I really hate February. I used to not like it because it is probably the worst month in schools for both teacher and student burn-out. There isn't any reason for the burn out - the month is short, you just finished a nice long break and Spring Break is around the corner - but the month seems to be a nadir.
Now I hate it because it means financial aid applications. Last night, I particularly hated it because my computer with my half done taxes crashed, which meant I didn't have the information easily available that I needed for the TWO different applications for MIT. After trying to repair the software issue on my nine year old computer, I finally kicked my son off his computer (which he needed to do his programming job) because, after all, those were his applications.
On top of that, our internet provider is not terribly reliable between 7:30- 9:00 pm, so the connection kept going down, which meant I had to redo several sections repeatedly.
I am very sad that I spent the whole of Superbowl Sunday doing my taxes and not I have to re-install the software on a different computer and do them OVER. I was very close to getting done - I didn't finish because I needed information from my husband, and he was - well, watching the Superbowl. Not only do I have to do them over, but I have to re-do the FAFSA. I have to do it for my daughter, as well as the College Board CSS thing, which, believe it or not, is worse than the FAFSA. Plus, it costs money, but since it has the "extra information" place, it might save me from the dance with the financial aid office - the one where you explain, last year's taxes notwithstanding, our income is less than half of what it was last year, job loss yada, yada, yada....
I didn't have time to exercise, but going up and down two flights of stairs repeatedly looking for old tax documents (which I would normally find all neatly organized on the computer - grrrr) substituted for that.
I did get them done, though - even though, since I didn't actually finish my taxes, I have to "update" (re-do) the FAFSA, and do the whole IDOC thing for the College Board application. I have years more of this, because number two child is heading to college, and right when he graduates, number 3 hits college age - if he chooses college.
In the middle of that, I forgot I had to bring a breakfast food to our morning meeting (I was going to make a sweet bread braid), got to bed at about midnight, heard the alarm at 5 am and had to get up and make muffins in a hurry. They aren't as good as the breaded bread recipe from my grandma, but they will work. Maybe the fact that they came out okay means that Murphy's Law will let go of the day and let it all sail smoothly.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Monday, February 13, 2012
All in the Timing.
Yesterday was rather limited because my youngest had the county band practice - it's not the real county band, but rather a middle school version. She was late because of me - I was trying to get something done so I could feel productive. I was not brought up to be late, believe me, but somehow my husband's side of the family has rubbed off on me. It has somehow become okay to be a little bit late if you are working on something and need to finish it up.
The way we were brought up, my sister and I, was you were 15 minutes early for everything, and when you were at the airport with Dad, and they called the first call for seats, you were on the plane - even though you weren't traveling with children under the age of 5 or anywhere needing assistance with boarding.
My poor children must be so confused, because I still pretty much raised them up the way I was raised (minus the boarding the airplane thing - I figure your seat isn't going anywhere and sitting for an extra bunch of time in a plane where everyone is bumping you with their bags isn't productive), but their dad seems to almost invariably take a shower right when it's time to leave. My kids need to pick their model - if you are the 14 year old and it's a school day, you pick the dad model - only it isn't a shower you are doing at the last minute, it's getting out of bed. I wake him up at 5:30, his alarm rings at 6:00, and his feet hit the floor at 6:15 and not a minute before. We're out the door between 5 and 7 minutes later. Fortunately, he can eat breakfast at school.
I have been telling him for a couple of weeks that today he needed to get up earlier, because I had to be at work earlier today. He did get up earlier - but we still didn't get out the door until the regular time. Sometimes I wonder if I reset his clock so it was running ahead if it would help him get up at a more reasonable hour.
Yesterdays lateness was because I wanted to both dig up part of my garden in preparation for new planting and I wanted to clean the animal housing. This made me so dirty I needed a bath. My daughter just rolled her eyes at me and said, "What? Are you dad now?"
I just pointed out that my bath was like 3 minutes long, whereas Dad will take take his time while I am fuming out in the car - channeling my inner own father at his most timely. The practice was 3 hours long so I cruised to town, bought some flour and butter (wishing I could make my own) and then sat in the car for two restful hours reading a book. I know I am not the only mom who takes advantage to rest while waiting for kids to get done with activities.
