Now Christmas Past

      More Letters From Paradise
         Now Christmas Past
All the gifts have been opened, the wrappings have been put in the trash. No more Christmas carols on the radio and t.v. The tree is taken down and its decorations put away until next year. The same things are done here as everywhere else.

Thinking back, I remember at this time of year my friends and I would roam the neighborhood looking for Christmas trees that had been thrown out. Some trees still had tinsel icicles left on them. When very carefully removed and placed over your hand, they could be put on a bit of cardboard, to be used next Christmas.

Real icicles hung from the roofs of many houses. These icicles were refreshing, but lacking of any flavor. New ice skates would be tried out, but if not, old high top women's figure skates with soft sides, bought at the Salvation Army store for $2.00 would have to do. No ankle support, resulting in very sore ankles.

If Santa had brought you a new sled, so much the better. If not, you could always slide down snow packed hills, seated on a coal shovel, or with a bit of cardboard or some linoleum.

You could lie down in the snow and move your hands and feet, making a snow angel. A wide circle could be tramped in the snow and divided into four parts, for a game of "Fox and Geese."

Snow forts and igloos were built and knocked down. There was always the idea to freeze snowballs to be used in summer. But none of my friends knew anybody who owned  a deep freeze, with extra room they were not  using. So the idea became only a memory.

We were all outdoor kids in those days, many with sore ankles, cold feet, and red faces.
After Christmas, winter seemed to go on forever.

         Aloha
         Grant

Honolulu Doings

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          Honolulu Doings
The days are rushing us towards Christmas. Tonto set up the Christmas tree as usual, but a couple of days later it came down with a crash. Too many ornaments on one side. All is well again.

Tonto was given a breadfruit from a friend at her yoga class. I hadn't prepared one for a long time. Breadfruit is about the same size as a melon. One way to fix it is to boil it until it splits. Scoop out the seeds in the center, remove the outside skin, mash, and add butter. It is better than mashed potatoes. First tasters agreed.  This is the plant Capt. Bligh was to bring back from Tahiti, in order to be planted in the Caribbean, to feed slaves.  After the mutiny, breadfruit was introduced, and the slaves refused to eat it. It was not part of their diet.

Honolulu continues to amaze. We have friends Bernard and Mary. He is Filipino, she is Vietnamese. Mary's name in Vietnamese is, Thuy, pronounced "Twee".  I have fun saying "One Two Twee." She has two brothers, Nghi, pronounced  "Nee", and Huy, pronounced "Whee".  Wonderful people, with the most adorable son, Bernardo, almost 2.  They were our very first friends when we moved here 10 1/2 years ago.  They moved to Tennessee and then came back!

Speaking of names.  We were eating at a new Mexican restaurant the other night, and the server made guacamole at our table. Someone asked if he was from Mexico.  He said, "I'm from Micronesia." It figures, I had just finished lawn bowling with a woman who was from Switzerland.

Big holiday plans. We went  with a group of our friends to the annual trolley ride around the city to view the Christmas lights.  Many Christmas parties too, we will be busy.

We took a tour to see the decorations at Washington Place, built in the 1840's and the former home of Hawaii's queen. While there, we heard the choir from St. Andrews Cathedral, and by accident, sat with our newly-elected Governor Ige and his children.  I wished him well, as his is a big job.

President Obama and his family have arrived to enjoy Christmas and the great weather.

We wish you all a very Merry Christmas from the land where palm trees sway.  Mele Kalikimaka!
          Aloha
          Grant

A Christmas Story

      More Letters From Paradise
         A Christmas Story
The following is a Christmas story I wrote several years ago. I always felt that it should be published. When we first moved here I entered the story in a contest being held by our local newspaper. Of course I didn't even gain any mention. I was so naive. The story should have had a Hawaiian theme. What did people here know about snow? Anyway here it is, and at least I will know that the story will be there somewhere in the internet cloud.
            One Other Christmas

"I'll bet you, you can't." "I'll bet you I can." "Can't." "Can too." Three snowballs flew across the street and spattered on the building. The target of the three snowballs was a three story painting of a giant on the wall of the Super Giant Supermarket. More specifically, the genitals of the giant. "Told  you so!"

