White Pineapples.
Have you heard of a white pineapple? Me neither.
Actually they aren’t white. The outside looks the same as the yellow ones, however, the inside flesh is lighter. They are sweeter and less acid that the yellow ones, and delicious. Dole made the decision to go with the yellow ones, and vioila’ that’s what we have available on the mainland.
Barry, the sweet man who lived in our Tiki room and who kept the property looking lived-in until we arrived, painted this card for the previous owner.
Once upon a time there were about three acres of pineapple plants on the property–still were when we arrived, that is if you could find them buried under the ferns. They were harvesting them in July, the day of our look-see, and we were wooed by one on the lanai, however, that was the last Hurrah.
By December when we moved there, we got a note from the previous owner–it’s it the book The Frog’s Song--that we ought top bulldoze the fields and start over.
A Sorbet maker in Pahoa deeply missed the white pineapples. So did we.
Sticky Stamps.
As I entered a bookstore in downtown Pahoa I found the proprietor spraying the books with Windex.
“It helps keep the mildew off,” she said.
Pahoa is located on the wet side of the Big Island, where grass reseeds every three weeks, and where we wore hiking sandals all the time. That way, when it rained, we just waded through the water, and if the grass was wet, no matter. As you might suspect, most everything not rusted soon would be.
It’s a sweet little town. The chiropractor was also located on the main street. As my grandson was only one-year-old when we lived there, he and I, while waiting for his momma to be treated, would stand on the deck that over-looked the street and count vehicles by color as they passed beneath us.
Back at the house, I was in the habit of tucking bills inside the flaps of their envelopes. I learned quickly not to do that, for then you had the bill pasted to the envelope. Oh, yes, and lickable stamps, be careful where you store them. The lady in the book store said you could buy stamps with a special glue that didn’t leave you with a glob of stamps plastered to something not mail-able.
Now, come to think of it, who licks stamps? Or, for that matter, who uses them?
Bananas.
Baby bananas with flowers on their buns. They grow like chicks in a big purple pod. Purple pods? I didn’t know that.
In The Tiki-Tiki-Tiki-Tiki Room
Because this little building had been built without a permit, it could not be included in the Real Estate Listing. We discovered it the day of our look-see, before we moved there.
It tickled us to no end.
The Disney Tiki Room song (You know, where the flowers croon) was Baby Darling’s favorite, and the building was our favorite.
Can you believe we kept that area mowed? Not with a ride-on mower either. This was the green the Great Goddess enlivened each morning as I looked up from my computer.