Holus Bolus in Athens
No Greek food or balaika music. No mustachioed men with cummberbunds dancing and stealing our hankerchiefs.
There was food—looked wonderful.
There was music…..45’s.
There was singing (to the music)
And there was sewing.
And we played with Sharpies and alcohol–I had to fill the little bottles outside as I tended to spill a bit—or sometimes kind of a lot.
And there was even more sewing and a lot of laughing.
And there were a few walks monitored by Fit Bit
And then the ghosts tapping on my door all night long—-figured out it was this! Disappointing but makes for a good story.
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