A memory in black and white

Our Christmas card was posted on the Ano Korakiana website...

Ευχές

Γράφει ο/η Κβκ

25.12.13

Mother Greece across the Sea of Kerkyra in Winter Καλά Χριστούγεννα  HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ANO KORAKIANA ~ GOOD NEW YEAR 2014  SIMON AND LINDA, RICHARD, AMY AND ALL +OSCAR, THE DOG

Victorian aristocracy, including the Queen herself, embraced the Scottish landscape - thanks in part to the new railway. Dr Johnson was more critical. But he and Boswell travelled to the Hebrides before Romanticism trained the lowland eye to delight in highland scenery and railways made them easy to visit from the cities of the south. It was depicted as a wild heather-strewn wilderness. In fact it's an enormous park, stocked with ornamental fauna to shoot, paint or photograph; and now every track that doesn't pass under Forestry Commission plantations can be viewed from the air via Google maps. Does this make me love it less?

I'm not an explorer here, more a traveller, even a life-long tourist, inheriting the safety of the land's long habitation by people who made roads and place markers for centuries before the Victorians, let alone me, coming first to the Highlands in 1949 on the sleeper from King's Cross to spend Easter with my aunt at Fasnakyle, her home beyond Cannich, in Glen Affric, and later to celebrate a magical Christmas (in this photo I found at Am Baile, Bay and I are in the middle row, left and right of the tree - Bay just in front of Father Christmas).

My aunt had hired a film projector and we all sat down to watch Charlie Chaplin and Laurel and Hardy. We and the rest of the children were laughing so loud and so continuously, one or two little ones had to disappear to be sick before rejoining the general hilarity. (It's so good to have help identifying the others in the picture and hoping they also remember all that laughing at slapstick custard pies and silly walks from so long ago). Then Father Christmas - the estate's head ghillie (I believe), I was told years later when I no longer entirely believed in Santa Claus, arrived - and presents were handed out to all after which my aunt organised us to have a group photo with many calls to settle down and look serious just for the camera. This is why we show little sign of the excitement and joy that suffused us. I know I was fit to burst - needing one titter to set me off again.

The human past is part of the area's character - kingdoms, invasions, depravity and civilisation, even where the rigour of the landscape suggests wilderness, anyone with a little thought can see there's more wilderness in the blighted estates of our population-diminished cities than in this sublimely landscaped garden for the enjoyment of those with time to spare, good raincoats and midge repellent. It's true that in the depth of raw winter you're sensible, if stuck somewhere on a drifted road, to have a care to stay in your car and phone the rescue services

Quote from Am Baile: This is a Christmas party held at Fasnakyle House in the early 1950s for the children of employees on the Fasnakyle estate, Strathglass. The estate was owned at the time by Captain Clark. Four members of the Mitchell family have recently been identified in the photograph - Marcelle Mitchell and three of her daughters, Monique, Christine, and Lesley. Marcelle is the lady kneeling beside the little boy on the right hand side of the photograph. Monique is standing near the back, next to Father Christmas. Christine is in the second row. (She has a ribbon in her hair and her face is half hidden by the girl in front.) Lesley is the small blond girl in the front row, holding a present. The girls' father, Mr. William Mitchell B.E.M., was the General Foreman for Messrs John Cochrane & Sons, Ltd, the company who built the Hydro Electric dam in Glen Affric. A fourth sister, Lyn, was born in 1952.

A letter received 19 Oct 09:

 “Also in this picture are Margaret and Kenneth MacLennan, family of John MacLennan, (Johnny to guests, Jock to natives), who was head stalker at Fasnakyle. He succeeded his father, also John, to this position in l941.
Kenny is the little boy (2nd, front row, left, holding his present), he still lives
nearby on estate with his wife and family. Margaret (1st back row, left) has
married and moved away. Their mother Mary was caretaker for Fasnakyle Lodge. Beside Margaret is Lily Henderson whose sister Cathy is (2nd row right,
kneeling, nearly out of picture). Their father, James Henderson, also a stalker,
worked and lived on Fasnakyle Estate.

On 31 Oct 2011 I received this letter:

Dear Mr.Baddeley. I can identify two more people in the Christmas at Fasnakyle house photo. I loved the photo and was very touched to see the innocent faces that I shared a portion of my young life with. The little girl center right with the mask is Frances I think her mother is behind her to the right. I also knew Kenny Mclennan, the young boy to the left.We were all playmates at the time, living on the Fasnakyle estate. My parents were German immigrants who emigrated to Scotland in 1950 to work on the estate.
I was allowed to join them in 1952 and experienced one of those wonderful Christmas' at the Fasnakyle house, one year later than the photo. My father was the Chauffeur for Captain Clarke. The two men met during the British occupation in Northern Germany where my father acted as an interpreter for the British officers. The two men must have hit it off. A small reason may have been that they had something in common. My name was also Margot. My mother was the cook at the house. Frances and I went to school together in Cannich, she was a close friend and I have a school picture of her. What wonderful years they were. I think about them often...My life in the Fasnakyle House was a major event in my life and I am planning to take a trip there next year. I have not been back since 1955. Best wishes, Margot Luedke (Ludke)

Strathnairn in January 2012 - on many walks I'll not make more

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Clear skies for Christmas Day in Handsworth.

