow... just kidding. There was one neighbor whose star fruit tree had tons of fruit hanging over the fence (for kids, we figured).

And here is why it's called a star fruit.

I just looked up star fruit and do you know there are actually some other people who call it star apple? 

Art is the one who likes star fruit at our house, but we shared one with a friend who said she loves them with li hing mui powder. Wow! I've never heard of doing that, but now I'm curious what that would taste like.

Mom was passing by the kitchen and I told her Dennis had brought over some star fruit.

"Ahhh..." she said, "Five Fingers!"

Handy Dandy Stool

OK... Now you'll know I'm digging deep (into my closet) for a blog post. If this pandemic lasts a whole lot longer, you'll know what's in every nook and cranny of our house.

A friend of mine has some mobility issues and it brought to mind something we used on trips for mom when she had a problem with her knees. We did bring a wheelchair for a couple of trips to Japan for her but it's not the most convenient of items to travel with.

In 2013, we were planning a trip to see various canyons on the mainland. We saw Zion, Bryce, Arches, Antelope, Grand, etc. 

It crossed our minds that mom might tire so when we saw this portable, lightweight stool for about $10 at Don Quijote market, we decided to try it out.

Well... it was a godsend at one place we didn't expect. We were just done touring through the amazing Antelope Canyon when we learned that our touring truck had broken down and they needed to get another one. It took at least 45 for another one to arrive. 

The stool was comfortable for mom and she was very happy. I wished I had another one for the other elder member in the group.

OK... I'm going to put the stool away in the closet and look for something else to blog about. 😁

Another ER Visit!

I was feeling pretty good about not breaking any bones or having any sort of emergency that would require an ER visit. In fact, we've been avoiding going to the hospital where COVID viruses could be lurking and waiting to hit us while our two Pfizers are perhaps losing their efficacy.

We got our annual high dose flu shots on October 4th. Soon afterwards, my ears felt plugged like I was in a cavern. I'm not saying they're connected, but I'd never had my ears plugged for a long period of time like this. 

On Sunday afternoon, while working on the computer around 3:00, I suddenly got hit by a wave of vertigo. I had to lie down. Every time I thought I was OK and moved my head, I'd get that wave of vertigo and then nausea. 

OK... I figured I'd better make an appointment with Tripler Hospital soon. Art came up and found me on the bed and insisted instead on going to the ER....now! 

While driving to the ER, I felt like things were settling down. Still I was wondering if I had a brain tumor like my paternal grandfather. Maybe I should tell Art how to finish the family photobook I was working on. Maybe I should tell him how to inform bloggers why I wasn't posting... (yeah... I get crazy sometimes.)

We checked in at Tripler around 4:40. The nurses were all so super cheerful and friendly, I was amazed. The ER was filled and I told Art to wait in the car after they checked me in (because of COVID rules, I'm sure).

The doctor came in at 6:05 and was absolutely wonderful! My blood pressure had shot up to 153/137 earlier. He said not to worry. It's just from being in the ER and what I was experiencing.

I told him I was actually starting to feel fine. "Really. Maybe I should just go home." 

"Not to worry," he said. "That happens sometimes with my family too when they go to the hospital." 

He had me lie down and turn my head to the left for several seconds and WHAM the vertigo returned! "Yup," he said. "I could see it in your eyes." (Hmmm...I wonder what that looked like.)

He looked in my ears with that ear checking flashlight thingy and said, "Your ears are clear. No ear infection." (I knew my ears would be clear because I have wet ear wax. And I didn't have any pain so didn't think I had an infection.)

He explained how I probably had crystals (who knew???) in my inner (especially left side) ear and prescribed the Modified Epley maneuver to get them to move off or whatever. He also gave me an anti-nausea medication.

https://newsnetwork.mayoclinic.org/discussion/mayo-clinic-q-and-a-bppv-dizziness-caused-by-inner-ear-crystals/

So here I am... back at my computer and hoping that things settle down. 

