a piece of cake?
1. Somebody gave me some cake. (Here in Crete, we call it cheik.) It was excellent.
2. I walked into class, and my students were suddenly interested in the buka (they’ll do anything to postpone the lesson, but I was also wearing an adorably cute maternity blouse that just begged everyone all day long to say “oh how cute” and ask me about the buka). Somebody asked if she has a name. I explained that there is basically a naming war being waged at home, with me insisting on Louloudίa, and the retaliation being Aphroxylanthi. “That’s Greek!” one of the girls exclaimed. And the girl sitting next to her said, “Well, what did you think Louloudίa was?” And some guy in the back says, very politely, “Excuse me, miss. Are you pregnant?!”
(I found a blog called Name That Baby, but it hasn’t helped my case so much.)
3. There’s a verbal agreement on the house, pending the engineers’ surveys and some other matters that are out of my hands. I’ve been on the phone with my mutual fund broker in the states. And suddenly I’m sentimental about the apartment, the one I’ve loved and hated for so many years -- my comms corner where my cell phone gets good reception (and many nice calls), the funny new door, the Russians, Panayiotis, and the three babycats I presume to be his progeny. There are always things you miss. And things you look forward to. As Steph says, it’s time.
2. I walked into class, and my students were suddenly interested in the buka (they’ll do anything to postpone the lesson, but I was also wearing an adorably cute maternity blouse that just begged everyone all day long to say “oh how cute” and ask me about the buka). Somebody asked if she has a name. I explained that there is basically a naming war being waged at home, with me insisting on Louloudίa, and the retaliation being Aphroxylanthi. “That’s Greek!” one of the girls exclaimed. And the girl sitting next to her said, “Well, what did you think Louloudίa was?” And some guy in the back says, very politely, “Excuse me, miss. Are you pregnant?!”
(I found a blog called Name That Baby, but it hasn’t helped my case so much.)
3. There’s a verbal agreement on the house, pending the engineers’ surveys and some other matters that are out of my hands. I’ve been on the phone with my mutual fund broker in the states. And suddenly I’m sentimental about the apartment, the one I’ve loved and hated for so many years -- my comms corner where my cell phone gets good reception (and many nice calls), the funny new door, the Russians, Panayiotis, and the three babycats I presume to be his progeny. There are always things you miss. And things you look forward to. As Steph says, it’s time.
posted by soap at
11:55 AM
7 Comments:
Excuse me, Miss, are you pregnant? ;-)
We're still negotiating a move, and I know what you mean about feeling your roots pulling when thinking about leaving the old place.
So, any side effects from the cake yet?
PS. P calls it "Keh!". I guess if he was from Crete he'd be calling it Che! A revolutionary at heart...
There are times when I really want to duh my students(!), but I usually leave it to them to duh each other, which they do, with all the aplomb they should probably be applying to their English, or even their Greek, depending on how revolutionary they like their cake.
Speaking of cake. Worst side effect so far: desire for more cake. (But don't you dare.)
I vote for Louloudίa. You could nickname her Loo Loo. Enjoy your pregnancy.
Sara
babyowls.blogspot.com
Or just Lu.
Yeeeeeeeeeey!!!!
:)
(But don't be too excited. We're in a war zone, remember? I suspect there will be lots of casualties before it's all said and done -- and the baby safely named Maria...)
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home