I've been quite ill, which thank God is not usual for me. I suppose it's just a virus but one of the side effects is that I have lost my voice, and I'm staying away from people in case I pass it on to them. I've been busy sorting out my mother's house, which had a LOT of stuff in it, and trying desperately to find room in our house for the numerous things that I can't see myself using but certainly don't want to throw away - at least, not yet.
Like for instance this weighty red tin box of paints, which came from Kashmir at least around 80 years ago or even more.. The note inside them, written in a relative's handwriting, gives complicated instructions for using them, and says they came from Qasim Bros, Dalgate, Srinagar, Kashmir. The bit of gorgeous broken china is used as a mixing palette. Each pot of pigment is in a tightly sealed bottle in its own tightly sealed brass box, and the white pigment I show is like mother of pearl with lots of different shades.
It's just a little bit like one of those items you find in the attic in a children's magic book. I would like to think I would open one of the canisters and a genie might be inside, instead of a bottle of pigment....
Anyway, I wanted to do another post about Greece - about Tsambikos, a Christian-name which you'll hear a lot in Rhodes (or Tsambika for a girl). In the local dialect, the word apparently means "flicker of light" and it refers to a miraculous ikon which was found, surrounded by candles, on a hillside not far from the village of Lindos. This ikon works various miracles, and in particular it can help women who are trying to conceive.
It's now kept for safety in a larger monastery at the bottom of the hill, but in about 1300 a small church was built at the top of the hill and this is where pilgrims (and, in the season, tourists) come to climb 300 steps to the top. (Women who want to conceive have to climb it on their knees.)
As we were early in the season, we had the hillside almost to ourselves. It's fairly hard work climbing the steps, which are widely spaced and very irregular - quite steep at times, too. So after a bit, I was impressed to look behind me and see this family, with three children and granny, making their way up pretty fast and catching us up. (Granny is lagging behind in this photo).
When we reached the top the landscape opened out to the mountains on one side and the sea on the other.
And we finally made it into the courtyard of the little church, which was painted a dazzling white, spotlessly clean, and very peaceful and welcoming.
The dimness inside is welcome after the brightness and heat outside. The ikons shown below are not particularly miraculous, as I understand, but they are beautiful, with their silver glimmering in the shade, and the little lamps burning. .
The family arrived very soon after we did. They settled down in the shade, and took out their picnic. And (sa I said in the last post) they shared it with us, because we didn't have anything. .
Then the mother took her little daughter into the side chapel and she made the signs of the cross with the oil there on the little girl's cheeks, forehead, hands and other parts of her body - the little girl of course didn't want to stay still. You may be able to see the lacy cloth on the table behind where there are votive offering hanging, but perhaps not - the contrast between dark and light was really dazzling.
On grey days here I like to think about how it felt high up on the hill, in that peaceful church, with the cicadas calling and butterflies fluttering around, and the kind Greek family who shared their food with us.
Like for instance this weighty red tin box of paints, which came from Kashmir at least around 80 years ago or even more.. The note inside them, written in a relative's handwriting, gives complicated instructions for using them, and says they came from Qasim Bros, Dalgate, Srinagar, Kashmir. The bit of gorgeous broken china is used as a mixing palette. Each pot of pigment is in a tightly sealed bottle in its own tightly sealed brass box, and the white pigment I show is like mother of pearl with lots of different shades.
It's just a little bit like one of those items you find in the attic in a children's magic book. I would like to think I would open one of the canisters and a genie might be inside, instead of a bottle of pigment....
Anyway, I wanted to do another post about Greece - about Tsambikos, a Christian-name which you'll hear a lot in Rhodes (or Tsambika for a girl). In the local dialect, the word apparently means "flicker of light" and it refers to a miraculous ikon which was found, surrounded by candles, on a hillside not far from the village of Lindos. This ikon works various miracles, and in particular it can help women who are trying to conceive.
It's now kept for safety in a larger monastery at the bottom of the hill, but in about 1300 a small church was built at the top of the hill and this is where pilgrims (and, in the season, tourists) come to climb 300 steps to the top. (Women who want to conceive have to climb it on their knees.)
