tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58117828032322568472024-03-19T01:00:35.746-10:00Plain JaneElliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.comBlogger137125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-35252815371402392572015-08-01T15:55:00.001-10:002015-08-01T15:56:38.138-10:00Ehukai PillboxesAfter the last hike, which was deemed an "in-complete" due to the heavy rain, I was wanting to get out again. The weather had been tolerable and sunny skies were forecast for the weekend. Some old classmates of mine had told me about another pillbox hike that also boasted some great ocean views. Saturday morning we all piled into my car and drove out to North Shore. I surprised them by sharing that it was the first time I've ever been North Shore. They were excited and played tour guides for me the entire adventure. Once we got out of the city hustle, the open spaces and stretching pineapple fields were a welcome sight. I could also tell we were approaching country, as cars disappeared into jacked up trucks and muddy SUV's. Surfboard racks, faded coolers, and poi dogs barking in beds of passing trucks all made my heart warm and fuzzy inside. <br />
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Pulling in Sunset Elementary School, we parked and geared up for the hike. Mostly covered with trees, we started up the hill. To our chagrin, we had to take several breaks to wildly inhale the oxygen we needed. We agreed that school is only good for working our brains and not our other muscles. Pine trees which first dotted out hike, gave way to a large forest. The gentle breeze could be heard playing with the slender needles. The calming whistling reminded me of my childhood and days spent playing underneath the Waimea pines. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Talking story on top the cement pillbox </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the Graffiti Studded Chamber </td></tr>
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Before we knew it, we were at the first pillbox. The effort it took to get there was well rewarded as the view was just stunning. We climbed down and went into the pillbox. I spent some time looking over the different artsy messages and drawings by the diverse graffitists. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Piecing together artful thoughts </td></tr>
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Even though I was as happy as a clam with this pillbox, my friends said the view was nothing like what the second pillbox had to offer. Of course what could be more tantalizing then a better view....and knowingly trespassing!!! As we all looked at the foreboding message on the dilapidated metal sign posted to a tree, the well worn path invited us onward. It took just a short 10 minutes down another hill before a small clearing opened up. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset Beach, North Shore</td></tr>
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It was simply breath-taking as I could see all the way from Ka'ena Point to Kawela Bay. We sat there for a while, eating snacks and absorbing the view. My friends shared with me landmarks as we watched the waves come in. Surfers dotted the shoreline and we spotted some catching the waves. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 3 Musketeers</td></tr>
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While perched on the top, we decided on lunch and were to go for a swim. Before saying goodbye to Ehukai Pillboxes, I did the obligatory jump shot. <br />
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We ended the days adventure by grabbing some ono grinds at a local food truck. After filling our empty bellies, the girls decided to show me Oahu's Waimea Bay. Although we were ready for a dunk in the refreshing water, the surf was high. Signed posted all along the beach along with random loud-speaker life guard comments stayed us from entering the turbulent waters. Of course that didn't dampen the fun we had soaking up the sun and giggling about life. <br />
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Surrounded by lovely sights and awesome friends, this hike reminded me of how blessed I am.</div>
Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-60289987987344889502015-06-21T14:00:00.000-10:002015-08-01T15:56:50.720-10:00Lanikai PillboxesSo after seeing some waterfalls, the next hike on the list was a ridge hike. I got my friend to pause her studying for the day and come join me and the church group. Driving through the Pali Tunnels we were hit with some heavy fast-moving rain. I looked at my friend and we both had the same thought, maybe todays not a good ridge hike day. But we pressed one with hopes of clearer weather on the other side of the island. We reached the parking area and walked the short distance to the hike start. When the other ladies joined us, there was talk of cancelling due to possible rain. My hope was still high and we decided to try it out since we were already there. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New shoes meet old dirt</td></tr>
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I had read reviews of this hike and all mentioned the "cardiac hill" that you get to almost immediately. We were huffing and puffing and sweating up a storm on the barren and dusty "hill". Loose dirt and lack of stable bushes made it hard at points. Good thing my new shoes had the traction they did. My friend was doing well in her slippers (but then again, she's a pro). Once over that, the hill leveled out to a more "easier incline". Don't get me wrong, it was still an incline, just not one that would blow the arteries in my neck. About half way up, the clouds were still blocking much of the sunshine and the smell of rain was in the air. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the beginning of the ocean side rain clouds</td></tr>
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My friend and I scuttled up to the first pillbox just as large raindrops started to blow in the wind. The rest of the group decided not to brave the rest of the hike and had turned around at the half way point. Well, the rain was coming in faster and harder, but it felt good to just admire the view and let our pounding hearts subside. As we rested and hid from the rain, we pointed out landmarks and named the ones we knew. <br />
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After sitting for 5 minutes, I decided to look around the pillbox and see what the cloud pattern was forecasting. To my horror, those fast moving clouds that we had come across driving over were pressing in and showed no sign of withdrawal. The ocean was partially blocked out by dark rain clouds as well. Because this was a bare ridge hike, wind and rain can play a huge part in safely ascending and descending.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moku Nui and Moku Iki</td></tr>
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I turned to my friend, and the fear in both our eyes told us our joy ride was at its end. We quickly shoved our phones into the driest parts of our backpacks, and picked our way down. Within a very short time, rivers of muddy water ran between and around our feet. Wind and rain blasted on us from all sides and soon we were wet. About the halfway point, our hair was completely soaked and we were having a challenging time getting down the hill. <br />
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When we got back to cardiac hill I had a terrifying thought that we could easily sprain our ankles. With little to no shrubs to grasp onto, waterfalls of mud now enveloped the once dry hill we climbed. A hiker in front of us directed us to go to the far side in order not to slip as much. Just as I made my way over, I completely lost my balance and slipped. It was like a slow-motion of skating on all fours. Thankfully my hands and feet were able to keep the rest of my body off the ground. I sighed a bit of relief as I looked at my cut hand. At least I didn't have a muddy butt! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">short but sweet moment</td></tr>
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Even though we should have been terrified the entire way down, both me and my friend wished that we had a go-pro attached to us to film this great feat. We laughed at how our siblings think of us at "boring". Ha! We were pushing the envelope on crazy and deadly and we loved it! We were almost at the bottom as screeching and giggling rang from our open mouths. There was just a mud filled blacktop when we exited the hike, as all the mountain seemed to be pouring out onto the street. Running to my car we were in ankle deep water. I quickly grabbed a few handy beach towels from my trunk, took off my soaking shoes and jumped into the car. When we finally got our breath back, we looked at each other with wide eyes. "That was fun!" We checked our phones and tried to dry them off. <br />
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Since we were not able to reach the other pillboxes, we felt a bit gypped from the hike. Looking like drowned rats, we put on a motely array of dry clothes I had in my car and headed into town. Searching for a coffee shop offering warmth and shelter from the continuing downpour, we found a cute place tucked away in a small strip mall. After getting our drinks we decided to head back home.....the scenic way. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Makapu'u Tidepools, Waimanalo </td></tr>
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Driving past Waimanalo, I felt like I had been transported back home. From the jacked up trucks to the old single wall houses, everything breathed simplicity and comfort above all. Compared to the nearby city of Honolulu, the quiet town of Waimanalo seemed unscathed by the busyness over the mountains. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjihaprcnj1iAuhzbjcG1vI0gCNhJvrlrY26kjlHwIsUk2V9fCc3CNhjN49TlC_Bt828o9PFINFmFT8ZheYszbgCG40RLvu0jZIL-og6QaK247ZSGr0Z5zefIEzV7C2QzR4J7eWNAJqkgUO/s1600/20150228_103258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjihaprcnj1iAuhzbjcG1vI0gCNhJvrlrY26kjlHwIsUk2V9fCc3CNhjN49TlC_Bt828o9PFINFmFT8ZheYszbgCG40RLvu0jZIL-og6QaK247ZSGr0Z5zefIEzV7C2QzR4J7eWNAJqkgUO/s320/20150228_103258.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">lava rocks are my friends</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The sun was peaking out the of the clouds more as the day progressed and we went further away from the Lanikai area. We pulled over and stuck out toes in the water by the Makapu'u area. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwkOmxgGg4GXh9LOGPmJXfw5AQrEBO_rshnd6AVuxM1kTbB1nPjqzrxGLWr97AaBHzsyjiXPetf1SePT1W3OCMASSsnvn7TyYpVZapmX5-NbXVUbeDYlr2ezxrgqx628GDv31PA7JJm_6/s1600/20150228_104235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwkOmxgGg4GXh9LOGPmJXfw5AQrEBO_rshnd6AVuxM1kTbB1nPjqzrxGLWr97AaBHzsyjiXPetf1SePT1W3OCMASSsnvn7TyYpVZapmX5-NbXVUbeDYlr2ezxrgqx628GDv31PA7JJm_6/s320/20150228_104235.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rabbit Island and Kaohikaipu Island</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We continued our journey around to Sandy's Beach where we jumped in for a quick swim. Obviously, I feel that this hike was not completed as we only made it to the first pillbox. Pictures were also lacking as, well, I was trying to live and not kill my phone with water. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4NhuppdztU4kqaPGrthYeeT-NtWU7qbclKjqU-vKPRxM40_lFMy1Rlld0-tGZEDB56OIJDTtrMBE_sAb0L2y1wwDKnKoeMtpXAacmmmmcl-pxQvrVpMA4JKrsJybRWTeHebu3Pi9R2zc1/s1600/20150228_105901.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4NhuppdztU4kqaPGrthYeeT-NtWU7qbclKjqU-vKPRxM40_lFMy1Rlld0-tGZEDB56OIJDTtrMBE_sAb0L2y1wwDKnKoeMtpXAacmmmmcl-pxQvrVpMA4JKrsJybRWTeHebu3Pi9R2zc1/s320/20150228_105901.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Until I am able to try again, memories of this adventure rapturously play back in my head. If I'm going to fall, I'd most enjoy falling while laughing. Lanikai Pillboxes, we shall meet again!Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-81241603996273084822015-06-14T14:18:00.002-10:002015-06-14T14:26:48.347-10:00Lulumahu Fall's<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLpmFNKxsEoDzHIOr8Ze7gMdBf9eOnrRImVd7umSrLHLjyKQ9cf5nhyzetPGXzobUaqWWxoJjJgz4RKbHwvecT9_rBKIqLzg-6KoMrW66MWbAxijqAolmuTGuyyZGGvJ2298Tnhit-x1O8/s1600/20150207_082335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLpmFNKxsEoDzHIOr8Ze7gMdBf9eOnrRImVd7umSrLHLjyKQ9cf5nhyzetPGXzobUaqWWxoJjJgz4RKbHwvecT9_rBKIqLzg-6KoMrW66MWbAxijqAolmuTGuyyZGGvJ2298Tnhit-x1O8/s400/20150207_082335.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
My adventure appetite had tasted the goodness of hiking,
and I was itching to explore a new place. Hearing that the next hike also
featured a grand waterfall, I was all in. The morning of the hike found me
tired from a previous day at school. I almost called it off but my better
judgment pulled me from my warm covers. Driving up Pali Highway was so
gorgeous as the morning sun fingered through mountain peaks. I got to the turn
off right as some of the other ladies pulled up. Donning my newly purchased hiking
boots, I scrunched up my nose to the bug repellent spray in the air.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8z4WqmhNhBBTcLS7VKWikRXz83VUWCrRDsqQkr7RhM__S0RE0q53B9BhNF8ZmTDVQkIjI5bmPKB33XeGjNf42gwg-wHQtgVxcLSoLpPuxqySmvPpdElac__645OCF64y5mV2sL5zGfzjG/s1600/20150519_091749.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8z4WqmhNhBBTcLS7VKWikRXz83VUWCrRDsqQkr7RhM__S0RE0q53B9BhNF8ZmTDVQkIjI5bmPKB33XeGjNf42gwg-wHQtgVxcLSoLpPuxqySmvPpdElac__645OCF64y5mV2sL5zGfzjG/s400/20150519_091749.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
The hike started with a walk through some bamboo forests.
