When I was young, Easter mostly meant figolli and easter eggs to me, More of  a reason to eat chocolate and much loved marzipan filled Maltese figolli.

 http://www.google.com.mt/imgres?imgurl=http://www.europeancuisines.com/images/bunny_figolla_figolli.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.europeancuisines.com/Malta-Maltese-Figolla-Figolli-Marzipan-Filled-Easter-Pastries&h=167&w=250&sz=44&tbnid=lR14pqXWUWgYBM:&tbnh=90&tbnw=135&zoom=1&docid=bY4xJ1YPp6usDM&sa=X&ei=-OmFT7SlA-Xk4QTFgeW4Bw&ved=0CCgQ9QEwAg&dur=1161

Of course, I knew that Easter really meant the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, and that it was the most important feast in Christianity, (even more than Christmas - shock and horror).  I  remember celebrating Holy week by going to Mass on Maundy Thursday, where the priest washed the feet of the apostles (12 altar boys) representing what Jesus did before the last supper, and then on Good Friday, most people wore black and did the 7 visits - and those who smoked didn't smoke that day. I am still not exactly sure what the 7 visits represent, (I think the 7 things jesus said on the cross before he died), but everybody did them. It was actually fun. We used to visit 7 churches in Sliema, which were beautifully decorated with flowers and statues of angels around the tabernacle. The visits started on Thursday evening - many people did them then - and continued on Good Friday until 12 noon which is when Christ was up on the cross. Then at 3 pm, the time Jesus died, we used to attend the function of the kissing of the cross. I remember, as a teenager, when the gospel of the passion used to be read, I used to be singing the relevant songs from Jesus Christ Superstar (in my heart of course). Sometimes we even went to see the Good Friday processions in one of the villages where they were held. 

Oh I forgot to mention that we 'fasted' on Good Friday. Catholics are requested to fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday ie not eat between meals and not eat meat. So, just like most people did, my mum used to prepare a very big meal for lunch time. Pasta first, usually ravioli filled with ricotta, and after that Globe Artichokes with a tuna salad. Too filling if you ask me...... And we were supposed to be fasting! The mentality was, eat a lot so you won't starve till the next meal, once you cannot eat in between. What a farce!!!!

Then we used to go to Mass in the morning on Easter Sunday, just like any other Sunday, and pig out on figolli and chocolate eggs.

We did all this out of habit, because it was the done thing. No questions asked, no debates, no protesting, we just looked forward to it, but it didn't really mean anything deep, if you know what i mean

.

http://www.visitmalta.com/holy-week-easter

When we got married, we did the same things, but when we had young children, it wasn't easy to attend functions with babies, so I remember scrapping Good Friday functions altogether and we used to go for picnics with friends and their children, buy pastizzi with ricotta, or take a packed lunch, and that day was basically an extra holiday when we could go out.

Time passed and although I never stopped going to church, I just did it out of habit, and didn't know why. I had got tired and had something greatly lacking in my life. I had started to get fed up going to church, continued going..... out of habit, and maybe fear because we were taught that not going to Mass on Sundays is a mortal sin, and quite frankly I didn't want to go to hell so I continued going...... half-heartedly of course..... Everything was a whole bunch of do's and dont's but it didn't go deeper. I was sure there was something more and deeper than just rituals.

Until I joined a community. I was 28 at the time. My parents had joined a few years earlier and I had seen a great change in them. I loved discussing spiritual stuff with my dad, who was a very wise and spiritual man.  I went alone as hubby wasn't interested in the least. I used to take my 2 children with me, and they loved it.  I will never forget the first time we celebrated the Eucharist there. It took my breath away. I literally felt like I could fly, but something was pulling my wings down (the fact that hubby wasn't with me). Although the mass was longer than usual,  the children used to call the one in church the 'long' mass, and the one in community, the 'fun' mass. There was lots of singing, and joy...and I belonged to a community.   This was around October.

