Treasure Hunting in Paradise
Got the film rolls back, get a loaf of these cute memories
We lived outside for 81 days.
No screens, no doors—certainly no need for windows. Just a roof overhead and every other amenity imaginable.
I know I had a lot to say about the realities of house-sitting and living in someone else’s space, but when Queen took off for her grand two-month trip, we were left to our own devices. We cleaned the place up, moved things around so we could flow throughout the kitchen and space and got to work enjoying ourselves.
Every walk through the property ended with pockets full of treasure: eggs, habaneros, oranges, lemons, limes, passionfruit, and papayas. We joked that we probably ate hundreds of dollars’ worth of citrus alone. Mornings started with fresh eggs and Shannon’s homemade bread. Afternoons called for passionfruit lemonade. Evenings were for elaborate meals, some of our favorites were: habanero-orange chicken with garden green onions, chicken shawarma with sourdough pitas and garlic sauce, battered fish tacos with tangy purple slaw and mango-passion-habanero salsa.
Sundays meant the farmers market—selling extra eggs, restocking produce, dreaming up the next dinner masterpiece. I settled into a rhythm: early mornings, stretching, movement, then coffee and computer work with the Hawaiian breeze drifting in.
From a journal entry, March 21:
“Yesterday while I was sitting in this same chair, the clothes line suddenly went taught and then released, ricocheting up and down spraying water with a huge crashing sound. My brain could not begin to comprehend what the hell just happened, everyone snapped to attention, including the old woman tenant in the small house in the back, Anna. We got up to see that a branch of coconuts had fallen from the sky landing on top of the clothes line and then launching off, flinging, crashing, bursting open, spraying coconut water everywhere. Anna says “I was just standing right there!” we all gaped in amazement at the burst of chaos. I have been rightfully wary of that coconut tree. Knowing that if you were in the wrong place during the wrong 2 second glitch in time, the consequences could be fatal. I remember my days in Myanmar with the resident coconut victim in my town, lucky to be alive but suffering from permanent brain damage.
We have a front row seat to nature right here in our temporary living space. Big rain storms mist us while sitting on the couch. The ocean breeze comes through every afternoon. Unwillingly we share it with a rat or two, a quick witted mouse, bright green little geckos, mosquitos, flies, brightly colored little birds, and a whole ass other person who silently lives in a small studio space on the other side of the wall. We like it interesting, we like the smell of the Pua Kenikeni flower tree when it rains and watching the chickens run for cover, we love how the birds flit about the property, the pigs strolling by the front gate. A pretty good reminder that life happens whether you are watching or not. A reminder that all we have is the day. The present moment. To be lost somewhere else is to miss out on the one thing you can participate in.”
A few times per week we sprinkled in happy hours at the cliffs by the sea, a hike to the beach to swim with turtles, the magical waterfalls with perfect cool water swimming holes, or the muscle soothing thermal pools on the eastern coast. Whenever we had the itch we would head into Hilo for some thrift shopping, evening markets or a local dive bar.
It was nothing short of paradise. Of course it came with challenges and lots of problem solving, we never knew if our day would start with rat murder or end with a beetle infestation. We hopped around in the evenings as the rogue mosquitos munched on our ankles. But, when we cuddled up on the couch with the pup and pulled up the giant TV with surround sound to watch our favorite shows before we settled into bed, we were grateful for the space. Grateful for the special volcano actively giving birth to a paradise 2500 miles from anything
.
LOVEEEEEEE