Greece

I'm trying to figure out how to describe my recent trip to Greece without sounding like a spoiled brat. Here goes nothing...

My youngest sister graduated from KU earlier this spring, and in celebration for being freed from the shackles of his children's tuition, my father decided to basically pay for another semester's equivalent in the form of a Grecian sailing trip for the Pharo/Porcelli/Kimball (Dad, Megs, Reilly, me, Joey, Spence) clan. Let's just say that being an oil executive outweighs the horrendous ass kicking the Euro delivers the American Dollar, and off we went.
We hatched the plan of going to Greece while on our last family trip In 2007 we were at the cottage on Lake Michigan for the Fourth of July. Joey loves to sail, so she proposed the Aegean, and as I knew there was no way I'd afford my own personal sailboat for decades (if ever), I gave my support to the idea. We cruised around on a 45 foot catamaran, which sounds huge until you pack 7 people on board (Capitan included). Somehow, and I can only credit the grace and mercy of Jesus Christ, Superstar, we made it home without one single incident of fratricide.
The fact of the matter is that when I look back at the trip, most of the islands we visited blend together. So do the days. There is only so much sitting on a sail boat while playing Gin Rummy that a person can indulge in before a certain sense of monotony sets in. The biggest event of the trip was Kate's decision to take a job back in Boulder. This made being abroad even more difficult, because in reality, all I wanted to do was get back home to my cell phone and talk to her about our plans for finally living in the same city again. When all you can think about is what you're missing back home, it's hard to be away.

And with no segue whatsoever....


Poop. That's all that goes down the drain in Greece. No paper. I'd heard rumors of this astonishing phenomenon in Franco's Spain, but it went the way of his fascism...down the drain, if you'll pardon the pun. Every time I answered the call in Athens or any of the islands we visited, I was reminded that toilets make distinct frowns when you try to recreate what I'll call "The happy housekeeper situation." That is, in Greece, a housekeeper has to empty a trashcan every day, and I can only imagine that this job grows tiresome. I'm no patriot, but at least in the States, all we ask is that they vacuum and dust. There is some good in that, right?

Back to a subject of higher brow. What's good? It's good to be home. It's good to know Kate is coming back to Boulder. It's good to be able to go climbing again. It's good to ween myself off the steady diet of Feta. And it's good to be back to the blog. I'll try not to leave you for such a long time again.