Sliema Creek, and Manoel Island Malta.

May I direct your attention to OutandAbout's blip. He bought my camera kit and now has two pristine Sigma Macro lenses. He is willing to GIVE one of these to any Blipper who would like one. Keeping it in the family of Blip Land. This is an extraordinarily generous offer. First come etc. 

Update. In the past four years it appears my vascular system within the brain has slowly but surely been blowing holes in itself. I have yet to see the memory people, that’s in two weeks time I think, so it would appear that my Googleyed diagnosis of Vascular Dementia is close to the mark. It would explain many of my bloody, no pun intended, annoying symptoms. No problems, we carry on!

My Blip today continues the saga of our time in Malta and a family link. The Garden fairy’s Grandfather, G’Pa Perkins, was a sailor during WW2, his ship and many many more would slip into Sliema Creek and head for Manoel Island to coal ship. This was a precarious time as the seabed was covered in submerged submarines trying to avoid German bombers during daylight hours, whilst coaling the ship was an easy target. They would load 1,200 tons of coal in approximately 5 hours. Each man onboard, junior officers included, donned scruff gear and each would carry his share of the 24,000 sacks of coal. Afterwards they would sit on their bucket of water and help each other get clean. Then the ship had to be cleaned to pristine condition, the dust got everywhere. 

The picture of ships is taken from the air of the Mediterranean Destroyer and Frigate Squadrons during the 60s. Next door in Grand Harbour, the Cruisers and aircraft carriers would have made an impressive sight. To go back to the main image, Sliema has not changed that much. In the top left hand corner is a bunch of trees, St Anne’s Square. The blonde bombshell and I would wander there from our abode, sit under the trees and have hot turkey sandwiches and coke for lunch. My mates would arrive, ogle the long legs of the bombshell, become tongue tied and jealous. Poor twisted bastards. 

I was the only family member, when we became married, who understood and admired, the rigid discipline of G’pa Perkins. He remained a smartly dressed, demanding man who loved his family and set them very high standards, of dress and behaviour. Consequently when he discovered Elaine was marrying a Booty he was overjoyed, we would sit and he would recount his past, just as I do. 

Thank you for all your kind comments and wishes yesterday, you really shouldn’t but please continue, it’s wonderful to feel as if someone on this planet cares. I jest. Nobody cares, not even the cat.