You know what? I have to hand it to the doctors and nurses at Tripler. Despite the screaming children, ambulances coming in, and patients in all the curtained stations, they were as kind, super patient, friendly and cheerful as can be. They really are heroes!

Socks for My Chairs

We stopped by Daiso (100 yen store) recently just for the fun of it. Daiso is a very popular $1.50 store here in Hawaii. We used to always go to Daiso whenever we traveled to Japan just to buy some fun approximately $1 items.

I picked up some cute stickers to use on letters to my grandsons, freezer bags, gift envelopes for mom, etc. Then something quite different caught my eye. 

I've been using these plastic chair bottoms to prevent scratches on our flooring.

They're OK, but a couple of them cracked. I wasn't paying attention and the nail that was now exposed could have gouged the flooring. 

I pulled out the nail and covered the bottoms of the two chair legs with felt and tied them with a strong cord. They were starting to slip off.

So look what I just saw at Daiso. They're chair leg covers. They look like socks to me. (I wonder how long they'll last before wearing out.) Art thought these were cuter than the plain ones I was choosing. He thought our grandsons (whenever they're able to visit us again) would think the puppies are cuter.

But then, I just looked at the fine print. They're not puppies! They're sloths! 

Ah well... 

Next time, maybe they'll have dinosaurs.

Spiritual Legacy

Myra’s Question of the Day:

What spiritual legacy would you like to leave for others? Why is this important to you?

When our kids were little and we were living in Illinois, we wanted them to learn about all the religions. Our daughter went to a Catholic Pre-School. For kindergarten she went 1/2 day to the Catholic school and 1/2 day to the public school. Our son went to a Presbyterian pre-school when he was 3 and switched over to the Catholic preschool when he was 4 and then moved to public school for kindergarten. We had close friends who were Jewish so our kids went to many bar/bat mitzvahs and celebrations with them. Whenever we returned to Hawaii for visits they experienced Buddhist celebrations and services. 

When my brother and I were growing up, we were within walking distance to the Soto Mission (Zen) Temple that my family belonged to. We went to Sunday School and were given the gift of Buddhist teachings to help us navigate our lives. What stays with me until now is Kindness. To think “right thought, right speech, right action and to respect the lives of others, of nature, and honesty. I remember the peace of the temple and the kindness of our obonsan (priest) and his wife. 

Buddhism provided me with the peace I needed. Art went to the Hongwanji Temple on the Big Island which is just another sect of Buddhism but teaches the same sort of basic truths which is to think of others and to treat each other with kindness.

However, we wanted our children to experience, respect and understand how others believed also. We are happy knowing they try to be the best they can be, but it’s difficult for them to understand the intolerance of others, and I guess we have a hard time with that to.

POSTSCRIPT:

I forgot to write again what I learned from my grandfather who was a Zen priest in Sendai. 

When I visited him in Japan in 1970, I asked him what the best religion was. Of course, I expected him to say Buddhism. I was surprised when he said, "There is no best religion. The best religion is what a person does with it." He mentioned how he worked with Brother Dutton serving the victims of Hansen's Disease (leprosy) at Kalaupapa on Molokai in 1928 and how much he admired him. So yes, I agree. In the end, it's what you do with or without your religion that makes it and you the best. (This photo shows my grandfather kneeling at the gravesite of Father Dutton who died in 1931.)

Sam's Club Self Service App

We do some of our shopping at Sam's Club on Tuesdays during that 7:00 Senior Hour. We feel safer with the limited amount of people.

Last Tuesday, one of the attendants approached us when we were doing the self check-out. 

Yes, yes. I know you're looking at the not very healthy Coke Zero and Tostitos chips. However, I want you to give us credit for the giant bag of mixed vegetables, apples and blueberries (never mind that I'm going to make a few blueberry muffins for Art and mom).

Going back to the check-out. The attendant told us that for a $10 credit, we could open a Scan and Go app. That way, when the pandemic ends and we go shopping when there's a crowd, we can scan our own things with our cellphone, pay with the credit card that will be on file, get a QR code picture which they'll scan as you're leaving and you're out the door.

