Where we live, part one
Our street is about three blocks long, maybe four. I can see from one end of it to the other.
If you held one end of a jumprope and your girlfriend held the other and let it dip just so, that is the shape of our street; it has a bit of a dip in the middle. A few houses down, near the bottom of the dip, some feral chickens reside. Two sets of mother hens with chicks right now. Also a few roosters. Just close enough to give me a warm feeling when I hear them and far enough away that I don't dream of a meal of chicken and rice. Our road is narrow. There's enough room for about 1 1/2 cars. Folks like to cut through on our street, but they have to negotiate that passage with the other cars that pass through and that keeps the overall traffic way down. When it is clear, we can see the slopes of Mauna Kea, but the summit is always obscured by the coconut palms across the street. I wanted a home with a view and I love it; it's just not the view I imagined. When the sun shines, everything appears in bright, crisp focus. when it rains, everything seems a bit fuzzy. Larry just brought me my breakfast: a huge plate of fruit. That sounds decadent, doesn't it? A delivery of breakfast. Larry is in charge of fruit in our household and that is just fine with me. He leads us through the stalls at the farmers market and I trudge along behind him carrying our purchases to keep his hands free. This morning it is papaya, banana, and pineapple. Papaya and bananas are by far the cheapest fruits. Pineapple is next, as long as you are not seeking Maui white pineapples, then mangoes at the top of the fruit chain. Lately, the mangoes have been too pricey and either unripe or overripe. Mango season ended last month. There are lots of other interesting fruits, but I will leave that for another day.