Aloha Oe: Seattle, Again

Molokai: One Alii Park

Five islands, three ferry trips, a handful of inter-island flights and two trans-Pacific flights later, we are back to a shockingly cold and dark Seattle. On three separate occasions, I did not buy an 800 dollar ukulele. I also did not buy a number of bone fishhooks, a shell lei, a timeshare, or a dozen coffee mugs with your made up Hawaiian name on it, I hope you’re not disappointed. I lost a tube of toothpaste and a bottle of sunscreen to the TSA, was pulled aside for “special” screening twice, and tossed out any number of half-finished beverages because I could not take them on the plane. I drank six or seven smoothies, only two of them were memorable. I ate a lot of fish, too many French fries, and a little too much ice cream. I bought a little dress with big yellow pineapples on it, two aloha shirts for J, a hat, some snacks, and a lot of high priced gasoline for the rental cars.

Today, for the first time in three and a half weeks, I am wearing long sleeves, pants, and a hat. A hat, for crying out loud. On the descent into Seattle the pilot mentioned that we were arriving just ahead of the forecasted snow. Tomorrow, I will wade through the mail, pay the bills, and set myself to writing a travel book about Hawaii. Crazy. It’s crazy because even after three and a half weeks rushing about, there is still a truckload of stuff I don’t know.

It was lovely. Too short, of course, and hardly a vacation. I’m worn out from all the rushing about, from all the looking at but not really experiencing. It was quite what I expected it to be, in some ways more, in some ways less.

I am sorry and glad to be home.

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