Until Death Do We Party

Despite the fact that I have lived in Greece for 14 years I only recently had the opportunity to attend a traditional engagement party: Apparently they have been out of fashion and are now making a comeback.

The lucky bride to be was one of my husband’s myriad cousins.. My husband has more relatives than a stray dog has fleas! No stone had been left unturned in the search for second cousins three times removed and looking round I had to commend them for the thoroughness of their search: One or two of the older guests looked like may have been dug up just so that they didn’t miss out. As a result it was quite a big celebration and an entire restaurant had been booked for the occasion

I was a little dismayed to be seated at a table with a couple of these death defying ancients and it was therefore something of a relief when we were joined by an accountant and his wife. Wine was served and not wanting to drink on an empty stomach I took an almond cake from a plate in the middle of the table and commenced nibbling and sipping while things got underway.

The happy couple got up to dance drawing my attention to the area which had been cleared for this purpose. It was festooned with pink and white balloons which clashed unhappily with the orange and green décor of the venue. The balloons formed an arch over what appeared to be a premature wedding cake, but what do I know?

The couple were joined by a priest who sang something unintelligible which was greeted by a round of applause as the groom placed a ring on his intended’s finger. Meanwhile waiters served all the guests with a glass of opaque white liquid which tasted of almonds

It was time to present our gifts, always jewelry on these occasions, so each guest went up in turn and fastened their offerings on the appropriate part of the couple’s anatomy. Seeing the plethora of crosses, rings and bracelets appearing I started to have doubts about the gold, diamond studded padlock I had chosen but reasoned that it was only fair that somebody should warn them...

My misgivings evaporated however when I returned to our table and was greeted by a curt nod from the ancient aunt accompanied by the comment “A good wife should always obey her husband”. My husband nodded in apparent agreement and took a sip of his almond cordial while I gave some thought to other things that taste like almonds and the waiters obligingly presented us with dishes of the damned things, sugared!

Just as I was beginning to wonder if it was a marzipan flavor theme party the waiters reappeared with salad, chips and tzatziki. This is a sure sign that real food is on its way and I perked up a bit. “Real food” arrived in the form of something that looked like a doughnut but tasted of cheese and some little pies….

…cheese pies! I suspected that definite pattern was taking shape; my suspicions were soon confirmed by the arrival of a platter of mixed cheeses.

Ancient uncle Apostolidias was turning out to be quite entertaining, in distinct contrast to his self righteous and obedient” wife who kept up a steady stream of complaints about everything from the heat outside, the air conditioning inside and the strong smell of cheese.

Apostolidias had joined me in battling the cheesy odors and his wife’s whinging by burying his nose in a wineglass. He was also attacking every plate of food with the gusto of one who knows that his future meals are numbered.

The next dishes to arrive were spit roasted pork and pork sausages. No surprises there then. I nibbled here and there wondering if there was any more pork in the offing and marveling at the capacity of Apostolidias’ stomach as he tucked in and ignored his wife’s mutterings about cholesterol, salt and high blood pressure, he was a man on a mission and didn’t so much as pause for breath when presented with a pork chop.

The waiters were having a hard time finding space on the table and their juggling was fair entertainment in the circumstances. Most of the guests were so full that they couldn’t even look at the chops let alone eat them. The wine on the other hand was disappearing faster than water in an African drought.

At this point the newly engaged couple got up to make a champagne toast and cut the cake which was then deftly removed so that they could dance again. Before long some jolly “let’s all join in” types started bustling round the room dragging reluctant, overfed guests from their seats before herding them onto the dance floor. Even my husband who has two left legs didn’t escape their enthusiasm.

When we returned to our table we found that the waiters had taken advantage of our absence to serve the cake. Completely undaunted by the lack of space they had balanced plates of cake on top of our uneaten chops. Barely able to see each other over the mounds of uneaten food most of the guests, myself included, returned to the dance floor where the effect of the steady stream of wine meant that hair was let down and shoes were kicked off and everybody, including the grumpy aunt but excluding my “I don’t dance, you can’t make me “husband, got down to getting down in a way that only the Greeks can.

As I sashayed past uncle Apostolidias making a death defying leap into the air and kicking one leg up higher than his head I made a mental note to seek him out at the next family gathering and ply him with alcohol. The resultant geriatric acrobatics were a sight to be seen and almost made the combination of almonds cheese and pork worthwhile.

THE ROOM

She sat quite motionless on the wooden straight backed chair.

Her sit up and beg chair.
Gradually it dawned on her that she hadn’t heard the key turn in the lock.

She rose slowly; turning towards the door she took a few hesitant steps across the bare floor. She raised her hand and clutched the dull metal doorknob tightly, twisting it to the left she let out a small exclamation of surprise mixed with apprehension when the door swung effortlessly inwards revealing the impenetrable velvety blackness of the unknown yawning beyond her dimly lit world.

Four walls too close for comfort, a ceiling too low for stretching, and a floor solidly boring.

That chair, her place in this place.

A light bulb, dim, depressing.

Out there beckoned seductively and she yearned to step beyond the confines of the room.

She stood frozen in the portal between conformity and freedom.

It was so long since she had been outside. Why was it so dark? She wanted to see where she was going, what lay ahead.

Feeling the fear welling up inside her she started to panic.

What if…? What if…? What if…?

The inadequate glow of the light bulb called to her, little comfort, the four walls enclosing all that was familiar smirked knowingly as she backed into their embrace and sat on her chair. She left the door open, lacking the courage to step through but not quite willing to give up the dream of freedom.

BLOGGING WITHOUT OBLIGATION

Some of you may have noticed that I haven't been around much lately. This is due to a variety of reasons most of which my friends in the blog sphere are aware of. When I have been around I have noticed that I am not alone in being unable to make regular posts. Some of my favourite blogs are even more sporadic than mine.

