BLOGERIOUS

Whoo hoo! My kind of post. loony but concise.

• Sleepless white night, half nightmaring about DEH cutting off my elecvtricity.

• Phoned London pal to discuss lodgings if/when I go over but ended up sidetracked discussing explanation of 'surprised and shocked' and leaving it to the legal beagles here and in UK who drafted the oath.

• Tried to get back into rented DVD of Source Code but could not get my head round it and conscience pricking about delaying on sorting contents of house for dumping/donating/selling/pricing on net/offering to pals ... all a bit overwhelming.
• Took pity on Sam and walked him in the drizzle which he loved, sniffing and cocking. 
• Gunshots which reminded me of Grapevine alert about a hunter shooting 'horizontally' which reminded me to keep the gates closed against this outbreak of robberies.
• Back inside and video still playing, no less comprehensible but pretty-boy Jake Gyllenhaal looking even more like Zach Works' less grizzled younger brother.
• Vera Farmiga mis-cast but hot as ever. Made note to take out that Clooney/Vera flick where they meet as seasoned travelers and he looks her up and finds she has a family etc.
• Freezin' fingers but give the guitar a strum which grounds me a bit. Wonderful acoustics in the hall and I strum rather than pick 'View of the Cross', mis-remember the chord change to the 'Gethsemane' and go to a F# minor which absolutely fits, as most of my 'wrong' chords do.
• Switch from DVD to news that tells me Mindy McReady is dead of self-inflicted. Who she? I Youtube Guys do it all the time but none the wiser or impressed.  
• Write shopping list and remember brown sugar cubes and bayonet light bulbs.
• Light fire for Sam and Koutsi and check email which prompts me to pour a Bloody Mary which leads to cigs whose butts I empty into plastic bag. Set fire to bag with careless ember. Dunk smoking bag in rain-filled barrel which makes Sam think there's another walk so I take him round down by the pool and slippery rock-hemmed path at the north-east garden patch. One day I'll slip and bash head and not be found for 3 days.
• Return to warmth and pep up BM.
• Email from on-off-off-off lunch date asking if she dropped an ear-ring. I know exactly where and there indeed it is, call her up and go thru ridiculous maneuvrings to return it without actually having to meet. Reminds me of those health freaks who can't touch anything and if they do have to wash themselves in scalding water to cleanse it off. 
• By now woozy with wodka and lie down with Sam to warm each other.
• Totally failed to plonk fotos accurately within post.   

TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS

Comes a time of day when a man's had enough of taking care of online pensionry business, and all that shock and awe business of  name changery ... and just wants to take care of BUSINESS ~ lawd have merceh, know what i mean?

Little Jimmy Potts - he's your main man,

come to save your soul,
got plants and herbs and medicines
And he got rock n roll.

That cat's the blues doctor,
Come to save our lives,
Capo on the 3rd, Augmented 7th for the wives.

THINKING OF ALL CHILDREN

My Mouzakitis post has replaced my Jimmy Bulger obsession and I check daily for suitable additional entries.

• Treat All Missing Children the Same!
• Thinking of all children is a corker of a page - and Team McCann really has its shit together in terms of plugging every gap for possible publicity and feeding the newshounds what it takes to give this legs.
• There was even a local Grapevine skirmish when the Mouzakitis story was momentarily high-jacked for a Maddie McCann plug.
• Scroll down for the Mouzakitis poster and note also that Christopher Dorner features - prolly not for long now that he daid and the authorities fried the place.

REQUIEM FOR A SHELL

My mother had exquisite taste and an eye for beauty, so the house was full of the right things in the right place.

I'm thinking of the shells she dotted round the place, as conversation pieces, to beguile the eye - and generally fill boring spaces. 

These most beautiful conversation pieces are now, alas, dumpster bound and will find their final resting place in the next dry day  in the local rubbish tips and gutters outside the de Bono hotel. 

Sic transit and all that, and down with thievery.

