Brief Recess

Well, gentle readers, I have had to take a few more days to work on my stupid, recurring, pesky health 'situation.'   Two dear friends sent me the medicinals I need to work out this systemic infection (which I truly did NOT expect to flare up while I was here), but those packages got caught in the Hades that Is the Greek Postal System.    Which is especially infernal in December.

One of them just popped up, but it is the protocol I know nothing about - so we'll see if it makes a difference.  The other one is still stuck in Athens, in Customs.  I have no idea what it will take to loosen up that clinch.  But returning to Athens is not in the budget.

My resolve to stay off of the Net (written about here) until the end of each 'work/writeday' evaporated when the days required non-stop focus to solve this problem.

For those of you who think (as once I did) that if I just relax, things will fall into place;  let me assure you that the ONLY WAY anything works out here is to keep pushing.   This is the Serendipity Desert, I tell ya.

Postscript: Global Express (USPS) is punted over to Fed Ex in Greece, where it is subjected to Customs diversion as well as extra taxes and duties (many times the value of the package).   My host in Athens went to Fed Ex and spent most of two days pushing to have the package released.   We prevailed but she became so exhausted by this effort that she caught a flu.  Irony of ironies, as the remedy (it's a panacea) was now on its way to me.

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Investment Propert(ree

All the oranges in Greece are talking to that blue. 

But  greens are down here, joking with the soil. 

All windows are doors in this country.  Well, almost...

...except for the ones that just want to be sky. 

Gravity.

...and anti-gravity.  Those stones are *over* the doorway. 

Portokalenyi, calling from the garden.  

Reviving FWOL, and . . .

I woke up to the news that I won a month subscription to Flexjobs with my lilting entry to their "splain yrself, Lucy" contest.   The whole mess can be found at For Writing Out Loud.  FWOL, as you may recall, is my scribbler's blog, containing the occasional muse on technique and a chronicle of 'weekly' work.
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Now I have to hie myself downhill for the day.  I have exactly one apple and two eggs left in the kitchen.   But infinitely more distressing:  no cream for the coffee.

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Hang In There...

After a month on the mountain, I am on the verge of figuring out how to manage this hermitage. Yesterday --after a particularly unproductive set of exchanges-- I hopped off social media for a while to catch the silence I have traveled so far, paid so dearly to obtain.

Well - paid, regaled and borrowed.  For my benefactors, I have no limit of gratitude (and demonstrate it with every word I pen).   I also have creditors --some reluctant, some enthusiastic-- for this journey.  To those I say: repayment begins when I sell some work, a process I am initiating this week.

This means I have to re-open humandala, my writing website.  It still feels too early in the Dread, but my career aspirations do not include clochardage on the streets of Athens (Paris maybe, Athens not so much).

When I have a functional income stream (??), those of you who have been so patient will begin to see some movement on the debt front.

Thank you, with love...