About a month or so ago……..

It is early morning and the house is silent.  Nikos has undoubtedly left for work some time ago. While sipping my morning’s coffee on the back terrace at their home in Athens I observe the world around me and begin to put pen to paper.

The world seems at peace at this early hour.  The neighborhood is asleep; the sky is a beautiful Parian blue and the doves perching precariously on the gently swaying branches of pine trees in front of me are cooing to each other, undoubtedly, speaking of their last night’s adventures. 

The turtles are scavenging in the garden below for food.  Ripe figs dropping from a nearby tree satisfies them.  I notice that an older couple begins an early morning liaison.  I had never witnessed turtles mating before and found the ordeal an extreme “tour de force”…..on both parts.  Three of their offspring’s from last year’s batch of eggs traveled with us to Syros this summer.  Nikos refused to leave them behind and I think they truly enjoyed their island vacation.  They had fun digging and hiding themselves in the garden and breakfasting on fresh lettuce leaves and cherry tomatoes.

Uncle Alex lies silently in his bed in the room next to mine and undoubtedly is scrutinizing the ceiling and counting the days until his departure for Sydney.  The boys, J.J. and Panyiotti, lie sleeping in their make-shift bedroom; the living room.  This spot becomes their sleeping quarters when guests, such as now, appear on the horizon.  The early morning sun filters into their room as Katerina continues to doze in the master bedroom.  A gentle morning breeze makes everything fresh and alive. 

For a number of weeks prior to my departure for Athens it seemed as if half of my known world passed through Rome and they all wanted to spend time with me.  Rome is funny in this sense for I have seen it happen time and time again.  People don’t dribble into Rome by one’s or two’s but come in hordes as if Rome plays the role of some giant “mother magnet” hauling them in all at the same time. 

In the beginning I went “with the flow” lunching or dinning out, sometimes both, drinks here and there, or preparing things at home until the number of people and their need to “bond” with me became overwhelming.  At a certain point I became luncheoned and dinnered out.   I felt a definite lack of oxygen and began to say no.

I said yes, however, to Maria and Nat, Katerinia’s niece and her husband, having drinks with them one evening at my place before my departure.  They live in Sydney and were traveling around the world going west from Sydney.  We would later meet up on Syros where they spent about a week.

Combine this onslaught of Attila and his Huns with other minor disasters which were happening around me; a toothache, major problems with the heating system which also produces hot water for the house, and give or take a few others, it seemed at a certain point that someone had it out for me and was doing everything possible to make me reconsider leaving. 

It was almost as if this year’s vacation was destined not to happen when at the very last moment the God’s took control, reversed the spells and magic placed upon me by some malevolent spirit and all began to take form and shape and as quickly as you can say “jiminy cricket” I was out of the door on my way to Greece.  I repaired what needed to be repaired as best I could, my toothache disappeared and Princess Romanoff came to house sit.  Amen.

My flight to Athens was interesting for I sat next to an Italian tv personality, Anna Bartolini.  I’m sure that you have no idea who she is, nor should you, I suppose, but at one time I watched her show faithfully.  She is a consumer legal expert and her show dealt with people appearing and telling their woes regarding some consumer issue and she would tell them what their rights are and what they needed to do about it.  I found her extremely intelligent, witty and exactly as she appears on television.  We had a very interesting non-stop conversation from Rome to Athens. 

My initial days spent in Athens prior to departure were calm and I tried to help Katerina as much as possible around the house.  She still had tons of tour business to deal with and I knew that if she didn’t complete it she would be a “restless and angry” spirit on the island.  We did not want that to happen.  Even as was, she pulled a number of all-nighters in order to complete things.  She almost succeeded. 

I cleaned and ironed months and months of laundry which I think she subconsciously had left for me.  Goddesses, I have discovered, at least this one, are fanatical about ironing absolutely everything but I put my foot down this year – I don’t do socks, underwear and sheets.  Next year I will refuse to do undershirts.

There was an unexpected, at least to me, addition to our tribal unit this year; Uncle Alex.  Alex, whom I sometimes call George, is an 80 year old Greek-Australian geriatric who is Katerina’s uncle, having married her mother’s sister.  He was omni-present.

