Tuesday and Malta turns me to toast

So Tuesday came and the sun shone and shone and shone, it was a nice day , a very nice day. I had a lie in while the girls tried to eat the hotel out of house and home. I had a lazy shower and then I joined them. I found the largest glass I could find and tried to finish all the orange juice, its a 2 gallon container at least. The scrambled eggs were great, so I had a plate of them, looked like free range eggs, and tasted that way too. The girls ferried food to me and I really enjoyed it. From field to plate is a short distance here in Malta and my stomach willl testify to that.

Today's plan was to go and see the fishing village, JJ has laid plans for every day, she should have been in the red army. Today we were to take 2 buses, first to Valletta, then another to the fishing village. The buses are full to bursting point, but that is and adventure in itself. The 2nd bus goes through the countryside and you see a fair wack of the country, such as vinyards and all manner of stuff.

The girls wanted to go back to Valletta to buy Chinese souvenirs with Malta on for their English friends in school, but we said on the way back we'd do it. Now the fishing village, who's name I don't remember is really nice, its a working fishing port, lots of fishing folk and fishing boats. The girls really loved it as did we. It was there that I tried my first Maltese pint, Cisk is the brand, and it is very good, and I speak as a 12 pint a year  drinker.The girls didn't want a thing so I enjoyed my 2 pints and baked in the sun. As I sit here talking to you I and radiating like the sun, the whole of my face is red, as red as a tomato, the girls siad it was but I didn't believe them until I saw myself in the mirror whe we got home to the hotel. The girls really enjoy coming home as the cleaner has visited the room and left the stuffed toys sitting up on the bed.

We sampled the food at the sea place, JJ had her dish of fish and she loved it, much better that sea bass was her remark, and SHE is a fish person, she knows all about fish, ask anybody in the Fish Market back home in Birmingham, she is Mrs Fish. So full marks indeed for the food there. The girls shared a pizza and they loved that too, I had their slops, I still had room to eat after my own meal and the two pints. Eating must have taken 2 hours plus, the sea laps against the quay and you just enjoy the feeling, Malta is great so come on over.

We tried to visit another church, so I could keep up my conversation with God, and there were lots of green bunting everywhere, so I assumed it must have been a special day. In fact as we edged forward through the crowd we were told it was just a film as they were recreating the sad tale of a 12 year old child who had died in the sea. There was a stutue scene of a fisherman and a boy and a dog, but the bus came so we had to jump on it.

In Valetta we were able to get the final bits and pieces for the girls' friends back home. Finally it was 3rd time lucky and I could get into a church to say some prayers. Today actually is a special day it would have been my mother's birthday if she was still with us. The church was Saint Francis' the humble church, Annie could see the irony. The church had people doing prayers led by a woman on a mike, I couldn't tell if it was the Rosary or some other prayers, I don't speak Maltese after all.

Then we came home, and I made sure I had the hot water first, revenge is hot water and hogging the bathroom. We also enjoyed Magnum icecream, its so nice on a hot day. My nephew back in Birmingham told us it was still miserable back there, and so our day ended. Apart from me coming down  here to write it up. I must remember to buy a hat tomorrow.

Monday in Malta

Monday in Malta (c)
By
Michael Casey

Sunday night we all felt as if we were still moving as we slept, with a jigging wife beside me that was true, some people just don't stop moving even when asleep. So we got up early and attacked the food, gallons of juice and loads of bacon and bread, lovely bread. Kiwi fruit too and tomatoes to make it more healthy, but the kids didn't want what they had on the plate so I had to indulge even more. Maybe I'll add 3 kilos in the week we are here. It is a holiday after all. The weather was nice too, warm and no need for a coat, just enjoy the weather.

After our feeding of the five thousand just for the 3 of us we went back to the room, JJ was still stretching, so we left her to it and went to have a look at the roof top pool . Our girls enjoy swimming so a pool was a selling point, eagerly they got into their costumes, they had them under their clothes to be exact. Annie tested the waters, only it was far too cold for them, that was a disapointment, so they put their clothes back on, and then had a look at the view. From the roof, you could see the sea, far and wide the sea was a sight to see, they took a few snaps then downstairs we went.

JJ was having her breakfast now, she had slumbered and now was ready for food, she persuaded the chef to make an omelete for her. She was really enjoying, so I went and bought a razor, but no shaving cream. Then I proceeded to cut my throat, I always do without the shaving cream, blood everywhere, just like a slasher film. Once I stemed the flow I went to  collect JJ, we were ready to go out now. A haircut was needed, so we crossed a busy road to get to the barbars only it was closed, so we crossed back again like stupid drunks without satnav, and walked straight into another barbars. The lady got rid of the Old English Sheepdog in me and turned me into George Clooney, ok not Clooney but Michael Douglas, ok I'll be honest into Jack Nicolson, I have the ray bans after all. Ok I'll be really honest honest, into Father Christmas before he grows his heair and beard for Christmas.

