San Diego Wild Animal Park

We visited the San Diego Wild Animal Park with the Harveys. It is double the size of the San Diego Zoo. They had been to the zoo, so we opted to visit the Wild Animal Park. Both the San Diego Zoo and San Diego Wild Animal Park are owned and operated by the San Diego Zoo. The Park is located north of metro city of San Diego, but is still in the county of San Diego. It is a loooooong 46 mile drive from my house. The whole way there Son1 kept asking if we were still in San Diego, OVER and OVER. He was so sincere. The Harveys and I cracked up each time. The park is also a ways off the freeway, around and around through some desert areas of Escondido. Finally, we arrived, piled out of the car, and were through the entrance. Many of these pictures are courtesy of the Harveys. We were blessed the weather was in the 60s. Escondido can be one of the hottest spots in the whole county during the warmer months, into the triple digits. See all of the gorgeous landscaping at the park? You literally feel like you are walking through the jungle.
Many people come to the Wild Animal Park just to enjoy the beauty of the different gardens. The Wild Animal Park displays plants used with special permits from all over the world, including endangered plant species. Both the SD Zoo and the SD Wild Animal Park are also rescue centers for endangered plants. There are different elevations all around the park, so the plants are varied and truly their own eye candy. San Diego keeps a mild Mediterranean climate, so that is why almost anything grows here! The SD Zoo and SD Wild Animal Park have expert horticulturists. The healthy plants and gardens are vital to keeping the animals healthy. J and K kept commenting on the different plants and species all around the park. I told them that there are plenty of people that hold season passes to the San Diego Zoo and San Diego Wild Animal Park (like my parents) that come and enjoy the landscaping as much as they enjoy the animals. The plant collection at the Wild Animal Park cannot be replicated hardly anywhere in one spot in the world.

One of my favorite spots in the Park was Lorikeet Landing. Lorikeets are colorful little parrots from rainforests in Australia and New Guinea. We walked into this spacious aviary, where over 80 birds live. The birds were super friendly. They landed right on different people's shoulders. My kids were somewhat timid, but little A was not. The birds sensed this and came right up to her. The birds were loud and chattery, and quite friendly. The excitement of the other guests caught on to my children soon enough. The bird noises were beautiful, their colors were vibrant, and their friendliness was mesmerizing. The Wild Animal Park is unique because the animals are kept in free range exhibits. In other words, the animals have free roam within large open spaces, but they are still somewhat confined. See this pelican?J and A watched the pelican from this extensive pathway that encircled the lengthy pond, that was bordered on one end by a large waterfall. We also watched the pelican take off and soar high above the pond. We felt like we watched the pelican in a natural habitat. That is what makes the Wild Animal Park special!We walked a two mile trail that wound us through distinct habitats. We spiraled through the rain forest, open savananna, and along shaded trails. The cool thing about the Wild Animal Park is that you can choose different ways to see the animals. At one point in our journey, we came to the viewing deck at The Great Rift Lift, and we had an inspiring view high in the air. The deck wraps around for many, many feet.
We rode the elevators down to the bottom, and boarded the open sided African Express cars at Simba Station. Our guide took us on another 2 mile excursion through the African desert, where we saw the animals up close, roaming in mass open spaces. The cheetahs were lazing in the sun, the giraffes were grazing on leaves, and the rhinos were enjoying family time.


We departed Journey into Africa and wandered up to Lion Camp. The big cats were asleep, but the kids loved watching them. See those rocks? They are heated in the winter for the lions.
At Lion Camp (and most exhibits throughout the park) the information surrounding the lions is available at different reading levels. It is a noticeable difference from exhibits at other zoos. The SD Zoo is uniquely committed to both conservation and education. Around the corner are more lengthy information boards mounted higher for adults. For children, there are interactive learning aids with shorter questions and answers about the lions.The Harveys generously treated our family to a ride on the Conservation Carousel. The animals on the carousel are purchased in memory of loved ones or as donations to conservation efforts by the Wild Animal Park. Many animals on the carousel are endangered animals. Son1 and A loved their animals, unlike Son2. He is usually my fearless super action kid, but he was too afraid he was going to fall from the carousel.
Instead Son2 and I chose a bird's nest that spun like a tea cup. Apparently speed doesn't frighten him, just heights!
The Harveys shopped a bit while we entertained ourselves like frogs at the entrance to Nairobi Village. The waterfall behind us was designed after the ceremonial chamber of a Ugandan king.
We packed a lot into four hours at the Wild Animal Park. We mounted a replica of a bronzed life sized white rhino for one last goodbye.