When my friend Ann moved recently she added something to her sidebar which caught my eye and my interest. It was a badge which simply stated, "Blogging without obligation". I think it is a great idea. Blogging is a lot of things to a lot of people but I believe that it shouldn't be another obligation, another burden to stress about. I have more than enough stress in my life.

So here is the deal I am not going to worry about what day I post a 55 or a poem or whatever else I might want to publish. I will be here if and when I can and the upshot is that the people who continue to visit me will be the ones who care about who I am and not just how often I comment on their blogs.

I know that some of you will still come over to see my next post and I will visit the blogs I like,when I have time, regardless of whether they commented on my last post so I look forward to seeing you all and I promise to post something amusing sometime soon. HONEST.

If you are interested in joining the ranks of the unobligated bloggers you can click on the badge in my sidebar to read more about it and, if you like, get your own badge

History and Hysteria

November 17th, Cyprus and the Fall of the Junta

The above link tells the story of some not so anciant Greek history.

Every year on this date the schools are closed and thousands of students who weren't born at the time and are now living in a democracy take to the streets, and whenever possible lock themselves in the university to protest past events which cannot be changed. They often manage to destroy valuable equipment in our badly under equipped schools thereby making therir own future and that of the students who will come after them more difficult.




It occurred to me that all over the world wars are being fought and lives are being destroyed by anger about the past. For me this is where the real meaning of the expression "turn the other cheek" ought to come into play. Whether or not you believe that Jesus was the son of God you have to admit he was one smart cookie. What a shame that his words have been recorded in a series of riddles that every Tom, Dick and control freak in a dog collar can twist to mean whatever they want!



So how about it world, are we ready to forgive our enemies? At the end of the day it is all our futures that depend on it.

Any day is a good day to blog for peace.

Lemon Tree Prophecy.

She got sick.

The lemon tree’s leaves withered
She went to the doctor.

We called in a tree surgeon
She started chemotherapy.

The surgeon lopped off diseased limbs
Her dry skin cracked. The new shoots withered
Her toes turned black. Cut down to a stump.
Prognosis negative. We dug up the roots

Now we wait...............................................!

Poems and Replies

My friend Ann has moved her blog, “At Home With Ann” to wordpress so I popped over there to have a look and found a bunch of poems that could have been ripped from the bleeding entrails of my soul.

If you can tear yourself away from the “penis peppers” and scroll down a bit you will find:-


Who knows

Conscience

Love or Lust

Moral Dilemma

After reading them I was prompted to leave the following poem as a comment.
Thank you Ann for being not only a friend but also a kindred spirit and an inspiration.

Tangled Imobility

Is it naive then to seek out the bright spots of colour?
Among the tangled bracken of past mistakes.
If I spot a wild and beautiful flower,
Should I pluck it from the ground?
Inhale its sweet aroma?
Hold it close to my heart?

Will it too wither like other blossoms of my memory?
To become another corpse in my compost of regrets.
If I pass on and leave it unexplored,
Will it not still become an error to abhor?
My heart reaches out; my mind stays the hand,
Frozen by inaction,
I become joy's executioner.

by Cathy

HESITATION

She stood forlornly on the rocks

the waves beckoning.
She concentrated her efforts

on reclaiming the sense of security
the solid ground had once engendered.
She contemplated the death of mermaids.
Wasn’t it better for your soul to become foam on the sea,
Rather than being a twisting knife of uncertainty

in your living flesh.

Sink or Swim

She hadn’t noticed the water rising,
cutting her off from the mainland.

Now she was trapped,

standing on a patch of rapidly shrinking solid ground.

The midday sun,
which had warmed her gently in the morning,
burned down fiercely
adding discomfort to fear.

Today she would learn how to swim or she would drown.

SOUND BITES

M. “You just said sizzling.”

C. “Bacon.”

M “Bacon and sausages and other stuff that sizzles?”

C. “Yes.”

M. “Now you’ve made me hungry
but I haven’t got anything that sizzles
unless I burn some soup.”

-------------------------------------------

Girl 1. “Men are like nail varnish.”

Girl 2. “Nail varnish?”

Girl !. “Sure, you don’t really need it but it’s nice to have.”

Girl 2. “ You wouldn’t want to wear the same colour all the time though.”

Girl 1. “ Acetone!”

LOST

Seeking answers,
Finding confusion.

.

Seeking comfort,
Embracing illusion

.

Seeking the future,
Losing the past.

.

Seeking stability,
Sinking fast.

.

Turning, ever turning,
So many questions burning,

.

Branding pain inside
Nowhere left to hide.

.

Impossible to stay,
Unthinkable to go.

.

No “right thing to do”
Family breakdown,

.

Catch 22.

WHOSE LIFE IS IT ANYWAY?

Her daughters sat at the table eating lunch.

In the same places they sat for every meal.

How would they feel about sitting at a different table,

in a different house, surrounded by strange furniture?

Speaking a strange language to strangers,

being foreigners.

What was more important?

Whose happiness mattered most?

She knew the answer…

BLOG AGAINST ABUSE

womanabuseprevention

a song

EPITAPH

Home is hell and the hearth is cold
And the only heat I know
Burns in a stranger’s soul

I’m running away from sanctuary
Seeking answers in the night
Fleeing into danger, fearing the light

Hanging on for duty’s sake
When all the love is dead
Sounds like such a noble deed
But it’s messing up my head

I’m running away from sanctuary
Seeking answers in the night
Fleeing into danger, fearing the light

We’ve talked things through so many times
Circling round each others pain
Now the words have lost all meaning
They echo their sad refrain
Not looking for solutions
Just trying to lay the blame
But whether it’s you or me or both of us
The result is just the same

I’m running away from sanctuary
Seeking answers in the night
Fleeing into danger, fearing the light

Battles fought in whispers
Just so the kids won’t hear
Add to the frozen silence
Another type of fear

I’m running away from sanctuary
Seeking answers in the night
Fleeing into danger, fearing the light

My body lies here beside you
Though my heart has taken flight
Because I can’t pick up the pieces
Of another pointless fight

Home is hell and the hearth is cold
And the only heat I know
Burns in a stranger’s soul

I’m running away from sanctuary
Seeking answers in the night
Fleeing into danger, fearing the light

THE DEAD ZONE

The corpse lies here in the silent house, reproaching me with its presence. The exact time of its demise so hard to pinpoint. Its death throes seemed to last forever. “I died from neglect.” It accuses me wordlessly. And though I know that I was not the only one to blame I can’t help wondering if I could have done more to prevent the final, irrevocable outcome.