He meant well and tried to stay out of everyone’s way as much as possible but no matter which way you turned, there he was.  He was already in Athens when I arrived and aside from a short week when he was traveling with his daughter Maria and Nat, Natalino, by the way, is of Sicilian origin, became a fixture at chez-nous.  While on Syros, however, he did not sleep with us but had a room at a nearby hotel down the beach, the Benois.  The majority of his waking hours and at dinner each evening you would find him with us.

Everyone in our tribe had their “opus operandi” and Alex, at times, had trouble, fitting in.  Katerinia was the most successful in getting on with things. The others were less victorious.  She could easily “turn off” to everything around her and get on with her business and leave George to us.  I know that this was not intentional, at least I hope not, but this was the reality of the situation.  Someone always needed to take him “in tow”.  He seemed at times such a lost soul.  Big mistake.  Our illusion.

I tried to involve him in all kinds of pursuits.  He would come to the beach with us and I clearly remember having to almost push him in the first time.  It was easier after that.  I tried getting him to read as there were hundreds of books in the house to choose from.  He may have completed ten pages before we left the island three weeks later. 

He refused to wear his glasses at first which obviously made it very difficult for him to read or see the dots on the dominos.  He got over this later when he became less self-conscious.  Uncle Alex, I discovered, aside from being very head strong, not to say stubborn and set in his ways, is also very vain. 

Uncle Alex is one of those people who began his stay by saying that everything in Australia was better.  This, of course changed by the time he left. One major problem I had was trying to understand him when he spoke.  He had a very strong Aussi accent and spoke with his mouth virtually closed.  I was constantly reminding him to open his mouth whenever he spoke.

Yes, it is true that I am a little deaf, but this was absurd.  I got my confirmation when one afternoon Mrs. Bates, the owner of the house and a proper English lady, came for Panyiotti’s birthday party.  I recall her more than once asking Alex to open his mouth and repeat things as she too could not understand him.  I got my proof and revenge.   

We were highly successful with getting him to play dominos in the late afternoons and he also discovered Campari and soda at our aperitif time before dinner.  I am sure that he is probably having one right now in Sydney.  If he isn’t, he should be.  He became addicted to both Campari and dominos.

None of the above really has anything to do with Uncle Alex, but rather with the Goddess, Katerina, and her subconscious.  She was born with her sun in Capricorn but has been, without doubt, afflicted with a number of unmistakable Aquarian traits; mainly thinking that they are the “friends of the universe” and that it is everyone else’s duty to cooperate with them.

This did not go down well with either the Islander or me.  Nikos and I had already put our feet down at the end of last summer when we were invaded by a number of wandering Australians, some of whom camped out with us for weeks.  To me it seemed like months. 

After last summer we made her promise that even if it was Jesus Christ in person, there was no room in the inn.  She has made great strides in the right direction, we do admit, but we expect her to try even harder in the future.

Now please don’t get me wrong.  They were all wonderful and interesting people.  Sort of.  Give or take a few.  We just need our “tribal time” together.  As the Islander so bluntly put it, to which I completely agree, we need to be able to walk around with our testicles blowing in the wind if we so desire and we can only do this with our tribe. 

Nikos and I have threatened her that if she continues to accept the world at her doorstep, correct that please, our doorstep, during our vacation time, he and I will go to Mount Athos next year with the monks where no female, not even a chicken, is allowed to set foot.

No two summers spent with the Christopulos’s are ever the same even if we return to the same island and the same house as we did this year.  Each vacation is unique onto itself, taking on its own personality, its own dimension.  Our beach house on Syros, a stone’s throw from the Aegean with its own bay and beach was as inviting this year, if not more so, than last.

There are, believe it or not, classic things which happen to us each year.  I usually puncture at least one of my feet on either a stone or on some sea creature lying in lurch for me while Paniyotti, who loves to dive, usually gets stung or pricked by some sea monster.  My wounds are easily cured with iodine and patience   An exhausted Nikos on the boat to Syros
while Panyiotti’s with urine – ammonia is the best remedy for sea creature stings.  This is a normal occurrence at the beginning of the vacation and we have accepted it as such.  It would not be normal otherwise.

