First Time at the Hawaii State Art Museum

We traded sunshine and salt water for culture yesterday as we visited the Hawaii State Art Museum. Given that I had never been to the HiSAM and this island is surrounded by water, it was probably the correct choice.

Our contributions to the island.

Our contributions to the island.

We participated in several activities and the first of which was the clay molding. The three of us were given a ball of clay each and asked to create an animal (or something) to be placed on an island. This island was a collection of sod and fake grass sitting on a blue tarp atop a table. Did it look great? No. But it’s infinitely better than any island I would have created myself. Besides, no pressure. So, Madison made the berry tree standing atop the the mountain. I made the Lapras in the middle of the pool. Lynnette handcrafted the snail resting on the rock above the pool. She also tried to re-enact Ghost by herself. Anyway, when we returned to the island on the way out, a woman working the tent told us that the snail had earned many compliments. Mad rushed to tell Lynnette who in turn said “Oh, really?” instead of dropping a gangster head nod like she really wanted to.

I love you so much, softshell crab.

I love you so much, softshell crab.

We were in the neighborhood or close enough to the neighborhood of Mei Sum so that’s where we went for lunch. You may remember that one of my all-time favorite dishes – the garlic softshell crab – resides here. My heart overflowed with joy when this tiny dish was brought to the table. Lynnette took half of one crab and I offered more to both her and Madison out of familial obligation but I was (probably not-so) secretly thrilled when both declined. Madison was too busy inhaling pork hash and Lynnette was occupied with eating in such a way that would save juuuuuuuuust enough space so as to allow her a shot at dessert.

All is forgiven.

All is forgiven.

Speaking of dessert, Madison’s little heart broke yesterday.

I guess Mad’s getting better at recognizing locations on the island because we were on Nimitz headed west when her little voice called out from the back of the Highlander. “Oh, we’re by Liliha Bakery. I wonder if they have my chocolate cake doughnut since they ran out last time.” she said. Lynnette and I looked at each other and I swear Lynnette had a glint of pride in her eye resulting from the textbook passive-aggressiveness utilized by her daughter. Well, they had a single chocolate cake doughnut left. The woman just before us in line ordered it. Madison watched the worked lift her destiny away with tongs and put it into someone else’s foam container. Mad shoved her face into her brothers and sisters and started crying. I understood. It sucks to have the rug yanked out from under you. She didn’t whine, she didn’t complain. I am grateful to the woman in line before us: she saw Mad’s reaction and offered to give it up. We politely declined and Mad understood. The woman was in line first. I was proud of her so I took a detour to Liliha and Kuakini in hopes that the original location would have the elusive chocolate cake doughnut. Thankfully, they did. Sometimes things don’t work out and then sometimes they do.

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