The following Easter, I still attended alone. Now this community celebrates the Easter vigil in the most beautiful way. It takes all night, but what the hec. It is the climax of our faith, and that night is the night of all nights. I remember attending my first Easter vigil with my parents' community, as it was just down the road and once hubby wasn't too pleased with my going out all night, I thought I'd hurry back afterwards. By then, he had really opposed my going to community. God knows what he thought we did (ha ha) but it wasn't easy for me and I often thought of leaving.

So I went. It was another taste of heaven. The singing and the songs were amazing. The flowers, the whole liturgy.... I was in ecstasy.....and when I went home, my bubble was violently burst.... This was the conversation between me and hubby....

Hubby: I'd like to know what you were doing all this time. 

Me:It was the most beautiful mass. But I asked you to come with me, and I also asked you if you'd mind if I went alone, once you didn't want to come.

Hubby: I wish I could have peeped through a hole to see what was going on

Me: But you could have just come in, the door was open.

Hubby: (Sulky growl).... and went to sleep.

Me.... happy but also upset he couldn't understand...

We were supposed to be having lunch with Patrick's family at a restaurant. I was, of course, very tired after being up almost all night, but I woke up anyway, and  hubby went to mass at St. Julians. He decided to walk.....just to let off steam. He was still in a very bad mood. So as soon as he left, I looked up and prayed: God, if you don't change his attitude, I am leaving community.

He came back, with a smile, and said : As from next week, I will be joining  you at community..........Miracle? You bet. I asked God for a change of attitude, and He gave me more than that. My first real personal taste of the Resurrection.

This was 1989.  I had just lost my third child a couple of weeks before, and had been very down after that, but I received so much that night. Surely my little angel was praying for his family from heaven.

In September I was pregnant again...the baby was due on May 9th, 1990. This year we were organising the Easter vigil in our community, in the same chapel where I had attended the year before.  I would have loved to baptise my baby during the vigil, but no chance once I was due in May........... 

In the 35th week of pregnancy, I was rushed to hospital because of severe bleeding. It resulted that I had a placenta praevia.... in other words, the placenta was presented first, which meant that I needed a caeserian section as the baby couldn't be born naturally with the placenta in the way, and it would have meant certain death for both of us. I was told that I needed bed rest in hospital until the baby was due. Two days later I started contracting and bleeding suddenly, so was rushed to the operating theatre for a c-section and Stephanie was born. I was unconscious and needed 3 pints of blood. Stephanie had some breathing problems and was placed in an incubator for 3 days. It was so lovely to hold her when  they finally gave her to me.

Then I thought....... this baby is certainly a gift from above, to be baptised in Easter. So I phoned our community priest, and literally told him to prepare for the baptism.,... and the reply I got was: Are you crazy? But I insisted and Stephy was the first baby to be baptised on Easter night in our community. We baptised by immersion, so the priest used to come home and practise holding her cos she was so tiny.

In the beginning of Christianity, Baptism was always done by immersion. This symbolises the death and resurrection of Jesus, and like him we enter into his death (below the water) and die to our sins and rise again with Christ. The most amazing thing is that the  Spirit we receive at Baptism, is the same Spirit who raised Jesus from death. How amazing is that!!!!

So Stephy was our beautiful Easter miracle. Another beautiful experience of Jesus so alive in my life.  Clare and Denise, our eldest daughters who were then 8 and 6, enjoyed the vigil so much. They couldn't sleep before with excitement, and neither did they sleep during the Mass. Once it was finished, they were already looking forward to the next one.

Our fourth and fifth children Daniel and Chrissy were also baptised on Easter night. Daniel was ten months old but we waited till Easter as it was a special night.

So year in and year out, we celebrated Easter night that way.... for 18 years.

The other functions of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday in the afternoon were also celebrated within the intimacy of the community. They were very meaningful. On Good Friday in the morning, instead of doing the 7 visits, I used to go to pay a visit in church and have some intimate time with Jesus.

Things changed in community, and we weren't so happy after some time. We stayed for 18 years but had long lost the joy, It had become just a bunch of rules and regulations to us and we couldn't experience God's love any more there, so we  started to search again. It was time to move on.   We eventually started to attend Youth Fellowship, but their Easter vigil left so much to be desired after all those years. It was an anti-climax.

