11 posts tagged “greece”

If any of you have some clever linguistic skills (in pretty much any language), now's the time that I need your help!

I am trying to promote a project through work and since it's of an international flavour it would really help if we can reach people with the initial information in their own language. Although the pack they'll download is in English, they will at least be armed with the knowledge of what they're downloading!

The text is below. Seriously, all languages welcome and useful! I have my mum working on Greek for me! And a pre-emptive massive THANK YOU...

TNR Dogs: Trap Neuter Release - Solving the problem of street dogs

http://www.tnrdogs.com

Every year millions of dogs from around the world are poisoned or shot in an effort by municipalities to rid their streets of the ‘menace’ of street dogs. These dogs are treated as nothing more than vermin to be exterminated. In order to try and address this situation, two UK charities created a unique project showing that the only way to humanely reduce the number of street dogs is through the Trap, Neuter and Return (TNR) programme.

Thanks to work that has been carried out in Oradea, Romania, we know that this system can work. We've put together our experiences into a template designed to offer guidance anyone who wants to help their local street dog population. It can be adapted as necessary for different areas. Whoever you are, and whatever knowledge you have, we hope to show that you can do it.

The charities involved in Romania aren't funding or managing any projects, but we wanted to share our experiences and provide help to anyone who wants to humanely reduce the number of street dogs where they live.

Read more and download the template at www.tnrdogs.com.

This morning, for one boring reason or another, we had to leave the house earlier than usual to get in. I arrived at Angel station at 7:50am (I officially start work at 9am, but am often there half an hour before) and decided to take advantage of the crisp Autumn air and the time ahead of me to take a stroll along Upper Street to Islington Town Hall and back.

I've always liked the word Islington. But, as in Neverwhere (and if you haven't read it, you really should; you can even read it for free for the next few days), it has a questionable underbelly. It is one of those places in London where the pockets of poverty are thrown into even sharper relief thanks to the gentrified middle class ghettos and oases of pure privilege that surround them. One of its strengths, actually, is the mixture of people and services that make up the whole.

Walking down Upper Street, you're struck immediately by how a village has met the modern world head on. While the walk is punctuated by the ubiqutous host of Starbucks, there is also an overpriced Ottolenghi here, an offbeat Oliver Bonas there, the Worker's Cafe with its cheap all-day breakfast, an expensive boutique full of exclusive (but badly made) tat and a vintage shop heaving with floral tea dresses. All prices, all styles, all shapes and sizes are catered for.

It should be beautiful. But, London, we have a problem.

The problem is that even at 8am, there is no peace. I used to take early walks down Oxford Street sometimes, and at 8am it was quiet enough to be bearable - just. Here, oddly enough in the modern village of Islington, there is no such peace. Enclaves of bohemian hippie shops cling to their cobbled sidestreets and stick their fingers in their ears, chanting "la la la" against the rubbish trucks, taxis, commuter cars, motorbikes and street cleaning vehicles thundering by. No birds can be heard in the splash of green that is provided, helpfully, near the crossroads. No smiles are exchanged between those who walk up and down the street.

In the Starbucks window, the evidence of why the coffee empire has such popularity stares you straight in the face. It's not the quality of the coffee (so-so) or the convenience of the service (have you seen how much it costs?!), it's the fact that there are little islands of chairs where a busy, restless commuter can tuck themselves away from the noise and the chaos for long enough to read a book, scan the paper or do some quiet tap-tap-tapping at their laptop. It's not a coffee shop, it's a quiet pool of peace (at least until the privileged Islington yummy mummies descend on it with their ludicrously-named children, for whom I feel much sympathy. For the children, that is, not the parents. Starbucks is boring for kids - understand this and you will be happier).

My friend David, whom I will catch up with tonight now that he is three weeks into seminary, commented once that people are "just not meant to live this close together". It's true, too.