They usefully filled a gap during one of our discussions and dissections of the team-theft of the girls' personal jewelry when I wanted to share a rare perspective of the contempt that wells up when very first confronting filcheurs one has caught red-handed stealing a precious possession - in this case, all my precious jewelry bequeathed to the girls.

I confessed that, as I climbed the Villa Thefti stairs to where they both sat in my brother's work study,  I wasn't  actually sure how I would feel or react.

That wonderful quote from a pal when I first informed her that my jewel box had been snaffled in toto and taken to Italy:

"Oh good God, can you imagine how far down the moral sewer you would have to swill to find a double act like that.

What a piece of work!"   

Those succinct words resonate with everyone.


Interesting, but to understand my reaction, you would have to have been there, seen the cake-mouth contortions of guilt and self-disgust.

I tell you, as I gazed on them ... all moral stature and standing drained from their every guilty twitch and pore. 

Almost a vacuum in ones very bowels. In that instant, all interest or curiosity in anything they have to sell simply gurgles down the toilet. 

Naturally, this explanation provoked a torrent of gyaku gire and hurling of the nearest foodstuffs/utensils at  hand - then I hit on the wheeze of using my mother's shells to ram home the point.

I asked her to imagine a visit by her simpering lawn-and-lorgnette brigade, and to picture one of them hefting her handbag to take her leave and one of the house's precious shapely shells tumbling forth from a side pocket and crashing to the marble before all eyes. 

That seemed to bring home the level of disgust and disgrace attached to the jewels heist. 

Having found the right example and parallel, my memory segued to that dinner when maman was excitedly declaring that she didn't think she knew an UN-nice gardener, and me churlishly chirping in  that I didn't see what was so nice about thieving. 

People must have got the hang of the story by then because I recall one or two discreet snorts of mirth - by the Pilfering of Perseus! Is there another hobby as over-size for its boots and over-weening in its arrogant assumptions.

I thought the image a rather good one, of one of their precious gardening pals behaving like 'family' - and, as I pointed out to my mother, benefited from visual cues partout. 

Others disagreed, pointing out the danger of lying in the bath gazing on pointed reminders of the double-theft. 

VANISHING VENABLES

Venables Vigilantes - As I keep saying, I'm un peu disappointed the Neterati still haven't run the lads down. You'd think with Django in the theatres they'd put some elbow grease into the job.

Phooey to the legal silencing - when has that ever stopped Those of Purpose? 

Still, every little mention helps and ... one day. 

Daily Mail ~ Making sure he stays clinked. The Mail does this sort of story best. 

GRAVE-DIGGER BLUES

Listen, you can't show me an album cover like that and not expect me to post sump'n.

Cave - takes a dickens of a long time for Willie to load.

Psst, I'm right to hyphenate, aren't I?

The way the book jacket has it, it's more like Blès apo serioso shoveler.

Anyway, the song is a good 'un - when i finally gets going. 

MEAN YEAR OF THE BLACK SNAKE

Gung hei fat choi and all that but I don't trust this new year so I'm playing John Lee to keep the ju-ju man away. Suck on that!

Also pinning up a charming CNY card (left) that an equally charming friend brought round and about which I churlishly commented, "But this has nothing to do with Chinese new year!"

'But everything to do with a peaceful year ahead.' 

Spot-on. A Daniel Cacouault.  

Oh all right - a smashing CNY photo by my old mucker Keith McGregor.

• The year of the black Snake begins February 10th shortly after the New moon in Aquarius (my sign)
• 2013 year of Snake is meant for steady progress and attention to detail. The Snake is the sixth sign of the Chinese Zodiac, the enigmatic, intuitive, introspective, refined and collected of the Animals Signs. Ancient Chinese wisdom says a Snake in the house is a good omen because it means that your family will not starve.
• The Common Character of People Born in the Year of Snake = 

Reputed to be thoughtful and wise and to approach problems rationally and logically, seldom instinctively.
Such people are complex beings, they are clever and men of few words from their birth. Their business is always going well, but they are stingy very often. They are sometimes egoistic and conceited.
However they can be very active in their friends’ life. They are often too active, not believing other people and relying only on themselves. Snakes are also very insightful and naturally intuitive.
If anyone has a sixth sense, it's those born in the Snake year. This is partly what makes them so mysterious.Snakes come in all varieties of colors and patterns. And maybe that's why people born in the Snake year love to appreciate beauty. People with the Chinese zodiac snake sign are very stylish, fashionable and have exceptional taste.