As it is normal to expect by now that upon leaving for Piraeus, our port of departure from Athens, the Goddess will undoubtedly be the last one out of the house and at the very last minute.  This year was no exception.               

She had pulled another “all-nighter” finishing her work at six in the morning in her studio and had only fifteen minutes to pack before our taxi arrived to whisk us off.  As you can well imagine her state of mind at that moment, things were forgotten or not taken care of.  Been there, done that.

This year she forgot a number of important items for her laptop and a number of other bits and pieces which required Nikos to make a one day return trip to Athens to remedy. It was also forgotten to clean out the refrigerator, which had devastating effects, upon our return to Athens.  But that’s another story which I will not get into here.  Let me just say that the remedy to that situation was to buy a new refrigerator.                                                                                                                         
                                                            

Last year, Katerina became very familiar with the doctors in the local hospital at the port town of Hermoupolis (the city of Hermes/Mercury) for an ear problem she developed.  This year it was Nikos, the boys and my turn.  All our troubles, thank the gods, were minor, but made life uncomfortable at times.  Nikos and the boys came down with sore throats and minor colds while I sported a lovely ear infection.  The Goddess tried to help me by giving me a number of “reiki” treatments – she has become an expert at healing with her hands – but after awhile, I gave in and decided for a more immediate cure and went to the hospital.

The emergency ward at the hospital was a very positive experience.  I found it very efficient, well staffed and full of patients with normal summer ailments. My ear doctor, who studied in Milan, was absolutely lovely and quite humorous.  After examining me and instructing me as to what I was suppose to do to cure myself I turned to her and asked if I could still go into the water to swim.  She coyly looked at me, slightly smiled and said; yes you can, but only up to your neck.  She was a scream.

Uncle Alex suffered none of the above “malheureuse”, instead, he was hit by a bout of constipation.  Being a geriatric, the odds were in his favor that he too should be included in the “sick list”, at least momentarily.  The Goddess remained as fit as a fiddle.

Aside from our minor medical mishaps and people invasions it proved to be a wonderful and interesting island sojourn.  We were all into rest and relaxation and a lovely feeling of peace and harmony prevailed.  Lady Bate’s beach house proved once again to be the ideal setting for this summer’s tribal madness.

Liz Ann Bates is a story all by herself.  Some day someone will write a novel based on her life.  She is one of those wonderfully eccentric British ladies of a certain age who you could very well imagine when younger at the Ascot Races “dolled up” alla Audrey Hepburn as in My Fair Lady or sailing down the Nile at the turn of the century in a felucca wearing a large hat covered with a delicate gauze mesh to protect her from the flies and mosquitoes.  And, of course she is gingerly conversing with a Pirrot-like character while sipping her tea from the East India Company.  Lady Bates is also never alone.  She is constantly surrounded by an entourage of one genre or another.    

As Nikos so well put it, she is not an imperialist, she is a colonialist.  She is a woman with definite likes and dislikes and has no scruples in telling you of them.  Personally, I find her absolutely delightful.  Very much like a card board figurine of a gone by era found by chance in your grandmother’s attic one rainy Saturday afternoon.

Our Lady Bates came to Syros many years ago, in fact, in the days of the hippy revolution, and never left.  Today, she passes her time raising pedigree King Charles Cavalier dogs which she shows, breeds and sells.  She also collects stray dogs and cats on the island and is looked at as a kind of mad woman of Shiloh by the island’s inhabitants.  Everyone knows Mrs. Bates.

She was married only once in her youth and has five or six children, all of whom she left when she discovered Syros, including her husband.  Since, she has had a string of lovers that would probably put Don Giovanni to shame.  I tried to play match maker between her and Uncle Alex but she didn’t go for it.  She later told me that he was very nice but that she needed someone younger, more active and sexually stimulating.  

I called her last Sunday from Rome to wish her a happy birthday and I found her in great form organizing a number of parties, of course, all in her honor.  She passed me for a moment to Gian Carlo, an Italian lover of hers, twenty or so years her younger, who flew over for the special occasion.  Need I say more.  Brava Lady Bates!

Our days on Syros passed all too quickly and before we knew it we were taking our last swim and taxiing to the port town to catch our boat back to Athens.

