Six years ago, we were on a summer holiday with two other families and their teenagers spent the entire time discussing the looming Ordinary level examinations. At one point, my entirely bewildered daughter had come up to me: “Ma, what’s this ‘mad sack’ that they’re all the time talking about?”

It’s funny how time passes. We are at the stage in life where the most common word uttered in the house is Matsec with all the ‘mad sacks’ of stress, trepidation and rites of passage that it brings along with it.

And, to stay on the subject, I’d like to share a conversation we recently had at home specifically about the Matsec religion syllabus. At some point during fifth form, one of the topics covered in religion is the Christian family. The ‘nuclear family’ (first-time married mother and father plus children) is, of course, lauded when compared to the ‘reconstituted family’, particularly if this consists of divorced parents (divorce is a sin).

Needless to say, this jarred in the ears of my daughter because we are as blended as they come. But we had a chat about it: the syllabus is based on the Roman Catholic teachings and the rules of the Catholic club are what they are, the topics can’t be otherwise.

I think it’s good that young students learn about the ideal kind of family and, in an ideal world, we’d all be total ‘nuclears’ but, alas, the reality of life is something completely different. And students are parroting away stuff in order to pass the exam and not because they can understand it.

My daughter is lucky because the religion teacher is very down to earth and,  even though it’s beyond her remit, she tends to make reference to the modern-day context. The truth is that, when my daughter started school more than a decade ago, she and another boy were the only two children with separated parents in the whole grade. Now, that figure, sadly, has gone up to nearly half the grade.

Ideally, therefore, teenagers need to be offered another space to discuss family structures and relationships, away from the constraints of religion/sin/guilt and all the baggage that comes with it. I believe this is an investment in future marriages.

Let me explain. On Thursday, we marked the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women. Statistics in Malta and worldwide show that, in the main, violence takes place at home: the victim and the perpetrator are meant to be people who love each other. Often with the children looking on, absorbing the dynamics and gradually believing that this is the normal way to be.

At the very age before they embark on relationships themselves, teenage boys and girls need to be taught how to steer clear of toxic relationships and how not to be toxic themselves. PSCD lessons at school cover a lot of ground about life lessons.

Sexuality education classes are brilliant and students today know all about the effects of drugs and alcohol and cigarettes when they’re still in primary.

So far, no curriculum includes the emotional aspects of romantic relationships- Kristina Chetcuti

But, so far, no curriculum includes the emotional aspects of romantic relationships, which would include sessions on the difference between healthy and unhealthy relationships, what is acceptable and what is not and when to draw the line. These could not only save heartache but, possibly,  lives. There is no Matsec for this but, perhaps, this is the most important syllabus for life.

Over the year, I’ve often written about how I find Maltese winters a sheer torture and how, if I could, come winter, I would emigrate to an Australian summer. I can’t stand the fact that, sometimes, it’s warmer outside than inside and you don’t just feel the cold creeping up and eroding your bones – you even hear its evil laugh.

Over the decades, I’ve tried everything. Air conditioners, although ideal for heatwaves, I find suffocating in winter; gas heaters cause even more humidity; electric heaters make utility bills soar more than Bezos’s rocket; pellet stoves have that annoying hairdryer blowing sound, which never fades away. These last few years, I made peace with the cold by putting on skiing gear as soon as I got home and I walked about like a veritable Michelin woman.

This month, though, we’ve found our ‘Eureka!’ in the shape of a wood stove. A heavy metal stove, which took more than three fit men to carry. The mechanics are simple: you chuck in wood and light a fire like a boy scout and, voilà, you have warmth – lots of it. There’s only one pleasant sound, that of burning wood and the rest of the time you’re mesmerised by the flame.

There’s a certain joy to the whole process. Maybe because it’s what (wo)man has done for millennia? Life was pretty simple right up to a few hundred years ago. In the morning, the conversation would go something like: “Ug, I go get wood, you go get food.” And in the evening: “Ug, here is wood and here is food.” Maybe the lull of a wood stove takes us back to that simple life.

Our old house too has heaved a sigh of relief. Before it was wet, humid and miserable. Now it’s dry. It’s like it was suffering from a severe case of arthritis and it’s been given a life-saving shot in the core.

Bottom line: I happily prescribe the wood stove to anyone with a dread of Maltese winters.