I thank God that after doing the Alpha course, we have moved to the B'Kara Oratory and we have celebrated the last two Easter vigils in almost the same way as we used to and  the build up towards it through the functions during Holy wek are very intense and have had a great mark on my spiritual walk.

So far, I have just spoken about how I have celebrated my Easters through the years. But I go back to the title of this blogpost...... WHY EASTER?

To understand what Easter is all about, one needs to go back to a very popular story in the Old Testament.  I am referring to the story of Exodus.. WIthout this important part in the  history of Judaism, Easter, as we know it makes no sense at all. It is.the story of the Jews who were in slavery in the land of Egypt..The Jewish leader, Moses, was chosen by God to lead the Israelites to the promised land. But Pharoah wouldn't let the slaves go, so after 9 plagues on Egypt, which still failed to convince the Pharaoah to let them go, God sent the 10th plague... where the first born in Egypt was struck by the angel of death. For the Israelites not  to be killed too, God ordered Moses to kill a young lamb, WITHOUT BLEMISH, without breaking it's bones, It was to be cooked quickly, eaten quickly accompanied with unleavened bread  too. The BLOOD of the LAMB was to be smeared on to the door posts of each Israeli house, so that the Angel of death will not strike any Israelite first born. Thus, the blood of the lamb was to save the Israelites from death.This was called the PASSOVER (Because the Angel passed over the Israelite houses) The day this happened was also chosen by God. When the Egyptian first borns were struck, Pharoah just let the Israelites go. This was the first Easter or Passover. Thre israelites were told to continue celebrating this event every year at the same time. http://wiki.answers.com/Q/How_is_the_date_for_Easter_calculated_each_year

Thus the Israelites continued to celebrate the Passover on the Friday. The event, the celebration and the faith was passed on from one generation to the other, where the family Patriarch used to raise the cup of wine and say Blessed are you Lord God of our Fathers.....May you be praised forever. Then he also broke the unleavened bread and prayed, then the lamb was eaten.

This great event and tradtion was to foreshadow the even greater event which was to come.

This is why Jesus celebrated the Passover with His friends..... to continue the tradition and faith of his people................with a TWIST. He did NOT celebrate the Passover on the Friday, but the day before..... Because He is the Lamb of God,  He knew He was to suffer crucifction and death, so his murder co-incided with the killing of the lamb for the passover meal in every Jewish family. While the family was preparing the passover meal, the true, unblemished Lamb, Jesus, the son of God, was being tortured and killed, so that like the Jews experienced new life away from slavery in the story of the exodus, mankind could also experience new life because of Jesus's death and resurrection,  so each time a Eucharist is celebrated, it is giving us new life through Jesus.

It is also symbolic that  just as the lamb's bones were not to be broken, neither Jesus's legs were broken when He died. Instead His side was pierced by the Centurion's spear, and water and blood oozed from the wound. These are also symbolic as the water represents the water of Baptism and the blood represents the sacrifice in the Eucharist... the two pillars on which our faith is built. In fact Jesus fulfilled all the prophecies abiout the messiah http://www.scripturecatholic.com/messianic_prophecies.html

Also, the functions of Holy week now have  a very profound meaning. On Maundy Thrusday, the message from when Jesus washed the apostles' feet it that to love one needs to serve just like Jesus did.

The Kissing of the Cross function on Good Friday means that we need to embrace iur cross in life,

New Living Translation Matthew 16:24 (©2007)

Then Jesus said to his disciples, "If any of you wants to be my follower, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross, and follow me..

