Soaking the soil before adding dirt.
A few tomato plants
Laboring Away!
Sweaty but triumphan!
April 13, 2010
Jen's Garden Part Deux
I would just like to add that I have never seen such small leaves bring a single woman such immeasurable happiness. Upon approaching the garden store, you could see the anticipation on her face and then as we were leaving, there was a mile wide smile that lasted all day. Hopefully, her collection will grow quite nicely with the green thumb touch that she surely has. I was mainly responsible for some shoveling and transporting of the manure, the rest was all Jen. She is quite the gardener and we look forward to some tasty home grown produce!
April 12, 2010
Getting Settled
Paros beautiful Paros. Wait, what? There is work to be done in paradise?
So as you all can see, we have not blogged in a while. And the reason is we have been so damn busy since we have gotten here. Easter was a blur because there were so many of Stu's friends in town and we had dinner party after dinner party lined up. Our dance cards were full.
And after everyone started leaving the island to continue their lives after Easter we realized that we had a ton of work to do around the house.
Starting with the garden, which was in pretty good shape, but needed a bit of help. Stu bought a power saw from the store and in typical cave man fashion was cutting anything he could find. Branches that needed to come down, dead palm leaves, and just plain old trimming. I started pulling weeds, watering, and sweeping. But left the place looking quite nice. I will be taking pictures this week for Helene who will be proud to see her garden looking great and in full bloom.
Then there was the inside of the house, which was very clean, but needed a few touches. As everyone knows by now, I am allergic to cats. The house is a place for cats to curl up when they can sneak in during the summer, leaving behind a trail of dander on everything. And in turn left me sneezing for days. Everyday we tackled something new. We were washing any linens we could find to get the dander out, beating out pillows, dusting and sweeping again and again. As of now, I am not longer walking around with tissue in hand. We have de-catified the house thoroughly.
Then there was the shopping. And more shopping. We bought linens for the beds, a few basic kitchen goods, fuses, coffee cups, and have been back to the hardware store more than a few times. I am surprised they don't know us by name. Now we have all the essentials. A big thanks to Janet, the lovely house keeper, who took us around in her car while we purchased enough stuff to keep us busy fixing up the house for the next month. Can't leave out grocery shopping where we spend 200 euro, came home and unloaded our goods, and the fridge and pantry still looked bare.
And the most important part of this post, my garden. Well it's really a little unclaimed section of Helene's, but I like to think of the tiny portion of land as mine for now. Today we went to the garden shop and bought beautiful manure. Wonderful sweet manure to make all my plants grow big and strong. After a ton of shoveling, and tilling, and mixing dirt and shit, I planted tomatoes, eggplant, zucchini, cucumbers, lettuce, cherry tomatoes, a ton of herbs. There was actually a bit of space left for more, so maybe i will hit up the garden store again this week!
And very slowly learning Greek as well. Can't forget that part.
Yassou (goodbye and hello in greek)
So as you all can see, we have not blogged in a while. And the reason is we have been so damn busy since we have gotten here. Easter was a blur because there were so many of Stu's friends in town and we had dinner party after dinner party lined up. Our dance cards were full.
And after everyone started leaving the island to continue their lives after Easter we realized that we had a ton of work to do around the house.
Starting with the garden, which was in pretty good shape, but needed a bit of help. Stu bought a power saw from the store and in typical cave man fashion was cutting anything he could find. Branches that needed to come down, dead palm leaves, and just plain old trimming. I started pulling weeds, watering, and sweeping. But left the place looking quite nice. I will be taking pictures this week for Helene who will be proud to see her garden looking great and in full bloom.
Then there was the inside of the house, which was very clean, but needed a few touches. As everyone knows by now, I am allergic to cats. The house is a place for cats to curl up when they can sneak in during the summer, leaving behind a trail of dander on everything. And in turn left me sneezing for days. Everyday we tackled something new. We were washing any linens we could find to get the dander out, beating out pillows, dusting and sweeping again and again. As of now, I am not longer walking around with tissue in hand. We have de-catified the house thoroughly.