As Linda and Dot worked in the kitchen getting ready for lunch, I cycled with Oscar to our allotment and raised a couple of pounds of Jerusalem Artichokes from the clogging earth, washed them clean under the tap by the plot, and took them home to bake with the rest of our Christmas meal. Three generations of us gathered, and with crackers and a bombardment of poppers, sat down.

Lin and I, Christmas lunch - Richard's picture

I took my turn in washing up before, in falling dusk, my son-in-law and daughter and I and Oscar strolled about Handsworth Park, having the place almost to ourselves - an oasis of quiet amid the muted hum of traffic; the calling of duck and geese, black dots on the still water; window lights glimpsed through the branches of leafless trees. Oliver fought sleep so we did a second round of the pond getting home in darkness, to sit down again for Christmas pudding, flamed with blue-burning brandy, laced with cream. Oliver wakes. We rise and go next door where there's a coal fire and sparkling tree. We share presents. For me a jar of Marmite that'll last half a year, Patum Peperium pots, thermal underwear, chocolate and several police procedurals from other countries.

Oliver seemed to like his Christmas present - the toy cooker we've made out of a wooden locker left in the street and collected by Handsworth Helping Hands a few weeks ago. Washers, handle, nuts and bolts, hinges and screws came from a small ironmongers up the Lozells Road; cookware from Poundland; cooker rings, used DVDs; controls sawn from a discarded broom handle.  Into the evening the boy struggled to stay awake; the first Christmas he will remember? At last he, and then his father, fell asleep.

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Τα πρώτα Κάλαντα στην Άνω Κορακιάνα - The First Carols in Ano Korakiana

Τα πρώτα Κάλαντα ήχησαν ολίγον πρώιμα, χθες το απόγευμα, από παιδιά μικρών ηλικιών του χωριού και μάλιστα με τη συνοδεία οργάνων. Πολύγλωσσα ακούσματα, από τα παραδοσιακά κορακιανίτικα κάλαντα, έως και γνωστά ξένα χριστουγεννιάτικα κομμάτια, δημιούργησαν μια χαρούμενη ατμόσφαιρα με αρκετή δόση από «Βαβέλ». Η πρώτη Λειτουργία των Χριστουγέννων θα τελεστεί σήμερα το πρωί, παραμονή της εορτής, στο μοναστήρι του Αγίου Ονουφρίου, ως είθισται τα τελευταία χρόνια. Με λιγοστό εκκλησίασμα, ένα ψαλτήρι (και αυτό κατά τα δύο τρίτα κορακιανίτικο), αλλά και τέσσερεις ιερείς (παπα-Κώστας, παπα-Γιώργης, παπα-Αλέξανδρος και παπα-Πέτρος)…Κεκλεισμένων (λόγω κρύου) των θυρών, υπό το φως των κεριών και τη ζεστασιά μιας σόμπας. Στο απολείτουργο, η επίτροπος της μονής θα μας προσκαλέσει στο αρχονταρίκι για καφέ συνοδευόμενο με κονιάκ, ούζο και κουλούρια, ενώ ο εκ των ιερέων θα ανανεώσει το ραντεβού στον ίδιο τόπο, για την παραμονή των Φώτων. Υ.Γ.1.Μετά το αρχονταρίκι και τον εξωτερικό μαντρότοιχο της μονής, υπό επισκευή έχει τεθεί το καμπαναριό. 2.Φετινές Κορακιανίτικες παρουσίες: ο Γιώργος Κένταρχος και ο Γιώργος Μαρτζούκος στο ψαλτήρι, ο Γιάννης Κοντοστάνος στην επιστασία του ιερού και φυσικά ο παπα-Κώστας.

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'Σε σύγκριση με προηγούμενες χρονιές το γενικότερο κλίμα της εορτής στο χωριό θα είναι εμφανώς συγκρατημένο, λόγω και της δύσκολης συγκυρίας' - 'Compared to previous years the overall tone of the celebration in the village will be visibly restrained, because of the difficult times'