But what strikes me most in the story of Jesus's death is the ripping of the curtain in the Temple of Jerusalem. Now in those days, in the Temple, the Holy of Holies (where the Ark of the Covenant with the ten commandments was kept) was separated by a large heavy curtain. The High Priest was the only one who could enter to burn incense, only once in his lifetime on the DAY OF ATONEMENT .It was the most highy venerated place in the Temple. No one  else could go in..... But at 3 pm, as soon as Jesus drew His last breath, the curtain of the Temple ripped open on its own.. This just gives me the shivers, as it means that Jesus, the main High Priest, entered the Holy of Holies,himself.  It also means that from that moment, Jesus was there for everyone, not only for the Jews.http://www.goodseed.com/pdf/tabernacle/tab_lesson08.pdf

Then on the third day after Jesus was laid to rest in the tomb, He rose from the dead. This just gives me hope. It really means that Jesus has entered into our situations of death, situations which seem to have no way out, but  with Jesus, everything is possible.

I close with a reflelction I read this morning about the resurrection:

 How easy it is to miss the Lord when our focus is on ourselves! Mary did not at first recognize the Lord because her focus was on the empty tomb and on her own grief. It took only one word from the Master, when he called her by name, for Mary to recognize him. Mary's message to the disciples, I have seen the Lord, is the very essence of Christianity. It is not enough that a Christian know about the Lord, but that we know him personally. It is not enough to argue about him, but to meet him. In the resurrection we encounter the living Lord who loves us personally and shares his glory with us. The Lord gives us "eyes of faith" to see the truth of his resurrection and victory over sin and death.The resurrection of Jesus is the foundation of our hope – the hope that we will see God face to face and share in his everlasting glory and joy.

YES, EASTER means new life to me now.... and hope which never dies. Even though some of  my children don;t practise this beautiful faith any more (which gives me much heartache), they suirely cannot understand yet, and they also think I am over the top because of the time I dedicate to Him, the church and to bring the good news to others.,But   I cannot deny this personal relationship.. I know the faithfulness and miracles  I have experienced and no one can take that away from me. Easter is Joy. I live from Easter to Easter.' We are the Easter People' (John Paul II)

What does it mean to live 

Easter-ly? 

•  It means that I allow myself to feel what I 

am feeling, and to work with those emotions, bringing them to prayer and asking 

the Holy Spirit to use the energy of those 

emotions to move me forward in some way. 

•  It means that I attend to people and situations within my circle of influence, always 

looking for ways to “help souls,” to interpret God’s love in specific circumstances. 

•  It means that I move into my life rather 

than try to avoid it, deny it, or run from it. 

•  It means that I quiet my life enough to perceive what God is saying to me, in my one 

life, this day.

http://deepeningfriendship.loyolapress.com/2012/03/09/is-lent-enough/

Today my friend posted this link on facebook. Each lent I start with a resolution to fast. Joke of the century.

Lent is a time of grace, given to us to repent and believe in the good news. A time of Courtship between God and man. A time to convert which actually means, to believe that God loves you.

In lent there are 3 important things to do. Prayer, Fasting and charity. I always have a problem with fasting...... I just start well and forget. This year I was determined........I didn't always manage up to now. But every time I remembered, I had to remind myself the reason. It was not a diet, It was not a detox, but every time I craved something, I needed to remember to pray for enlightenment on what God wanted me to change in myself..... with His help of course. The very realisation of what I am doing wrong is the initial problem.

Last week the weather was beautiful. WHen it is beautiful, I get the urge to be very active around the house, so I just enjoyed doing housework..At one point, the sun shone so brightly that I could see all the dust and grime so clearly, and of course wanted to clean it off. Then I thought, this is what God wants. Through the light of his love, He gently shows us what needs to be cleaned away. Sometimes the grime is tough because it's been there a very long time....

Now my children call me religious. I hate the word. It reminds me of hypocritical freaks, who are holier than thou, and think that they are good just because they go to church.....I prefer to say I have a relationship with Him and have faith, which is becoming stronger as I realise how much God loves me as I am. But the fact is that it is easier to convert when you have been a big sinner and discovered God's love, than someone who has never really left the fold.. I am one of the latter unfortunately I dare add.. So my constant prayer is..God show me where I go wrong.... and He does, gently, firmly, lovingly. And shockingly too :)

Yesterday we watched a great film called Courageous. It was very moving. It is about good fatherhood... A rarity these days.... Of course I found myself judging..hmph.. Then, this morning, something cropped up.Basically I was accused of instilling doubt...............