A number of “island moments” still stand out quite clearly in my mind on this beautiful Athenian morning. 

I get goose flesh still when I think of that one evening when I decided to remain at home alone while the others went off to a local restaurant.  I wanted to do some night painting but before I did so I decided to prepare something simple for myself to eat.  That was a very dumb idea for I ended up throwing everything away. 

I was about half way through the preparation on the little two burner hot plate when the window next to it suddenly broke open with the most incredible gust of wind which threw everything on the floor including the gas hot plate.  I was confused for I had no idea what was happening.  Luckily I wasn’t cooking with boiling oil or I would have scorched myself half to death.

I immediately went on to the terrace to see what was going on when I suddenly realized that we were in the middle of what I found out later the islanders call a “burini” or mini-tornado.  I had never experienced anything like this before and the next day the islanders said that they too had never experienced such an event on the island.

Things were flying right and left and I had to virtually sit on the terrace table in order to anchor it from flying away too.  The chairs, towels and whatever else was nearby had all been blown away by this time.  The reed roof on the terrace was heaving and groaning and about to take flight.  Perhaps the most extraordinary thing for me was watching as the ferocity of the wind blew the waves of the sea directly onto our terrace.  I was practically drenched.  I couldn’t believe what was going on around me.  There for a moment it was quite scary……the power of the elements.

At a certain point I noticed that near the shore directly in front of me the light on the top of the mast of a sail boat frantically heaving right and left.  The boat had run aground on the rocks nearby and was shooting off red flairs for help.  My heart began to pound. There for a moment the wind was so strong that I really believed that the wind was going to heave this boat onto our terrace too.

Luckily, within a short amount of time, a number of people came running down the beach to help the people off of the boat and secure it as best they could.  Within a short amount of time the harbor patrol was able to make it to the boat and after many attempts successfully pulled it off of the rocks and to safety. 

The burini stopped almost as quickly as it had begun and it was as if nothing had transpired.  I found and replaced the objects which had blown away from the terrace as best I could as I watched the floundering boat being pulled to safety.  I couldn’t believe what I had just experienced.

A short while later Katerina and the group returned to tell me of the harrowing experience they had just had at the open air restaurant near the beach not far away.  They recounted it as suddenly finding themselves in the middle of a desert sand storm.  From one moment to the next the sand began to blow with a vengeance that everything and every one became completely covered with sand within minutes.  Umbrellas and chairs were flying askew as people were scattering to secure windows and blinds.  The food on their plates became small mountains of sand.  This was definitely a night to remember.

In a way, however, none of this really surprises me, for I have learned with time and past experiences that when traveling with the Goddess one needs to be ready for almost anything.  And, ready to accept almost anything.  Some how, we all have learned, that it will all come out ok in the end.  One just needs to be a little patient and let the Gods have their whims.

Paniyiotti’s 14th birthday party was another of the many highlights.  Lady Bates and her entourage of recently arrived grand children along with JJ and his friends from Athens coupled with Uncle Alex, Maria and Nat all joined in to celebrate the event.  Panyiotti was ecstatic.  This year, being all of fourteen, he got to choose his own birthday cake which was skillfully prepared by the bakers at our favorite pastry shop in Hermoupolis.  Katerina refused to show me this shop and kept it hidden from me for she was sure that I’d buy everything in sight, and I probably would have. It was one of “those” kinds of places.  Typical Greek and Mid-Eastern delicacies to die for.

Dinner at chez-nous was a special and well waited for event each evening.  Contrary to other years, we rarely ate out.  Our terrace with its beautiful view of the sea was the perfect gathering place for many.  Aside from our tribe, when on the island, Nat & Maria were usually present and Uncle Alex had a permanent place at our table.  I think he even wrote his name on his chair.  Lady Bates was also known to have stopped by.

Dinner was an event taken very seriously and each evening there was a rotation of chefs, each trying to outdo the previous.  Katerina, Nikos, Panyiotti, and I all vied for top honors.  Even Uncle Alex got into the act by preparing his famous stuffed peppers and tomatoes twice.  The preparation of his stuffed peppers deserves a chapter all in itself, but I will not get into it here.

