"How chances it they travel?"

 

Flying from Washington to Athens

Waiting for the ferry from the port of Piraeus to take us to Naxos

The ferry, which was an enormous catamaran-style diesel boat that made quick time (5ish hours) of the journey with several stops along the way

Possibly the island of Syros?

How I got my only look at the Parthenon

Taking in the Mediterranean. Without a hat on, because it was incredibly windy.

Nearing sunset

Mykonos

Travel-weary, almost there

First glimpses of Old Town, Naxos

Poolside at the hotel after the first day at the beach

Out for dinner in Agios Prokopios

Beating the crowds (there was regularly a line around the block for this place) by eating at 5:30

Appetizer sampler, the best thing on the table was the stewed beans

Some complimentary tsipouri

Agios Prokopios sunset

Agia Anna, I think

Some of the colors near our hotel

Doesn't do justice to the blue of the water at the beach

A long and dusty walk up to Old Town, Naxos. (We usually took a bus)

Heading part the harbor up to the Portara

The iconic image of Naxos--the arch of the Temple of Apollo

The full Mediterranean stretching out 

It was very windy

The only proper waves we saw were on this northern part of the island

J had to hold her hat to keep it from blowing off

The closest we came to eating indoors. (It was a place overlooking the harbor, kind of like an open tent)

Eating fish with the head still on/octopus/langoustines

Some of the elaborate breakfast we had every morning by the pool

Cooking class day

For some reason these pictures are out of order. This was at the very end, when we learned a bunch of traditional Greek dances

Debris on the driveway is from smashing plates

Some of the final product from the cooking class

The presentation at the communal table once everything was done

Part of the view as we climbed out of Mesi Potamia

A bit of Venetian tower (The Kokko Tower?) that has become a historical site

All the stone was Naxian marble

Part of the farm

Making the tzatziki 

Stuffing peppers and tomatoes

Wine, lemonade, and snacks while we worked

Preparing the rooster legs

We used so much olive oil

Olives (not ready yet) on the vine

Estimated age for most of the thicker-trunked olives: 2,000-3,000 years old

On our way to gather vegetables

Selecting our produce from the farm

New shoots from an ancient tree

Bunches of grapes--all the wine we drank was made in house

Prep stations

    

Lunch on the beach

Mid-afternoon snacks

Trying again to capture the color of the water...

Up towards the far northern end of the area where we swam

A cooler, slightly less windy day overall

Sea-view dinner

Fishermen's Pasta

And a Naxian salad

Spot the kittens?

Watching the sun set from the rooftop tables

Another day down

The next day's breakfast

Watching the waves roll in while waiting for the bus

Some of the shops in Filoti

A hidden gem up in the mountains

Part of the descent from Mt. Zas

Felt like we were almost done, because we'd reached a proper path. We actually had another hour of walking.

The Cave of Zeus

We covered a lot of elevation in one morning

Another angle on the summit

Looking at the entire island with Froggy from the very top

The summit

In the direction of Turkey

The trail was fairly well blazed, but there were enormous cairns to guide you when the marks weren't clear

Panoramic view of the valley on the ascent side

Very scrubby climbing. (There were some nicked ankles and shins)

Water break on the ascent

These little family-sized white chapels were everywhere on the island

Where the bus let us off

A Nutella wrap that we've tried to recreate for the boys. (They would have loved them)

Didn't get souvlaki until 6-7 days in. It was worth the wait.

More of Old Town Naxos

Exploring a kitchen shop

"Leisure is the mother of philosophy"

Our umbrella slowly dying on the final day

Final dinner out

Same restaurant where we saw the kittens

Some of the sunbeds. 40-50 euro a day, which was why we made due with the umbrella.

Sea bream, fried zucchini

Grilled octopus

The last Agios Prokopios sunset

And a final beach walk

"You have been talked of since your travel much"

 

"your intent In going back to school"

Monday this week was the first Monday I've had in months and months without the prospect of any school hanging over my head.

It's Wednesday, and I'm already working on next year's school.

Part of this is our own fault. We start early and go late so that we can usually have a four-day school week, and everyone is on board with this. But it makes for a pretty short summer break, and when the back part of that break is going to be spend abroad you need to make sure that your school books are ordered and your school plans are submitted to the district well in advance.

So I got a total of about two whole days off from school before I was filling the Amazon cart with books, looking up information on requirements for homeschooling a high-schooler (!) and trying to find workbooks for textbooks that have apparently gone out of print since we started doing this.

The good news is that there has probably never been an easier time to be a homeschooling parent. I can't imagine doing the process of book-buying and curriculum research before the age of the internet. Not only are there more resources now, but they are considerably easier to put your hands on.

I do feel, however, a bit like Milo of Croton. I started the homeschooling process with James 10 years ago by carrying one small bull-calf up the hill. We did some handwriting, we did some reading, we called it a day it was great. 

Over the years my shoulders have grown accustomed to the weight of the growing bull (and the bull's brothers), and I've been able to accept the incremental increase in work and responsibility until I apparently am carrying three full-grown bulls uphill every day, one of which refuses to wear his glasses and will hide his schoolbooks under the sofa when he thinks I'm not looking.

