Saturday, November 7/2026

Photo is from two years ago. And a poignant reminder of the happy lives that goats can be living. Taken about a kilometre east of us. 

When we first moved into the flat three years ago we were delighted to hear the sounds of a goat - or two? - in the orchard across the road. 

Never did actually see the goat, who resided in a small shed, and occasionally wondered if it had been the pièce de résistance at some feast. (And have to confess, as a non-vegetarian, that we have eaten goat and it was very nice). But each time the bleats would come back and we would heave a sigh of relief.

So this year when we arrived two weeks ago we were not at all surprised not to be greeted initially with the meh-eh-eh of a goat. But days have passed and still no goat sounds. Also, J notes that the orchard people have not been gathering weeds and brush such as goats eat - along with anything else they can find.

Therefore can only conclude that the goat has stopped providing milk - if it ever did - and has met a fate possibly connected to the traditional beehive shaped stone oven near its shed.

 

Friday, November 6/2026

L’il Abner comic strip ran from 1934 to 1977. One of the characters was the ever unlucky Joe Btfsplk, usually shown with a dark rain cloud over his head, dripping rain that never seemed to touch anyone else.

Comes to mind this morning when the sky above the mountain on our south side is bright and the sky above the sea on our north side is light while rain beats down on our place as if it came from Joe Btfsplk’s cloud.

Rain stops, then starts up again on the terrace in bright sunlight. Check the radar. Radar shows no rain closer than the shores of Türkiye but projects showers and possible thunderstorms in the afternoon.

Dismiss radar and head down to Blue Song regardless. Shirtsleeve temperatures, for what that’s worth. And no rain at all in the afternoon.

 

Thursday, November 4/2026

 Forecast uncertain. Suggestion is mostly sun and cloud with a possible shower, and that is more or less what happens. Love the skies here. You can see for miles to the west and north across the Mediterranean the shore of Türkiye can be seen on a clear day. A tall cypress tree (visible about a third of the way across the photo from the from the left) serves as a wind vane, bending east or west as the wind changes. You can also follow the movement of the clouds, but that can be confusing because, as J points out, the higher clouds are not always moving in the same direction as the lower ones.

The wind has also been busy harvesting oranges. We now have over two dozen in the fridge, almost all of them wind picked. Grapes and bananas with the morning sheep’s yoghurt are imports, but the oranges are always local, and at the moment ours. The grape season in Cyprus is over before we arrive, but the banana imports (Ecuador) are more surprising. Small, slightly sweet bananas do grow in Cyprus, though more in the South, and also in Türkiye. It’s a bit early for them now, but don’t remember seeing them here in the winter either. 

Actually not much food crosses the Cypriot North/South border, certainly not in commercial quantities. Well, not legally that is. However, the day before yesterday a vehicle entering the TRNC from the South was found to be carrying 142 kilos of undeclared meat - beef stashed in six refuse sacks. Market value was estimated at 142000 Turkish lira ($4057 CAD, £2119). Seems fairly expensive - think $13 Canadian a pound - but no info on cut or quality and beef is prohibitively expensive here. 

Taken pretty seriously by the law. The person arrested was released on bail, forbidden to leave the country, and required to report weekly to a police station. Also had to deposit a cash bond of TL 50,000 ($1428 CAD, £746). And provide a guarantor who would provide surety for a million Turkish lira (slightly less breathtaking than it sounds, at $28,571 CAD or £14,925). Seems he - or of course she - (no reason a woman couldn’t be hauling 300 pounds of raw meat) was lucky enough to have a friend or relative willing to ante up if necessary.

Wednesday, November 4/2026

 

We’re probably the only people at the local grocery store - ok, supermarket, but that’s almost overstating it - who care about getting the itemised receipt with our purchases. And it really isn’t to check for accuracy - it’s normally accurate. It’s to learn the Turkish names for what we buy. Sometimes they’re similar to the English, and occasionally to the Polish but often resemble nothing we’re familiar with.

So, home with a heavy (estimate two pounds by comparing to an 850 gram container of yoghurt but will really have to acquire a kitchen scale for the Cyprus home) kohlrabi. By process of elimination, conclude it’s the item called glumra on the receipt. (Predictive text wanted me to write “glumly” and in this case can see its problem). But repair to Google Translate and enter glumra. No joy. No translation available. AI, at Google’s behest, somewhat more forthcoming. “The term “glumra” likely refers to kouloumbra (κουλούμρα),the Cypriot name for kohlrabi…Because kohlrabi is a highly popular staple in Cyprus, locals and visitors often phoneticize the Greek Cypriot name as kouloumbra, kouroumba, or colloquially glumra”. Pleased enough at the explanation that I forgive AI for using likely as an adverb.

