I’m not staying long. It’s chucking it down out there, and the wind’s a bit blustery, so I’m staying inside in the warm getting some work done. Neil’s planning to go to the gym, but some days… Well, it’s safest to stay home. I haven’t actually been out to look at the sky or the view as yet. All the shutters are closed, and if I go into the courtyard, my slippers will get soaked. We’re meant to be going out this evening as a friend is leaving on Friday, and luckily for us, we’re only planning to go to the Rainbow Bar which is a short walk away.
What it looks like out there right now (probably)
Assuming we do end up there, we’ll be treated to the usual evening at the local: two TVs on at the same time, often playing different shows, but sometimes, for no explicable reason, both showing the same thing; Yiannis may make us an omelette, as that’s one of his winter ‘things’, and we’ll sit behind the pillar away from the drafts. Or is that draughts? I can never remember or be bothered to check. That’s why I have a proofreader for my books, and she’s about to get another one. A collection of short stories based around my Clearwater characters. 45,000 words long, and when ready, it will be free to members of my Facebook Group, and on sale for everyone else.
Just thought I’d slip that advert in there. Now, I must slip off to the kitchen to make another cup of tea, and on the way, I’ll poke my head out of the door to see what the sky is doing. Dropping rain, most likely.
I was just looking through my photos for this time last year and saw that the village Christmas lights were already up by the end of November. I came home in the dark last night but don’t remember seeing them, and the photo I took may have been from slightly later in the month, but I can see the triangular trees of Yialos from the balcony already, so it looks like the decorating has begun.
When we first moved here, you could, as Neil puts it, ‘Blink and miss Christmas,’ because it was a much quieter affair than it is now. By which I mean, few houses were decorated for the season, and there were fewer adverts for Christmas consumables on the television. There are more trees, sleighs and snowflakes adorning houses these days, more TV hype for gifts of all shapes and sizes, and definitely more decorations around the village (when they go up).
November 2022
We were also having different weather, of course, because that’s always changing, but there were still plenty of clear, sunny days that may look warm in the photo, but, like now, were cold. I was, as I still am, in my office with the shutters closed and the curtain drawn to keep out some drafts, and with my mind set to ‘create’ as I plough through research books and notepads, and I work on my next creation. In this year’s case, it’s a set of short stories held together by an overarching short story set on a train. This is to be a new series of spin-offs from my Clearwater, Larkspur and Delamare series of Victorian mysteries, and it is due out in a couple of weeks. In the absence of anything else to show you, I’ll share the cover with you, and let you wonder if you recognise any of the characters.
Not only has it been a little ‘parky’ this past couple of days, it’s also had something to do with plants. First, for anyone not familiar with Victoria Wood and the word ‘parky’, it’s an informal British word for cold, usually associated with the north of England. I woke up shivering yesterday morning and had to hunt out a coat to wear because I didn’t want to return to the bedroom and wake Himself. Later, we set up the heaters and hung the curtain across the sitting room balcony doors where the shutters have been closed since we had a west wind on Saturday. On Sunday, according to Windfinder.com, the wind was up to force seven and from the northwest, and when I checked the thermometer in the courtyard, it read ten degrees, whereas a couple of days ago, it was eighteen. The weather is due to calm and become warmer again, leading to rain from Wednesday through to next Monday, off and on. Again, according to Windfinder.
I’m now at the point of sounding like a weather channel, so let’s talk about plants.
It started on Friday evening when we went to Scena for a pizza, and very nice it was too. I was sitting facing the bar when I noticed someone was looking back. On closer examination later, I discovered the vase was designed to look like a face, so I wasn’t being paranoid.
That put me in mind of doing a plant update, so I took some shots of the things we have in the courtyard. Neil’s been gradually cutting back the vine, but there’s still a little more to do when the weather allows, and some of the other plants have also had a trim. On the whole, they survived the excess heat of July and August reasonably well, and are now adjusting to the winter cold. Ain’t we all? We have a hibiscus that gives me cause for concern. It suddenly did rather well this year, too well in fact, and had loads of flowers. So many flowers that it became rather Victorian, popped out a stream of ‘children’ but most didn’t survive infancy, and the flowers died as they began to bloom. It probably needs a bigger pot, but it isn’t getting one, so it will have to do what poorer families did in Victorian times and survive the best it can in its cramped surroundings.
Flowering HPC with seed pod.
The others are battling on ‘Heavy Plant Crossing’ is still flowering. It’s called that because it’s in a heavy pot and as it grows, it crosses the laundry wall. ‘Jenny’ (a present from a friend called Jenny) suffered in the heat this year and had to be cut back. It’s now coming back on a smaller scale but needs to be moved somewhere more sheltered. The chilli family, currently feeling the chill, did well in some branches, but some of the plants were overwatered, so the leaves turned yellow. Neil cut them back, and they are growing like mad again already. The Anniversary plant has had a strange career so far. Now, it looks like it did when I bought it in September, but between times, it lost all its leaves just after moving in, and I thought it was a goner. I think it was just changing clothes to suit its new environment.
People don’t like too much reality on a Monday morning, so I’ll not bleat on about the other plants. I can save that for another day, but here are the objects in question, so you can look at them and join us in our suddenly-ten-degrees courtyard which, after the weekend’s winds, needs a good tidying.
The Anniversary plant. No idea what it is.Battered chilli anyone?Heavy Plant Crossing.