As we were early in the season, we had the hillside almost to ourselves. It's fairly hard work climbing the steps, which are widely spaced and very irregular - quite steep at times, too. So after a bit, I was impressed to look behind me and see this family, with three children and granny, making their way up pretty fast and catching us up. (Granny is lagging behind in this photo).
When we reached the top the landscape opened out to the mountains on one side and the sea on the other.
And we finally made it into the courtyard of the little church, which was painted a dazzling white, spotlessly clean, and very peaceful and welcoming.
The dimness inside is welcome after the brightness and heat outside. The ikons shown below are not particularly miraculous, as I understand, but they are beautiful, with their silver glimmering in the shade, and the little lamps burning. .
The family arrived very soon after we did. They settled down in the shade, and took out their picnic. And (sa I said in the last post) they shared it with us, because we didn't have anything. .
Then the mother took her little daughter into the side chapel and she made the signs of the cross with the oil there on the little girl's cheeks, forehead, hands and other parts of her body - the little girl of course didn't want to stay still. You may be able to see the lacy cloth on the table behind where there are votive offering hanging, but perhaps not - the contrast between dark and light was really dazzling.
I think the little girl might have been a Tsambika. Maybe they made a pilgrimage every year to say thank you to God for her. I wish I had asked her mother, now. We stayed there for an hour or two. It was such a delightful place to be, and the children had a great time wandering around , playing and exploring.
.On grey days here I like to think about how it felt high up on the hill, in that peaceful church, with the cicadas calling and butterflies fluttering around, and the kind Greek family who shared their food with us.
Keep your mother's stuff and with time, you'll be ready to get rid of it. I speak from experience. I had boxes upon boxes of my mother's treasures in my garage that I kept for many years. I had nowhere to go with them in my own home nor did many of the items fit my taste. Finally after those several years, I was ready. I realized they weren't doing me any good sitting in boxes, so I had a yard sale and got rid of most of it. Yes there are a few pieces that found a home around my own home but the vast majority of it found new homes with other people.
ReplyDeleteHope you get to feeling better soon!
I hope that you are better. Thanks for the lovely pictures! As for your mother's stuff, well, take your time. My grandmother died a year ago and I haven't sold anything just yet. I am not ready yet, I suppose.
ReplyDeleteFunny. I woke up this morning with the idea that it was time to get rid of some of my sister-in-law's things which I have been keeping here for years. And a lot of what I am keeping are paints...believe it or not. Not magical ones, certainly, and I think it is time to let them go.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the beautiful images of Greece. They are soothing to my soul.
What an intriguing picture you paint with words of a special time and a place. I am glad your writer’s voice is not lost. :)
ReplyDeleteWhat treasures you've shared with us today. That pigment set is priceless, and the Tsambika story is amazing. 300 steps on the knees up those stairs? Determined women.
ReplyDeleteI enjoy so much these great posts and photos!Hope you are feeling better and a big thank you!
ReplyDeleteAs so many others say - take your time, and you will know when the right time comes to let things go.
ReplyDeleteGet well soon.
Jenny, your 4th photo reminded me the days spent in Greece. I felt cool air in the shade of a tree in the church yard!
ReplyDeleteWhat to do with mum's treasures... I would prefer to left them in any corner or in attic or in a big box until you want to see them again.
Nice photos!
What a sweet and beautiful post - I think you are also doing the right thing, making major decisions about what to keep/let go over time. It takes time. Best of luck and feel better soon.
ReplyDeleteWell it's not a grey day here in the UK today, it's beautiful and sunny. I'm sorry you've been unwell. I hope you feel better very soon. It must be hard having to find a home for all your mum's things but I can understand how hard it must be to get rid of them too.
ReplyDeletePrayers you are feeling better
ReplyDeleteThank you for the wonderful photos and narrative
The view from the top is very moving.
Such a good tour that I was huffing and puffing by the time you reached the top. Great view, and well worth the visit.
ReplyDeleteNot sure about the Kashmir paint mind.