There is a soothing and yet eerie sound of the wind moving in a grove of
bamboo. Future photo shoot possibilities tucked their way in my mind as we walk
on. I had read reviews of the dangers of getting lost on this part of the
trail (good thing the path we took was well trodden and marked brightly with
tape). <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPn2wVRe_TOvh2WCxcMvqd-7hiDcoXrAkv-btBMgBstiE_RsNkckLAYg3e5Xz-zOTmpN2Yt33fQtXTnX6_xVjbyWToOrk5WDfdhQNNwvC8DNWhnCjQI11_HL9LMcKjhqbe46NrYJC9xFdv/s1600/20150519_091741.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPn2wVRe_TOvh2WCxcMvqd-7hiDcoXrAkv-btBMgBstiE_RsNkckLAYg3e5Xz-zOTmpN2Yt33fQtXTnX6_xVjbyWToOrk5WDfdhQNNwvC8DNWhnCjQI11_HL9LMcKjhqbe46NrYJC9xFdv/s400/20150519_091741.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
All of a sudden we stepped through the forest into an
open grassy clearing. The views were simply magnificent from this spot and one
could easily think this was the end of the hike. Picnic ideas floated through
my mind as I stood absorbing the moment. From the picturesque mountains
flanking each side to the lake in the middle, any way I turned was picture
perfect. Some have described this area as from a scene in “The Sound of Music”.
I couldn’t agree with them more as I was dying to belt out some song. I could
have taken an entire morning just to sit there, but alas, there was still a
hike to accomplish!<br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW1cJEUd5hpZU3KpFyMVMamnpyRaVl9rl_R3D0ZXVQVWY7Da6XPQTGArNysv9sF39ec9VlZUz8X-YJFui2zQIcDhqjUO4_2lg5TwSANNmU4_-1nY6YvrWGhSzGTyMYXOmE0MdRyuFap86k/s1600/20150207_103750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW1cJEUd5hpZU3KpFyMVMamnpyRaVl9rl_R3D0ZXVQVWY7Da6XPQTGArNysv9sF39ec9VlZUz8X-YJFui2zQIcDhqjUO4_2lg5TwSANNmU4_-1nY6YvrWGhSzGTyMYXOmE0MdRyuFap86k/s400/20150207_103750.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1N1xkBRx_AqmrnzBBH8pPc5Os-NbZLZTG6-55NS0bfh_k8iHJJvRnWZ5sNF7GkUfdzClVdyPAc2csVA-bJXbjpJfiXXeLInMat7508x95B6TX_J0Oh0Edhvs2HCpUZQTYaZM8UaaQqKbW/s1600/20150207_103625.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1N1xkBRx_AqmrnzBBH8pPc5Os-NbZLZTG6-55NS0bfh_k8iHJJvRnWZ5sNF7GkUfdzClVdyPAc2csVA-bJXbjpJfiXXeLInMat7508x95B6TX_J0Oh0Edhvs2HCpUZQTYaZM8UaaQqKbW/s400/20150207_103625.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the lake is seen in the left of this picture</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Back into a thickly covered path, the sun’s rays had
disappeared into a gently morning glow. A short way in, we came to a narrow
rock path with a sheer drop on one side. A river (coming from the waterfall)
cascaded down and past us. We gingerly walked in single file to the end of the
walkway. What awaited us there was a bit of rock skipping to the other side of
the bank. It was amusing to see which of the hikers cared or didn’t care to get
their sneakers and tennis shoes wet. I scrambled over the slippery river rocks
and made it safely to the other side dry. From there we picked our way parallel
to the bank, always keeping it within our sight. Several people have gotten
fairly lost on this hike due to its many “paths”, but as we found out, if you
keep close to the bank’s edge there is no way to get lost from the waterfall. <o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivSSea3bEhqdt5ynJzLH8YJwovnYSZMDOi5jFWTmw0uWrUHQiTmCQSUvon7C6jG7ipGnvu1nRyMOtZQFkKtoNZF0VxAdeMtYGQJmnvOU1eZFfVGxtVafXLEok16fbPVzSmf1y5canHlY0l/s1600/20150207_103345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivSSea3bEhqdt5ynJzLH8YJwovnYSZMDOi5jFWTmw0uWrUHQiTmCQSUvon7C6jG7ipGnvu1nRyMOtZQFkKtoNZF0VxAdeMtYGQJmnvOU1eZFfVGxtVafXLEok16fbPVzSmf1y5canHlY0l/s400/20150207_103345.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A little graffiti to brighten the cement</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Even though there was an incline, I found that it was
easy for me. Having to pick our way through dense brush also helped to slow our
time (and give me pseudo-breaks). I was glad that I had bought some real hiking
books with traction as many parts were muddy. Roots and fallen trees keep us
looking down almost constantly. Sounds of nature still tickled my ears and I
smiled with the new chirps and calls I heard overhead. <br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I could sense that we were getting close as we came to an
area with big boulders. The water trickled down and formed little waterfalls
into a small area below. Climbing over the boulders, the familiar sound of
rushing water filled our ears. Bits and pieces of the waterfall could be seen
as we made the last turn and incline. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQNUWx3-PikbPYD54QBpoMGrUU3GblPJsgoeg4gcsTnR83ae6UAmE3GlbUCSpfE3zQd2eR1DCHwWZvz-yZTL8HIDOpda59RvNsYymEJMaEjB5KPJQxWs1bmpaDc-l2lmdZ1z-1KPyC_yVT/s1600/20150207_094552.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQNUWx3-PikbPYD54QBpoMGrUU3GblPJsgoeg4gcsTnR83ae6UAmE3GlbUCSpfE3zQd2eR1DCHwWZvz-yZTL8HIDOpda59RvNsYymEJMaEjB5KPJQxWs1bmpaDc-l2lmdZ1z-1KPyC_yVT/s400/20150207_094552.jpg" width="300" /></a>And there is way in all its glory. Lulumahu Falls was
majestic and thundering. With a total of 3 falls (2 small at the top were hard
to picture with the morning glare), this waterfall was pretty darn sweet. The
pool at the bottom was bigger than the base of Hamama Falls, but still only
knee deep in places. We sat around taking pictures, smiling and congratulating
ourselves on our accomplishment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgLa8tYHsIUydotPKg0KD0NK2mXkdUZHMBqIof9OLxXU0gVbCSfzpPUFgFRzk7dIEPzeNjJAp5FIJ0m67JMHV-du0-i_bp8YEP1Wbniv7WLGlwxbsWSKulwZET1WY8b2P4dPlNZKF5EZDO/s1600/20150207_093104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgLa8tYHsIUydotPKg0KD0NK2mXkdUZHMBqIof9OLxXU0gVbCSfzpPUFgFRzk7dIEPzeNjJAp5FIJ0m67JMHV-du0-i_bp8YEP1Wbniv7WLGlwxbsWSKulwZET1WY8b2P4dPlNZKF5EZDO/s400/20150207_093104.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, that little person is me</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-44267959674307279052015-06-07T14:27:00.002-10:002015-06-07T14:27:51.792-10:00Hamama Fall's<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg70RYq165V0m5Q5ftsA4_j8eZeQabEMDzeaRXqyiFqDkbi4WPg69LN3bvn7TCzTxOMEY3zxtU_v8c96wuJ5Talo-3tJNX7ZCWdN3JSf-e7C3ioyatksvtEpCpffuDYKa3WyoapdSc9ZxNd/s1600/20150124_091505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg70RYq165V0m5Q5ftsA4_j8eZeQabEMDzeaRXqyiFqDkbi4WPg69LN3bvn7TCzTxOMEY3zxtU_v8c96wuJ5Talo-3tJNX7ZCWdN3JSf-e7C3ioyatksvtEpCpffuDYKa3WyoapdSc9ZxNd/s400/20150124_091505.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ko'olau Ridgeline</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My first hike on O'ahu was breathtaking in more ways then one. Having been quite deep in school and homework, my lungs felt like pressed flowers. I needed to venture from my little 9x10 room and feel good. I convinced my friend to also come with me on this first endeavor into the wild woods of Kaneohe. Getting a little bit turned around in our 30 min drive to the country, we giggled, talked, and left all of our troubles in the city. <br />
<br />
Meeting up with the group of ladies was refreshing as we started our hike with prayer. We passed through forests, walked over small bridges, and soaked up the quiet morning around us. New sounds tickled my ears as I listened to the birds chirp and sing. Different shades of green blended together against a bright blue sky dotted with puffy ivory clouds.<br />
<br />
About half way up the hike, fast moving clouds had limiting the blue skies. Often on that side of the island, morning showers frequent the mountains and valleys. My rapid breathing told me that I was in less shape then I should be. Talking became a bit more challenging as the incline increased. <br />
<br />
Then I heard it, like a low flying airplane, a rushing roaring wonderful sound. Making the last bend, I could see the glimmer of water cascading down a lush green and black cliff. We had reached the magnificent Hamama Fall's. The freezing water rolled down and splashed in the small pool formed below. Even the air was cooler and the breeze wicked at my face.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgVJxIFpOTqUw0XomwiSgIg8oAMwrFxYbLhQEMuQnG4FNxunGrfTT4je11xbC547rjR58wfIvCgPYfbgIHN7qva7Y6H8a412gb-PVc5-es5ZRf94ln1AZiMCbOtjksk2cIgbKHbIalcv2o/s1600/20150124_092810.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgVJxIFpOTqUw0XomwiSgIg8oAMwrFxYbLhQEMuQnG4FNxunGrfTT4je11xbC547rjR58wfIvCgPYfbgIHN7qva7Y6H8a412gb-PVc5-es5ZRf94ln1AZiMCbOtjksk2cIgbKHbIalcv2o/s400/20150124_092810.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hamama Fall</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Camera's, grinning faces, and accomplishment could be heard, seen, and felt by our little group. After getting photos, some of the ladies decided to brave the cold and submerge themselves in the chilly falls.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxu79HgeIH2-hnqel42IXlZyD3VPrY5CgXA3P5MqHAwRXBhBcpFKzrQUwfNrWvjJFsnmwFaKIQUBUSiRZ1iSVbr93Z3bbk2dfmWyM7vB4a0KqzXWbuXBgmKtNeh-N59bdCUOghb4iYnQXX/s1600/20150124_085227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxu79HgeIH2-hnqel42IXlZyD3VPrY5CgXA3P5MqHAwRXBhBcpFKzrQUwfNrWvjJFsnmwFaKIQUBUSiRZ1iSVbr93Z3bbk2dfmWyM7vB4a0KqzXWbuXBgmKtNeh-N59bdCUOghb4iYnQXX/s320/20150124_085227.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFc9d4GG1kSHzJMyF0hPlUD9Cpl3cISgsLYPdxA9drz9rQTYTL_FQrJ7Ybys3Et0pnNEagDnCYiFRwawKXwtP56oSLJOBmdH07On0jf0_WquAB6LjnOFiWBVqD0tuy7S6iwMA0-Pag4JCu/s1600/20150124_093902%25280%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFc9d4GG1kSHzJMyF0hPlUD9Cpl3cISgsLYPdxA9drz9rQTYTL_FQrJ7Ybys3Et0pnNEagDnCYiFRwawKXwtP56oSLJOBmdH07On0jf0_WquAB6LjnOFiWBVqD0tuy7S6iwMA0-Pag4JCu/s320/20150124_093902%25280%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