Panyiotti became famous for his grilled cheese burger delights.  He was very creative; in fact, he has decided to become a chef when he grows up. Niko’s grilled octopus, my curries and pastas and the Goddesses inventive salads got raves from the diners.  It was decided at the end that we all won the chef of the month award.

Another special moment was when one of Frieda’s twin boys, Marco, joined us for a day.  He has a number of Greek friends from university days and decided to island hop for a couple of weeks and hook up with a number of them.  One of his “Greek connections”, Daphne, would you believe, has a house on Syros about a ten minute drive from us.

He and I hadn’t spent any quality time together for quite awhile and we both thought that meeting up on Syros would be ideal, and it was.  We met in front of the Benois Hotel, about a five minute walk from our house, and from there we walked back to our beach where I began to introduce him to my extended Greek family. 

I took him up to the house where he finally met the Goddess and they “bonded” for some time on the terrace.  Both Marco and Katerina are “talkers” and at a certain point I had to literally drag him down to the beach. 

We sunned, swam and talked until it was time to go off to lunch at George’s, our favorite local taverna on the beach.  Islander George was in great form that day and prepared a wonderful layout of mezzettas for us; calamari, eggplant, zucchini balls, tzaziki, a great Greek salad and something new for me – caper salad.

I had seen the caper salad on the menu the last time I was there and it made me curious.  I adore capers, which the island produces in great abundance and exports to Athens, and I had the vision of lots of capers in a crisp green salad.  Well, that wasn’t the case.

To my delight it presented itself as a kind of potato salad with tons of capers.  I was so happily surprised by it that I tried to recreate it upon my return to Rome with success and have since added it to my repertoire of dishes.

It is very simple and you might even want to try it yourself:  boil up one or two large potatoes and when cooked and cooled slightly mash them up (don’t get carried away here and turn them into mashed potatoes as it should be chunky rather than smooth). 

To this add about four heaping tablespoons of finely chopped capers (I prefer the salted ones), a finely chopped boiled egg and grate about a half of a small onion into the mixture.  At this point dribble a little bit of vinegar and olive oil onto the mixture and salt and pepper to taste.  You might also want to add a little bit of finely chopped parsley and a sprinkle of oregano.  Greeks put oregano on everything except ice cream.  Mix well (if dry, add a little more olive oil) and put it in the refrigerator for a couple of hours (over night is even better).  You’ll be surprised how simple and delicious it is and it goes well with almost anything, especially summer dishes.      

It was really great to spend time with Marco again.  After lunch we returned for more sun and talk with my favorite Greeks.  Marco was a bit tired from his island partying routine and thoroughly enjoyed sleeping from time to time on the beach.  His catnaps were occasionally broken by more talk and dives into the crystal waters.  It was all very wonderful but ended much too quickly.

I was very happy with what I had accomplished on the island.  I spent time with my dear friends and I also worked.  I hadn’t planned to do a large number of watercolors as I had in the past but rather to concentrate on my sketchbook, working out ideas for the continuation of my “talking mountain” series which I had been working on in Rome.  I did a limited number of watercolors but they all revolved around the idea of this series.  The stones washed up upon the beach were a great inspiration and gave me numerous ideas, some of which I turned into “working watercolors” as you can see from the example here. 

Our return to Athens was painless, but as always, it came upon us all too quickly.  We caught an afternoon boat and were back in Athens by eight that evening.  Aside from discovering a decaying refrigerator upon our return home all went well.

I had given myself a little more time in Athens upon our return than I had in the past and I am very happy that I did so for it allowed me to gently float back into “life in the city”.

My days were carefree and the time was mine to do with as I pleased.  One day I even took Uncle Alex along with me into the city where we wandered the Monastiraki area, and, of course, we ended up at Thanassis’s, my favorite restaurant there for lunch.  He was delighted with the sights and shops I showed him and was also quite taken with the restaurant, in fact, I had difficulty getting him out of there.  He kept saying, have another cigarette, another cigarette.  Don’t you want another beer?

And, as tradition demands, one day was completely dedicated to Panyiotti.  Last year we spent an interesting day at the National Archaeological Museum together and this year I wanted to share another of my favorite museums with him, the Museum of Cycladic Art near the center of town, Syntagma Square.