Pam ! it hit me. It was so true. My mother was never sure of herself, neither hubby, let alone me..... Therefore, I doubt my decisions, or anyone's for that matter. It is terrible, to be honest. A doubtful person is mistrustful. When you mistrust, you think that only your way is the good way,,,only to doubt yourself after a few minutes anyway. Not a healthy attitude. But unfortunately this attitude has been gnawing at me for so long..So I was so grateful for the realisation.

But could I do it alone? Can I change a life long habit just like that? No.Of course not. But being a self critical person - in a good way sometimes- I appreciate people telling me where I could be wrong(well maybe not immediately). And sure enough, I was reminded big time today and saw myself as I was/am. I didn't quite like myself today.

But of course, I am more grateful that despite this terrible trait, God still loves me, and keeps giving me chances. He is a God of second, third.... infinite chances. He IS love. Next step..praying to be more assertive.

When I was accused of instilling doubt, I suddenly thought of what we were told in the Lent retreat-and many times before that...Isn't instilling doubt what Satan always did? Isn't it what he  did to Eve? - Is it true that you are not allowed to eat from all the trees.......in other words, if He were not afraid you'll be like Him, he'd let you eat from that tree...So He doesn't really love you.

Satan also tried to tempt Jesus IF you really are the Son of God....

When Jesus was on the cross, his enemies said: If you really are the son of God, get down from the cross and save yourself.

His demonic energy is used to make us doubt God;s love....And there I was, doing this to myself and everyone around me so often, albeit in my zeal to do the right thing,and fear of taking wrong decisions....

Instilling doubt actually backfires.It leaves you to be very lonely, if not paranoid. Imagine this situation: Your daughter says she is not well enough to go to school. You doubt her. You get angry. You wonder if she is telling the truth, so you give her the benefit of the doubt and let her stay home. Then you doubt if you've taken the right decision.You discuss it with your husband. You blame him for not speaking to her the way you'd have liked him to. You instil more doubt.  Then later on in the day you are not feeling too well. You feel jammed. Probably the weather, or arthritis or something. . But you wonder if you are really unwell, so you push yourself to the limit, thinking you might be exagerating...Then you comment about your not feeling well. Your son says you''re always complaining. But you've been carrying on for a long time and you've only just opened your mouth to say you are in pain, so you get angry because you want some empathy..or sympathy, or some offer of help etc. But you don't get it, because you have always pushed yourself and others to the limit, so you are expected to do things no matter what, without complaining.  .And it goes on and on........The way to break this vicious circle- Know your limits, believe in yourself, be assertive Believe others.. Be strong in the knowledge that God loves you so much and that if your intentions are good, then any decision taken, whether good or bad, He can turn to your advantage. SO you don't have to fret and worry really.

Easier said than done, but I know that with His help, I will manage. I need to, I want to, I have to, because this is one thing that has been eating me up on the inside. I have been going round in circles and  have always wondered why, or what was the cause. So I am honestly really grateful for this realisation, and even more for the fact that despite this terrible trait, we still all stuck together, and love eachother in our own peculiar ways..( I have given myself, hubby and kids quite a hard time because of this.) Our work? Definitely not alone. He was with us all along, turning  all bad decisions and actions to our advantage, without us even noticing. Why? Because He can only Love.This is the Good News. This is why Jesus rose from the dead, to defeat satan and his wiles, to save us and open the gates to Paradise once again.

And I thought I was good? Ha ha. 

SO here is a public apology to my family for always being doubtful. My intentions were good though. I just didn't go about things the right way. But I never give up, thank God. and He never gives up on me either. So we're a good team :)

So, back to the initial question:  are 40 days enough? You bet. I don't think I can handle more than one thing at a time.I think it is a lent to remember. Hopefully a turning point in my life.

Christmas - In memory of my departed father, grand parents, uncles and aunts.