Sounded OK, so we did it. The attendant had a QR code thing on her lanyard which she then had us scan so we'd get the $10 credit. 

Yes, she helped us quite a bit because... let's face it, we're not my techie son-in-law. 

I looked up this Scan and Go thing on the Sam's Club website. But if you do it online, I wonder if you can get that $10 credit. 

https://www.samsclub.com/content/scan-and-go

I saw in the Star Advertiser that of those Hawaii residents eligible to receive the COVID-19 vaccine, 90% have received at least one dose. 😄

This is good news and it's hopeful that the day will come soon that we don't have to go shopping so early. 🤞

What's In a Name?

I recently had a text from a wonderful friend telling me about a childhood buddy who was a "midget." I confess I wasn't aware before that it was not the appropriate term to use until another friend had a bright and beautiful grandchild who was a little person.

I got this from the Little People of America website:

"Little People of America, the world’s oldest and largest dwarfism support organization and an international, membership-based organization for people with dwarfism and their families, advocates to abolish the use of the word “midget”.  The word “midget” was never coined as the official term to identify people with dwarfism, but was created as a label used to refer to people of short stature who were on public display for curiosity and sport.  Today, the word “midget” is considered a derogatory slur. The dwarfism community has voiced that they prefer to be referred to as dwarfs, little people, people of short stature or having dwarfism, or simply, and most preferably, by their given name."

And all this got me thinking.

African American people were called a number of unpleasant names, but when I was in college, I think they were called Colored People. Then it was African American and now it's also Black. 

At one time the original peoples of America were called Indians because Columbus thought he'd found a shortcut to the Indies as he was looking for gold and spices. I now use the term Native Americans but when I looked it up, I found this:

"The consensus, however, is that whenever possible, Native people prefer to be called by their specific tribal name. In the United States, Native American has been widely used but is falling out of favor with some groups, and the terms American Indian or indigenous American are preferred by many Native people."

People whose ancestry comes from Asia are now called Asians, not Orientals. After the switch was made to Asians, I still heard Asians themselves use the Oriental word. I wondered what this was about. I found this on the Merriam Webster Dictionary.

"The adjective oriental, which carries strong associations with colonialism and with language that others and exoticizes, is usually considered offensive when used by non-Asian people to describe people of various Asian identities. Its use to describe elements of Asian culture such as oriental music, an oriental garden sometimes has a dated feel, but is not usually regarded as offensive."

We do have one memory of having a retired colonel for dinner (in Chicago), who was a neighbor and friend drop the Jap word when talking about the WWII enemy. It happens. He was an older person and didn't look at us in that way, which was a good thing. He also assumed we were Muslims. Ah well...

In Hawaii, the term haole is used to refer to a person of European ancestry. My sister-in-law refers to herself as haole. My nephews are hapa haole (half caucasian). I found this information on the Big Island Now website.

"As with many different words, meanings change over time. Today, “haole” is basically a word used in Hawai’‘i to describe a white person."

On the other hand, I found this on Wikipedia: 

"Among Hawaiian residents who have descended from various ethnic groups who worked on the plantations (often known as "locals"), "haole" is a term used to describe people of European ancestry. The term itself can be merely descriptive, but some argue that it can be used in a way that is pejorative or discriminatory."

Names are important and it's good to keep up with the latest connotations. You've heard the  saying, "Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words can never hurt me." 

It's not true. It can.

The Lost Art of Letter Writing

While looking for the 1972 letter my cousin wrote me while serving in Vietnam (for my blog post), I found a bunch of aerogram letters that my grandmother had written me from Sendai, Japan.

She was careful to write in very simple Japanese because she knew my grasp of the language was pretty much at the 1st grade level. The letters she wrote me spanned from 1971 to 1997. My grandmother passed away in 1998.

Even though we lived far from each other (I lived in Chicago at the time) we had a loving relationship ever since I met and stayed with my mother's family for the first time on a college trip to Japan in 1970. 