Panyiotti is a virtual sponge and got very involved with the museum’s collection.  As last year, we discussed various objects which caught his attention and I could tell that he was “coming of age” when at certain moments he would drag me off to see objects which he was familiar with and would commence to tell me what he knew of their history, purpose and origins.  It was a great moment of “sharing” which came to its climax at the museum’s restaurant, another one of my “special places” in Athens.  Its small gourmet restaurant did not let me down and I could tell that Panyiotti was very happy to be there too.

My Greek sojourn came to a close with another tradition.  For years now, on my last night in town, we dine at the Il Piu’ Verde.  It is a wonderful gourmet restaurant found in the middle of an enormous park near the Goddess and Islander’s home.  Tradition also has it that it is only the three of us who participate.             Don’t we look happy, content, elegant and gourmeted-out?
This year was no exception, the tradition happily continued.

It is here that we “tell it as it is”.  At times this “event” can even take on shades of group therapy.  We revel in it and wouldn’t miss it for all of the tea in Lady Bate’s pantry.

It’s always fun, exciting, exhilarating and a great climax to our vacation.  Good bonding conversations mixed with gourmet food, an incredible environment and excellent Greek wines from Santorini – what more could you ask for?  That great line of Bette’s Davis’s from Now Voyager comes to mind – “why ask for the moon when you already have the stars”?

Each person gets their turn to speak while the others sit and listen in silence.  This too is tradition.  It is an extreme moment of truth and bonding.  Each person rehashes their vacation, its ups and downs, and the behavior of each individual, their dreams, desires and wishes related to both the past and future.  This year was no exception.

Much came out of this “therapy” session, in particular, that of our future desires.  We spoke of our mutual yearning to sometime soon sail down the Nile together, to buy a house on a Greek island and our next adventure, perhaps on the island of Milos.  It all depends on our travel agent, the Goddess and the Universe. 

We got into a “heated debate” over “our dream house” and what it should and shouldn’t have and where and where it shouldn’t be.  We virtually constructed the house in words brick by brick and at a certain point the Goddess even got up and starts marking out meters on the restaurant floor to show us exactly the size of the bathroom we needed and where the shower stalls and vanity area were to be. At that point Nikos launched into constructing “his library”.  I of course did not want to be left out of this major construction site and told them of “my kitchen”.  Hysterical.  It was magic.  The kind of magic we create when together. 

We were in agreement of everything except whether it should be built on one or two levels.  The Goddess conceded that it could be a split-level but the rooms had to be laid out in a certain order.  Every window, of course, was to have a magnificent view of the sea to which we all agreed was absolutely an essential.

More Recently…

My return to Rome the next day was painless.  I had only a few days before school started once again and I was brusquely catapulted from the “contemplative” into the “active” life.  It was abrupt but I survived.  Sort of.  Little could I imagine that my blissful and carefree days on Syros would have to be cosmically paid for.  Another Bette Davis line comes to mind…..”fasten your seat belts its going to be a bumpy ride”.

The Universe gave me a couple of days to “float back to earth” before “it” all started.

It began gently.  The balmy summer days upon my arrival quickly turned into a blistering heat wave which went on for weeks.  The kind of heat combined with high humidity that makes you think that the only way to stay cool would be to tear your skin off.  It wasn’t pleasant.

School started and it was a disaster.  Our new principal decided to completely change our schedule from a four block alternating two week schedule which had functioned perfectly for years to an eight period day.  Nothing was in place.  Nothing worked.  Neither teachers nor students were where they should have been at any given time.  After about three weeks of this madness we reverted back to last year’s schedule.  We are almost back to normality.  There were some quirks but it all worked out much more for the better.  This situation caused a lot of undue anxiety, stress and frustration which is definitely not needed at the beginning of a new academic year.

Then my apartment slowly began to fall apart.  At first it was the sink in the kitchen which decided not to let any more water down its drain.  I gently tried to persuade it to function first with the friendly plunger and then with a light draino-like liquid.  Nothing seemed to work until my plumber came and did everything but throw a bomb down it.  Today it is functioning and is somewhat happy.