I'm glad you found comfort in Greece - and do hope you are soon feeling better. If seems that everything has conspired to dollop on you this year. Look after yourself - and slowly the world will reshape itself.
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like a soothing place and a serene moment.
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely memory to relive when you are sick! Keep your mother's things until you feel it is time to bless someone else with them, if that day comes. For a few things, it won't, for many others, it will.
ReplyDeleteI hope you are feeling better every day, Jenny. I, too, have been ill and unfortunately, unable to do much that is active so I envy your productivity.
ReplyDeleteAnd you are wise about not tossing things too quickly. I was much younger when my mother died and I still wish I had some of the things I had let go because there just wasn't enough room.
The trip to Greece sounds just wonderful. It's not a spot I've traveled, but when I see your photos and hear your stories, it makes me wonder what all I've missed.
I hiked trails like that--when I was far younger. What a reward at the end.
ReplyDeleteI'm always amazed that people build churches and monasteries and what have you in such difficult locations. They must be very determined and very resourceful. But then didn't they believe that the higher up you were, the closer to God you were?
ReplyDeleteNot sure if that comment went through - there wasn't any acknowledgement.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure there will be items that are just so special, and so unique you shall never part with them. After all what is a bit of space.
ReplyDeleteThank you for taking us the 300 steps, it was a beautiful walk with lovely vistas and quite spiritual. I saw a glimpse of the pebble mosaics on the floors which are also amazing works of art.
I hope your voice returns soon, and that you are feeling much better Jenny
x
So sorry you've been ill, Jenny! What a disappointment after being in such a wonderful place. I can also imagine the dilemma over all your mum's things. You want to keep so much, but where?
ReplyDeleteDear Jenny, I do hope you find yourself feeling better soon. I have not had the chance to visit Greece, but have enjoyed photographs of family and friends. I am always taken aback by the contrast of the white structures and the blue waters. Breathtaking! Bonnie
ReplyDeleteI agree with "Mama has spoken", keep those things until you're certain you're ready to part with them. I too speak from experience.
ReplyDeleteThose Greek pictures are lovely, I'd love being up high in those hills too, especially with a lovely family who shared their picnic.
Hope you;re feeling better now. Take it easy!
I hope you feel better soon!
ReplyDeleteThe picture you took of the top certainly shows that it was worth the hike up the mountain.
Many of us know how hard it is to go through a loved ones collection of memories. It is so hard to figure out what to keep. We kept most for a year and then revisited them. It was easier then to make decisions.
ReplyDeleteI remember a very pleasant day years ago when I sat on a beach in Lindos. We had decided to do that instead of what our friend did who climbed all those stairs up to the church. Gee, I hadn't thought of that in a long time. Thanks for bringing back that memory to me.
I hope you are feeling better soon.
I'm sorry that you've been ill...do you think losing your mother might be a factor?
ReplyDeleteGhat box of paints was a gem...and the genie opened the rest of your post about the Tsambikos. Beautiful photographs and a lovely story.
I hope you recover soon - but I think being ill was Nature's way of giving you some precious time to sort through your Mother's things. I love the box of old paints.
ReplyDeleteThe photos are all wonderful, especially the spectacular view at the top. I suppose the most miraculous thing about the icons is the tedious hike that it takes to get to the church!
I sure hope you're feeling better soon, and get your voice back quickly! It seems to be going around! I know going over your mother's things is still filled with pain, but one must remember the good times, and all those wonderful memories! My mother left us in 2008 and we still have a truck filled with things that I just haven't been able to part with yet. It sure was great to see your post!
ReplyDeleteIt's such memories of places and times where and when we were completely at peace that keep us going, isn't it, Jenny!
ReplyDeleteAs for the paint box - yes, it sounds just like something out of a children's book. I like to imagine that at first, nothing happens when you open the paints. But when you start mixing them, you already can feel what you wish to paint. And then you paint it, a landscape or a house, and it shines and looks almost three-dimensional to you... and then you suddenly find you can step right into the picture and discover a hidden world in there.
What a lovely post. I can feel the coolness in the shady Church ( on was Rhodes last summer in 40 degrees ! )
ReplyDeleteDelightful family sharing their food with you.
