It was a long day yesterday, singing and writing and painting, then a little work on the computers, then home. I wound through the uprooted streets of Paroikia to the marble doorway with the big bright lantern that marks the entrance to my flat, past my front door and the jasmine that breathes into my windows at night, through the back gate into our courtyard. I stopped at the orange tree and picked an orange for my late supper, entered through my French doors and set down my bags. I had the water boiling in minutes, steeping sagey-lemon mountain tea to eat with my orange and the bread from the baker who always gives me “zesto” loaves still warm, and the mizithra from Lambdis drizzled with oil and oregano I picked myself in the hills. It was a moment to contemplate, all these small details forming a complete scene of comfort and care and presence and love, and I thought of people far away and the people nearby who are all so good to me, this vast network of all-encompassing love and I feel awash in blessings.
Just as an aside, here’s my Greek grocery list:
Bread, from Rangoussis (and sometimes milopita and chocolate croissants)
Oranges and mandarins, from my courtyard
Pomegranates, wherever I can cadge them.
Arugula, from the school courtyard
Basil and oregano, from little spots staked out around town
Fruit, from the mini market in between classes.
Yogurt, the Olympos kind if I can find it (sheep’s milk and cow’s milk mixed) or Total if I can’t
Vegetables from Dmitrios and his donkey (Fennel, raddichio, tomatoes, spinach)
That, my friends, is a complete and balanced diet.