Posted by: littlehouseonthebigisland | October 25, 2013

Peaceable Kingdom

Yesterday I had to go do a produce delivery and a produce pick-up because my husband is still laid up with boils. Since that means being out in public I changed into something more presentable than my farm togs: pink leggings ripped at the knee with dirty white socks pulled up over them and and an over-sized, stained green T-Shirt all of which go nicely with big rubber boots or torn up Crocs, which also serve, I’m told, as a 100% effective form of birth control.

I asked my friend Meris what she thought. Do I really have to change everytime before leaving the farm? Meris said she used to go out in her ‘togs’ but when the lady at the grocery store asked if she was paying with food stamps, she decided to stop. Maybe too, I thought, it’s different when you’re at the age where clerks refer to you as ‘ma’am’ instead of ‘miss.’  Hobo chicks may be kinda cute, but middle aged hobo mammas, not so much.  So I put on a better-fitting, clean T-shirt and leggings which turned out to have a hole.  But no matter, I scrunchied the bottoms up to hide it, not realizing that the crotch had three more holes, and felt to make sure each ear had an earring and that they matched.

Then I dropped off our produce at the grocery store and went south to pick up more avocados and limes.  We sometimes buy from other farmers and sell to our outlets when we are short on our own crops.  Hawaii has many elevations and hence climates, with different eco-systems and weather every few miles, like a magical storybook land where someone somewhere always has avocados.

The thing is, I was really tired from tossing and turning the night before worrying about my husband and also about the people who are visiting who may be moving in, that he doesn’t want to discuss.  On the drive up to the farm, in the rain, I was practically falling asleep at the wheel. 

Back at Lil’ House I let in the dogs and one of the cats.  I got sunflower seeds and scooped up the the kitty.  Milo and Shep dozed at my feet.  Milo, in her doggy bed, and Shep on the rug.  Cream settled into an embrace and purred on my tummy on the couch, where I dozed, too, and nibbled on the sunflower seeds, spitting the shells into a dish while the rain beat down on the metal roof. James had hobbled off to do who knows what.  A pot of leftovers boiled on the stove.  All was calm.  All was bright.  Such quiet and peace as I blissed out, one seed at a time, with my furry beloveds, safe and warm and dry in our Little House on the Big Island.

 

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