Then there was the shopping. And more shopping. We bought linens for the beds, a few basic kitchen goods, fuses, coffee cups, and have been back to the hardware store more than a few times. I am surprised they don't know us by name. Now we have all the essentials. A big thanks to Janet, the lovely house keeper, who took us around in her car while we purchased enough stuff to keep us busy fixing up the house for the next month. Can't leave out grocery shopping where we spend 200 euro, came home and unloaded our goods, and the fridge and pantry still looked bare.
And the most important part of this post, my garden. Well it's really a little unclaimed section of Helene's, but I like to think of the tiny portion of land as mine for now. Today we went to the garden shop and bought beautiful manure. Wonderful sweet manure to make all my plants grow big and strong. After a ton of shoveling, and tilling, and mixing dirt and shit, I planted tomatoes, eggplant, zucchini, cucumbers, lettuce, cherry tomatoes, a ton of herbs. There was actually a bit of space left for more, so maybe i will hit up the garden store again this week!
And very slowly learning Greek as well. Can't forget that part.
Yassou (goodbye and hello in greek)
April 4, 2010
Jen's First Testicle
Quite the gripping headline, I know. Sex does sell, but really this is about Jesus. And meat, lots of meat.
Easter Sunday is quite the affair in Greece. There is an enormous amount of religious presence involved on this holy day. Everyone supposedly has been fasting since Friday and are eagerly awaiting Saturday midnight when they can finally have a feast.
We did not arrive in time to attend the Church ceremonies, but we did get to attend the Metaxa's annual Easter party. Alexandra, whom Jen has met before, is my long time friend and one of my favorite people in general. She is a Parian by birth and a world citizen through a rich and diverse heritage and studies abroad.
The Metaxa's had prepared a feast, a particularly Greek one at that and an extraordinary way to introduce Jen to a number of locals. The feast involved grilling two slaughtered lambs on a spit over open charcoals, along with a number of other tasty dishes of salads, potatoes, "Greek" guacamole and an abundance of Parian wine.
Xhronia Polla! = Many Years and a typical expression used during Easter and other holidays.
Easter Sunday is quite the affair in Greece. There is an enormous amount of religious presence involved on this holy day. Everyone supposedly has been fasting since Friday and are eagerly awaiting Saturday midnight when they can finally have a feast.
We did not arrive in time to attend the Church ceremonies, but we did get to attend the Metaxa's annual Easter party. Alexandra, whom Jen has met before, is my long time friend and one of my favorite people in general. She is a Parian by birth and a world citizen through a rich and diverse heritage and studies abroad.
The Metaxa's had prepared a feast, a particularly Greek one at that and an extraordinary way to introduce Jen to a number of locals. The feast involved grilling two slaughtered lambs on a spit over open charcoals, along with a number of other tasty dishes of salads, potatoes, "Greek" guacamole and an abundance of Parian wine.
The ladies gossiping over a lamb spit. Delightful.
There was a number of people there, ranging from some old friends, to a lot of the island long time residents. There was a great mix of international citizens, artists, musicians, retirees, teachers, students, babies and more.
A man played a Greek bouzouki and sang after the meal.
Eating with hands is required. Viking/Caveman resemblance optional.
The food was really something else and everything was delicious. Good conversation flowed with along with the wine and many were having a field day. Especially the Greeks. I was rather envious of the songs they were able to share and culture that is distinctly theirs. But why am I blabbering on about all this? You clicked this link for testicles and you shall not be disappointed. Jen was "lucky" enough to be chosen to eat a piece of the lamb's testicle, a delicacy in Greece. While many do think the testicles are a rare and delicious treat, I find that is more common to initiate a chosen few, particularly non-Greeks who are not familiar with such "delicacies" and seeing who will persevere and who will perish in the cage match of culinary arts. Or just for a laugh. You be the judge.
Xhronia Polla! = Many Years and a typical expression used during Easter and other holidays.
