Aegina Home & Living - Living in Aegina

 

 

 


LIVING IN AEGINA

What is it REALLY like to live in Aegina?

 

                                                           LIVING


 

LIVING                                                                   JANUARY 2018
  

REFLECTING ON AN ORGANIC CHRISTMAS


 

As usual, we had all of our children with us on the island for Christmas 2017 and this year, for the first time ever, Mr. L had excitedly ordered a fresh, organic turkey, one of 26 raised by an old friend of ours.

Satisfied that it had been humanely slaughtered  and wasn’t within earshot of hearing its siblings murdered,  we placed our order, my one stipulation being that it had to be headless, so that it didn’t look so like a turkey that had once lived and run happily in the yard. Our friends passed by two days before Christmas and heaved it from the car boot, all 7.8 kilos of dead male turkey. I never looked at it but Mr. L took it to the fridge in the shed where it was to lay until it was time for me to stuff it.

2017 was going to be the Christmas of great organization, no socializing for Mr. L and me on Christmas Eve, just preparing masses of vegetables whilst drinking a glass of sherry. Our children helped and so for two hours, we sat around the table, peeling chopping, preparing for the great feast, to be shared the next day with our extended family.

Finally, the kids went out and Mr. L and I discussed what exactly would go into the stuffing; we voted for cashew nuts, cranberries, breadcrumbs, onions and fresh thyme that my daughter and I had picked on our walk to Paratiritirio. We went to bed early as we were to get up at 06.00 hrs to stuff the turkey and prepare the potatoes (Mr. L has a great talent for cooking potatoes which he douses in plenty of fresh lemon juice, olive oil and loads of black pepper) that were to envelope the turkey in its huge beaten pan and then we were to drive it to the fournos in Kipseli where, for 15 euro, the baker would cook our Christmas lunch.

So at 06.15 on Christmas morning, we were being typically Anglo Saxon and drinking steaming mugs of strong black tea in our kitchen, actually enjoying being industrious at such an hour  until we were interrupted by our middle child who had just arrived home, stinking of night clubs, in acute need of a large glass of water. He kissed us goodnight and we wished him a good morning, instructing him to get some sleep, as we would be waking him at midday and would be expecting some help before the family arrived.(Child 2 makes a great Greek salad and I wanted him on board!!)

Anyway, Mr. L and I tiptoed out of the house taking care not to wake our exhausted, smelly adult children and it was actually very pleasant driving to the fournos at that time of the day. The sun was beginning to rise, so the sky was tinged grey pink and the dew on the tufts of grass winked a glassy sheen. The noises though were a real symphony of raw animal communication, from the early birds beginning to tweet, to the ubiquitous dogs territorially barking and sheep…we couldn’t see them but we could hear them, a natural concert uninterrupted by any other sound.

The baker waited outside the fournos for us; we were the first to arrive and he deftly opened our boot and removed the tray, his main instruction being to return before 13.00rs to collect our cooked turkey, otherwise there would be no Christmas lunch, closing hours were strictly at 13.00 hrs.

Back at home, I placed stocking s on our children’s beds at 10 am and enjoyed a quiet morning until midday, when they HAD to get up… and they were brilliant! Well versed in stage setting, they knew exactly what had to be done before Mr. L’s family arrived at 13.30, so within an hour, the turkey had been collected, the tables set, crackers and napkins all colour coordinated and they themselves, showered, dressed and freshened as if they had never been out most of the night and for the first time ever, we left present opening until the end of the day.

The turkey was good, a little dark on the outside but heh! that wasn’t my fault and it was really liberating not to have had that responsibility but both Mr. L and I felt a little guilt and sympathy for the bird that graced the table, a destiny determined by our traditions, so perhaps next year, the centre dish could well end up being a nut roast!!

  .-.-.-.-.


This year will be the year that our internet site changes, so be prepared for a different outlay and some teething problems

Meanwhile, we wish everyone a healthy, safe and fulfilling 2018.




Alison Lorentzos                                                       copyright 2018

 

 

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