About to Catch Hell...

Do I dare even spread my thoughts across the computer screen tonight?
This is a post that surely my mother will call me about, or at least she'll send me a text message. She will reference a conversation we had months ago wherein I was supposed to promise that I wouldn't gloat or taunt (or sneeze or burp or fart) about the weather in Hawaii...


But, alas, here I go. Deep down, I know you mainlanders like hearing about this :)


So despite your mildness of winter, or the unanticipate-able (you're damn right I just made up a word) fluctuation of single-digit temperatures one day and 38 degrees drizzle the next, I know that there is a sure chance that while my mother or father or perhaps my dear friend Ashley sit down to read this blog, sleet might be pelting the windows or snow might be knitting a thick, white quilt across the hillside. Remember, if this is true, it's only because of the following story I'm sharing...


Saturdays have turned into our chore day. We work to blitz the house and do any errands Saturday morning so that we can thoroughly enjoy the remainder of our weekend, right up to Sunday evening.


Saturday, specifically, Nick drove my firebird down to Honolulu, rented a carport lift, and changed my breaks (he's so handy!). I followed him to town but I drove his truck so that I could grocery shop and head back to Kapolei (in case the break job took the majority of the day).


I arrived before the crowds and was unloading groceries within the hour. Further motivated by the fact that it was before 11 a.m. and the groceries for the week were packed in the refrigerator and pantry, I tackled the blitzing by myself. And herein, I was smacked in the face by an epiphany:


Sure, I miss the romanticism of a cozy fire, our quaint little town, of snowy Sunday mornings and the excitement of a winter storm when I'm tucked in with my family on the couch watching the weather channel. I miss the white-knuckle driving on Route 13 and the winter fashion trends of a scarf or a hat and a sexy pair of boots and jeans.
I miss our blood family and our non-blood family. 


But there is something invigorating about cleaning on a Saturday with my windows wide open, the sunshine streaming through the lanai, the trade winds breezing through the living room, dinning room and out again through the open front door. I am repeatedly inspired by the smell of fresh cut grass, by the taste of salt on my lips when I run by the lagoons, and by our effervescent neighbors, who surely must be so, at least in part, by the aforementioned list.There's just something special about a weekend in January filled with sunshine, bathing suits, beaches and ocean, and it's not a vacation. I'm on a tightrope, addled by whether I can truly comprehend that this is our home, not just a vacation spot. 


Of course, while you mainlanders roll your eyes in disgust, there is an irrefutable consequence for living where we live. The Hawaii weather beckons me with is long, pointed finger. Weekends are filled with adventures; some new, some familiar: hikes, sharks, beaches, lagoons, north shore, east side, etc. Nick and I want to be out. We want to explore every corner in the pockets of this island. So, naturally, we set aside homework and reading for the later evenings, when we're sun-fatigued. I found, in New York, the ennui of a cozy, snowy weekend artlessly evolves into lesson plan and grading productivity. Snuggled under the blankets on the couch, drinking tea, I only had so many options. I am finally able to empathize with the laid-back, Hawaiian work ethic. Of course there's no work ethic here! Who the hell wants to work when you can be outside? There's a reason school is out during the summer months! Ah, good thing I never had to go to school year. There is certainly a high probability that I wouldn't have earned any degree at all...


Word of cation from a now empathetic mainlander: do your schooling before you move to Hawaii. There is NO WAY anyone would be able to write thesis papers down here...


<3 love you all!