From America

A letter from Connecticut

Dear Simon. Hard to believe that it has since before the election that I sent you any word of happenings here.  Such a sea change; it seems like one should almost demarcate it as the change of an era  "b.e." and "a.e." on the calendar!
 Helen and I learned the results over the internet at our hotel in Argentina.  We were overjoyed and relieved as I think much of the world was. It would have been truly awful had the Repubs prevailed.  The victory was much more widespread than we could have dared hope. Here in CT the democrat Chris Murphy roundly trounced an almost perverted TEA Party type- a woman who owns a wrestling TV network and who spent over $100 million of her own money in her two attempts to become a US Senator.
Now we just have to get Obama to really stand up to the Repubs and we have to reform the filibuster rules of the Senate.  Obama seems to have much more spine these days although one can never be certain and there is a strong movement to reform the Senate that includes even the Democrat leadership.  So there is real hope.
H and I had a fascinating 2 wk trip to Argentina where we had never been before.  A vast beautiful and sharply contrasting country in the foothills of the Andes where we spent much of the time. Amazing highly colored rock formations where one can see plate tectonics played out in Technicolor.  Food and wine excellent and not just the superbly flavored beef one hears so much of.  Lots of excellent Italian food brought over by the Italian immigrants in the late 19th/early 20th century.
Since returning I have started a monthly philosophy dinner/discussion group with four friends.  Lots of fun and ANY topic up for argumentation.  Had a similar group in Washington before moving here.
We a getting ready for the crazy American Christmas season. It is a bit exhausting but it will be fun to gather with our children and splash down oysters with Loire wine.
So what is up with you and Lin?  I see Greece is into its usual troubles and the Economist says that GB may leave the EU.  Our best wishes to you for rambunctious holidays.
Much love to you both, Tony & Helen
PS we are planning a trip to Sicily in late spring.  I want to see the temple at Segesta most of all.  Have never been to Sicily so will be an adventure.  Probably won't make Greece this time but any chance we can lure you to this side of the "pond" in 2013?

Segesta

*** ***
Tuesday morning Lin drove us into Inverness across Daviot Muir to Inverness - beside frosted verges and sparkling trees, ice melting from the wiondscreen.

Ben Wyvis lay spotless white on the lip of our horizon as we descended the steep wind past Newton of Leys leading to the Culduthel Road to call on William T Fraser to collect the undertakers' bill before visiting Bank of Scotland with Mum's death certificate and Will to allow them to release cash from her account to pay. Probate rules allow this. Other equity is locked until the estate is cleared. We've been working to reduce outgoings on Brin Croft, while protecting the house from the elements and enjoying warmth in the sitting room. It's a small version of larger austerity policies.
On Sunday Richard went home. I returned him to the airport for the Sunday evening flight to Birmingham.
"Drive back via Mains" he asked. So I drove past the shop. over the Nairn, to turn north at Balnafoich down the long straight narrow road that runs parallel with the river towards Daviot - a road we've known for thirty years, driven, walked and cycled along it. A blunt ache - not left when her husband died in 2005, now untended even scruffy, but so recognisable for that sound of crunching gravel beneath our arriving tyres; there the blue painted door that was always open, and the dogs that scurried out barking.

Mum and Angus at Mains of Faillie

"I may not pass this way again" said Richard, the dusk descending.
"Do you remember' I said "walking up this road beyond the drive to meet mum and me arriving once? We must have rung from a phone box near Perth and you children surmised our time of arriving and came out with the dogs to greet us. You'd gone up a week earlier on the sleeper."
I'm ill acquainted with grief. The main way I've thought to assuage my sadness, is not as one might try - impossibly - to quench the agonising grief of untimely death, like this I glimpsed on a note stuck to a motorway service station window...

...keening, crying out in anger and pain, on the edge of cursing God, but by being stalwart.

Let’s say goodbye to her now; and be as brave as her; as brave as you know she'd insist we be. It’s not her death that matters in the end.It’s her life that we’ll take away from here.

On Monday evening I braved the woods above the house; the paths where I try and fail to get lost, even in the gloom of sunset. Sheep were strewn over the frosty fields below the dark edged horizon of the Strath

Brin Rock at dusk

I walked between close birch and pine along a familiar leafy path as the dogs almost invisible dashed effortlessly back and forth through the winter undergrowth appearing and disappearing in the gloom, never roaming too far, my companions rustling in the woods.

These woods at dusk

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Tomorrow is Saint Spyridon's day on Corfu; the Bishop always recognisable by his shepherd's hat, who was at the first council of Nicea in the third century of the Christian era, debating the nature of the Son of God' was He as suggested by Bishop Arius - standing opposite Spyridon at the great assembly in Nicea - finite, part mortal or was he, as the majority eventually agreed, consubstantial and eternal, rather than, as Arius in a growing minority argued, a subordinate entity to God the Father.

