Many a summer barbecue this year has been scuppered because of this wet and miserable July. Not many people are even as bold as to tempt fate by saying the word ‘barbecue’ out loud in July.
Not so for YiaYia. Having invited everyone over for lunch this weekend, a little bit of rain was not going to stop her from putting on her usual Greek feast. So, at 10am on Saturday morning, YiaYia stood in the garden with her umbrella and barbecued 36 individual pieces of meat. For 7 of us.
In addition to the 36 pieces of meat, were
36 7 bottles of wine. For 7 of us.
The guest of honour for this particular family gathering was
Zachy Uncle George.
Uncle George is a very old friend of the Pylas family. He has lived on the same street as YiaYia and Papou for over 40 years and his mother-in-law even introduced YiaYia and Papou to each other! Their children grew up together and Uncle George’s son, Philip, is godfather to Zachy.
So, you could say they are pretty tight.
As it was decided quite early on that I would be the designated driver, I waved away the champagne and stuck to bubbles of the San Pellegrino kind instead. This also meant I would have both hands free to get a proper fix of the Griwi twins.
They are such good little boys, not a peep out of them all day long. They had a little chillax on the floor for a bit and posed for a few photos for Zachy, who is quite the budding photographer, don’t you think?
Here is a photo that my husband and Griwi Daddy posed for on
their honeymoon Saturday afternoon after a few bottles glasses of vino.
It was a wonderful afternoon, despite the weather. YiaYia kept Zachy entertained with plenty of walks up and down the stairs, sausages and houmous, while I drank two cups of tea back-to-back, just because I could.
At some point too soon, it was time to get Zachy home to bed, but as the Greek God(zilla) couldn’t remember where he had put the car keys, we all spent half an hour turning the house upside down trying to find them while he stumbled around saying “No problemo love, no problemo”.
I checked all the usual places first (as this might have happened once or twice before…) but had no joy in the bread bin, under the rug or in the car door on this occasion. Just as I was about to concede that we were going to have to actually move in with YiaYia and Papou, I heard a big cheer from the living room as the keys were finally discovered in a plastic carrier bag behind the sofa.
Although, Zachy had already made other plans to get home.
Where’s the strangest place you have ever left your keys?