the hot rod truck of hanapepe

As I’ve previously alluded to that I’ve alluded to (you’ve got that right), we took the boys into Hanapepe on a stormy day across the island and they sure enjoyed this fancy old truck that’s parked (permanently, it appears) at one end of town. I grew up next door to my grandparents’ farm and they had a junkyard fleet of old-time cars and trucks with enormous fins and three hundred pound chrome grills. I spent hours and hours sitting in those jalopies pretending to go somewhere (except for when the wasps and hornets would get riled up at having their home invaded). Every once in a while when Adam and I are on our way to somewhere afield we’ll see an antique junker sitting in a pasture, a tattered for-sale sign in the windshield. And we’ll propose a venture whereby we have it towed home to Seattle, where it’ll find permanent residency in the back of our driveway with a bed of flowers planted on the roof and a set of honeybee hives in the engine.  It is true, ornery hornets and wasps could invade this fantasy (they love wheel wells). But the real problem, Adam talks about how we’ll probably get in trouble by freckles and then I explain dejectedly once again at some length that there’s probably some obscure Seattle municipal code against having narrow gauge logging trucks sitting on your property. But I don’t know. We might still try it, someday.

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