I've never been able to throw these letters away. I even brought them with me when we moved to Hawaii. 

I showed them to mom and she spent the whole afternoon reading them all. 

She was amazed. I guess I'd never mentioned writing to Aachan (nickname for grandmother). Mom was happy to know that I'd been sending gifts to Aachan and how happy it made her. She also loved seeing that some of the letters were written before my grandfather passed away in 1972. 

I had also saved letters my brother had written me from Hawaii before the advent of email. There's a whole bunch of them. Each one is precious and I've kept them all.

How could I toss any of them when he spent so much time writing some of them in extremely fancy calligraphy? I don't know how he does it. He is a remarkable artist with steady fingers. 

The long extremely hilarious letters in calligraphy were written before he got married and had a family to take care of. But he still continued to write after that joking about the change in my accent and anything else he could think of just to keep me in the loop.

Nowadays, we text or email. Besides, since we moved to Hawaii, we don't need to write actual letters to each other.

I love texting. I love emailing. Technology is absolutely magical and amazing how it keeps us all connected no matter where in the world you live. 

I can even text my cousins in Japan now. I can also type in English, use Google Translate to change it to Japanese and send that by email to my aunt and uncle.  Like I said, technology is awesome! 

However, there's something so very precious about being able to hold these missives in your hand and imagining loved ones taking the time and effort to send a part of themselves to you.

It's a lost art that my grandchildren won't even know to miss.

A Day of Screw Ups!

This was a day I should have just stayed in bed and not done anything that could possibly go wrong.

My daughter and her family have been awfully generous with us sending us care packages (maybe with the hopes that we would stay safe at home).

So we decided to send them a flat rate box of goodies too. I asked Tif what she and her family would like to have. Well, Tif said she was really liking something called Salted Egg chips. Since I had never heard of anything like that I asked her to send a photo of the bag. She did warn me that it's quite expensive (about $7-$8 a bag).

Well... we were at the commissary doing our monthly shopping and (Oh my gosh!) there it was! That same Irvins bird. So I bought a couple of packages.

But then... as I was packing those two packages in the medium flat rate box which took up almost all the space, I saw that it would cost $15.50 to mail those two bags of chips. The postal attendant who I really like laughed and said, "One of the things you really shouldn't mail is chips. 😂 They take up a lot of room and are light." Arrrghhh....  The other thing that had me aggravated? I'd looked at the picture of that bird on the package, but I didn't see the words. Tif wanted the potato chips, NOT THE CASSAVA CHIPS. 😖 Double Arrrgghhh!!!

On that same day, I'd bought (what I thought were) Boneless Skinless Chicken Thighs that I was planning to marinate in teriyaki sauce for Art to grill. I thought they were awfully cheap, but I hadn't bought chicken in such a long time. 

However, I was surprised because when I opened the package, I saw there were only 4 thighs. What the heck! Then I looked more carefully at the chicken and the package. There was bone and skin. Sigh... Screwed up AGAIN! The photo here shows the chicken with bones and skin on the left and the skinless boneless left-over chicken I had from another bag on the right.

I should have gone back to bed and stayed there.

In the afternoon, the mail arrived and Art opened it to find a late payment charge for our credit card.

"Ummm... Didn't you pay this?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, I did." I told him. I even kept a record to show him what I'd paid for.

Art has always paid the bills throughout our marriage. I told him I needed to learn how to do it too. So, when we finally transferred my bank account from Chicago to Hawaii a few months ago he said I should take over our credit card bill payment with that account and taught me how to do it online.

Well...

I'd chosen the credit card company to make my payment perfectly correctly.

I clicked on Send Money and closed the website.

I forgot that there's also ANOTHER page that you have to click Submit Payments.

Therefore one of my kids also did not get their birthday check. 😖

Sigh...

"Don't worry," said Art. "You'll get the hang of it."

I think I'll just go back to bed next time I see my day is going downhill.