Take Athens. The suburbs are still clinging onto vestiges of 1950s life (except for the improved technology and equality: that they've grasped) and here, around the neighbourhood kafeneio and the local supermarket, there's a hub of recognition and society. People acknowledge each other with a Hellenic grunt - a smile if you're lucky - and a shared complaint about the world; they gossip and exchange information across the balconies. The further into town you go, the more sardine-like and claustrophobic the atmosphere becomes and the more tempers fray and that blunt Greek honesty, incisive as a chisel in Aristotle's hand, becomes a cudgel in the clammy palms of his contemporary cousin.

London is awake 24 hours a day, seven days a week, virtually 365 days a year. It is bearable for about two of those hours, 4am to 6am, and sadly I am rarely awake to enjoy those. Have you ever seen what a sleep deprived person looks like? Now imagine a sleep deprived city, shuffling endlessly towards its next shot of coffee, making up stronger and deadlier mixes to rouse itself from its sour-stink slumber.

I love this place. It's in my bones and my blood, and I would never deny it. But it's fast becoming time to get out of this place before the fetid fumes of the unwashed and neglected city drown out all that as good and beautiful and wondrous in it for good.

Can I ever be comfortable being a tourist in London? Some day - not too far from now - I'll have to find out.

It's a fact that I'm simply not happy when things are going well. This is because this creates in me a massive and near unshakeable anxiety that everything's going to go wrong (I'm perpetually terrified that either I'm going to die or Ashley is, for example).

Yes, I know I should go for therapy and I probably will at some point.

However, what happens when I get into a routine is that I start focussing on some displacement activity. At the moment it's thinking about moving away. Even though it's at least a year before I can even start to make that kind of decision, it's preying on my mind constantly.

Yesterday I was deliberating over the fact that although neither Ashley nor I are particularly fond of Athens in a long-term sense, it would make a lot more sense to go there than Thessaloniki.

People we know in Athens: several cousins, two uncles + family, younger cousins, two people I know on blogs who I'd be sure to try and meet up with (hi Ilias!), my Dad's colleagues (some of whom are English-born).

People we know in Thessaloniki: one cousin + wife.

Places to stay in Athens: my grandmother's flat. My parents are planning to sell it at some point but would gladly rent it to us. Two bedrooms, kitchen, full bathroom, huge living room, veranda, opposite a gerokomio (retirement home) that no-one can build more than two storeys on), about five minutes walk from Panormou Metro station, gorgeous view.

Places to stay in Thessaloniki: well, we'd find one.

Likelihood of employment in Athens: I'm pretty sure my father's employers would help us put feelers out, even if we didn't actually work with them.

Likelihood of employment in Thessaloniki: no idea. It does help when you know people, though, sad to say.

You get the picture. It makes a lot more sense, but then it doesn't. Because the chaotic, frenetic crowdedness of Athens somewhat takes my breath away. Unless there really are affordable residential areas within the commuter belt that don't make you feel like you're being whipped with a haddock rhythmically whilst being breathed on by an asthmatic factory? Don't get me wrong, here, I think Athens is a brilliant city in a number of ways, but if I'm considering escaping the insanity of London then quieter would be good.

I'm so very afraid that if we disturbed this little friendly nest we've got here, surrounded by friends and family, even for the good of our children and our future, we'd end up having no friends and getting sick of each other. I know it takes time and we'd have to throw ourselves into things by starting conversations and going to events, but I can't help feeling that it makes sense to go where you know people... unless of course by going there you're taking all the sense out of the operation in the first place.

It'll be interesting to read this a year from now, when I can even begin to consider these things and seeing whether I've changed my mind entirely!

I'm not even sure I do. I think at the moment the thought is more "OMG, I've just realised I don't want to spend the rest of my days in England".

I've already decided that I'm not staying in London any longer than I have to. Don't get me wrong, I've had a long and fruitful love affair with this city. I was born here, and it's as much woven into the fabric of my upbringing and behaviour (no, I don't smile on trains) as anything my parents, family or friends managed. Being relatively smart, I don't even really buy into the whole stabbing hysteria - even though I work in Islington - since I know crime rates are not really changing that substantially. I do think the criminal demographic is changing, and it's a fact that the people I know who were born in London had a shorter childhood and were more mature at an early age.

