Why do I do these things? My wardrobe is heaving with Size 14 clothes, mostly bought at sales, here and abroad, in moments of euphoria when I suddenly, for no particular reason believe that I am a size 14, even if the mirrors totally disagree with me. I delude myself into thinking that given a month I would be able to slip, yes slip into these skirts, suits, trousers without having to hold my tummy in. Well, I know why I do these things. I want Harry J.C. (HJC) to have a slimmish nanna who can slip into a pair of jeans, take flights of stairs three by three (as she used to, many mango seasons ago) and to be able to button up all her jackets without almost dying of asphyxia. For the time being he cares not, I am certain. He lives for his feeds – that is one thing we have in common. But soon he will care and want me to go riding a bike with him, wearing lycra shorts.
I bought myself a pair of jeans in Lisbon three years ago, from a shop run by Chinese and they are made in China, naturally. After trying some 15 pairs I finally got into a pair but not before I noticed that one of the salesgirls was fluffing outside the changing room, to check that I was still alive I suppose, and had not died of jeanitis.
But finally I emerged triumphant, gave her the 24 jeans I had tried and kept one of them. Not that I was able to slip into this particular pair with a strange name on the back pocket. I puffed and panted until they got past my knees etc. but at least the poppers did not pop but stayed closed. On the way out, at the till box, the chap there gave me a fan, as a freebie. I think he was quite pleased that after all that I had at least bought a pair. This was a kind of ‘buy something and you’ll get something free’, offer. I love it. In fact we all do whether we admit it or not.
The supermarket the other day handed me a bottle of bubble bath because I had spent some incredibly small amount of money. Nice, I said to myself. I shall return.
Of course my girls and myself are great BOGOF shoppers. In case you can’t make out what that means, well it’s short for Buy One Get One Free. In supermarkets and at Boots in London there are always BOGOFs to be enjoyed, though sometimes it is senseless to purchase too many of certain things, even if at the time it may seem like a good offer. I mean, in my case, what do I do with two enormous bottles of washing up liquid? But the temptation is always there.
When I last passed through Heathrow and as I was browsing in a music shop I saw this well-priced Tango Lounge CD set ‘Normally £5 and now selling for £4.26’. As I love tango and these three CDs promised me no less than 30 ‘Essential Tango Beats’ I purchased it immediately and could not wait to try it out at the first opportunity. But although the titles of these tangos are very promising: Los Loco, Mi Amore, Tango Nuevo not to mention Madalena, Buena Vista and goodness knows what other exotic titles, the music was not at all inspiring. I played the three 3Ds hoping that there would be at least a couple which were familiar but not at all. What a disappointment. So, although this was not a BOGOF in the strict sense of the word, however it has taught me to beware of cheap purchases which have a pretty picture but no credits anywhere.
A friend invited me to the Danish ballet at the Manoel Theatre. It was a treat though I found a couple of the dances rather bland. But I have a complaint. The Manoel must really do something about the seating in the stalls. I know nothing about seating but there must be people who do and they should be consulted. We were sitting in Lm30 seats which is a considerable amount of money to pay. However, we are both ‘small’ women and in front of us there were two Walkyries and another two in front of them. It was impossible to get a good view of the stage, so with a great deal of movement of the head while at the same time, trying not to disturb those behind, we managed to see only part of what was going on at any one time. Others must have been having the same problem. Perhaps next time round I should take a cushion with me and thus, make up with it that which nature did not give me.
Since tomorrow is World Book Day I would like to bring to your attention a book which has been sitting on my desk for quite a few months now. This is Jeremy Boissevain’s Hal Kirkop: a Village in Malta. Professor Boissevain needs no introduction for he and his family have paid numerous visits to Malta over the years and his Saints and Fireworks was groundbreaking. Hal Kirkop is published by Midsea books. It was first published in 1969 under the title of Hal Farrug: A Village in Malta. In his preface to the 1969 edition which is published in this edition Professor Boissevain writes that “the initial research upon which this book is based was carried out in Malta between July 1960 and September 1961 under the terms of a grant from the British Colonial Science Research Council. The present study was first presented as a course of lectures to first- and second-year students at the University of Amsterdam during the 1967 spring term. Although I have occasionally drawn on material published in my earlier volume Saints and Fireworks: Religion and Politics in Rural Malta (1965) most of the material presented here, as well as its underlying framework, is new.”
Like Saints and Fireworks, this is a fascinating book which helps us to understand ourselves and the workings, often Byzantine, of our society. There are chapters on Family and Relations; Marriage; Social Differences; Religion and Social Form; Ritual and Belief, Political Contests which includes Parish Politics and National Politics; Fireworks and a chapter on Fieldwork in Malta. In an extended new chapter, the 2005 Epilogue, Professor Boissevain sketches developments that have occurred in Kirkop since he and his family lived there in the 1960s. This is a truly fascinating chapter, a description by a seasoned anthropologist and a lover of Malta on how Hal Kirkop has evolved in the years since the first book about it was published.
It really does tell us a great deal about this village and about ourselves. Professor Boissevain has always been an excellent read. I was about to say ‘Go and buy it’... but I won’t.