Homo ludens, home again

Out of the corner of my eye I apprehended, the other day, that Tassos is back in Porto Rafti, after another of his grueling estivations on Paros. "There," I noticed myself sighing, "went the neighborhood." I was put in mind of the lads in Ondaatje's The Cat's Table, who amuse themselves by miming the gestures of a romantic shipboard character, whom they cannot resist teasing for his lack of inhibition. 

We were laughing and laughing at all the poses he struck. But suddenly the three of us ran away from him. We screamed as we raced through the women's badminton semi-finals, and leapt cannonballing, with all our clothes on, into the swimming pool. We even got out and dragged a few deck chairs back in with us .. we released all the breath from our bodies and sank to the bottom and stood there waving our arms softly like Mr Daniels' palm trees, wishing he could see us.

Proof that it is Tassos' blog, by which this one only waves to be seen, is scattered throughout his comments box for the last several years, and can be traced to our launching in one of his extended absences. Ondaatje's proof, also, that an admirer can master the morality but not the disposition of an inspiring figure, is not lacking, here or there. But our lyricist of the lazy morning is also, thank goodness, among its more diligent practitioners, or many of us would not have a page to flap our limbs in mimicry.

It was only too humiliating, then, for him to pre-empt a suitable celebration of this annual resumption of his page, with a remark here first, the other day, echoing a beloved image from Lorca to twist the blade ~ el niño come naranjas. I know of no one who can write of oranges while Tassos is at home. 

Having been late to acknowledge that this rootstock blog of many upstart vines has been restored, I'll not be among those who could speculate where it might lead. Gone are the words to mark the occasion; Homer's given us the return of Odysseus and the coffee is still hot. Here's a dram of agiorgitiko for a playful morning mug, and much anticipation of a season of high spirits. Already, the most quicksilver smile in blogging has resumed its signature pace, and we are repatriated to the tannic bite of reading.