A day of Chaos
After a late night out watching the dervishes whirl, an action filled adventure, we awoke in a daze at 7 in the morning. Jet lag still seems to be chasing at our heels, as we are both exhausted and confused about what time it is. We grabbed our bags, already neatly packed and threw them into the van waiting downstairs. Off to the airport we headed to catch our flight to Athens.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly. We arrived at the airport early, we had our passports, and we had all our things ready for check in. Wait... a bag was missing. Yes, I left my camera bag somewhere between the hostel and the airport.
And then panic set in. My camera! The lenses! All the money I saved to purchase the items! All the plans I had to take pictures throughout our trip started to seem like a faint wish. The bag was gone, and chances of me getting it back where slim to none.
Then, as quick as a stock market crash, Stu and I jumped into action. This was not emotional, it was a task that needed to be completely as quickly as possible. And thanks to our NYC mentality we came up with the following objectives.
1. Locate the bag.
2. Get the bag in our hands before we get on that plane.
List of Actions Taken.
First: Call the hostel. Ask if bag was there. The front desk attendant, who was so kind, said it was not.
Next: Locate the driver of the shuttle that took us to the airport to see if the bag was in the van. We asked the desk attendant at the hostel to call the shuttle office to locate the driver. We would have done it ourselves, but don't speak turkish.
Next Step: Call the desk attendant back to see if the driver of the van was honest enough to admit that a camera bag was in the van, that being the only other place it could have been.
Last: Instruct desk attendant to send the driver to the airport to drop off bag at international terminal. Check in for flight in between waiting time for drivers arrival.
But Not Least: Find driver as he drove up to departures, tip him generously and get on plane in time for departure to Athens.
Task Completed. Bag in hand I boarded the plane.
Team T4T =1
Lost Bag = 0
Everything seemed to be going smoothly. We arrived at the airport early, we had our passports, and we had all our things ready for check in. Wait... a bag was missing. Yes, I left my camera bag somewhere between the hostel and the airport.
And then panic set in. My camera! The lenses! All the money I saved to purchase the items! All the plans I had to take pictures throughout our trip started to seem like a faint wish. The bag was gone, and chances of me getting it back where slim to none.
Then, as quick as a stock market crash, Stu and I jumped into action. This was not emotional, it was a task that needed to be completely as quickly as possible. And thanks to our NYC mentality we came up with the following objectives.
1. Locate the bag.
2. Get the bag in our hands before we get on that plane.
List of Actions Taken.
First: Call the hostel. Ask if bag was there. The front desk attendant, who was so kind, said it was not.
Next: Locate the driver of the shuttle that took us to the airport to see if the bag was in the van. We asked the desk attendant at the hostel to call the shuttle office to locate the driver. We would have done it ourselves, but don't speak turkish.
Next Step: Call the desk attendant back to see if the driver of the van was honest enough to admit that a camera bag was in the van, that being the only other place it could have been.
Last: Instruct desk attendant to send the driver to the airport to drop off bag at international terminal. Check in for flight in between waiting time for drivers arrival.
But Not Least: Find driver as he drove up to departures, tip him generously and get on plane in time for departure to Athens.
Task Completed. Bag in hand I boarded the plane.
Team T4T =1
Lost Bag = 0
April 2, 2010
My First Turkish Bath
A joyous time indeed.
Who doesn't love a bath? Just a few simple rules; hot water to soak in, a comfortable environment and lots of privacy... Let's just call the Turks rule breakers because this was quite the opposite.
A Turkish bath, or Hammam, is a rich Turkish tradition that blends "a period of relaxation in the steam-filled hot room, punctuated by bouts of vigorous soaping and massaging". My experience was entering a small hole in the wall place and greeted by a robust potbellied Turkish man with a handlebar mustache and no clothes, except for a small plaid sheet wrapped around his waist. He asked which program we would prefer, the options sounding eerily like a car wash; choices being hot room, soap and scrub, full body oil, etc. We choose the full program, a mixture of the massage and soap, and were lead to a changing room to adorn our own plaid sheets. Then we were split up and sent to separate chambers for men and women. Upon walking in, there is a large slab of marble in the middle of the room and then small basins with hot & cold faucets along the walls. I was motioned to sit down at the basin edge and wait for the attendant. About a minute later, in walks a very large man slightly resembling old school wrestler King Kong Bundy and enough chest hair to clothe a small child.
