I call this series "Just Vignettes" because that's what they are, just short snapshots of things that have happened to me or have been told to me. I can vouch the stories you read here are mostly true.

On a warm Ford Island evening in Pearl Harbor, a maintenance man using a firehose cleaned the beams over the exterior passageways. Little Popo was carried by the force of the water from her nursery, falling to the teak deck below. Someone found her in a puddle and picked her up, naked and wet but still alive. She was brought to me. I would dry her off, bring her home, and feed her a warm porridg...