Most gardening blogs don’t relate to me. I don’t have deer, I have snails. I don’t have 10 feet of snow in November, it’s sunny and the windows are open. I can’t start spinach in April, it’s too dang hot.
Let me start by saying everyone is okay. Thank God. Every parent will know that dread when their kids get their driver’s license that someday they may get that phone call filled with the shaken voice. The one that says, “Mom, I’m so sorry, but I’ve had an accident.”
Over the river and through the woods to grandfather’s house, we go. Actually it was grandfather’s cabin in the nearby foothills on a parcel of land the Old Man’s parents purchased several decades ago. The family built the rough cabin by hand and visited on occasion when the Old Man and his siblings were growing up.
I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to go. In fact, I didn’t even make up my mind until that morning and I was still convincing myself as I was telling the Old Man we needed to get ready.
If a bunch of cows is a herd, if geese gather in gaggles, and seagulls fly in a flock, what do you call a bunch of Greeks? A good time, of course! With lots and lots of food. Lots of food. Did I mention that there’s food? (See my Recipes section to find out how to make all that wonderful food!)
It all started with a single pine tree on the side of the road. At first there were only a handful of them up in that one tree. But each year their numbers grew until that one tree just wasn’t big enough. So they spread. Then spread some more. Now there are dozens of them up in a cluster of at least 8-10 pine trees on the side of the road.
We live not too far away from a stretch of river. As a result, we tend to get a variety of visitors to our neighborhood that make the trek from the river bottom, and on up into the suburbs. Some even decide they like it well enough and make our yards their homes. Some are welcome, some not so much.
Let’s face it, plant growers lie. To be fair, it’s more like incomplete truths than all out lies, but no nursery is going to label a plant with “Under ideal circumstances this plant is great, but most of the time it really just sucks”. So you’re left with the task of discovering your plant’s dirty little secrets the hard way: after you’ve already had it in the ground for a good long time and it’s already caused a lot of problems.
As far as I can tell, Greeks in Greece don’t actually own pets. I will admit that this presumption is based on limited observations, but I’ve really never seen anyone there with the stereotypical pet. One of my cousins once had some small birds (parakeets, I think), but I just don’t recall ever seeing anyone with pets like dogs or cats. Now don’t get me wrong, cats and dogs are definitely there. They just don’t seem to “belong” to anyone.