After a very, very long and tiring flight from the West Coast back to Greece, I was sick for several days, but I recovered just in time for us to move all our stuff from Thessaloniki to Portaria. While we were away, they had finished several projects in the new house, including some new ceilings and floors.
With the help of some friends in Thessaloniki, we were able to pack up all our stuff and get it on a moving truck relatively easily. Getting it into the new house was more of an adventure, since a moving truck can't get anywhere near our house, which is back on narrow cobblestone paths. So the truck parked at a central point in Portaria, and they off-loaded it into a small pick-up truck, which then took it within about 100 yards of the house. Then a crew of guys carried it into the house.
One of the first orders of business was to set up the kids' new bunk beds. Their room has a little crawl space for storage, but we decided to make it a reading loft. Above, you can see them climbing up into their loft from one of the bunk beds.
We arrived just two days before the parish's feast day on November 1 (Holy Unmercenaries), so it was busy time, but we had a good turnout for the feast day, despite the fact that it was a weekday, and we kept plugging away at unpacking boxes and getting the house set up. The following Monday, the kids started pre-school, which we had arranged before we left for the US. On the Saturday before school started, the kids and I took a walk down the winding labyrinth of cobblestone paths to try to find their school, which is located in the village right below us. We found our way and it turns out to be only about a 15-minute walk downhill. On the way back, the kids and I decided to explore a little and we veered a bit off track. But we found this shade-covered spring that reminded me exactly of what one would see on Mt. Athos. In fact, then, posted on the spring was an icon of the Panagia protecting Mt. Athos, as well as a hand-written sign that read: "Drink of this all of you. This is running water," in the archaic Greek of the New Testament. The climb back uphill was much tougher, so we all stopped for a much-needed drink.
Eventually, a kind old lady saw us coming and came out with a chocolate bar for the kids. She pointed us in the right direction. A little later, I asked an elderly gentleman for directions, and he said, "Fr. Gregory, is that you?" It turned out he was the father of another priest in a nearby village. We stopped and had a snack with him and chatted for awhile. He explained where we were, which was still in the lower village of Katohori, but close to the "border" with Portaria and our parish.
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