In Utah, I run around barefoot or in slippahs waaaay too frequently. It’s not unusual to see me scampering to the mailbox, quick stepping through the snow because until that moment when the sub-zero cold hit my tender tootsies I forgot that normal people wear thick socks and boots in December. There’s something to the saying that you can take the tita out of Hawaii, but not the Hawaii out of the tita.
A side effect of my refusal to wear shoes are rough, dry, and cracked heels. Too much desert, not enough humidity, and definitely not enough hours in the ocean and walking along the beach. I’ve tried all kinds of treatments and lotions from snooty spas to good ol’ Vaseline and plastic wrap, but nothing seems to work very well.
So when I saw this new, easy fix on the internet it’s no wonder I gave it a try. It came up on my Pinterest and Facebook feed at least ten times over the summer and was always accompanied by a zillion testimonials of how amazing it was. Maybe you saw this, too:
This is crazy. Mix 1/4 cup Listerine (any kind but I like the blue), 1/4 cup vinegar, and 1/2 cup of warm water. Soak feet for 10 minutes and when you take them out the dead skin will practically wipe off.
I know, right?
So I got all the stuff together, mixed quadruple the amounts (I wanted my heels covered) it in a big shallow bowl, plunked the bowl in the tub, perched on the edge, plopped my feet in, and goofed on my iPad for 10 minutes. The results?
Smurf foot.
My skin is blue and no amount of scrubbing with anything short of a sandblaster is going to change it. And of course, the color’s deepest where the skin looks its worst, the exact part I wanted to remove, not highlight like a muffin top over leggings.
My son, the honors chemistry student, laughs and says I should’ve known this would happen and goes through some long-winded explanation about how the acid in vinegar breaks down oils in the foot so the blue dye in the Listerine can penetrate better and then rambled on about quantum mechanics and turning straw into gold—I don’t know, I stopped listening.
Punked.
And no slippahs for at least a week!
“There’s a mountain lion near the haystack. It’s a big one.”
Kevin and I had just left the house and were headed to a late night movie when the cell phone rang. Kevin joked, “I bet the kids want us to bring them ice cream.”
“I bet they’re arguing over who has to get the eggs and who has to do the dishes,” I said.
Cougars were not in our top three. I’m not sure they were even on our list of possibilities.
“Dad? When Dylan went out to feed the horses, he saw a mountain lion. There’s a mountain lion near the haystack. It’s a big one. What do we do?” Shelby asked.
“Keep the dogs in the house,” Kevin said. “Don’t worry about the eggs. It’s after the deer that have come down from the hills looking for better forage. It’ll leave soon.”
Time to warn the neighbors and circle the wagons again.
Yep. It’s fall.
lānai(LAH-naheye)
(n) Hawaiian for porch, patio.
Example
English: They like to set those kinds of glass balls on their coffee tables, but I’m only going to sell the small ones. The big ones are for us. They’ll ;ook nice on the patio.
Pidgin: They like those popo aniani for put on the coffee table. But I only going sell the small kine. The big kine’s for us. Look nice on the lānai.
Note: ‘Ōlelo is a Hawaiian word meaning language, speech, word, etc. To see the current list of Hawaiian and Pidgin words, definitions, and usage please click on
“It’s comin’ a storm.”
I followed my daughter’s gaze to the horizon and saw the lightning flash. Clouds dark as God’s armageddon gathered force along the distant mountain range. On cue the wind blew a tumbleweed across the highway in front of my car. Despite the summer heat, I shivered as a goose stepped over my grave.
It’s comin’ a storm.
Something about that phrase sparked my imagination, resonating with images of desperate ghost towns and a finality that comes with accepting what you can’t control. A whole world spun out in my imagination, the possibilities tangled like threads in a broken loom.
“It’s comin’ a storm?” scoffed my son from the backseat. “You sound like Yoda.”
“My words tripped on their way out of my mouth,” my daughter said with a shrug.
“Better not speak like that in school or they’ll kick you out of Honors English,” he said.
“Whatever. It’s still coming,” she said.
I shook my head and swept up the cobwebs of an unborn story, tucking them into bed in a mental incubator. We were running a marathon of back-to-school shopping and like Robert Frost said, we had miles to go before we sleep.
It’s comin’ a storm–and a story–but not today.
kolohe(koh-LOH-heh)
(v) Hawaiian for mischievous, naughty, a rascal.
Example
English: Mitsy laughed. “Oh, Kahana! How I delight in your rascally nature! You haven’t changed a bit!”
Pidgin: Mitsy laughed. “Oh, Kahana, you still kolohe, ah you!”
Note: ‘Ōlelo is a Hawaiian word meaning language, speech, word, etc. To see the current list of Hawaiian and Pidgin words, definitions, and usage please click on
(kah-OH-nah)
(n)The hidden meaning of a song, poem, chant, dance, etc. When you see old folks laughing about innocent songs about fishing or mist, you’re missing the kaona.
Example
English: The hidden metaphors in that song are so powerful!
Pidgin: Kaona, yeah?
Note: ‘Ōlelo is a Hawaiian word meaning language, speech, word, etc. To see the current list of Hawaiian and Pidgin words, definitions, and usage please click on