Sitting on the deck. Angelo, Mendozza and Angelina are in the pool. Or rather, in the boat in the pool.
Insects buzz, a thought of a breeze tickles the leaves, the kids are noisy.
I pulled the kids out of the house. It is a mess. We had a birthday party for Dylan,Terry’s son, just turned 2, yesterday. We saw no less than 20 kids between 1 and 11 with half being under 3. It was a hoot. All those kids to pester and play with…
In the islands every baby has a “house-girl” of their own so we fed, I think something like 40 people. And it was a good party and a great feed. Terry, Tony, Annie, (who also has birthday this month and considered it her party too) and a few others decided to have a solbrew drinking contest then see who could drink the most wine the fastest then decided a bottle of sapphire gin was a good idea… It was well after midnight when Terry wobbled in and politely asked if they could open a bottle of chivas I had been given earlier (I have an August birthday too). I deemed it unwise to open such a nice bottle at such a late hour. That was the end of the party and everyone headed home…
It was shortly after that Terry started chundering… it went on for a while. At one point, before I went to bed at 2, I was doing a final clean up… The dogs were on the wrestling mats so couldn’t pick them up. All food and breakables were in the kitchen. Lid was open on the big, empty, cooler full of ice still, but barren of liquid friendship.
As I was hanging to hammock up high to keep the dogs out of it Terry stumbled out of the house… said “still gotta spew…” and found his way into the darkness. I think he slept outside.
The kids were all in a huddle on the carpet when I shut the house down. They remind me of puppies when they do this. Cuddle into a pile of limbs.
I was roused by happy kids-noise early in the morning. I am though a good sleeper, and rolled and dozed until about 9. I then went out and stretched out on the couch as the kids made messes and watched Michael Jackson dance.
These kids are dancers. Annie’s is married iKiribati and she was a decent “tamure” dancer. Her husband, Tony, was always the DJ for the dance group. I think that’s how they got together. Dancing.
But these kids all know how to dance. Between the islands styles, the free styles, the hip-hop… they know how to dance. And they watch a lot of dance flicks. Which is good.. sorta… I have seen sweet little Angelina singing along to a song saying something like “… baby I want your body soooooo baaaaaaddddd….
Dylan just joined us. 2 yrs is still very much a baby so I remove my name from the responsible adult list. I am good with kids that bounce and bruise without moms popping a cork. We live kinda rough…
Speaking of which… I put a flying-fox up over the pool for this party. It is kinda funky but it works for kids up to about 8 – 10. I used a bit of old yacht-braid and simply cannot pull it tight enough, not to give. So we launch up the steps, about 10 feet or so above the pool. The kids get a few second ride holding on as long as they can then drop in the water. Drop too early you bounce on the deck. Too late and you collide with the side of the pool.
Like I said… we live kinda rough.
Mendozza is teaching Dylan to jump down the steps. As dancers they can’t just walk… they shimmy and shake, slide and jump. It’s kinda cool. So each step is a dance step. Each group of steps is an opportunity for air-time.
With all the boats we’re involved with we have a lot of neat ropes and pulleys. Like the flying-fox, we have rigging enough for lots of fun. The tarzan rope here started as a banana hanging rope and has evolved into a permanent fixture of fun. It allows them to get the nice side-kick thing happening with centrifugal force.
So Dylan is following suit and trying to jump down 2 steps at a time. Mendozza has just put a bucket on top of the tool box to give him more hight, more air-time. He is jumping a vertical drop of 6 feet/ 2 meters. Launching several feet out, into the air…
Anglo has just traded the tarzan rope for the bike… He plays the daredevil by riding just a few inches from my toes each time he rides by me. he gives me a cheeky grin each time he passes. Of course I refuse to move my toes…
My pot of coffee is about done. Angelina is now braiding my hair. The heat of the midday sun is being felt, even under this leaf-roof and all the shading. Almost 1pm…
Sunday morning coming down.





















The two young boys who were amongst the 10 people found off Guadalcanal.

… as the night comes. A church bell, in the valley, calls the faithful to service. Cook fires flavor the eve. Geckos bark and mosquitoes annoy me.
Just a while ago… I was having a proud look at the new “bio-cycle” waste treatment system we installed… standing up on the deck and watching/ listening as the pumps switched gears and pathogen-free water was sprayed over a large area. I was paying attention to the system doing its job when I heard a small “peep”. I looked to my left and saw…
… one of Gracie’s little friends showing off.
I just sprayed on insect-killer stuff all over my body (I know, how stupid?) so the dern things hover about a foot from me and buzzz angrily. I think the killer-stuff works as bugs are dying on me… must be powerful…
Flying off tomorrow for a few weeks in Australia. I normally call it Aus. And those who inhabit the land, Aussies. But for the sake of colorful writing I will from here on refer to the land-down-under as Oz. And the inhabitants of that blessed land, Ozzies.
I really, really like Oz. For numerous reasons. Some right, some wrong. It is a good land. Ozzies are great fun. All ways enjoy my time in Oz.
Have to get the bikes and car all charged up and back on the road. Leaving things to sit is never good for them.
Sooo much going on. And it is all good. Frustrations are a constant occurance, and, as near as I can tell, would not be frustrating unless you were trying to “get somewhere”. I guess if you are willing to simply sit, plugged-in or not, and attempt little, then you may have few frustrations.
The Buddhist Monk’s conundrum: remove your self from society to seek enlightenment, become enlightened but know nothing of society… even the language by which others communicate.
Enlightenment of one… is it enlightenment?
Or is enlightenment like so many other “things”… it can only truly occur in numbers? Singular ocurances are aberrations. True success, true enlightenment happens when society as a whole is effected.
???
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