Wild Purple Poppies
Appealing tucked away restaurants near by.
Old tiles spotted under my resting daughters bums.
Church corners and dead end alleys.
But my favourite of the weekend, was this..
Let me introduce Gracie
she is somewhere over seventy years old,
and a part of that old time in Malta...a glimpse of what life used to be like here ( she is one of two old women in our village who can be seen very slowly moving down the road selling bits and bobs from their own garden, from fresh garlic to artichokes) their home made carts complete with rusty old scales and even plastic bags! Gracie even had the old wooden caper cup (I have heard talk of it but had never seen one being used). That is the way you used to buy capers, by the wooden cup full. Her hands gnarled from arthritis but far more agile than I expected, her smile easy and genuine. I spotted her slowly walking up a very long hill, she stopped and we talked (a good chance to use my Maltese) I bought capers, lemons from her courtyard, fresh broad beans, eggs, a huge bunch of mint and home made pickled beets. I was amazed how much she had tucked into her small cart. She was selling also home made carob syrup (good with warm water for a sore throat).
The caper bucket
Now days most young people buy new apartments in more suburban areas and you find in the heart of some of the old villages a population of old people, sometimes only one or two left living in very dusty grand old houses, really struggling to maintain them. Could go on and on as regards this topic but I will end it here as the day is soon to start.
***The last term of teaching underway, Maltese and European history taking up all my spare time.
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