Bishops Spyridon and Arius - without halo -  debate the Trinity at Nicea

“I have no words left for the sea”

Delphi evening

Serendipity – endless clues left for misguided atheists. I have been sad that Jim Potts and Maria Strani-Potts are giving up their place in Corfu, for pastures in Zagori, Dorset and North America. Quite unexpectedly, we met them among a crowd of travellers at Kapodistria, awaiting the same flight to London, delayed by a half-day strike. I asked Maria about her new book.
“I have no words left for the sea”
Can writers run out of words more easily than painters out of colours? Homer has one eternal phrase 'wine dark sea, οἶνοψ πόντος' – a formula like ‘rosy fingered dawn ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς’ that survives enduring recurrence. And Durrell's observation of the 'sea's curious workmanship.' I’m longing to read how Maria has used up words about the sea. I wonder if she’s used ‘shot silk’ with which painters and weavers enjoy boasting their craft – separate warp and weft creating iridescence. I think of zephyrs raising wavelets in the Corfu Straits - raised nap of blue velvet - and, on land, turning up the silver side of olive leaves in the groves below Prophet Elias Προφήτη Ηλία.
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A letter from Connecticut – from Tony in Salisbury who stayed with us in Corfu before touring Greece – dated 1 October:

Dear Simon. Yes it is a long time but threads are for spiders. So as mentioned in my email I decided to write. What a pleasure to feel my pen gliding over the paper. One forgets this in the faux-urgency – distraction – of the keyboard clacking response to an email.
This summer has been quiet with just family visiting and visited. This fall promises to be a maelstrom – but wonderful. H & I are going to Argentina in November. As I think I wrote H turned 60 and we decided to go to SA in celebration never having been there before. Hear it is very beautiful – will report. Have you and Lin been there? Any suggestions as to things to see. Want to see the deserts of Atacama.
We of course, are totally preoccupied by the Obama-Romney contest. We were very worried a few weeks ago but things have turned up recently. How truly frightening if Romney/Ryan get in!

We are also in the middle of battle royal both in our CT Senate seat and our local House of Representatives. Both should have been sure for the Democrats but it is very tight with our candidate for the Senate opposed by a tea-party lady who runs a TV network of wrestling shows allied with a child pornography network. How awful! She has $30MM or more to spend! Even if Obama gets in, the Republicans will be awful, if they control both the house and the house + senate. Helen and I have decided that if they win we will cancel our return tickets from Argentina. Will send you our new address!!! Not really but it IS very frightening.
Europe sounds no better. And poor Greece. They must reform but the Germans have got it all wrong. They force-fed Greece and Spain loans they knew they knew they couldn’t pay – like our banks – and expect repayment. Insane. I have begun work on an article on the nature of national debt along the lines of the explanatory email about our Federal Reserve that I sent you. I am looking forward to it but find it hard putting pen to paper. But it is coming.
On the bright side, we are just beginning a very beautiful mild fall – colors just emerging every day with maples in our valley dotting their reds and yellows over the surrounding hills. Last night extraordinary. After a passing thundershower the valley was filled with geysers of mist rising up to meet the pale white of the retreating sun and then falling back. Alone and in complete quiet I watched from our terrace. A mystery.
Also read Stephen Greenblatt’s “The Swerve” about the rediscovery of Lucretius’s “De Rerum Natura” in the 15th century. Fascinating. Epicureanism not at all the wine swilling credo portrayed by “Christians”. And one learns of the corruption of the church. A good challenging, but easy read. Look it up if you have a chance. You will be amazed what we nearly lost from the bigotry of the church. (Just what is occurring in the Arab world today!)

Clinamen

Am listening to Glenn Gould play Bach’s Goldberg Variations. Amazing the change of moods. Have heard an adaptation of the same for small string orchestra. Perhaps even more effective than piano solo, the voices emerge on the different strings so much more clearly. We had it played here one time. Wow when you hear it played 10 feet away!
But enough of me. What’s up with you grandparents? And when can we have you to this side of “the pond”?
Best wishes and much love to you both.
Tony and Helen

*** ***

The oranges I brought my mother from our tree in Corfu sit beside her bed where she can see them slowly turning yellow.
"When they're ready I'll have an orange posset"
This afternoon we were discussing Jan Bowman's portrait of Richard that mum commissioned last year. Framed in Inverness this afternoon I hung it opposite her bed and we talked about how much we liked it

The weather on Friday when I arrived was grey and wet. I walked into the shelter of Inverarnie Wood, paths Oscar knows well and walked until I was lost, then walked until we found the way out along the esker and over the fields.

Over the weekend the sun's shown all day, usually low through trees. I walked beside the Farnack with three dogs and with my sister and we talked. I've not been with her for so long in forty years. This is a slightly surreal time, a fermata....

I mix places

The woods by Ano Korakiana

The woods by Inverarnie

"They will live with what they choose"

On the 28 May, just before we left Greece I said goodbye to Sally

"There'll have been some water under the bridge by the last week of August?" I said
"Greeks will decide" she said in her matter-of-fact way "If they vote for SIRIZA they mean to go back to the drachma and take the consequences; if for New Democracy they will have chosen more austerity. They will live with what they choose."