When I was young I was proud of this. Now that I'm thinking of having kids in a couple of years, I find it depressing and a little frightening.

My first thought - and what's probably going to happen - is moving just outside London to somewhere within an hour or so's commuter distance. Thanks to the astronomical costs associating with commuting, this will mean convincing my work that I can do my job from home at least half the week. It's completely and utterly possible; I work on the web and would happily provide my own hardware if they'll provide a CMS that works properly on Camino.

In Greece this summer, however, Ashley and I were on the verge of jacking it all in and getting a large loan to open up some sort of business in Kefalonia (we did have an idea which I'm keeping to myself for now). We knew we had little experience, but were willing to learn from any and everybody if necessary. What scuppered that idea in the end was the knowledge that what we earned in a summer might be enough to see us through a lovely winter on the island, but actually we wanted to be back in London for winter. We couldn't afford that - and where would our kids go to school?

We know we don't want to live in Athens. It's a great city from some viewpoints, but the sheer volume of people shoved into a small space would get to me in the end. Nevertheless, the quality of life in Greece is just becoming so much better than here. The food is better (and cheaper), the weather is better, the pace of life is different and less frenetic, public services have massively improved since my childhood... etc etc. All the things that are deteriorating here seem to be improving there.

I would happily live in Thessaloniki. Ashley's never seen it, but I'm sure he'd like it and it is the hub of what Jewish society is left in Greece.

Language isn't really even an issue. There are English-speaking jobs and Ashley's going to start lessons at the end of the summer. My writing and advanced speech are wobbly at best, but that's easily brushed up. Six months of living there and I'm sure we'd be confident and able.

Yet, in the back of my mind, I think other places would be more exciting. I've never even been to Canada, but the idea of such a ridiculously beautiful country, being in an English-speaking world and having all the benefits of being in North America plus free health care... well, that's pretty beguiling. I have been all over parts of the US several times. I know that I would jump at the chance to live in (the more populous areas of) New England. Florida too.. well, maybe. At least in parts. Not Miami, ugh. Definitely East Coast, at any rate.

I have a child's excitement about the US - about North America in general. And yet getting a job, sorting a visa, finding a legal way to stay would be a headache and a half. IF they ever succeeded. And I'd be really far away from my closest family. I'm sure my sister would bring the Little Weasel (my nephew) to Greece for holidays, but America? Not likely that often if only due to expense and distance.

I don't know if I'll ever actually leave England. My mother has lived in three countries (Egypt, Greece and England) and my father two (the latter two). My sister moved from London to Leeds at 18 for university and didn't come back. Whether on a small or large scale, I have a nomad's fear of stagnation. We like to shake things up - I'm just not happy when there's not a crisis because it gives me too much time to think of all the things that could go wrong.

Moving to Greece would be logistically easy enough. Any place would be emotionally hard at times. I'm pretty sure my transatlantic thoughts are largely because I have never lived there and don't appreciate what daily life is really like; I know I felt nothing but horror standing by the supermarket fridge in Palo Alto in January staring at all the different kinds of coffee creamer and thinking "would you even miss this shit if it were gone? Why do you need peanut butter flavoured coffee?! Because you can have it?". US excess makes me slightly ill - I really didn't like Vegas.  I haven't lived in Greece but have spent so much time there with people who have that it holds no real mysteries. My birth is registered in Athens. I belong there. I can vote there and have a passport.

So why is it that when I belong to two places and know the wonderful warmth of having two 'homes', I nonethless don't quite feel like I belong anywhere?

So, I will start with the end and tell you that I'm currently checking out hypnotherapy for my increasingly disturbing anxiety attacks when flying. One therapist I'm interested in also claims to treat "excessive guilt", which sounds bloody good to me.

