What was south is north; what was east is west

Time has been fiddled.

Daylight Savings Time.

We had not slept.

Time has been fiddled.

The man.

Burned his slash.

Late at night.

When Beings need sleep.

We had not slept.

For three nights.

We were forced to move.

The deputy shined his light on us.

"Oh you're the guy who called," he said.

"You have every reason to be here."
He drove to the burn site.

We slept in 'Scout'

At Holmes Harbor.

Home away from home.

YMC

Pete is tucked under blanket, quilt, Big Red and a Dikka Ballantine original hat. We have worked harder than we're used to in the past few days; and that is saying a lot. Our life is hard work. Good. Hard. Honest. Work. Humbling stuff this hard, survivor instinctive work.

We made the turn though. Literally, our Golden Wagon and we now experience what was south is north; what was east is west. Our minds and our attention are changing. Pete needs some attention now, and two hot stones -- our warming pohaku -- are heating his body after intent exertion.

I'm at work here at the keys and screen; downloaded some of the photos and videos that document this excursion stitching across the borders some would hope were margins that stuck -- keeping us out of the way, down or out. But oh how they misinterpret our tiny wagon and her peoples' medicine.

We got an email from someone who doesn't normally communicate with us. She'd heard about our latest search for home from a mutual friend. An edited version of that email follows:

"I hold the intention of “your place to be, and take sanctuary”

…  I read some of your blog as I heal… and see you as SO WISE and willing to be truthful and full of hope!!

I’m so sorry our culture is so full of fear and smallness." 

That third morning when Pete and I spent road miles and sleepless nights escaping the arrogance of a man who persisted in his burns, even after being 'told to extinguish ...' by governmental agency issuing his $100 permit, we tried going back to the vardo for sleep. A'ole. No. The air was still thick with smoke. So we drove into Langley and were reminded: The Sun. E Ala E. The Sun rises. Les Gabelein's slash burn is minutiae.

Look at the new day born. Happy Birthday!!

In the frost-covered bench along the docks in Langley, I etched a birthday greeting for our nephew, "Wika". The technology of iPhones connected us ... I sent it off to Hawaii. "Beautiful. Thank you Aunty," he replied minutes later.

 

Yesterday, Pete and I had chicken and rice on our front porch. Eating facing west, listening to Hawaiian music that holds such heart and soul medicine for us.  It is so important to remember to find and feel the beauty of every day.

Mahalo Ke Akua e na 'aumakua. As I work to get this new post strung into lei, I do it knowing my Pisces Ma would be 101 years old today. Hauoli La Hanau, Ma. Still loving you!

xoxo Titi, the Tough Tita and Pete, the Dude