I think we might be returning to ‘normal service’, as far as the weather is concerned. The wind was still from the northwest yesterday, but this morning, it has died down and should be breezing from the west and dropping, with the temperature rising steadily to reach the 20° mark at the weekend. Gawd. I sound like the shipping news. That’s probably because it’s all I have today; no satirical waffling, not even after a day at home completing chapter 21 of a new first draft. You know, you pick up a lot of odd facts when researching for a novel set in the past. At least, you do if you stop every few minutes to check a fact or if a word was in existence by then.
I am currently in 1894, a fascinating time for all kinds of inventions. Did you know, for example, that pinking shears were invented in 1893 (in America), the Kellogg brothers were still only developing cornflakes, and there were over 11,000 hansom cabs in London, plus all the other carriages, carts and horse-drawn vehicles leading to a massive ‘Farage’ problem on the streets? Not only were Kellogg’s developing cornflakes, but they were also coming out with the first intercom system. I suppose they go hand in hand. When the lord of the manor wanted his breakfast in 1893, not only could he not have cornflakes, but he couldn’t buzz downstairs for the maid to bring them up. Mind you, if he were that posh, he wouldn’t have had a maid to serve him, but a footman. (Not common for grand houses to have maids serve upstairs until the early 20th century.) No such luxury here. Although cornflakes are one of the still affordable breakfast items available in the supermarkets, and we do have mobile phones instead of intercommunication devices.
As for the day ahead, I intend to pop into the town hall to ask about our water supply, and we’re meeting friends for lunch in Yialos. There should be more visiting boats today. We’ve only had the Panagia for the last two days because of the wind, but the Express came through yesterday, which is a hopeful sign that shipping is returning to normal. I was chatting with Harry over the weekend. He’s working in a hotel along the coast in Rhodes, and had just done his ‘lifeguard’ training. I had to wonder why that was necessary for a station-head in a restaurant, but he meant CPR, which is more reassuring. It’s such a big place that for a waiter to reach an incident in one of the pools would be a 200-yard dash. ‘That’s two beef stiffados, one chicken with lemon, and… Oh, one moment, luv…’ (Time passes. Waiter returns dripping…) ‘And a freshly caught cod.’ You’d have thought they’d have someone nearer, and they have, apparently. Good to know the hotel is doing it right and teaching its staff CPR and other ‘hopefully never needed’ skills in preparation for when customers see the price of a gin and tonic.
We shan’t get started on prices, because there’s nothing we can do about the rising cost of living, particularly on imported goods, which, on an island, is just about everything. If Sotiris’ chickens aren’t laying, we have to buy the off-island eggs, and not only are they not as good, but they also cost a bit more. We have a philosophy of ‘If we need it and can afford it, we’ll buy it. If we want it and can’t afford it, we still buy it, we don’t. Sadly, for many items, it is cheaper to order them from Athens and have them delivered; not the basics, but other things like electrolytes for the summer months, but that’s just the way it is.
Anyway, the images today are to show the rapidly changing colours of the island at this time of year; the contrast between the grey skies of late and the blooming plants.