Now my hair is super super white, and I'm cleanshaven with a cut throat. We then walked down the road looking for photo opportunities, we found a fisherman repairing the nets with a needle and using his feet to hold out the net as he sewed it. Very Biblical, but my old Uncle Patrick no doubt did the same back in Comane Lower Kerry Ireland. And seeing as my fear of flying has returned me to my closeness to prayer I'm sure the Good Lord himself will approve.

Next we jumped on the bus Gus, no Paul Simon in't here, but its a good line. Buses in Malta are the bendy bus variety and they have something in common with Indian trains, they are very very overcrowded, but it was an experience in itself. We got to Valetta and as I am drinking loads of bottled water, you cannot drink tap water here. So I went in search of a toilet, I could say in search of a John, but English readers will be asking who is this John and what is he doing in Malta. So I asked a group of Somalis where the John, sorry I mean toilet was. Now for me this is a surreal experience as I have taught Somalis English, so to meet a crowd of Somalis in Malta was a surprise.

Pottering around the girls found presents for friends back at school, the highlight being hand made to order braclets with the name included. For me I always pop into a church and say a prayer, insurance policy and belief combined, I hope that God really does have a sense of humour or I am in deep do do. Only I was told by a stern woman at St John's Cathedral that I could not come in and pray but I had to go around the corner and go in that way, and guess what the cathedral had been turned into a MUseum. I wanted to puke, I really hate that. A church is for Praying IN.

So we went into a restaurant instead just down the road, a very posh one open 170years, I forget the name on purpose but their is only one such restaurant in Valetta. Now there the ceiling reminds you of the Cistine Chapel such is the ornate decoration. Now my bone to pick with the retaurant was the forgot us and it took over 20mins to be served. I counted it down and I told JJ I'd walk at 20 mins. Remember I used to work in a 4star hotel and I know how to deliver customer service. In our hotel if anybody crossed the threashold within 20 seconds I had spokend to them and stared to give them what they wanted. So 20 mins and no service is TERRIBLE. On the good side once we got the food it was very good, and yest they were very busy but the people sat next to us did get served first, and they arrived after us.

Back home as the girls call our hotel, we have the fight for the shower, why do girls want to wash their hair so much? I've been to the shop for crunchies and banana flavour milk shake and more milk too. So I'm content. I did buy a present for myself too, some Deep Heat as I've pulled a muscle in my leg. So in one day, I've been shaved and shawn and sprayed. Night Night.

**** sorry for any mistakes I've just dashed this off.

Malta Holiday

Today we started my 1st holiday in 5 years, or for 4 years for my girls, so I'm in a happy mood, though getting here was another story. You see I am scared of flying, scared of heights and even more afraid of being up in the air. The girls were all excited and had packed their bags 10 days ago, me I packed two days before and the wife the night before.
Its a nice holidays because we've missed a few holidays, as have millions of people, but its even nicer as the wife is paying. I have promised the girls some pocket money and gave it to them before we flew. The alarms clocks all went off this morning, echoing not once but twice or even thrice over. Anni went down stairs at 5.15am and fixed breakfast for herself and Eve, then she left her phone on vibrate as they went up stair to change. The vibrations on the breakfast bar woke me up.
I had the last slice of bread as my breakfast with green tea, its supposed to be good for me, then I switched the gas and water off, as everybody should do, I can even remember my dad doing this 45 years ago, and no I'm not 100 years old, I just have total recall for family things, what I had for breakfst i won't remember, except for the toast   this morning.
The taxi was early and once we found the anchor points for the seat belts we were away. Once checked in we set off for breakfast, coffe and croisants. On the way to the bistro I sampled a few of the perfumes, so I must have smelt like a bit of a harlot once we got on the first plane. And yes I did say 1sy plane. We are lazy we don't want to gho down to London, so we fly from home in Birmingham and then change in Frankfurt to get us to Malta. Now I don't know about you but my priest will be pleased when I say I pray like a convery when I get on a plane. Please Jesus and Sweet Jesus are constant words of fear, and love on my lips.  On the plane I saif to the man sat next to me, "if I suddenly hold your hand then its because I afraid of planes" He laughed but when I grabbed his hand and held on for dear life, till blood poured from him, then he realised the truth. Once airbourne, my fear evaporated because food is coming my way. As for the stranger he rang to the toilet and never appeared again, would you?
The flight  to Franfurt is only an hour, but the airport is so big that you have to get on a bus to take you to the terminal, so its like a  school day out, then once inside you zig and you zag to get to the connecting flight. 2.30hours to Malta, with Eve asking "are we there  yet" copying donkey in Shrek. And reassuring me by saying " dad we won't die", my prayer rate must have broken Guinness Book of Records.God was pleased to hear from me, I'm sure he smiled, and lets hope I keep up my prayers, my constant prayers.
In Malta a nice taxi man took us to the hotel, a good 4star which we got on Expedia. Once we dumped the bags me and Annie went looking for the supermarket, which believe it or not is 3 floors underground, under the Hilton, yes really. We came back with bread can cheese and ham which was for sandwiches. JJ wanted Chinese food of course, so we went out and found a sushi bar, where she had beef soup. I had to buy some milk too, as a meal without milk is no good, we also got banana milk shake for the girls, though I ended up drinking most of it.
The it was shower time for the family, only I was last, so I got the manky towel and the cold water as tey must have emptied the tank, but what do you expect when you have 3 girls. But I had prayed that I'd be a better person during my flying prayers, so I accepted my cold shower. Now I'm down here writing this blog in Malta, so I hope you like it. I did lose my Facebook earlier but I'll try that again in a few minutes, FB knows I'm not in Birmingham, so  I'll see if I can post this to FB.
In the morning we'll have as much orange juice and bread as we can because its paid for, Malta doesn't seem to be as cheap as we thought it would be. I have to find as barbar as I look like an Old English Sheep Dog at the moment, I need a shave too, but at least God doesn't mind how I look, why, because we are talking, seriously talking again, so welcome home to Malta.

