Psst... want to live in Santa Marinella?

Am posting this around in appropriate places...

I've got a nice room available in a large and sunny flat near the beach in Santa Marinella. It's suitable for a sensible student or a working person (for someone who doesn't mind a painless train commute). Must be tidy, cat-tolerant, and like good food, good books and friendly company (different languages OK). S. Mar is a very quiet and friendly, pleasant town out of Rome but within shouting distance. Ladies only please. Rent 400 + bills.

S. Marinella in spring.


Our promenade in April

Calliope

Post by Hilary Jane Margaret White.

Malta
This is the calliope that was playing in Republic street on our first morning in Malta last Wednesday.



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Hilary's life hack

Here's a good way to fight the sedentary lifestyle. Most of us sit down to work these days, and we keep getting told lately that sitting = smoking for badness. So, I've been doing this thing that seems to help not only keep the blood moving, but the time be more useful in general.

Get one of those old fashioned clicky egg timers. Set it for 25 minutes and put it down on the other side of the room so you're not looking at it. When it rings, get up immediately and set it for another five minutes.

In that five minutes, you'll be amazed at what you can do. Hang up a load of laundry. Feed the cat and put the kettle on. Do fifty jumping jacks and twenty crunches/sit-ups. Clean the bathroom sink. Do anything that does not involve sitting down. When it goes off, set the timer for another 25 minutes.

You'll be amazed at how much more you get done when you know the timer is ticking down. I had friends coming over for dinner a couple of weeks ago, and had to both work and get the house cleaned up and dinner on and I just did it all in five minute increments throughout the day. Worked like a charm.

What do you do?



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Malta bucket list:

Eat fenek
check out War Museum (cried)
check out Palace Armouries (swooned at the manly coolness)
check out Ancient megalithic temples (felt wise and mysterious)
Blue Grotto/sea cave boat tour
get a hair cut (no longer look like basset hound - win!)
get confession heard in English (priest delayed the Mass for me!)
go to Mass in St. John's Co-Cathedral (glorious church, depressing liturgy)
go to my friend Madeleine's wedding
meet with Maltese pro-lifers
check out Birgu/Vittoriosa/Three Cities
get a ride across the Grand Harbour on an eye-boat/dghajsa/luzzu
(learn how to pronounce 'dghajsa' - "Dai-zah")
learn at least one full sentence in Malti ("Flixkun ta 'ilma bil-gass, jekk jogħġbok." Which seems a very laborious way of asking, "A bottle of sparkling water, please.")

I got it all done.

On the first three days, we marched smartly around getting things done and being very excited. Then my friend went home and I was left to my own devices so, naturally I slacked off. My left ankle was ballooning up every day from the heat and I was pretty tired, since we had spent three days marching smartly around being purposeful and organised in the blistering Maltese sun. So I spent a little time sleeping in a bit, wandering (or perhaps meandering) slowly around Valletta for Friday and Saturday. Went to the wedding on Friday evening and got tooken out to dinner on Sat. night.


That's the Saluting Battery. Those are the benches.

I gazed longingly across the harbour at the Three Cities, but really didn't have the energy to do much more than sit on the benches at the Saluting Battery, sipping my lemon Cisk and thinking, 'Save some for next time'.

Next morning, after elevating my foot and having a long sleep-in I felt on top of the world again and didn't want to just hang around Valletta again. The concierge at the British Hotel said I could get at least a taste of the harbour tour by taking the ferry across to Vittoriosa. So I cheerfully skipped off, only to discover that I'd missed the ferry by a minute. I was informed of this by two very wise-ened old chaps who were taking in the morning sunshine by the ferry slip and one of them said, "But don't worry, I can take you across in my boat. One-fifty." As if to reassure me, the other one said, "He can take you across. Only one-fifty." I agreed readily.