We finally got back to my house....and have I mentioned how great the Harveys are every time they come? After a long day at the Wild Animal Park they made our family dinner! They pulled spices from their suitcases, shopped for food, and made dinner! Hooray!

The First Stake Out Births the Marshmallow Roast Ten Years Later

Ten and a half years ago, we were very newlyweds. I was the first of my friends to marry and then I moved an hour and a half away to a quiet suburb in the next county. Our new town was small and a family oriented community, different than when we lived on the west side of Los Angeles, in YUPpyville (young, urban, professionals). In our new town, Hubs and I wanted married friends, but it didn't happen. He was traveling over 50% of the year, and it was hard to make couple friends as half a couple. One Sunday we visited a church, and right in the bulletin there was an announcement for a marriage study that Wednesday night.

We pulled in front of the house, just a few minutes late, and noticed three cars parked in front. All three were minivans. Uh oh. At this point in life, Hubs and I both drove sports cars. Two doors, that was our limit. I will cut the story short and tell you how it was a very painful evening for us. The three couples were old enough to be our parents. One couple had grown children our age, and let us know that. But at prayer time, they were so thankful that God finally brought another couple to their study. Their exuberance and thankfulness was enough to make us squirm. Maybe we were just unthankful. Still resolved to make married friends, the next week we attempted the study again. Well, not really. We parked on the cross street, and waited and watched for 15 minutes past the start time. The same three minivans were parked in front of the house. Yep, we drove away. Newly married, we did not want to hang out with people old enough to be our folks. We have often laughed about that night, and dubbed it "The Stake Out."

Two years later, Hubs landed a job inside the D.C. Beltway. I had never lived anywhere except three cities in Southern California. This was no small move for me. This was a coast to coast move for a California girl. And I did not want my life to change. I was used to Hubby traveling 50% of the year. I still wished for married friends, though I had none. I was used to life. I loved my workplace. I loved our rental house a few blocks from the beach. On the weekends we drove to see family in San Diego, Phoenix, Las Vegas, and San Luis Obispo areas. I traveled every now and then on business trips with Hubby. I had no desire for change. None. But it was inevitable. When the final news came that our move was definite, we had four months to prepare for our move. At night for nearly four months we prayed for our new life. And one consistent prayer request was to make married couple friends in our new place to call home, Northern Virginia.

Well, the story is a long one. I shared some of the story before. But the short story is that we found ourselves at a church with a class called Teammates, and first were greeted by LL and her husband. Yes, we knew them B.K., before kids. However, the majority of the class was moving out of the transient Northern Virginia area. New couples were moving in. The people that attended this class were other DINKs (double income, no kids) like ourselves. And these people were active! In February 2001, Hubs dreamed up the idea of a Hearts Tournament. We sponsored an event for the Teammates class, without really knowing anyone, except our friends, J and K. I was SO NERVOUS no one would show up. Ha ha, an answer to our four months of praying, our house was full of card players! We made so many great married couple friends from Teammates that continue to be our friends, no matter that almost none of us live in the Northern Virginia area anymore.

An hour before the tournament, Rebekah called for directions. We had never met. I told her there was no way I could give directions to our house "because I am from San Diego," which became my excuse for everything unfamiliar in Virginia. We lived not too far from the "Mixing Bowl" where the highways split into seven directions. Some go clockwise, and some go counter clockwise, and some are inner loops and outer loops. This was totally different than San Diego, where signs north point toward Los Angeles, south point toward Mexico, east point toward the mountains and dessert, and west point toward the ocean. Freeways did not make loops or circles, they were straight shots. She laughed. I couldn't tell if she was laughing at me or if she was laughing with me. Later I learned she too grew up in San Diego! So that was the start of the friendship between the Eekhoffs and the Farmers. A desire in our hearts from nearly eleven years ago to make married peers, that ended in "The Stake Out," remained with us two years later, when we moved. When we met the Eekhoffs back in 2001 we never dreamt we would live in San Diego in 2009, and our eldest children, just seven days apart, would pretend to roast marshmallows in our pool room. And if you know our mutual friend, Michelle, then you know that those marshmallow skewers are actually bamboo sticks she once gave me. And those marshmallows are actually cotton balls.

