Today Mr Google invited me to go and look at the photos I took on this day three years ago.
It's the feast of St Anthony today and in our neighbourhood we have a small church dedicated to him. Three years ago when life was just
the normal routine we went to the early morning service. K naturally was one of the first there. I crept in towards the end.
The wives of a couple of local Antonis had brought boxes of cakes which were passed around after the service and nibbled whilst chatting and wishing everyone Kronia Polla and even kissing a few cheeks. Most of the congregation then slowly drifted away. But not us, oh no. K knew what was going to happen next. The neighbours who look after the little church brought in a big oven tray of baked goat and lemon potatoes and a few litres of their own wine.
The 'in' crowd enjoyed fork fulls of roast goat and a glass or two of wine
The little church of St Anthony is literally in someone's backyard.
Today there may have been a service to celebrate this Holy Day but we didn't attend. I doubt there were any celebratory meats afterwards if it did take place. Maybe next year.
Any celebrating will be done in the private homes of Antoni and Antonia and there will only be very close friends and family in attendance. But I'm sure they'll be celebrating as normal with their own fatted calf, flowing wine, music and merriment
Kronia Polla Anthony Rolf 💕