As we backtracked down the hill, I had a smile from ear to ear. My friend and I had decided to jump into a large pool near the beginning of the hike. Though our heart rates had greatly decreased, we still were quiet warm. Jumping into the cold water was a refreshing way to end the first O'ahu hike. <br />
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Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-10162087099787587212015-05-31T23:04:00.001-10:002015-06-14T14:24:45.712-10:00Absent is what my writting was. One thing I've learned in the past 2 years of living in over 6 places, I must appreciate whatever and where ever I am. If the beach is just a 5 min walk from my bedroom, then I should do midnight swims, dinner at the beach, and relax in the sound of the waves. If I have an ever changing flux of foreign housemates, I should "visit" these countries by talking with them. And if I have 4 lilikoi vines(passion fruit) at my disposal, I should be eating, juicing, and canning them! <br />
<br />
When I moved to O'ahu this January, I wanted so much for it to be a positive experience. I guess it also helped that I would be here for over a year. Settling in was a must if I was going to survive and thrive. I'd come to a frame of mind similar to the saying, "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade." See, in my limited mind, I really thought the Big Island was the only island I would ever wish to live. Hence, making lemonade out of living here was more of how I envisioned my time on O'ahu. Upon getting here (O'ahu) I earnestly looked for opportunities to be content where I was at, as wishful thinking of home (the Big Island) only made for sour attitudes and defeat long before any battle. One way I decided was to get out and about; learn about the island not just known for it's capital city Honolulu. <br />
<br />
Interestingly enough, sometimes its the very thing you are afraid of that becomes your biggest love. Adventure, though it runs in my blood somewhere, is often tucked away for my fear of the unknown. Before this year started, I would have hesitated greatly at the thought of exploring a new place. Yet, as I stepped off the familiar runway at Honolulu airport, I decided that change was in the air. I was bound and determined to play tourist and see the beauty in what surrounded me. <br />
<br />
While I was still on the Big Island, several people I knew had invited me to hike with them. Fortunately for my timid self, it never happened to work out to go on any of them. I sighed a bit of relief each time plans fell through, but in the same breath criticized myself for being so cowardly. It's not that I technically fear hiking or the outdoors, just that I am always hesitant to try something new. You know, that adventure blood is pretty scarce in my veins. <br />
<br />
So what would it take to change my mind? It came in the answer of my new found church home. Ladies hikes were planned and announced the first Sunday I went there. I swallowed my fear, grabbed the announcement handout, and decided that I was going to go on as many hikes as I possibly could.<br />
<br />
The first hike I did was to a waterfall. It was a relatively short distance with some incline at the end. Being in God's nature was soothing to my soul and city-crazed mind. It reminded me of home, but not with sadness. It was a gentle nudge that I was not lost in a new place, I was simply embracing an extended family member. Meeting other ladies was also encouraging to me. <br />
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And so it happened without much ado and without much notice, over the next few weeks and months I had found a new exhilarating thing to do. Hiking. In fact during the past 5 months, I have gone on 8 different hikes and have repeated some of them too!<br />
<br />
I write this all, not to applaud myself, but to preface what will follow. To break my writing silence, I am endeavoring to take you along with me as I hike, explore, and fall in love with the island of O'ahu. Hello world, my name is Ellie and I like to hike. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://elliethatcher.blogspot.com/2015/06/lulumahu-falls.html" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7hyG74m7wxJtvoiE0TkwZNRMk8OyPLSAvYHrGrg4g-vdnsKhLt9B7noggEC3Qsr2-2OCzoCLzq39Zo7WRcdD95oMi8fDEasBvAhzAQPFD04ySDoFAgWETh3knoxYCQgY9Rrurdpos9Wyc/s400/20150207_103612.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://elliethatcher.blogspot.com/2015/06/lulumahu-falls.html" target="_blank">Adventure awaits!</a><br />
(click to see this hike)</td></tr>
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Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-83099969951978157532014-05-10T21:06:00.000-10:002014-05-10T21:17:47.591-10:00Finding Passion in the Fading Light<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span>The stagnant smells of soiled linens, body odor, and assorted
chemical cleaners filled my nose as I walked through the sliding doors. Why was
my mom making me go here? My whole body revolted at the thought of staying here
any longer. I wanted to run back to the safety of the car and try to forget
this place. The dreary building had been ominous from the outside but there was
nothing I could do besides follow my mother. The lobby was painted a creamy-yellow,
probably in hopes of cheering visitors as they came and went. I thought it was
a way to distract anyone from the thoughts of running out. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There
was a large saltwater fish tank to the right. I examined the fish darting through
the water; they looked terrified, dashing in and out of the rocks. Directly in front
of us stood a desk where a receptionist looked up as we approached. “Good
afternoon, how can I help you?” the lady said to us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Holding
my squirming brother in one arm, my mom quickly asked the receptionist, “Do you
know where room 145 is?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWnQJ8k7CJstjvOTXQBzfjDHchb66NKQKC-6DUAIS4WjFcDPPve4E8A20pwWvv9vIE2M7ewRQ1NsqfMAvub8RLxW03N6lu-twfZVY_3e00ydaNkerIoSyi-z8FZ2sH5HgLF9dZM8hw7S5W/s1600/IMG_6298e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWnQJ8k7CJstjvOTXQBzfjDHchb66NKQKC-6DUAIS4WjFcDPPve4E8A20pwWvv9vIE2M7ewRQ1NsqfMAvub8RLxW03N6lu-twfZVY_3e00ydaNkerIoSyi-z8FZ2sH5HgLF9dZM8hw7S5W/s1600/IMG_6298e.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Volcano National Park</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The lady
replied, “Right down this hall,” as she pointed to a dimly-lit hallway to our
left. “The room will be on the right side,” she finished. My mother nodded her
head and started walking in that direction. I wanted to stop my mother. I
wanted to leave, not continue! But necessity eventually won over my stubborn
body as I hurried to catch up with her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
we passed by each numbered door, I took a peek inside the room if the door was
open. Because of the closed blinds, I could only make out shadowed beds and
linens in the cube-like chambers. I wondered but could not comprehend why all
the blinds and windows were secured shut. It was a beautiful day out; did no one
what to see the blue sky and soft wispy clouds? I could hear televisions playing,
trying to drown out the feelings of loneliness and despair, but to no avail as
an ill mood had crept in and had made its home here. Numbered and stacked like
lifeless dominos in a row, the rooms each had the same bleak feeling and
depressing gloom that emanated from this place. I felt my chest tense; this
place, these rooms, were all so confining. I was breathing something into my
lungs but it was not air; it was death. My mind and body begged me to leave
this place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Absorbed
in my thoughts, I almost ran into my mom who had stopped suddenly to glance at
the room number; it was 145. Rounding the corner, I saw Uncle Bobby laying
there, his face looking up at the blank white ceiling. His once attentive brown
eyes were glazed over and emotionless. The most recent stroke had accentuated
his already paralyzed face, making his left eye and lips droop pitifully. Like a
door swings freely on a dilapidated house, his mouth now hung completely open
with little muscle tone. Framing his wrinkled chin, the grey stubbly whiskered
now graced the formerly clean-shaven face. Like an oversized rag doll, his limp
and lifeless arms lay at his sides. Resting on top of the gray blanket, his rigid,
paralyzed fingers could be seen curled up into two fists. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Greeting
him, my mom walked over so that he could see her. The recognition in his eyes told
us that he might remember her, or possibly it was just the happiness of seeing a
friendly face. My mother beckoned me over and gestured for me to speak to him.
