I’m having that ‘end of the week’ feeling, though it’s not quite the end of the week yet – it’s Friday later morning actually. I am writing this now as I have some more work to do this afternoon, and I want to get straight on with things tomorrow morning.

I’ve got an online meeting to get to at 1.30. I don’t have to travel very far, just across the porch to the workhouse, the part of our house where I work. The editor of Lonely House and I are going to slaughter some widows and orphans, those hanging words at the bottom or top of a page that simply don’t look right. We’re aiming to do this live, via Skype and some wizardry (I’ve not done this before he has) where we can look at the same page on the screen and then chat about what to do. If you get rid of one orphan then you might create more later on you see, it saves lots of emails.

So, that’s going to be all new to me, and dandy. I hope. We should, after a couple of these sessions, have the text of the book tided up and ready to go. I just need to sort out the cover then, and the front stuff, and then get a proof copy to test quality and then… These things don’t happen overnight. But, with any luck we should be looking at a new horror novel out in the summer.

Meanwhile: dance show on Sunday, last rehearsal on Saturday afternoon for us and then we’re up and running, or up and tapping. 18:30 at the Opera House in Yialos if you are on Symi and want to come along. The weather has warmed up, we had our first breakfast on the balcony overlooking the harbour this morning; just need to get some balcony chairs sorted so we don’t have to carry the dining chairs out each time.

And we had our first water lecture in 12 years on Wednesday. The new house has a facility for catching rainwater and putting it into the sterna. So we’ve been happily using it up while the rains were here in the knowledge that the sterna was filling. It wasn’t. The pipework, of which there is a lot around here, was broken. This was only discovered recently and so on Wednesday we put the water on to start filling the tank again. So, you turn things on at the mains and in it comes. No. The dial wasn’t turning. So, you check out the pipes in the sterna cupboard to see there’s another tap there, so you turn that on and yes, the sound of running water. And the pump going. Odd.

So, you turn that off and check with the landlord who lives across the road. He comes along and turns the mains on. No. Then the tap. Yes but no. (That combination leads to the pump pumping water up from the sterna and then back into the sterna. Don’t ask me why.) And then he turns on another tap on a second pipe in the cupboard and… No. So he goes away and phones the council who say eight o’clock is the time – this was half seven. So, he comes back at eight and turns on the mains. No. And then turns off a fourth tap on a third pipe that goes up our courtyard wall and over the top of the lane. Then he pops into the sterna cupboard and turns the red tap from on to off, and the blue tap from off to on, and then the mains tap to on and hey presto! No water.

Only joking. The water does come in with that four tap combination, though it didn’t today as it was meant to; already the days are being rationed. At least the water is, though though the water boat was in the harbour as we were having breakfast. So, on water days it’s mains tap on, red tap on, blue tap off. It’s going to be a weekend for taps. And while the sterna is being filled we have no water in the taps for some reason. I don’t understand Greek plumbing! Then I don’t understand any other nationality of plumbing either.

Okay, off for my weekend now. Hope you have a good one too!

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April 29^th, the first cruise ship of the season arrives on Symi and four go mad at a dress rehearsal. Living the dream on Symi eh? Well, having fun at least.

Now then, for all you first time visitors who are preparing to head this way, whom we may meet at some point during your stay, can we get a few things sorted out?

Firstly: I’ve never understood that ‘Living the dream’ saying. People come up to me and say, ‘You’re living the dream!’ And, after I’ve recovered and asked who on earth they are, I think to myself, ‘No I’m not. If I were, I would be doing something like running through a town I’ve never seen before and yet I know intimately while talking to an old school friend I’ve never met about the house we are standing in which is growing real flowers on the wallpaper where you step through to find yourself by the sea eating chocolate chairs with no noses.’

That’s the kind of dream I have. Living the dream? You wouldn’t want to live some of mine. Others, on the other hand, you would want to live, I know I certainly would, but we shan’t get into all of that now.

Here’s another one I hear a lot from total strangers, ‘Oh, you are so lucky to be living here.’ Well, yes, when you see the trauma and tragedy and devastation and hatred and all those other non-nice things happening to people around the world, we are lucky. We are lucky to be UK citizens, believe it or not, we are lucky that the world speaks our language on the net and in the air, at sea and elsewhere, and we’re lucky that, so far, we have avoided major illness or horror. But we didn’t actually get here by luck; we didn’t wake up from one of those odd dreams to find ourselves living someone else’s dream. We made it happen. You see you can, if you try, make your own ‘luck.’

And thirdly, for those Symi newbies who will find yourself wanting to know more about Symi, here are some of the questions you will want to ask:

• What’s it like on Symi in the winter?
• Do you live here?
• Do you ever get used to the steps?
• What are the medical services like?
• Does it get cold in the winter?
• What is it really like to live on Symi?
• Where can I get the bus to Rhodes?

And so on. Well, dear yet-to-be-met fiends*, there is one simple answer: Read the books!

Symi 85600 | Carry on up the Kali Strata | Village View – all available in Kindle and proper-book form. Oh, and happy May 1st to you! Kalo Mina.

* Typo

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I guess the first advertisement of the day is for the dance show on Sunday. Organised by the Women’s Association of Symi, this is Rhiannon Wheeler dance show which features ballet, jazz and tap from children aged from three to 52, if I include myself in the tap section. Which I do. That’s at the Opera House at 6.30 pm on Sunday evening. It usually runs for a couple of hours, with an interval, and the bar will be open. I hope.

