March 2026
It’s finally stopped raining and the sun is shining again. This is more like it. Denis is now back in France though the path to the compost bin is complete, inlaid even with a couple of Claudia’s golden stones. The lettuce is full size and too precious to eat and the kale plant has recovered from an earlier caterpillar mauling. Going mad with olive mulch, it’s hiding multitudes, hopefully rotting nicely underneath, building up as well as buying soil.
What’s next? Greek Easter is 12th April so everything needs to be spruced up. I have special rates for practical men in need of a spring break! Painting garden walls, cleaning dust out of the corners, pulling weeds and shooing spiders. Christina Bebbington is coming to help make the house beautiful, and the white board list is back, domming us all into domestic surrender.
Last month, being back in Manchester for my sisters birthday celebrations, Heidi’s book launch and The Sex Lectures was so lovely. I’m incredibly grateful for the ready made social life, in contrast to semi isolation here. Though last weekend I broke for the island borders with Leena, and drove my cute little car back to Athens. My neighbours car had rolled into it just before new year and the lease company hadn’t managed to organise to fix it. So I’m trying to find a Corfu car, and for now I have a cute teeny red Fiat 500 convertible for the next few weeks. We took a three day road trip, stopping off a Nafpaxos, Delphi and seeing the Corinth Canal, driving the coast roads with the vast blue sea and skies and moments of presence, leaving the Mandala mind shenanigans at bay for a while. Delphi was so beautiful with wild flowers and spring sunshine. The story of the oracle aka The Pythia was the high priestess of the temple. She responded to questions about the missions of the sailors/kings/seekers in wailings, translated by priests into ambiguities/aphorisms. From that interpretation questioners set out. I stood in the place where the temple once was, & silently asked about my mission, I heard, “Don’t get distracted.”
I’d spent much of February paralysed with indecision about what to do about getting certificates and while I haven’t expressed my No to the greek accountant yet, I’m building up the courage. So if anyone comes to visit this year we’ll have get imaginative with what you’re paying for. As long as you’re buying ‘my mind’ (ooh - I get a charge from hearing “Clever girl”) in cash or quids its gonna be ok. Let make it so. There’s a series of experimental workshops lined up with all the creative practices I’ve benefited from over the years; dancing with Tamara, art therapy with Ayelet and writing with Monique and Marianne and Nathalie. Claudia and I continue to paint on a Wednesday and sometimes folx join us and other times it’s just us. We’re committing to being artists in our own way, taking time out of juggling jobs for art. We’re going to make an outdoor studio in the olive press this summer for morning practice of silence, discovery and beauty. Creativity, coffee and croissants and you’re invited.