This man's hands were quite the skilled set as they broke down every knot in my back in a few short minutes, while my arms and legs went flailing as he made bones I've never heard pop sound like rice krispies. Then all of a sudden, SMACK, I exhaled deeply as his hand left it's print in my back and he motioned with his little finger for me to roll over. A similar routine ensued on the front and before I knew it, I was led to the water where the attendant applies shampoo and does a rather rough neck and head massage before dousing you with water again from the basin. Then it is back to the slab as he takes a rough mitt to scrub you head to toe and in places you didn't know you ever had dirt. While the sensation was amazing and seemed very thorough, once he left me to rinse myself at the basin, you kind of felt a small sense of defeat and relief that your ordeal was now over. You have just been man-handled, scrubbed and shampooed by a man twice your size while wearing nothing but a sheet, but damn did you feel good.
After relaxing in the hot room, you return to the lobby for dry towels and a hot pomegranate tea. There the women and men convene and can have small talk if they wish. In the old days, the hammam was where mothers might size up potential wives for their sons and the men might discuss the day's events.
All in all, it was extraordinarily relaxing and Jen was purring after her massage. The custom and the tradition was amazing and a joy to experience. I think we might go again today...
Who doesn't love a bath? Just a few simple rules; hot water to soak in, a comfortable environment and lots of privacy... Let's just call the Turks rule breakers because this was quite the opposite.
A Turkish bath, or Hammam, is a rich Turkish tradition that blends "a period of relaxation in the steam-filled hot room, punctuated by bouts of vigorous soaping and massaging". My experience was entering a small hole in the wall place and greeted by a robust potbellied Turkish man with a handlebar mustache and no clothes, except for a small plaid sheet wrapped around his waist. He asked which program we would prefer, the options sounding eerily like a car wash; choices being hot room, soap and scrub, full body oil, etc. We choose the full program, a mixture of the massage and soap, and were lead to a changing room to adorn our own plaid sheets. Then we were split up and sent to separate chambers for men and women. Upon walking in, there is a large slab of marble in the middle of the room and then small basins with hot & cold faucets along the walls. I was motioned to sit down at the basin edge and wait for the attendant. About a minute later, in walks a very large man slightly resembling old school wrestler King Kong Bundy and enough chest hair to clothe a small child.
"BATH TIME!"
My new bath playmate motioned for me to lie on the large marble slab face down and proceeded to take a large rag that held air in it and liberally doused me from head to toe in foamy soap from a dish. Then began the massage...This man's hands were quite the skilled set as they broke down every knot in my back in a few short minutes, while my arms and legs went flailing as he made bones I've never heard pop sound like rice krispies. Then all of a sudden, SMACK, I exhaled deeply as his hand left it's print in my back and he motioned with his little finger for me to roll over. A similar routine ensued on the front and before I knew it, I was led to the water where the attendant applies shampoo and does a rather rough neck and head massage before dousing you with water again from the basin. Then it is back to the slab as he takes a rough mitt to scrub you head to toe and in places you didn't know you ever had dirt. While the sensation was amazing and seemed very thorough, once he left me to rinse myself at the basin, you kind of felt a small sense of defeat and relief that your ordeal was now over. You have just been man-handled, scrubbed and shampooed by a man twice your size while wearing nothing but a sheet, but damn did you feel good.
After relaxing in the hot room, you return to the lobby for dry towels and a hot pomegranate tea. There the women and men convene and can have small talk if they wish. In the old days, the hammam was where mothers might size up potential wives for their sons and the men might discuss the day's events.
All in all, it was extraordinarily relaxing and Jen was purring after her massage. The custom and the tradition was amazing and a joy to experience. I think we might go again today...
Same time next week?
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