Manoa is for fools.

Good lord. Start. Stop. Start. Stop. It feels foolish to even begin sometimes because I promise to begin all the time. In fact, I have had "this" conversation with my blogging audience way to often. How do I let myself off the hook and just share what I see? How do I shed the fear of what some might think, or what others might not? Blogging, yes this is blogging, but it's also called writing. Writing is an art form - sometimes - and in that sense it's hard not to feel all the potential to disappoint. There is a constant tug of war between writer and her self conscious saying "Oh my god, we must tell them about this!" and then in response "why? who cares? It's been said."

I feel that way a little about Hawaiian food.  Whatever that is. No, really, if you want Hawaiian food you may not want to come to Hawaii because it's pretty hidden under a lot of other layers of cultural mix-ups.  But it's not all bad, no. I know I used to think that, a far off six months ago when the world in Hawaii was bleak, and the food bleaker. It was wrong of me. Wait, nix that, no it wasn't. It was real of me. I was living in Waikiki long enough to totally corrupt my thinking on the subject. And, even now, gulp, eight months, gulp, into living here (eight months is way too close to a year), I live in the mostly suburbs of Hawaii. A dismal place with very little real life.  Again, that's not fair of me, people love it here. It's quiet really, except for the drunks two houses over, and the old lady next door who uses the bathroom quite loudly. Otherwise, it's perfect mainstream America. Green grass, matching mailboxes, sidewalks, you know, the Midwest.  But, it's safe (so a lot fo military families move here), and it's supposed to have good schools (so a lot of young families move here), and it's less expensive (because you can't see the ocean), and it has recreation centers every mile or so (because you also can't recreate in the ocean easily if you live here, or pretend to be in middle America without this).  This is all a very bad sell for an upcoming house swap. It's actually a really bad way to advocate for "my house for yours for a week", so I better add this:  Our house (you know, the physical thing) is one of the best I've ever lived in.  It's totally Hawaiian, with jealousy windows and redwood paneling. Built in the 60's over a pineapple field, it was one  score of a big lot, which means my kids and their few friends have tons of room to roam and play. It is only 20 minutes to the beach, which on island seems endless, but truly - it's not that far. And the Rec centers? We use them. Liberally. All the time liberally. We swim, we take ballet, we do dance class...it's a bit endless.  So there it is, the truth of my not so favorite, yet totally perfect, Hawaiian village in the mountains.

Okay, wait, back to the moment.  I also want to say that there are a lot of perfect mothers out there who seem to balance it all, I however do not, and come 9 pm when the kids finally shut the H--- up and pass out, I am just kind of pooped. I want to watch netflix into the wee hours, or drink a glass of wine, or just stare at the wall. And sadly, not even that is happening much, because we have sandy laundry to wash, and studying to be done for my online courses, and oh yes, I've taken on production work for a local eccentric radio host, and it's also consuming.  These are all the side tasks. The funny life stuff in the way of other life stuff.  I'm geting a real grown-up job as we speak, at a publishing company. If all goes well I'll be doing for others what I don't tend to spend time doing for myself (kind of a theme repeating itself don't you think?), I'll be proofreading books. Actually, this may be the most exciting Hawaiian adventure yet.

But here, how to write about here? What do you want to know?  I miss my homeland, terribly. I miss my friends even more.  I'm less depressed about this place now than I was two months ago, and way less than four months ago.  I see hope. 

I hiked manoa valley the other day and realized I might want to live there. Like I really might love living there for a long time. Alas, it's hours of commute traffic from my kids private school, my husbands work, and therefore our priorities. It's also ridiculously expensive. Marin County expensive. It's a bit like going to Ross or San Anselmo and saying, "Gee, if I lived here I might like living in California", and then you step back and realize that you have a Novato, or a Rohnert Park, or a Petaluma East side Salary, and a 1997 4runner, and private school to pay for and well, you kind of tuck that silly idea away and drive back to Rohnert Park. Manoa is for fools. Rich fools. Rich fools who get the nice hiking trails, good schools and really expensive housing. Fooey.

So, here. Here I am keeping this blog alive by a thread. 

But, I'm here, and writing. Writing like it's art. It will come.

*Here are our Lab-Lab Beans. How cool is that? Okay, truth alert. This is a picture of some epic Lab-Lab Bean vine at the Urban Garden Center. This Lab-Lab vine must have come from Manoa or something because it's far superior to mine. Mine's a bit of a spindley wreck, but i'm working on it.

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[Corrina]

I miss you!

[Suzanne]

I'm smiling. Welcome back!