Sunday is a Tea Day

Some people hold to the idea that the way the day starts is an indication of how the rest of their 24 hours will evolve. If the day starts well, everything will be fine, if however you get out of bed on the wrong foot, if your car crashes on the way to work, if you find a dead cat in your yard, or spill mustard all down your freshly pressed white blouse… then the rest of the day will ‘obviously’ be a no-no.

I do not really think that’s true.

BUT there is one exception.

I never have breakfast in the morning. I never did for as long as I can remember. It’s not how I was raised. Mornings were always rushed breathless affairs. There were always teeth to be brushed, clothes to be worn hurriedly before the school bus arrived, and since I always preferred sleep to food, mornings were always calculated to maximize that. When I was a child and then a teen, I always slept as much as possible and then had 20 minutes at most to freshen up and dress before heading out. And that has not changed today.

Pic Source: blog.core-ed

I start work very early. At 6.45am to be specific. Waking up an hour before that means I have 30 minutes to shower, do my face, and get dressed before hitting the road, and there isn’t time for breakfast or even for drinking something hot, during those 30 minutes of panic.

That changes once I actually arrive at work, since I am always the first one to get there. I hang my bag and my jacket, switch on my pc, arrange my stuff just so, and then, and only then, take five minutes to enjoy a good cup of ‘wake-me-up’ coffee. Of course, it’s only after the second cup, an hour or so later, that my foggy brain actually starts perking up a bit. But it’s a start.

Pic Source: commercialcafe.com

Starting my day with coffee means it’s going to be a busy, practical PRODUCTIVE kind of day. It means I mean business. That I know I have a lot of stuff to do, and that I’m absolutely going to dig in and do it to the best of my abilities. And this is how I start most of my days – from Monday to Saturday to be precise. I do not work on Saturdays. Not at my job at least. However having your own home also means having chores and household duties, which all tend to pile up during the week, and which therefore have to be tackled on Saturdays.

So yes, I still get up pretty early on the first day of the weekend. I drink my coffee, and start polishing furniture, (trying to) polish mirrors, tackle those bathrooms (because unfortunately, they never get clean by themselves) and wash the floors. Meanwhile, my other half takes care of the laundry and goes to the store to buy bread, milk, eggs, etc. My second cup of coffee usually sees me cooking lunch.

And then… Sunday comes round.

Blessed Sunday when there is no job to go to, no chores to do, no housework to finish, and (usually) nothing in particular to worry about or rush towards.

Pic Source: rebloggy.com

Sunday is a tea day.

I wake up late. My so brings me tea in bed. I sip it slowly while I peruse social media, then I go shower, emerge sleepily and softly, look around me, happily confirming the fact that I AM FREE FOR THE DAY. TOTALLY FREE! Free to go out and enjoy myself with friends, free to indulge in a solo swim if I want to, free for a kiss and a cuddle (or two) with my beloved hunk. Most importantly, free to READ, CHILL and DO NOTHING ELSE for hours and hours at a time.

Oh yes, Sunday is definitely a tea day. The only thing I need to worry about, is whether to dunk my biscuit or just eat it.

Pic Source: greeting-day

Maltese Men and how to Improve them

As I can almost feel most readers fuming while reading the title of this article, first of all let me say that I love Maltese men. Ok, I am in love with ONE Maltese man in particular, however when looking at the masculine half of the population as a whole, one must really admit that while there are many men who contribute actively to all aspects of society with a number of variegated talents and achievements, there are also those who seem to be deficient when it comes to simple things such as cleanliness and physical health.

No one expects all men to be studs, and while one cannot but appreciate the random Maltese beefcake hanging at the gym, or the red-blooded stallion lounging at the beach, one also cannot help but look fondly at the robust ‘normal’ Maltese male.

Different people have diverse body-types of course, and I thank all the gods for variety, else life would be infinitely boring. However SOME things apply to everyone. Young, old, slim, hefty, energetic, lazy, optimist, pessimist – whichever of these you are it is important to value and make the best of yourself, instead of abandoning both mind and body and retreating from the world to the point of becoming an affliction to those around you.

There he sits in front of the local pastizzerija, with his cuddly beer-belly and a hairy torso barely confined by his semi-transparent abanderado vest, trying vainly to muffle a number of barely-stifled belches. Sometimes, a couple of long thick yellowish toe-nails hang out from his too-small flip-flops, while wisps of hair waive out of his carefully styled comb-over, as he tries to smooth-over the wind-disarrayed pages of the local newspaper. Stupefied (too much Cisk), he glares belligerently at a honking lorry across the street, while staking a claim for his friend’s subaru by placing one of the pub’s plastic chairs in an emptied parking space nearby (even though said friend probably won’t be arriving within the next couple of hours).

Much as we love our local Onslows (and I repeat, yes, I know that many Maltese men do not fit into this category… but we really have to admit that many do), most of them could really do with a few tips.

  • Cleanliness is not an option – no matter how good-looking, sexy, or rich you are, your Gucci sunglasses and double-breasted suit won’t do much to hide the obnoxious smells coming from your aromatic armpits. Especially if we can spot any wettish patches of sweat as well. So please, for the love of God, DO shower at least once (or twice, or three times) a day. Deodorants are your friends too.
  • All the perfumes in the world – while using a perfume or deodorant is good, going overboard and spraying a different scent every other hour never did any miracles in terms of attraction. And our nostrils don’t appreciate it either. Especially in confined spaces such as elevators, cars and buses. So, everything in moderation.
  • Trim and clean your nails – regularly
  • This also goes for random body hair. Including hair coming out of orifices such as ears and nostrils. And no, not just in summer please.
Image Source: Shutterstock
  • ‘Casual’ clothes – it is one thing to go to the supermarket wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, or a pair of shorts and a thin shirt, and quite another to saunter to the cashier in just your skin-tight swimming trunks and a smile. Some clothes are worn at the beach, others are worn in the comfort of one’s own home, wearing them in other settings is, in most cases, highly inappropriate.
  • Jewellery – As in the case of perfume, too much jewellery tends to convey a sense of ‘hamallu’ thuggishness which, I’m sure, is not what most men have in mind when they put on their thick chain-necklace, large cross pendant, four rattling stainless steel bracelets and glammish heavy rings (at least three on each hand). But seriously… no. Just… no.
Geoffrey Hughes as Onslow from ‘Keeping Up Appearances’

I could go on and on (for example about drinking ad nauseum in kazini (band clubs) at 2pm, endless glasses of darkish tea left on the pavement in front of said kazini, raucous echoing laughter at some poor foreigner’s expense at the local festa, the half-smirk, half-hopeful look which accompanies every ‘aw lilly‘, bad driving and parking etiquette, etc)… but honestly, do I need to? I bet you can picture what I’m writing about as clear as day yourself…

We live (supposedly) in a civilized society, where we must at least agree to conform to a number of guidelines regarding appropriate behavior, in order for us to co-exist with the minimum of hassles possible. Freedom is beautiful, needful and individually enriching (though personally I can’t understand what’s so ‘enriching’ about overly-long toe-nails) however some things are best left to the imagination.

P.S And if you think targeting just males is unfair, don’t worry, another blogpost tackling the female half of the population will be forthcoming in the near future!