Saturday, July 3
Havu season is almost over. We knew that it would be closed to finished when we arrived back in Marulaon, but we are still disappointed. Last year, we were able to buy enough at Market to last us until January. We shared with our neighbors just before Christmas, and they found the havu to be such a treat! When we are in
I was delighted this morning at market when two young girls brought some havu that had been shelled but not motued. I asked Eileen if she would be willing to teach me how to motu the nuts and how to make some maki with them. She said I could make deidei with the un-motued havu, so after market several of us sat around and removed the inner skin from the havu. We decided to make deidei instead of lelenga today since they both use obikola (cassava) and stay all night on the motu.
When Katherine went down for her nap, the rest of us peeled, washed, and grated the obikola. Later in the afternoon, we went down and borrowed a nago from a friend to smash the havu and mix it with the grated obikola. After it was all smashed and mixed, we put it into a tray lined with banana leaves, and it was ready to go on the hot stones. I had a really hard time getting the fire to start, and eventually Aaron came and bailed me out. Good thing he's an Eagle Scout!
Thursday, July 1
July
by Susan Hartley Swett
When the scarlet cardinal tells
Her dream to the dragon fly,
And the lazy breeze makes a nest in the trees,
And murmurs a lullaby,
It is July.
When the tangled cobweb pulls
The cornflower's cap awry,
And the lilies tall lean over the wall
To bow to the butterfly,
It is July.
When the heat like a mist veil floats,
And poppies flame in the rye,
And the silver note in the streamlet's throat
Has softened almost to a sigh,
It is July.
When the hours are so still that time
Forgets them, and lets them lie
'Neath petals pink till the night starts wink
At the sunset in the sky,
It is July.
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