The band directors didn't let the kids out until they were well over 15 minutes past schedule, so I felt much less guilty when my daughter said, "Mr. H said I shouldn't be late again." Since we had yet to go to Mass and the last one of the day is at 6 pm, I foresaw the problem as the band practice went late. I started calling home (I know, I am annoying), "Make sure the boys are ready - we're going to be late...." That was code for, "Get the boys ready, and get yourself ready - stop your project on time, take your darned bath....."
Of course, the boys were ready, but my husband was still working outside. He still needed his bath. We were five minutes late for Mass. Everyone is on Hilo time, though, so we easily found a seat - the church doesn't fill up until about 10 minutes after Mass starts. But my upbringing still makes me cringe as we slide into our seats, late, in front of all those eyes.
The way we were brought up, my sister and I, was you were 15 minutes early for everything, and when you were at the airport with Dad, and they called the first call for seats, you were on the plane - even though you weren't traveling with children under the age of 5 or anywhere needing assistance with boarding.
My poor children must be so confused, because I still pretty much raised them up the way I was raised (minus the boarding the airplane thing - I figure your seat isn't going anywhere and sitting for an extra bunch of time in a plane where everyone is bumping you with their bags isn't productive), but their dad seems to almost invariably take a shower right when it's time to leave. My kids need to pick their model - if you are the 14 year old and it's a school day, you pick the dad model - only it isn't a shower you are doing at the last minute, it's getting out of bed. I wake him up at 5:30, his alarm rings at 6:00, and his feet hit the floor at 6:15 and not a minute before. We're out the door between 5 and 7 minutes later. Fortunately, he can eat breakfast at school.
I have been telling him for a couple of weeks that today he needed to get up earlier, because I had to be at work earlier today. He did get up earlier - but we still didn't get out the door until the regular time. Sometimes I wonder if I reset his clock so it was running ahead if it would help him get up at a more reasonable hour.
Yesterdays lateness was because I wanted to both dig up part of my garden in preparation for new planting and I wanted to clean the animal housing. This made me so dirty I needed a bath. My daughter just rolled her eyes at me and said, "What? Are you dad now?"
I just pointed out that my bath was like 3 minutes long, whereas Dad will take take his time while I am fuming out in the car - channeling my inner own father at his most timely. The practice was 3 hours long so I cruised to town, bought some flour and butter (wishing I could make my own) and then sat in the car for two restful hours reading a book. I know I am not the only mom who takes advantage to rest while waiting for kids to get done with activities.
The band directors didn't let the kids out until they were well over 15 minutes past schedule, so I felt much less guilty when my daughter said, "Mr. H said I shouldn't be late again." Since we had yet to go to Mass and the last one of the day is at 6 pm, I foresaw the problem as the band practice went late. I started calling home (I know, I am annoying), "Make sure the boys are ready - we're going to be late...." That was code for, "Get the boys ready, and get yourself ready - stop your project on time, take your darned bath....."
Of course, the boys were ready, but my husband was still working outside. He still needed his bath. We were five minutes late for Mass. Everyone is on Hilo time, though, so we easily found a seat - the church doesn't fill up until about 10 minutes after Mass starts. But my upbringing still makes me cringe as we slide into our seats, late, in front of all those eyes.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Track Meet and Cooking
On Friday, a gaggle of young men came over. Cranky me (tired me) texted my son several times about their plans for dinner. Finally, after the third, "We're not sure," I just told my son if you don't tell me by 5:30, we're having leftovers and you boys will have to bring something to add, because there isn't enough.
Well, they showed up with 3 lbs of the gnarliest bacon, won ton wrappers and various other ingredients and made very professional looking won ton. They fried them up, cleaned the kitchen completely, and had enough bacon leftover for fried rice in the morning. The four of them ate about 10 cups of fried rice!
I am absolutely biased, but I think kids who take part in individual sports, like running and swimming, tend to be really nice kids. This is not to diss the kids who are in team sports, or no sports, but I have to say that through years of age group track and high school Cross Country and Track, my kids have made some really nice friends.
