Two weeks since we got back from Agios Nikolaos. Which means we’ve been back for as long as were there. The attraction hasn’t faded, and probably never will. I am grateful for the fact that the two weeks we were there for didn’t seem to go by as quickly as the two weeks we’ve been back for. It reinforces my irrational and visceral view that there is something magical about that place, that there has to be something magical about that place. Yesterday, I started reading Zorba The Greek which I bought in a bookshop in AN after a long evening walk when M needed some more books, and I couldn’t resist buying Zorba and The Fratricides. When in Crete, do as the Cretans do. And Zorba is already proving a joy, a slightly dated joy, I guess, but a joy nonetheless. I was going to say odd how quickly life can change, but that’s not odd at all. It’s what life does to all of us.
The heat has been bearing down on us all today, and my timing is all out. I should have finished this by now, but got distracted by taking half-hourly breaks in the cooler house when it really just got too hot in here. I know I always talk about how I like the warmth, but I’m not talking about these apocalyptic temperatures, I’m talking about 18-20C at night and 25C during the day. Temperatures to live comfortably by. And today, of course, the thought crosses my mind again about that magic material I’m sure must exist or be inventable and affordable that stores all of summer’s excess heat and lets us keep it for the winter, and which has no adverse environmental impacts. Humankind is missing a trick somewhere, but then that’s possibly karma, because if you do something for profit and to exploit, nature won’t let you get away with it, not ultimately.
The evening is settling on the parched grass. Even the medlar trees look fried, despite getting regular water out of the watering can. The wind is blowing strongly into the wings of the brass garden mill (or whatever you call it) I got M for Christmas, and which she put together a week and a half ago. I keep asking myself how I could get it to generate electricity without disfiguring it, but I’ve not made the time to think about that either. So many things in my head. Too many thing, and I can’t find the compartments to lock up some of the less desirable things and thoughts. Maybe that’s a strength, and not a weakness.
Missing Bake-Off: The Professionals again, because my timing’s out. Hell, it’s only telly, not real life. But I like the judges’ accents and voices. They make me feel like the UK is still part of a greater better whole. We will be again, one day.
AGGIE’S ART OF HAPPINESS – CHAPTER 153
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