The Eekhoffs stopped by for just a few hours while in town. We had not seen them since they visited us in Hawaii a few years ago. But this time, they pulled up in a minivan alongside ours. Gone are the days of sports cars, and full are our days of loud little voices and unfinished adult sentences.

A Hawaiian Thanksgiving

Our turkey roast and pork shoulder butt were cooked in a Hawaiian imu (pronounced ee-moo). Kailua High School hosts an athletic booster club fundraiser. They invite the public to purchase a $15 ticket to cook meat in the imu. They only sell 350 tickets, and we got one!

An imu is an outdoor underground traditional Hawaiian oven. This is how pigs, fish, and other meat are cooked for luaus. The meats are cooked under heated rocks. Steam is created by the vegetation placed in the imu, from ti leaves, coconut palms, and banana leaves.

The high school asked that we bring our meats in an aluminum tin, not to exceed 25 pounds. We prepared a turkey roast and a pork shoulder butt. Pork shoulder butt is traditional Hawaiian luau food. Hubs plucked ti leaves from a ti tree in our yard.

I called my neighbor and asked if she had any sea salt. She generously shared something so much better. For many years her husband's family has collected sea salt from rocks along the beaches. Think unprocessed, completely organic, straight from the sea. The salt was fine and crumbly, not dry and grainy. We placed the pork shoulder butt in foil, and rubbed it with salt and patted it with butter.
Next we wrapped the pork in ti leaves and closed it in foil.

I hacked some small apple banana leaves from a young banana tree in our yard.


We salted, buttered, and wrapped the turkey roast in banana leaves. We could have wrapped a whole turkey. Instead we prepared two types of meats.
We added four large sweet potatoes in our aluminum tray and we wrapped the whole package in foil for drop off.

Since Kailua is on the other side of the island, on the Windward side, Hubs, Son1, and Uncle T delivered the tray after their fishing adventure. They rented a Boston whaler, bought squid for bait, and grabbed some fishing poles. They only caught some love and family time.
They hurried from the Kaneohe Bay marina to drop off our tray. The drop off time was only 90 minutes long. They waited in a line, and high school students walked up to the car, took our tray, metal tagged it, and handed the Farmer men a claim number. Hubs, being the big fan of The Farmer Files that he is, asked the student to take some pictures of the imu for the rest of us. This is the bottom layer of the imu. The meats are placed on top, and then covered for steaming.
The next morning, Hubs cooked Thanksgiving pancakes before heading out to pick up the Thanksgiving meal. Pilgrim Farmer joined us.

Hubs, Uncle T, and the boys drove to the Windward side to collect our tray after breakfast. They drove all the way home, dropped off the tray, and trekked to the airport to pick up Grandma T. Finally, we unwrapped our meats and potatoes, and served Thanksgiving dinner. I unwrapped the meats, and they literally fell limp, juicy, salted, and mouthwatering to the tray.
These are the wrapped meats just before dinner.
While I was finishing the side dishes, Walking Bear and Grandma T started growling at one another. Better at one another than the cook. Well, we plumb stuffed ourselves til we couldn't breathe. If we ever move back to Hawaii we are cooking our dinner in the imu again. This was the first time we bought an imu ticket.

We took a family walk and enjoyed the Hawaiin trade winds before dessert. This was the first time Hubby's immediate family was together for a holiday in six years. We missed Aunt M but the boys couldn't get enough of Uncle T. We are thankful this year to be together for Thanksgiving.

The Farmer Files Phones Home

It is nice to be missed! Mahalo for the comments and emails asking what happened to me. I am alive and well, and I missed you too! I have to catch up and visit many of you!

My mom was here, and The Farmer Files took a back seat. My biggest fan was back on the Big Rock, so sad I wasn't posting pictures of his sons. My mom left last night, Hubby arrived last night, and Hubby's brother comes into town today. With all of the testosterone back in the house....I am going to escape and blog a WHOLE LOT. I promise.