I’m having one of those days when I think it’s the day it isn’t. Today is not Saturday, it’s Friday, but I’ve been pottering around thinking, ‘I need to do my Jackson Marsh blog this morning,’ as I do every Wednesday and Saturday, only to realise I’m on the wrong day. Oops, better witter on about something vaguely relevant to the Symi Dream blog…
Luckily for me, Neil is now in the habit of going to Yialos most days of the week to do his gym thing and pick up anything that’s needed from the shops, bank, post office and other amenities we don’t have up here, and while he’s there, he takes some quick photos to share with you. Yesterday, as you can see, we had a cruise ship come in and float about all day while its lifeboats ferried passengers to and fro, and people explored the range of closed tourist shops, the few open tavernas, and the many open cafés. Neil met a couple on the bus who were heading up to explore Horio, and that’s always good to see because although there’s not a huge amount of shopping to be done up here, there is a lot to see and experience.
Talking of shopping, I’ve been having a tricky time trying to get a package from Germany. I ordered something back on the first of October, and it was sent by courier. The DHL service comes with tracking, so I kept an eye on it all the way from a place with sixteen syllables to Athens, and the depot there. Not long now, I thought on October 16th when it was logged as in the country/destination area of delivery. I waited, and waited, and checked the tracking… the shipment was processed on the 16th, and again on the 19th (twice), and on the 25th, the tracking told me it couldn’t be delivered. We often get a courier message like that, and usually, it means the delivery is with the local agent, but in this case, apparently not. The DHL message said they couldn’t find my address and the thing would be sent to the nearest post office. Perfect. Then, on the 31st, and again on the 1st of November, the shipment was in a parcel centre. No idea where. On the 7th it was being returned to sender because of an ‘address error,’ and on the 15th was on its way back to Germany, where it arrived on the 16th.
Meanwhile, I’d contacted the seller, but heard nothing. I’d tried to find my way through the maze which is the DHL ‘contact us’ process, one which insists on sending you back to where you started every time to think you’ve found the contact form, and I’d contacted the seller a second time. Today, I wrote again and asked about getting a refund. We shall see. If all else fails, I will have to phone them, but using the phone is something I hate doing more with each passing day, and I’m not sure whether I’ll get anyone who speaks English, because I certainly can’t speak German. There again, if that’s all I have to worry about…
Anyway… Off into the ‘weekend.’ Having thought today was tomorrow, I find myself with an extra day, although I haven’t, and I have no plans after this evening apart from working, writing, and possibly rummaging about upstairs to find the duvet. Still, no need for the heaters to go on, but we’re getting closer as the northerly breeze brings down the temperature. Now, I should go and prepare my author’s blog for tomorrow in case I wake up thinking it’s December or something, so have a good weekend.
(The title sounds like an episode of The Hobbit, but that’s not what this is.)
Yesterday was interrupted. It’s happened before — having an interrupted day, I mean. Once, it was by a boat, on another occasion, a child, but yesterday was interrupted by a wardrobe.
Not long after we moved here, we were entertaining a couple for lunch up at the house by Ag Triada when someone’s phone rang. It was a request to lend a hand with a boat launch. Lunch was almost finished anyway, and after it, we bustled off down to Pedi to experience the thrill of helping to get a boat out of the water so it could have its bottom scraped, or something. All very ‘island’ and interesting for a couple of newbies, and our lunchtime dessert ended up becoming a couple of beers at a kafeneion.
A few years later, we were living at our second house, and settling in for a winter afternoon of TV watching when the phone rang, or pinged, or did whatever phones did before smartphones played symphonies. Crackled, I expect, or tapped out some Morse code. Anyway, our godson, Harry, had gone missing and as he was only a toddler, it was something of a worry. Not that much of a worry, because around here, you know someone will look out for him, but still, there are ruins to fall into and other hazards facing a young explorer, so, a village-wide search was instigated. The awol bambino was later discovered making himself at home in Wendy’s house, and afternoon order was restored.
Yesterday, we were preparing ourselves for the final part of a TV series when the phone chimed out its Mozart sonata, or whatever it plays these days, and we were summoned to assist. We knew this was on the cards, but thought it was to happen later in the day. You see, the Nireus Hotel is selling off everything it has within its walls. I’m told it’s currently open house for anyone to go and have a look at the furniture and some fittings, and buy whatever one might need. A friend had bought a wardrobe and it had been delivered to the lane beside the supermarket. We hurried down to find a double-door thing hanging around on the street corner, accepted Sotiris’ offer to use his sack trolley, and set about our work. Ian was with us, and between the three of us, after a little Laurey and Hardy dumb show, we took the doors off, and carted the rest of the thing down the lane, around behind the Kali Strat Restaurant, to its destination. Fine when you’re on the flat, but very little is flat around here, and there are some adverse cambers to negotiate, not to mention the steps.
As before, that interruption ended in a dessert of a few hours at the bar as a thank you, and, despite it being November 15th, we sat outside in the warm. Yesterday was a grand day. Hot when I went for a walk, and mild enough come evening to still suit the café society. Since the boat interruption, we have moved house twice, and now, our godboy Harry* is sixteen and studying for his grade four piano, so times have moved on, yet, we still have days that are interrupted by furniture, vessels and other things. In a way, that’s what the winter season is all about.
* I was going to abbreviate this, but it would have been GBH, which I thought inappropriate.
And back to the evening, where half a musical was in order…
