I had a lovely ‘girlie’ day with upbeat Mary Darmanin in Valletta the Saturday before last. We met at the Museum of Fine Arts where we were slightly disappointed with the Lazzaro Pisani exhibition but delighted with the recent acquisition of a fine 1941 watercolour of the Royal Opera House. Neither of us could make out the artist’s signature. Perhaps Heritage Malta could assist? We then went shopping for costume jewellery (me) – a pair of earrings – faux pearls and faux diamonds to match some faux beige pearls I was given and which I like very much; books, and some clothes (Mary). We sat outdoors in the kind winter sun, at Malata’s over a delicious lunch. I had been there a couple of times before with my darling 1975 baby and Harry who loved the food, too. We started off with a delicious salmon mousse, rosy as the dawn and which compared well with Suzy’s and it had been left to speak for itself with nothing fancy added. Now in restaurants and even private homes, one can’t rely on anything being left alone. Today, even the simplist dishes are unpredictable. There are sauces or coulis, maybe two or three, of different colours and perhaps a glaze or two. Sometimes they work but not always and as all things in life, the simpler the food, the better.

I am afraid I had already helped myself to the bread and butter-in-every-hole-possible, even before the salmon mousse arrived, throwing the dangers to my heart and arteries to the wind. I don’t often purchase Maltese bread because it is so very tempting and I am inclined to eat the whole loaf in one day, if it is the proper variety and not the cotton wool type. Mary had tagliatelle with seafood and I opted for the chicken with marjoram and accompanying vegetables, all cooked properly. We said we would not have dessert as it had been a substantial lunch, and I don’t mind giving Malata a plug as they deserve it. But we changed our minds when we heard what was available… should we share one portion? There were three desserts on offer. The dull idea of a shared portion was soon dismissed and when we were told the chocolate tart had finished we quickly decided on each of us having her very own dessert. And I can’t remember what it was though I do remember both of us feeling very happy with it. We asked the well-spoken young man who served us – he happened to be the son of the patrona – to congratulate the chef…a young Englishman – over six foot tall - who was having a break and sitting in the sun with his girlfriend. I never cease to marvel at the young. It has taken me years to learn to cook a few dishes and there he was all of 22 or so, a first class chef. We waved at him and said an enthusiastic ‘Well done!’ and he smiled back.

Mary told me all about her professorial Fellowship in Dublin. In the three months she was there, she got to know the city extremely well and loves it. Apparently it has many interesting museums, one of which houses Caravaggio’s ‘The taking of Christ’; a thriving cultural life and some splendid restaurants. Her favourite haunt remains the Irish Film Institute in Temple Bar, with its refectory style eatery and varied film programme – a good place to meet friends, she found. Having been awarded a second Marie Curie Fellowship at University College Dublin, Mary hopes to return in 2009. Interestingly, amongst participants in her Advanced Research Methods course were lecturers from the Royal College of Surgeons, Ireland who will be meeting in Malta in a couple of weeks time, and who hope to establish a Graduate Medical School here.

I must say, it was a rewarding morning, running into late afternoon. We smiled at a great many people we barely knew but who smiled at us and stopped to chat to others. My father always said: ‘Salutare e cortesia, ritornare il saluto e obligo’. I follow that to this day. It is encouraging to see that people did not hesitate to stop and talk to us, but especially Mary, who is a very well known – and loved – face on local television. They felt we were approachable. (Mary will not thank me for these revelations this morning I know!) The Sacred Heart nuns who educated us would have been especially proud of her and her achievements, for she is now professor though she will not flaunt this fact. We carry our education with us throughout our lives and remain thankful to the nuns who had such a huge influence on us and who gave us so much of their time and passed on their values – one of the most important being: do as you would be done by.

I received many comments from all kinds of people regarding my interview with Mrs Kate Gonzi in the February issue of First. Why did I give her such a positive interview? Why? Because I am not a worm and I do not try to destroy people just because we may not agree on certain matters. Mrs Gonzi is an excellent woman in her own right and I am certain does not use her position to belittle and sermonise anyone. How could I write otherwise about her? I like to think that there will be a day of judgement and I don’t want to jeopardize my chances. I believe we have to fight for a world which is more just and fair for everyone and although I may not succeed always, in my own small way I would like to make a drop-in-the-ocean contribution to this effort.

Of course, the prime minister is lucky to have such a wife and he chose well. However, it isn’t wives who govern and take decisions. Dr Gonzi says he is going make changes in his cabinet if he is elected again. But, the question is, what if his present ministers are elected again with large majorities, how is he going to replace them by the younger MPs? It will be interesting to see what they will have to say if he did.

I received an avalanche of messages and emails informing me that MEPA has been busy sanctioning boathouses sited on private land located in the Qawra/Dwejra National Park. But there is no time to look and see what is happening exactly. I will do so tonight.

I have a raging headache trying to keep up with blogs, editorials, news bulletins, newspapers, emails and messages. I want a weekend away from all this and intend having a Spa day in my bedroom and bathroom tomorrow, and using up some of the creams which I received over Christmas and which are soon going to go mouldy if I don’t use them up. Will I be transformed into Britney Spears come Monday? Don’t hold your breath.

Women chat to one another even if they have never met. I tend to start a conversation at the delicatessen counter because, if I go on the weekend, it is usually a longish wait and women enjoy a chat. I like to ask woman what they think of a certain cheese or a salami for example, if I have not bought it before. In fact yesterday my eldest with whose family I had supper, brought out a lovely goat’s cheese with honey. I’ve never come across it before, not with honey, but I will certainly have it again. I now know where to purchase it.

So, there are often occasions, during the week, to talk to women, usually because they talk to me first, about everything under the sun.

One subject which crops up regularly is the low wages on which many families have to survive. Those women who talk about low wages are not in posh supermarkets but usually at some small grocer’s or other shop where they will take me aside and whisper…asking, could you not write about it. How often have I heard the refrain: ‘Now that we are in Europe…when are we going to enjoy better wages/salaries?’ These are usually women whose husbands earn in the region of Lm6,000 a year – work out the equivalent in Euros yourselves please. They have small children and cannot go out to work and money is forever a preoccupation. How does a family of say, four, survive on a salary of Lm6,000 when the cost of living is forever rising, when there is a mortgage to pay, when there are schoolbooks, copybooks and so on to buy? It must be a very difficult existence indeed and I cannot even begin to imagine what one must do to make ends meet under these circumstances.

Some of them tell me that going out for a pizza or a pasta is a treat they enjoy on a birthday or a very special occasion. Any other type of meal would be prohibitive and would distablise their budget.

So many families are living on a part-time salary, sometimes the women doing evening work – such as waitressing and any other odd job they can get hold of – while the husband babysits small children. Babies and toddlers are shifted from pillar to post to a grandparent while mother and father are out working and barely earning enough to keep the family going. This is a reality many of us know nothing about and it is happening right here on our doorstep. But because everyone knows everyone else, poverty is kept well hidden for there is pride too. Of course, this is not the poverty you find in Third World countries but it is relative poverty. I can well imagine that such families hope for better salaries now that we are in Europe and will remain there.

Regarding the paragraph last Sunday in which I commented that the photographer of Bondiplus, René Rossignaud, had not sent a letter of resignation as councillor of Alternattiva to Dr Harry Vassallo but to Net, Mr Rossignaud send me a letter – not an email - correcting me and saying that he had also sent his letter of resignation to the Green Party. He explained in his letter to me: ‘For the record, kindly be informed that I sent the resignation letter to Dr Vassallo at 16.34pm while I sent it to all the press at 17.58. He insisted that I publish this information. So I have.