The lava is just about to hit the first houses in Pahoa town. We are prepping the banana shack, packing our home, and saying goodbyes to friends as we all scatter on the winds of big changes happening to our lovely district.
You'll likely have seen images on mainstream news now that it's closer
to being the sensation of the week. But I thought I'd check in, however
briefly, to let you know we're still here, but not for long.
This slow-motion disaster is taking its toll on everyone's nerves, but it is also affording us time to come to grips with the new reality: Pahoa will never be the same, if it will even exist. Puna District will be cleft in two: those behind the flow and those on the Hilo side. Saddest of all, for me, is that our kids and we will be on opposite sides. There are graveled connecting roads in place and being constructed - and we are most grateful for that! It means not being totally isolated behind the flow - but the drive times to just about everywhere will be much longer. Oh well, we're kind of used to that, coming from the mountainous Inland Northwest.
So many paths for our thoughts to wander down in the midst of the turmoil the lava flow is causing. We have shut down the vacation rental, obviously. We are down to just one pig, Pinkie Pie, who is (hopefully) bred (this time). She will come with us to the new land, once we build a place for her, after we finish up a place for us. One more load of feed is due to arrive today or tomorrow, and will no doubt be sold off quickly. We are no longer offering farm tours. The store where I sell excess eggs is closing, so I'm not sure what to do with all my chickens. Our food crops and trees are just coming into their full production here; it's a harsh reality that they will likely be gone ere long and we will have to completely start over again from the ground up.
I'll be back once the pace isn't quite so exceedingly stressful here. In the meantime, all good thoughts and prayers are most welcome, not just for us but for our entire community.