I was asked if I attended Abe's mom's service. My husband went, but I did not. He said Abe's eulogy was inspirational. I read it on Abe and Heather's private blog, and I too was so inspired to speak wisely and carefully to my boys. The pinewood derby hit home, because last Friday my son entered a grand prix with his race car. Here is the beautiful eulogy Abe delivered:

Today I’d like to share a short thumbnail sketch of my mom by answering two questions

1. Who was Carolyn?

2. What lessons did she teach me?

I’ll start with the first: Who was she?
Born October 8th, 1950, my mom arrived in the world with a strong curiosity for learning and a passion for helping others. She grew up with a warm, loving family in Atlanta, GA, and was fortunate to have a strong mother (my Nana Tyler), a wonderful caring sister (my Aunt Peggy), and a wild and crazy but very protective brother (my Uncle Bobby).

Growing up as one of her children was a privilege; she lavished me with love and encouragement my entire life — even calling me on the phone and encouraging me as a parent just days before her trip to Spartanburg, South Carolina.

She was not perfect, but she was a great mother, and friend.

She sought opportunities to serve and care for her family and friends continually.

After my brother and I both graduated from school, she came to Immanuel Bible Church, to work in the music ministry. She came to love her work here - she loved the people of this church, and she was energized by all of the good things going on here.

She had a gift for connecting with people and letting them know that she cared about them. Even with half a dozen things going on, if you ran into her she would suspend everything and let you know “Hey - God loves you, and I do too.”

She saw her life purpose as worshiping God - by serving others.

Understanding a little about who she was, I’d like to share three lessons she taught me.

Lesson One

I remember vividly, the many discussions I had with her when I was in high school. I wanted her to tell me what I should be but she refused.

She explained that WHAT specific role I chose would be much less important than HOW I chose to live it out. Whatever I did, I should do for God’s glory and the benefit of others. She encouraged me to pray, decide for myself, and take a leap of faith.

Incidentally, I ended up joining the Army and becoming a paratrooper. I don’t think she intended for me to take her advice so literally!

This past Christmas, she solidified her advice giving me a wooden plaque with the famous quote from Abraham Lincoln, "Whatever you are, be a good one."

Lesson Two

When I was eight years old, and playing with my friends the Hurdles, I invited my brother Dan to jump on the bed with us. After only a few bounces, he flew off the bed like a cartoon character and bonked his head into a radiator. Blood was everywhere; I screamed for help and Joan Hurdle and my mom rushed Dan to the hospital.

I was very sad, and I cried (although I did ask if I could have all of his toys). A few hours later, he returned with some stitches and a smile.

That night, my mom made it clear that Dan was going to be okay - but at the same time, I should never take loved ones for granted. She told me that I had a very important job; when I asked what it was, she said “Love your brother - everyday."

As I matured, I grew to understand a broader meaning of what she meant. I was to love my brother Dan; and I was also to love everyone with the same compassion she demonstrated.

Lesson Three

When I was a child, I attended Cub Scouts and I learned the scout motto “do your best.”

Some of you might be familiar with the Cub Scout tradition called the pinewood derby, where scouts carve wooden cars and then race them. At my first pinewood derby, I had a mechanically challenged car that barely made it down the track. (Dad, you remember!)

But my mom was so proud of me, when it was my turn to race, she stood at the sidelines and cheered for me “Do your best! Do your best Abe!” My car did so-so, but my heart was so filled up with love, I never forgot that lesson.

Throughout my youth, she always cheered me on to do my best.

At 17, I left home to attend West Point. As I suffered through the first year of hazing I remembered her words “do your best” I did - and I made it through.

At Army Airborne school, faced with jumping out of planes and completely terrified, I could hear her whispering “do your best”… and I overcame my fear of heights to become a paratrooper.

During Army Ranger School, while ascending a mountain in the Tennessee Valley Divide and struggling with a sprained ankle and over 120 pounds of equipment in the cold of winter, I could hear her “Do your best!” - I went on to climb that mountain and graduate Ranger School.

Even today, as a 34 year old man struggling with new problems and worries, I can still see her standing on the sidelines, smiling and cheering me on “Do your best. Do your best Abe!”

Whatever you are, be a good one. Love your brother. Do your best.

I am grateful for these lessons, and many others that my mother taught me. I thank God for her vibrant life, and I thank this church for remembering her and for loving her family.

Walking with Abe and Heather

Hiking Diamond Head is the one thing every one tells you to do on Oahu. Except no one tells you to hike it pregnant. But Heather didn't seem too worried. She was pregnant with her second baby, into her second trimester. We stood in the middle of the crater in the parking lot. The early morning sun was blazing hot already. Hubs was saddled with our chunky toddler in a back pack frame. We grabbed water and cameras and climbed to the mouth of the trail.