In keeping with going backwards, I'd like to take a moment to address the Greek teachers of Oxford Study Group or whatever the hell you were called, and I'd be happy to translate the following rant into Greek if you have any trouble understanding it:

Here's a tip from someone who didn't even manage to finish teacher training, but was born with a helping of common sense. When you take a group of early teen schoolkids on a summer trip on an aeroplane, please ensure that you don't fuck off down to the front of the plane and leave them to fend for themselves. What happens when you do is that they are obnoxious to cabin staff and are very loud and irritating. They throw blankets around, playfight in the aisles and whack their heads on the ceiling (actually, that bit made us laugh). They also need to be told off THREE TIMES by a member of the cabin crew who has better things to do like, oh, I don't know, keeping us safe and comfortable. Do your job and go and separate the fuckers, or next time I will raise an almighty fuss and embarrass you.

Bilingually.

So, we arrived back safely, if with added migraines, after two extremely restful and pleasant weeks. I can't tell you how much I needed the break. I do feel guilty that I never got round to contacting Iliask - I'd plead seeing relatives but most of the times I intended to drop him a line I fell asleep in the baking heat instead - but this was the first time in ages I actually considered living in Greece one day (as did Ashley, who's now looking around for Greek lessons to add to his fount of random requests and expletives).

The highlights:

- Five days in Athens
- Three nights on board the Ocean Countess taking in excursions to Patmos, Knossos (Heraklion), Mykonos, Santorini and Ephesus (in Kusadasi, Turkey)
- Four nights in Kefallonia, with twice-daily swims and sunbathing before and after the main heat of the day.

At 36 - 39 degrees Celsius every single day, I finally feel warm. Plus we've returned to the first decent days of British summer, which helps. I ate FAR too much of everything and gained 5lbs (most of it Kaimaki ice cream and semolina halva, I'm sure of it), but who could resist heaps of uber-fresh fish, octopus, grilled meat, salad,  bread, tsatsiki and horta?

It's good to be back, but I would happily have had another week of it.

Anyway, how have you all been?

I know that sounds ridiculous on the surface. Maybe it's ridiculous at its root; I don't claim to be an intellectual, just a reasonably intelligent woman living in the West in the 21st Century. I am the product of my upbringing, my community, my reading and myself, and so I cannot help but have my opinions steeped in my experiences.

It's slow at work today so I've been trawling Melanie Phillips' Spectator blog. Mostly because I once was briefly acquainted with her son, but also because I read something or other which referenced Israel and she was the first person who popped into my head.

I find her someone with whom it is difficult to agree to disagree. She is regularly either uncomfortably right or disquietingly wrong about whatever she is talking about. Even when she is making some of her more eye-opening (and by this I mean the eyes are opened and the eyebrows raised, not that she has convinced me of the truth of her words) and alarming statements, she is full of passion which can sometimes be taken for being embittered. She reminds me of Ashley's best friend Dan, who questions why people think he is vengeful simply because he doesn't believe in proportional response. In his, paraphrased from memory, words:

"If someone hurts you, if the little country messes with the powerful one, then you don't calculate how much to hurt them in return. When they took a swing at you and only left bruises, they still meant to hurt, to kill. So you don't just shove back; you obliterate."

I can't say I entirely agree with his viewpoint, and I'm not, at this point, going to go into why. It just illustrates that sense of bullish principle that I find in Phillips' writing as well.

As a Jewish journalist, one might expect a reasonable amount about Judaism and Israel. But the post that struck me (and lead to my title pronouncement) was one defending the rights of two Christian preachers - one, allegedly, a convert from Islam - who were seen out of an area of Birmingham where they were preaching by a Muslim PCO (Police Community Support Officer) on the grounds that it was a Muslim area and this was "hate crime". They were warned that if they came back and were assaulted, well, "they were warned".

Now there are a whole number of issues here.