Price 50 lira ($1.43 CAD, £0.74)

Tuesday, November 3/2026

J gives a vicious trimming to the Cape Honeysuckle in the interest of allowing the orange tree more breathing space and access to sunlight and water. Seems a shame as the honeysuckle flowers cheerfully regardless of weather. Does give us a pretty little bouquet for the top of the bookcase though.

And the sad pile of honeysuckle trimmings are next to an orange tree that will now get more light and water.

The honeysuckle will thrive come rain or drought. It’s a survivor like the buddleia but much more loveable.

Take the dolmuş down to Telsim to resurrect our Turkish sim. It isn’t actually dead, fortunately. Only on life support for the Canadian half of the year. We paid a nominal amount - well, think it was nominal - either that or have forgotten the indignation at the amount- in order to maintain the account for six months while not using it. Reviving it requires that I produce my passport - duly photographed - and sign with stylus a signature to be filed electronically with the passport scan. This is a significantly lesser procedure than opening a new account, which included my providing names of both my mother and my father as well as photographic proof of legal status in the country. Did at that time tell the young lady (truthfully) that the paperwork involved exceeded that required from us when applying for visas to enter the old Soviet Union in 1991. 

And the passport? Legally required to be carried at all times - or proof of citizenship for local residents. Not as unusual as it may feel to North Americans. Required in many countries - think France, Germany, Italy, Japan and endless etceteras.

Fairly long wait for return dolmuş, but a reward at the end. The bottle of Moldovan red wine bought at Ileli on spec for 120 lira ($3.43 CAD, £1.79) turns out to be a perfectly drinkable house wine.

Monday, November 2/2026

 

Hadn’t thought the oranges on our tree were quite ready to be picked - and in fact some of them are still on the green side - but the wind had other thoughts and some have landed on our terrace. Not seedless, but nice flavour.

As in last year, the next door neighbour’s orange tree looks much more attractive. Bigger, taller, and with far more plump, bright oranges. Don’t know about the grass being greener on the other side of the fence, but the oranges definitely are oranger. Suspect neighbours of cheating by watering them in the summer, which we can’t do. But still delighted that we have an orange tree.

Sunday, November 1/2026

 Nip down to the little supermarket for a couple of basics and hit it lucky. Simits warm out of the oven. Love simits (first encountered in South Cyprus where they’re called koulouri). Sesame studded and best straight from the oven. Turkish schoolboy slang uses simit as a euphemism for zero, as in “Terrible test - got a simit”.

Not easy taking a photo of one before someone has had a bite.

Produce section looking like there’s been a recent delivery. No idea what the schedule is - nothing we’ve been able to predict. Note a couple of ginormous pumpkins cum squash. Have seen large squash here before but they’re enormous were long and yellow, a little like very overgrown butternut squash without the rounded bit and the shop clearly cut off chunks of a kilo or so for those who didn’t run a restaurant. Wouldn’t be so easy with these, and it isn’t Hallowe’en territory.

J takes advantage of a dry spell to wash the last of the windows, this one in the salon. Overlooks the neighbour’s orchard and then - a kilometre or so farther downhill - the sea.

Saturday,, October 31/2026

 J washes the windows  - floor to ceiling sliding doors in every room - which may or may not be a  contributing factor to heavy showers in the afternoon. Good for the orange tree anyway.

Last day of October, heading into the dark half of the year. At least that’s how the ancient Celts saw it when they celebrated it as Samhain (pronunciation varies depending on what branch of Gaelic you favour, but at the very least ignore the three middle letters in the word). The eve of darkness, accompanied by bonfires and people going door to door wearing disguises and asking for food goes back centuries in Scotland and Ireland. Eventually the Church attempted to depaganise the celebrations by declaring November 1st All Saints Day, making October 31 All Hallows Eve, or Hallowe’en. Eventually brought to North America by Scots and Irish settlers. Whose descendants should be grateful that what is carved now is a pumpkin and not an unyielding turnip, as it was originally.

Not really observed in this part of the world.