It was December, 1946, and we were on our way home from school. My two best friends who were with me were Dave and Richard. Dave was wearing his usual gray fur hat with ear flaps, which I always thought made him look silly, but I never dared to say so. He had on his motorcycle boots which he always wore, winter or summer. I enjoyed seeing him run through the deep snow. Rich, on the other hand, was without any outstanding features. He was wearing a knit stocking cap, the same as me. He was very blonde, and Dave had dark hair with bushy eyebrows.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Rich asked."I want a gun," Dave said. He could probably have a gun, as his father owned a dress store and had a farm outside of town too. Rich wanted a bicycle, and I wanted a chemistry set. It was just wishful thinking on my part. I knew that there wasn't a chance in a million of getting a chemistry set. Rich's father was Superintendent of schools. My father was going to college on the G.I. Bill, and working for Jim, the Greek at his shoe repair shop. My mother was teaching school. I had been reminded many times that money was tight, and not to expect much.The whole household had been told many times over, about a chemistry set.
At the end of the block, we parted company with a few friendly snowballs thrown at each other.

My house was just a block from downtown and the Super Giant Supermarket. It stood on the corner across from the Methodist Church and Rogers Funeral Home. Next door was the home of a dentist. Between both houses was an old brick sided well with with lattice sides.

Our house was an old two story with a front porch, and in winter there was a small enclosure which was designed to help keep out the cold when the front door was opened. I thought it looked like a fishing shanty. Attached to the rear of the house was a long shed. It was one of those features you sometimes still see in houses in New England.This shed was meant to be a place for a horse, his feed and wagon, and wood for the kitchen stove.

Inside the house were some wonderful features. There were large double doors leading to a room which had once been the parlor. In the dining room there was a corner china cabinet, and behind a door in the wall was a dumb waiter. A dumb waiter was a small elevator which in the days before refrigeration, food could be sent down into the basement to be kept cool. A trap door in the dining room floor led down into the stone-walled basement. The kitchen had numerous cupboards.

A steep set of stairs led to several rooms above. My parents rented two of these rooms to two G.I. students. I thought it was odd that they slept on wood surplus army beds. The also used the single bathroom located off the kitchen, and they took their meals out. Friday nights however, there was always a gathering of these men and some of their friends. My mother would have baked a cake, and cards were played. It was then that I heard war stories and risqué jokes.

But now, getting back to the business of the chemistry set. My sister become sick and the doctor was called. I didn't understand what the doctor meant when he said that we would have to be quarantined. But I soon learned, when a man from the County Health Department arrived and tacked a red sign on the front door. It was Scarlet Fever. Not to be able to go out to see my friends! Missing school was no hardship. The absolute worst thing about being quarantined was that there was no way to get presents. How can you shop when you couldn't leave the house? This was the richest time of year for presents. Only recently I had visited the dump behind the "Gamble" store, and rescued two boats they couldn't use. The big plastic one needed a wind-up key, but pliers worked just fine. The other small boat made circuits around the bathtub powered by baking soda and vinegar.

The enforced isolation continued for some time, broken only by paper bags of groceries left outside the front door, and the arrival of the mail. I amused myself by putting Mike,our cat in the dumb waiter, and sending him up and down to the basement. When he escaped, I built frontier forts of Lincoln Logs, or played with lead soldiers.These I had cast into molds from a coffee can on the kitchen stove. The living room had a large book case and so I spent hours reading and listening to the radio. "Captain Midnight and the Secret Squadron" sent messages I could decode with the decoder my mother had sent for. The "Lone Ranger" was always exciting.

A Christmas tree was delivered and set up. My parents decided that it should be strung with blue lights. I disagreed, and would have preferred many colored lights. Once the tree was set up, I began to despair even more.

Then as it always does, it was Christmas eve. My parents belonged to the school that said it was alright to open presents on Christmas eve. I agreed totally! The wide wood doors were shut while Santa set about his work. After what seemed an eternity, the doors were swung open, and there under the blue lighted tree was a" Gilbert" metal,blue painted chemistry set! With a nod towards my sister's new doll, I began a minute investigation of the contents of the blue cabinet, with its many bottles and test tubes. It became a Christmas to remember. I learned years later that those two G.I. boarders had bought the chemistry set and my sister's doll.
              End
     Aloha and Mele Kalikimaka

             Grant