1. What the hell is a Muslim area? There are Muslim countries but within a country that defends free speech (albeit nominally a Christian country) there are no demarcated areas. People can practice their faith wherever the hell they want.

2. Police should be dealing with the perpetrators, not the victims. If they think violence is likely to erupt, they should deal with the causes of that.

But that's a specific case. What it showed, more generally, is the dangerous gap between offence and defence.

At what point does the innocent, non-violent, perhaps hopeless practice of one religion become offensive to another? Nailing a pig's head to an Asian community centre as happened earlier this week? That's a hate crime. It's disgusting. It takes a particular element it knows to be forbidden and unclean to a particular faith and culture and forces it upon those people with the specific aim of hurting, offending and discouraging those people. Hence the "go home" signs that accompanied it. Intention has a lot to do with the hurt, and since nailing pig heads to the wall isn't really common practice in any culture it cannot be explained away by any other argument.

Had the two Christian men been trying to convert by preaching that the Muslim people in the area were 'wrong', I would also have taken a step back. Of course, sticks and stones, but we label other kinds of name-calling as offensive and abusive. They were not doing such a thing as far as anyone knows (I'm happy to be corrected on this point if anyone knows better). I'd still be inclined to leave them to it, and I'd still offer them protection because we have this wonderful thing known as "freedom of speech" (or we like to think we do) but I'd disagree with their aims.

In the end we cannot, if we have any faith in the land we live in, expect the law to take sides. There will be times, by the very nature of things, when people will clash over beliefs. The law must protect everyone, so it cannot be Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Sikh, Buddhist, Hindu, Baha'i... etc. etc.

How can the law decide whether it is an offence, for example, for a Jewish person to hear words said on the street that they do not agree with?

Using the excuse that it is an offence under that person's faith's law isn't good enough. It cannot protect a person of another faith, so it's not strong enough as universal law.

As a Christian, I am not interested in living in a Christian country, although under John Locke's version of tacit consent I have agreed to this. In an ideal world, I would be interested in living in a country where I can practice my faith for as long as and as overtly as I choose. I would expect the law to curtail me only if I deliberately and premeditatedly offended or physically hurt another person.

Recently, with the furore over the Archbishop of Canterbury's words on including elements of Shariah law in the UK, I was watching a debate programme in which a Muslim man explained patiently that Shariah law protected women, allowed faster divorces, etc. To him I say: Great! It sounds like there are elements that ought to be present in a modern, egalitarian society. We can't have a religious law for a mixed population and Muslim women shouldn't be the only ones offered this protection. Let's campaign together to change the secular law to accommodate these excellent concepts.

Christianity is the modern whipping boy. In some cases, defensive, angry Christians, who completely misinterpret turning the other cheek (in my opinion), spring up to demand protection. Sorry, folks, but you don't need protecting. You really don't. I get just as irritated with the stupidity of some of the atheist arguments and roll my eyes just as hard when people spout that bullshit about religion having "killed the most people". (Tell it to Stalin, the great, murderous atheist of the 20th Century). My point is I have the choice of answering those arguments or refraining from getting involved in the debate. I don't need to loudly trumpet my offence because I'm too busy discussing it rationally with my friends, my family and my God.

At the moment I am highly irritated by the situation in Greece where two gay couples will be prosecuted for taking advantage of a loophole in the law that doesn't state the gender of those being married. They wed, and now they will be taken to court over it because the law was inadequately stated. And why would the government want to protect the inadquate law? Because they're all Greek Orthodox Christians. And they're legislating in a Christian way. I shake my head, and wait for them to catch up with reality.

When will people stop behaving like children? When will they realise that "fair" is not stopping other people from doing something you disagree with but allowing them to live a free(ish) life?

It's not that I don't know that all ethics is essentially based on what you agree with. But the things that we - almost universally - don't agree with are things that physically or materially disadvantage someone, and there's not a religion or ethical atheist group in the world that I can think of who would have a problem with protecting people against those crimes. We already have the universal agreement. Now can we have the universal agreement to disagree?