Key points at 2239 GMT ... with 80% of votes counted, interior ministry projections put New Democracy on 29.9% of the vote (130 seats), Syriza on 26.7% (71) and the socialist Pasok on 12.4% (33).

• A pro-bailout party, New Democracy, seems set for victory by a slim margin in Greece's election

• New Democracy leader Antonis Samaras has called for a national salvation government

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• New Democracy's likely main partner, Pasok, has called for radical leftists Syriza to be included

• Syriza came second on an anti-bailout platform and seems unlikely to join a new government

• Germany continues to insist Greece must abide by the terms of its international bailouts

All times in BST (GMT: -1 hour, Greek time: +2 hours

So it look as if a majority have rejected the Tsipras gamble and voted for continued austerity. This will please other European leaders. Despite wobbling, the famous first domino hasn't fallen - so there's breathing space for Spain and those just behind her. There will be the opportunity - if the current mood continues - for leaders at the next EU summit on 28th and 29th June, to work directly and indirectly on banking union and pooled sovereignty and anything else to improve the stability of the Eurozone.

In Ano Korakiana:

Kafeneio Kefalloniti in Ano Korakiana

«Στα ίδια  μέρη…» συναντιόμαστε μετά από ένα περίπου μήνα, για τη δεύτερη προσπάθεια επίλυσης (?) του πολιτικού προβλήματος της χώρας, που φαντάζει εξίσου σημαντικό  με το οικονομικο-κοινωνικό. Βουλευτικές εκλογές για μία ακόμη φορά σε σύντομο  διάστημα, σε ένα καλοκαίρι με πυκνό πολιτικό χρόνο, που δεν μοιάζει με κανένα  από τα σχεδόν ανέμελα, προηγούμενα… Αναζητώντας τη λύση «στο παλιό ή στο νέο», με οδηγό «το φόβο ή την ελπίδα», με «εκείνο ή με το άλλο», με όλα τα διλήμματα μιας διαλεκτικής, που και αυτή μοιάζει ανεπαρκής να εκμαιεύσει το μέλλον.

Έξω από το καφενείο Κεφαλλωνίτη, θα συγκεντρωθούν από το πρωί παρέες, στις συζητήσεις των οποίων θα κυριαρχεί η πιθανολόγηση του εκλογικού αποτελέσματος και η δυνατότητα σχηματισμού κυβέρνησης. Βέβαια, λόγω του ζεστού καιρού, αρκετοί άλλοι θα προτιμήσουν να περάσουν το πρωινό τους στην παραλία...

Ραντεβού, το βραδυ, αντιμέτωποι με την αλήθεια, που από αύριο, δεν θα την μάθουμε απλά, αλλά θα την ζούμε...

“Here we are in the same place…” meeting again after roughly a month, for a second attempt at resolving (?) the political economic and social problems of the country via Parliamentary elections, once more in a short interval in a summer charged with intense political activity unlike any of the previous almost carefree times...… wondering if solutions lie with the 'old or the new'; with 'fear or hope'; with 'one or the other', amid every puzzling argument, without any confident sense of the future. Outside Keffalonitis' Kafenion, people will gather from early morning debating and conjecturing the outcome of the election and the prospects of forming a government. Of course, because of the heat, many will prefer to pass their Sunday morning at the beach…meeting again in the evening to learn not only what's happened but the reality with which we will live..."

...and a storyin the New York Times from another village Touthoa Τουθοα in Arcadia, Αρκαδία - I saw it once long ago...

a quiet hamlet, which sprang to life on Election Day as descendants of the 30 or so grandparents and parents still living here gathered to participate in the latest expression of democracy that they hoped would deliver the country from its troubles....Far from the grim atmosphere gripping Athens, Touthoa teems with silver-tipped olive groves, sun-kissed vegetable gardens and flocks of sheep, living testaments to the centuries-long natural wealth of this resilient nation....

Election results - Ministry of the Interior

The poll in Kerkyra where SYRIZA was ahead - 34% to ND's 24%
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Earlier in the day....

Yanis Varoufakis (2.30 on the clip below)"The negotiating card is not either we have a deal that is workable or we get out of the euro. No no. It’s very very simple....Don’t threaten the Europeans with an exodus. Simply say guys I’m not going to take the next instalment. That’s it...and sit down" 

Polling day musing. If Greeks vote for continued austerity Samaras style, the bail-out which follows this August involves paying it all back to creditors, rather than into what remains of the declining Greek economy. Threatening to leave the euro is crazy...well think about it. This is like saying "If you don't do your homework, my daughter, I will stop breathing until I die."
If as a result of a Greek rejection of the bailout planned for mid-Aug 2012, Greece is thrown out of the Eurozone, then the Eurozone goes down too. Yes? No? This is the Tsipras gamble he's shared pre-election. This is like 'prisoners' dilemma' but with only the lose-lose and win-win options. If Europe and Greece can co-operate in some way not yet explored there might be a win-win, or the start of a win-win solution to what has for a good while looked like a seriously lose-lose one. Greek economist Yanis Varoufakis seems to be saying that the win-lose, or lose-win options of the dilemma aren't available. Is he just playing Ulysses, the crafty? If Greece votes for continued austerity she loses, but no-one else wins - indeed the whole world may lose. If she votes against austerity she also doesn't win, but nor does anyone else. This is one of SIRIZA's advisors explaining himself. PSI, by the way refers to the theory of  Private Sector Involvement in the problem.