People born in the Year of the Snake also have a sure touch in money matters but are also inclined to be greedy and somewhat egoistical. Determined and ambitious characters of Snakes take their failures hard. They are usually very attractive on the outside and inwardly, that, taking into consideration their frivolity, can lead to some family problems.

The Cosmic Element and Color of 2013 year of Snake
The 2013 year of Snake is Water Snake, Water Snakes are lucky with finances, they always seem to have money flowing their way. They are adventurous spirits and love to take risks. They are also very intelligent and often a wellspring of creative ideas. Water Snakes love to socialize and meet new friends.They are proud of their achievements, and also very thoughtful and considerate of others.
The colour of the 2013 year of Snake is Black. Black color is the Space, Arctic night, darkness on the Abyss, this is a color of deep waters. The Black Snake will bring people unexpected changes, instability, and changeability. That is why it is important in the year of Snake to plan everything beforehand, and evaluate adequately before taking any actions. You need to be more careful and cautious than ever.

The Overall Trend in 2013 Year of Snake
The 2013 Snake of year has ability to read complicated situation quickly in a controlled manner which is good for business. Signing documents of any kind requires very thorough attention. 2013 horoscope predict it is a good year to begin important detail work. Research and investigation are supported. The Snake has sneaky energy that can be to your advantage. Look for the holes in the loop. A new-found ambition to greatness will inspire you to be all you can be, and provide you with the follow through to actually achieve your goals, And, 2013 year of the Snake also supports added responsibility,
But 2013 Snake need to watch for fanatical commitments since Snakes inclination to spend money quickly than earn them may produce tensions in personal relationships. Create a safe space to work from this 2013 year. The Snake likes protection, needs to feel safe and secure to utilize its special analytical skills. This is the year to make headway in slow and methodical ways. Things will definitely be accomplished as you focus forward.

Other Details of 2013 Year of Snake
1. Ideal compatibility with: Ox and Rooster.
2. More or less compatible with: Rat, Rabbit, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Sheep.
3. Absolutely incompatible with: Tiger and Pig.
4. Lucky colors for the Snake: Yellow, Red
5. Lucky directions for the Snake: Southwest, Northeast
6. Lucky numbers for the Snake: 2, 4, 7, and 9.
7. Monday is the lucky day of the week for Snakes.

OLEAGINOUS PANGLOSSIAN STYLE

There was me and a pal mentioning Pangloss and up comes a clever competition in The Spectator to invent a cutting reply to one of those ghastly naff round-robin letters that I longed to invent and send to all the gardenry simperers on the Sans Lucre Rolodex.

The entry to the right caused me to chuckle. 

What the heck? Add a few more down there.

POST-MORTEM PILLAGE

Interesting evening. I kept my trap shut but I needn't have. 

Mortuary Maul ~ There is, apparently, a highly-tuned efficient network of immediate turning up at a grande maison on the owner's death - with a flat-bed truck - and removing and good stuff while the beneficiaries are crazed with grief at the funeral or, more usually, booking a ticket over.

Nothing obvious, just the good stuff. And San Luca had been on the vultures' pecking list.

All very gentlemanly and discreet, and reserved for foreigners: turn up while the corpse is still warm at the undertakers, snaffle the moveables, and say no more nudge wink know what I mean? High echelon stuff. 1st XI filchery, between and from friends, RIP.

I'd dined an 'embedded' pal and neither felt up for it in the other sense of embedding so went went for coffee and dessert chez mutual pals who had amusing guests whose gin palace of which my companion craved and tour.