And why do I make the claim that I do in the title? Because in a world where there are no longer many places that are exclusively one faith, pushing back and forth over minor issues is only going to lead to more people saying "bugger this for a game of soldiers, religions are full of mentalists" and perpetuating the nonsense that is said about religions until the practice of all faiths is banned. In the case of many a rabid atheist, that's exactly what they want. I don't see why those of us who have faith need play into their hands by constantly wailing and gnashing our teeth. We must accept that if we want our own faith to survive, we must leave room for someone else's and be ruled by laws that only make reference to faith insofar as guaranteeing freedom of non-harmful practice.

Update: Boy threatened with legal action for saying Scientology is a 'cult'. Scientologists aren't the first religious types to try stamping all over free speech, but like most people protesting too much (like those Catholics who get outraged over Harry Potter) they end up looking rather ridiculous. This is not a new story, but I wanted to add Caitlin Moran's comments:

Aside from the fact that if we ignored our brains and filtered this story purely through our dumb animal emotions, it felt a bit as if Tom Cruise was about to throw a child in jail - which was obviously quite exciting - you do have to ask, what is happening to this country? Have we turned into a bunch of wet nuns? First, we should be thrilled that we've got at least one teenage kid up, fully dressed, philosophically engaged and able to spell. Secondly, I'm embarrassed that all the grown-up liberal countries such as Canada and Denmark are laughing at us.

Sometimes it feels like the treadmill's been turned up to 10 and the incline is increasing and NO ONE'S TELLING YOU WHY.

I am bouncing from such utter, utter joy to such irritating niggly detail-strewn stress that I suspect I am becoming somewhat difficult to live with. Yesterday I growled at my mother for asking one too many wedding questions and there was much grovelling this morning. She forgives me far too easily. Far more easily than I ever forgive myself, for anything at all.

The venue and catering sorted, we're now on the hunt for a band. We found a wonderful jazz band who charge reasonable rates and pack an absolutely brilliant young female singer called Liz Cass (visit her website, it's a rubbish design that doesn't really work but you should be listening, not looking). Sadly, we think her repertoire, while beautiful to us and a handful of the guests with taste, probably won't lead to a rollicking party atmosphere. We need people to dance, otherwise it will all be a bit depressing. So we've switched gears to Funkify (I know, but their performances are more vibrant than their name), provided we can afford them. The quote's on its way.

Meanwhile, I have a staggering quote for hair and make up - a maximum of £275 including a consultation / trial run, travel expenses (to London and Oxford from Gloucestershire). I'm sure that's pretty steep, but on the other hand she looks really, really good. The budget is there for it, if necessary, but I'm going to have to do some digging to find an alternative. I only require a simple up-do for hair - I want it neat, sleek and out of the way where it can't go tangly and unkempt - but I'd like some really good makeup and that's what this lady specialises in. Well, we'll see. I'm dreaming of smoky eyes.

You can see where the details and my scribble bedecked diary are getting on my nerves. But I'm dealing with it, because all that pales into insignificance when you turn over in the morning to be wrapped into a warm snuggle and the love of your life whispering that they adore you.

Plus, I'll be in Greece in one month and one day! For two weeks! In Athens! And Kefalonia! And on a (free!!) cruise around islands I've never visited!

Can't say completely unfair and ridiculously privileged fairer than that.

This is one mainly for the Greeks and Greek-speakers among you.

Greek sayings transliterated into English are a joy, and when JB overheard my mother saying something that sounded funny, he asked me to translate it. He has subsequently learned to say "eki pou klani i alepou"* every time someone asks where something is.

Now whenever we see foxes running around West London, he starts demanding "pou klaneis?!"** of them. Ultimately, though, being a designer, he had to show his feelings visually...

You can take a guess as to what it's saying.

* "Where the fox farts."
** "Where do you fart?!"

