Incommunicado

A whole week sans 'phone, ergo sans internet. Living death.

Weather changed and we are now into mists and mellow fruitfulness. Gorgeous.
Deprived of 'puter, I've been mooching around with chainsaw and shredder, short back n sides to all n sundry, hoping to make that fatal gaffe that will have mama finally veto me from all yardwork. Didnt work: huge kudos for herculean tasks achieved on time.

No surfing means more strumming and if only I'd had Ricardo's Dylan chords link *before* I went into cold turkey, I could have licked my rendering of "Been in Missolonghi a da-a-y too long".
Greek proficiency: Not us EEC types, but immigrants have to pass some test in Greek lingo and history etc before they can get Greekie citizenship.

Rather than study up all that stuff, I am toiling on the definitive translation into Homeric verse of "Like a Rolling Stone". Not easy to get the vernacular in spirit but I'll make it.

I have this cool vision of attending for my exam and viva. Instead of walking in laden with papers and theses and crib sheets, I'll saunter in wi' guitar and simply chant 'Stone' in flient cool Helleniki; maybe take along some buddy to do the whizzy bits on the bouzouki.