Continuing the Christmas build-up theme, here’s a photo of some of the lights in the village square. The ones I showed you yesterday, going along the lane, now go all the way to Taverna Zoi, so we have a twinkling path all the way from Georgio’s to the ‘American’ supermarket. Walking that way last night, Neil reflected on how many businesses there used to be along the lane, what with the bookshop, clothes shop, seamstress, cobbler, toy shop and others all now gone. Only some have been replaced by new businesses, while other premises stay closed. There’s some work going on in what was the household shop run by Mr Plastic as some called him (because of the things he used to sell), which then became the butchers’ shop (not the new one, the boys are still there and doing well), but I’m not sure what the work will be leading to.
As for everyone else, the bars are open, Scene is the place to be if you want late-night live music at the weekend along with a pizza, or a film on Tuesday night or just a place to meet while your children play in the park beside the café. Work continues in the new car park below, while everything else chugs along nicely.
It was a quiet weekend in our house; writing, pottering around on off jobs, and then, Neil doing a Sunday lunch, which was perfect as always, followed by a couple of films on TV. There was some writing in there somewhere, and some Christmas sorting with a few presents wrapped, and the tree up. I’ll show you a photo one day soon, it’s hilarious.
The village Christmas lights are up along the main lane, at least up to the old pharmacy. I’m not sure if they are going to go any further, but the last time I saw them, that’s as far as they’d gone, and they looked great. I saw them on our way to Scene for supper on Friday (to welcome the traveller home). I know it’s not exactly Blackpool, for which we’re all mightily grateful, but it’s cheery.
Talking of Blackpool, ‘Noted for fresh air and fun’, if you remember your Stanely Holloway monologues (The Lion and Albert). We went there years ago, in early December, to see the Christmas lights, which we did. We also saw young men being carried drunk into pubs at nine in the morning, and the ‘girls’ over from Liverpool who entertained us as much as we entertained them. We did the Pleasure Beach (‘The Big One’ was the most recent ride at the time), saw the cabaret show, rode in a landau, and stayed in probably the seediest B&B imaginable. Oh, and the ‘direct’ train home took something like four days, crawling through England’s green and pleasant hills via all manner of towns and villages I’d never heard of and no one got off at, and delivered us back to Brighton… eventually.
Well, there’s none of that going on here. The train is packed away for winter, but the lights are out and up. Any of our beeches is a pleasure beach, and luckily, we have ‘no wrecks and nobody drownded,’ but ‘plenty to laugh at’, as Mr Holloway said in his recital. Just not the Christmas lights, because they’ve only appeared over the last few years and we don’t want to scare them away.
We put the oven on so rarely, when we do, we make the most of it. Neil’s Yorkshire puddings were spectacular.
I was reminded of a scene in The Golden Girls… The ladies are talking about a specific sound, and Blanche explains that when she hears rain tapping at her window she takes a shower and changes into her special nightdress, and… “Oh, when you hear rain tapping at your window. I thought you said Wayne.”
No Wayne for me, only the rain, overflowing from the roof and pouring off across the street via the gutters. I fell asleep without my earplugs in, so that was me at 4.30 this morning, lying there enjoying the sound, which encouraged me to get up and go more than I wanted to get up and go, if you get what I mean and where I was going. Still, not too much leakage inside, just the mysterious bathroom which has to be the roof, so that’s now higher on my list of must dos than ‘when I get around to it.’
Today’s wet beginning rounds off another week of weather warm enough not to necessitate the heating (for too long). Neil is on his way home and is currently in the land of Nod at the Castellum Suites in Rhodes. I have a message to send a message when I get up, which I have done, but if there’s no reply by the time I’ve done this, I’ll have to ring. I assume he’s after the 8.00 boat. That’s today’s highlight.