I don't know what irritates me more about this article; that the Greek Orthodox Church is getting involved in politics which have to be secular - because they affect non-religious people, whether you think that's right or wrong - or the really lazy piece of BBC journalism that led to this statement:

The government proposes to give common-law couples the same rights as those who have gone through legal or religious ceremonies.

It wants to harmonise Greek law to European standards.

European standards? What the fuck are they? Plus, the writers of this article do know that European society is based on a (secular) Greek model? Oh, and by the way, if you didn't know it already, BBC journalist, COMMON LAW MARRIAGE DOES NOT EXIST IN THE UK. It never has. Oh, and by the way, unless you also sign a register, religious ceremonies don't count as married under the law and that's the case in more than one country (just ask Eddie Murphy and his new "wife").

As cohabitees in the UK, you have no legal rights unless you create them by contract. Marriage protects you; cohabiting doesn't. I'm not saying that's a good thing, and I'd welcome couples who have no traditional, familial or religious imperative to marry getting the same rights as those who have conducted civil ceremonies. That's why I totally supported the creation of civil partnerships.

The Greek Orthodox Church has to come in for its own criticism about this. They consider cohabitation as prostitution - I have no problem with that. I don't agree, but that's between me and my understanding of my religion, and I'd be interested in talking to theologians on this issue. I just get frustrated when church and state collide; my personal ethics cannot govern an atheist, a Jew, a Sikh, a Ba'hai... you get the picture.

The central code of legal "morality" has to be based on something universal. It might be universal and a common religious principle, and that's great (for me!) but how can we have a hope in hell for an ecumenical future if a particular denomination - albeit the most common one in the country - keeps interfering?

I've come to the conclusion it was a really stupid idea to have a house party. Not because the flat, known by me and JB as the "Weasel Nest"*, is small. Not because we've invited far more people than can actually fit into it (we can shove them over the balcony, it's fine. The children downstairs can eat them). I've invited Jews and Greeks. This can only end in tears.

Everyone knows that when you come away from a Greek party or wedding, the memory that remains is the food. Utter social devastation can be caused by one person saying "it was okay, but the food was disappointing". Or worse, that there wasn't enough. My cousin makes jokes that his mother caters for the Israeli armed forces when she's having a couple of people round, but he's not entirely wrong. There has to be enough for leftovers to last at least two days and everyone has to leave threatening to instantly develop a hiatus hernia.

Jews, it turns out, not too much to my surprise, are just as bad. Or good, depending on how you look at it. Which is all find and dandy when you're attending a party hosted by one or t'other, but it's a bloody nightmare when you're hosting your own.

Leaving that aside, I have English guests too. They're pandering to their own stereotypes as well by just being interested in one thing: booze. Which is easier dealt with, if more expensively, but leads to lingering worries about people throwing up in places other than the toilet.

So now I somehow have to find a goodly selection of booze and cater for 20+ people squeezed into a tiny one bedroom nest. We intend to have a birthday cake at some point (I'm on Sunday, JB the next Friday, but it's also a belated housewarming put off since November) so we'll have to serve parev stuff  - things classified neither as milk nor meat - plus milky stuff. It's going to mean a lot of fish, I guess. Or pizza, but I have a fear of pizzas at parties - it harks back to the days I used to be one of what seemed like 4,000 small children all attending a schoolmate's birthday party. I'm thoroughly tempted to go really retro and have pineapple and cheese on cocktail sticks stuck into half a grapefruit, but I'd yack if I actually had to eat that. Especially the grapefruit. *shudder*

This is going to mean a shitload of bagels, and JB is going to have to help. I was supposed to take the day off tomorrow but after I quit, and took two sick days this week, that wasn't possible so he's using the last of his holiday to clean house and buy supplies. I've got a mother-daughter pampering session I promised my Ma on Saturday, so we're going to be very, very short of time. Plus we're out Friday night at his mother's doing the Shabbas thing.

Calm yourself, Alex. It can be done. They're Jews and Greeks, not rabid bagel-devouring monsters.

In a word: oy.

*I'll explain some time.