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  Alec Mally Simon I just can't take his "Europe will save us because it needs us" and "its not our fault" attitude anymore. He really isn't that smart. Other comrades that have dealt with him in the blogosphere call him arrogant and closed minded. I rarely post anything on his page.
  

  4 hours ago · 
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  Simon Baddeley Historians now show us how the first world war began with mistake in a highly charged context. The murder in Sarajevo and the subsequent July memo from Austria-Hungary to Serbia called in all sorts of treaty agreements between different European states which ended up taking sides, and mobilising their armies. That what was initially a diplomatic exchange between governments became a devastating war had much to do with people's ignorance of what war involved, and predispositions to nationalistic fervour. Why the Tsipras gamble is safer now is that the sociological conditions do not make specific incendiary incidents anything like as inflammable. It's not just Europe will save us because it needs us, but more like 'if you go on doing austerity you may create the conditions in Greece and further afield that you fear" No population is more aware of how austerity and humiliation can drive civilised peoples to madness than the Germans. All the Greeks I know admit a great deal of fault, Alec, but how far do you think it's safe to press the punishment? Only a few people are near starving so far and the suicide rate has increased a little (a lot by Greek standards). AT present the main starvation is of expectation, but after that...??
  

  4 hours ago · 
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  Alec Mally Simon, its NOT punishment. To ask a country to live with the aggregate output it generates is not cruel and unusual, and the repayment for Greece's debt has been cut way back. So what do they want? Total debt forgiveness, budget support and no reform commitments? They have got to deliver some kid of reform or they will be abandoned by Europe. An angry no is not the answer.
  

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  Simon Baddeley But the whole school *is* being punished for the crimes of an identifiable few. I don't necessarily agree with Tsipras or this economic adviser and I fully agree (with many many Greeks) that the corruption, patronage and nepotism that the Northcote-Trevelyan reforms addressed in the UK in the 1850s must be exorcised from Greece. The corruption around medical attention in Greece is obscene. The radical Ilias Zervos who campaigned for Ionian Independence failed to prevent enosis and in 1880 wrote of connection with Athens ‘the pollutant of political corruption, which has brought this miserable nation to its present deterioration and produced as many unscrupulous exploiters as a decaying corpse produces worms." You don't have to say anything to convince me of this. I know of no European country in which corruption is so endemic, so normal. That has got to change. But I disagree with you about the target of blame. I'm not even arguing for compassion. But Justice is another matter. Have you seen that brilliant Mamet play Glengarry Glen Ross in which a bunch of realtors are being bullied into selling sub-prime loans? It came out long before Katerina and the sub-prime scandal in the US tipped all of us into recession. Greece's political class has been a portal for just this kind of predatory money lending and it's not just or wise to insist on claiming back the ridiculous interest now impossible to repay from people who didn't ask for these loans in the first place. (cue an argument about human nature? They didn't ask but they sure went mad with the plastic 'money' that became available from the mid-80s on...etc ..to which, continuing the justice argument, I will reply "who was corrupting who?").

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Yesterday after a walk with Lulu, I drove my mother down to the Farr Community Hall on the edge of Inverarnie where all ages were having a good go at celebrating the Diamond Jubilee, she greeted friends, some she'd not seen for ages, and had look at the various images of the Queen she, with help from Richard, had chosen for a display inside the hall

Strathnairn celebrates Jubilee.

On another wall was a projection of the 1953 Coronation procession. I watched it in black and white between helping with a village fête while my mum and Jack sat soaking and chill on a stand in the Mall "I've never been so cold" said Mum. The weather now wasn't different from the weather sixty years ago, but then I expect this in the Highlands along with the midges that keep tourists at bay.