The VSOP went round and cigars perfumed the air and suddenly the chat turned to how much more difficult it was to plunder and how fewer were the choice hits.

That's when San Luca came up - maman's 40-year collection of decent chinoiserie blah blah. 

The last decent haul had actually been just round the corner - in and out - but that had been empty with only the retainers possibly in situ and they were Grik  and nae problème, whereas  Sans Lucre had been occupied (by moi) and erratically occupied. 

Which explained the drifters hovering around the gates and at which Sam barked on cue. I have just awarded him double rations, albeit 13 months late.

The amusing thing is that mum and me at the time enjoyed the full story of the pillaging and kicked ourselves at not having been Levantine enough to have thought of it ourselves.

GOOD BOOK ~ BAD BOOK

I posted about this in my Facebook page URLing both articles but then proceeded to gab about it to blog readers who hadn't the faintest idea what I was dementing on about.

• Cheerful books can beat the Crazies.

•  Depressing books also have their place.

Note my wit in keying the 'depressing' books to the Gardenry section of the Sans Lucre bibliothèque.

By the Dronings of Drakula! Such torture it was to sit across the table pinned to my seat by the endless blah blah, fah blucking flah rubbish rabbitings about the effing jardin and bilge botanique that goes with the over-blown hobby.

As a distraction, I used to doodle a map of the matriarchal jewel case and mentally move the tinsel around in accordance to my understanding and concept of the Will ~ and the won't.

Rent-a-page - I also had the clever idea when the droning became intolerable of rising from the torture seat across from the burble and making for the gardenry tomes (see above) and ripping a page or twa' from what looked or sounded like an offending book on the same subject.

Wasn't hard, sometimes even hurled whole volumes into the waggah depending on the punishment being dished to temper and time. Zounds! The Grimethorpe Colliery band could have marched thru the kitchen sans maman noticing my absence or the calming shredding of a glossy botano tome.

CORFU VILLAGES

Bravo Steve Ford, who writes: 

I am well on the way to acheiving the sales needed to break even on the cost of the Corfu Villages eBook and as i write i am over 3/4 of the way there.

As soon as i reach the magic figure all sales after that will be available to give to the villages and charities of Corfu.

I have used every trick in the book when it comes to marketing.

As well as this Blog i have several Facebook pages including, Steve Ford, Corfu Villages Greece Ebook, Corfu Charities, Hawaii Bar Pelekas Corfu and Pelekas Village Corfu.

I am a member of the Corfu Grapevine, Corfu-forum and Agni forum, and have a twitter account for Corfu Villages....

Phew! It's hard work but i know it will be worth it.

I must apologise to the people and friends who are being bombarded with my daily attack on their privacy but hey! no pain....no gain.

So, as always, a BIG thank you to everyone who has bought the pdf ebook or the Amazon Kindle Edition, your contributions to the less fortunate in my second home is invaluable and will greatly appreciated.

Kind regards, Steve, ;-)

PS. Don't forget to tell your friends !!

WTF, EVOLUTION

Evolution? the most bizarre - if not stomach-churning - creatures i have seen. 

certes, could not have imagined them.

BLUE SKY THINKING

 My birthday but i am at home under a blanket by the fire, mercifully sleepy from worrying about my thieving neighbours' reaction when they return from Germany to see the mess their border is in from the toing and froing in their absence. Everyone tells me to calm down and that it was their original theft of land that brought the subject up.

• First they erected a fence 1.7metres into the land, blocking me from the DEH metre and stealing my land at a time when I'm trying to sell the place.
• my topographer instructed his men to remove the fance and erect another well past the cypress roots border and into their land. His reason, to give me land that was 'legal' and save me being fined. I told him that i didnt want to be more of a land-thief than them. In my view, i had lost the moral high ground.
• they moved it to where i had expected it, leaving large divots and a mess.
• i am now petrified for their return and imagining my creeping around the house and dreading exiting in case they are there.