What is his worth?

What is his worth?(c)

By Michael Casey

“What is his worth?” asked the King.

“He is  a she my Lord,”  replied the servant  as he removed the hat to reveal a woman’s face.

“How long has she been dead?” asked the King.

“Her body is still warm,  sire, ” replied the servant.

“But what is her worth, she was just a woman.” continued the King.

“ She suckled you when you were born, as your  mother the Queen was dry,” replied the servant.

“I don’t remember that,” replied the King.

“ It was  her who taught you to read, it was her who taught you Latin and the sciences.”

“So she was of  some service,” mused the King.

“ She  hid you when the castle was besieged, she dressed you as a little girl, she saved your young life,” continued the servant.

“So she was of some service,” mused the King.

“She ate the poison that was meant for you,” continued the servant.

“So she was of some service,” muttered the King.

“She cared for the King, your father in his last years, when his mind was gone, it was her who helped him keep his dignity,”   the servant said.

“So she was of some service,” muttered the King.

“She held your mother’s hand,  the Queen’s hand, during her dying days, while  you were away at war.” the servant added.

“So she was of some service,” spoke the King.

“She saved your son and heir, when he refused to come into this world naturally,  it was she who cut him out. It was she who saved you wife, the Queen too. It was she.”

“So she was of some service,”  spoke the King

“It was she who taught your son and heir how to read, it was she who taught him Latin and the Sciences,” continued the servant.

“So she was of some service,” spoke the King.

“I was she who saved your daughter’s  life, the Princess’s life when she fell in the river,” continued the servant.

“So she was of some service,” spoke the King.

“She did many more services for you Sire, too many too recount,” said the servant

The King looked down at the crumpled figure  of the old woman before him,  all these things this little woman, this mere woman had done. Now the memories came back to him. “What was his  worth” he had asked. But now, but now he knew,  this little old woman, crumpled up in death had  been a good and faithful servant. And he, and he, he had not had the eyes to see.

The King kneelt down and kissed her still warm cheek.

“Let he be buried in a place of honour, for I know her  worth”

Just back from Good Friday Service

Just back from Good Friday Service©

By Michael Casey

Just back from Good Friday Service. We had the Shona choir there too. On Good Friday you go up and kiss Jesus's feet on the crucifix. When I got back  to my seat the Cantor-like singing finished and  the Shona choir kicked in. There is something very special about Shona singing, it goes straight to my heart and  brings tears to my eyes. It really is beyond words, as I watched the rest of the congregation  file up and kiss Jesus's feet all I could feel was raw emotion, was it musical Faith that was touching my heart and soul. I was being reminded just how Faith should be by these Shona singers. Afterwards you have communion, again we had more Shona singing  after the traditional  singing. Again their  Faith, their Shona Faith rocked me. It was not full force Shona singing as  it is Good Friday, I imagine the full force will be saved for Sunday, Easter Sunday. It was more than powerful enough for me today. I was reminded where my Faith is, and I could compare it to  the Shona, Lord grant me more Faith is all I can say.  We finished with a rousing traditional hymn. I'm looking forward to Easter Sunday, then more Faith, Hope and Love can wash over me. For Christ is Risen. Christos Aneste

Cheese and Chorizo

Cheese and Chorizo ©

By Michael Casey

The thing about girls is that they steal your stuff, you think they are nice and sweet smelling, but they are not. If they get up before you they’ll raid your side of the fridge and eat your cheese and chorizo. Cheese and chorizo on toast, with hot chocolate to follow, this is how your daughters treat you. This is how my girls treat me.

