Settling In Gently by R.A.Davis

Ten years in Hawaii-- that's it. That's only a decade. I've got a 5th grader's worth of life experience in Hawaii. I learned some things. I learned my favorite foods and favorite places. I learned the language. I made friends-- people grown there and flown there-- but always the seeking souls. The people curious about the world and open to conversations that dive and meander and plan and mourn. I threw a lot of parties. I lived most of a marriage there. It ended there, too, when he died. Hell of a way to end a marriage... But that's off topic. I'm thinking about carrying that forward, here, and now. In Utah. On the mainland. On the stolen lands of the Ute, the Shoshone. One reason I learned Hawaiian, and learned the stories and songs and chants and place names, was because I believe that is your responsibility when you live someplace, to understand the culture and history. It wasn't mine, by blood, but I did not want to contribute to its erasure wit...

Auntie Tina, the stalwart leader of the Hawaiian Civic Club in West Valley here in Utah, recently hosted a pop-up event, and invited anybody who wanted to come sell stuff to bring their goodies and lay out their five square feet of crafter real estate. I told my kids-- we were excited. They are selling masters. They've raised hundreds of dollars through applesauce and lemonade and rice krispie bars, and spent it all gleefully at American Girl stores. We brainstormed what we could sell-- the kids are great at making pretty little satin ribbon lei, and magical little bottles of pa'akai-- Hawaiian salt. And I've got all this old Knotty Honu stuff that's been sitting in my craft corner for ages. I was excited to dust it off and move some of it out into the world. I dug out my t-shirt stencils and blank onesies, my stacks of glossy photos of ginger and plumeria and hibiscus and lilikoi and bird of paradise and bananas and chili peppers, the slightly wilted envelopes, and m...