Climbing the steep trail, Hubs quickly found that the weight of the backpack on the incline was less burdensome if he kept moving. Our little guy wasn't quite a lightweight. So he and Abe kept a-climbing, while Heather and I hiked at our own pace. I could hear Heather's breath quickening as she continued to climb. I kept asking her if she wanted to stop. Most times she said no, but every now and then we would stop for some water. I was a little paranoid because we had already been to the hospital once since they arrived (oh it was necessary and eventful, but it turned out ok). I had no idea what it felt to be pregnant and making the steep climb, but I was right there with her, walking the trail. We were both going to make it to the top, one way or another.We climbed the switchbacks and finally caught the men before the 99 step staircase. Next was the spiral staircase, and a few more steps. Hubs stayed behind at the summit since the backpack wasn't going to fit. Pregnant Heather, Abe, and I made the low duck out of the the last tunnel and stood 761 feet above sea level. We had made it! We stood at the top of the crater that dominates all of Waikiki, looking 20 miles west to Barber's Point, and 9 miles to Koko Head Crater behind us. Heather was the only pregnant lady we saw. We took some pictures, admired the beauty, and began our descent. We started back down Diamond Head, down the spiral staircase, down the 99 steps, and the other tunnels. At one point, Abe offered to carry our little man. He didn't know exactly how Hubby felt making the ascent, but he had inkling because he had walked with him every step of the way. So he offered to carry little man down the trail.
We started walking with Abe and Heather in 2000. We met them in Northern VA, through an Adult Bible Fellowship. In 2003 some of our friends ran in the Marine Corps Half Marathon at Quantico. Hubs fell behind some of the faster guys in our group. Abe hung back with Hubs until they reached the finish line. He was with him every step of the way.You know how you just click with some couples? The husbands click, and the wives click, and it just works? That's how it is with Abe and Heather. I asked Hubs how that happened for him and Abe. He admired Abe's commitment to God, to his unconditional love for his wife, and who are we kidding...this is Hubs we are talking about...and his intelligence. Oooh when I met Heather I thought ohhhhh she is so like me, I want to be her friend. Well, she is like me...in a remote way I suppose. HA! But she is infamous for her, "Now, if I was a Farmer I would....but I am not a Farmer, so I will not..."

I remember our pastor in Virginia said more than once, "You pick two or three couples where you are committed to each other's marriages, and you walk with them your whole Christian life."

I looked up synonyms for walking, and here is what I found:

stride, stroll, trek, stagger, tiptoe, limp, hobble, hike, march, pace

See how many different ways there are to walk? They are all require action, though. We are committed to walking with Abe and Heather, like they have been committed to us.

Some of our walking has been carefree, and some has been emotional. We have walked with Abe and Heather. We have known births, we have known deaths, we have known stress, and we have known joy. But just as I didn't know what it felt like to hike Diamond Head pregnant, we have only an idea because we have chosen to walk with them.

Columbus Day weekend, Abe's parents were in a terrible car accident, miles from their hotel. We spent the last month praying for a miracle, praying for peace for their family, walking with them, even from 6,000 miles away. Veteran's Day, his mother was promoted to Glory, and is at Home with her Heavenly Father. Our hearts are heavy for their loss, but bittersweetly rejoice that she is no longer in pain and her soul is at peace.

I grew to know Carolyn as more than Abe's mom. She mentored me, and I grew in my marriage. She also helped me when I had trouble nursing. How we hurt for you, Abe and Heather. Know that we are walking with you.

Moon Cake

I love when dinner company brings treats! We never expect, but graciously accept!

Some friends came for dinner and brought a Chinese Moon Cake. I had never heard of Mooncake. They are a Chinese pastry eaten during the Mid-Autumn Festival. This is the second most important day in the Chinese calendar, next to Chinese New Year. It is a legal holiday in many Asian countries. It is celebrated the 15th day of the 8th month in the Chinese calendar, which is mid-September on our Gregorian calendar. Farmers celebrate the end of their harvest. Families gather and share small cakes together, and admire the full moon. Everyone gets just a little piece.
My friend is Chinese. She grew up eating moon cakes. She warned us not to expect a sweet Western type pastry. The Chinese characters for "longevity" and "harmony" decorate the top. Inside, the cake was made of red bean paste and in the center was a yolk. That's the yellow thing in the center.

