We started the week with Austin going to Suva and taking this little harvest of “Masi” plant with him. I was shocked at how tall the plants look when harvested – 12 or 14 feet long! . He was taking these to a friend in Suva who is planning to pound the core out into masi cloth. I’ve never seen this done, and with masi growing here – I really need to learn.
Here is an old photo of the plant growing.
And here is an old shot of some beautiful masi cloth (which has been decorated – the masi itself comes out creamy white).
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– What’s good around the farm this week, Honey?
– Show them the macadamia nuts on the tree.
ONE nut. That’s all I could find. One nut against our gray sky.
But here is a bowl of them on Austin’s dresser. Those are the big ones that he is planning to put into a nursery and transplant into an orchard he will create. We haven’t eaten any of the macadamia nuts yet – the shells are super hard and we haven’t actually figured out how to get into them without pulverizing the middle. I haven’t actually tried yet. (Truth is, I don’t like macadamia nuts all that much. Shhhhh – don’t tell, Austin. He might be disappointed.)
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The blessed gray sky made the last day more tolerable (the sun is fierce), but I feel very sad for friends in Vanuatu who are about to get creamed by the currently brewing hurricane. There was a chance that big wind was coming our way, so Austin and Junia have already started the season’s storm prep. One of the first items of business is trimming the fences posts. Living fence is CHEAP – you get a good and permanent fence for the cost of barbed wire only – but it keeps growing and when a strong wind comes, it can pull the fence tree right out of the ground. We learned that during a banana typhoon a few years ago.
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I was hanging out in town waiting for a family member to finish shopping, and sat here by the Sigatoka River. Shady, peaceful and pretty.
Then I noticed the boat. One small boat. With a roof! It brought back memories of living in Chuuk Lagoon a couple of decades ago. The “road” was (and I’m sure still is) the water. Forty-five minutes from Tol (where we lived) to Moen (where the stores are) by motorboat. Three hours by putt-putt, a slow diesel boat with a roof. The dock in Moen was always crowded with little boats. Boats tied to other boats, sometimes four or six boats deep. I’m feeling nostalgic.
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Finally a friend who limped onto my diary last night. This is how he showed up – I have no idea what happened to 33% of his legs, or how he managed to walk as well as he did.
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