Masami found a bag of loose tobacco in her Grandma's car the other day when she borrowed it to take her paycheck to the bank. She was dumbfounded. When she got home she shared her discovery with me. Images of Grandma Beverly fiddling with cigarette papers and lighting up behind the Hawaiian Cultural Center with a group of aging ukulele players sprang unbound into my mind. Tonight, I got the real scoop from G-ma B, though, and it's nothing like that interesting or disturbing. It's for her class on Native Americans; they're making some kind of Indian medicine pouch for a class project.
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