Recently in Familja Tieghi Category

On Saturday our baby girl turned six, yes you heard correctly, I said S-I-X!

 
This year Lucia wanted a cooking party. Ho, hum I wonder where that idea came from? Since we're in the process of renovating our old Victorian terrace which currently looks like a garage sale in a Middle Eastern war zone, I decided that it was probably best that we host her little cooking soiree at The Tiny Chef.


As you can see the tiny chefs had a wonderful time and thoroughly enjoyed mixing, stirring, rolling, baking, icing, decorating, eating, dancing and then some.

 
Hence, if you're at a loss as to what to do for your child's next birthday, then may I suggest you contact The Tiny Chef? The staff are friendly and professional and the space is both efficient and impressive. Also, their understanding and ability to cater to the needs of children with allergies is commendable.

Baby girl, if you happen to stumble across mama's blog in the years to come and find this post, know that as each day passes I marvel at all that you are. Your whimsical manner, depth of compassion, your contagious laughter and joyous spirit has changed our lives. You have given great meaning to life's journey and because of you I am a better person.

My sweet little Lucia kindly volunteered my services at school for Shrove Tuesday. So spare a thought for me tomorrow while I'm madly flipping pancakes for twenty eight ravenous six year olds.

I'm not sure what recipe I'll be using as the class teacher has assured me she has got 'everything under control', but if you're looking for something different come tuesday then maybe give these semolina pancakes a try.

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas! May the year ahead be filled with abundant joy, hope and new adventure.

We've had a glorious, sunny weekend here in Melbourne and the weather is starting to actually behave like Spring. We made the most of the sunshine today and headed into the city by tram so that the little people could post their letters to Santa.

Yesterday was my birthday and our seventeenth wedding anniversary. Although the journey has been incredibly rewarding and joyous, it has often been far from idyllic and at times it has been nothing short of potholed. So to mark this tremendous milestone, we thought that we should celebrate in style by having dinner in the city (sans children) and then stay overnight in a plush hotel.

As luck would have it, our trusty babysitter cancelled at the eleventh hour. Rather than pull the pin on our celebrations, we decided to take the kids with us. The hotel staff were incredibly accommodating and managed to organise an extra bed in our suite at such short notice and ensured that both our children felt incredibly welcomed.

Once at the hotel, Stephen kindly took his children for a swim in the hotels 20-metre lap pool whilst I treated myself to a luxurious bubble bath - in silence! Later that evening we all enjoyed a wonderful dinner together. Both Dante and Lucia were on their very best behaviour and several of the restaurant staff openly commented about how well mannered they were.

Rather than hit the town as planned, we decided to head back to our hotel room and watch an in-house movie. The thought of jumping into our pyjamas and snuggling into that king sized Heavenly® Bed with the promise of a 'sleep experience like no other' was a most welcome thought for one very tired Johnson clan.

Alas, at  2am we were suddenly woken by Dante's muffled moaning as he declared in his semi-conscious state that he 'wasn't feeling that good'. The next thing I remember hearing was Lucia shriek at the top of her lungs as her brother proceeded to hurl up his dinner all over the pristine 250 thread count, Egyptian cotton sheets.

There are so many things I take for granted on a daily basis - my health and good fortune to name a few. Often, it's only when I'm confronted with the injustice and prejudice that exists in the world, that I then stop and reflect upon the greatness in my life.

Hence, I was fortunate enough to be raised in the first world and just so happen to live in Australia - the 'lucky country'. I do not suffer political or religious discrimination, but rather I am encouraged to exercise my freedom of movement, expression and speech - daily. Furthermore, I have access to education, resources, and health care and am surrounded by countless opportunities.

I am blessed with abundance, my life is full and my cup overflows.

Last Friday Hoover came home from school waving this piece of paper in her hand. She was bursting with pride as she had just composed her first sentence, unaided. As I held the crumpled sheet of paper in my hand I was reminded of how fortunate I am to have received the gift of literacy. A skill I use daily and could not live without, but one I also take for granted.

I am thankful for many things in my life, but that which I am truly grateful for is my parent's choice to immigrate to this country so that their children could have greater choices in life. I value the great education I received at their expense and treasure the ability to read and write, because without this basic ability and gift I am powerless.

My daughter is now reaping the benefit of this choice and I have no doubt in my mind that she too will be powerful one day.

At the end of the long school/work week we all look forward to movie night at our house on Friday evenings. Hence, 'movie night' has become a much loved tradition that we all look forward and hold fast to.

After our weekly catch-up around the dinner table, we then slip into our most comfiest, cosiest pyjamas' and then regroup on the couch underneath the warmth of a shared blanket (in the colder months) to escape together for a few hours to the wonderful world of (more often than not) Disney.

This Friday we couldn't decide what movie to choose, so while the kids were trying to work out what to watch I quickly channel surfed to see if there was anything interesting on the ABC. Mid-surf Hoover got a brief glimpse of George on MasterChef and shouted 'look mama, a cooking show!'

Uffa!

If you follow me on twitter then you would understand my complete and utter disdain for MasterChef as I loathe reality TV with a vengence.

My dear Aunty Peppa was my Nanna's sister in-law and best friend. She was ninety-seven years old when she passed away last weekend and her funeral yesterday was one of the most moving I have ever attended. Her life was testimony to the incredible faith and unconditional love that she possessed and shared with all those who encountered her.

Josephine or 'Peppa' as she was affectionately referred to by those who loved her, lived a long life that was often filled with tragedy, heartache and disappointment. Yet, her steadfast companions in this life were faith, hope and courage.

In her ninety-seven years on this earth Peppa endured two world wars in Malta. Hence, considering that Malta was one of the most intensively bombed areas during the second world war you can then appreciate how terrifying this must have been for young Peppa. Also, at this time Peppa as a young teenager was compelled to raise her younger siblings, after her dear mother tragically passed away during childbirth.

She would then later fall in love, marry and have five children of her own. Peppa watched them grow and in turn marry and have children, as the cycle of life so faithfully continues. But with life also comes tragedy, and so Peppa had to endure what every mother dreads - the death of her own child.

I took Hoover down to Beaumaris this weekend so that she could spend some time with my aunt who also happens to be her godmother. Hoover was a little hesitant to start with as she doesn't get to see her aunt Carolina that often, but things quickly turned around once her great aunt suggested that we head down to Half Moon Bay for an ice cream.

When I reflect upon growing up Maltese in Melbourne in the late 70 and early 80's I can distinctly recall certain food memories with great fondness. Then there are a whole host of food memories from my childhood associated with my father's harebrained schemes and experimentations, which I prefer to bury and repress.