It was Harry’s first birthday the Saturday before last and all the family assembled in Qormi to celebrate our youngest darling’s birth. There were some 25 of us and he had no idea what was happening at his usually tranquil home. He was charging around beaming and smiling at everyone. He has inherited his perpetual good moods from his Irish grandfather. His parents organised a quccija. Julia Farrugia had told me, when we met at Trattoria Palazz, to make certain not to forget to place a pen in the tray. So, there was a biro too. He picked up rosary beads and then a biro. I haven’t asked why two objects yet. His mother made him a delicious chocolate cake but he was not allowed to have even the smallest of pieces. With his father there I wasn’t able to give him a few crumbs and instead, he loved Suzy’s delicious Salmon Mousse. I made loads of coloured sandwiches which is a tradition as my mother used to make them for us, I made them for my children in Mauritius and now I enjoyed making them for Harry. They were filled with love, parsley, cheese, eggs, mayonnaise and more love. He seemed to enjoy the savoury bits and pieces. I also made Peter Dacoutros’ Mortadella bread, from one of his recipe books. To my utter astonishment I got it right, first time round. I usually have to make a new recipe three or four times and poison a few people before it is edible and resembles the photo. I told Peter, proudly, of my latest achievement and he said that I should also try it with Salmon instead of Mortadella. I will. Peter was a little more personal when I informed him that I had not answered his sms about something or other because I had dropped my phone in the bath and was without one for a couple of days. ‘Who were you bathing with?’ he asked, rather naughtily. ‘With Harry’s duckling’, I replied, to his utter disappointment.



I managed to accept the kind invitation to the Saint Andrew Society’s Burns Supper which is held every year, at the Corinthia Palace. I arrived breathless and as I went into the dining room, looked quickly at my shoes to make sure that they matched. I have endless pairs of black shoes with varying heels so I have to be careful that at least they have the same height of heel. There I was, just in time for the meal. Embarrassing but in this business you never know when you are going to meet your deadline. I thoroughly enjoyed it all. Mrs MacLachlan ably chaired the proceedings and her husband said Grace. The speeches were excellent and I have reproduced Dr Welsh’s well-researched piece on Robert Burns on page 27 in this issue. Eight illegitimate children! John Lejman who is a music and theatre lover and whom I see on such occasions from time to time, addressed the Haggis in his own inimitable way. He promised to send me the speech to publish. Mr and Mrs Cunningham gave highly amusing renderings: he to the Lassies and his wife replied for the Lassies. They have known each other since they were children and they seem to have had fun ever since. There were songs of Robert Burns, sung by Joe Huber who was accompanied on the piano by Prof. Joe Vella and finally we all joined hands and sang Auld Lang Syne.

John Leyman complained that his wine glass was smaller than mine and that my love of wine had obviously preceded me. A waiter immediately changed his glass to a bigger one, so John was happier. We ate the traditional Haggis with ‘Bashed Neeps and Champit Tatties’ which was followed by Baked Scottish Salmon. Dessert was Raspberry Whisky Cheesecake which was also delicious and served with a Heather Honey Sauce. John told me that he had brought the Heather Honey over from Scotland himself. There was coffee and the delicious shortbread from Scotland which comes in the attractive red tartan boxes. The wine was sponsored by Delicata and the Famous Grouse whisky by Wands. We were all presented with a small bottle of the latter.

We wore endless kilts in our childhood and well into our 20s. I am so sorry I gave them away. I have always liked tartan and it was a sight to behold all those tall Scotsmen wearing kilts. The French say of kilts: ‘Good for Love but not for War’, and I am sure they are right. Some of the ladies wore tartan sashes but alas I could only recognize the Black Watch tartan which I have always found to be so elegant. A delightful evening altogether.



The sight of PN pundits desperately trying to discredit the ex-Nat Jo (not Joe) Said reminded me of the Taht it-Tinda days before the EU election. In those days the PN would welcome defectors from the Labour camp with open arms without a whisper about their Red past or their history. Eileen Montesin immediately comes to mind. But now anybody who turns to the Red side is denigrated and put down. As always two weights, two measures.



I was at a party the other day when I heard a woman who’s always voted for the Nats, saying that she’s going to vote for Harry of AD, this election. Well, it was inevitable that this two tribes mentality would come to an end one day. Funnily enough, the change is coming mostly from the most conservative areas. Much as I admire Harry I am afraid I shall be giving my vote to the Reds and to no one else.



I thought Dr Sant was absolutely right to protest about the appointments at PBS. The latest appointment of yet another harsliker who comes out of the blue to head PBS has left everyone with their mouth open. A group of us were messaging each other like mad when we first heard of it, in my case on One News. Arrogance, boldness, shamelessness and sheer cheek reign supreme in the Blue party. Do they think that the average man cannot see through it all and that they want this kind of behaviour, or worse, to continue for yet another five years?