Yesterday, after some morning rain, the skies cleared and the sun was back; the temperature outside crept back up to the low 20s, though remains stubbornly lower than that in the house, and in my ‘office’, first thing in the morning in particular. Because of the rain, I’ve had my shutters closed, so when I get to work, usually around 03.30 when it’s dark, I still think it’s nighttime when I emerge for a leg-stretch and tea-refresh a few hours later, only to realise it’s light. Keeping the shutters closed helps keep the cold out, and walking back into the real world takes me from the past (I’m currently in 1904) and back into the present.

Because Neil’s off to visit the grandchildren in a couple of weeks, and because he’ll be in Scotland, some additional and new clothing was called for, and that meant, for reasons of low finance and lower expectations, we popped into Mr Chan’s Emporium of Affordable Delights. This is housed in the building that was once the village social (and, apparently, gambling) club, later a taverna with a good reputation for its chicken with prunes and a back terrace with a view of the telegraph poles all the way to Pedi, and which now sits above the private paediatrician’s surgery. Where we once attended a WI dinner dance and fundraiser, is now full of racks of entertaining clothing in Asian sizes and a cornucopia of plastic items, some of which are of use. At first, I thought there was a sale on because there were four customers in the cavernous shop and the proprietor was bouncing from one to the other like a pinball, enthusing about anything that caught the eye, holding up alternatives and shaking his head when one took a garment from the rail to hold it up for inspection. He has a wonderful eye for one’s honest clothing size, so when you do that thing of saying to yourself, ‘I’ll slim into it,’ he, in a language known to nearly 18% of the world’s population, but to none in the village, tells you by use of ancient Hokkien sign language that you need this size, and he is always right. While I considered a jumper in XXXL size (medium in European sizes), Neil was after a waterproof, and as Mr Chan is also a predictor of weather, there were several loaded racks of them to choose from.

That’s another thing about living in Greece, as it must be in other countries. There’s this tendency for shop assistants to follow you around and offer advice. This is partly to make sure you find what you want and to be on hand if needed, partly to try and sell you something, and hardly at all to make sure you don’t run off with a piece of moulded plastic worth €1,49. Some shop assistants and owners have the persistence of a fly, and others (like me when I worked in a shop in Yialos where I was instructed to stick to browsers like a pop-up advert), stay back and are too polite to interrupt your browsing. We discovered last evening that the proprietor in question not only speaks ancient Wenzhounese but also understands directions given firmly in Anglo Saxon.

The upshot was, a new and rather stylish (for here) waterproof came with us to our next stop, the bar. This one jacket, though, cost more than the top, jeans and joggers Neil bought a few days go. The total then was €32.00 for all three, and yesterday’s bill, €34.00 for one. ‘Never knowingly undersold’ indeed.  The price wasn’t an issue, because he used his tip money from the summer season, and still has a 20c coin left over; unlike the godson who worked at a restaurant and once gained over €70 in tips in one night, barkeeps are awarded less from their customers, but every cent counts these days.

After that, we spent a couple of hours in the bar with two friends, and two televisions showing news, game shows and a variety of alarming advertisements, before heading home along the lane where two out of three streetlights were out, probably due to the recent rain. And here we are, now at 04.18 and the writing day starts again. Back on Monday, but if you’re one of my beloved readers, my author blog will be up on my other blog site tomorrow. Have fun!

If you follow any of the various Symi pages on social media, or follow friends who live here, you won’t have failed to notice that yesterday was something of a damp day, to say the least. It’s still raining this morning, but it’s due to clear up later, and we may not have any more for a day or so, when it’s set to come back. We’ll see.

The Oxi Day parade still went ahead, though in limited form, with the solders and officials attending the service and the commemoration at the War Memorial, and let’s face it, if Greece can stand up to Mussolini in 1940, it can stand up to a deluge. There are a couple of You Tube videos from Symi TV showing the river of muddy red water coming off the hills behind Yialos and flowing into the sea under the bridge, and here’s one of them:

You can find more from Symi TV on their YouTube channel.

There are other videos going around showing other usually dry riverbeds in full flow, with the topsoil washing into Nimborio, for example, and through the mountains. As far as I can make out, no-one was hurt by the weather, though a couple of mopeds didn’t do so well. Our bathroom roof and porch are holding up, but the lean-to has water running down the walls, and we’ve got some ingress via the pointless aircon unit in the attic directly above the bed, so after going to bed, we got up again to put down towels up there, and I’ll take a look at the problem once the rain stops.

