|I also organized my craft closet!|
I'm the Expat Martha Stewart!
Since we last virtually gathered together on this blog, two more people have tried to ask me for directions in Greek. I'm passing! I'm really passing! I couldn't help them, but at least I look like I could.
|This is something I found when I got lost.|
It's a church for St. George.
You know that guy, he's the patron Saint of England.
Everybody loves him.
I love the "Beware of Dog" sign.
I want one for Bella.
This morning, I watched as some poor soul tried to learn to drive a stick. I think, based on not very much internet research, that you have to obtain formal instruction from a driving school if you want to get a license in Greece. You also have to be 18 or older. Almost every car here is manual, so it's an essential skill to learn. I got a real kick out the dude this morning. It's the first time I've seen someone in another country engaging in the universal struggle of learning manual. I remember trying to learn how to drive stick in high school in the middle of winter in Utah. I got stuck on a snowy, .01% incline, and couldn't get the car moving. I killed it more than a dozen times trying to get over the "hill." The harder I tried, the angrier I got. The angrier I got, the more the windows fogged up. After a while, I found an audience. None of them helped, they just stood and enjoyed the scene. I can't remember how I finally got out of there, but I think the profanity helped.
|This has no relevance to any of the topics we've covered,|
but look at my freaking basil. Look at it!
This afternoon, I caught a guy peeing on a tree near the mall. He didn't seem that fazed by my sudden appearance, maybe because he was peeing in public in a parking lot. I don't know enough Greek profanity to tell him what a ****-hat he was being, especially since there were bathrooms about a hundred
|Bella, waiting to hear that profanity.|