Stocking Up And Taking Stock

From a 737 crossing the Pacific, Sennen wanted to play an archery game. We took turns shooting targets via our devices and chatted on iMessage. Meanwhile Ailyn texted me the breakfast sandwich on Hawaiian Airlines ranked somewhere between the food quality on Turkish and Singapore – a very high ranking. The miracle of being able to fly at all – let alone move across the globe in hours instead of weeks and months – is almost eclipsed by the fact we can communicate from the air to ground anywhere in the world.

I imagine telling my Grandpa about how I was texting both kids, playing games in real-time while I sat on a sofa on a Greek island and they were halfway between Los Angeles and Kauai. He struggled to understand the Internet, though he found technological advancement amazing and never seemed to shun or deride it. It always seemed in his estimation new technology was progress – and that was good. Whether or not he fully understood exactly where it was taking us, he had faith it was probably somewhere better.

Sennen and Ailyn certainly felt they were going somewhere better. It's their first trip to Hawaii and traveling somewhere by plane with their mom. They're looking forward to an exciting week away in tropical paradise.

Meanwhile, on a very different island, Michelle and I are doing what most Jews outside Israel are doing today – stocking up for Christmas closures. At home, if you're comfortable waiting for your order, you can always order Chinese. Here we can't count on ANYTHING being open – not even the cafes. Also, Christmas begins the evening of the 24th and for most people runs through the 26th. So we need to prepare for four nights and three days of being self-sufficient. 

Accordingly during the "morning pocket" of business hours – aka 10am to 1pm – Michelle and I did the errands circuit: produce truck, two bakeries, butcher and supermarket. We're now prepared, including having chestnuts to roast, a lot of frozen spanakopita (that's me) and an extra bag of Whiskas for the cats (that's Michelle). Everyone should be just fine until gyros are available again on Friday.

One of my favorite things to do in any country – especially on a first visit – is to go to a grocery store. You can learn so much about a culture from their supermarkets – plus there are often intriguing new food concepts. This is from my first visit to the supermarket in Patmos. Almost nothing has changed about it since August 2010, but there's always more to learn.

For example, shopping the day before Christmas tells you a lot about what Patmian Christmas meals involve. Most notably olive oil and meat. There were giant holes on the shelves of every brand of olive oil that cost less than 12 euros per bottle and the big five liter canisters were sparse. With the exception of chicken nuggets, there wasn't a scrap left in the meat case. Luckily, we bought our meat at the butcher shop which was also busy and had a number of prepared holiday specialties, some of which I bought not knowing exactly what they were. There's only one way to find out without finding someone who can translate…

The Alpha Beta supermarket still a nice selection of produce remaining, but the produce truck at the front of town – which sells local, farm fresh options had little left when we got to it. The end caps had baking supplies – more than I have ever seen. People were busy grabbing spices of all kinds. Clearly we weren't the only people preparing to support their cats through the holidays – we grabbed one of the last bags of cat food in the entire store. I also noticed the normally robust frozen octopus section was much thinner than usual, although the squid supply seemed to supplement. And of course there were displays of chocolates and Christmas themed gift baskets.

What am I to conclude? Perhaps in most ways Greeks, or at least Patmians, are not unlike Americans at Christmas except they lean more olive oil than Crisco and perhaps make more use of invertebrates. I also had it reenforced that independent produce vendors and butchers are the way to go anytime you can.

Last year the kids and I stocked up just for the 25th. We had Christmas Eve reservations at a nice restaurant and then enjoyed delicacies from the local charcuterie in the comfort of our Cannes apartment. Sennen especially loved the duck ravioli and we all enjoyed trying six kinds of cheese from the fromagerie. We took an afternoon walk through a very quiet Cannes. It was a very pleasant, relaxed day off from our otherwise busy adventure.

This year the three-day Christmas shut-down may well be the heart of the trip. Not that life on Patmos hasn't already been a big slow-down, but I've been looking forward to the days when everyone goes quiet and I can truly let go – no work, no calls, no unexpected issues. For three days I want the world to come down to yoga, reading, writing, eating, sleeping and watching. Maybe a walk to the beach for sunset – but I'm making no commitments. Then maybe a day or two of the same at New Year's. Unlike last year at Notre Dame, there should be no fireworks, no big hoopla. It sounds perfect.

The divorce became final in May – after almost two years of negotiations, letters, proceedings and processes. Having all that behind us is good for everyone. I realized I had been living with the stress of it all for so long, my mind and forgot what it was like before. And of course I've spend two years figuring out what life is post-marriage. Nothing about it has been easy. I think it took until October for my limbic system to catch up with the new reality and reduce the adrenaline and cortisol I had been living on. One day in October I had my first yoga class in I can't remember how long where I felt fully present and not processing whatever was weighing on me that day. Although I'm grateful for how yoga has been there for me both when I was able to fully show up, and when I wasn't. It may very well have kept me alive.

Not that life is simple and all figured out, but maybe some bad stuff is done and I can let it go. After the giant adrenaline wave of the past couple of years, it makes sense there would be a corresponding adrenaline crash. This winter break on a quiet island  - my quiet island – seems like a great way to recharge. My Christmas present from Christmas itself is this quiet time to recover, breathe and refresh. 

Maybe that requires cheese pie and marrons glacé – and maybe it doesn't. But it's likely to include them either way.

Namaste and Kalá Christoúgenna