NO! I did my best! I nursed the ailing patient until my bones ached and my heart grew weary from the effort, performing the kiss of life, as best I could, on numerous occasions; fighting to breathe animation into the doomed and dying creature.; refusing to recognize that its feeble movements and lackluster response mocked the futility of my efforts.

It has been here now for much too long. A pale accusation, pointing judgemental fingers at my beleagured soul. The albatross of my marriage bears me to the ground. Its deadweight threatening to crush my soul.

I am imprisoned by the bars of my wedding vows but just lately the stench of decay, filling my nostrils and stinging my eyes with tears of remorse, has become unbearable.

The burial is long overdue.

Time to call in the undertakers.

.

.

.

So It Ends

Grief grabs me by the throat
Choking out joy
A river of sadness
Pours from my eyes
I am empty inside
As love dies.

.

.

.

.

ALMOST APOCALYPSE

The four horsemen of the apocalypse rode out into the sunshine of another summer’s day. Three of them were girls. They would start their tour of destruction in the back garden.

But first there were daisy chains to be made and butterflies to be chased. The boy dangled his toes in the water of the stream which bubbled along at the bottom of the hill. There would be hell to pay when mother found out but demonic angels were accustomed to adversity and later was a long time in the future.

The youngest girl interrupted her butterfly chase to scrunch her eyes shut as a bee flew by too close for comfort. “A pestilence on all bees!” she announced to the indifferent blue sky. She wasn’t sure what a pestilence was but it sounded like a good way of avoiding bee stings.

The eldest girl tried hard to avoid the rumblings of her stomach as she concentrated on making a flower necklace for pestilence, who was fond of such fripperies. She wished that she had eaten some breakfast though it didn’t seem like an appropriate way to bring about famine and anyway she was on a diet. Daddy didn’t like fat girls.

War was having similar thoughts as she attacked the crisps, which she had smuggled out of the kitchen along with a bottle of pop. What daddy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, she thought as she battled to unscrew the top from the lemonade bottle.

The morning stretched out in front of them, an endless panorama of possibilities. It would be a shame to bring the world to an end before they had explored some of them. The four gathered under a great oak tree to discuss the situation in the cool of its tranquil shade. A unanimous decision was reached to delay the apocalypse until after lunch, which was a lifetime away.

War mustered her forces, cunningly disguised as trees, she shouted commands to the sentinel bodies of the attentive forest and pestilence ran away from a huge spider wishing heartily that all insects would get sick so that they would have to stay in bed. Famine pondered the problem of what if anything she should eat for lunch as she tied off the daisy chain and set about making a matching bracelet. The boy, otherwise known as death wandered away on his own, he had some time to kill…..

Puppy Love

“Love me.” You beg,
With your big brown doggy eyes.
We are not so different,
You and I.

SELECTIVE DEAFNESS

I speak,
My words,
Falling like pebbles,
Into a lake of silence.

No ripple,
No response,
They drown,

In your indifference

.

Photo by Erin McKittrick

CHUFFING MEME!

Just when I thought it was safe to come out of the water and nip back to Athens for the weekend AZZITIZZ, who I recently gave a shout out, bloody well tags me.
I am supposed to tell you the rules but, quite frankly it isn’t rocket science so if you can’t work them out by reading the post you probably ought to run for president.

1. Every time I say that I am not going to do another meme it turns out to be a big fat lie.
2. I can hop for quite an impressive distance across very hot sand (I found this out last week when I stepped on a wasp at the beach).
3, I have overcome my fear of cockroaches (killing dozens of the things on a daily basis at our holiday let is excellent therapy).
4. Every time I see a bride being transported to church I get an almost irresistible urge to run after her screaming “DON’T DO IT! DON’T DO IT!”
5. I hate listening to squeaky/ high pitched voices so Mickey Mouse annoys the hell out of me.
6. I REALLY hate clowns, I may have mentioned this before but it bears repeating.
7. Hell will freeze over before I do a HNT,
8. YOUR TURN .What do you THINK you know about me?

Now it is my turn to tag:-

Tina, A post, a post…If only to cock my leg on.
Pauline. Keep it in the family.
Puerileuwaite. Well overdue!
Myutopia, nice name.
Sugar Smacks. Should be interesting
Blancodeviosa. She loves memes as much as I do.
Squirl, I don’t visit her nearly as much as I should.
Top Cat, for being a cool cat, and an “awesome dude”

SHOUTOUT

I HAVE jUST FOUND THIS BLOGGER AZZITIZZ. SHE IS HILARIOUS!
Visit her at her "totally transparent party" blog.

STONEY GROUND

Let me in I beg,
Open the door.
Too long I have stood
Outside in the cold.

Slowly I am freezing,
And my heart has lost all feeling’
For the man whose children I have borne,
For the man with whom I share a home.

But your blank look is all I see.
Your mind is closed and locked to me.
Trapped within your lonely walls.
Unable it seems to answer my calls.

So we wait,
We two,
Together but apart,
As love turns to hate.
And petrifies my heart.

.

LULU ROCKS AND SO DO I !

