On that tiny spec in the middle of the Med the skies have cleared and the temperatures have started to soar.

The populace have started their annual transformation from washing pavements and low lying Escorts in villages afar, to rinsing boathouse verandas and dingies in bays and beaches around.

The land line hardly ever rings these days. So when it does there are always a few moments of hesitation as to whom the caller might be. When it rang at 9pm I did experience some apprehension. My concerns were more than justified when one of my closest cousins, sobbing heavily, announced that his elder sister had just passed away at the age of 59. What terrifying news and what do you say in such horrific circumstances.

Just the next day I learned on the morning news that one of my oldest friends who had achieved national fame had also met his demise, after having fought against a terrible illness for many years.

I stretched and I yawned as I grudgingly crept out of bed and made my way to the kitchen. As I entered I was hit with a wave of strong and heavenly aromas of freshly brewed coffee and slightly burned toast. The coffee machine gurgled and burped as its delicious dark liquid slowly filled the container below. Then the toaster snapped up sending the toast virtually flying. Those favourite smells in the morning which augur you well for the rest of the day.

My wife was slightly in a hurry, as she had errands to do and was already dressed to go out. As I approached her lovely made-up face for a good morning kiss, I caught a whiff of her favourite perfume, which had also long become mine. I breathed it in with intent. There’s nothing that can instinctively bind you more to your loved ones than the frangrance of the perfume they wear.

I went back to my bedroom to get dressed and as I opened the wardrobe I was immediately greeted by smells of soap and fabric softener and mild lavender and fresh linen. I stroked some new sheets, feeling their pleasing texture and enjoyed that smell of freshness they emitted.

Quite a difference, I reminisced, from my grandma’s old wooden wardrobe, which when creaked open used to slap you in the face with the pungent smell of moth balls, hidden in between those old, thick furry coats.

Into the bathroom I went, which had just been washed with that very distinctive smell of Dettol. There on the tiled floor still lied the bucket of murky water, with floorcloth inside, reeking of that most common of disinfectants.

On my way out I said bye to the children. Our daughter was preparing for school. As she was closing her satchel I got closer and I could instantly recognise those typical smells of new copybooks and eraser rubber, which reminded me too of my own school days from way back.

Last was the baby, who was barely awake. He smiled with those lovely innocent eyes as I reached out and slowly lifted him towards me. As I brought his little body next to mine I caught a whiff of that gorgeous baby smell, of milk and of talc and of creams and pure babiness, compelling me to stick my nose onto his sparsely haired head and very delicately kiss the soft spot of his open fontanelle, while filling my lungs with his sweet baby smell.

I finally left home and jumped into my brand new car, purposely sniffing at that inimitable odour that only the interior of a new vehicle can give. I even kept the windows shut for a while to get my fill of what somehow signifies luxury and opulence to me.

I stopped at the service station and once I got the pump going I was hit by that strong penetrating smell of petrol as it gurgled down into the tank. The fumes were so potent that after a while I had to slightly move my head away to get some fresh air.

As I drove along the Coast Road – before our moronic authorities built that horrible wall all along it which now ruins all sight and smell – I noticed that there was a rather big swell. Waves came crashing down onto the rocks below me, depositing sand and seaweed and foam. This generated huge whitish clouds of invigorating spray, laden with saltiness, iodine and seaweed scents.

That evening I decided to go for a short country walk in the fields, many of which had just been covered in manure. Intense musky odours of fresh dung emanated from all around me, which in spite of being somewhat overbearing, I cannot say I didn’t enjoy.

As I walked further I passed several fig trees giving off that distinctive Summer flavour which only fig trees can do. I approached and touched their coarse furry leaves and sniffed at my fingers for good measure.

Then I passed a large farmhouse with high walls all around. They were all covered with large creepers which were all in full bloom. There was honeysuckle and jasmine and stephanotis, all letting off lovely floral and sweet fragrances which graced anyone who walked past. You just couldn’t help taking in long deep breaths to regal yourself to the full.

On my way home I managed to dodge a small field which had just burnt in the Summer heat. Much of it was still smouldering with little plumes of smoke carrying whiffs of scorched burnt grass, burning my nose and hitting my lungs yet so pleasing in a rather odd way.

This contrasted sharply with the last villa I crossed where the luscious lawn was just being mowed. Hmm that green, chlorophyll smell of freshly cut grass in the air, accompanied by the loud buzzing sound of the relevant machinery hard at work.