Which leads me to yesterday's marathon Age Group Track meet. Beyond getting poured on while using my umbrella to shield the 12 year old girls discus competitors from the rain and having to really argue to convince the security guard that, yes, there really is parking in the teacher's parking lot, and yes, I really am going to work in my classroom as well as attend the track meet (I wouldn't have argued so much if I didn't want have to bring a big heavy box of newspapers one teacher saved for me for mulch - I would have ended up parking a good mile away from my classroom otherwise), the meet was great. My son placed second in high jump and his relay team broke the school record for the 4 X 200 - they were pretty amazing. I was laughing ruefully with one of the other mothers, because we were both pretty annoyed when we found out our sons dropped their individual events to run this event - the last race in a really long day. My daughter did well in her first attempt at shot put and discus (for a not very big girl, she did well), and she showed her real strength of character by taking my place in the concession stand and working with her aunty so I could watch her brother in his events and do some last work in preparation for the week ahead at school. She is only 12, but she is a huge help to me in so many ways.
She is going through the identity issues - her brother told me (gossip city) she started crying in Hawaiian class because all her siblings had something they were good at - programming, sports, etc. but she had nothing. I told her, you are good at so many things - I don't know how I could do without you! I remember feeling that way - like I wasn't beyond "medium" in anything. She'll have to find her own strength, but in the meantime, I will just keep telling her how much I appreciate her. If I have to deal with a sick or hurt animal, she cooks dinner, for example. And it isn't just mac-n-cheese. She made pizza the other day (dough from scratch) because she wanted to take some on her field trip. I was no where near as capable as she is when I was 12, and that's a fact.
Today, I want to dig up the outside garden, make a bunch of pizzas for my rotation to feed the drama club (I was going to make musubi, but my son wants pizza - and it is easier, so I am glad), take my daughter to the County Band practice thing, and go to church. I have to also hang laundry, do some general cleaning, and do the week's baking. I really shouldn't be blogging....
Well, they showed up with 3 lbs of the gnarliest bacon, won ton wrappers and various other ingredients and made very professional looking won ton. They fried them up, cleaned the kitchen completely, and had enough bacon leftover for fried rice in the morning. The four of them ate about 10 cups of fried rice!
I am absolutely biased, but I think kids who take part in individual sports, like running and swimming, tend to be really nice kids. This is not to diss the kids who are in team sports, or no sports, but I have to say that through years of age group track and high school Cross Country and Track, my kids have made some really nice friends.
Which leads me to yesterday's marathon Age Group Track meet. Beyond getting poured on while using my umbrella to shield the 12 year old girls discus competitors from the rain and having to really argue to convince the security guard that, yes, there really is parking in the teacher's parking lot, and yes, I really am going to work in my classroom as well as attend the track meet (I wouldn't have argued so much if I didn't want have to bring a big heavy box of newspapers one teacher saved for me for mulch - I would have ended up parking a good mile away from my classroom otherwise), the meet was great. My son placed second in high jump and his relay team broke the school record for the 4 X 200 - they were pretty amazing. I was laughing ruefully with one of the other mothers, because we were both pretty annoyed when we found out our sons dropped their individual events to run this event - the last race in a really long day. My daughter did well in her first attempt at shot put and discus (for a not very big girl, she did well), and she showed her real strength of character by taking my place in the concession stand and working with her aunty so I could watch her brother in his events and do some last work in preparation for the week ahead at school. She is only 12, but she is a huge help to me in so many ways.
She is going through the identity issues - her brother told me (gossip city) she started crying in Hawaiian class because all her siblings had something they were good at - programming, sports, etc. but she had nothing. I told her, you are good at so many things - I don't know how I could do without you! I remember feeling that way - like I wasn't beyond "medium" in anything. She'll have to find her own strength, but in the meantime, I will just keep telling her how much I appreciate her. If I have to deal with a sick or hurt animal, she cooks dinner, for example. And it isn't just mac-n-cheese. She made pizza the other day (dough from scratch) because she wanted to take some on her field trip. I was no where near as capable as she is when I was 12, and that's a fact.
Today, I want to dig up the outside garden, make a bunch of pizzas for my rotation to feed the drama club (I was going to make musubi, but my son wants pizza - and it is easier, so I am glad), take my daughter to the County Band practice thing, and go to church. I have to also hang laundry, do some general cleaning, and do the week's baking. I really shouldn't be blogging....