My blogging friend Queenie has very kindly seen fit to give me a rockin' girl blogger award. It was bright pink but another of my friends, Dan, helped me out by changing the colour to blue so that it would match my blog's colour scheme. I would have nominatedDan but as heisn't a girl I restrained myself. Someone who is a bit quicker than me though nominated his cat Lulu so I am now in very exalted company indeed. Now it is my turn to nominate five lucky ladies for this distinction:-
My first choice is Lime and not because I have a green button. On the contrary the green button was made because there is lime.
Second in my illustrious line-up comes my sister Pauline. Not because she is my sister but because her blog really rocks.
My third choice is the incomparable Logo who is as witty a biking blogger as you could wish to meet.
Fourth in my line- up is Blancodeviosa becauseI love her pics and poetry as well as her "don't give me any shit"attitude.
Last but by no means least, my fifth choice for a rockin' girlblogger award is Tina.
Now she will have to post.





If I could I would nominate at least another five
but I guess it would be bending the rules too far
so I will have to make do with naming them:
miss understood, sugar smacks, groovy lady,
Ann, Val and Ali.
I will get you next time or develop the know how
to create an award of my own in the autumn.

INTERACTIVE QUOTES

NOTE: This post is incomplete and I will be adding to it whenever I am in Athens over the coming weeks if any of you want to join in send me an email and I will add your contribution along with a link to your blog (don't forget that you can quote from your own posts and comments sections). Please be patient as I will only be able to update once a week when I have access to my PC.


EDITED 29/06/07.
NEW ADDITIONS, SONGS & BLOGGER CONTRIBUTIONS.


Attributing quotes is hardly an original theme for a post but I was hoping to be able to inject a little extra something to boost your interest, so here it is. I am going to list various categories of quotes and challenge you to find the sources. However in an attempt to befuddle your brains I will try to ensure that some of them are not googlable (I may have invented a new word there) and just to make it even more fun some will be complete fabrications.
One category “post comments” will be comments taken either from any of my posts or from the posts of any of the people I link to or who leave comments on my blog. This is going to be a monster undertaking and will remain ‘active” even if I post again before all the quotes are attributed. So with no further ado let’s get the ball rolling….

CATEGORIES:
MUSIC, HUMOUR, BOOKS, FILMS, PHILOSOPHY, BLOG COMMENTS, SPORTS, QUASI QUOTES


MIXED BAG

1 “Anybody who believes that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach flunked geography.”
2 My advice to you is not to inquire why or whither, but just enjoy your ice cream while it's on your plate -- that's my philosophy.
3 I couldn't find my socks this morning so I called information, the girl said 'they're behind the sofa'...and they were.”
4 "Ah! Isn't that nice, the wife of the Cambridge President is kissing the cox of the Oxford crew." 5 “Remember, if you smoke after sex you're doing it too fast. “
6 Philosophy, n. A route of many roads leading from nowhere to nothing
7 “Don't knock masturbation - it's sex with someone I love.”
8 "If it moves, fuck it!. If it doesn't move fuck it til it does!”
9 "The Port Elizabeth ground is more of a circle than an oval. It's long and square."
10 “There are two sides to every divorce: Yours and shithead's.
11 “Science is what you know. Philosophy is what you don't know.”
12 There is no statement so absurd that no philosopher will make it.
13 "Bill Frindal has done a bit of mental arithmetic with a calculator."
14 For women the best aphrodisiacs are words. The G-spot is in the ears. He who looks for it below there is wasting his time.
15 “For the first time in history, sex is more dangerous than the cigarette afterward. “
16 “Sex is not the answer. Sex is the question. "Yes" is the answer. “
17 "And the first three cars are all Escorts, which isn't surprising as this is an all Escort race."
18 "The beak of Ayrton Senna's chicken is pulling ahead."
19 “Men get laid, but women get screwed.”
20 “Life in Lubbock, Texas, taught me two things: One is that God loves you and you're going to burn in hell. The other is that sex is the most awful, filthy thing on earth and you should save it for someone you love. “
21 “To hear many religious people talk, one would think God created the torso, head, legs and arms, but the devil slapped on the genitals. “
22 My reaction to porn films is as follows: After the first ten minutes, I want to go home and screw. After the first 20 minutes, I never want to screw again as long as I live
23 There is nothing wrong with going to bed with someone of your own sex. People should be very free with sex, they should draw the line at goats
24 A woman's appetite is twice that of a man's; her sexual desire, four times; her intelligence, eight times
25 The good thing about masturbation is that you don't have to get dressed up for it
26 Whoever called it necking was a poor judge of anatomy.
27 Sex is emotion in motion.
28 Why should we take advice on sex from the pope? If he knows anything about it, he shouldn't 29 We have reason to believe that man first walked upright to free his hands for masturbation.”
30 On the other hand... You have different fingers.
31 "Watch the time - it gives you an indication of how fast they are running."
32 I got a sweater for Christmas... I wanted a screamer or a moaner.
33 I know nothing about sex, because I was always married.
34 Continental people have sex lives; the English have hot-water bottles
35 Sex at age ninety is like trying to shoot pool with a rope.
36 "As Phil De Glanville said, each game is unique, and this one is no different to any other."
37 Sex: the pleasure is momentary, the position ridiculous, and the expense damnable.
38 Men reach their sexual peak at eighteen. Women reach theirs at thirty-five. Do you get the feeling that God is playing a practical joke
39 Isn't it interesting how the sounds are the same for an awful nightmare and great sex?
40 To succeed with the opposite sex, tell her you're impotent. She can't wait to disprove it.
41 Tell him I've been too fucking busy - or vice versa.
42 I love the lines the men use to get us into bed. "Please, I'll only put it in for a minute." What am I, a microwave?
43 "Martin Brundle's got a bald spot - he won't be pleased about that..."