[Back to the future - 9 July'12: Story in the Herald Scotland about the advancement in Scots' support for keeping the Union - it resonates with Greek popular support for staying in the Eurozone]
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Circular from Linda to other members of the Handsworth Helping Hands 'team':

Hi All. I've completed the accounts from when we took over the finances. Current bank balance is £14,539.76, which tallies with my balance brought forward on sheet 4. The 14th June cheques are still to go through. I've asked for places for Denise and I at the Midland Heart 'Meet the Buyer' open day next Friday. If anyone else has a burning desire to go, please let me know asap.
I suggested next Thursday or Friday for the Church Vale cleanup. Friday is now out, as there won't be enough volunteers if we get the Midland Heart places.  Do we want to do the Church Vale work on Thursday 21st June or would it be better to leave it until the week after? Please let me know what you want to do asap. Lin

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From last December's blog - Marylebone Station pub: I maintain vigorous hope for a revival of sustainable communities - clusters of villages and smaller provincial towns; a global trend to be observed if sought in India, Australia, Canada and much of Europe including Greece.
 To survive and even thrive in villages it is neither possible nor feasible to revert to the past whose grinding conditions so many sought to escape; nor is it possible in some straightforward way to revert the attitudes and values of a globally urbanised world to villages. The ideas, techniques and values essential for survival and success in these small linked communities have not yet been assimilated or in some cases even invented. The new ideas and practices exist but only in certain places unique to particular critical clusters of people. Every small community is different and unique and there is so simple generic set of guidelines on how to make villages or clusters of villages work for their inhabitants. The ideas are out there - hardly realised, evolving, their originality, difficult, even impossible, to distinguish amid the suffocating noise of present crises  and current understandings of the world. There are communities dotted around the world which seem to be working (some we know, some we don't and wouldn't know what we were seeing of they were evolving in front of us because of our urban globalised preconceptions). I very much doubt if the centralised governments of large modern states are capable of helping such new ways of living too evolve, and certainly the past for all our nostalgia about it has little to teach us in this matter (notwithstanding sources of wisdom in our species that have always been present in, and at, different and unpredictable places and times. The work of Elinor Ostrom (Nobel Prize 2009) is helpful but there are many many other sources of inspiration. We cannot look to Athens. London, Berlin or Washington, nor Delhi, Beijing or Rio for answers and inspiration. Though it may be that men and women who will support and can lead, and are leading, these other ways of living, will come from the heart of great cities - not escaping, not refugees but pioneers
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Right now Professor John Martin and Alistair Walker are cycling 7500km across Canada while doing a study tour of the sustainability of communities including the agricultural finance initiatives that exist across Canada

John and Alistair (more pictures by Annie Guthrie)

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Excuse metonymy, but pornography is getting a bit above itself. In the sensible opinion of Mrs Pat, it's starting to "frighten the horses." It does this, now and then, donning a familiar variety of transparent disguises – the ubiquity of the sexual drive, the harm of repression, freedom of speech, fear of being thought prudish, liberation. Blah. Such altruism! Such enrichment for broadcasters and publishers pitching their tents beneath the current New York Times fiction list…an inexperienced college student falls in love with a tortured man who has particular sexual tastes…"ooh er missus"…the first book in a trilogy…"Phwoah" etc.  This is impudent. In the kingdom of the flesh a degree of hierarchy works rather well, not censorship, suppression, nor 'decent reticence', but a recognition of place...and, just possibly, love

...All day, the same our postures were,
  And wee said nothing, all the day... 

Agiotfest 2012

It's still a good nine weeks away, but the first place we shall go when we get to Corfu is home - to unpack, watch the dawn and have a rest - given that we'll get into Kapodistria before four in the morning. In the early evening when it's still light we'll go to Agiotfest - a celebration held each summer in the village of Agios Ioannis in the centre of the island - 15 minutes drive from the city, about twenty from Ano Korakiana. As our friend Paul McGovern, the driving force behind Agiotfest, says: "When many people's domestic finances are at low ebb the Agiotfest and events of its type are just what the doctor ordered to step out of the gloom. So please turn out in your hundreds to enjoy this fabulous occasion where dancing is almost compulsory"

The Steve Gibbons Band which we know from our home town Birmingham is the headline act. Steve was heading the Dylan Project in the very successful first Agiotfest in 2009. This was the clip I made while we were enjoying that good evening of music, dancing, food and drink at Ag.Ioannis...

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And today and tomorrow on the eve of the Hellenic General Election in the city of Corfu, events that include my favourite bloggers, Jim Potts and Chris Holmes....

Corfu, Summer Festival 2012, Music at the Anglican Church, 15-16 June
Two great concerts in the evenings (ticket prices include food and a glass of wine):

Friday 15 June, 1900-2300, Jazz and Pop Evening (with Stefania Kaloudis)

Saturday 16 June, 1900-2300, Chamber Music Evening (with Kostas Zervopoulos)
Also, free events on Saturday morning (11am-2.30pm), Open Air Buskers, during the Summer Fair
Running Order:
11:00 - Fair opens
11:30 - 12:45 : Rob Sherratt and Pavla Smetanova and Pavla's son (Piano / Sax / Flute)
13:00 - 13:20 : Chris Holmes (Guitar and Vocals)
13:45 - 14:15 : Jim Potts (Guitar and Vocals) and Raul Scacchi (Guitar): 'Backporch Blues'

...and here's a piece encouraging people to take holidays in Corfu and Paxos...