I finally got home and settled down with a lovely glass of red wine. Its enchanting and complex bouquet of grapes and spice and berries filled my nose and my spirit with delight.

So I grabbed an old book which I couldn’t help sniff, to catch that musky, dusty and somewhat sweet smell of the brown old worn out pages. I then picked up a brand new colour magazine with its young aggressive adhesive odour jumping out of its glossy and shiny pages.

It suddenly started to rain after so many weeks of dry weather. So I couldn’t resist going outside in the garden to get great earthy whiffs of wet soil. It always reminds me of September and when school started again at the beginning of Autumn.

But it was getting late, so I blew out the candles and just lingered on to catch that special scent which they slowly let off into the room around, reminding me of churches and crypts and religious ceremonies, along with the incense that comes with that clicking chain sound.

Unfortunately I was diagnosed at a rather young age with a hiatus hernia. Although this is something rather bothersome, it is an ailment which you can learn to live with, provided that you observe a certain diet.

Basically you must avoid all foods which either are acidic, or which cause the stomach to produce too much acid. You also have to steer clear of foods which may cause reflux and particularly those which can irritate the oesophogus.

So it was no hot drinks, no fizzy drinks, no juices and no alcohol. No fruit or tomatoes, no onions or garlic, no aubergines or peppers. Nothing spicy, no sauces, no gravy and no pepper.

Quite a tall order you might think, especially if like me, you love such foods and drinks.

Like so many other Maltese families mine has a strong history of diabetes. My mum and most of her side of the family in fact passed away from direct complications of this terrible disease.

So after several years of diabetes limbo of sorts, when I was considered a pre-diabetic, a few years ago following a couple of rather alarming blood sugar level readings, I received the final verdict and was transferred from limbo straight down into hell!

So I was now strongly recommended to avoid all foods with a high sugar content such as all sweets and desserts, jam, honey, breakfast cereals etc. Carbohydrates too are to be avoided as these are transformed into sugar by the body. So there goes bread, cakes, biscuits, pastries, pastas, battered or breaded items and the like. Foods with excessive starch can also be harmful so preferably no potatoes and no rice.

Now one of the most common complications of diabetes is heart disease, from which my poor mother passed away and towards which I also have a tendency. So I was immediately told to avoid anything high in cholesterol such as eggs, all dairy, seafood and anything fatty such as lamb, pork, sausages, hams and preserves. Also no fried items either and certainly nothing deep fried. No oily foods either as these are all high in cholesterol.

This overall condition comes in a lovely big package which also includes hypertension. So no salt and nothing at all salty such as pickles, all canned foods, all packet foods, cured meats, smoked meats and fish. No olives, nothing in brine and no salted items whatsoever.

It was an ominous day when I finally decided to sit down and to attempt the impossible. To combine all lists and make one super list of all taboo items to truly see, based on my proud collection of ailments, which foods and beverages I can safely consume.

Once the list was compiled it was a perfect replica of a comprehensive guide to all existing food and drinks on earth. There seemed to be literally everything on it and what I had effectively done was simply to compile a list of everything. From a drinks point of view I was very literally left with water and nothing else.

I tried everything to cross check my list of forbidden foods with anything existing, until finally I managed to find something infinitely small and insignificant. Yet there was at least something tiny which was permitted and these were seeds and nuts.

Provided that they are not salted then they are of no effect to my hiatus hernia, they contain no sugar, no salt and no fat. I realized that from all of the possible foods on earth that these were the only ones left and which somehow figured in none of my lists.

So I stocked up nicely on these humble items and also imposed my little reserved kitchen cupboard space, specifically for these blessed permitted foods. And slowly but surely I started developing quite a taste for them and ate them more and more. In our recent visit to Dubai I even went as far as investing €75 in two packets of luxury nuts, so much had their perceived value in my miserable life increased.

Since a couple of months ago I started feeling a gradually increasing pain in my lower abdomen. It wasn’t appendicitis and it wasn’t a hernia either, so the docs suspected stones. However many tests later I was finally diagnosed not with stones but with diverticulitis, which is a painful condition of the intestines, to which their is no particular cure.

And now if you don’t believe me go and look this one up… When I asked the doctor what I could do to relieve it as no medication exists, he replied just drink plenty of water and please make sure to avoid seeds and nuts.