POSTSCRIPT: I wrote this post last week. But I just wanted to let you know we did have an earthquake in Hawaii yesterday morning and yes, I did feel it. My computer monitor started shaking and at first I thought I short circuited something or I was getting some kind of weird electrical charge that was making everything vibrate. It lasted less than a minute, but was quite unnerving. I asked everyone I knew and nobody else felt it on Oahu that I know of. Art didn’t feel it either since he was on the first floor reading the paper. I understand people on the Big Island got rattled a bit.

 

When Did You Move Away From Home?

 Myra's Question of the Day:

When did you move away from home?  
Describe where you lived and how you felt about it.

After graduating from high school, the decision was made for me to stay at Hale Kahawai dormitory on the University of Hawaii campus. A friend of mine was going to stay there and we decided to room together for our Freshman year. 

My mother had carefully saved money to make sure my younger brother and I could/would go to college. Education was of utmost importance to her and she was determined. She also decided to send me to the dorm because she wanted to separate me from my brother.

Seriously? I was surprised when she told me this decades later. She says she wanted my brother to become his own person because I was too bossy and didn't give him a chance to talk. Seriously? 

I'll have you know my brother is quite stubborn when he sets his mind to something. And he's really smart, a lot smarter than me.

Whatever the case, I moved to Hale Kahawai dormitory and had a blast. It was full of girls from around the islands and even the mainland. It was fun to learn about experiences from Caucasian girls as well as one beautiful African American. They really opened my eyes to a whole new world and I loved it.

And you know what else?

We got our meals at the East West Center and they had so many, many choices. 

And you know what else?

They had chocolate milk! I couldn't believe it. And I could have as much as I wanted. My parents NEVER bought chocolate milk.

I loved it all.

But then I got married after college and when Art said he'd gotten a good job offer in Chicago, I didn't think he'd actually accept even though I said I was willing to go wherever he thought would be best.

We drove from California to Chicago in October with my brother. When we entered Chicago from the south side and I saw a fellow waiting at the crosswalk with a violin case, my first thought was machine gun.

It was wrenching to say goodbye to my brother when he left for O'Hare Airport to return home to Hawaii.

Suddenly, everything was different. The language was different. All my friends were gone. I didn't know where anything was. It was frightening and I was afraid to leave the apartment where we stayed for a month with one of Art's college friends. 

But then we moved to our own split level apartment that we rented from a Mr. Schaefer, an older German landlord who lived on the first floor. He decided to take me under his wing and things became easier. I had a friend. 

And then winter hit. I was frozen. I couldn't believe how COLD it was and people were telling me it was a mild winter! What the heck! 

A year later we decided to move to the suburbs. Mr. Schaefer was very upset and even came to check out the house we were buying to make sure it was a good place. We went to visit him whenever we could and were devastated when his daughter told us he had passed away.

The move to the suburbs was very good because my life changed then. There were so many new friends to make and we all had children who became playmates. And the world became bigger, more interesting and full of kind and loving friends who supported each other. 

I guess it was all part of growing up.

How did you handle moving away from home? Did you have to go far? How did you adjust?

Toilet Paper

We heard on the news that Costco was running out of toilet paper because of some shipping problem. 

We do still have toilet paper left that we bought months ago, but the thought of running out of toilet paper sparked a desire to pick up a bundle on our next Sam's Club run. We don't use all that much since we have Toto washlets installed.

This reminded me of a letter my cousin, Arnold sent me during the Vietnam War decades ago. I had written to him about the 1972 shipping strike in Hawaii . Arnold is one to never let fear or danger stunt his sense of humor. He wrote me back:

"Hmmm... so Hawaii got hit by another dock strike, hunh? Gee, I wish I could help. Is there anything you would like from Vietnam? Well, I guess you'll be running out of toilet paper shortly, so shall I send you some of our dried banana leaves, or of course, the very best ,"jungle leaves" Ohhh... You just don't know it, but both make excellent wipes. (Take it from an expert.) Please don't hesitate to ask now. I will be more than glad to help."

