Weekend Plans Post: Commandaria
My mom was a high school teacher when I was a kid. She taught English Literature and Greek Mythology. Her classroom was, originally, one of the worst in the building. It was one that teachers fought to not have to put up with. In the armpit of the school, the windows faced the wrong way so the sun always felt like it was imposing, and somewhat dreary all around. It had a strange pattern on the wall that was like a bunch of 18″ x 18″ squares separated by 4 inches of paneling. It felt old and dated and this was, like, the 70’s. It was old and dated back when Carter was president. She went to the principal and told him “give me that classroom and let me put up some posters or something and it’ll be *MY* classroom”.
The principal cheerfully agreed, focusing on the “some posters” and not noticing that mom put “or something” in there. She enlisted the art students and they painted the walls of the room and treated each little 18″ x 18″ square like a framed picture. I mostly remember Perseus holding up the head of Medusa because they got bloody with it. Little bits of gore and drops of blood. Hey, when you’re six years old, something like that is seriously out there. I remember one of the squares had “IO IS A COW” written in it in big, bold letters. Mom explained the story of IO to us, in age-appropriate language. I think her version was “Zeus wanted to take Io as a lover but Hera turned Io into a cow” instead of, you know, the *REAL* story. And every single one of those squares had a painting made by the art students in the school depicting one of the greatest hits of Greek Mythology (or a funny little quip).
I remember thinking that it was the coolest classroom in the school.
For a while there, mom’s bedtime stories covered what she talked about in school that day. Arachne, the labors of Hercules, Tantalus, Narcissus… and, of course, how the Gods of Olympus ate ambrosia and drank nectar. “What’s nectar?”, I asked. “It’s the sugar from flowers. Bees turn it into honey.” “Wow”, I thought, impressed.
Well, life happened and we moved away from Michigan to New York and from New York to Colorado and I’m sure that mom’s classroom was painted over about 20 minutes after she gave notice that she was leaving.
Anyway.
One of my friends got to go to Europe as part of his job and, on one of his days off, hopped over to see Mount Olympus. He’d heard stories, you see. It’s the tallest mountain in the region (fsvo “region”) and he visited Muses’ Plateau (2700 feet) with a handful of British people who were all gasping and wheezing. My buddy lives on the other side of Colorado Springs (6035 feet) and his attitude was “Oh, so this is where they were keeping the good air.”
On the way back down, he stopped by a little vineyard: Ktima Gerolemo. He got a tour of the building and he boggled that it seemed to be about no bigger than his house. Yep, that’s where they smash the grapes, that’s where they put the barrels, that’s where they bottle it, and that’s where they sell it.
He went through a wine tasting that sounded so wonderful that I could feel the envy radiating off of my skin. After telling me about it, he handed me a bottle of Commandaria… and then he said that he brought home an extra bottle and, hey, wanna have a glass of it right now?
And as we sipped it, he told me the story about how Commandaria is the oldest named wine in the world. The region got called “Commandaria” when the Knights Templar took it over and the wine got named after the region. This wine was served at King Richard the Lionhearted’s wedding and he called it “the wine of kings and the king of wines”. There are stories in Hesiod that talk about the type of grapes that make Commandaria and so this type of wine dates back at least to 800 B.C.
But before it was called “Commandaria”, it just had a little local nickname:
“Nectar”.
My buddy brought me back a bottle of something that I had heard about in my bedtime stories and there I was drinking a glass of it at his dinner table as he told me the stories about Europe, Mount Olympus, and Commandaria.
I still have the bottle, unopened, but I’m going to be drinking it this weekend. We’re having the birthday meet-up and I’m going to bring it and share it with the nephews, my sister and her husband, and, of course, my mom.
“Thanks”, I plan on telling her.
So… what’s on your docket?
(Featured image is “Daddy’s Home!”. Photo taken by Maribou when Rumpus heard the car door slam.)
My wife and I celebrated our 9-year wedding anniversary last Wednesday, so we are going to do something tomorrow. We don’t know what.
I have a job interview on Monday. A recruiter from a company reached out about a position at a location in my city. The interview is by Teams, so I need to get a laptop setup, since my desktop doesn’t have a good camera. I haven’t been actively looking, but I’m not really happy where I am at, so hopefully this will lead to something. I’m a darn good match, based on the job description.Report
I remember the first time that I got hired for a job that I was good at, not merely good for. That’s one of those feelings that I wish I could bottle.
Good luck! (And congrats!)Report
That’s my cat! Like, exactly my cat.Report
It’s a good model! They should should make even more of them!Report