Costumes

You would think this was for Halloween. It's not. Our Halloween costumes are homemade and much less impressive.
This is just a typical play date at our friend Valerie's house. She has an awesome closet full of costumes. More costumes than I have clothes. No wonder my kids BEG to go there everyday.

Cannons

The hike to the cannons in Utulei is short enough for the kids, close enough to do in an hour, and scenic enough to refresh us. Here's photos from a recent papa+kids excursion.

More Kay Angel

Please enjoy some Sunday afternoon fun. Though I think Melinda already posted about Kay Angel and friends, we thought it would be nice to record more details before they change too much in Isaac's imagination flurry.

Paradise Lost

Believe it or not, sometimes I'd like to move. I just say "Ephraim, how much longer are we gonna live here?!" or "Ephraim, when can we go someplace civilized?" Today was one of those days. We were watching a movie and the guy bought strawberries on the side of the road (Ironman2). Isaac asked, "Mom, when are we going to have strawberries again?" I almost cried. I did cry later, actually. I answered "There ARE no strawberries in this country." Ugh.
It's not just about the strawberries, folks. It's the stores that sell expired food, the mold on my cupboards, the jungle trail we call our road (which has no real name), the offices that close early, the power that shuts off randomly, the water that turns off during a shower, the dogs that prevent my family from bike rides, frustrating mess of ordering things online to an unrecognized territory, the overall lack of qualified workers in important positions... I'll stop there. You get the picture.

Sometimes the grass seems greener NOT in the jungle.

Someone please comment and tell me living in the states is not all it's cracked up to be and I'm so lucky to live here. And who needs a real shopping center anyway, and the less choices the simpler the life, etc. Please.

Our Umu

Our neighbors got a brilliant idea to to an umu. A palagi umu, basically. That means that we bunch of white people prepared a Samoan style dinner baked in a pile of burning rocks and leaves. (When I say "we" I mean "they" because I didn't help at all. I was at a school meeting half the day.)

Damien was our resident Samoan giving instructions and techniques. Ephraim drew from youthful experiences to scrape and strain the coconuts until his hands couldn't handle it anymore. Then James took over. Then Damien finished the job.

Frankly doing an umu is WAY too much work to do regularly. And many people here do it every week. They basically spend all day cooking for lunchtime. When I say "they" I mean the young people. When you reach a certain age you don't have to do that work anymore. Age has its perks.

The boys took their fish prep job very seriously.

Good training for their future at Starkist cannery.

We were nervous when the rain threatened our umu; when you cook outside the weather reigns (get it?).

In the end it turned out to be an amazing feast. My personal favorite: palusami. Young taro leaves baked in coconut milk and onions. Luscious. Dinners with our neighbors are ALWAYS a delicious success. We talked about our next umu... It's like giving birth, after awhile you think labor wasn't THAT bad. So, yeah, we'll see about next time. And when I say "we" you know I don't mean myself.

The Hut

Our amazing neighbors have been working on a hut for the past few months. The foundation posts were already there, leftover from some home renovation project, I suppose. An eyesore becomes an opportunity. It helps that our neighbor is a foreman of one of the largest construction teams on island.


Now our boys have somewhere to release their constructive energy (pound nails into the floor) like good little youngsters.

Looking forward to good campouts in the hut...

Kids in the Kitchen

Although life's been hectic, we TRY to get some home cooked meals in there most days. In fact last week Ephraim made the most amazing pan fried potatoes I've ever eaten thanks to carefully followed instructions from Terence and Vicki Conran's cookbook, Classic Conran. They were cut, boiled for 12 minutes then coated in hot meat drippings and baked until they were golden and gorgeous. Those aren't the official instructions and I'm not looking it up for you. Sorry. You get the idea.

I'm counting boxed Ghirardelli's as homemade.