I quickly said, “Hi, Uncle Bobby.” Continuing the one sided conversation, my mom
commented on different things while my eyes fell to looking around the small
room. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Glancing
around the room, my mind went back to when I first meet Uncle Bobby. He had
already suffered two strokes and was living with his daughter, my mom’s friend.
He was able to sit in a wheelchair and be a part of the family; however, the
strokes had prevented him from using his limbs for even the most basic needs
like feeding himself. Even with their busy lives, his daughter and her husband would
patiently feed him every meal. His joy was to watch his grandson play or see
the goings on of the house. Although he could not speak coherent words, his
mouth articulated as he tried to communicate using different sounds. When his
grandson was napping or the house was quiet, he would often sit in
contemplative thought. Since the first time I met him, he had suffered another
stroke and more setbacks as his body continued to shut down and deteriorate,
making it extremely difficult for the family to have him at home. The heartbreaking
decision was made by his daughter to move him to a nursing home 35 miles away. “Stop
by any time,” she had told my mom on the phone, “He’ll be more than happy to
see you.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNrV8bA1emv11IhaY-Y3GUvp5kFiVWJ28X338EaM1CutlRjj3eb5EQZYd3-iV1bYnFDiLYti1rYXBpAultUAlCZ0zgyjOyIb95OqbBIcTnspbQ3_b-95J2jWZAzWPv1BfgmirPgu8jqnPs/s1600/IMG_6309e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNrV8bA1emv11IhaY-Y3GUvp5kFiVWJ28X338EaM1CutlRjj3eb5EQZYd3-iV1bYnFDiLYti1rYXBpAultUAlCZ0zgyjOyIb95OqbBIcTnspbQ3_b-95J2jWZAzWPv1BfgmirPgu8jqnPs/s1600/IMG_6309e.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whittington Beach</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Memories
of how he used to be brought me back to why I was there and what we had come
for. I began to feel very sad for him. This gloomy room was nothing like the
clean cheery atmosphere of his daughter’s home. He had nothing to preoccupy his
time, no loved ones talking with him. Instead of family photographs, the only
things hanging on his wall were the checklists for the staff. A simple curtain
partition split his room with another man whose television was playing loud. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since the last stroke had taken from him the
ability to swallow food, he was fed through a feeding tube.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My
mom’s voice had continued rambling as I processed everything. I was brought out
of my thoughts when I heard her voice trail off into, “…I wonder if we could
take him for a walk?” She stopped to think for a moment before continuing, “Maybe
I should ask the nurse.” That was when she saw the feeding tube hooked up to
him, pumping in its cream-colored substance. “Oh, never mind,” she said sadly,
“he’s getting fed right now.” Her voice lifted when she said, “Maybe next time.”
Next time! My mind reeled; were we going to come back here? All I could feel
was the panic of my life slowly being sucked out of me. This place gave me the
shivers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
he seemed focused, we stayed for a bit longer telling him different things;
however, soon my baby brother started getting fussy. My mom looked at her
watch, “Well, I think it’s time we need to go. Adam is getting hungry for his
bottle,” she told Uncle Bobby. Once we said goodbye and wished him a good rest
of the day, we walked out. Passing through the yellow-painted lobby, I looked
at the fish in the tank. They didn’t look as terrified as I had first thought;
they looked trapped—trapped in the small box wishing for the big ocean they
once swam in. Like my uncle and the other patients at this place, their lives
had held so much more before coming here. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
receptionist thanked us for coming as we stepped out. I never felt such a rush
of freedom. The fresh air in my lungs was beautiful. I breathed deeply and
smiled up at heaven, thanking God that I was here instead of there. I was never
happier leaving a place than I was that day. As I continued to mull over my
thoughts of that experience and what my mom had said about returning, I started
thinking about Uncle Bobby. If I had been so happy to leave that place, was he
also feeling the same way? A pang of remorse stung my heart. I had never
thought about his desires; what about him? Did he ever wish for the day to pass
through those doors and go home? The more I dwelt on the thought of him sitting
there alone, the worse I felt. Although I did not want to return, my heart was
filled with pity toward him.</span><br />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdAN2S73QjJ-hJJwY0XNZylSbFBzJQPhwxNA6s1iCgF9QDf5n2pIUl7Cnx4cs7ygtjedjUUIT6Qe4S_gvdO9Y1c2hWEehCaUGxyCAGjLIxe-w8dCLR2Gq8WG_MX16YjleJNhbg8hjSA23S/s1600/IMG_6338e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdAN2S73QjJ-hJJwY0XNZylSbFBzJQPhwxNA6s1iCgF9QDf5n2pIUl7Cnx4cs7ygtjedjUUIT6Qe4S_gvdO9Y1c2hWEehCaUGxyCAGjLIxe-w8dCLR2Gq8WG_MX16YjleJNhbg8hjSA23S/s1600/IMG_6338e.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pebble Beach</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A
week later, I found myself again walking through the sliding doors. The ominous
exterior and dreary interior did not hit me as hard since I knew it was coming.
I looked at the sad fish as I entered the lobby. They looked up with what
seemed like intrigue to see me again and swam to the glass wall. The huddled
group appeared to discuss me amongst themselves. “Back again, are we?” quizzed
the ever pessimist. “I thought she’d never return,” sighed one. “I told you it
was only fear and she’d come around,” another sanguinely stated. “Had my face
portrayed the horror and fear that had welled up inside of me?” I pondered to
myself. It had been selfish of me. We did not stop to talk with the receptionist
this time; instead of fearfully following my mom, I strode in front and found
the room. Uncle Bobby was sitting up this time in a wheelchair, and I noticed
that the feeding tube was not attached. I smiled and happily called out, “Hello,
Uncle Bobby!” Upon hearing my voice ring out, the detached stare lifted from
him and I thought I saw his eyes light up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My
mother also kindly asked, “Hi, Bobby, how are you today?” A sound escaped his
lips. Seeing that he was already in a wheelchair, my mother mumbled something about
a nurse and walked out of the room. I was left standing there looking at him. I
didn’t really know what to say to him, so I just commented, “Oh, I think my mom
will be right back. She has gone to ask a nurse something.” He seemed to
understand as I again flashed him a smile and tried not to look as
uncomfortable as I was feeling. Soon my mom came back in with a nurse at her
heels. The nurse went to his side and in a clear voice asked him, “Robert, would
you like to go for a walk?” Although he did not say anything, his eyes seemed
to agree. She nodded her consent to us and left the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>After
walking through the hallways, we decided to take him outside. Even though my
mom never said it, I knew we were both thinking the same thing. Poor Uncle Bobby
needs fresh air and sunshine. As the mature trees sent leaves and shadows to
the ground, his body seemed to relax a bit as he enjoyed the change of scenery.