BLOGGERS COMMENTS / POST QUOTES


ON THIS BLOG


1.Be good when you finish it!
2. backside outside in the outback. ...LMAO :)
3. That's cool. And very, very purple. LOL! Seriously though, I have dipped in there a bit and it all blows my mind.
4. Mike .Don’t get me started on incongruent concepts and existentialism one blog just wouldn’t contain my ramblings
5. Sorry, ignore my last comment. I didn't realize it was a bloggers' love-in.
6. I'm kind of old fashioned but seeing one's sister using terms like "breaking the seal" is kind of disturbing to one.
7. That's it. I'm changing my panhandling sign to: "Will CRITICIZE for food".
8. The only thing you should be sticking in that man is sharp and made of metal.
9. Dan – glad you found the time to drop by. I saw your response which said you would visit, it’s been like waiting for the gas man.

ON OTHER BLOGS

1. “Necrophilia means never having to say you're sorry...”

2. Meme this you bastard!

3. I’m a sick, twisted woman who for some perverse reason gets pleasure out of embarrassing my kids for no reason at all other than I think it’s funny.


4. I'm not sure if that's a look of disgust or gratitude on his face.


5. The complexity of the books ranges from "very difficult" to "I've just had two six-packs and a bottle of red wine and it's just now beginning to make sense to me".

WHICH FILM ?

1. Salesman:” Put a pretty girl inside those and she needn't be ashamed of herself anywhere”. Traveller: “All right. Bring it back to me when it's filled."



WHICH SONG ?

1. Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose.
2. I don't need no money, fortune, or fame. I got all the riches baby, one man can claim.
3. I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.
4. I'd rather be a hammer than a nail.
5. It seems to me, sorry seems to be the hardest word.
6. Await your arrival with simple survival, and one day we'll all understand.
7. My uniform is leather and my power is my age.
8. Once upon a time I was falling in love, now I'm only falling apart.
9. Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea. All we do, crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see...
10. Some people never come clean, I think you know what I mean. You're walking a wire between pain and desire, and looking for love in-between.
11. The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls.
12. We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl year after year.
13. With my New York brim and my gold tooth displayed, nobody give me trouble cause they know I've got it made.
14. You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows.
15. Free your mind and your ass will follow.
16. You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain, too much love drives a man insane.
17. You would think with all the genius and the brilliance of these times, we might find a higher purpose and a better use of mind.
18. Complain about the future and blame it on the past, I'd like to find your inner child and kick its little ass
19. Hit me with a shovel, because I can't believe I dug you.
20. I wish you luck with a capital F.
21, Kiss me where the sun don't shine, the past was yours, the future's mine.
22. Ram it up your poop chute.
23. Sit and spin 'til you rot on the cosmic utensil.
24. They asked me for some collateral and I pulled down my pants.
25. You can speak your mind, but not on my time.
26. As the people grow colder, I turn to my computer and spend my evenings with it like a friend.
27. Everyone of them words rang true and glowed like burning coal, pouring off every page like it was written in my soul from me to you.
28.I bathe in the sun in the morning, lemon circles swim in the tea. Fishing for time with a wishing line, and throwing it back in the sea.
29. Picture yourself on a boat on a river with tangerine trees and marmalade skies.
30. Shadows on the hills, sketch the trees and daffodils, catch the breeze and the winter chills, in the colors on the snow linen land.
31. Through the window in the wall, come streaming in on sunlight wings, a million bright ambassadors of morning.
32. Your fingers weave quick minarets, speak in secret alphabets.


BLOGGER CONTRIBUTIONS


1. "Sex and golf are the two things you can enjoy even if you're not good at them."
( from ebezp)


2. "Anyone who says that gratuitous sex is no substitute for gratuitous violence obviously hasn't had enough gratuitous sex."
( from ebezp)




PS. If you hate this kind of post you could always read something from the archives I will still get your comments via email.

STEPFATHER

Who is he?
This tall interloper,
This lanky streak of piss,
Who does he think we are?
Does he think we’re his?

He really ought to leave now.
I’m sure father’s coming back.
There isn’t room for all of us.
Surely he can see that.

What is mother doing?
With flowers in her hair.
Greeting wedding guests,
Like she doesn’t have a care.

Can’t she see it’s wrong
To bring this stranger here.
This taker of lost families,
Who keeps calling her his dear….

”If anyone here present knows of just cause
why these two may not be joined in holy matrimony,
speak now or forever hold thy peace”

UNINSPIRED

She staggered out of bed, swirling thoughts trying to pull her back into the bliss of rainbow dreams. What the hell was happening to time? The weeks were passing in a blur so it seemed like Fridays were coming in bunches, like bananas. Time to write a 55, Was it possible without inspiration? Apparently yes.

The pic is just so I can look at lime over my glasses.

FAMILY SECRETS

She was hiding a dirty secret and I was going to get it out of her. Susan would have to come clean, or else! I dragged her up the stairs, she was unable to resist or defend herself against my manic determination. .Pushing open the door to the utilities room I bundled her inside, I didn’t want the rest of the family to know what I was doing. I was sure they would try to stop me. Susan slumped dejectedly in the corner staring up at me. There was no fear in her unblinking gaze, she was oblivious to the danger.

I got to work, I soon realized that using my hands was not going to be sufficient, I would have to take drastic steps to accomplish my task. I didn’t hang around to witness the effect of my actions, there would be plenty of time later to observe the results.

Time to pick the children up from school. The important thing was to act normally, they must suspect nothing, of course they noticed her absence but I kept my cool, feigning ignorance of her whereabouts. The rest of the day passed with agonizing slowness, every minute felt like an hour. Eventually the girls’ bedtime arrived. Once I was sure that they were settled in for the night and there was no danger of being followed I climbed the stairs once again to finish off my business.

Gazing down at her wretched form I was shocked by the extent of damage that my ministrations had caused, the mess was unbelievable. There was a terrible gash across her belly and her insides spilled out in an untidy heap across the floor. A similar wound across her neck had left her head hanging limply to one side as if she were asking a silent question.

Overwhelmed with remorse I sank into a nearby chair wondering how I could explain it to the children. They had been so fond of this creature, lavishing affection on her. She had never criticized for her shortcomings as I so often was, despite this I was filled with sadness by her demise.

