This is a percipitation/temperature gradient of what's hitting the Hawaiian Islands. It's coming straight down from Alaska. Pretty rare...
It’s Friday! Since we haven’t been living our lives around a schedule, remembering what day it is has its challenges. Not complaining…just sayin’. It'll change soon enough.
Becky from the Pirate Coast magazine wrote and, after four years, is still after me to do an article about my dad. I don’t know what it is. I love to write. I’m not a good writer but I don’t care anymore. Such as it is with music – I don’t care if I don’t sound like Joss Stone. At my age, I’ve figured that it’s "doing it"and not always acquiring that “goal of perfection” you’ve set for yourself. One could find oneself "void" of any talent if you freeze up because you think “It sounds horrible” or “I can’t believe I just wrote that”. Yet, when it comes to dad…words just don’t come for me. Not even bad ones. Not yet, anyway.
I just read an article on Tony Hubble’s site about a soldier who escorts another soldier home ~ in a flag draped casket. The story wasn’t necessarily about our fallen brother, himself…but rather how he affected the people around him.
As the escorting officer accompanied the fallen soldier to the gravesite he wrote (regarding the moving casket):
“…I felt that, as long as he was still moving, he was somehow still alive.”
I guess I believe dad’s still moving…
Last night, we watched Horton Hears a Who! It was good to hear Ron chuckle and, I have to say, was a funny DVD. We needed it. I’m the one in charge of ordering Netflix movies. There are times when Ron rolls his eyes but our mutual agreement is that we watch what the other likes. I can only watch “blow em, crash em or shoot em” up movies for so long and he can only watch comedy, romance or science fiction movies for so long. Both of us liked Horton.
I hope you have a delightful weekend. I’ve included an opinion piece from the Kauai Garden Isle News regarding Urban Cheeekins. I thought it was a cute perspective on the issue:
The Garden Island - Cock-a-doodle-doo
I believe it was Hamlet who speaketh “To eradicate the chicken or not to eradicate the chicken, that is the question.”(Perhaps he did not.) Anyway, isn’t it a valid question, worthy of debate?
There are piecemeal solutions: with a humane rooster trap, an area can eventually be cleared of chickens (if emptying your trap of doves and java sparrows doesn’t wear you down).But once a void in a biosphere occurs, roosters and their harems would consider such an area as prime real estate and migrate to it. There are businesses that have come into being to rid us of noisy, disease carrying, environmentally degrading, noisy, noisy roosters.
But unless the county organizes an island-wide eradication program, the rooster will rule.Now I realize there are some rooster positives as well: fertilized, free-range, organic eggs without growth hormones and other potentially harmful chemicals; a source of organic meat without much fat (a bit thinner than the Costco chicken-on-a-spit); a natural and, for some, a pleasant wake-up call; and for those who are inclined, an outlet to satisfy one’s bloodlust and betting on the outcome of the illicit cockfight.
Most people would not much mind if the roosters disappeared; as a matter of fact, block parties would erupt in celebration. Stamp out the tyrannical rooster! Perhaps then we can enjoy a good night’s sleep.
But the other day, coming home from Big Save, I stopped in time — as did the large-tired truck coming toward me — to allow a clucking hen and a dozen chicks to pass.