An hour

The whole job – tidying up the piece of wood from the shed; cleaning up three old coat hooks; centring and spacing them and fixing them to the wall in Amy’s bedroom, took an hour. Those brash and useless diagrammed and illustrated DIY books! Never a chapter on creating even holes in an old wall which, behind render and plaster, is made of undressed stones and old mortar. For the first two holes the masonry drill entered fairly sound mortar, but two and half inch screws through countersunk holes in the wood into rawlplugs, left the hooks insecure. I could feel the give. I made two extra holes in the wood, offered it to the wall with a spirit level, making small marks on the plaster to start the hammer drill, which first hit and pierced a stone. Making the next hole, the drill crumbled the mortar, slipped and made a crater of broken render and plaster. I filled the cavity, and the better holes, with a dollop of quick drying glue from a gun; tapped in larger rawlplugs flush with surrounding plaster; wiped excess glue from the wall; presented the tips of four longer screws to the prepared rawlplugs; tapped the wood slightly home; tightened the screws. Three pulled firm. Where, as expected, a screw went on turning despite being home, I relied on its glue filled hole to do the holding. Half an hour later the hooks were fit for use.
*** *** ***
Nico and Sophia Zervopolou, neighbours, invited us to a celebration at their family church on Monday...
Στην Αγία Τριάδα

Γράφει ο/η Κβκ

02.06.15

The Church of the Trinity - a kilometre south of Ano Korakiana Πρωτομηνιά χθες, εορτή του Αγίου Πνεύματος και η εκκλησία των Ζερβοπουλαίων, λίγο έξω από το χωριό, εόρτασε όπως κάθε χρόνο. Ο κόσμος όπως πάντα αρκετός, ανηφόρισε από τον κεντρικό δρόμο στο μικρό ύψωμα, όπου η μικρή εκκλησία στέκει εδώ και μερικούς αιώνες περιτριγυρισμένη από παμπάλαιες ελιές και μερικά αμπέλια. Την επιμέλεια της φετινής εορτής  είχε η οικογένεια Νίκου Ζερβόπουλου, που με τους γιούς του Χρήστο και Αλέκο, είχαν φροντίσει για το καθετί, με τον εσωτερικό διάκοσμο του ναού να έχει ανατεθεί στον Ιωάννη Κοντοστάνο. Την λειτουργία ετέλεσαν ο παπα-Κώστας και ο παπα-Ιωσήφ Γεωργουλάς, που έχει συγκενέψει με κορακιανίτες Ζερβόπουλους. Ανάμεσα στους πολλούς γνωστους, το παρόν έδωσαν και ο Σάϊμον με τη Λίντα, λίγο πριν επιστρέψουν στην Αγγλία για τις καλοκαιρινές τους διακοπές. Simon and Thanassis at the Church of Holy Trinity ~ Αγία Τριάδα

Outside the church as we enjoyed cake and coffee, Dr Savannis gave Linda a posy
Lin said later "It's made up of a carnation, myrtle leaves and something else whose name I didn't catch"
"The Trinity" he'd said, smiling "All are sweet smelling"
"I've never understood the Trinity" I'd said
"Nor I"
*** *** ***
Richard Pine's 11th May letter from Greece in The Irish Times:

Oscar Wilde said every American bride is taken to see Niagara Falls on her honeymoon. “It is the second, if not the first, disappointment of married life.” Alexis Tsipras took his bride – Hellas – to Brussels. The bride contracted Brusselosis and the honeymoon ended abruptly.
The reality of married life kicked in – or up – sooner than either had expected. There were so many factors militating against the marriage. When the engagement was announced, Hellas had been warned by other jealous suitors that the union was doomed, that her meagre dowry would be spent irresponsibly and that her reputation for reckless spending and handing out tips to her worthless relatives did not bode well for a prosperous union. Her bottom drawer, and all the other drawers, was bare, and the unhappy couple would be condemned to live beyond their means, ending their days in the workhouse before the year was out.
Even the groom’s unruly family had doubted that the marriage would work, if Hellas’s relatives living abroad had anything to do with it. Each of Tsipras’s brothers had a different view of how the marriage should be conducted. They urged that the family that prays together, stays together, but the family that thinks alone sinks alone. The worst insult they could throw at Tsipras was that he would not be master in his own house – that Hellas was a shrew as well as a spendthrift, eager only to get jobs for her family at the expense of others.
Only his best man, Yanis Varoufakis, stood by him and fought off the creditors and the naysayers as best he could.
Hellas came from a poor family. Ever since her birth, she had been in debt. Twice before she had been bankrupt through no fault of her own, and her foreign relatives had taken control of her finances. Too late, it seemed, for all this time, her wicked stepmother in Berlin was threatening retribution. Hellas was marrying purely for love, because her beloved had seemed a knight in shining armour. Now the armour was tarnished, badly in need of a Silvo polish, but they couldn’t even afford Brasso.
When the debt collectors assembled at the door, Hellas knew that she and Tsipras had only the wit of the loyal Varoufakis, and the tiny savings she had managed to hide away behind the central heating, to save them temporarily from penury.
They had heard of a wise counsellor, the Krugman, who came to Athens and gave them what encouragement he could. He would explain to their creditors that to call in all the debts would totally blight the young couple, who were completely inexperienced in household management. All he could get from the creditors was hollow laughter.
Tsipras had married with nothing in his pocket but hope and honesty. He had run out of one and was fast losing his grip on the other. His were the actions of a brave but foolish man. He was discovering the ruinous power of love. In his heart he knew that Hellas loved him unreservedly; in his head he knew that she would desert him if she got a better offer.
Eventually the day came when they fought bitterly over their mistake. “You brought me no dowry, how do you expect me to pay your bills?” he yelled. “Can we not compromise on my virtue? Wouldn’t a bit of cuckolding get us out of this mess?” she retorted tearfully.
Spoiled goods
Somewhat ungentlemanly, he snapped: “When I met you, you had already been interfered with. You were spoiled goods. I thought I could make an honest woman of you. Make you see the error of your ways. You could have been a reformed character, proud to hold your head high again.”
“You were so glamorous,” she screamed. “When you raced into the Field of Politics and went from nought to 100 in a few months, how could I resist you? And now look at you, and that ne’er-do-well Varoufakis!”
He responded:“You have been on a spending spree, and now we are both up a dark backwater with no means of propulsion.”
Closeted with Varoufakis, the only man he knew he could trust, Tsipras wondered how much longer they could hold out before the situation became intolerable; they would capitulate, compromise Hellas even further, and to the snarls of the debt collectors would be added the outrage of his own family. He would be disowned by both sides.
There may be a trial separation. Certainly a trial. They may be able to renew their vows, but both families will be breathing down their necks. If the marriage, and Tsipras’s career as a boy racer, does come to a miserable end, we may hear the word “Hellas!” on his dying lips. And some French joker will quip “Did someone just say “Hélas”?

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

*** *** ***
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