Friday, February 10, 2012
Sleeping....How I Miss It
You'd think after nearly year of sleeping next to each other, my husband and I would be used it again. When he was commuting to Oahu, I got used to sleeping really well several days a week, and not so well when he was home.
Now, it seems that when one of us is sleeping, the other is tossing and turning - and that wakes up the other one, just in time for the first insomniac to fall into a fitful slumber. I doubt we're are getting quality sleep at any given moment on any given night - maybe at 4:30 am, when the alarm is just about to ring....
I have to admit I get a little cranky when I get subtly blamed (although I am sure I am doing my own level of subtle blaming - and in the middle I can harbor some very anti-social thoughts) for keeping him awake and making his day miserable. After all, I am the one who has to get up and go to work - and there is no auto-pilot work when you are in a classroom. Well, maybe for a teacher who has a lot of worksheets and desk work for kids, but even then, I doubt it.
I am embarrassed to be yawning in the Study Hall, yawning in my classroom, yawning on the walkways. I am frustrated by my desire to lay my head down on my desk during my prep period. I am so tired I want to cry. The only other time I have felt this tired while teaching was when I was pregnant with my second child. I would lock my classroom door and sleep during lunch - and be thoroughly embarrassed when the room cleaner caught me at it. I had a nearly two year old at home at the time and I was just exhausted. This isn't that bad, but almost.
This level of tiredness makes facing Age Group Track and a spell in a very busy concession stand to support the High School Cross Country Team tomorrow sound like and insurmountable obstacle. I want to sleep in and have time to do my laundry and my baking and try to clean my house. My younger son told me he is running in the relay, which makes me want to scream. (Not that I will ever tell him that). Relays are the last races - and sometimes the lights have gone on by the time they run those races. When you have been at the track since 8:00 am, this is really quite a long day. At least I am not coaching this year, thanks be to God.
Can you tell that I like Cross Country a lot more than Track and Field? Yup - at the most you have four races in XC, the terrain is varied and interesting and there are no horrible metal bleachers. Track meets are these 12 hour affairs and if you have a son doing high jump in the very early morning and running the 4 x 100 at the very end....12 exhausting hours you go home and you still have to face the baking and the cleaning and the washing....
Actually, I love Age Group Track. We've been doing it for years and it's a blast to see all the kids from the various schools growing up. I loved coaching, although I really am glad I am not doing it this year. I am a little daunted with the prospect of doing the concession stand during the lunch shift because Age Group Track pulls several hundred kids in for competition and their several hundred parents are there to watch them - and they all want chili bowl or braddah pops and the lines go on forever. My feet hurt already.
Now, it seems that when one of us is sleeping, the other is tossing and turning - and that wakes up the other one, just in time for the first insomniac to fall into a fitful slumber. I doubt we're are getting quality sleep at any given moment on any given night - maybe at 4:30 am, when the alarm is just about to ring....
I have to admit I get a little cranky when I get subtly blamed (although I am sure I am doing my own level of subtle blaming - and in the middle I can harbor some very anti-social thoughts) for keeping him awake and making his day miserable. After all, I am the one who has to get up and go to work - and there is no auto-pilot work when you are in a classroom. Well, maybe for a teacher who has a lot of worksheets and desk work for kids, but even then, I doubt it.
I am embarrassed to be yawning in the Study Hall, yawning in my classroom, yawning on the walkways. I am frustrated by my desire to lay my head down on my desk during my prep period. I am so tired I want to cry. The only other time I have felt this tired while teaching was when I was pregnant with my second child. I would lock my classroom door and sleep during lunch - and be thoroughly embarrassed when the room cleaner caught me at it. I had a nearly two year old at home at the time and I was just exhausted. This isn't that bad, but almost.
This level of tiredness makes facing Age Group Track and a spell in a very busy concession stand to support the High School Cross Country Team tomorrow sound like and insurmountable obstacle. I want to sleep in and have time to do my laundry and my baking and try to clean my house. My younger son told me he is running in the relay, which makes me want to scream. (Not that I will ever tell him that). Relays are the last races - and sometimes the lights have gone on by the time they run those races. When you have been at the track since 8:00 am, this is really quite a long day. At least I am not coaching this year, thanks be to God.
