Like anyone who survives a storm, you learn the tips and tricks to be better prepared in the future. Thus, when the kids were given not two, but six commercial-sized bags of wild oregano to bring home and scoop into small, clear bags for resale we knew better what to do. I laid out plastic bags all over the patio table and encouraged taking smaller scoops that were less likely to spill-over. They also knew how to cooperate to form a reasonably efficient operation – one holding a resale bag while the other scooped. After a little bit, it became patently clear Ailyn should be the scooper and Sennen the holder, thereby minimizing the mess that had begun to accumulate on the ground.
After making sure they each had a cold drink to combat the rising heat of the day, I took my leave to attend the remaining house chores and writing on my agenda. Which lasted only minutes. At first I was interrupted by Kostas the new property manager who stopped by to ask some questions about the property and see if he could make the weed whacker in my yard work. He plans to trim the lawn himself to save money. Hallelujah to being free of Michaelis, the gardener I pay who doesn't come. Kostas want to get the yard in order for the upcoming spate of reservations and then has someone will will do the monthly maintenance for 20 percent less than Michaelis. A giant win.
So I couldn't really be annoyed at Kostas' drop-by.
Then came the real storm. Whether it was the heat or their moods perhaps affected by the heat or the trauma of the last oregano scooping – or that Alessandro had started them off with three bags of oregano and came over with three more, I'm not sure – but their moods degraded quickly. Sennen suddenly wanted to quit his job on the spot. Ailyn was overwhelmed, crying and flushed. We had a challenging session in the living room in which I explained commitments, the importance of overcoming challenges and hydration. I'm always reminding her she needs to drink more. I had hoped hearing their complaints in an air conditioned room, reminding them of what's important, filling their glasses with more cold beverages would get everyone back on track.
It did not.
After a few more minutes of work on the porch, Sennen was crying and disregulated, I was losing my patience with his emotionality, Ailyn was frustrated and when she went to bring a box of completed bags over to their bosses, she accidentally knocked Sennen's glass off the table – sending it shattering on the ground. That seemed to push things over the edge for Ailyn. I sent her inside to cool off emotionally and physically while I swept up oregano and shattered glass and pondered how I wanted to handle the situation. Was the task too much for a ten and twelve-year-old? Was this a lesson in overcoming challenges that required tough love? Was something else going on with these kids – particularly Sennen – that I hadn't yet seen and understood? Why were some bags of oregano causing all hell to break loose?
I decided my confusion could be a lesson for all of us – and maybe a way out. Life all about narratives – figuring out which is the "right" story. I had several options in front of me – being accommodating, holding firm, intervening with their bosses, looking for underlying issues that may or may not exist – what I did all depended on what I could surmise to be the "real" story. And that was still unclear to me.
When I was done cleaning the patio, we sat down in the living room and I explained my confusion, the possible options on my mind and how I just didn't know what the story was in this situation. I figured it was honest and maybe it would allow them to adopt another perspective. It worked – they were able to calmly articulate that it felt like a big task that was going to take so long they wouldn't get to enjoy any beach time. and that they really hate the work dealing with herbs. I explained the beginning jobs are usually the not-so-fun stuff and that's what makes them beginning-level jobs. But if they take on the responsibility well, then they earn their employers' trust and in future summers are likely to be entrusted with higher-level tasks. It also makes sense for Eirini and Alessandro to decide their time is better spent on things only they can handle and that scooping oregano and sticking rosemary are tasks better given to the neighbor kids. Sennen and Ailyn could understand that.
They eventually offered the solution of talking to their bosses about diving the task into two days' work – which seemed reasonable given they didn't do six bags in a day last time – and their bosses accepted the solution without issue. From there, the mood got better and I felt good that they didn't abandon their commitment and learned to talk to their employers – a skill we all have to learn at some point.
Eventually, we decided to have their Coach Thanasis workout early and go to the beach afterwards so they could have more uninterrupted hours. As a result, I ended up working at the cafe at Agriolivadi and the kids swam and played in the sand until sunset. All was well again.
This morning, the kids got up a little earlier than usual, went outside to complete their work which was already waiting for them on the porch, did it quickly and efficiently without complaint and we were able to get up and out earlier than usual. I asked them why today went so easily when yesterday was such a disaster. Sennen and Ailyn looked at each other and said they had no idea. Whatever spell they were under yesterday had broken as inexplicably as it came.
The table and patio still needed a thorough spraying down to get rid of all the oregano and I imagine the lawn will smell pleasantly aromatic when Kostas comes to trim it.
With three days including today, we had to map out our beach-going. The time for deciding on "lasts" has come. Initially, the kids wanted to go to baby-wave-yielding Lampi but upon further reflection, they decided a last day in Pleiades' swimming pool with its tremendous view sounded best. Lampi hit the cutting room floor. Tomorrow we'll go to Petra followed by their final session with Coach Thanasis and Thursday they want to finish the summer with a day at Agriolivadi. It's locked in – I even reserved the beach chairs.
Tonight we'll have possibly our last barbecue of the summer and celebrate how we've perfected heating our coals – a giant improvement over last year. Step by step step we've learned to master more things that were once mysteries or challenges on Patmos from replacing a broken table to maintaining the yard to getting and managing short-term rental bookings. Things I wanted to have figured out two summers ago have fallen into place – eventually.
Even our neighbor Christos' reticence about changing the yard from grass to Mediterranean dryscape resolved after Mohammad spoke with him and explained in further detail what the plan was and how things would look – as all as all the benefits. It's highly likely my sharing the term Mediterranean dryscape translated into Greek wasn't enough for Christos to grasp exactly what I meant. Being a very practical man, it sounds like he now understands the new landscape will be attractive and has many benefits – highlighted by not having a patchy, overgrown lawn most of the year.
"Sometimes, Patmos feels like Springfield," I told the kids two days ago referring the fictional hometown/world of The Simpsons. Much like Springfield is a closed world with a large cast of regular characters you see repeatedly over the years, so is Patmos. Just like characters of Springfield, you so often find the people of Patmos doing what you would expect them to do, reacting how you would imagine. When we walk or drive around, we see Mohammad the contractor exiting a building being renovated, George the luxury property manager driving in his Jeep Wrangler to one of his premium properties at Sapsilla, Alessandro sitting outside his shop in bright, stylish clothing smoking a Cuban cigar, Stelios riding his bike home at 1pm and back to his gelateria at 5pm, Nicholas driving slowly from his apartment hotel in Netia into the center of Skala slowing down every 20 feet to yell "Ela!" to someone he knows and have a brief exchange as he passes.
We don't know everything, but we know a lot more than two years ago. There's a rhythm of life here of which we're more a part.
These weeks together also allow us to be in more touch with ourselves too. We communicate better. We try to show each other grace. We figure out how to deal with nasty spells and weather the occasional oregano storm.