Some teddy bears just couldn’t take the rough and tumble of a machine wash

BREAKING ALL THE RULES...not a 55

Forbidden Fruit

My heart is heavy in my breast.
I toss and turn, I cannot rest.
What I have I would reject.
What I want I can’t expect.

I’d gladly take you in my arms,
Though all your words are practiced charms.
You’ve travelled on this road before,
I’m nothing special, just one more.

Yet I would gladly leave my own,
To spend one night with you alone.
This for you a moment’s pleasure,
But for me a priceless treasure.

By Cathy

NOT HNT

Paradise Hotel.

I really had to thank VAL for posting some beautiful images

of my favourite actor

HERE and HERE

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FOR the Ladies who don't share my enthusiasm

for Vincent D'Onofrio.....

..... How about visiting THE CHIPPENDALES at their website.

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What about the men?

Sorry guys but cyber space isn't exactly short of stuff to tickle your fancy!

You really don't need me to join in.

One of Those Days!

Have you ever had “one of those days”?
Some people might say it was “The Story of My Life”, I wouldn’t go that far but just lately it does seem to me that they are occurring on a monotonously regular basis.



Therefore I was less than astounded at my own absentmindedness when I recently applied a liberal amount of toothpaste onto a handy Bic razor which had somehow found its way into my grasp instead of the toothbrush which I had intended to pick up. Not to worry, my lacerated gums will soon heal and in the meantime not being able to put anything in my mouth will have a sterling effect on my diet, if not my love life. I cannot deny that these little happenstances don’t, as often as not, lead to positive outcomes. I’ve always been lucky like that.



Which leads us right into the next event in this comedy of errors, you really do need to keep your wits about you when attending to early morning ablutions unfortunately mine tend to be still asleep under the pillow and offer me no assistance whatsoever, so when I applied a handful of extra strong hold hair mousse to my face and rubbed it in before realizing that it was not moisturizing cream it was something of a bonus to realize that the almost instantaneous lifting and firming effect was much more pronounced than that promised by the manufacturers of the more expensive face product. I immediately made a mental note to buy a bigger bottle of the stuff to see if something can’t be done about my saggy buns.

I should at this point warn you that improvising whilst pursuing your beauty regime should be done with extreme caution and attention to detail. I have just recalled an incident which although it occurred two years ago still has the ability to make my eyes water when I think about it.

My husband announced, quite out of the blue, that it was a nice day for the beach and told me to get myself and the kids kitted out forthwith to take advantage of his magnanimous gesture. Easier said than done as being the beginning of the summer I had not yet done a check of what swimwear was still wearable and indeed hadn’t yet attended to other factors such as “doing my bikini line” and thereby making it possible for me to wear a bathing suit. I hastily packed a bag before dashing into the bathroom to attend to the necessary task. Thinking it would save time I grabbed my hubby’s shaving mousse and slapped a good dollop on my (!), In no time at all I was doing a very good impression of a rain dancing Indian As I grabbed the offending can to discover the reason for my screaming agony I was dismayed to read WITH ADDED MENTHOL FOR A TINGLING FRESH FEELING ! Oh me! Tingle was not the adjective that came to my mind as I feverishly grabbed the shower attachment to assuage my hurt.

I now prefer waxing; on the whole it is less painful.


I could continue but the tears in my eyes are making it difficult to see so I will end by asking if any of you have an anecdote of your own to add…..

Veggie Trouble.

I am sure there was some spinach pie left:
surely HE can’t have eaten it!

I’ll put some carrots on his plate at teatime.

……Carrots all gone, he’s eaten them!

His voice floats up the stairwell,
“put some tomato on my sandwich, will you?”

What’s going on here?

I think he’s been reading my blog!!!
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If you didn't read last week's 55 you may not understand this one so scroll down a bit.

NOW do you understand?

MEET MY FAMILY

Some of you are already aware that Michael is my brother and a handful have read some of Maria's (my mother) poetry so now I am going to introduce my sister Pauline, who is about to launch a blog of her own. I for one can't wait.



Doesn't Play Nicely With Others


You see that girl hanging round our house
With no friends to go out with at night
She lives in a world of imagine
With no other person in sight

Oh yes, she can talk about engines
and Leonardo's theories on flight
Or discuss at great length metaphysics
or even why animals may bite

But she doesn't know much about make up
or shopping for clothes come to that
In fact she looks like a bag lady
she's just short of a shawl and a hat

Don't talk to her please, she's our sister
Although that may give you a fright
She doesn't play nicely with others
So we don't let her into the light

by Pauline


Note to Pauline, Come into the light. Post something on your own blog.

The way to a man’s heart attack is through his stomach.

She was cooking his favourite food. A dutiful and diligent wife ought to attend to her husband’s needs; Six rashers of bacon, two sausages, a couple of fried eggs and plenty of French fries; might as well add a grilled tomato for show.
Cooking for him was murder, but it would be difficult to prove.

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Late addition. My sister sent me a 55 and is threatening to start blogging. Yeah!

Twas brilig and the slithy toves had just done gyring and gymbling in the mire and were wondering what to do next. The borogroves were still a bit mimsy and probably not ready to drink yet. The threshers were shut and the sans berets couldn't sell borogroves after 3pm on a brilig. Oh mire !

In An Emergency.......Pray You're Not in Greece

I haven’t been around much for the last couple of days. The reason for this is that my mum in law, Elevtheria, who is in poor health contracted a tummy bug to add to her other troubles. She probably caught it from me but whereas I just felt under the weather for a couple of days Elevtheria had a temperature of 102 and barfed enough to fill several blogs for the foreseeable future.

Things got so bad that on Sunday I decided to take her to the emergency room. This is “a big story” in Greece, meaning it is a lot of bother as opposed to an untrue story, as my brother explained in his last post, "Big Stories". I was advised, by a second cousin twice removed, that in order to avoid waiting for six hours or more to get through the door we should call an ambulance. This part was easy I dialed 166 and was suitably impressed that we only had to wait half an hour for it to arrive.

