learning

every mistake is a lesson

every friend is a blessing

 learn from them both

be thankful for every single one

happy new year

a cast of thousands

I call it "a cast of thousands" because, in the end, that's what it's going to cost (adios Hawaii :o[ ). The Scottish in me does not think this is amusing at all. Methinks if Lady MacBeth had had a cast it surely would have been as red as this one, especially after using it to club you-know-who over the head. She'd use it as a red flail to out out that damn spot.

But the goofy in me knows that goofy is what will save me, so I'm considering auditioning for the role of Sissy Hankshaw, the swollen-thumbed hitchhiking heroine of Tom Robbins' seminal 1976 novel, "Even Cowgirls Get The Blues".

"Excess of sorrow laughs. Excess of joy weeps." 

-William Blake

be merry!

it wasn't all bad

So what if I broke my arm yesterday?  I also had a permanent wireless backup connected to my computer.  Even better than that, I bought two terrific paintings from Tracy Helgeson in her half-price sale! Woo-hoo!

down-payment on uppity

Some of you may have noticed that I was getting a little uppity about conquering the computer and this blog.  Well, shut my mouth!  Yesterday at about 5:30 when it was as dark as a pocket, I was walking the dog, and a car came around the corner.  To avoid becoming roadkill, we moved over to the side of the street.  Unfortunately (understatement), it was the icy side of the street.

  

Before you get to fill in the blanks, let me.  I did exactly what you're not supposed to do when you flip up into the air and gravity takes over.  I "broke" my fall with my right arm. That's right, my right (fore) arm.  Oh Sam, so wrong wrong wrong!

Skiers know about broken bones; we know about how it happens, when it happens, and why it happens.  We know the awful telltale signs of shock.  You'd think all that knowledge would help, but all it really does is deliver the bad news to you before anyone else.  At least you know when to sit and stay like a good dog.

Long story shorter...the interminable wait in the ER, the xrays (already had enough to glow in the dark), a splint, an appointment next week with my trusty osteopod (he designed and built me a new knee 7 years ago), and a no-doubt overdue downgrading of my hubris to humility.  Therefore, my blogging days must change.  I will be spending a lot more time reading your blogs, so take advantage of this captive audience.  I am here to learn; please impart wisdom.  In the meantime, I will be gazing longingly at my new full set of Unison pastels.  Sigh.

 

The dog is outside chewing on a bone.  How ironically thoughtless of him.    

silent monks

What do you do if you've taken a vow of silence but still want to sing Handel's Messiah?

"my" cat

Depending on who you ask, the resident cat who rules the house on Sunset Beach is known as Fortitude, Moochie, Herekittykittykitty, or sometimes Gitouttahere!. We just call him 'Tude. I published a previous post about him last February which best describes his feral little self. 

Of course, being in Hawaii is wonderful, but unfortunately it means being without the dogs I love, a hardship at best. However, if there's an animal more than able to stand in for all of them put together, it's the 'Tude. Therefore, when I'm there, he is "my" cat. As long as I fork over whatever's on my fork, he's willing to be the littlest Big Dog I know. A real go-along-ta-git-along kind of guy. But I know nothing else about him. I don't know where he comes from, how old he is, who else he dates... Nothing except that he has a strong, if somewhat demanding, personality.  

Yesterday, I heard that the people who were there just a few months ago, the people who know and love him as "Moochie" miss him and want to know where he is. My heart sank. Oh my, so do I. Even though he has more than enough good sense to survive, I know being feral is a very hard life, and in spite of his gumption, even a cat with so much fortitude has his limits. 

Well, I've decided that his Moochie mom simply failed to come up with da kine of salmon pate that he likes. I'm going to take a deep breath and expect he'll greet us in January, yowling, "Where the hell have you been?!"

Why do I feel like my dog just died?

  

and the winner is...

The Quiksilver Big Wave Invitational held yesterday was won by Greg Long. According to all accounts, it was one of the most awesome surfing events of all time. After 25 years, everything came together perfectly to make it a truly legendary tribute to Eddie Aikau. Read the official news report here. If you're lucky enough to have access to FUEL TV, don't miss this special sporting event on Friday, Dec. 11th at 6:30 PT- 9:30 ET.  

hawaiian exercise

Well, someone's got to take care of the cat...

quiksilver update

As I had feared, the Quiksilver site is jammed. You can still try today, but you'll have a better chance in the next day or two (after it's over, of course). Believe me, it'll still be worth it. In the meantime, the press package will give you a lot of info about the event's line-up, history, etc. 

Mahalo.  

the quiksilver

The North Shore of Oahu is getting hammered by 30' to 50' waves today through Thursday or Friday, which means The Quiksilver In Memory Of Eddie Aikau is on! It doesn't happen every year, actually rarely, and only when the monster waves are thundering in. Today's sets seem very promising (can you say HUGE?), and the judge will likely call it a "go". Thirty of the world's best big wave riders are ready and waiting at Waimea. Unfortunately, we won't be at Sunset until 1/15/10. Just as well... the house is full of judges for the Triple Crown, and the waves will be threatening the porch. Yikes! But as the surf rats say, "Eddie would go!"

cold moon

When I left the studio last night, the full moon was rising. The frigid ten degrees and still air hung my breath in a solid cloud before me. It has to be the Cold Moon, I thought. I grabbed my camera and began shooting. The exposures seemed longer than life itself, and I fought to catch the moments between breaths, shivers, and heartbeats. It became a true out-of-body experience. I passed those little eternities wondering why I was there without a coat, yet warm nonetheless. I knew there had to be a reason beyond the moon's obvious beauty. 

Happy birthday, Loriann!