Forget pottery or leather, the ninth year is mangos

I thought I'd show you this:

Our landlord gave Brant and I this mango in celebration of our anniversary. She said it came from a beloved mango tree on their farm.

Let's put that one on the list of reasons I love living here; people give mangos for presents!

To satisfy my dear friend Rob, who suggested I blog a little more about Hawaii and a little less about my pathetic life, I'd like to direct your attention to the fact that mangos are not native to Hawaii. And apparently Hawaii mangos are not allowed to be sold on the U.S mainland, due to quarantine rules regarding fruit flies and mango seed weevils.

How sad for you.

Now back to my pathetic life.

I woke up early one day last week and drove to my favorite beach.

It was windy (it is always windy) but the beachcombing was great.

And then LOOK what I found:

No, it is not a piece of poo.

 

I don't know what it is, to tell you the truth. Some sea creature chilling on the beach. Perhaps he lost his shell? Perhaps he doesn't need one? I probed and observed and took pictures of him until a huge wave took him away. 

And then I ate breakfast sitting under a tree further up the beach, and looked at all the seashells I had collected that morning. . I tried real hard to not let the wind blow sand into my yogurt and bananas.

My life will not always be this leisurely. In fact, in less than a month, it will have quite a bit more structure. But for now it's like this.

We Still Like Each Other

Monday was our 9th wedding anniversary. To celebrate I made Brant go outside with me and take a few obligatory photos.

He likes to flare his nostrils when I 'make' him take pictures.

And then we went to a surprise dinner he had planned.  Months ago we picked up a magazine for restaurants on Maui and the cover shot was this amazingly refreshing looking drink from a restaurant called I'o. Sliced strawberries, limes, basil, and mint leaves stacked in a tall, clear glass with a clear bubbly liquid (turned out to be soda water & some fancy vodka). I mentioned that someday I really wanted to try that restaurant because that drink looked out of this world and I hoped the menu would match. So that's where he made our anniversary reservations. Because he is awesome and thoughtful like that.

Notice the dumpster in the background. No churchin it up over here.

Dinner was amazing. We ordered multiple small plates and munched and talked the night away. It was such a relaxing, satisfying meal. And of course I ordered the drink we had seen on the magazine cover. Brant said it tasted "like a garden" because of all the fresh basil and mint leaves layered amongst the strawberries and limes. I thought it was delicious - especially because it tasted like a garden.

Anyway, get ready for some mushy stuff:

I love this guy. 

I mean, I REALLY love him.

 I can honestly say that the last nine years have been the best years of my life. He is my best friend. And I am so completely grateful for every day I get to spend being married to him.

The beard is back.

Here's to many, many more years together. 

Here are some things

 A couple scenarios from the past few days:

First,
I'm sitting in Starbucks, and the middle-aged guy at the table in front of me is talking to a woman. I can't see her from the angle I'm sitting, but I can see her pink, designer-ish purse sitting on the side of the table. The guy is talking loud and asking her things like 'when did your mom come to this country?' And when she says 2007, he tells her she should really be able to speak better English than she does, but how he can still understand her even though he was born and raised here, blah, blah, blah. My first thought was.....really? Why would you comment on her English speaking skills like that? RUDE. And then I wondered if their meeting was a job interview or something - something where language skills might be relevant. Or maybe he is a family friend, or a new friend of hers, or maybe he is just a jerk? Or maybe I didn't catch all of the conversation and he is not a jerk at all - it just sounds that way from the snippet I caught?

But then, an hour later they go to leave and I finally see the woman, who is, in fact, not a woman at all. She is a child. Or at least appears to be a child. Seriously, she might have been 12. Maybe. She catches my eye as she puts her pink purse over her shoulder and we smile at eachother. Something about her smile seems a little wierd. But then they turn to walk out and the dude puts his arm around her, on her middle back and kind of runs his fingers up and down her back as the walk to the door. NOT in a way that a friend or potential employer would touch. And now I am wondering.....did I just see what I think I saw? I mean, it could be a million different totally acceptable scenarios. But it could also be a very, very wrong scenario. Now I see her weird smile in my mind and wonder if she was trying to communicate more than just an awkward smile toward a stranger.

Second,

I've already commiserated about this with a few family members, but can't resist sharing here. Last week Brant and I were driving in Kihei and I was looking out the window when I saw this old guy sitting on the curb combing his hair. He was wearing shorts and it kind of looked like he was sitting on a pillow. But the pillow looked like it was inside his shorts. Then I realize that it is NOT a pillow, and that out of one side of his shorts, his HUGE testicles are protruding. I am not kidding or exaggerating when I tell you that the part hanging out of his shorts was easily the size of a large grapefruit (but a mushy grapefruit, being smooshed down against the curb). Don't know how he gets around with balls that big. And how could he sit?  I made Brant turn around so we could go back and get a picture, but by the time we did he was gone. Speedy for a dude hauling around such a load.

In other news:

• I have an allergy induced sinus infection. 

• Spent the last few days brushing up on my algebra skills, and guess what? I like math. A lot.

•  I got a new car and my Hawaii drivers license this week. Brant is the best at finding awesome older cars, and my license picture makes me look like the victim of a bad spray tan. No you may not see it.

• Still haven't been able to fully open that dang coconut. Maddie can't even do it.  Hoping to buy a machete this weekend.

Have a happy 4th of July my friends.

And remember, keep your balls in your shorts.