Taking deep breaths of clean air, we watched as the little breezes danced and
played with the leaves. Our half hour came to a short end and we took him back
into his room. I had brought some colored drawings to hang on his bare walls; my
mom helped me tape them up as he observed from his chair. I hoped that he would
like them. The last light of the afternoon was seeping through the cracks in
the blinds as we said our goodbyes. He stoically sat there watching us leave
his room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That
day I walked away and no longer felt pity but compassion for this man and the
other patients I had seen. I realized that for different reasons, these people
were put into the nursing home, separated from their previous lives. If their
loved ones did not or could not visit them, how alone they must have felt. On their
last journey of life, they are just left to their thoughts and memories. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As we
continued to visit Uncle Bobby, I noted his worsening condition; however, as
our life got busier we saw him less often. I remember the day we found out he
had passed; I realized then how grateful I was to my mother. By taking me to
visit, she had broadened my limited view of the world and taught me what really
mattered in life. </span><br />
</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9SMr0Q9IVZQUwoJVhyWJD-Wx1UguWGyyxbp22_-JaurWqP3CpwjszydZusnm84h82T0Skp5X7LqQdzuIMZ_DCyHb47X0eGW9Jb999strjXXgdyrWnIn86nHR-E0-n62dr1qk7XnPi6le/s1600/IMG_6330e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9SMr0Q9IVZQUwoJVhyWJD-Wx1UguWGyyxbp22_-JaurWqP3CpwjszydZusnm84h82T0Skp5X7LqQdzuIMZ_DCyHb47X0eGW9Jb999strjXXgdyrWnIn86nHR-E0-n62dr1qk7XnPi6le/s1600/IMG_6330e.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hono'apo Bay</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
memory of that place still is vivid in my mind, causing me to reflect on the
fact that age and death are a part of life, something I cannot hide from. Nevertheless,
I have learned that even though people may physically look different from their
youth, they are still the same people inside: people are humans, needing love,
connection, and care. My interest in the elderly has grown into a passion as I
enjoy conversing with the elderly and making sure they know that they are
appreciated. They will often thank me for spending time with them, despite the
fact that I get much more enrichment from them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When
I look back at pivotal points in my life, visiting Uncle Bobby sticks out as a
wonderful time of change, wonderful because I was there for another human
being, making his day just a little bit better. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In those weeks of visiting him, I learned that
helping those who cannot help themselves is the most rewarding thing I could
do. The last time I walked out the doors of that place, the late afternoon rays
hit the yellow walls, making them warmer than ever before. I looked at the fish
calmly gliding through the water. I finally realized what they had been trying
to tell me; this was their life and they were not afraid or confined.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just like the yellow walls absorbed whatever
fading light they could, the inhabitants of this place made the most of their declining
lives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-79102629188500723252013-09-01T16:19:00.000-10:002013-09-08T21:10:28.112-10:00ComfortableI'm in school. Being as that is the case and seeing my last post was some time ago, I'm putting 2 and 2 together and it's not looking very good. Well at least for this blog. So I wanted to write something not as a 'goodbye' but more as a 'see you soon'. Something that we can chew on, for a little bit at least.<br />
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Ok, so if you ask any of my friends or family about my driving habits they will quickly tell you that I'm an aggressive driver. It's true I'm not gonna deny it. I've lived in a small radius of 100ish miles for all of my life and have studied and learned the quickest ways to get to different places. I'm comfortable with my landmarks and can manipulate my driving even more. In the same sense my Christian walk can become 'known' so I take 'shortcuts'. My dependence on following the yellow-brick-road so to speak becomes less as I take matters into my own hands. It is easy for my to start relying on myself for everything instead of looking to God as my supplier. <br />
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Now take my first week of school. I'm going to a new school, living in a different city, sleeping in a different house, breaking in new shoes.....the list goes on. So now I'm an attentive driver, I have a map in my car [yes, don't laugh I'm just enough familiar with Hilo to get lost for a bit]. My spiritual life has had an awakening....I need you God! All of a sudden I feel my comfortable little world crashing down which has a cause and effect play on my reliance of God. All is well, I've become a more careful driver and God is the center of my life. <br />
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Well, not really, as we all know habits are hard to break and bad habits are even harder. So I'm driving down the main street looking for a bank that I just passed. I'm so concentrated on looking to my right that I failed to see that the intersection had a red light! I'm skating on thin ice and about to get the bad driver award. As I'm clipping along at a good pace I realize way to late that I'm running a red light. I do the typical slamming on the brakes just to see a truck making the turn in front of me. My anti-lock brakes are trying to stop momentum as I'm seconds away from broad side the back of this large white pickup. In the blur I didn't feel anything hit but automatically followed the truck thru the intersection to confirm all was ok. Out from the drivers side came this huge local guy. I couldn't tell if he was angry at me as I ran over. My heart was racing as I said "I'm so sorry! Are you ok!" He turned out to be very friendly and no damage was done. I felt my sunglasses fog up as my adrenaline was kicking in. I could tell that he was concerned that I was ok and before we parted he gave me a hug.<br />
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Two lessons were learned from this.<br />
1) If your gonna drive crazy and almost cause a wreck, find a nice Samoan father driving a white truck to do it to. <br />
2) If I don't give God complete control of my life, I'm going to cause wrecks in my life as well as others. <br />
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I've shared this awful story, not so that you climb a tree when you see me on the road, but so that we can all ponder the amount of control that we give our heavenly Father. 10%, 50% or 100%? What is our level of trust in Him. <br />
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If you're a regular reader you might be noticing a trend of posts that deal in some way about me and driving. If not check out these other posts from my blog.<br />
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<a href="http://elliethatcher.blogspot.com/2013/01/mission-accomplished.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Mission Accomplished?</span></a><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="http://elliethatcher.blogspot.com/2012/04/orange-thoughts.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Orange Thoughts</span></a></div>
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So until next time, readers...drive safe!</div>
Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-85185353470027065602013-05-16T17:00:00.000-10:002013-05-16T17:00:02.686-10:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I wanted to share some pictures from Instagram and update you on the past month.</div>
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Spent a wonderful Easter with family and all our new friends at church.</div>
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Got to welcome the newest member of our church. </div>
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Isn't he so cute?</div>
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End of April marked my 1yr of Crossfitting. Looking back have reached a lot of goals. with the most recent being my double-unders [in one jump, getting the rope to go under your feet twice]</div>
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Each day offers a new challenge, but it's worth it.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5vcYEtIZ8iM/UZK79aG-3HI/AAAAAAAACjQ/5pBH_b3_Uzk/s1600/IMG_20130322_192253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5vcYEtIZ8iM/UZK79aG-3HI/AAAAAAAACjQ/5pBH_b3_Uzk/s1600/IMG_20130322_192253.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Then during workout at CrossFit, I slipped and broke my big toe. I was super bummed, as I had to complete stay off of my foot for 3wks. Crutches Time!</div>
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After taking 2wks off, I slowly started going back to CrossFit. Of course modifying everything and being extremely careful!</div>
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One-legged Deadlifts.</div>
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Hang Power Cleans</div>
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I also got to meet one of the top CrossFit athletes, <a href="http://games.crossfit.com/athlete/17703" target="_blank">Matt Chan</a>. He holds the title of "Second Fittest Man On Earth" for the 2012 Games</div>
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In the midst of this foot injury, I have also been studying for my SAT. Math has been the hardest subject to regain.</div>
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Fortunately, I've still been able to have some fun and enjoy God's creation.</div>
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I lost the crutches after 3wks YIPPEE [just wearing the supportive boot now] and got to see one of my friends graduate college. </div>
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Last Sunday we celebrated love, life and mom's!</div>
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Where ever you might be I hope that you are having a...</div>
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<b>SPECTACULAR DAY!</b><br />
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Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-71423877141051797542013-04-18T12:51:00.003-10:002013-04-18T12:51:45.671-10:00SharingWhat is something that people use all the time? Communication. Communication can be done thru various ways such as thoughts, messages, speech, signals, or behavior to name a few. It's interesting to note that we get our word 'communication' from the Latin c<i>ommunis </i>meaning <i>to share</i>. Although this may seem so obvious to most, I'm not sure if I've really contemplated the fact that communication=sharing.<br />