I left my children in the capable and loving hands of my dear friend Tina and set off for my first ride in a Greek ambulance. I was in for another surprise it actually had a gurney in it AND sick bags! I once asked my husband if ambulance attendants here have to be qualified and he told me that if you are lucky the guy behind the steering wheel has a driving license. When we arrived at the hospital I gave the ambulance attendants a 20 dollar hand shake, you never know when you might need another ambulance and they WILL remember. This little trick got us past the other poor souls dying in the corridor and directly into the emergency examination area. Have any of you seen “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest”? I think the entire cast was in that room, and that was just the doctors.

So there I was surrounded by about 30 assorted fools, drunks, madmen and almost corpses, accompanied by my rainbow shouting mum in law, in a room that was about 12 square feet in size, and a few of them were clubbed feet at that! I encouraged Elevtheria to shout a bit louder as she barfed for the umpteenth time that day and God bless her she got right into the spirit of the thing. She even managed to make more noise than the alcoholic in the corner who seemed to be suffering from a case of the DTs. I’m not sure if it was her enthusiastic chundering or my hearty congratulations that got their attention but two harassed looking interns were soon writing up a bunch of tests and giving her a shot of something or other.

On to the next hurdle, one of the interns babbled a list of instructions and directions that sounded completely Greek to me, probably because they were. I bribed a passing person in green baggy clothes (who could have been the head surgeon for all I knew) to find me a wheelchair then we set off on the next leg of our hospitalathon (it could well make it into the next Olympics the way things are going, along with snowball fights for the winter
games). Actually getting that wheel chair out into the corridor was a gargantuan task. Elevtheria, exhausted by her award winning aria and the subsequent prodding flopped gratefully into the perambulatory vehicle and left me to it. No help was at hand from the ailing allsorts so I backed towards the double swing doors apologizing to everybody as I ran over their toes and slightly encouraged by the alcoholics excellent impression of a banshee (“Oooooo eeeeee ooooo eeeeeee oooooo eeeee!!”) I lent backwards and head butted my way into the corridor. Well that was the general idea but in fact what happened was that as my head passed through the doors they swung back into place so that my head was in the corridor whilst the rest of my body along with my mother in law and the wheel chair were still inside the examination room.

I could turn my head just enough to see the interested stares of some of the walking wounded lining the corridor. They were perking up a bit, not many things provide entertainment at the ER on a Sunday afternoon and my little dilemma must have looked pretty promising to them. OK, time for my world famous human banana impression! A mini space walk managed to get my feet into a position that made it possible to put pressure on the door with my heels. The pressure on my neck started to ease as I slid my feet backwards and outwards pulling on the wheelchair as I reversed. The onlookers seemed genuinely pleased by my progress but they weren’t going to spoil the fun by offering any kind of assistance, apart from one game soul on a gurney who waved an arm in encouragement almost dislodging his IV in the process. I was about as close to doing the splits as I am ever going to get when the wheel chair decided to join the party and my own version of the evolution of dance moved into spasmodic jive mode as I fought against the momentum to avoid running myself over with my mother in laws transportation, finishing off with a little rain dance(silly not to really) and a nonchalant twirl to reposition the wheelchair I set off down the corridor towards the x-ray department aided by pieces of paper, cellotaped to the pea green walls at irregular intervals, with little arrows drawn on them in felt tip pen.

Once we had finished with x-rays, blood tests and the like we proceeded to the admissions area which had two six bed temporary wards and about 50 patients. As it turned out the bribe for the wheelchair was money well spent as Elevtheria would probably have been sat on the floor otherwise. I tripped up a passing nurse to get her attention and shoved our paperwork into her hand. I felt bad about this later when I realized that there were only 2 nurses on duty and no doctors. The doctors showed up at 9pm, 3 hours later, pronounced my mother in law fit to go and sent us home.

I cannot say that some of that time wasn’t profitably spent, for one thing once news got round that Elevtheria was unwell various cousins, uncles and their dogs joined us, two of them traveling over 100km to do so, and an impromptu family reunion took place. In addition to which I discovered the toilet facilities to be in such an abominably filthy condition that I searched out a mop and bucket and cleaned them myself figuring that 2 nurses to 50+ patients added up to no cleaners within a mile of the building Just before we left I went out to the canteen to get a bottle of drinking water and was horrified to see some poor chap propped up against the trunk of a tree with his IV resting in the branches, I can only hope that he had popped out for a cigarette.

My mum in law then spent her third night in a row “talking on the big white telephone to God” so today I went totally Greek and took her to a doctor who ” knows” us, in other words someone we have bribed on a regular basis ever since Elevtheria started her battle against cancer 12 years ago. A 50 dollar handshake later my mum in law was finally admitted to hospital and is now being cared for by people who know which side their bread is buttered.

55 Flash Fiction - Emotional Fallout

OVERDOSE

“You have to drink this. No, don’t fall asleep!”
The insistent voice comes from a long way away close by.
The glass is pushed up to her mouth once more.
Gagging on the salty liquid she pulls away vomiting into the sink.
Hearing the ambulance siren approaching
she wonders why they won’t let her die.

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FIRST AID

I must remain calm, now more than ever.

Seeing the salty spittle bubbling on my daughter’s lips

I feel fear squeezing my throat, don’t panic. Bastard!
“You have to drink this. No, don’t fall asleep!”
I mustn’t forget to take the bottle with me to show the doctors.

Why is the ambulance taking so long?

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CUTTING ALL TIES

Who the hell could be phoning him at this time of night.
He listened to the sobbing almost hysterical voice of his estranged wife.
There was no way he was going anywhere at this time of night.
What kind of a guilt trip was she trying to lay on him anyway?
She would cope alone.

WTF!!!

Five Fave Food Places,
Oh my gods tagged again this time by EBEZP with the food meme.
The rules:
1. Add a direct link to your post below the name of the person who tagged you. Include the city/state and country you’re in.