All this made me wonder what did people do in the past when they didn't have grocery stores where they could pick up myriad brands of toilet paper.

I remember the time my aunt in Japan took us to Hiraizumi where there was a display of sticks. When I asked what they were for, she explained they were used for cleaning yourself after using the toilet.

Really? 

I was imagining splinters on my backside.

I looked online and saw an article on the History website. https://www.history.com/news/toilet-paper-hygiene-ancient-rome-china

Ahhh.... The Romans had a sponge attached to the end of the stick. Yup. I can see that must have been a lot more comfortable. Some cultures used seashells. (Ouch!)

The Chinese were apparently the first to use paper for toilet paper in the 6th century and by the 14 century was turning out tons of it. Amazing!

Well, all I can say is I'm glad we've got stores where we can pick up what we need for our posterior needs because Arnold is no longer in Vietnam and I don't have anything that looks remotely like worthy jungle leaves over here.

Knowing a Second Language

Myra's Question of the Day:

What special talents did your parents nurture in you?  How have you developed those talents?

Talent? Hmmm... Yes, mom did have me learn to sew. She did nurture a love of music in both myself and my brother (though I don't have that talent). She also nurtured kindness and respect. But a talent?

I do think it was great that she forced me to learn Japanese. I'd like to know how my brother got out of it. Actually, I had picked up some Japanese from other island relatives also which mom wasn't thrilled about since it wasn't exactly standard. Whatever the case, much of my Japanese is a mish mosh of things I've picked up.

However, I (along with my brother) did go to Japanese School for many years with my plantation camp friends. I also took two years of it in college. 

Knowing some Japanese did come in handy when I grew up. I was able to get a summer job at a Japanese travel agency with an all male staff while in college. Granted, I did goof up occasionally.

Someone came in and asked where everyone was. So I answered, "Meshi o kui ni itta." It meant they (the guys) went out to eat. That reply shocked the other person who left with his eyebrows still raised.

When I called mom later and asked what I'd said wrong, there was silence at first. Then she told me I used the masculine form of speaking which I'd picked up at the office, of course. Mom said only bar girls spoke that way. Ah well... So much for working for a travel agency.

When we moved to Illinois, a good friend of ours was buying a boat from a Japanese business man. The name of the boat was on the front hull and even the life preservers. It was Kintama. I didn't know exactly what it meant. I knew kin was gold and tama is bullet. So I told him it meant Golden Bullet. 

We thought it was a nice name for a boat. Well, after he bought the boat, I mentioned it to mom on the phone and again... there was silence. 

"No!" Mom said. That is NOT what it means. Turns out, it meant testicles. I guess you need balls to be a good businessman?

My brother (the one who can't speak Japanese) said, "HOW could you not know this?"

Well... gosh... No one taught me that one.

When I went to Japan in 1970 and stayed with my mother's family at the temple for three weeks, I understand they found my language quite uuuuummmm... interesting. I believe they often thought it was hilarious. I must tell you my grandfather and grandmother always kept a straight face though.

Now, when we travel to Japan, mom tells me, "Speak English."

What Toys Did You Play With?

Myra's Question of the Day:

What toys did you like to play with?  Why those particular toys?

When I first got this question from Myra, I didn't think I could write a blog post on it because I don't remember having toys. But then tai chi friends on that same chat line jogged my memory. I'd totally forgotten.

All I could remember was little bean bags that we made ourselves with material and koa (acacia) seeds. 

We learned how to juggle three at one time or two with one hand.

Yes, I could. Honest.

It was a competition to see how long you could keep juggling the bean bags without dropping one.

Art says that on the Big Island, they made their bean bags with canna lily seeds. Apparently they were round, black seeds that were bigger than our koa seeds. I remember canna lilies, but we never used the seeds. He says they would also put the seeds in their mouth and shoot them like blow guns out of cut bamboo stalks. 🙄

The girls also had paper dolls. We would design, trace and color our own outfits for the paper dolls. And there were yo-yos. I was never good at that. And there was jacks which kids would all play together. I know my brother made slingshots and probably a bunch of other things. 