Apart from a quick dash to the shop between showers, it was a day for staying in, writing and making tomato soup, as you do when you don’t want to spend the entire day on the sofa. The day before, I found a simple recipe for peanut butter biscuits, which I did in the air fryer, and yeah, they’re fine, but you may as well eat a teaspoon of peanut butter with a side order of a teaspoon of sugar and let your internals do that baking. What with the price of groceries being what it is around here, it’s cheaper to buy a packet than it is to make them yourself. But it’s something to do.

Another thing I’d like to do is visit the immersive Titanic exhibition currently showing at the Goudi Digital Theatre in Athens, but sadly, that’s not in my rather bleak winter budget forecast. As I’m on things I’d like to do, I’d also like to see a ban on adverts such as this one: ‘Writing a book used to take years. Now it takes one afternoon — and $19. Your story, Amazon-ready by tonight.’ Sickening, but the debate about such things I will leave for my other blog.

In better news, I had a message from our landlord last night to say the new house contract is ready, and the terms are the same as now for another year, and as it’s all now on Taxisnet, all we had to do was open the program and accept. Except I’ve never been able to get into my Taxisnet, though big sis Jenine can, so she was able to do it for us, giving us another year here unless the house is sold or he wants it back. Breathing space, at least, but it also shows how much better and more transparent Greece is becoming on such matters. A problem only for those trying to avoid tax or be in some other way dishonest.

Right on cue, the thunder has started rolling in again, so I’d better post this now in case I have to unplug the internet.

The storm, such as it was, looks like it’s fading away, but may be coming back, and that reminds me of the business about cats, because that never goes away. Yes, that old chestnut.

I saw a post earlier which I thought summed up the problem in a succinct and sensible way, from an islander’s point of view. It very discreetly pointed out that the problem of stray cats isn’t helped by holiday makers who come for a short time and then leave, telling us who live here what they think should be done while proposing no solution. Many people do tell us what should be done, and most of those things have either been done, are being done, or can’t be done, but those who do do them quietly put up with the accusations of not doing enough, when they have few resources to do anything. All we can do is roll eyes and say in the manner of a film character: ‘You think we ain’t already thought of that, mister?’

As you might detect from the overuse of the verb To Do in that last bit, this subject always causes a bit to-do with those who temporarily do, those who would like to do, but don’t, and those who think the whole thing is doodoo. One thing’s for sure; the subject is never going to die off like the dodo.
Here’s a chicken leaving home for a day’s work:

As you can see, the generosity of locals or holiday-home owners who live here part time and of many shorter-stay visitors is as generous as it can be. Someone near us has even supplied a shelter. Others put down food every day and pay for it from their own limited pockets. That’s great if that’s what they want to do, but not everyone is as inclined to help animals, just as not everyone can afford the money or time; just as some people who might be able to would rather put their time, money and support toward, for example, the schools with no heating, no decent books, and very few resources. Others may prefer to support their families, and instead of buying food for stray cats, buy ever-more-costly food for their family, or medicines for their ever-failing grandparent or child. And many permanent residents have to accept that they can’t help, but still have to pass by the sight of homeless kittens and the smell of those who didn’t make it. (Not, note, on their way from €120 + a night Airbnb perfection to their flight back to comfort.)

Yeah, I know, a contentious matter and it always will be, but what gets up my nose like a bad case of gone-off snuff is when people decry permanent residents who don’t/can’t offer to help a random stray animal a holidaymaker has fallen in love with. Sadly, in today’s world, time is just as much a currency as currency itself, and no, I can’t give up a day to take a failing kitten to Rhodes so it can be seen by a vet, even of you do offer to pay for it. What about the other 101 animals who won’t make it through the winter? I suppose the bottom line there is, if you feel that strongly, sell up, rent or buy a permanent home here (and good luck with that!), set up your own charity (ditto), put your own pressure on the authorities (ditto), and put the rest of yourself where your mouth is.

Meanwhile, if you’re interested, some of the island’s windmills are for sale for a few million euros and would make a wonderful cat sanctuary. Any takers?

Here today, gone tomorrow. Except, in this case, gone in a few minutes and back again a short while later. Yesterday’s stunning view from the front window:

And when the curtain of rain parted? Lo! There was the stalwart Symi II bringing day trippers to visit the island on what must surely be one of the last trips of the, ahem, summer season.

Today, we are promised the back of a holiday postcard sent from, without prejudice, the north of England. One that reads: ‘We get some kind of weather here every day.’ We’re in for cloud, light rain, heavy rain, maybe a glimpse of sunlight, but no nasty winds, and there was a mention of hail. Well, why not? I hope it holds off or goes away before the parade tomorrow, because tomorrow is Oxi Day, and there should be a parade along the quayside in Yialos.