...And there is another, neighbourly reason to choose Greece, for if my experience is anything to go by, there is a human story being enacted there about Europe itself that is touching the hearts of regular visitors. Hundreds of thousands of British tourists come to Corfu every year. In some resorts I visited, up to 70% of holidaymakers are from the UK and, of those, two-thirds have been before. They have made friends here...Amid the global uncertainties, there is a feeling among them not just of sympathy but of “there, but for the grace of God, go we”.

Summersong at Agni, Corfu

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I managed a few hours on the allotment on Thursday afternoon, planting some more runner beans, spreading more slug pellets, topping seeding weeds, watering - as it turned out unnecessarily - my seed beds. I driving the Handsworth Helping Hands transit van to the park compound, after which I shall pack for a flight to the Highlands to stay a few days with my mother, sister and niece at Inverarnie - and to walk.

Winding up the HHH meeting - John, Mike, Lin, Leslie, Denise and Oscar

Our little group got a lot of work done last night, finishing well before 9pm, It was pouring rain so I gave Denise a lift home. I typed notes as we met and will turn them into minutes while travelling.
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Easy flight from Birmingham. Long catch-up chat with my mum - things impossible by phone, including Skype. I had time for a walk with dog Lulu in the long evening; out of the house, over grid, over the esker, up the forestry track to the end of Inverarnie wood....

Strathnairn

...back by footpaths to Brin Croft. Strathnairn is carved by glaciers, notably Brin Rock in the background behind my right hand. Even I, a geological illiterate, can manage rough readings of how this place was formed 20,000 years ago. The valley floor is strewn with isolated boulders - erratics carried sometimes hundreds of miles in the ice and dumped as it melted - and eskers, built up by the meltwaters from the last ice sheet - winding mounds of turfed gravel, rather like railway embankments - enduring forms upon which humans apply their temporary marquetry.

In this wood, hardly a mile long, a half wide, I can pretend I'm getting lost, savouring the mildest apprehension; an echo of childhood stories where people, particularly children, are lost in woods, sometimes led there deliberately on the chance or in the hope they'd been eaten by wolves or bears. These tales scared me as intended and as I wanted. The idea of being lost was frightening and exciting - learnted before I became worried by the idea of being lost in a city or at sea. It included encounters in forests - with dangerous animals, spirits, people. The prospect of Pan - who brings terror in daylight. Since childhood the idea of being geographically lost is near inconceivable - almost a shame. In these woods that mix newer deciduous with serried forestry evergreens there are paths, the remains of paths, marshy clearings that I come at from different directions, small dribbling streams edged by cushiony sphagnum, wider lanes marked by the imprinted tread of big tyres on forestry vehicles and the shattered stems of smaller trees, sudden stretches of rusting wire fence, ridged gullies difficult to traverse, and recent smartly-made fences and gates with signage near the metalled road through the village. This is a wood I can enter at one end, proceed in one what I think is a direct line to its other end, to find myself leaving it at the end I entered. Perhaps I'll stumble upon the remains of some half-hidden village like those in the Grunewald by Lake Krumme west of Berlin. Perhaps I'll have a chance to walk my grandson Oliver through here; see if we can find a ginger-bread house.

The house in the woods

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Vasso Simu and Panagiotis Vovos - another of the regular stories from Greece of city people returning to the village...

...both 31. She had been an adviser in an insurance company, he had been a computer programmer. Unemployed and with no future in the city, three months ago they moved back to his mother's village on the island of Evia, Εύβοια, two hours' drive from Athens. "We wanted a new life in the countryside,'' Simu says. ''We have our own garden: tomatoes, aubergines, peppers, beans, corn. We will make our own olive grove.'' She works in a restaurant to earn them cash but they hope eventually to make a real living out of selling what they grow...Meanwhile, they love the traditional life. ''Every day we are swimming in the sea,'' she says with satisfaction. ''We get up early and collect the eggs. Right now Panagiotis is filling the ground with water and then he will fix the house of the chickens. I make marmalade and all the food for us to eat. We are very happy.''

"We are very happy"

I read these stories with intense interest and a mix of hope and scepticism, Having an inkling of how hard it is for me to grow just my own vegetables, I can guess what a test it will be, what perseverance and sheer guts will be needed, to grow enough vegetables to sell them as well. The earth can be a pig...Zola’s Earth demolished the rural idyll, mocked ‘back to the land’. John Berger, a century later, called it Pig Earth; that working the land is no refiner of character...and the 'traditional' life can be abusive, male-dominated, small-minded, gossipy, superstitious, stiflingly constrained. Tradition's etymology = delivery, surrender, handing down, delivery of doctrine...No, it was the journalist Aspasia Koulira who used this phrase to describe the opinion of Vasso and Panagiotis. What would be most desirable would be for people to make a new kind of village; a community which is sustainable but wisely selective about its 'doctrines'.