HOBBIES OF THE CARE RECEIVER ~ Had to smile wryly. Came across a letter from a caregiver group to whom i had for advice on dementia and my mother's gardenry hobby that wasted so much of my time and temper. The lady didnt read my letter fully. She advised:

• It was good if the care receiver had a hobby to distract them and caregivers were allowed to lend a hand at the end of the day - within reason. Perhaps set aside a few minutes before the end of ones shift to join in.
• For instance, 10 mins before official time up to help them with a bit of sky for their jigsaw. Or help with their knitting wool, gathering it to a ball.
• But to keep a firm eye on the clock and not let it become a precedent or take up more than 10 minutes. If it ran longer than that, to report it to my manager and put an end to it there and then.

I remember the despair. 10 minutes. Huh huh. 

What an absolutely vile business it is. 

I wrote over the weekend to the aunt who seems to be my only 'company', telling her that one of the signs of cracking up seemed to be clearer dreams of excellent 'production values', very simple and life-like and flowing naturally - like perfect cameos:

• standing in the kitchen, alone, every item crystal clear, and washing up the cutlery in the bowl in the sink (the perfect green)
• walking down a garden path that always cost my balance, and tripping and catching a railing to stop pitching down.
• feeding the goldfish - perfect colouring - and moving to the wind behind me so that the wafer thin food blew across the pond.
• walking down a path and admiring the view.
• parking the car at the gates on my return and enjoying the time before i had to join the dead dementia repeatia of dead stories of dead people, of more fah blucking gardenry flah drone.

Once i dreamed that we were all gathered together for some event but lived separately so none of us knew or had to suffer the reality of the lies and the thieving and the dementia droning ... there was some bovine care-giver whom me laughed at for her adherence to what she was paid for and sulkiness over being expected to garden and her overkill reaction to efforts by my mother to filch her belongings. It was all peaceful and respectful and when i woke it took me a few seconds to surface to reality.

• All wonderfully crystal clear camera work and lovely little touches: Anna being here and we'd packed a picnic and when we set off, she had decided to drive and of course took us unerringly to our beach destination.
• walking in town and suddenly round the corner, a dear friend from Seattle, joining us for a meal, telling old jokes i had forgotten.
• at my amazon computer, the gang all round, and zipping thru a customer service problem using all the correct technology.

It made me wonder if shrinks had a way of gauging a patient's descent by the clarity of his dreams, like opticians go "is this better? is it clearer now? how about this?" Of course, the patient would need a set of standards, "not as clear as last night ... too factual ... lacking a smooth segue into meeting an old pal ... the colours were better in the dream where I was escaping to London."

  

PLEBGATE

Cheering piece - to me - good for Geoffrey.

"What was dismaying were the prejudices revealed by this affair. A deplorable number of people – including journalists, who are meant to be natural sceptics – had been ready to believe a patently implausible story, because Mitchell is a well-heeled, expensively educated Tory, and because "it was the kind of thing he would have said".

No it wasn't. The kind of thing he was likely to have said was, "I thought you guys were supposed to fucking help us". That's what he admitted to having said, and apologised for saying. What he would not have said was that the police should learn their place, or that they were "plebs".

This is an old story. When there's constabulary duty to be done, and it includes fitting someone up by means of invented evidence, our bobbies have always displayed the proverbial cloth ear. The words attributed to Mitchell came straight out of the Jeffrey Archer school of dialogue. Or maybe the mind of the nation has been rotted by Downton Abbey."

Also depressingly confirming my prejudices about the Filth. I actually rant on against them as a joke, but everything I rail about turns out to be truer even than my version.

NEW CORFU GRAPEVINE FORUM

• roll up oyez and all that.
• new more robust forum created to field GV's loonier sillinesses. 
• it may be missing the point - there are some vicious people around with smutty keyboards and i dont think they'll take kindly to being hived off to where they might go mano-a-mano with their own kind. 
• a bit like being given your own to wall to graffiti over ... the fun is hitting  the grapevine itself and panicking the horses of the God-fearing.