Meanwhile, there’s more rain to come, though unless I have slept through something horrendous, it’s not been as bad as it could have been. In fact, thanks to Neil’s roof painting skills, we had no leaks into the bathroom and only a minimal drizzle in the porch. (Still have no idea how that gets in. I must also thank Steve, who lent us a few shovels of ‘mud’ to fill the cracks before painting, and my own gutter-clearing abilities, which freed up the overflows. That is, except for the one on the bathroom roof, which only disperses some of the water, because the pipe was built about half an inch above the level of the flat roof. Not sure what we can do about that, except sweep the rain into the pipe when we get the chance.

Meanwhile, life ticks along inside the house. I have a delivery to collect from the courier, which will have to wait for a break in the weather. I managed to advance my next story with a good five-hour session at the typowriter, and I found out the book I ordered on Edwardian Britain is nearly here (it’s for research, not reminiscence purposes, before you say anything). I’ve sorted my winter clothes from my summer wardrobe, so now, instead of two pairs of shorts and three shirts for one season, my shelf holds two pairs of trousers and two jumpers for the next; they’re an annual reminder that I must invest in some clothes shopping. One day. Having said that, we’ve still not had to use the heaters, and when it wasn’t raining, we had the front window open.

So far this ‘winter’, I’ve already made one successful cake in the air fryer. I don’t think we’ve used the oven since May (to keep the electricity bill as low as possible), and I’m not sure what will happen if/when we use it again, but the hob sees more or less daily action, and yesterday, to counter the cake, Neil set about one of his Japanese-style healthy-broth deliciousnesses. I’ll break that down because I’m not convinced it’s a word: delicious-ness-es.

And that’s where I am starting this Tuesday morning: back at the typo machine with not a peep from the weather sounding in the darkness outside, no heater needed, and only one damp floor towel to see to later. Onwards we merrily go….

Morning! Here’s your unofficial local news on this, the name day of St Dimitrios. Neil’s now finished afternoon work at the Rainbow Bar, so you can expect to find it open only in the mornings and evenings according to its usual unpredictable winter timetable. Lefteris kafeneion has a sign saying it’s open from 18.00 to 22.00, and not the afternoons, and I’m not sure about the mornings. As far as I know, the tavernas are also closed for the season, though Georgio’s is probably open throughout winter, though inside only. Other village cafes will also be open according to their own timetables.

Shipping news (unofficial). The Sebeco won’t be running today, and it looks like the Express (or Pride) won’t be running for the next two days. It suffered an engine problem yesterday, so that may have something to do with it. It’s a little confusing, as the image posted with the headline was of the Panagia Skiadeni, so as with most reports from anywhere these days, you had to look further than the headline and image to get to what might not even be the truth in any case. Either way, it sounds like the next few days are going to be days to stay battened down at home. Here’s what the Poseidon Systems shows for later this afternoon over Symi:

And here’s what it shows for around 20.00 this evening:

Eek! You can’t even see the island.
Mind you, we were expecting rain overnight too (according to another forecast), but so far, at 04.20, the ground is dry, and when I look outside, I can see a few stars between the clouds.

In much more local news, there’s been some antisocial media commenting on the overflowing bin store along our lane, though it’s not only us who have gone without a collection over the weekend; the store at the top of the Kataraktis and near Alamina Square are also in the same boat. Has there been a strike by the collection men? I don’t know. Has the vehicle broken down? I don’t know. Is our main man ill? Again, I don’t know. Have those who always look for an excuse to attack the local authorities, either rightly or wrongly, used it as an excuse to attack the local authorities online? Yes, of course. Had we had the old loudspeaker island announcement system, we might know, but what I do know is, it will be back to normal as soon as it can be, so keep your hair on — the feral cats and even more feral chickens are having a wail of a time. If you’re inclined, you could clear up the scatter after them, or you could even tidy the whole area on your own. Someone tidied ours yesterday and cleared the chicken scratch from the road (thank you), and although it still needs taking away, at least it’s a respectable-looking pile.

Further afield, i.e. five minutes’ walk away at the village sports centre, there will be another visit from the National Primary Healthcare Program. This is going to be from December 4th to 7th, and there will be all manner of specialists in attendance. Thirteen specialities are listed, and all or any island residents can make an appointment.

There are far too many for me to list here, but if you don’t read Greek, copy and paste this image into one of those new AI search bots and you’ll get a reasonable translation. Anyone interested will, though, have to use the app found at www.mykim.gr to book an appointment. If you don’t have a smartphone, you will be able to book via the KEP office at the Town Hall nearer the time. All services offered by these consultants and medical practitioners will be free. Now how’s that for an excellent health service?

Gosh. I didn’t realise I’d picked up so much info over one weekend stuck at a desk behind closed shutters, but there you have it. I hope it’s all reasonably correct.