Can you tell that I like Cross Country a lot more than Track and Field? Yup - at the most you have four races in XC, the terrain is varied and interesting and there are no horrible metal bleachers. Track meets are these 12 hour affairs and if you have a son doing high jump in the very early morning and running the 4 x 100 at the very end....12 exhausting hours you go home and you still have to face the baking and the cleaning and the washing....
Actually, I love Age Group Track. We've been doing it for years and it's a blast to see all the kids from the various schools growing up. I loved coaching, although I really am glad I am not doing it this year. I am a little daunted with the prospect of doing the concession stand during the lunch shift because Age Group Track pulls several hundred kids in for competition and their several hundred parents are there to watch them - and they all want chili bowl or braddah pops and the lines go on forever. My feet hurt already.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Agriculture Land and Taxes
I just got an email from a friend on Oahu about a proposal to take horse facilities out of the list of those eligible for agriculture breaks. If this passes, this will put a lot of equestrian facilities out of business - land values for acres and acres on that island are insane without the agriculture discount.
A few months back, I saw that there was a measure about taking "hobby farms" off the list of those who get agriculture tax breaks, too. The designation, "hobby farm", includes people who farm for their own consumption, as well as farmers who don't make a minimum amount of money on sales. If that passed, it would have put a lot of legitimate, but small, farmers out of business. A farmer that sold one alpaca might make it, but a farmer who consistently went to farmer's markets and made a few hundred every week might not.
A similar story was a raid on the Kailua Farmer's market (on Oahu) where tax collectors descended on the farmer's market and fined people for not charging GE tax and for not keeping customer by customer records of sales - these farmers could tell you how much bulk they sold, but didn't have receipts. If you've been to a farmer's market, you can see the problem - who gets a receipt?
I know our state is hurting for revenue, but with our food security being so precarious as it is, these sorts of things seem counter-productive. Why can't GE taxes be based on total sales and the records of pounds harvested and pounds sold be enough? Even though the horse stables are only a side issue in food security (they do provide a lot of manure for farmers), what seems to be a concerted attack on agriculture activities is alarming to me.
It just troubles me - and it is on my mind, because it's tax time. When you have to do the FAFSA, taxes are no longer a matter of driving by the Post Office at midnight to catch the special long hours....you have to get them done early!
A few months back, I saw that there was a measure about taking "hobby farms" off the list of those who get agriculture tax breaks, too. The designation, "hobby farm", includes people who farm for their own consumption, as well as farmers who don't make a minimum amount of money on sales. If that passed, it would have put a lot of legitimate, but small, farmers out of business. A farmer that sold one alpaca might make it, but a farmer who consistently went to farmer's markets and made a few hundred every week might not.
A similar story was a raid on the Kailua Farmer's market (on Oahu) where tax collectors descended on the farmer's market and fined people for not charging GE tax and for not keeping customer by customer records of sales - these farmers could tell you how much bulk they sold, but didn't have receipts. If you've been to a farmer's market, you can see the problem - who gets a receipt?
I know our state is hurting for revenue, but with our food security being so precarious as it is, these sorts of things seem counter-productive. Why can't GE taxes be based on total sales and the records of pounds harvested and pounds sold be enough? Even though the horse stables are only a side issue in food security (they do provide a lot of manure for farmers), what seems to be a concerted attack on agriculture activities is alarming to me.
It just troubles me - and it is on my mind, because it's tax time. When you have to do the FAFSA, taxes are no longer a matter of driving by the Post Office at midnight to catch the special long hours....you have to get them done early!
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Homemade Food
To one of my sons, "homemade food" is an epithet. I made refried beans, using my pressure cooker, and homemade tortilla the other night. He came up for dinner and said, "Oh, homemade food," and he promptly went to the refrigerator to heat up something else to go into the homemade tortillas.
I haven't made tortillas in probably a decade - the first ones came out continent shaped. By the end of the batch, they came out a bit rounder. I didn't like the recipe I tried this time, so I will try a different one next time. With a package of 10 tortillas running over $5, I will be making my own more often than not these days.
It was the first time I cooked beans in my big pressure cooker. I couldn't believe how well they came out. I am definitely doing that again. I have a big 25 lb bag of pintos in the pantry.