The village ‘high street’
There’s a wedding taking place this weekend, and I heard last night’s fireworks even through the closed shutters and thunderstorm. Let’s hope things improve and the sun shines. For me this weekend, no weddings, but hopefully, I’ll get some writing done. I have the cosy Christmas anthology of short stories coming out next week, then I can get back to my next instalment in my ongoing series. Other than listening to all of Neil’s travel tales, catching up no news, and maybe seeing the family on Sunday for lunch, I’ve nothing planned, but lots to look forward to.
Another quiet day at home yesterday, staying in and dry as the island spent much time under rain clouds. The rain showed up an interesting anomaly in the bathroom; a puddle of rainwater beneath the window. Ah ha! ‘Tis the window which leaks,’ methinks, but, no. I felt the tiles around and beneath the window. Dry. The ceiling above, and all of the nearby walls. Dry. Window frame. Dry. In fact, everything was dry apart from the water collecting on the floor, no drips. Nothing. So where on earth is that coming from? The roof has no cracks, and the paint looks sound. All very odd, but nothing major, so on with life we go.
But I’m not going very far today. I have the proofs of the new books to check through, and if all is well, approve, so I can get the necessary files to upload over the next day or so. Then, I have some housework to see to ahead of Neil’s return avrio, piano lesson, and… That’s it. ‘Avrio’, by the way, is Greek for ‘Tomorrow’ and one of those words I use in text messages because it’s quicker to write than English. I started using words like avrio as Greeklish shorthand with friends I knew would know what I meant, and now, sometimes, I can’t think of the English word, only the Greek. Dimos (Town Hall) is another one. ‘I have to go to the Dimos,’ my message or I would say, and that makes sense, as that’s what the building/department is called. It’s actually το Δημαρχείο, ‘to Dimarxeon’ or ‘to Dimarcheio’ depending on how you transliterate the letter χ, but Dimos is simpler.
Yesterday morning
There are other words, but it’s too early in the morning to think of them, and I’ve woken up with a very obscure song from a pretty unusual musical stuck in my head. It concerns Mrs Overall from Acorn Antiques the Musical, which I watched over a week ago, and good though the show is, having just three lines of one song going around and around in your head from wakeup to whenever is something of a trial. So, I’m blocking that out, and I’m going to pame (go). I must get on with this book, then later, think about some light shopping, run the duster around the shelves, see if the washing’s dry, sweep the courtyard if it’s not too wet, tidy up a bit and think about shopping for quartermaster’s supplies ready for the boss’ return. The return may be on the Dodecanese catamaran tomorrow morning, or the evening Blue Star. I don’t suppose there’s a need to book a ticket for either at this time of year, so there’s no rush. It can all be done avrio.
Apparently, it’s going to be raining all day today. I’ve seen lightning over Turkey already, but it’s still too dark to assess the clouds. Keen to give you my near-daily weather report, I checked out windfinder.com and the next few days look to be wet, with a break over Saturday and Sunday. That would be handy as there’s a big village wedding taking place this weekend, and it would be nice for the couple if the weather was as good as it has been of late.
It’s one of the things about living in a small place, on a small island and for so long. I don’t know the groom all that well, enough to say hello to, chat about nothing in particular, and pass the time, but I can remember him from when he was twenty years younger and still at school. It’s something of a privilege to watch people grow up in this way, which is why, maybe, I go on about our godboys so often. One of them is currently in Rome on his first out-of-country solo visit (he’s with a friend), and the other is practicing for his first piano recital (family only, Boxing Day), and both are turning into fine young men. Won’t be long before they’ve both finished school, college, and military service and are off to change the world.
On the other side of the coin, I am turning into one of those older gateposts of the place; the thing that’s been there ‘since I was born’ and who ‘must be getting on a bit by now.’ One of the ‘old’ men who sit in the same seat at the same kafeneion for the same coffee (or iced tea) at the same time. Someone the school children say hello to as they pass in the way they greet any adult who has always been there. But that’s also nice, in a way.
Enough of that. I have a day of typing ahead, some piano playing later, and an evening of reading. Meanwhile, for everyone who likes to be on ‘chicken watch’, here’s the slightly blurred view from our kitchen yesterday. I swear, more stray chickens use the lane than vehicles.