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From a child I remember hearing about the Tower of Babel. It interested me that at one point there was one language that all people shared. God then confused the people and created a multitude of different languages, (being a jumbled up mess of 3 major languages, we can understand why English is so confusing). </div>
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In my early teens I became very aware of this thing called 'communication' though at the time I didn't label it that. I knew that something, innately in me wanted to express my feelings. Talking became my largest form of sharing thoughts with others. It started ever so small and then grew to become a passion of mine. I soon learned that not only did I want people to understand me, but I also wanted to understand them. </div>
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This passion has since funneled me to learning different forms of communication. The first time I stepped beyond my world was at church when I met a lady that was deaf. Every time I saw her there, she had a huge smile even though she would never hear the wonderful sounds that were all around her. She used sign language to communicate, however the only other person that could sign back to her was her husband. It bothered me that I could not fully 'speak' to her as I didn't know American Sign Language (ASL). It didn't take much brain power to realize that I could learn some signing and be able to talk to her. In a little bit I was able to say a short greeting and introduce my self in ASL. Unfortunately I never got the chance to talk with her as the moved off island shortly thereafter. </div>
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This experience wet my appetite and my itch for learning was soon tried again. I meet another lady, this time she was full Japanese. Although her accent was thick, she had a very good grasp of the English language. I knew some friends of mine that were in their second year of learning Japanese so I asked for some phrases. I still remember her look of surprise and delight when I said "Hello, how are you" in her native tongue. <br />
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My recent jaunts out of country have widened my scope of language and have added more beautiful words to my vocabulary. As with anything you learn the more you use it the better you become, so I have tried to brush up on what I've got. Pulling into work this morning, it suddenly hit me how perfectly located my job is. Here, I get the opportunity to speak Spanish to one neighbor and Russian to another, all while in the comforts of home.<br />
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Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-52690965846293202652013-04-09T17:41:00.001-10:002013-04-09T17:41:53.045-10:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Just because I have writers block, doesn't mean that you should suffer, right? Great, here are three pictures that I hope suffice until I post again :) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD2W4XTL8w8i_4PTuD67uJVrC-9KE4ma_qUoccABqooX_OR6KzIaBcfb0nYEmgaIezE6LM6bcO3mmk0z0tYRVKXqrbFkza3vEbc1WtNsS2QaegnIM_UX3apt36i30IXUEjGt4GgvKSCYhN/s1600/ocean.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD2W4XTL8w8i_4PTuD67uJVrC-9KE4ma_qUoccABqooX_OR6KzIaBcfb0nYEmgaIezE6LM6bcO3mmk0z0tYRVKXqrbFkza3vEbc1WtNsS2QaegnIM_UX3apt36i30IXUEjGt4GgvKSCYhN/s1600/ocean.JPG" height="640" width="427" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_iHEVHtDVm3gFLY-MuWgAWZJXVahV1nTTm9x-DBCWWzuEMp_RhiFfkg5W2CSTZBNXixWrWy-Ri3KGNeNHNSvoEeijdTgtcLrwVmfD6-vyHLvgfHQMiXRHEMo6k-N_MCe00F6P93G8WCR/s1600/Sarah.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_iHEVHtDVm3gFLY-MuWgAWZJXVahV1nTTm9x-DBCWWzuEMp_RhiFfkg5W2CSTZBNXixWrWy-Ri3KGNeNHNSvoEeijdTgtcLrwVmfD6-vyHLvgfHQMiXRHEMo6k-N_MCe00F6P93G8WCR/s1600/Sarah.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.sarahnicolet.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sarah</a> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDohgPuXt_egepwPMwxxUzbYmF7a3O-8p4Ivk9gi5aPoOihdM63u_wCHM_L23CqYVwRVWEwZ0djNXwT_njmxx6W6GdsFqz1b8cJ9dqK6FxcijhRljMs_46ky-lWX4fV1GMwTSBTozqAIEc/s1600/Kalei.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDohgPuXt_egepwPMwxxUzbYmF7a3O-8p4Ivk9gi5aPoOihdM63u_wCHM_L23CqYVwRVWEwZ0djNXwT_njmxx6W6GdsFqz1b8cJ9dqK6FxcijhRljMs_46ky-lWX4fV1GMwTSBTozqAIEc/s1600/Kalei.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://limpidoasis.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Kalei</a></div>
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<br />Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-4167674766311149222013-03-26T12:36:00.003-10:002013-04-01T12:56:50.116-10:00Where I've BeenWell, I seem to be having problems posting. If I write too much, Blogger spits out some messed up scramble of words that make no sense. So, I'll abbreviate and hope that blogger allows it.<br />
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I started a Instagram account. Crazy I know, as I've always been a anti-social networking activist. You can click on the picture slideshow to the left to see my pictures. And for those of you with your internet integrity is still intact, you can view pictures without having to make an account. :)<br />
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<br />Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-17892338877960542512013-03-20T13:16:00.000-10:002013-03-20T13:16:04.716-10:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx_ggx4jUxMYtdV914i2YPdeWqPcEVuVsR5d4-0XJEHM0XZs4W1_q2bEWn-v_oPmjwEJ8_GqcY93jwhKrXBytojT7Cxy8YDg12PqThTzMFHulYmPcd5fZvpxpKkHtRVSaTe99R4Bf4Zn-x/s1600/IMG_2128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx_ggx4jUxMYtdV914i2YPdeWqPcEVuVsR5d4-0XJEHM0XZs4W1_q2bEWn-v_oPmjwEJ8_GqcY93jwhKrXBytojT7Cxy8YDg12PqThTzMFHulYmPcd5fZvpxpKkHtRVSaTe99R4Bf4Zn-x/s1600/IMG_2128.JPG" height="427" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">After
the concert on Friday we picked up some cd's and talked briefly with the band. We told
Mark [the lead singer] that they would be seeing us again on Sunday at our
church. Learning that we where from Shorebreak, Mark said that they didn't know
if they had housing for all the band members, in particular him, his wife Avion
and their baby Zisa. We told him that we'd check it out and make sure
everyone was covered. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx2z9dmDiLr2c4cSr2sDftQgiB0rgagL-gwjGHIE8Eiyfydhjngo-Y4CsVR_3hDazS5O9TsZUd1bXrKopkome79BHdNAg7qTc45kzj-O_rhLXBTZZVOCFz11O30Hy7_hBRuqGver3Z-kHo/s1600/IMG_2150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx2z9dmDiLr2c4cSr2sDftQgiB0rgagL-gwjGHIE8Eiyfydhjngo-Y4CsVR_3hDazS5O9TsZUd1bXrKopkome79BHdNAg7qTc45kzj-O_rhLXBTZZVOCFz11O30Hy7_hBRuqGver3Z-kHo/s1600/IMG_2150.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Saturday we found out that yes, they still needed one
more place and without much more ado offered our apartment. It was a mad rush
to get everything ready for their arrival on Sunday but with some extra hands
[my mom's in particular] everything was done. Well guess who it was that ended
up needing our apartment? Mark, Avion, and Zisa!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6pfhWRcR5ryGS-wX85QT9CCptg6w9rskvwEzzkUCmSyBgJmfvn-S6jbPvlYKMXemTNDAs9_-Actq7KpZ9Y71rMCJKPpjAteZ98VKSX_as3Su72rJHaNsHGaVN0KlNfoJ65ChX2xpDxvtM/s1600/IMG_2172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6pfhWRcR5ryGS-wX85QT9CCptg6w9rskvwEzzkUCmSyBgJmfvn-S6jbPvlYKMXemTNDAs9_-Actq7KpZ9Y71rMCJKPpjAteZ98VKSX_as3Su72rJHaNsHGaVN0KlNfoJ65ChX2xpDxvtM/s1600/IMG_2172.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1zlYvFF9OpSdMiNG2Iu_6aBrdTw4Xoa3h8bC9XlqKPHNurqf9t_RvAnXOxaqqKLkgwipbIY4BPOgseu1cQXMTVEPKRvE5esMiUf8YOPLSOKeWAmuZKTmhoa7W58ZXaW0Gxg0fiJiMwQ4T/s1600/IMG_2233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1zlYvFF9OpSdMiNG2Iu_6aBrdTw4Xoa3h8bC9XlqKPHNurqf9t_RvAnXOxaqqKLkgwipbIY4BPOgseu1cQXMTVEPKRvE5esMiUf8YOPLSOKeWAmuZKTmhoa7W58ZXaW0Gxg0fiJiMwQ4T/s1600/IMG_2233.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0tIQuz4EkRPuds1uwIeBUJOVIhyphenhyphengo2WPUz6CS-d3AjbpuQthiuMt9gMIWGqa-UZquJhrnygabMUfcxEgN5D0X2LpTYY7liwHqw0DzDp9AbNQmW76ijHj-_CRnGdqswxQdOfpuZidGAEkJ/s1600/IMG_2257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0tIQuz4EkRPuds1uwIeBUJOVIhyphenhyphengo2WPUz6CS-d3AjbpuQthiuMt9gMIWGqa-UZquJhrnygabMUfcxEgN5D0X2LpTYY7liwHqw0DzDp9AbNQmW76ijHj-_CRnGdqswxQdOfpuZidGAEkJ/s1600/IMG_2257.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Sunday
morning they lead our church in worship and that night rocked the house with a
2 hr concert.We were so stoked to not only see them in concert 3 times, but to
host them!!!! Yikes, it was like a dream come true. Sarah and I re-located
to the office for the time being where the Murphy bed, shower and frig have
been put to good use. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">My camera was acting up so these are a bit blurry.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipt-xxN0uini71VkMe7ps5-71CMQPXmdOvbt9cMCFhmZfW6zATx3b5YnOlDLWWUsjDuDjFU7hhtpVZrQvtfsuk_VIOSuCo8eB1JwHoMjTgbi2wxpR2cf-LXwdSf3OD7SWq26GjKhlarRib/s1600/IMG_2284.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipt-xxN0uini71VkMe7ps5-71CMQPXmdOvbt9cMCFhmZfW6zATx3b5YnOlDLWWUsjDuDjFU7hhtpVZrQvtfsuk_VIOSuCo8eB1JwHoMjTgbi2wxpR2cf-LXwdSf3OD7SWq26GjKhlarRib/s1600/IMG_2284.JPG" height="211" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jaqueline</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbUd0l6sDHgHMrqn6yYa0ydY012aKwcdi0osxXBaSnsLIrB7XJWNMyUhkEy0xHcxvIbHvXQbWcHh6kjfcZ8SMegnaKSaTrMskT2OGQTPDsGacf0f_K13VZYEOKAir62Le5ey4_G16hAm5N/s1600/IMG_2279.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbUd0l6sDHgHMrqn6yYa0ydY012aKwcdi0osxXBaSnsLIrB7XJWNMyUhkEy0xHcxvIbHvXQbWcHh6kjfcZ8SMegnaKSaTrMskT2OGQTPDsGacf0f_K13VZYEOKAir62Le5ey4_G16hAm5N/s1600/IMG_2279.JPG" height="211" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark & Dyna</td></tr>
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Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-89200752063331122582013-03-18T21:20:00.002-10:002013-03-18T22:14:38.395-10:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPuhQVSvHyoFRev-OORohI9O-5kWCwIFJyX_-Jqpal5WwQvETLnFwlvKc9AjuG1Ve1I-cbcrV5lETZj9jDX4m-PaI-uJbIbQ1SWLQ4qZTZulO1VqUacSM5mK4ZKnEf3OvHByeCTQnlnnVK/s1600/IMG_2096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPuhQVSvHyoFRev-OORohI9O-5kWCwIFJyX_-Jqpal5WwQvETLnFwlvKc9AjuG1Ve1I-cbcrV5lETZj9jDX4m-PaI-uJbIbQ1SWLQ4qZTZulO1VqUacSM5mK4ZKnEf3OvHByeCTQnlnnVK/s1600/IMG_2096.JPG" height="428" width="640" /></a></div>
