The Red Wheel Barrow

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

So begins William Carlos Williams' famous poem and for years I passed the old wheel barrow outside Harry van Layden's house here on Hydra, it was always painted in a beautiful Greek, loulaki blue. I remember I even tried to write a blue wheel barrow poem once but of course, since I hardly understood the fine points of Williams' poem anyway it was difficult to make a parody or a poem with a stupid tag. But then today when I passed, the wheel barrow had been painted red. Beautiful. It seems like the wheel barrow is in use all the time, it's not there for show. And now that it's painted red it will be even harder for me to make a poem out of it.

Barba Yannis

Barba Yannis came to cut the olive tree; I held the ladder for him while he cut the branches. He was happy with the tree and the way it’s growing. But when he looked at the lemon tree he shook his head, it was no good, and he cut it down and said that the shade from the olive tree makes it impossible to grow a tree at that spot, so I may have to put stones there as well. And he will take out the poor mandarin tree and put a lemon tree there instead, we need lemons in the garden. He also cut a few branches off the orange tree and he was pleased with it, although he tasted one of the oranges and thought they were a bit sweet.

We had a chat while he tasted the orange, he said he is now 81 and his problem with the knee is worse, also his back is aching. He doesn’t work much, only little, he said. He helps a few people with trees, he has his own trees – he has over 20 olive trees and some other, close to his house. Also in the mountains he has the bees and the honey. He said that this year in June there will be honey – last year was nothing. But there’s no problem for him to get up in the mountains because he has his donkey. He doesn’t drink much, he said, only a little wine these days. He has even stopped with the Cipporo!

All this conversation was made without him knowing almost any English and my Greek is very limited indeed. But Yannis just talks and never hesitates and with his hands and a couple of questions from me we manage really well.

Katalava?

Mr. Blue lives on Hydra

Those of you who read my little book The poetry of Mr. Blue, you know that Blue lives here on the island. Here is an exceptionally good review from B.L. Kennedy at the blog Medusa's Kitchen. If I happen to run into Mr. Blue I will show it to him. Maybe he reads this blog?

Dinner at Krifo Limani

Dinner at Krifo Limani

We had some deep fried fresh Kalamari last night, just with some salt and lemon. Dimitris had caught it himself, he said. But first a Greek salad, Xoriatiki, with a slice of feta cheese on top, a slice that showed not only that we’re important guests but also that we are good friends with the owner and what can prove that better than this really heavy chunk of perfectly cured feta on top of the tomatoes and cucumber and pepper, with the oregano and oil sprinkled over. And a few black olives as full as small plums. A tiny drop of the strong vinegar, of course. The small plate of Tzatziki on the side. The Gigantes, the beans made in the oven in a spicy tomato sauce. The black bean salad, Mavromatika in oil and vinegar with parsley and red onion on top. The Dolmades, of course. That’s the reason we came today, we knew that Dimitris was making fresh Dolmades today. Of course, it took us many years of eating out in Greece but now we are “specialistas”, we don’t ask what they have or (of course not...) start to look at the menu – no,no,no... we ask what’s fresh today. ”What did you make today?” Easy.

He could have been The Boy on the Dolphin

My friend Michael Lawrence was 12 years old and his family lived in Rome and one day when Michael was riding the bus home from school the man with heavy glasses opposite him asked, “Do you want to be in the movies?” The next day Michael sat in a badly lit room and was given a script to read. He was a good looking blonde kid and that’s probably why the man picked him out on the bus; he was casting the film but didn’t know that Michael’s father was an actor from Hollywood and that Alan Ladd, who was the lead actor in the movie they were about to start filming, was a good friend of Michael’s father. Michael was not given a fair chance to work on the script and he was to read from a text he had never seen before. He didn’t get the part in The Boy on a Dolphin, the film that was shot on Hydra later that year, with Sophia Loren playing the female lead. Alan Ladd probably never knew that his friend’s son had read for the part and neither did Michael’s father.

Anyway, Michael Lawrence came to Hydra many years later and now lives down the road from me in Kamini; he’s a good friend and last night over dinner we talked about this episode from 50 years ago. Maybe if he’d gotten the part he would have ended up marrying the stunningly beautiful, but slightly older Sophia Loren and then living a life of love and luxury. Well, at least those were our speculations last night at Dimitris’ tavern. Who can tell?

The Colossus of Maroussi

This morning I finished reading, I think for the third time, Henry Miller's The Colossus of Maroussi. One of the really great books. I recently found this photo in a biography on Seferis, here you see Miller and Katsimbalis (who was The Colossus and for whom the book was written) visiting Hydra in 1939. On the steps of the painter Ghikas' huge house down in Kamini. Miller's description of Katsimbalis in the book is the writing of a pure compassionate genius.

Check out Miller's sun-glasses. Giorgios Seferis wrote: "...putting on his black spectacles as though to work on an oxy-acetylene flame...".

Intense guys, those two.

moustache tanaka

My friend has grown a moustache and it suits him well.
He looks distinguished and reminds me of all the times
I saw his late father in the movies,
often playing and looking like a gangster,
even without a moustache.