Carly has a good deal to say on the subject of olives and has decided to dedicate an entire story about them. She wrote a good number of her stories on a wonderful yoga and writing retreat in Lemnaradis, Greece. It is silent in the mornings, and this suits her and all the other participants to attain writing nirvana. Especially as there is no Wi-Fi. On her 4th trip, she was staying in an apartment in a nearby village. She set herself the task of finding her way back along the olive groves in the pitch black at night, as a sort of scary, masochistic task. This is one of the joys of being in a remote place. There is minimal light pollution and ready access to a star-studded sky.
One of the other writers proposed she use this as the basis for a ‘Carly story’. Carly considers this idea. But Carly isn’t keen to solely feed off other people’s suggestions. Much better to build on them. Her relationship with olives is much more profound than just trying to remember which knobbly olive tree she needs to change direction to find her apartment at night. No, she will just write about olives in general. And she thinks that although this was well intentioned, it said more about how other writers perceived her bravery or foolhardiness to travel from A to B in the dark, refusing to use a torch, just to be different. For Carly it was more about seeing if she could do it. And she did, so she could.
Olives do grow on trees. And so, this seems to be a good place to start. As Julie Andrews sang in ‘The Sound of Music’ – start at the very beginning. Yes, thinks Carly, this really is a wonderful musical. She has listened to it multiple times. It is feel-good entertainment with loads of sing-along tunes and an important message. But mostly, it holds a special place as her son, Haz, had a solo singing part in primary school. Just thinking about his role makes Carly’s bottom lip start to quiver and her eyes fill with tears. He’d never sung in public before and had the sweetest of voices. Carly knew she was biased. But, so what?
Back to olives. Where to start? It could be a chicken and egg situation. The equivalent here being an olive tree versus an olive stone or pip. But the trees are for sure beautiful, so she will go for the trees first. They are gnarled and knobbly, lumpy and bumpy. A bit like someone has done a bad macrame job of their tree trunks. And the lovely sage green of the thin, lip-like leaves. The trees all look so very old and seem to have been in place for eternity. Maybe planted by farmers living in ancient times? Carly loves the idea of placing something in perpetuity for those in the future to find. Certainly, she has always encouraged her children to bury items of interest when they bury their deceased pets. And they have buried a fair few. This is the problem with living in a capital city with lots of cars and slightly fearless cats.
As usual Carly has gone off on a tangent. Back to olives. And olive trees which you can hug. They aren’t very wide. And hugging each one would be quite a different experience as they have numerous shapes and contours. Tree hugging is fun, but one can get a bit carried away in an olive grove. And Carly has far too many things to do. She cannot embrace every tree in an olive grove just so some trees don’t feel left out. This does bother Carly. She likes things to be fair. However, she reasons, her clothes are likely to get snagged on these trunks. There is an alternative. But Carly doesn’t fancy cuddling a tree in her birthday suit as she will end up with scratches and bruises. And we know what happens to 50+ year old skin. It takes a very long time to heal. Unsightly to say the least.
The other thing Carly likes about olives is the multiplicity of uses. Olives are eaten in various forms. Olive oil to drink – well sort of. And olive wood to carve items of beauty.
Let’s start with olives. Carly muses how even the olives can be different. Green or black. Wrinkled or smooth. They can be bought in tins, jars or loose. Pitted or with stones. And sometimes filled with wonderful items such as almonds, pimentos and anchovies. Yum yum. Carly is so excited about the range. A feast for all the senses. Even if you cannot hear olives, you can talk about them enthusiastically, muses Carly. And you can make olive tarts and tapenade. And put them in salads. And on pizzas. But you cannot really make them into soups, juices or cakes. No. That is not a good idea. So pretty versatile. And always a tasty snack. She wonders what category olives fit into. She realises they are grown on trees and so come under the general category of plants. But they don’t seem to be either a fruit or a vegetable. “Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm”, contemplates Carly. She really doesn’t know.
When her sons were young, they loved olives, and you could pretty much guarantee they would eat them. One day she was at work for 24 hours and, Ades their father, had to look after them. They were still quite young and rather fussy eaters. But olives were always a winner. And this is all that he fed them for the entire 24-hour period. Which was sort of fine as a one off. But not sort of fine, when changing nappies, the next day. You can get too much of a good thing.
Now moving onto olive oil. There are probably people out there with PhDs on this subject, thinks Carly. Virgin, extra virgin, extra + extra virgin, cold pressed, organic, fairtrade. The list goes on. She really has no idea what this all means. Well, it does certainly affect the price. And probably the taste, as well as how it should be used. She does wonder if it really is all that healthy for you. And it is a waste to use it to fry food. The heat denatures the particles, so it isn’t the healthy oil it was before and it is still much more expensive than other oils. But it is lovely on a fresh salad. And you can put it in soup just before you serve it. And in cakes. Like olives, the oil often comes in lovely packaging making it a very acceptable gift item. And you can use it on your skin. Especially for children. Yes, says Carly, who is a paediatrician. She often recommends olive oil to parents whose babies have cradle-cap. It makes a nice alternative to coconut oil.
Carly always associates olive wood with items for sale in Jerusalem. All three monotheistic religions have deep roots there and many objects of religious significance are made there. The wood is a wonderful mellow yellow. And is also knotted like the trunks. The olive wood items show all these features proudly.
Ah yes, remembers Carly. You can also make olive oil into candles and soap. She wonders what she has left off the list. Maybe she needs to go on a course to fully experience olives. And Carly loves courses. Later she will look to see if they exist. Probably. And she notes. Writing without Wi-Fi does mean you need to rely only on your memory. None of this obsessive-google-checking all the time. It is good to keep thinking and remembering, Carly reflects, to stave off dementia. “Here’s hoping”, Carly whispers to herself.