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Friday night us and 2 friends went to the Christafari concert in Honoka'a. <span style="text-align: center;">Christafari came on stage and got us all to come forward and pack the front.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtldpFgOprxJx_FXCKvKZhgxz8LuemVXj8LQ-eBDJHhnXeAEZRA0xvqgJN3p2jveXrsvk0LgqKGmVUXamr_R9VT9FIh9p8pvADetALiYgk1uaPyfDVGbZeXMw01Xp0hO9JWxmBo6oFscCD/s1600/IMG_2097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtldpFgOprxJx_FXCKvKZhgxz8LuemVXj8LQ-eBDJHhnXeAEZRA0xvqgJN3p2jveXrsvk0LgqKGmVUXamr_R9VT9FIh9p8pvADetALiYgk1uaPyfDVGbZeXMw01Xp0hO9JWxmBo6oFscCD/s1600/IMG_2097.JPG" height="267" width="400" /></a></div>
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The concert was AWESOME and since they put lyrics up for almost all the songs everyone could sing along. The little kids filled the front stage area and jammed to the music.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitienc1SASKWXLM-IJLniQ1kgsICRTCL6RZbDdGAJijUGLridF4LT_EhcZFjIpgUklEJZGRk2U6k68EtCBg4Rslg6vB5hUoXEUB0GBi6_l7zE1zTL9ry4-IpF8-xlGj6IXyyZ0jaaQ7a7e/s1600/IMG_2167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitienc1SASKWXLM-IJLniQ1kgsICRTCL6RZbDdGAJijUGLridF4LT_EhcZFjIpgUklEJZGRk2U6k68EtCBg4Rslg6vB5hUoXEUB0GBi6_l7zE1zTL9ry4-IpF8-xlGj6IXyyZ0jaaQ7a7e/s1600/IMG_2167.JPG" height="427" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Mark Mohr [California]</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6itBF-KEfZdDPIqZxfbnEwutpqY2pMEi6ki1LJjpmfjD6dVAKfJrftsI3wPY-nWl4foyu1FogNRUoM-MZ4GD780gMxh2i_N7GGN21HeGTDjMRgKjiO3xEcvnU0YeU6dTKJmZ2A22FYd8G/s1600/IMG_2243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6itBF-KEfZdDPIqZxfbnEwutpqY2pMEi6ki1LJjpmfjD6dVAKfJrftsI3wPY-nWl4foyu1FogNRUoM-MZ4GD780gMxh2i_N7GGN21HeGTDjMRgKjiO3xEcvnU0YeU6dTKJmZ2A22FYd8G/s1600/IMG_2243.JPG" height="427" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Avion Blackman-Mohr [Trinidad & Tobago]</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ1sM5nbX_UE0L0WKEIT6IeMfrxMWb5QRi1dll-cM4enGxQvCFJ7dmRHCoL-Rf1X-HaCvjCeQU3b8xBEidCP60u9fG7q7ZV2d7DxK3UYfCcD66nHeFPdyDnt9-LetWIB1JlvWZPWF6bHtt/s1600/IMG_2110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ1sM5nbX_UE0L0WKEIT6IeMfrxMWb5QRi1dll-cM4enGxQvCFJ7dmRHCoL-Rf1X-HaCvjCeQU3b8xBEidCP60u9fG7q7ZV2d7DxK3UYfCcD66nHeFPdyDnt9-LetWIB1JlvWZPWF6bHtt/s1600/IMG_2110.JPG" height="640" width="427" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Solomon Jabby [Florida]</span></td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV_WXGmERQDCQqghIopdK9al4pGL0PnPiXEvVgTGFebSfZP0vdZd1LCzu0W5R62scEE2Qzjyga6jZyzjXljBPNwtdeLobWbFpLimEOuCEz8zM2FXDk2-cJbDfydUxE1gDf78bYCI8LFqhu/s1600/IMG_2226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV_WXGmERQDCQqghIopdK9al4pGL0PnPiXEvVgTGFebSfZP0vdZd1LCzu0W5R62scEE2Qzjyga6jZyzjXljBPNwtdeLobWbFpLimEOuCEz8zM2FXDk2-cJbDfydUxE1gDf78bYCI8LFqhu/s1600/IMG_2226.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Jacquie Jabby [Colombia]</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-EHWlqc2jd4ZDP_OMRCPQibIAho7mlkuROgMlI2fJGT31tmxQkZxOdukZKsqJAkRnRLRCXUy6cz8KO6SqGTFxj_M_mXnKhToZ7XI021kUIFe1L2Y3amdTzarxrtGYkPIVpWYXLsw8m5QD/s1600/IMG_2209.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-EHWlqc2jd4ZDP_OMRCPQibIAho7mlkuROgMlI2fJGT31tmxQkZxOdukZKsqJAkRnRLRCXUy6cz8KO6SqGTFxj_M_mXnKhToZ7XI021kUIFe1L2Y3amdTzarxrtGYkPIVpWYXLsw8m5QD/s1600/IMG_2209.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Tyrone Rudolf [California]</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgaDwdrCCBm8ewMrTQX6ljGCibsRjc17JRL0afk-i0IaEnN2Nr6zdRIGumvNSOLEB3OJCzQjHU0h9Z3F3kZWVK4_ihSeaGIpARMQQL4U1KRle5xNJWDTKj0WdDf0YdPn_Hxz5Z53hPNKpJ/s1600/IMG_2134.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgaDwdrCCBm8ewMrTQX6ljGCibsRjc17JRL0afk-i0IaEnN2Nr6zdRIGumvNSOLEB3OJCzQjHU0h9Z3F3kZWVK4_ihSeaGIpARMQQL4U1KRle5xNJWDTKj0WdDf0YdPn_Hxz5Z53hPNKpJ/s1600/IMG_2134.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Justin Nalimu [from Hilo!]</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuekog628ywG1Lj_oE6OZmJQ9tqfMjd6sYyEWTJh213BOkVOOZoto9PG2I_lyVwCSlOIGSrCugwg2ZzDG_IbCMazZ-EFjCFrfHtG2zb3sPNXSq5riWxJhPp3dvCMg7_kqA5EBoh1NQf8rg/s1600/IMG_2267.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuekog628ywG1Lj_oE6OZmJQ9tqfMjd6sYyEWTJh213BOkVOOZoto9PG2I_lyVwCSlOIGSrCugwg2ZzDG_IbCMazZ-EFjCFrfHtG2zb3sPNXSq5riWxJhPp3dvCMg7_kqA5EBoh1NQf8rg/s1600/IMG_2267.JPG" height="267" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Obie Obien [Philippines] and Dyna [New Caledonia]</span></td></tr>
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Driving home we couldn't wait to see them on Sunday at our church.</div>
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Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-17782310479147284012013-03-11T13:27:00.000-10:002013-03-11T13:27:01.554-10:00Playing Catch-Up I hate it when 'updates' go by and I don't update my blog. Right now I'm in fumbling with words to get you interested in old news...argh. This is a great start ;)<br />
1) You might have noticed in some recent pictures that I have bangs and a long bob. It took my family some days to adjust to the new look. Growing up I always had bangs and therefore associated bangs with childhood. It's interesting to see the younger me flash out every now and again.<br />
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2) Sarah and I started going to a small fellowship called <a href="http://www.shorebreakchurch.com/" target="_blank">Shorebreak Church</a> on Sunday nights. During the last 2 months we have met many new friends with similar backgrounds. Last month Shorebreak merged with Calvary Chapel Kona Coast and started meeting in the mornings. Our little church doubled in size and hasn't stopped growing yet. This week they will be hosting a Christian reggae band <a href="http://www.christafari.com/" target="_blank">Christafari</a>. Groundbreaking to the Christian music industry, Christafari is to reggae music as Randy Stonehill and Keith Green were to rock music. In preparation for this concert this past Saturday found everyone at the church [which happens to be an old theater] cleaning, painting, and setting things up. Christafari will also be joined by Avion Blackman and Solomon Jabby.<br />
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Christafari</div>
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Avion Blackman</div>
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Solomon Jabby</div>
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Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-16653286085830831722013-03-05T13:17:00.001-10:002013-03-05T13:17:35.836-10:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sarah and I went to the 1 yr anniversary of my gym this past Sunday. The evening party was held at the beautiful Holualoa Inn, perched on the mountain side.<br />
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Everyone brought food that was soooo yummy we ate like kings.</div>
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<span style="text-align: start;"> It was great to see all my fellow exercise friends trade their work-out clothes to fancy stuff for the night. </span></div>
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At the end of the night my coach ,Monty, announced the winners for the recent 30-day Paleo food challenge. The results where a combination of before and after pictures, food journal and performance times on a set workout. I won the women's division and Larry won the men's. We were both given gift cards to a local health food store. Yippee!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Larry, Monty, me</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sarah and I</td></tr>
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<br />Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-35237128083690826392013-02-25T13:27:00.000-10:002013-02-25T13:27:12.634-10:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Yesterday after church we joined friends for some quality time at the beach. I decided not to take <a href="http://elliethatcher.blogspot.com/2012/09/meet-rebel.html" target="_blank">Rebel</a> with me as I didn't want it to get sandy, but as we neared the beach I wished I had. The water was showing off its many different colors of blue in a vivid ways. My camera phone ended up taking these great panoramic shots though.<br />
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<br />Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-47858365249172346862013-02-14T19:41:00.000-10:002013-02-18T12:50:59.268-10:00Last Saturday, CrossFit Kona teamed up with the Law Enforcement Torch Run to host a benefit competition to raise funds for the Special Olympics. Anyone could enter and compete in the workout. I was lucky to be in the first heat with some of my best buds from CF. The WOD [workout of the day] was an intense 17mins of almost non-stop exercise. There were 5 stations to which we competed for highest reps.<br />
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The first minute was wall balls </div>
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the second minute was pull-ups</div>
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3rd was box jumps</div>
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4th was push-ups</div>
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and last was rowing for calories</div>
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gasping for breath you rest one minute and while your judge adds you reps.</div>
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The crowd starts to cheer and everyone counts down"Three...Two....One....GO!"</div>
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Your rest is over and you pick up that weighted ball. If you're a guy the ball must touch the black paint. If you're a girl it must touch the blue line.</div>
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On to the pull ups and chin must be over the bar for these to count</div>
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Slowing down you pace the box jumps so that you don't trip.</div>
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Dropping to the floor, you make those push ups count. </div>
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It's the last minute of the second round, you know that a break is coming up but this rowing is getting to you. </div>
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You catch your breath and try to slow your racing heart. </div>
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But all you can think about is getting this last round over.</div>
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Your shoulders are on fire as you complete your final pull ups</div>
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Another minute of box jumps and you didn't trip? This is an achievement! </div>
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If they haven't already, your emotions have complete control of your face.<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xjYS5ZHJ_Iw/URk73_qhZPI/AAAAAAAACIw/i3-j3LKWIUk/s1600/IMG_1800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xjYS5ZHJ_Iw/URk73_qhZPI/AAAAAAAACIw/i3-j3LKWIUk/s1600/IMG_1800.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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With the finish line in sight you pull with all your might.</div>