(Thank you to all my tai chi friends for reminding me. They know who they are.) We all relate to each other's experiences since we all grew up without the benefits our children enjoyed many years later.

Friends, relatives and neighbors in Illinois and Hawaii showered our kids with gifts.

And yet, we and friends here in Hawaii remember those olden days of unknown poverty as being days of fun and discovery. We didn't feel a need for more toys and relied on creativity and friends to fill our days. And perhaps that's why we look back and think of them as golden olden days.

Do you remember what kind of toys you played with?

Flags of Sadness for Our Nation

My son and his family went to the Capitol Mall yesterday and sent us photos that are shocking and so very, very sad. Many of the flags have sad messages on them.

Each flag represents a loved one who died of COVID. I understand the number of deaths is probably more but just hasn't been reported to the CDC from some states because of underfunding, understaffing, etc. 

This was reported on the Washington Post on September 15 about a couple of weeks ago and the number has only gone up.

"The result: As the nation’s covid death toll exceeded 663,000 this week, it meant roughly 1 in every 500 Americans had succumbed to the disease caused by the coronavirus."

I also saw this on the BBC website:

This is a sad commentary on our nation when we have the vaccine more readily available to us. 

We grieved as a nation when 2,977 people died on September 11, 2001. 

Right now... 700,975 people have died of COVID and the number continues to climb.

My daughter, Tiffany told me recently that a friend of hers feels COVID is no different from the flu and refused to get the COVID vaccine. However, when her daughter's friend's parents said she could only invite those who were vaccinated to a sleepover she was having, Tiffany's friend then felt compelled to have her child vaccinated so she could attend the party. (And Tiffany's friend got vaccinated at the same time although her husband still refuses it.)

I understand many people know others who had COVID and survived so they figure they'll be all right too. I don't know what it will take to get people to be vaccinated in order to help the entire country instead of thinking only about themselves.

I don't know and I suppose seeing those sad flags won't move them either.

What Should You Do With Cooking Oil?

I was planning to deliver all the cooking oil I had saved up since last year to the Refuse Collection site. I KNOW you're not supposed to pour cooking oil down into the sink drain because it will cause all kinds of problems for you. 

I've had plumbers also tell me in Illinois and Hawaii not to put carrot shavings or coffee grains into your drain either. I've never poured coffee grains in the sink drain, but I did put carrot peelings into the garbage disposal which is why we had to call in the plumber in Illinois. In fact, I almost never use the garbage disposal anymore. 

Anyway.... I had all this cooking oil and was going to deliver it to the disposal site so I checked on http://www.honolulu.gov/opala to make an appointment. I learned that they don't collect cooking oil, only motor oil. We're supposed to soak rags and newspaper in the oil, stick it in a bag and toss it in the garbage bin.

Hmmm... But I had a lot of oil. Art had this idea to put kitty litter in the containers. Ummm... It took quite a bit of kitty litter (and another kim chee jar), but it did solidify eventually. I decided to then write to the Refuse division to be sure and got this reply.

"Aloha,
If you have a small volume, need to completely absorb the oil with rags & contain it, with several trash bags. If you have  large volume , buy a couple car oil box.
Refuse Division"

 Hmmmm.... it's a good thing we rarely deep fry anymore. That car oil box is not very cheap.

It Started With Cows

It all started in Chicago in 1999. There were fiberglass cows decorated by local artists displayed around the city. 

I didn't have a digital camera back then so (alas!) I had to get this through courtesy of The Magnificent Mile Association.

We walked around the city looking for all these awesome painted cows and it was tons of fun.

At the end of the summer I understand the cows were sold and the  proceeds went to various charities.

It was such a huge success that in 2001, they followed it with Home Suite Chicago. It was still fun, but maybe not as cute.

