Just at the beach with friends yo.

You saw it as an Insta first and here, second. Now go find it for yourself in Wailuku. Third time’s the charm.

I never thought I was a cat person (blame that on Mom for not allowing pets), but then there’s this cat. She acts like a dog, she thinks she belongs here and she makes herself at home. She even walks into our home. Her real name is Vicky and she came from our neighbor. They didn’t neglect her, she just decided she liked our Grandma better.

No one knows for sure but she has to be somewhere between 12-15 years old. She’s had litters of babies, got into a dog fight, and survived jaw surgery. She’s brought us many “gifts” with feathers and tails too. Vicky fits the description of the ladies that live in this house. Independent and tough bitches that do what they want. Her old age has turned her into an inside/outside cat and if that’s what the Queen wants, that’s what the Queen gets.

Soon the sugar cane will disappear, so any photo op with them is going to be a photo op taken. These fields mean a lot to me and it goes way past just the sugar industry.

Thanks to Claire for wanting to adventure in our own home. We went up for the goats and came down for the vodka.

Actually, not that sweet, at first. Just like going to Grandma’s, going to Uncle’s you never leave empty handed. “Go make lemonade,” he said, washing bunches of lemon and putting them in a plastic bag for us to take home. So I did.  Under the direction of my oldest boss, G-Flo, I made lemonade. Five lemons later, I had more than enough juice for a pitcher of lemonade. G-Flo commented, “I think that’s a lot of juice for that small pitcher. Needs plenty water you know.” Eye roll. She’s the boss for a reason and always thinks her way is the right way. The first taste was sour, like really sour. A spoonful of sugar later it was still sour. Another spoonful didn’t make much of a difference. “How does it taste? Still sour yeah?” She asked, and I lied. “It’s perfect!” The truth was, it probably needed more water but no way was I going to admit that to G-Flo. I just poured myself a glass, drinking my sour juice which was perfect for my slightly sour attitude.

Bringing home these lemons from Uncle’s house was a treat and making lemonade with G-Flo–priceless. My new location comes with a lot of commentary and critique but I can’t complain. I came home for this and even after days of sour lemonade, it’s always pretty sweet.

Tomatoes from the same bunch seen here, only this time they quadrupled. This tomato squad is gonna look good in salads all week. Living that #fitlife or as Maui Mike said, “eat salad you going live long time.”

When the vog got you down, nothing like a colorful drink to reverse that frown.