Christmas for me means joy, carols, church and family gatherings first and foremost.

I have a few Christmas memories which are deeply imprinted in my mind. As I only have one brother, Christmas wasn't very noisy at home but I distinctly remember visiting my uncles and aunts on my father's side (Come to think of it I don't think we used to do anything much on mum's side) I remember visiting Uncle Eddie and Auntie Rina's house. Auntie Rina was my dad's sister. They had 5 children - 6 actually but Margaret died at 14. The other cousins are Antoinette, Denis Frans, Alex and Louis.(Antoinette, Alex and Louis now live abroad)  Uncle Eddie was a Christmas enthusiast. He used to build a massive crib and if I am not mistaken it either had running water (a stream) or else had something mechanical in it. But I could be wrong. What I do remember distinctly is the lights on the Christmas tree. They used to be made of coloured glass depicting Christmas characters: Father Christmas, snowmen, baubles. He also had other fairy lights so Christmas was really lit up. They weren't rich financially but they had a lot of love to give. They even used to make it a point to give small gifts to the little nephews and nieces. Vermouth was offered.....no age limit way back then. We used to gather in their tiny living room and just be together. Beautiful. (Uncle Eddie died in his forties and Auntie Rina died two years ago on December 13th. I was the last to see her alive... but that is another story)

Then in the evening we used to visit dad's other brother, Uncle Manuel and Auntie Mary. They had seven children! Joe, Dorothy, Paul, Tonio,Carmen, Hector and Mary Grace who is my age. I loved going to their house. The atmosphere was so warm and welcoming. Again they were definitely not well to do but one felt the love there. I always said I wanted a big family. They were such an inspiration to me. Luckily they all still live in Malta so they get to see eachother often, although my aunt and uncle are now dead. We always received tiny presents and were always happy.

I think we used to have Christmas lunch at home..... I am not even sure. I think nannas used to eat with us. But how funny, I can't remember. As my mum has 6 brothers and sisters my maternal grandmother- nanna Carmen,  used to take it in turns to be at Uncle Charles (God rest his soul), Uncle Maurice or at our place. So we took it in turns.   But what I do remember is that nanna Carmen used to make special cakes for all her children and neighbours. These cakes used to be plain vanilla ones layered with different colours of blancmange and covered in chocolate. One must also note that these cakes were all hand made as there was no such thing as a food processor in my gran's house. They were a labour of love and everyone really looked forward to nanna's cakes. 

Christmas 1973 - Nanna Carmen was supposed to come to eat with us and go to Uncle CHarles for new Year but somehow we switched days. My brother and i went to visit nanna on Christmas eve to give her her present and told her we'll see her on New Year's day. She said she hoped so in a very meaningful way. She was in good health so we brushed it off as something someone would just say. Sure enough, on the night between 26th and 27th December, she had a brain haemorrage and died suddenly. I was so shocked sad, angry etc.It's like she knew. She was my favourite nanna. I will write a post all about her eventually.

Eventually the family grew bigger, all the cousins were either married or engaged so eventually we all used to go out to eat together at a restaurant.- Those who could anyway as some used to be invited to their in-laws. Nanna  Ercilia (dad's mother) died in February 1981 aged 86 - 6 months before I got married :(

Ok so that was how we used to spend Christmas DAY but I will now write about the build up to Christmas. In those days the Church was really the centre of everything. I was also in the church choir and we had many activities. We used to sing every day in the Christmas novena (9 days to Christmas). There was Carol singing during the Mass, so this spiritual preparation gave us the TRUE meaning of Christmas. Of course there were also parties, carol singing in the streets just to get some pocket money, and the choir also used to go carol singing in hotels etc to raise funds. I also used to love to have the house decorated for Christmas  and I used to make it a point to set up the CHristmas tree myself. Such fun. We also always had a crib with little pasturi (statues) with all the characters of the Christmas story.

The climax used to be MIDNIGHT Mass. Once my brother did the famous <Priedka tat-tifel> (The boy's sermon) Something traditional in our churches at Christmas. After the Mass there were always sweets and goodies and vermouth of course and I am not sure if we opened our presents then. There was joy in the air. Christmas was all about joy not presents then.