When I rounded the corner, my heart leaped. There was the most beautiful, old fashioned dghajsa one could possibly hope to see, equipped with tiny side benches and a suitably home-made sun shade. I sat down and held on. "You're used to boats..." the old guy said, since I had jumped in without waiting for a hand. "I grew up around them."

He cast off and we had possibly the best ten minutes of the whole trip.

"How old you think this boat?" he asked, patting the gunwales affectionately. Before I could guess, he said proudly, "A hundred, ten years. Survived bombing." All Maltese are in love with history.

He dropped me off at the very base of the Vittoriosa bastions where the sea had carved natural caves in the ancient yellow limestone. I gave him 2E and told him that he really ought to charge tourists more. He directed me to the church where there was a Mass starting in ten minutes.

I'm still kicking myself for not having bought new camera batteries for Sunday because you guys are going to love Birgu, where I met a nice young Scottish guy from Aberdeen who moved there and opened a wine bar with a cantina in the basement dating to the 8th century.

Next time.

(Pics coming.)



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Is this the Faith you're ready to die for?

Boston Franciscan parish friars hand out "Who am I to judge" t-shirts and buttons at Boston "gay pride" festival.

When contacted by concerned Catholics, Franciscans assured callers that they had "the full support of the archdiocese." The Archdiocese of Boston however, issued no public statement on this scandal. The closest thing to an official response was an e-mail sent by the Archdiocesan Cabinet Secretary for Parish Life and Leadership, the Very Rev. Kevin M. Sepe, who told one outraged Catholic:

'St. Anthony Shrine, although within the Archdiocese of Boston, is a parish of the Franciscan Order and so I encourage you to contact them directly with your questions and concerns. The Archdiocese has no knowledge of the intent of this initiative and is not associated with it. Thank you for your correspondence...'

And...

Contrary to Islam, Christianity showed the oldest age profile among the leading religious groups in 2011. And while the main reason for Christians being economically inactive was retirement, for Muslims economic inactivity was mainly because they were students, or because they were looking after the home or family.

Some argue that unlike Islam, which gives security to people, Christianity isn’t helping young Brits to survive on the violent streets of England.

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Is this the Faith you're ready to die for?

Nearly all gone: conquering jihadists are evicting or killing Mosul’s last Christians



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Is this the Faith you're ready to die for?

New theme.

People are dying for the Faith, dying for Christ, right now.

Is this that Faith? Would you give your life for this?



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Been in Malta for most of the week, and attended 3 Masses in Maltese. All greyheads, all receiving Communion standing, and on the hand... a general atmosphere of gloom pervading... very, very depressing.

More later.



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You can't kill people to solve your problems... or theirs

The peculiar British, utilitarianism-derived terror of "being a burden" is being exploited by the Death-peddlers.

As someone who was recently "a burden" on my loved ones, I can affirm that it made me a better person, more able to love and accept love from others, less interested in maintaining my white-knuckle grip on my own way in life.

The Brits are suffering from 200 years of philosophical and moral corruption that was visited on their culture by the secularist instinct that grew up like a cancer in the 18th century after the compromises and logical contradictions of the English Reformation failed to hold.



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A Victim of my own success...

Here's the problem with being a good cook. You look in the fridge and freezer, and discover you've got got zucchini, asparagus, little whole mushrooms, red onion, shrimps, cream and curry paste. You think, "Hmm... I'll just put those together and make an experiment. It probably won't work very well, but at least I'll be able to have a little bit of something before gym-time."

Putting them together to make a curry turns out to work magnificently, but then you think, curry's no fun without rice, so you make a bunch of tasty vietnamese rice noodles to go with it. In the end, you've made something you really want to eat.

Unfortunately you want to eat it so much that you pretty much eat all of it in one go, thus making futile your plans to go to the gym after a "light" lunch, because now all you want to do is have a little lie down.



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When people have worked together a long, long time...

Editor: Oh come on, this is fun!

Hilary: Sure, kinda like riding a 50 year-old roller coaster in an ex-Soviet satellite state. It's fun right up to the moment it decapitates you.



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