Saturday, April 23, 2011


eastertime is hectic in this part of the world. It is the major holiday of the year, and most people go whole hog with church every day of the holy week, fasting and lamb on a spit on sunday.
Easterday is called "Lambri" which means bright, and the 40 days (49, actually) of Lent are also spring cleaning time, the village gets whitewashed, inside and out
families get together to celebrate, mostly in the countryside, and anyone with some land roasts lamb over an open fire, on a spit
in Athens it happens sometimes on the balconies..
it does seem as if the land itself is celebrating, glorious sun, flowers, grasses, trees in flower
I don't go to church, but it is not possible to ignore the surge of is wonderful, really
the son is here from Poland with his dad
with a very clear wish to do the roasting thing
so I've gone traditional (again) this year, preparing a homeric feast and tomorrow I'm lighting a fire

Telemaco went to church on tuesday and came back intrigued.."they were talking about a whore" he said..(it is the day they tell about Mary Magdalene)

bundling eggs was fun, madder and onion skins and lots of little leaves and flowers
having coffee with a friend, getting frustrated when the thread wouldn't stay where I wanted it to:
"the problem with eggs is that they are round"
"how would you want them to be?"
"rectangular and flat"
"hens would need a trapdoor.."

Monday, April 11, 2011

Back, sort of

I'm back in a way..
The tent was pitched, in the middle of a huge "square" in the city of Kerkyra on the island of corfu
I haven'y had time since Thursday to upload the fotos
There were moments of bliss, the tent full of people listening, entranced, to stories
There were moments of exhaustion ..driving the van by a river in the mountains..8 hrs drive..arriving to find there was no provision for electricity(how else would the drill work? or would we be hammering into tarmac, 45 holes?) and then the police hadn't been notified so we had to stop until that got sorted out..
and then having to be there, watching, guarding, telling, cleaning rugs and pillows for 16 out of 24 hours
but it was all ok in the end,
more than ok
yes, I believe in magic
storks clacking away in their treetops at dawn
a tiny bird stealing wool from a flokati rug to line its nest
the lizard that stood guard next to me for hours looking at the tent from its stone, there in the park
the children talking to the genie of the lamp, they saw it, they really did
the swallows swooping and crying to each other every morning and evening
the people from morocco and afganistan and albania who gathered in and around the tent to tell me their stories after everyone had left
Thodoris and Alekos who catered for an "official" event in the tent who fed anyone who asked for food after the mayor and the ambassadors had had their fill of couscous and hummus
the way the young men looked at the meat before making the courage to ask for some
oh the stories I heard...
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