(I'm not sure that this metaphor has much more life in it.)

But the point is, it's time to start another year of school. There will be yet a little bit more work to do, a bit more responsibility for all parties involved. 

And the household can hold together and stand it for one more year, right?

Right?

"Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy; For the apparel oft proclaims the man"

I was getting ready to change and drive to my evening concert and happened to look at the forecast. It was supposed to get chilly--down below 60 once the sun set, and this concert wasn't going to start until after 8:30. 

I could wear my white jacket!

White jackets as a staple of summer orchestra programs have been slowly disappearing since my career began. They can look wonderfully dressy when clean and fitted correctly, but most programs, even evening programs, are not performed in weather that is appropriate for wearing long sleeves. I had a cheap (polyester of some sort) white jacket for the early years of my career that I was constantly sweating through and didn't particularly enjoy wearing. It was several sizes too large and probably looked okay from a distance but was embarrassingly cheap and ill-fitting up close. (Not to mention slightly stinky.)

Several years ago, despite the fact that most of the groups that I work with were slowly phasing out the white jackets, I bought a real one. Not only a jacket that fit me correctly, but high-end slim fit proper dinner jacket in ivory (real dinner jackets are never pure white) made from expensive Italian wool with a satin shawl collar. It was a piece of real high fashion from a store that I usually wouldn't be able to afford, but happened to discover being sold used despite being practically new. 

It was magic when I put that jacket on. It fit me perfectly, and I looked like James Bond about to roll into a casino.

But I usually don't get to wear it, because we're always playing summer concerts in the sweltering heat, and the group that I play most with over the summer has almost entirely phased tux jackets out. 

Tonight, however, I was playing locally and the weather was cool...I could wear the nicest piece in my wardrobe. I pulled on dress pants, my black leather dress boots, and a clean white dress shirt. I was looking forward to coming down the stairs in much more dazzlingly formal attire than usual. 

I tried to imagine my reaction to J's reaction.

"Yes, I do look like James Bond. But James Bond can't even begin to play the trumpet, of course..."

"I WOULD like to go out with you soon...want to wear that your lowest cut dress if I wear this dinner jacket?"

"No, I don't have time for THAT right now, but if you stay up I won't be back too late after my concert..."

I finished tying my shoes and came down the stairs to show off.

What she actually said was:

"Oh, your white jacket...were you eating in ketchup in it?"

"What do you mean?"

"That stain...what is it? Is it coffee, maybe?"

"What stain? Where?"

"Bottom right corner. Oh, Roy...it's all over the arm too. What did you do in that thing?"

"I didn't do anything! I haven't worn it since I got it back from the dry cleaners after last summer!"

"You did something. Oh, honey, it's all down the side too. You can't go onstage in that, you know."

"What IS this?"

"Maybe the cleaners can get some of it out..."

I really didn't eat something with ketchup or drink coffee in my nicest white dinner jacket. I have no idea how it got massive brown stains all over it. Maybe something leaked in the closet, or I stored something extra dirty next to it? But anyway, I didn't exactly preen onto the stage in my very fine looking James Bond tux jacket. I did, however, put it on after the sun went down. Because I was the only one who thought to bring a jacket, and was therefore the only one who didn't get cold.

So there.

"I will last you some eight year"

 

"Look where my abridgment comes"

 Declamas belle, causas agis, Attice, belle

historias bellas, carmina bella facis,

componis belle mimos, epigrammata belle,

bellus grammaticus, bellus es astrologus,

et belle cantas et saltas, Attice, belle,

bellus es arte Lyra, bellus es arte pilae.

Nil bene cum facias, facias tamen omnia belle,

vis dicam quid sis? Magnus es ardelio.

Martial, Epigrams Book 2 no. 7

"You speak beautifully, you argue beautifully, Roy,

you tell lovely stories, you write beautiful music,

you entertain handsomely, you tell funny anecdotes,

you know your grammar, you know your astronomy,

you sing and move beautifully, Roy,

you play your instrument beautifully, you run beautifully.

Although you done of it well, you do it beautifully,

would you like me to say what you are? You're a consummate dabbler."

"a Monday morning, 'twas then indeed"

I’ll be thrilled when my boys are back home. I’ll be eager to see them, to hear about their time at camp, and to play foursquare at the playground across the road with them.

But what a great morning this has been.

I didn’t have to cajole anyone into starting school.

The only person I made breakfast for was myself.

I’ve been reading on the pergola for hours without being interrupted once.

I did a warm-up in the living room and no one complained that it was too loud.

I haven’t even heard Axel F even once.

No one has begged me to take them swimming.

No one has blamed me for the weather being a disappointment.

The only dirty laundry I’ve picked up has been my own.

I folded a couple of blankets, and they’ve stayed folded for hours.

I poured a glass of of sparkling water and no one came running to ask if they could have some too.

I’m going to go for a run in a few minutes, and I won’t even have to confirm that there is an extra adult in the house.

But the most incredible thing of all…

…every single light in the house, at 1:00 on a sunny afternoon in July, is turned off.