Reduced rubbish collection, fewer municipal cleaning staff, an under manned post office… all part of the governmental austerity measures, which are not going down well.
"I distinctly heard one of them say it was a ducking mess!!!"
Smoke and other very Bad-ScreensâŠ
We try, we really do, to advocate a positive spin on our island BUTâ
Stuff you are not supposed to see.
This morning a pony died in the upper regions of our village!
For those who have ever wondered what happens in such sad situations; in a place without hearses, never mind large animal disposal units, it is not an easy task.
It requires manpower with stoic stomach and muscle. (A lorry to deposit said animal to the dump beyond Mandraki; with some fire and other dumping on top)
But today the usually cloaked event was thwarted by bureaucracy, not Hydra motivated, but new law; on-high, the large corpse lay for hours. The Central government has created such dismal events to be delayed because of time/manpower, or the new lack of it. Had it been mid-summer hot; well, flies and accompanying plague may have had fun instead.
We try hard to pretend that the global economy and more specifically Greeceâs financial woesâ do not affect our little islandâ never mind outer Kaministan. But we cannot escape the reality anymore; no matter how much we bury our heads, and not donkeys, in the dirt.
Dirt being the tip of the anti-sword of new austerity measures, dictated by red-tape helmets in the Big Olive, have enforced measures that seem ludicrous to those of us who simply pay our simply way.
For those of you who would like to buy a stamp to send something snail-mail home; allocate an hour or three. Such activity is now under the duress of one poor employee who must deal with EVERY postal service. (Even poorer the other staff who were given early retirement) The queue in winter already goes out the door.
Thanks again smart government from the big all-seeing economic powerhouse that used to be Athens.
So in case you think this is alien waffle, here is the skinny as laid down by local discussion. The mayor has issued an ultimatum to the central authority. Give me back my employees in order to keep our island âcleanâ or I will Walk out. Toooo right !!
We could make this a political issue, but that is not what we are about.
I simply walked down to our garbage collection point, and noticed a lot more rubbish in the street. This however is so much as silly complaint to a life removed, that it is embarrassing to state, but the message is honest. If we feel it, then be âadvisedâ we are all under âadvisementâ. Time to be awareâŠ
All we can do is accelerate our personal âcarry-a-bag-and-clean-as-we-goâ help.
Iâll do my shit⊠now if only 6 billion other did one nice thing for humanity, once a day, no matter how minuscule, despite the circumstances, well then; we stand a small chance.
Just one small, kind thing, not about oneâs own agenda, or someone elseâs imposed agenda⊠simply something that was âNICEâ
Speculation as to the rather sudden erection of this structure was, as usual, pretty rife because the âwooden hangerâ was the first of its type to been seen in the valley in living memory. It has a string of gunship-like portholes along its length but no window to peer in or out looking onto the street. Such construction is usually strictly prohibited on the island, in accordance with various eco-architectural protection ordinances.
Faulty Factory?
What fanned the rumours was the fact it happened so quickly and work often took place by torchlight after darkâin the depth of winter. Being such a blatant building on the main inland donkey highway, it must obviously have received clearance from somewhere? Conjecture was fairly unanimous that this had required some unusual financial transacting, which in turn led to theories about the type of industry that would occur within the new factoryânaturally gossip supposed a business that was below legal radar.
Turns out that special license was passed so that a local carpenter, Adonis, could store his otherwise unsightly piles of lumber (which would previously partially blockade the main road), while permanent permission for his shop was being dragged through the sluggish layers of dawdling civil bureaucracy. In a red-tape decision that for once made sense, yer manâs wood supply would be protected, while the owner himself could earn a living under the same timber roof.
On a rare trip into the big city it was nice to see crowds enjoying a winter afternoon at one of the few open watering holes. Proof that there is life outside of outer Kaministan even at this time of year. (Attracted I suspect, by the home made cheese cake that Alexis had brought for Rolf).
Winters crowds
