Carrot to the rescue

Probable last post from the priests' hole, since the beckoning finger of the rat's nest becomes ever more tempting, ever more persuasive. I must follow its hypnotic curvature all the way home.

It is the rare being that hears the siren's call of the rat's nest. Most can't hear it. Me, cucas, vromyars and a few other poor schmucks. Anyway, home is home is home.

I didn't want you to think I'd bit(ten) the dust, so I wanted to post, and thought that if I didn't have anything to say, I could at least look for some old pics on my computer to entertain, and lo and behold, I found these pictures of Carrot that I had taken from my cell. These are from when he first arrived, none the worse for wear, from distant Chicago, his hometown. (But on facebook your hometown is where you're living, not where you're from. I think. asxeto.) He was a little feisty at first, as you'll see, but he soon settled down. He is looking forward to moving to the rat's nest in the next couple of days. (poor little tyke--he doesn't know any better)




If you love Carrot, you'll love his friends. Thank you, Mei, again, for brightening things up!!! (And putting all my creative projects to shame with Carrot's (well, your) artistry!)














Remember, pictures from the cell (double meaning intended!). He's much more handsome than I've depicted him!

Hey, Pumpkin

Today I broke one of my firm and fast rules: I wore an article of clothing before washing it. Ever since Venia's mom (former underwear factory worker) told me what happens to clothes from fabric to packaging/store, I never ever wear something before washing it. I always think of people who don't have any clean underwear, like in college, and are too lazy or busy to go to the laundromat, so they buy a new three-pack or six-pack of Hanes to get through another few days. Take my word for it: This is gross. Do not do it. If you need more details (you don't), tell me in the comments.

BUT, I got an awesome package from the bro today, and had to wear my new hoodie around the 'hood!!! Couldn't wait to wash it. It's washable, right? Notice it has been signed by the entire Pumpkin Crew, and is full of positive pumpkin energy. Energy is definitely in long supply (not in short supply, get it?) at the Pumpkin House. Dude, the Pumpkin House deserves its own post some day. That place is unique. C'est tout ce qu'on peut dire.

Also in the package, amazing hand/body lotion (Kathy's Family Healing Lotion). Special stuff. Check it out here. And a sweet pumpkin show poster AND Worcester's own Mustard Plaster and accompanying cap. Early Christmas!!! Thanks, Pierre!

PS I am not as sickly and double-chinny as in the above pics! I want to believe this.

Grrrrrrr

This terrifying monster pinata was given to Dr. Nikos, one of my docs from when I was hospitalized, a fine scientist and seemingly all-around nice guy, for his sons, aged 3 and 4 (!) to demolish. He was very moved and told me he loved it even before I explained what a pinata was. When I told him it involves beating something with a stick till the candy falls out, he said, "The perfect present for my boys!" I was waiting in the hallway later to get a blood test and he came out (after having read my card with my thanks and the explanation of the 100-item project) and found me and told me it was the best present he'd ever received! So that really made my day. Elevator doc (someday I'll tell the story)(not a big deal) told me a couple of them had read it too and they also thought it was a cool idea. Elevator doc is kind of a flirt but I think it's more about his ego than about you.

So here it is, my first and probably last foray into the world of pinata-making:


And the contents:

This pinata is kicking my ass

But first, from the priest's hole:
Vasilis Kazoulis is an acquired taste which I have acquired.
Hear here.
He just came on the radio and I have to say I love the guy. There was a different video clip I wanted to link to but it was from a public-access cable station with mysterious (pink?) numbers flashing on the screen. I wouldn't want you to call one of them out of curiosity and get an (un)pleasant surprise.

Okay, this pinata is taking more time (especially drying time) and energy than I had anticipated. Plus it's humid because of all the rain. (The 11th mystery of the modern world: how this place can have the radiators burning day and night and yet still be humid...) Making a pinata has several steps, all of them sloppy. But here's where I stand:
After this strange gourd-shaped thing dries, it will get spray-painted blue and decorated with bits of blue/green/orange crepe paper and then it will magically become a scary (worthy of being bludgeoned with a broom handle) MONSTER. It is handmade project number 45. Only 55 more to go. Actually 56, since one of the necklaces is kind of ugly, and I feel bad giving it to anybody, so it'll have to get redone. Anyway, I will definitely post pics of the finished pinata. I am very anxious about it.

Also, please release into the universe your positive vibes for my cellmate from the ospedale, who got out 3 days before me but has had to be hospitalized twice more since then. I had an email from her daughter and apparently her spirits have been low, too. Perhaps I should send her a pinata! I'm sure the results of this one will be good for a lot of laughs.

A walk in the park

Coming from the priests' (I never know where to put the apostrophe) hole:

Sometimes I forget what I've told to whom or where I've written it. So you may or may not know that I'm no longer under house arrest but last Monday the whites were down round 2000, and half the population has some flu or other, so the rules are, stick close to home, no public transport or other closed spaces (shops, etc), stay away from sick people. So I usually take a walk a day, sometimes with a friend and often with my mom.

A mainstay of my walks is the National Garden, since it's within walking distance of the priests' hole and also pretty and also contains a zoo of sorts. The zoo is basically just farm animals behind bars, but they seem pretty happy and since most of them (except the donkeys) are dietary staples here, they're probably better off. The other day one kid was staring at a rooster and was telling his friends how he imagined it cooked (kokkinisto: onions and garlic browned in olive oil, tomato sauce in the big pot). Another point is that the freezer at the priest's hole is full of dry bread (really bread that's been in there so long it's freezer burned and no one wants to eat it) and geese like dry bread.

It's been rainy here and the park paths can get a bit muddy. However, I decided to wear my new sneakers on my walk. Here's what they looked like when I set out. There's no "after" picture because it wasn't that muddy and the after picture would have been anti-climactic.


I struggle with photo placement on blogger. The pictures never go where I want them. Why can't they just go where you insert them instead of all sticking to the top of the post?!?!? In any case, here's a truncated photographic tour. Pics taken a bit too late in the day to be much good. While we were walking we heard the dusk whistle to get out before we got locked in for the night. Too many pervs around to leave it open all night. Also, it's so well-kempt (K doesn't think this is a word but I do) that it would be a shame if some late-night vandals were to damage anything.




Anyway, here's the Botanic(al)(?) Museum from afar. I could go in there some day because I'd probably be the only one except for the guard.



This is a strange structure. I want to believe this is a row of dog houses for the stray dogs that wander into the park, for winter when they get cold. However, I have never seen any dogs anywhere near this row of nooks. On the other hand, it looks newish, so probably not a hand-me-down from when the park was the garden of the palace (current parliament). Maybe at night or when it's really cold dogs use them?


Don't feel sorry for this goose for my flash going off in her face (Goose is a feminine noun even if it's genetically a male goose, but I can't tell the difference on a goose anyway. Just in the pot. (Joking!)). I made up for it by giving her plenty of bread. She thanked me by making satisfyingly loud goose noises.



This sign predates the "Everything must be translated into English" rule. HORNED GOAT, symbol of the (objectively) best star sign. Again, the thing with the pictures (meant to be side-by-side). argh.
























Two other fine friends.

And no walk in the capital is complete without a cat,
Dappy, and some ruins. (Can't be real or there's no way you could get this close. Maybe royal remnants? If only these were the only ones.)