I wonder why they didn't do pigs. Didn't poet, Carl Sandburg call Chicago the Hog Butcher to the World?

In 2004, we visited our son in Washington, D.C. and saw Pandamania.

This was wonderful and yes, I did have a digital camera then so I took a lot of photos.

I'm sure they were celebrating the two pandas they got in 2000 at Smithsonian's National Zoo.

We thought the pandas would be the last time we'd see these fun art objects, but we ran across these Eagles in the City in Vancouver.

I understand other cities and countries have also displayed these fiberglass works of art around the city. Have you seen any? What were they of? 

Beloved Shoes

I really love these walking shoes. They just feel good on my feet. True, I've had them a long time. I did have two pairs of them at one time. I know I bought them at an outlet because I NEVER pay much for my shoes. I don't remember throwing one away. Anyway, I guess I only have one pair now.

When we were walking around Washington, D.C. in 2017, the sole came loose on one of them. Art had to hunt down Shoe Goo at a drug store since I didn't have a back-up pair.

I actually wrote a blog post about it. This is a picture from that long ago post.

Well... About a month or so ago, the sole came loose again so Art glued it together once more.

And it was fine.

But sigh...

It was feeling a little floppy again and I found the sole on the other side was also coming loose so I turned it over to show Art.

What a shock! It wasn't just the little soles that were falling off, it was the whole top part of the shoe. 😕

"Isn't it time to toss it?" Art asked while rolling his eyes as he looked at me looking sadly at my beloved shoes.

"Isn't it about 10 years old?" He looked at me again. "Fine," he said. "I'll fix it, but go look for another pair."

OK, I looked. Holey smokes! I never spend that much on shoes. My shoes just says IGS on it, but apparently they are Asics now. 

And yes, I do have other shoes, but I really like this pair (once it's fixed, that is.)

POSTSCRIPT:

Yay! It's fixed! They do show their (probably almost 10 year) age, don't they? But you know what? It felt good to wear them again. 😁

Yes, yes, I know Art's podiatrist said you should change your shoes every 300-500 miles, but my feet loves these shoes.

And Art? He's shaking his head right now and rolling his eyes, I suppose. But I'm smiling.

Gunshots?

I got up a little late the other morning because I hadn't been getting enough sleep for the last few days. I guess I might not get as much sleep as Art who drops off to sleep the minute his head hits the pillow, but I do get more deep sleep.

As he prepared our breakfast oatmeal, he asked, "Did you hear the fireworks this morning about 5:30?" 

"Is it those miscreants down the street again?" I asked.

"No," he answered. "It was in the other direction this time."

We have these idiots who shoot off aerials or really loud concussion bombs very late at night every so often. It's irritating as heck! I guess I didn't hear a thing since I was out cold even though we sleep with our windows open.

Anyway, I digress...

Art left our oatmeal to cool and we started our morning walk. We try to get out there before the sun is up.

What a surprise to see a whole bunch of police cars lining the road and yellow crime scene tape in the driveway.

Neighbors were out of the house coming to tell us the news.

Apparently they ALL knew... the whole street knew that there was a greenhouse in the back of that neighbor where marijuana was being grown. They all mentioned how they could smell pot whenever they were outside.

Really? (Maybe it was for medicinal purposes?)

And then this morning... almost all of them knew they were gunshots and not firecrackers. Hey... Art was in the Air Force for 6 years and he thought they were firecrackers. 

I have an excuse for not smelling the pot. I haven't been able to smell anything for the past decade as most of you know.

Oops! Digressing again.

Anyway, one of the officers asked me what I knew. Uuummm.... "I know nothing. I know nothing." I didn't even hear the gunfire.

Turns out somebody had come by in a vehicle and shot at the house and the truck or whatever. Neighbors have outdoor cameras so they were going to look at the videos. (Those were big gunshot holes in their truck!)

Good grief! Granted, we lived for 35 years near Chicago, but we're in sleepy Hawaii now. I didn't expect to hear gunfire in our neighborhood.

Sheesh!