So it's ' Άγιος Λουκάς', my house's Day
Ergo 'Gouvia Heights' day.
"Yay-y!", as Anna emailed back when I gravely informed her of this most solemn and celebratory occasion. I'm glad we've raised our children in the correct holy responses.
Here's a clip to get us in the mood. Around the 0' 38" mark a stern a patriarchal type cuts in; I wasnt paying attention and it gave me such a fright. Thought the local padre had come calling.
That's my darling Georgina (r) with bounding bounder Sam.
Lovely gal, the sort a father confides in his wife - looking over at some nightmare tearaway - "Thank gawd we didnt spawn someone like ... her."
Actually - and don't blab on me - once upon a time the Her would have been, erm, Anna. Now, of course, my 'Spitfire' is the divinest best-behaved sophistiquée in Christendom.
Maman named the house after a church over yonder where, wonders of wonders, dwelleth also fair Eileen Friel Lincoln (whom God preserve), so it's also her day.
DRINK - No escaping it, is there? As I took Tasia home I told her it was the house's day on account of the church, which she kneweth not of. As we passed it, I pointed into the tangled shrubbery and she immediately knew it and made drinking gestures and told me I should celebrate. Doh! Just when I was behaving. So course I had to stop off for olives of the kalamata-stiest and vino of the winiest.
Evil Axe: dear Tasia pointed something out I hadn't noticed, that Miss Ibaneza is the same good-omen μπλε as our Evil Eye.
Another song! the Dublin City Ramblers.
(Don't blab on me but I've always sensed a wild colleen about Eileen. I have a feeling I should have invited her up to help toast our shared Lukiness. Hush, not a word: along with general hotness comes that famous 'Temper'. I will catch it if she ever rumbles I had corks out within hollering distance.)