My older son got his first paycheck from his new programming job. He was so proud of it, he posted a picture of himself holding it. Since I rarely check my Facebook, I heard about it from one of my students. He had a job with the USDA this summer, but the school found that for him as an internship - this job he found, interviewed and got himself.
He told his younger brother he would buy cereal for the family once he cashed his check (Once the bags got smaller and the price went up - I refused to buy it anymore). We were in Wal-Mart for dog food yesterday, so we stopped in the cereal aisle. He took one look at the price of a bag of generic cereal (nearly $9) and said, "I guess you should make waffles for the freezer, because I am not going to buy that either." So after dinner was done, last night, I made waffles.
The night before, my son reminded me that he needed German food for his social studies. They were studying immigration, and he picked German immigration. They wrote a "diary" from the point of view of an immigrant, and then he had to bring in food. I love project based education, but when the project consists of ME buying or making food, you have to wonder.... Anyway, I wanted to make something elaborate in memory of my Grandma and my MomMom, who were fabulous bakers, I ended up just making an egg braid - I didn't even stuff it with cheese or walnut and cinnamon paste. I looked so yummy in the morning that I decided I was only sending half to the class and keeping half for home. I figured with 24 kids bringing food, there would be way too much.
The sad thing is, my ewe Minnie died. She was still nursing the two - the floppy one who gets stronger every day and the ewe lamb. The ewe lamb cried all night, but Buddy, the floppy one, knows that as much as he is scared of me, I bring food. I can't get the ewe lamb to take the formula at all. I tried making a kind of mash of it with COB, but she ran over to the grown up feeders. I will just have to keep an eye on her. Buddy will eat out of my hand or my daughter's - so we can monitor how much he is getting. It just feels like it is always something - and remember my growing superstition of white sheep = bad luck? This is another case - Minnie was a white ewe with the Barbados markings.
I haven't made tortillas in probably a decade - the first ones came out continent shaped. By the end of the batch, they came out a bit rounder. I didn't like the recipe I tried this time, so I will try a different one next time. With a package of 10 tortillas running over $5, I will be making my own more often than not these days.
It was the first time I cooked beans in my big pressure cooker. I couldn't believe how well they came out. I am definitely doing that again. I have a big 25 lb bag of pintos in the pantry.
My older son got his first paycheck from his new programming job. He was so proud of it, he posted a picture of himself holding it. Since I rarely check my Facebook, I heard about it from one of my students. He had a job with the USDA this summer, but the school found that for him as an internship - this job he found, interviewed and got himself.
He told his younger brother he would buy cereal for the family once he cashed his check (Once the bags got smaller and the price went up - I refused to buy it anymore). We were in Wal-Mart for dog food yesterday, so we stopped in the cereal aisle. He took one look at the price of a bag of generic cereal (nearly $9) and said, "I guess you should make waffles for the freezer, because I am not going to buy that either." So after dinner was done, last night, I made waffles.
The night before, my son reminded me that he needed German food for his social studies. They were studying immigration, and he picked German immigration. They wrote a "diary" from the point of view of an immigrant, and then he had to bring in food. I love project based education, but when the project consists of ME buying or making food, you have to wonder.... Anyway, I wanted to make something elaborate in memory of my Grandma and my MomMom, who were fabulous bakers, I ended up just making an egg braid - I didn't even stuff it with cheese or walnut and cinnamon paste. I looked so yummy in the morning that I decided I was only sending half to the class and keeping half for home. I figured with 24 kids bringing food, there would be way too much.
The sad thing is, my ewe Minnie died. She was still nursing the two - the floppy one who gets stronger every day and the ewe lamb. The ewe lamb cried all night, but Buddy, the floppy one, knows that as much as he is scared of me, I bring food. I can't get the ewe lamb to take the formula at all. I tried making a kind of mash of it with COB, but she ran over to the grown up feeders. I will just have to keep an eye on her. Buddy will eat out of my hand or my daughter's - so we can monitor how much he is getting. It just feels like it is always something - and remember my growing superstition of white sheep = bad luck? This is another case - Minnie was a white ewe with the Barbados markings.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Things I Love About My Home
I guess I have two homes - one is my "hometown" which is on Oahu, and the other, of course, is here. I have lived on this property for nearly 16 years. This is the longest stretch of time I have ever lived in the same location, ever. My childhood and young adulthood was fairly peripatetic.