Yesterday mum bought biscuits, and did she share them? NO. The girls got some but I got none. They were  the ones I really like, its always the ones you really like. I looked high and low, just like an Ah Ha song, but nothing. JJ the wife just laughed at me as I went from pillar to post looking for a biscuit, the Tunnock ones. See this is how the 3 girls in my life treat me, I am biscuitless. Finally after much derision my small daughter showed me  where the biscuits were, a new hiding place, that’s why I could not find them. So I was victorious, I sneaked a biscuit into my pocket and slipped away to eat it in peace.

Shoes are a big thing, so our small daughter walks around the house in mum’s shoes, mine are too big so thankfully they are left alone. However having two daughters who like Textiles, which is the fancy word from school for sewing and making things. If they like textiles then your clothes are not safe, they drag a shirt or two out of the wardrobe and say they want to turn it into something. Jumpers are not safe either, they can cut them down to make a dress  or even a handbag. And as for needles, it’s like having a porcupine in the family, DANGER. You only realise that after you have sat on a needle or two, the wife just says its free acupuncture, no need to asked Dr Hu to pay us a visit, and yes he really is Dr Hu, not Dr Who, but Dr Hu.

Now that our 11year old is 5feet tall, as big as mum, she wants to wear her clothes, but you can imagine what kind of clothes a Shanghai girl wears. So there is debate in Chinese, I cannot understand a word, but SANINGONGA is heard quite often which means no. Which also means my girls, our girls will return to steal from my wardrobe again. In a way it’s like having moths, but instead of holes in your clothes, entire items just disappear. BUT its not just the girls, its mum too, she’ll decide that the Fashion Police would not like this item or that item, so its disappears. When do I find out? Never, or nearly never, until I walk past a charity shop and see a tent sized item in the window, it’s my clothes.

So if you want to keep the clothes on your back, don’t have daughters. If  you want your favourite food safe in your side of the fridge, the none Chinese side of the fridge, then don’t have daughters. If you want to save your pennies, don’t have a Shanghai wife. But then life would be boring, just make sure you look before you sit.

Give us a job I can do that

Give Us a Job I Can Do That©

By Michael Casey

The BBC are closing tv centre and moving on to new premises, so stars are all nostalgic, and giving a swipe at the new management classes.  John Cleese says they have no experience of comedy, so really they cannot be trusted.

This made me think, what is comedy? As I speak a sample chapter of  Tears  for a   Butcher my 6^th book has gained 9000 views on funny or die. So why do folks in America like chapter one so much? I wish I knew, I suppose it should inspire me to finish writing it.

You try and explain what you are writing by comparing it to this by comparing it to that, in the hope what you say connects enough so people want to read your rubbish. Really your rubbish is more cherished than your old grannie, but you just want to get something published, in ink or in cyberspace.

Yes this piece will appeal to a Lesbian audience, of course a Jewish audience will take it to their hearts. As for a Christian audience, they’ll say it’s a ma and pa book, and as far as alcoholics or should I say journalists go, they will just lap it up, just as they do their beer.

And is it all PC, as it must be nowadays, of course it is, the Law Society will swear by it. So that covers all the bases, all kinds of everything as Dana would sing, all kinds of everything remind you of Michael Casey and his writing.

You feel like Bod Geldof trying to screw the music industry into doing the right thing. Only you just want them to spare 90seconds of their life to change your life. 7 seconds away was a song, but now for you its 90seconds that you need. If only they read one thing then  they’ll  read another, and you’ll or I’ll get published or get that column in the paper online or in print, I just don’t care.

So you analyse each item and try and think how suitable is this for Lesbians, will Jews like this, will a boring broadsheet like that? As a concierge I had just seconds to hit the right pitch, to try and ease in with the next guest, so they felt welcomed and at home. I was very good then, but now all they see are my words on paper or rather words on a screen. If I were still a concierge I could see their face, I could read their body language, back then I could do it in 20seconds. But what of now?  I’m a writer now I have to put a picture in their mind without them seeing me as a fat Lee Evans in a tight suit, just by my very words I have to impress.

In the end I can only be myself, I say my writing is like a bus, for everybody, omnibus.