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You know the feeling, when you plant a seed accidentally and one day you see a flower, or a tree, or a strawberry bush has grown out of it? This is how I felt last night, when the boys dragged me by the hand across the house, to show me the bufoto (beautiful) colors in the sky, and asked me to take a picture of it at various stages of the sunset, meanwhile standing there and talking about nature, clouds and wind, listening attentively to the birds…

Here is to the beauty of nature, to our ability to stop and acknowledge and appreciate it, to passing on the skill to the next generation, and to sharing it all. It is moments like this that are the best reminder of the power of example in raising our children, of speaking out our thoughts instead of admiring in silence.

(By the way, this is exactly the reason I keep doing yoga in their presence, even though it is entirely not relaxing to hold any pose with two little people jumping, wrestling, or hanging off me. Soon, I keep thinking, they ‘ll just join in and then we will have that too to share. Soon…)

I seem to be going through a phase of nostalgia, but what else can you think of when the media is showering you with Father’s Day ads? When I was growing up, Father’s Day wasn’t around, at least not in Greece, like Mother’s Day was. In fact, Mother’s Day was a special school celebration, with songs and speeches, where mothers were invited (and tried not to giggle at the sappy theme of the event).

I was around 6-8 when, inspired by my overdeveloped sense of balance and fairness, I decided we need a father’s day. So I made up a date for it, and drew a card for my dad to celebrate it. (It must have been so cute, come to think of it!) I don’t have a photo of that card here, but I do have a lovely photo of my parents when they were younger than I am today. Happy Parents’ Day!

In all the computers I use, both at home and at work, I like to change the photo of my desktop often. It keeps me inspired, an indicator of my moods and thoughts. Today, on a beautiful Friday morning that started with a glorious thunderstorm and is expected to end with a bus ride to kittyland, I have this lovely photo my brother sent me yesterday. He named it Chalkidiki in the 60’s.

Honestly, I think he just took it this week, but he made it look like it was from the 60’s. Or, perhaps it IS from the 60’s and it is so amazing that the place in the picture looks exactly like that still. Then again, with that very same boat in there? hmmm… Methinks brother has some explaining to do… Either way, I love the photo, on my desktop, a reminder of what I will be able to enjoy myself in just a couple of weeks. I am so looking forward to it! Thank you A!

coffeemaker jug in sink


Mandala from Tibetan exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum

hingali (sp?)



Not everything is perfect. In fact, most things in life are blessed with varying degrees of imperfection. Beauty and feeling have nothing to do with it.

My phone decided to take this photo of me when I wasn’t paying attention. I give it all the credit, I just happened to be there, at a random moment of fortuitous chance.

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