When I first drafted this post, I started to compare Kailua and the Big Island. In a lot of ways, Kailua has to win hands down. However, the median house price there is $800,000, if I kept a horse it would be at a stable at $500/month, and the lots are the size of postage stamps. You don't care, because there is the beach and all these other things to do, but growing food would be difficult.
Even after 16 years here, in a lot of ways I have more of a support system on Oahu. My parents are on Oahu. People I grew up with are there. Here people are either shy or unfriendly - most of my friends are from work. I know a lot of teens and young adults because I taught them or their siblings, but that's a different thing altogether. When I left my last school to come here, I left my social support network behind. It was hard.
But because I can have a house here, and enough land to make Oahu friends freak out (only 7.5 acres, but that's a lot there) and can have sheep and chickens and horses, it does make it worth it. When I first got here, I didn't understand the weather (Kailua is very easy to predict), the perpetual clouds were depressing. Now I find them beautiful and even comforting (when they aren't pissing down torrential rain for three months straight). It's cooler and greener here, the traffic is still minimal, and there is space. I can't hear my neighbors. My neighbors are nuts (I have some early posts about how they shot my dog and, even after a decade and a half, still won't wave at me), but their business is theirs and mine is mine.
I miss my parents and the beaches and seeing people I have known nearly my whole life. Even though I wouldn't want to pay the stable fees, I miss riding with other people. I even miss restaurants (there are some here, but it's sad) and social activities, although I am too busy to really do them. But I am so grateful for my land and my animals and my garden, even if it is a little defunct right now. I appreciate the soft clouds and humid but comfortable air on my mountain. I am even grateful for the Volcano - even though the vog is horrible when it comes our way and I tend to take the eruption for granted and rarely go see it. I love my new job and I love the friends I left at my old one. (I wish I could see them more often).
Sometimes, making steps to homestead, even a little, means losing other things. I think it is worth it. Particularly since my parents get to visit sometimes, and my daughter who moved away. My dad and stepmom, in fact, are on the island now and I get to see them tomorrow! Something to look forward to!
When I first drafted this post, I started to compare Kailua and the Big Island. In a lot of ways, Kailua has to win hands down. However, the median house price there is $800,000, if I kept a horse it would be at a stable at $500/month, and the lots are the size of postage stamps. You don't care, because there is the beach and all these other things to do, but growing food would be difficult.
Even after 16 years here, in a lot of ways I have more of a support system on Oahu. My parents are on Oahu. People I grew up with are there. Here people are either shy or unfriendly - most of my friends are from work. I know a lot of teens and young adults because I taught them or their siblings, but that's a different thing altogether. When I left my last school to come here, I left my social support network behind. It was hard.
But because I can have a house here, and enough land to make Oahu friends freak out (only 7.5 acres, but that's a lot there) and can have sheep and chickens and horses, it does make it worth it. When I first got here, I didn't understand the weather (Kailua is very easy to predict), the perpetual clouds were depressing. Now I find them beautiful and even comforting (when they aren't pissing down torrential rain for three months straight). It's cooler and greener here, the traffic is still minimal, and there is space. I can't hear my neighbors. My neighbors are nuts (I have some early posts about how they shot my dog and, even after a decade and a half, still won't wave at me), but their business is theirs and mine is mine.
I miss my parents and the beaches and seeing people I have known nearly my whole life. Even though I wouldn't want to pay the stable fees, I miss riding with other people. I even miss restaurants (there are some here, but it's sad) and social activities, although I am too busy to really do them. But I am so grateful for my land and my animals and my garden, even if it is a little defunct right now. I appreciate the soft clouds and humid but comfortable air on my mountain. I am even grateful for the Volcano - even though the vog is horrible when it comes our way and I tend to take the eruption for granted and rarely go see it. I love my new job and I love the friends I left at my old one. (I wish I could see them more often).
Sometimes, making steps to homestead, even a little, means losing other things. I think it is worth it. Particularly since my parents get to visit sometimes, and my daughter who moved away. My dad and stepmom, in fact, are on the island now and I get to see them tomorrow! Something to look forward to!
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