Sunday, March 18, 2018

Vintage Hawaiian Primo Stubby Beer Bottle

Can you believe it?! One of my wishes has really come true. I have been looking around for weeks now for just the right souvenir to keep from the Island, and my husband solved the entire issue for me. Over the weekend he went over to his friend Dons, who lives in Waikoloa Village. (dry side of the Big Island of Hawaii.) While there, he and Don, and their friend Zig, decided to go out on a wild goat hunt. They had a great time and Don even got a goat. But what really made my day was my husband finding an old bottle and bringing it back home for me.

Now you may recall, if you have been following my blog, that some time ago he was also out on a hunt and brought me an old bottle. Turns out it was a glop-top whiskey bottle dating from the 1890's. Now while this bottle doesn't date back that far, it still has a fun history, and had been sitting exactly where someone tossed it on the lava for almost 60 years.

Here is a google shot of the general area of the hunt site. It was out on the old Mauna Loa lava flow that lies between Hwy19 and Hwy 190, south of Waikoloa Village.
They took this right on a gravel side road, off of Hwy 190, and drove back into the flow. Apparently goats abound there.
 After driving for several miles along this rough gravel road, they all got out and hiked through the lava flow. Above you can see a deep pocket of a hole in the flow where some tree's are growing. This was their destination.
 Here is my husband, Gregg, relaxing in that very same hole, under the shade of the tree's. Zig's nice crossbow has also found a good resting place.
 He had been enjoying this view of the nearby ocean. Check out that lumpy terrain. It looks like a real ankle breaker to me.
You can see just how rough the road is too in this picture. Here comes Don carrying a goat he has shot with his crossbow. Zig is in the foreground, with his back turned, also trying to capture the moment.
I can imagine by now the goat was getting pretty heavy. It looks like Zig is going to go help Don carry the goat. I don't envy Don the carrying of that goat over the old lava one single bit.
Nope! Zig takes his crossbow, but doesn't get his goat. ha ha ha Sorry! This just looked like a, "get your goat", joke moment. Poor little goat!

By the way, before anyone gets all angry, wild goats are a serious problem in Hawaii. They are there by the thousands and hunting them helps reduce the population, feeds people, and lowers their negative impact on the habitat, which helps the local ground nesting birds, like Nene's. (The Hawaiian native goose.) Plus, they taste really, really good!
Anyway, back to my story. My husband meanwhile had removed himself from his reclining position, and was walking back to the truck. Just before he reached the road he see's this bottle cluttering up the place, so he picks it up and puts it in the back of Don's pickup, to bring it home for recycling. I am so glad my husband likes to clean things up. I'm also amazed the bottle survived the ride over that nasty bumpy gravel road back to Don's, which it did with barely a scratch. Here it is, isn't it a beauty?! There is something about its shape I really like. It's got to be that stubby neck which reminds me of an old cork ink bottle.
Gregg showed the bottle to the guys and I must thank you Zig for mentioning you thought it might be an old Hawaiian Primo stubby beer bottle. You were so right! This bottle was made back in the early 1960's, and looked just like the bottle labeled above. It was a beer made locally by the Hawaii Primo Beer Company, and was a favorite of Hawaiians. It also was the inspiration for all kinds of Hawaiian shirts and other souvenirs. 

Here are just a few colors the Primo Beer shirts came in. These date from the 1960's and if you are interested in one of them, you can find them on Etsy for a mere $199.99.

Now my bottle is nowhere near worth that much, but it still will be cherished by me as a real momento of our years living on the Island and the adventure's of my husband, out on his hunts with friends.

Monday, March 12, 2018

Let Your Light So Shine - Poem

Once in a while you find a fellow on Youtube that really brightens your day. Jon Townsend is one of those people. He has made a business of making 18th century clothes and accoutrements which are in themselves outstanding. But when you watch Jon he takes you back to those childhood friends like Mr. Rogers and Bob Ross. Their sense of joy and fun is so sincere that you can't help wishing to be a better person, and emulate them.

                                              Jon with his lanterns.

I so enjoyed his video on 18th century lanterns I wanted to share it. It inspired me to modify a poem I like, by Lon Woodrum, that I thought just suited Jon to a T.

Let You Light So Shine

I met a stranger in the night,
whose lamp had ceased to shine.
I paused and let him light his lamp from mine.
A tempest sprang up later on,
It shook me all about.
And when the wind was gone my lamp was out.
But then returned the stranger,
His lamp was glowing fine.
He held the precious flame and lighted mine.
I went to thank the stranger,
but lo, he was not there.
I had served an Angel unaware.

Jon Townsend And His Lanterns

Sunday, March 11, 2018

Meet The Pipp's Leghorn

Here I remain waiting not so patiently for my house to sell. In the meantime, I thought I would share a little ditty I came up with inspired by some of my stuffed animals. A collection of which I really enjoy, but has been expanding over the years at a prodigious rate.

The Pipp's Leghorn, for so I have named them, are a silly flock of nine chickens that are packed away now, but used to reside in my studio. I named them all Pipp so that when I call them they all come running, and I don't have to wear out my voice calling them all by separate names. Sadly, there are only nine Pipp's, and after you have finished reading this, you will know the reason why.

Poor Pipp Ten was just one of those chickens who couldn't behave. He had a wandering foot, a hen in every yard, a very loud voice, and a tendency to use it at all hours. So after many hard chases on foot, all around the neighborhood, trying to curtail his mischief, I sent him to live out on the farm. Sadly I hear, far from curing his ways, he stirred up such a ruckus the farmer ran out of patience. So Pipp Ten left the farm in a wire cage, having met his final calling. The local Chicken Pickin' News said, "At last he was a delightful chicken to the end." Be that as it may, even for all of his mischief, he will be sorely missed by the other Pipp's and me, and I feel a bit guilty for sending him out to the farm.

                                                            The PIPP'S LEGHORN

                                                                     One Pipp    
                                                                    Two Pipp's
                                                                 Three Pipp's
                                                                   Four. Four Pipp's
                                                                 Five Pipp's
                                                                Six Pipp's more.
                                                                  Seven Pipp's
                                                                  Eight Pipp's
                                                                 Nine Pipp's, then,
               One more Pipp would make it ten. But Pipp Ten will be no sire,
                                          He became a chicken fryer.    ...Sad Story...