Nicole (Sydney, Australia)
velverse (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia)
LB (San Giovanni in Marignano, Italy)
Selba (Jakarta, Indonesia)
Olivia (London, England)
ML (Utah, USA)
Lotus (Toronto, Canada)
tanabata (Saitama, Japan)
Andi (Dallas [ish], Texas, United States)
Todd (Louisville, Kentucky, United States)
miss kendra (Los Angeles, California, U.S.A)
Jiggs Casey (Berkeley, CA, USA! USA! USA!)
Lee Ann (Birmingham, AL, United States)
EBEZP (Wirral, Merseyside, UK)
CATHY (Athens, Attica, Greece)

2. List your top 5 favourite places to eat at your location.

RIGHT LET’S GET THIS OVER WITH.

The Chinese in Haidari.

It’s close to home and not Greek.

--------------------------------The Mexican restaurant at the village centre.

They have the best chocolate soufflé that
I have ever tasted.

Though that is not Mexican food,

whatever.



George’s souvlaki shop
I have no idea where it is.

My husband does the driving
while I just space out
and compose my next post.








Tassos, near George’s souvlaki shop.

It’s got a playground for the kids
so I get to eat in relative peace and quiet
and the salads are nice too.



The Apolis in Petropoulis, I’m not making this up honest. This is on top of a hill and you can see the Acropolis in the distance. It has coffee shops, bars, a disco, function room as well as indoor and outdoor restaurants. It also belongs to one of my husband’s relatives which is why I know so much about it.

NOW WHO TO DO UP LIKE A CHRISTMAS TURKEY THIS TIME?

1. Hale McKay ( because I think he might like this one, though I could be wrong)
2. puerileuwaite ( because he will undoubtedly give it a humourous twist)
3. Tina ( she takes a sick and perverted pleasure in doing memes)
4. charles (because I think he will do a good job of it, honestly!)
5. G-man (because he won't mind)

Ode to Conscience

Without your weight,
My anchor to the ground.
I would fly away,
Disappear into the clouds,
Blow with the breeze,
Flee into the night,
To dance among the stars,
Twinkling, shining.



Without your stern disapproval,
Your frown of conformity.
I would sing by bubbling brooks,
Dangling my toes in the water,
Run naked through the grass,
Roll down hills laughing,
And pick flowers from the hedgerows,
To wear in my hair.

Without your ancient attitude,
Your melancholy depth,
I could be forever,
The child I never was.

Survivor

Her limbs are so heavy; she is pinned helpless to the bed. How can a head filled with mist weigh so much? It is impossible to raise it from the pillow. Even as she calls for help she knows there will be no response. It would have been better to be located at ground zero.

Barf on a Blog!

When I started my blog it was a bit of an experiment to see if I could do it. The things that I posted were really just for my own benefit, to get them out of my head so to speak. I could compare it to puking on the pavement after drinking too much on a night out.
So when people started visiting to read my posts and comment on them it was a bit like having passers-by stop to examine the curbside chunder and admire the chunks. This is where things get quantum on us, observation changing the thing observed and all that.
I found myself impelled to re-arrange the diced carrots in my verbal vomit in an attempt to make them more pleasing to the eye. What is the point of this sick aside? You may well ask, and quite right to!
The point is that if I see my posts as a form of artfully arranged spew then what are memes?
Memes my friends are the equivalent of someone else throwing-up, collecting the resultant mess in a bag and passing it on to their fellow bloggers to see what they can make of it.
That said I will now proceed to re-hash Sugar Smack’s regurgitations passed to me this morning in an airline sick bag cunningly disguised as a comment on one of my posts.

Here it is: The Education Meme

What was the name of the teacher that was most influential in your life from grades K through 6?
I have barely started and I’m breaking the mold already because I am going to name 2 teachers. The first one was called Neville and I can’t remember his surname because we used to call him Neville the Notorious Noodle Nosher, I think my sister Pauline came up with the name and looking at it now I may have inadvertently stumbled upon the root cause of my fondness for alliteration (thanks Pol). The reason I remember him is because he was my first “crush” I must have been all of eight years old at the time. He played the guitar and sang to us!
My second choice is Mr. Dewhurst. He was a God among pedagogs in my view and I credit him with my appreciation of classical music, my love of nature, my enthusiasm for the written word and my interest in the arts in general. He also taught me to add up so he was pretty useful. I still think of him when I stop to listen to birdsong even though I haven’t seen him in thirty years.

What subject did you favor in high school?
Here we go again. The only subjects I didn’t like were athletics (because I sucked), cooking (because it was too easy) and sewing. I still hate sewing. The teachers were all shriveled up old bitches (up yours Miss Fowl!!) .

Did you attend a university and if so, did you attain a degree?
No and no.

Do you learn best through books, by watching, or hands-on?
When I get my hands on a book I watch the words dancing on the page.
OK, I’ll behave now. I think this depends on what is being learnt and not who is learning it.
Though I have met people who might as well be blind, illiterate double amputees judging by what they know.

Has education been an ongoing process for you?
How do you feel about that?
Learning and self improvement are ongoing processes that should continue throughout life (unless you are a blind, illiterate double amputee). Education on the other hand is a euphemism for processing human beings so that they fit neatly into boxes and become “useful” members of society. I am not well educated.

What seven people are you tagging to do this?
Now let’s see, who do I want to piss off on this fine spring morning?

Mona. She could put an extra twist in a corkscrew.
Charles. He likes putting things in boxes when he isn’t torturing cats.
Tina. She never gets angry with me.
Michael. Keep it in the family.
S. Revenge for Rufus on the wrong day.
And now for the mad bit the next and last tag is a blog that I don’t know from Adam which I found by hitting the “next blog” button until I found something that wasn’t in Italian, religious, political or pornographic. It took a while I can tell you!

Lost in Suburbia