Dog Eaters

This is starting to work

Posted on 05.30.14 under aquaponics


The pesto from this basil the the macadamia nuts was amazing!

In the morning, the cilantro glistens with oils — never tasted cilantro so juicy.


Tilapia are breeding. That’s Bryson with the net. Kathryn’s filling the feeders.

And on land…

Pulled the lower mala. Rototilled, then covered with cardboard and wood chips. Will let this lay fallow for at least 3 months, maybe longer…

Next generation glass poi pounders

Posted on 05.25.14 under Uncategorized

Big omole without being too heavy. The secret? Air inclusion.


These are extremely functional, both pounding and the cleanup afterwards. Making a small batch of pa’iai is just as fast as cooking rice.

Yes, there are bananas…

Posted on 05.22.14 under Uncategorized


This Dolly Parton-sized rack must have weighed 100 lbs.

Lamont knows that all is fair in war

Posted on 05.15.14 under Black Dog Clan, Dog Eaters

Now he will be told what is unfair in love.

Lamont can try to make his own laws in love, but will he keep them? And who will break them?

Sometimes memories get scrambled

Posted on 05.07.14 under departed friends

I heard that an old friend died today.

I last saw him 25 years ago at his ex-wife’s house in Kailua. He was driving a leased black Mustang. The new girlfriend stayed in the car.

I remember an extravagant Kobe steak dinner he treated me to in Kyoto when he was living high on the hog — but on credit. He had taken a crazy jump from a cozy tenured position as an art teacher to start up a windsurfing company that never got off the ground. He told me going public was like printing money. Boy was I impressed. He was going from printing lithographs and intaglio to dollar bills. He was our teacher. I didn’t understand what money was back then. I know better now. We all do…

He ended up an alcoholic who robbed a bank in downtown Honolulu and then went to a bar a block away on Hotel Street to get a drink. When the TV behind the bartender showed the surveillance camera photo of him at the teller, he was busted.

He must have wanted to get caught.

At least that’s what I remember. Jumbled conversations that might be true. Uncertain contextual misunderstandings, outright lies. His heart’s desire an ambition that was 50% illusion, 50% macho bluff — a perfectly crazy dream.

Russell, I choose to remember you as you were before, when you were golden. RIP…

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