Hope you feel better soon & I loved the little paintbox.
Wow, what fabulous generosity to share their food with you. I bet she was one of the little miracles - isn't it strange how we get caught up in the moment on holidays and don't ask questions??
ReplyDeleteI don't think I would want to let that box of paints go either. It looks quite exquisite.
A nice story Jenny. It seemed like a very pleasant place to be for you - Dave
ReplyDelete"And they shared it with us because we didn't have anything"...oh Jenny, what a beautiful post! Beautiful words with gorgeous photos. I think all of this, your thoughts and pictures, are a precious gift. I thank YOU for sharing it.
ReplyDelete"Colors" by Victoria Finlay...this book came to mind when you were talking about the paint boxes. Have your read it? It's fascinating!
You describe such a lovely day. I like the icons even if they aren't particularly miraculous. Sorting through things left by your Mom and finding paint box treasures can be a special time but also hard. Perhaps the stress of that has contributed to your illness. Feel better soon!
ReplyDeleteDarla
A wonderful post, and a lovely experience for all of you. Definitely worth walking up 300 steps. Photos are fantastic!
ReplyDeleteOMG! The paint pigments are a treasure!!! Keep them, for sure!!
ReplyDeleteIt is nice to see more pictures relating to your last story. It looks so beautiful there. :)
I'm sorry to hear you've been unwell, and I know from experience that house clearing after a death can be stressful. Your post and pictures are beautiful. I'm glad you find some respite in sharing your adventures here and I do hope you'll feel better quickly.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry to hear about your recent sickness, and graceful to read your fantastic story in Greece out of your health condition.
ReplyDeleteThe scenes are convincing that they are unforgettable...
Hi Jenny!
ReplyDeleteI love that word, "tzambika" flicker of light. That image - and word - will stay with me. And I enjoyed this vicarious Greek trip up top, viewed from your camera.
Sifting through your mother's treasures must have been bittersweet. It really does release a genie of memories. I remember going through my mother's closets, with my 2 sisters. Every piece of clothing, jewelry, souvenir trinket, etc. just carried so many vivid memories. We stopped and reminisced with every one. We couldn't get rid of a tattered duster she used to wear in the mornings for decades. It was just so ... Mom. But it was also interesting to find things she had stashed away that were ours. I had things from college I'd already forgotten about, but it was neatly packed away in her closet. I think I understand my mother now much more than when she was alive.
Take care of yourself. I hope you feel better.
- Jenny
the beauty of those icons is a little miracle of itself. a "flicker of light" in the cool dimness. such a peaceful day!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for your visit, Jenny. As a matter of fact I've got a bunch of travels scheduled this year too. I'm sorry you're having to battle an illness.
ReplyDeletewhat a rather fascinating treasure box....i would def be intrigued as well to read the instructions by the relative...
ReplyDeleteand what a beautiful view as well...might be enough to make up for the steps..ha....i hope you are feeling better soon
Valuable stuff is always a problem.
ReplyDeleteBlessings in all shapes and places.
Hope you are feeling better Jenny and have refound your voice.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful treasure the paintbox is and I wonder who lovingly mixed them all those years ago.
Thanks for taking me on your travels again - Greece looks beautiful - a place to visit in the future maybe.
Anna :o]
Hi Jenny,
ReplyDeleteI hope you should be all right by now. I think I know how you feel about dealing with your mother's things. I have the same trouble in sorting out my parents things including their house.
I've not been active in blogging with one thing and another but managed to catch up with posts I've had missed. Rhodes seems beautiful and interesting place to visit. Local guides might be a great help to explore interesting places otherwise you'd have missed or customize your itinerary. Sharing local food to strangers is a very friendly and welcoming gesture of them, making travelers feel at home. I wish I could visit it someday.
Thank you for your comments on my post about Naoshima Island. I'm surprised to know your daughter once tried to visit it. I hear Naoshima Island is a kind of good-unknown destination for some people from European countries. Actually my daughter is working for Bennesse Holding Co., one of whose projects has conducted and promoted art activities there and made arrangement about accommodation for us.