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Then the word you have been longing to hear for the past 17 mins</div>
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TIME!!</div>
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You can barely scrawl you name as you approve the judges score.</div>
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Looking around you realize it was totally worth it.<br />
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This was an Special Olympics Athlete that competed.</div>
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Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-55048871260149476402013-02-09T18:51:00.000-10:002013-02-09T18:51:09.388-10:00<div style="text-align: center;">
Today was busy.</div>
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Today was fun.</div>
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Today was tiring.</div>
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Today was my first CrossFit Competition</div>
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Full story and more pictures to follow.</div>
Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-16718287592786301862013-02-08T13:08:00.001-10:002013-02-08T13:08:33.735-10:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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If cats could talk...</div>
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they wouldn't.</div>
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Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-82035491385557958762013-02-04T12:24:00.000-10:002013-02-04T12:24:31.750-10:00Now that the office has been built, the great job or re-organizing the tools and supplies downstairs is taking place. The other day I went down to give advise and confirm how some shelves where going up. The task could have been completed with only 1 pair of hands but I jumped in to help my dad. Closely observing him, I leaned over to hand him screws and brackets. This took me back to the 2 1/2 yrs that I worked with him on the field.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rfzaA4xOxZk/UQhOXibt6WI/AAAAAAAABl8/wgunX-wC-oE/s1600/2013-01-18+13.23.11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rfzaA4xOxZk/UQhOXibt6WI/AAAAAAAABl8/wgunX-wC-oE/s1600/2013-01-18+13.23.11.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Christmas 2009 after a chain of events found me and my sister drafted as my dads new field hands. Not knowing much about air conditioning, the best I could do was watch intensely and hope to learn something. As I got more and more familiar with the jobs and typical protocol for repairs, I was able to anticipate what might be needed to complete a job. I thrived on this 'anticipation game' and tried as hard as I could to have the tool/part or what-have-you ready for my dad before he even asked for it. It was a great satisfaction to me that even though I couldn't necessarily perform the repair I could be a time saver. This time also taught me much about this man that God had placed in my life. Even though I majorly disliked [and still do] close to every aspect of being an air conditioning technician, helping my dad on a day-today bases has been missed.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R4yIYziv_PY/URAyBAQt7SI/AAAAAAAABok/oGRBFU2iVmo/s1600/2013-02-04+11.30.19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R4yIYziv_PY/URAyBAQt7SI/AAAAAAAABok/oGRBFU2iVmo/s1600/2013-02-04+11.30.19.jpg" height="166" width="640" /></a></div>
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Organized storage!</div>
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<br />Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-67796210057601311192013-01-30T04:30:00.000-10:002013-02-12T12:55:02.043-10:00Every once in a while we do rope climbs in our box. Last month I did my first climb to the top [15ft] however I could only do 1 and ended up modifying the rest of the workout as my hands fatigued and foot lock kept slipping. Yesterday, rope climbs where part of the WOD and I did the whole workout with no modifications [6 climbs!] This is a picture my coach snapped on one of my climbs up.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_-wr3ynBBWo/UQmyOaCVeKI/AAAAAAAABnc/8hscVH-UH_o/s1600/2013-01-29+18.44.36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_-wr3ynBBWo/UQmyOaCVeKI/AAAAAAAABnc/8hscVH-UH_o/s1600/2013-01-29+18.44.36.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-51067375836955538982013-01-22T13:04:00.000-10:002013-01-22T13:04:01.727-10:00Mission Accomplished?Last week was busy, like it always is. On one of my town runs I had mail for the post office. It was super packed in town and as I glanced at the time I realized that I shouldn't not have picked lunch to do my errands. Traffic was bumper to bumper in the small poorly planned shopping center that the post office is in. I had the letters in hand and window rolled down waiting for the drop box. Pedestrians, indecisive drivers, and overly-kind drivers which were allowing everyone to cut all had me tapping my fingers impatiently. The goal in my head was easy "Get in and get out!" Realizing that all the tension wasn't helping, I let my mind drift to other things. Almost at the drop box my mind was completely absorbed in something else and not the traffic at the post office. I dropped the letters in my lap and leisurely held the wheel in my hands. Next thing you know I was back on the main road heading to my next destination. And that's when this thought slowly crept into my mind. Hmmm, don't really remember putting the mail in the drop box? Hmmm. Then it hit me----Oh no! It's still in my lap!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjK_HlqlXcmZz8sOR_RMLc80Pb1FLjtwcUbTDn8VuYX10vPXi_DYyRHUexUnXP0YR-Wr68tRX-nTIT1JtCeBue_w4_tAvRqbUrRQv8zM-8_D3q_XvnTd8BV1nuFxiMWI6mINIFF10ycTrm/s1600/IMG_2221+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjK_HlqlXcmZz8sOR_RMLc80Pb1FLjtwcUbTDn8VuYX10vPXi_DYyRHUexUnXP0YR-Wr68tRX-nTIT1JtCeBue_w4_tAvRqbUrRQv8zM-8_D3q_XvnTd8BV1nuFxiMWI6mINIFF10ycTrm/s1600/IMG_2221+-+Copy.JPG" height="267" width="400" /></a></div>
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A little senile here? I mean that was the whole point of going into that mad house to begin with. Mail the letters! While kicking my self for this brainless mistake I pulled a lesson from it. <br />
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Once you become a Christian one of the biggest jobs is to 'mail the letters' ie. share the Gospel of Christ with others. This great gift that God gave is not to be hidden but shared.<br />
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Simple, right? Wrong.<br />
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Once we become citizens of Heaven our allegiance with Satan and our sinful nature has been severed. What use to be home is now a war zone. Our sinful nature, accustom to getting it's own way, fights against everything that's godly. It starts pushing fear, pride and selfishness inside of us at the thought of sharing God with someone. If we conquer 'self', Satan isn't far behind. He doesn't like this change and thwarts however he can. Distractions are a well played ploy in his cruel game of death. Falling for them, we become completely senseless and the 'mail' drops from our minds. We forget our mission and eagerly move on. But the Holy Spirit starts pricking our hearts and the murky thoughts dissipate. We realize our error and are discouraged at our own failures. God's grace is readily available as we pour our self out and refill with His Love.<br />
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And as the great radio host, Paul Harvey, use to say...."The rest of the story"....I still had to mail the letters and got an opportunity later that day. Because of that mornings event, I was focused on the task at hand and didn't repeat my mistake. Just like Christians, God will give us multiple opportunities to share His Mail. If we stay focused and learn from the past we can be well used tools in His Hands.<br />
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Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-68669508743611802842013-01-03T13:08:00.002-10:002013-02-12T12:55:21.230-10:00Happy New Year!What did you do on the last day of 2012? I took an unplanned trip with my mom to the beautiful and cool Waimea early in the morning. You can probably guess why....crossfit! It was the first time that I had trained in moms gym and it happened to be the biggest class ever at CrossFit All Star. It was awesome though the altitude had me seeing stars during the workout. What a sight to see this big happy family finishing out the year with a bang. Click here for the photo's ---> <a href="http://crossfitallstar.com/wod/2012/12/31/123112-wrap-up-2012-w-record-breaking-attendance-at-allstar.html" target="_blank">CROSSFIT</a><br />
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Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-7414811911795434672012-12-29T15:51:00.000-10:002012-12-29T15:51:35.310-10:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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"...if home is where the heart is</div>
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then my <span style="font-family: inherit;">home</span> is where you are</div>
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but it's getting oh so hard<br />
to spend these days without my heart..."<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">~ <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CvG5TLd8yGc" target="_blank">Relient K</a></span><br />
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Christmastime is family time. </div>
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Being surrounded by the people you love and care for. </div>
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It is indeed the most wonderful time of the year<br />
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<br />Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5811782803232256847.post-34607362283732827552012-12-24T09:00:00.000-10:002012-12-24T09:00:03.221-10:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
MERRY CHRISTMAS</div>
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From the land where palm tree's <i>sway</i>.</div>
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Christmas is a wonderful reminder</div>
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of the <a href="http://www.chick.com/cartoons/gset.html" target="_blank">FREE GIFT</a> that is given to <b><u>YOU!</u></b></div>
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Eternal life thru <i>Christ Jesus</i>.</div>
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Elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16635587095644886566noreply@blogger.com2