My plumber’s drastic, but essential methods, undoubtedly ruptured a discharge pipe.  A few days later after doing a load of wash I noticed a water mark on the wall beginning to form which got progressively larger.  A little pool of water also formed on the floor below the mark.  Something was definitely wrong.  Back came my plumber with two solutions.  Either break down the wall to find the leak, or let it continue and see what happens.  I opted for the second solution, and believe it or not, after a couple of days it had almost completely returned to normality.

A couple of nights later I decided to warm up some dinner in the micro wave and as soon as I pushed the “start” button a third of the electricity in the house blew out.  I couldn’t believe it.  There I was standing in semi-darkness.  I had one of those “this isn’t happening to me” kind of reactions.

My house is quite old and very fragile, in fact, it is virtually held together with bubble gum and I knew that this one wasn’t going to be easy.  Through friends I found a trusted electrician and hopefully by next week I should be “up and running” again.  That is, if we are able to find those little round electrical boxes hidden somewhere in the wall under layers of ancient wall paper.  It should be fun.  I have high hopes that we will find where the circuit was broken.  But, I am sure that this will be another story.

As if the above wasn’t enough, my gas fed boiler in the kitchen, which controls both the hot water and the heating system, decided to take a vacation.  Thank the Gods that we still don’t need to use heating but the cold water is a bummer, especially early in the morning or late at night.  But, there is hope in sight.  The technicians will come this week and hopefully nothing majorly expensive will be able to be done to coax it into functioning again.  More bubble gum, undoubtedly, will be needed here.

The list goes on, but I will stop here or I will contemplate slitting my wrists again.  In all of this, I am grateful for a number of things – firstly for supportive friends who have convinced me that it would not be a good idea to throw myself out of the window and secondly that it is happening now and not on Dec.25th when no technicians could be coaxed to give a helping hand. 

Through all of this I have learned a number of things.  I need to constantly think positively thanking the Universe for everything it has given me for as dear Grandmother once said, “it can always be worse”, and, not to look at the world around me as impending disasters about to happen.  I think I am almost there.

A number of other things have also been happening of late.  Sadly I communicate to you that dear, sweet Giulia’s husband, Michael Andreevich Romanoff Prince of Russia, recently passed away.  Giulia returned early from her European vacation upon receiving news that the Prince had gone into hospital and she remained at his side until the end.  My prayers and sincere condolences go out to her for I know it has not been easy.

On a much happier note, I am happy to announce that Rania, of Magnolia fame, has just given birth to a happy and healthy baby girl, Soraya, this past week in Rome.  She and Matt are “tickled pink”, and of course, think that she is the most beautiful thing to hit the face of the earth in recent times.  I am sure they are right.

There have also been a number of people who were either in town or have passed through the city of late.  Emily is high on that list.  She decided to spend a number of months in the city and arrived shortly before I left for Greece and, unfortunately,   will be leaving in a few days.

We spent a lot of time together doing all kinds of wonderful things.  She may be an internationally known artist but she definitely is in need of help in the kitchen which is where I moved in.  We spent much time food shopping in the Campo together and me showing her some of “my tricks”.   She is slowly getting over her fear of cooking and is gradually becoming much more self-confident. 

I remember one recent Saturday morning when I decided to make some pesto for the winter.  We met in the market and bought all of the ingredients which we brought back to my place.  I then showed her step by step the pesto making process.  She avidly took notes and looked like a small child in a sweet shop.  I gave her a couple of small bottles to take home with her and she swears that it is the best she has ever tasted.    

Emily is a past student of mine and has gained international notoriety for her art. Her works have been exhibited in numerous prestigious museums and galleries throughout the world. Recently her works have also been shown at the Museum of Modern Art and at the Whitney in New York City.  She has recently been a guest lecturer at the Guggenheim Museum of New York where she was also nominated as a Hugo Boss Finalist.  A number of months ago she received a Golden Lion Award 2007 at the Biennale of Venice for the best work for an artist under forty years of age.  As I am sure that you can fully understand I am very proud of her and happy that our relationship has continued.

I invited her to come to school last week and speak with my higher level art students which she happily agreed to.  I had “commanded” that my students do research on her before she arrived so that they would know something of her and her works and not look like complete “idiots”.  It was a great seminar session and I know that both Emily and my students thoroughly enjoyed the encounter.

