Log in


"Ich bin so satt, ich mag kein Blatt. Mäh! Mäh!" (sung with a wry undertone)

Recent Entries · Archive · Friends · Profile

* * *

Uff. Stuffed. Bloated. Trudging forward with a belly like a Bavarian on his 10th day of the Oktoberfest.

BUT it was a great, warm, inspiring, funny, long (literally from dawn till dusk!), full, tasty, wonderful day:


Early in the morning. I went outside to clean the potatoes and join the men already up from 6.00 am to start rotating the katziki on the spit (no picture for the weak-harted). Left the potatoes for a moment to get something inside and came back to this tableaux: Y. (left) and his uncle already doing the job. No complains from my side...

Next arrived Y.'s niece, using our old school furniture to position herself at the entrance of the garden, charging everyone wishing to pass a fee, sparing only me as 'it is your garden'. I told her I want 20% of her total income for letting her use my garden, which she accepted so easily that after all, I think I should've asked more... ;)

The table under our pergola with all kinds of delicious food (if I may say so myself, ahem). I forgot to take a picture, lucky you.
Y.'s sister is cutting a part of the katziki. We have leftovers for about a week now, as I always create way too many food and the katziki turned out to be a heavyweight.

After a few ouzos the first passionate dancer started.

He stole my heart.

Everyone's actually.

We did the "egg knocking": It's basically whacking one egg against the other, and the one whose egg is still intact can continue whacking his egg onto other people's egg (how does that sound, my goodness?). The egg "left standing", eh, the last one intact is supposed to have luck all year (the person, not the egg).

Ahem. Small sidestep into the garden, who was doing his best:

Our Castor oil tree (if you remember?) is growing rapidly. Luckily the cats ignore the tree completely.

Lots and lots of Calla lilies, all from only one, once planted bulb.

There were pretty blooming flowers....

...and pretty hair ornaments...

...and pretty, pretty smiles.

And more people dancing.

Yes, and you're right: As I was the one behind the camera, there are no pictures of me. Okay, there's one, but it's confiscated for eternity. Instead, you're getting one from the carnival this year (I obviously haven't posted any pics from that event):

Quite exhausted at 3 o'clock in the morning after seven hours of dancing.
Some people have tried to poke me to color my hair like this, but in NO WAY will I ever become a blonde. When I was young and innocent I ( I !) was cast to play the princess in "The Princess and the Pea" at a theatre in Hamburg - sitting on a pink bed in a pink and silver costume with a blonde wig, talking in an affected, high-pitched voice, feeling as uncomfortable as the princess I was supposed to represent-, a miscasting my mother is still laughing about.

But, er, I'm diverting. And basically, that was it. I'm going to digest now...

* * *
* * *
(Deleted comment)
[User Picture]
On April 21st, 2009 12:23 pm (UTC), lutos replied:
Oh, yes, she is. Very clever and very 'dreist'.

How is the selling of other tiles coming along? I've noticed you've become much quieter lately, though I don't know if it's due to work or due to your internet connection. Or -gasp- are you telling me that you have a life there in Provence?

ps Never will I fall so low to surrender to blonde. Ahem. One must keep up appearance, after all. But the older I get, the redder my hair becomes; or does it have to do with my sudden interest for medicinal herbs? ;) Anyway, it suits me just fine, thankyou.
(Deleted comment)
[User Picture]
On April 29th, 2009 05:58 pm (UTC), lutos replied:
Oh, dear, there goes the dream of a lazy life in southern France...working, working, working, ay? And for what? Rich Paffers from Germany who want to invest in a second house on the French countryside, to get the Matisse-feeling or such, or at least a caricature of a bohemian life as they think it is: France. Baguette, wine and cheese. Herbs of Provence. A straw hat and a linnen suit. And with all the green or mauve notes loosely in the pocket feeling King in...ah well, never mind. We all have our illusions.

Aside from your hard working schedule, did you get a bit acquainted yet? Did you "arrive"? Did you join the local crowds (not those charity folks)? I am anxiously awaiting pictures of discoveries! Or of climacterium redheads!

(Deleted comment)
* * *
[User Picture]
On April 20th, 2009 10:00 pm (UTC), theirea commented:
sounds like a great easter! i should've done the "eierpecken" here in nz :P
[User Picture]
On April 21st, 2009 12:18 pm (UTC), lutos replied:
Well, next year then? I thought about hiding eggs for the children, but eventually didn't, though I might do it next year. I still consider it the favorite of the holiday rituals.
* * *
[User Picture]
On April 20th, 2009 10:10 pm (UTC), moonlitrose9 commented:
Thank you for such wonderful photos. It was like stepping into another world for a few minutes.
[User Picture]
On April 21st, 2009 12:16 pm (UTC), lutos replied:
Ah, thanks, I'm glad you liked it. Well, that's the beauty of LJ, isn't it? Taking glimpses into another person's world...
* * *
[User Picture]
On April 20th, 2009 10:11 pm (UTC), karmologyclinic commented:
I reallyenjoyed the photographs! and your garden! my castor oil tree is also growing bigger, even though it's still in a flower pot. it waits for a place in the garden to emtpy so it can root there. and the calla lillies are my favorite!
we didn't have any katziki where I was but I feel equally bloated and cannot even think of eating meat for a few days...
[User Picture]
On April 21st, 2009 12:15 pm (UTC), lutos replied:
Yeah, I never understood why they o the nistia beforehand. After pasxa feels so much more natural, ain't it? ;)

I've grown this Castor tree together with two others in a pot. Then I transferred it into the soil and it went like crazy, while the other two stayed the same and, after two or three months, started withering away. I think they NEED real soil to thrive.

* * *

Previous Entry · Leave a comment · Share · Next Entry