At least, that's the way it seemed when I look back on those days of growing up in Paumalu, or Sunset Beach. To me, they were one and the same place that had two different names. Papayas and mangos, avocado and guava, tangerine, orange and fig plants. We even had a big banana patch that occupied a portion of our front yard. Cabbage, beets, onions, carrots, and the infamous bittermelon plant were all being grown in the garden. In the back where our property and the Orian's poultry farm met at the barbed-wire fence, we raised, chickens, ducks, pigs, guineas, more rabbits than I cared to count, a big cow, who not only supplied the dairy products but doubled as a horse when us kids wanted to go for a ride, and a mule, that gave up his right to stick around by trying to bite anyone that got within range of his teeth.
Even with all that growing, crowing, mooing and quacking, there was still room for lilikoi and gardenias, roses, orchids, plumeria, hibiscus and pakalana (hope I spelled that right). How dad did the nine-to-five routine at the naval base and still found time for all these other work can only be explained by the help he got from mom and us kids. It was Fermin's (my dad) piece of paradise that we all shared; the work and the rewards.
I don't think we ever had less than two dogs roaming the property, with one dog always being named "Kimo". These "poi" dogs provided the security service and the "barking-at-odd-hours-of-the-night-for-no-known-reason" wakeup alarm service. I can still hear dad yelling at them to "shut up!" That worked... sometimes... but not for long.
Aaaaah... those were the good ol' days of working in the garden, pulling weeds, hauling chicken manure from Orian's poultry farm by the wheelbarrow load and going with my dad in our old red Chevy truck to chop grass and get koa for the cow to eat.
I remember how it used to be... and how small the world seemed to be back then, in Fermin's "piece of paradise".