Caroline Lawrence, of the Roman Mysteries series fame, passed through Rome last week.  She was here for a very brief stay, only two nights, researching for her 17th and last book which revolves around the mysterious death of the emperor Titus in her children’s series.  The BBC has recently turned a number of her books into TV episodes.  It was wonderful catching up with her even if brief.  She spent most of her time researching near Lake Alba which is next to Castel Grandolfo where the Pope has his summer residence. 

We had only a brief but intense moment to spend together before she had to catch her plane back to London.  If you are not familiar with her books you might want to pick up her first one “The Thieves of Ostia”.  It is great reading for a 10-14 year old.  I have turned on a number of my “young friends” to her and most of them since have read her entire series.

Caroline is delightful, intelligent and witty.  She came over for drinks one beautiful afternoon when everything was “absolutely right”.  The Universe was happy and at peace.  She is much better at words than I am so here following is a part of her description of that encounter from a letter she recently sent me. 

 “The Piazza Navona, when I finally find it, is clogged with plebs. Worse, the beautiful Bernini fountain is boarded up for renovation! At last I find the little cobbled backstreet where Dennis lives. I press the button and he buzzes me in. As I step out of the lift and into his apartment, I enter another world. Dennis has painted EVERYTHING with Graeco-Roman or Egyptian type paintings. There are glowing Turkish carpets, jewel-coloured cushions and indoor plants, lit emerald by the late afternoon sun. The windows let in a cool breeze that causes the curtains to swell and subside, as if the whole afternoon was breathing slowly.

There are objets d'art everywhere, and some of Dennis' dreamlike paintings. He also does etchings, like that of the Bernini fountain in the Piazza Navona.

We don't have long - I have to make my way back to the train station at 5.00 - but an hour is long enough for us to catch up a little on what is happening. By serendipity, a friend of Dennis' happens to be in Rome and she calls and he encourages her to drop by. Kristen has just been to see a collection of medieval tapestries. The subject? The Emperor Titus!

Dennis is something of a pagan. His nickname is 'Dionysus' and he worships the sun. When I mentioned the magnificent moon I saw rising over Lake Alba, he said, 'Oh yes. The moon is in Pisces at the moment.' My jaw dropped. That is exactly the kind of thing Domitian's astrologer Ascletario would have said two thousand years ago. As the French say: Plus ça change, plus c'est la meme chose! 'The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

As you can well imagine, I treasure my friendship with Caroline.  If you go to my website, www.denniscigler.com, and click into About the Artist, then go to Postcards from Rome you will find a letter, Abemus in Cena, which speaks of our first encounter.

Last week Friday at school was our annual Roman Trip Day and as usual I took a number of students first to the winery of Torre in Pietra where I purchased about eight cases of white wine and then to the castle at Santa Severa (see above photo).

 It was a nasty day, overcast with cold winds and occasional rain but all was made right once we arrived at Il Pescatore.  It is an       incredible restaurant on the beach next to the castle. I had prepared them for our invasion and they made the day a tremendous success for all.  Here is a photo of “the teacher’s table” at the restaurant.  All of the teachers present have already signed up for next year’s trip there with me.  It was a scholastic and epicurean success.

As you already know, I have been an IB Visual Arts examiner for years and each April they send me off to various places to examine candidates.  They contacted me the other day and asked if I would like to also go to Mostar, Bosnia & Herzegovina, this year.  I immediately said “yes”.  I have no idea what I am getting myself into but it sounds interesting.  I sure hope that no one is taking pop shots at anyone anymore.  I now have to discover how to get there.  So, aside from Milan and Cyprus, Mostar will be added to my examiner’s schedule this year.

I have one regret as I bring this letter to a close and that is that my website has not been updated as I had hoped it would have been by now.  My computer guru, Petar, had much on his plate this summer and has only recently been able to get around to me.  As soon as it is completed, however, I will send out an invitation so that you will be able to view all of my recent works, and there are many.

Thank you for having taken the time to arrive at the end of this year’s missive and may the Universe be overly generous and abundant with plying you and yours with only good things.

Dennis

Thank you to Nat & Nikos for many of the photos in this letter.