Before that though, on Friday, we have Koukoumas up at Agios Athanasios in the usual way. The local celebration of May Day and Husband Naming, this is a chance to come and see traditional Symi dances, hear traditional island songs and watch the ceremony as the unmarried girls of the village discover the name of their future husbands. That usually starts around 5.30 pm.

And also on Friday we will (apparently) be having another of those Greek crisis days the media is so fond of. Well, I don’t know what’s going on, but I suspect our government will have to change its promises, the ones they were elected on – some of which we all knew were lovely dear, but not really feasible. We shall see. But I do wish the UK press (and possibly other countries’ press) would stop scaremongering. Telling holidaymakers to bring cash only on holiday as banks might run out of money. Doh! Just stay calm, bring your usual and you’ll be fine. Well, you could bring extra as long as you spend it on local businesses, no one will mind that, but I doubt you will find a lack of notes. And if you do, well, then you’ll experience what it’s really like to live in Greece and get some bonus holiday value.

And talking of a lack of notes, I took up the flute yesterday. I was brought up with a flute in the house, my brother played it from an early age, we used to do concerts together him on flute me on whisky, I mean piano. He was an orchestral player too, appearing with the Kent Youth Orchestra one year. (Berloiz’ Te Deum, I thought it was te-tedium; sorry, not a fan.) Through my vague musical career I have had a stab at: piano, organ (church), saxophone, recorder, violin, cello, clarinet, oboe, guitar (lead and acoustic), bass, accordion and a few teachers. The only thing I’ve never managed to get a note out of is a flute.

So, with my new, second hand Boosey and Hawkes, I sat down, or rather stood up, for an hour yesterday with a few online instruction manuals and made myself very dizzy. I took up the tip of taking the mouthpiece on its own, blocking the end with a hand and blowing, and that worked, no problem. Then I did exactly the same with the mouthpiece attached to the rest of the gubbins and, nope, just a lot of air, light-headedness and frustration. But perseverance is the key, so later today another attempt will be made to get a sound from this, the (apparently) easiest of instruments to play – after the ukulele, the spelling of which is not the easiest to explain.

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Before we get started, the answer to yesterday’s ‘what novel is this quote from’ was indeed, Dracula. In this case the paperback ‘Essential’ Dracula by Leonard Wolf. I also have the hardback version, given to me by my mother on my 13^th birthday, and a limited edition collector’s version (not annotated) given to me by Jenine and Ian on my 50^th birthday. I won’t get started on the collectable Aurora horror kit model and the other Dracula stuff I have in the office. A bit of a fan. As might be Vicky Smith who was the first to get the answer – bravo you! When next on Symi you are entitled to buy a drink for a Neil Gosling of your choice.

Today though I thought I would share our balcony views with you. I was out there yesterday morning, taking a break and eating my natural yoghurt from the pot (as it was almost empty). I could smell the neighbours’ washing on the line on the roof next door, I could hear the school bell ring, the crane on the new jetty was clanking about and, a bit later, the Panagia Skiadeni arrived announcing itself from a distance like it was about to make a charge at the enemy.

And then I noticed a rather ‘off’ smell, which turned out to be one of those big purple things that come out at this time of year and I am not talking about over-sunned tourists. These ‘Judas’ plant things that smell like rotting don’t-ask and look wonderful. This one is on the bit of land next door, between us and the big mansion house.

There are other flowers around though. Just nearby are some of these white and yellow things and poppies, they stand there embarrassed by the smell their fellow plant is giving off, but we don’t mind really. The pollen is doing nothing for hay fever sufferers, nor for Neil’s cold which he’s had for a couple of days now. Here’s hoping he is better by Sunday for the dance show; dress rehearsal tonight. And that remind me I need to turn up my trousers and iron a shirt or two. Better get on with it.

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Some random photos from Friday/Saturday today while I randomly ramble on about nothing in particular.

Talking of quotes, as we were yesterday, we were out on Monday evening and I said something I thought was funny. Neil made me write it down as I always say I will remember these things and I never do. So the next morning I found this piece of paper lying around the house and on it was written:

“He shouldn’t be a man, let alone a woman.”

And I have no idea what it related to or why it was funny, and it had nothing to do with being at the kafeneion at the time; well, not too much to do with it at least. But thank you for the nice comments about yesterday’s quotes from the new book. Here’s another one, again spoken by a character and to be used as the heading for one of the chapters:

“There are very few faces in this world that I don’t find attractive, and that woman has both of them.”

It’s a bit of a reworking of the quote that sometimes pops up at the top of these pages, in one of the revolving image headers. I have some more of those to go up at some point, maybe I should add some of these quotes too. Trouble is, they don’t really mean much out of context. Here’s another one for you, but remember the story is set in the fictional seaside resort of Middlestone on Sea. I should point out to any of my old school chums, friends from Romney Marsh and my family who may be reading, that Middlestone does more than vaguely resemble Littlestone on Sea mixed with Greatstone on Sea. And the quote is:

‘A man may be tired of life when tired of London, but when a man says he is tired of Middlestone, no one is surprised.’ Walter Farley-Fairystack (Traveller and Diarist) 1835 – 1921

Obviously that one was made up by me. Here is a random quote for you to mull over. I’m heading to the book shelf opposite me and taking down a very famous novel, I am going to open it to page 284 (today being the 28^th of April) and write down the first sentence. See if you can figure out from that what the novel is. Here you go:

“Good-bye, my dear. I pray God I may never see your sweet face again. May He bless and keep you!”

And for a clue, the character is slightly barking-loony at this point. Well, he is throughout the whole story actually. No prizes, but can you guess the novel?

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