New Year: I just remember one thing on New year's Eve. We had British next door neighbours who we were very close to. The Cuells. We used to get together with them and have a drink and some goodies at night and before midnight we used to open the outside door. Helen(Cuell) used to insist we do it so that the old year will go out and the new year will come in. At midnight we all gathered round the table, holding hands singing Auld Lang Syne. Simple but fun. Anything to bring back that time,

My mum can't drink milk. I never quite liked it either. I distinctly remember when I was young, all the antics my mum would try to make me drink some.... There used to be long glasses with rows of differently coloured spots and I distinctly remember her telling me to drink up to the yellow spots, then up to the blue spots and then to the red. I would only drink flavourd milk and would never down undiluted milk. The glasses looked a little like thishttp://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/Vintage-Retro-Atomic-Drinking-Glasses-Spots-Geometric-50s-60s-/320771554520?pt=UK_Collectables_Vintage_RL&hash=item4aaf797cd8#ht_2086wt_713

We were of course brought up with the mentality that milk is good for you. So it was forced down our throat. I grew up and only took milk with a cereal. Up to now I can only have a teeny weeny bit with my cereal and if I take a bit more, God help us all. I get bloated and feel very sluggish. 

Dietary awareness has now made me look into this problem and had me wondering if I am after all, lactose intolerant. I do love cheese, a little bit too much but I must admit that I feel better if I have goats' cheese.  I also love Ravioli with tomato sauce. But every time I ate this food I was so bloated. Of course, Ravioli are filled with ricotta...... Until I tasted ravioli from Cafe jubileehttp://www.cafejubilee.com/ourfood.html, and later on Rexy. These are filled with goats' cheeselets instead of ricotta. And there are no side effects :)..... Goats' cheese does not contain lactose so this is more of an indication that I might , in fact, be lactose intolerant.

I was recently giving English private lessons to a Kuwaiti Medical student and while we were discussing different ailments and conditions, I mentioned something about my aversion to milk. And he told me that most Maltese are lactose intolelrant. There is a particular gene which makes it difficult to digest lactose.

My daughter Steffe was quite interested in this and looked further into it..... and this is what she found. It has a lot to do with evolution. Well  there were no cows in Malta until a few decades ago.Malta is not exactly full of green pastures for them to graze so they were imported.  People used to drink goats' milk before then. So the stomachs of the Maltese were used to Goats' milk which is free of lactose.

Now it takes six generations until something new evolves. (an example is the appendix. We do not need it because we cook our food but it is only recently that a couple of people were born without an appendix..... This is also true of babies who are born with their eyes open, when in the past babies were born with closed eyes....... do you understand what I am getting at? it is evolution).  SO going back to cows, they haven't lived in Malta for six generations, which makes most Maltese lactose intolerant....... and most don't know it. 

Could this account for obesity among the Maltese as well? It is a very big problem on the island...

Music was my first love
and it will be my last.
Music of the future
and music of the past.

To live without my music
would be impossible to do.
In this world of troubles,
my music pulls me through.

John Miles,

These are the words of an old favourite song of the 70's. It is still popular today. Fantastic song and instrumental.

These words are so true of me. 

I was born in 1958 - a time when the world was still recovering from World War II. A time of new technology and inventions (like TV) It was the time of epic films like Casablanca and Gone with the wind. It was the time the Beatles, Elvis Presley, Cliff Richard and the Rolling Stones were heard of for the first time. It was also the time when singers like Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, Gene Pitney were popular. And then there were the Italian singers like Nilla Pizzi who won the first Sanremo that year, WIlma de Angelis, Teddy Reno etc. We only listened to music on the Rediffusion(a cable radio). There were two stations - the Maltese one and BFBC (British forces broadcasting) as we were a British colony way then. Being so close to Italy, Italian songs were very popular on the Maltese station.

