The next morning I woke up with one very sore head, and decided to stay off the ouzo! The Ya-Ya was sympathetic, wanted to give me a swig of vodca, as she said it helped for her to get over a hangover, but I just could not face it. While I was busy with Ermioni, the Ya-Ya got busy in the kitchen, and the smell of frying bacon made my tummy turn, and when I went down and found a full English breakfast laid out, I almost shot a cat! But, said the Ya-Ya, it will do me the world of good, so I ate some of the beans, then felt much better, and with Gran encouraging me, I managed to eat the whole platefull, and I must say, I did feel better after.I thought the English breakfast was just because of me, but the Ya-Ya assured me that she loved it, and eat like that every day! I went for a short walk with Ermioni before her nap time, and I was glad that Yannis told me to take warm jackets, as it was quite cold. From all the little houses people came out and shouted 'calimêra Kyria' to me, and it gave me such a good feeling of belonging! While Ermioni slept, the Ya-Ya skillfully pulled a lot of personal information from me, and She sympathised about my husband, and it wasn't long before I told her about my strange sisters! The oldest one, Lida, was wonderfull, and we were great friends, but Sue, the one just younger than me, who was a great beauty in her youth, had become so paranoid that I do not visit her, as she always accused me of either stealing from her, or wanting to steal her husband, and she wanted to take everybody to court. Then my youngest sister fell into the hands of  one or other sect, and once told me I was like a big bird in paradise, flying around wrecking everything in my way!  I often wondered if she said a bird IN paradise, or a bird OF paradise! Oh my! She married very young, and went to live in Namibia, and this beautiful young man was much in love with her, but he had one flaw, he loved to entertain! Now, entertaining is one thing but brother in law loved his friends and he loved his Windhoek beer, and would come home in a state of happy innebriation most nights, while she had to skimp and scrape to keep the house going. One night he came home singing loudly in German, stopping now and then to call for his schnumfy, his pet name for her when intoxicated and suddenly she just had enough and she wanted to slam the door in his face, but his head was halfway in, and she knocked him unconscious! She thought she had killed him, and phoned the police, who assured her that he was breathing strongly, and the doctor confirmed it when he came. This little interlude had as a result that he stopped drinking, and she of course started worshipping, I suppose as penance for almost killing her husband, at this funny church, where they apparently sang a lot, and also did a lot of clapping. I knew poor brother in law complained a lot about his wife's singing, but I never knew how bad it was until I went visiting for a week and had some firsthand experience of Sister praising the Lord! I was still deep in dreamland that first morning, when I woke up thinking that ten cats  were being brutally tortured. And inbetween this there was a sound like a huge machine sawing through a very thick piece of wood! It was absolutely unbelievable, as my sis now and then had to stop to take a breathe and  then hubby must have thought 'peace glorious peace', and went back to sleep, and of course would commence with his snoring! And having taken a good breather, Sis would start at a lower note, but not for long, as she could not stay on the right notes, taxing her voice to the utmost to rise above the snoring and ended up screeching like a soprano who went beserk! Now, my mum was very artistic, and liked to write, and we all got this from her, but one thing we can NOT do, is sing! When I was younger I thought I was just the best front singer in the church, but after leading the whole congregation astray and off note when I married and went to my husband's church, and the preacher, after the third Sunday asked me to cool it a bit, I stopped singing altogether, and felt so unloved in church that I also stopped going, and took up painting. The Ya-Ya thought it very funny, but said that she could not believe that, with a little help from her, I would not learn to sing like a songbird! Ha-Ha!!!! That night after dinner the bazouki came out, and I realised that it was the beginning of my singing lessons. Ya-Ya first gave me the notes with the bazouki, then with her voice, and I thought I was doing quite well, when, after about fifteen minutes she suddenly put the bazouki down and asked if I would rather watch a video! Needless to say, there was no more attempts to make a nightingale out of me!!