The Mooncake had a unique flavor. It was really dense and heavy. I am so appreciative that my friend brought such a thoughtful treat! Hubby and I both are fascinated by customs from other cultures!

How about you? Have you learned something new about a different culture?

Hugs to Heather!

Once upon another life ago my friend Heather was a graphic artist for a government contractor. Then she was promoted to Domestic Engineer. Well lucky me, I have friends in high places. Guess who redesigned my header? I LOVE it. So leave a comment and tell her you love it, too.

I last saw Heather in the flesh two years ago. She and her Hubs came six thousand miles just to visit us. They see Hubby more often, though. He sees them whenever he is back East.

Lucky him. Sad me.

Aloha and Ahui Hou to the Harveys!

The last Harvey day was the absolute epitome of life in paradise. The sun was high and bright, the trade winds were ever so slight, they sky was picturesque, and the water was warm. We scrambled to get all three children, four adults, and all of our beach gear packed up for an early morning drive to the North Shore. We pulled into Waimea Bay Beach Park and slid into two empty spots, just as the lot filled up.

Waimea Bay is one of the top white sand beaches in the world. Our family loves Waimea more than any other beach on Oahu. It is never crowded on the sand, though the parking lot gives a different impression. The lot is on the smaller side, though. In the summer, the waters are super calm and flat, like glass. In the winter, this is the place to be. It looks completely different, with waves as high as 30 feet, and the inshore break can be up to 12 feet. Waimea Bay is a filming location for LOST and also home to the Quicksilver competition in the winter. The surf is amazing and dangerous, and also sadly, fatal. The Harveys last saw Waimea Bay when the surf was up. This time, they had a completely different experience.

We sat on the beach for just a few minutes. The water was too inviting. Since the bay has a remarkably strong under tow at the shore we swam a little farther out for calmer water.

A few guys were paddle surfing the width of the bay. Paddle surfing dates back to early Polynesia, with Hawaiian roots. The boards used are slightly different than regular surf boards. They are longer, may have more fins, have padded decks, and concave hulls. Remember what happened when we saw a paddle surfer the other day?

There was a second attempt.

We swam and enjoyed the island's warmth until the minutes on the clock ran out. Just to give you a closer look at the bay:

Right before we left, J slipped matching sarongs on herself and on little A. They were too cute!! Hawaiian sarongs are fringed on the ends, with bright colors, and usually have animals or plant prints.

We stopped in Hale'iwa (pronounced Ha-Lee-Ee-vah) for lunch. J had asked us previously about that teriyaki cheese fries place that I blog so much about. A guilty smile spread across my face when she asked, with a spatter of pleasure. Another diet cheating day!!!! It was a Grass Skirt Grill day! I have never actually shown you what this place looks like. Our favorite seats are at the far left, outside. That's where the two tables are with the longest benches. The door to the restaurant is at the extreme right. The owner of Grass Skirt Grill owns Strong Current, the surf shop next door, too. All seven of us had teriyaki cheese fries, to prove to y'all we are good parents. We devoured our cheeseburgers with 1/2 an avocado roosted on top. The kids feasted on chicken strips, but they all wanted teriyaki cheese fries!
After lunch the Harveys stopped by the Dole Plantation for a pineapple whip. J had been dreaming of one the moment she stepped off the plane. They are so wonderfully unique, we usually buy them, too, each time we ride the Dole Plantation train. And Son1 knows. He reminds us of their existence. But no pineapple whips today for the Farmers! We hurried home, lest Son2 take a mini nap in the car, and then skip his afternoon nap entirely.

The kids napped, and J and I ran out the door for some last minute shopping. She knew exactly what to buy. Some of the last things she picked up were Hawaiian Island Tea packages. These are specialty teas blended with all-natural ingredients and exotic tropical fruit flavors. The teas are so fragrant and flavorful. This is a Have to Have item if you are a tea drinker!!

We returned home, and had our last supper together, well, at least for 2008.

The Harveys loaded all of their belongings in their car, we walked them outside, and bid them Aloha Ahui Hou! (Aloha Ah-who-ee Ho!) This means, goodbye, until we meet again. It is a beautiful way to say goodbye in Hawaii. It's never really good bye. And yes, there were tears, but only for one little boy. In the 3 1/2 years we have lived in Hawaii, Son1 has cried only twice at guest goodbyes. And both times were for the Harveys. That says something.