I am tired of buying little bottles of distilled water from the petrol station. I seem to use gallons for my steam iron perhaps because I use steam to iron everything including my dish clothes and towels; the latter two an object of contention and derision with my darlings. “You must be a rare species, ironing dishcloths. Do you have to steam them too?”

I was looking at the output from my AC unit the other day. I use it to water my plants. I wondered if this water was distilled and so send an email to James McElhatton who is so clever and successful and whom I have known since my days in the library of the Evans Laboratories when he was a student with the likes of the leader of the opposition. He did his Ph.D. in X-Ray Crystallography. He then worked on a penicillin for Beecham, two pain killers for ICI and another ‘beautiful molecule for Prof. Rees (now an FRS).’ In spite of all this Chemistry his great love is Mathematics, he tells me. (I really must interview him.) So, jumping to the conclusion that he must know a thing or two about distilled water I sent him my question. ‘Yes,’ he answered to my cri de coeur, ‘ you may use the AC output for your steam iron. Ideally, avoid the first 10-15 minutes of output, fill up a plastic container and keep it for your ironing.’ I always knew that science had its uses. Newton and Einstein weren’t fools and made a useful contribution to the world, after all, even if it wasn’t about distilled water.

I thought James’ nugget of information excellent news, so I am now saving up the water to use in my iron and may well bypass his advice: ‘avoid the first 10-15 minutes of output’ since it sounds far too complicated. If the iron is too delicate to handle that first output, then I shall kiss it goodbye when it breaks down and go and get another one from the Trade Fair.

There was another problem of a technical nature which I have been wanting to address for some time; my little storm in my teacup if you like. Well, not really a storm but some choppy weather.

I haven’t been able to play my good old vinyl records for at least a couple of years as although my record player is fairly new the loud speakers are at least 35 years old and harken to my husband’s student days. They gave up the ghost and I haven’t played all my lovely music which is on my vinyls for far too long. I enjoy listening to them while I am in the kitchen. So, my young darling’s darling, who was out here for a short while, had a look at it and did things to the wires and attached it to the CD player so that now I can play both CDs and vinyls. When out there they are inflicting all kinds of noises on me including very loud processions, I can now get my own back by putting up the sound of my Piaf or Brel or some lovely waltz and drowning them out. And I long for winter days, when I can sit in my dressing gown, heater on, teapot hot and bothered and listen to Liszt and Chopin and Paul Anka on my vinyls.

I gazed at my CD/vinyl player proudly all day long, like a fond parent beholding his firstborn.

Men juggle around with wires and plugs with such ease and with good results. I merely look at them with trepidation. Thank goodness for the darlings of my darlings who help out so willingly. I’ve been very lucky in those quarters so far.

I am doing my utmost to accept as few invitations as decently possible while this infernal heat persists, which means until the middle of October. All I really want to do is put on as few clothes as possible and stay in the shade waiting for winter to return. I hope to be somewhere in cyberspace if, as predicted, there are going to be even higher temperatures. I was listening to a programme on BBC the other day and some scientist was saying that the sea, will rise by at least a metre. I took out my inch tape and selfishly calculated that it should not affect me in a flat on the second floor. ‘Dawk ta’ fuq il front’ whether old money or new, may be in a worse position. And swimming at the Exiles may become impossible altogether, even more impossible than it is now.

I learnt through my portable grapevine that not only have ‘foreign women’ been parading in their thongs displaying their cellulite, but they are now slicing cucumber and sticking it onto their nipples, to protect them from the sun. One little boy was complaining to his grandmother that his mother did not have ‘those things up there’. Granny found it hard to explain that generally, we eat cucumber in our salad or make delicate cucumber sandwiches for people we love with it. Decent women don’t stick it on their nipples but wear a top to protect them from too much sun.

A relative pointed out that people who want to display so much of themselves ought to go and pay an entrance fee and do so in the privacy of a hotel. She wrote to the mayor and one parish priest about it.

A friend of mine who is very much of the ‘God will punish you’ orientation, told me that the waters and temperature rising are the way in which God wants to bring us to our senses and to stop us from wearing thongs and cucumber. I no longer try to talk her out of this way of thinking which has no logic since it is often the innocent ones who get punished and not the ‘thong and cucumber’ variety. We all have our reality and this is hers. The ‘God of Punishment’ has certainly controlled previous generations. Alas, these days, no one is afraid of anything anymore.

Yes, in this heat I find little pleasure in dressing up, in drinking alcohol and in eating. This hasn’t stopped me from putting on a couple of pounds though. My young darling’s darling also brought me a huge box of Lindt. I put it in the fridge and had generous thoughts about sharing it with my friends. But the heat did not stop me from finishing it within a week, all thoughts of ‘sharing’ gone. Goodness knows how many hours I shall have to walk to take those calories off. I live my life in a state of continual repentance.

I wasn’t going to miss Toly’s 35th Anniversary dinner. It was held at Villa Marija, limits of Zurrieq, last Monday. In the morning I had a look at the invitation and it dawned on me that I had no idea where Villa Marija was and although a very clear map had been attached to the invitation, my heart sank as soon as I saw ‘Hal Far’ and ‘Peace Laboratory’ marked out. Goodness, the ends of the earth and what if I got lost in those parts? What if my car misbehaved? Would RMF be able to track me down? Luckily I was told that two cars were leaving from Susie Gatesy’s home and I could get a lift with one of them. What a relief and how kind! Thank goodness I didn’t try to get there alone. I would never have made it. I have had a posse sent out to rescue me before but this time round I had no ready mobile numbers as I had no idea who was attending this very special dinner.

Villa Maria turned out to be a lovely residence; a green oasis in a rather parched countryside. I would never have found my way there alone. Island Caterers rose to the occasion and it was all delicious, served on white napped tables on the lawn. It was even cool. Andy Gatesy gave a witty speech recalling that when he was just five years old when he came to Malta, for the first time, he remembered coming to the Bulebel Estate with both his brother Peter and their parents and seeing the factories being built. “The MDC representative showed us the factory that we had been allocated and my father told us that for good luck, we need to pee in all four corners of the factory – not an easy job when there are only 3 boys in the family, but we managed in true Johnny Walker spirit.” Mr Gatesy was later to find out that they were finally given a different factory: ‘So I am not sure who also ended up with the Toly luck, ” he quipped to much laughter.

He predicted that ‘the future will be about emotion not about events’ and that customers are extremely demanding. ‘They are pushing us continuously to lower our costs and move manufacturing to Asia.’ He said there are many challenges and ‘at Toly, we have a clear strategy for 2006 and beyond, based upon five key pillars: Competitiveness; China vs Europe; Innovation; Trading vs. Manufacturing and The Customer Experience.’

He also announced that on that very day Toly had incorporated their new offices in New Delhi – Toly India.

I am certain that the Prime Minister, who was present with his charming Kate and also gave a short speech, wishes that there were a few Gatesys in Malta who would bring their entrepreneurship and develop successful factories on our little island.