I was (apparently) a very fussy eater, so to get me to eat, my mum used to sing to me. By the age of 2 I knew all the popular Italian songs of the time. My dad's friends who had heard me, used to ask him if he ever found dinner ready at home,jokingly insinuating that all my mum did was teach me how to sing - well I was a fast learner and my mum a great cook!!!

I cannot live without music. My tastes vary from Rock to pop I think that the  music I really don't fancy is jazz, (some) country(a bit too soppy for my liking - much to my husband's dismay cos he loves it), and I hate house and trance and that kind of electronic (dare I call) music. I also cannot take too much rap at one go. I think the lyrics are too aggressive and hateful and the music is not very varied anyway. Rather tasteless in my opinion(Sorry Daniel). But then again I do like a mix like;Walk this way by Run DMC and Aerosmith. I also like songs by Guns n Roses believe it or not.

But I just loved  70's and 80's music.The best ever in my opinion

I don't watch much TV. I don't make time for it - or don't have the patience to sit down and just watch.  But one programme I do make time for is RAI 1's "Ti Lascio una Canzone". This show is presented by the charismatic Antonella Clerici, and has been going on intermittently the last few years. In this show, children ( aged between 7 and 15) with amazing voices,sing cover versions of famous and classic songs, popular in the 60's, 70's and later, sometimes even with the original singer. 

Last week's show featured Fausto Leali who sang some of his repertoire with the young singers, and one particular song A Chi? dating back to 1967, triggered off some childhood memories, buried so deep that not even my husband or children know about them. These stories must be told so I decided that I must start a blog with all these memoires to leave for my family, so they can know more about my childhood and where I really came from. A childhood filled with music, shows and festivals, drama and history.A simple,unusual but very interesting and happy childhood for which I am so grateful.

When I was just a few months old, my parents moved to a larger house shared with an old lady . She lived downstairs and we had the two upper floors. This old lady was Maria Assunta Borg - a  very lonely lady with no family. She and her sister used to run a business in Valletta but they went bankrupt. She'd lost her sister,her husband and her three children who all died before they were 1. I used to call her Aunty Sunt. She was my confirmation godmother - the oldest one that day but it didn't matter. Aunty Sunt loved music especially opera. So at a vey tender age I developed  ..how can i say?..... a relationship with opera. She used to sing arias and tell me the story of each opera. I used to try to sing the arias too. putting on 'the opera voice' :)

She used to buy magazines in Italian - Oggi and TV Sorrisi e Canzoni so I used to love to read all the gossip about the famous actors and singers of the day. Festivals which were popular then were Sanremo (of course), Cantagiro, Un disco per l'estate abd many more but I can't remember their name. In one of the festivals, in 1967, a new singer named  Fausto Leali with a very hoarse voice sang the powerful song A chi? Listening to this song last week reminded me of the many nights i used to spend at Aunty Sunt's house ( we had moved to another house up the road so I often visited and spent the nights there) We used to buy magazines with the lyrics of the songs in festivals, and I remember singing the popular songs at the top of my voice to her, in bed, before we went to sleep. I am not sure if A chi? was one of the songs I had sung but I distinctly remember singing one of Fausto Leali's songs among many others popular at that time, What fun it was. Free entertainment.

It's also funny that one of the reasons we had moved away from her house, apart from the lack of space after my brother was born, was that my mother thought that Aunty Sunt had a negative influence on me, because she , being quite old and alone, complained quite a lot and that I had started to complain too much as well. It was probably just the age - hers and mine. Oh well, I only have very good memories of my Aunty Sunt.

One other thing I remember is that she didn't exactly fancy cats. And of course cats being cats, tend to spray anywhere they fancy appropriate  in the hot summer months- like front doors . So on opening the door, one is greeted with a fantastic musky aroma! Her front door was a favourite.I remember her muttering to herself: CANAGLIA!!! so funny. Once I decided to trick her by mewing outside her house and she got very upset and I heard her shout: Qassa l'hemm, kxxxxx. She was such a dear :)

She died on May 4th 1974 at the age of 76. May she rest in peace.