belgianwaffle

Archives for June 2016

Suspension of Disbelief


Posted in: Family, Mr. Waffle, Reading etc.

We watch a lot of Dr. Who in this house. The children and I quite like it. Mr. Waffle does not. The other night we watched the episode where a hospital disappears on earth and reappears on the moon.

There is a an annoying consultant character (so far so typecast) and at one stage in the action, he hauls out his binoculars to have a closer look at the action all round. “That’s very unlikely,” I said, “who has binoculars at work?” Mr. Waffle looked at me and asked sardonically, “Really, that is your only difficulty?” There’s only so far one’s disbelief can be suspended, it turns out and I had found my limits.

Felix Felicis


Posted in: Boys, Princess

The Princess has been enjoying herself of late. At the end of year prize-giving extravaganza at school she won the best student of her year and all round best student in the school. She read at the end of term mass. She has been re-selected for the student council next year. Her poem has featured in the annual school magazine. She has just got notification that her school tour next February will take her to Paris and Brussels [she is keen to go]. She has joined the games club; she was told to read the rules in advance and, being her, she did. She was therefore able to wipe the floor with the boys in the club who had not done so (she is their first female member) and, as she said happily, “I just kept throwing double sixes”.

A big parcel arrived at the door for her. It contained extensive Disney merchandise for the film “The Jungle Book”. As we looked at the anorak, the chair, the lamp, the torch, the water bottle, the poster and sundry other items, I asked, “Why on earth did you get this?” “Remember,” she said, “there was that “Jungle Book” competition in the library and Michael and I entered; I must have won. You had to say what kind of animal Baloo was. I didn’t know, actually, Michael told me.”

Her three month summer is shaping up nicely. She will spend a week in London with her saintly aunt and uncle and she is going on an exchange to Paris. One of her friends’ mothers, who is a saint, has said that she is going to try to devise an arts programme for her daughter and friends over the summer.

Meanwhile, we have booked her brothers into a sports camp for a week in July. They are feeling a little hard done by.

Weekends – Rounded up


Posted in: Dublin, Family, Ireland

We have had my niece’s communion. Looking at pictures of her Christening, we discovered to our horror that Mr. Waffle is her godfather. How many extra special presents has she got from her godfather to date in her young life? None as both he and I had completely forgotten that this was the case. I note that at one point in 2008 I was definitely aware of this but it seems to have slipped my mind in the interim. Well, we know now, I suppose. The following weekend, I also attended the school communion as Daniel was singing in the choir and he wanted me to stay and listen (and very good they were too). Nevertheless, I am a bit communioned out.

A couple of weeks ago, we went out to look at the bird sanctuary on Bull Island and took our binoculars and wellingtons. The children all enjoyed wading about the mudflats until, inevitably really, about half an hour after our arrival, one of them fell over and covered himself with that particularly gloopy, smelly mud which is typical of that kind of environment. As I tried to clean Michael off with a muddy sock rescued from the bottom of his mud-filled wellington, I realised that we had no option but to return home. We did.

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One weekend, we cycled for miles along the canal and saw a heron and, I think, a gannet.

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We cycled out along the seafront on Clontarf yesterday which was a moderately successful outing though slightly hair-raising in parts. It was nice on the sea front and in the park where there was segregated cycling provision. Otherwise not so much.

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Will Dublin ever get decent joined up cycling lanes? There are times when I slightly despair about how cyclist and pedestrian hostile the city is. I suppose it can only improve. Right?

Hoist with my own Petard


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

We have a French priest in the parish. After months of missing him, I finally got to chat to him in French one Sunday after mass. Since he was French, he was utterly indifferent and unsurprised by my knowledge of the French language but I felt a (probably sinful) sense of smugness.

Then a couple of weeks afterwards, the Princess and I met him in mufti on the street just after emerging from mass (which had been said by the parish priest not him, keep up there). He started chatting away to us in French and, I suppose, understandably enough, asked how mass was. “Fine, fine,” I said vaguely. “What were the readings?” he asked. Whatever hope I might have had of dredging up vague memories of the readings in English, I had none at all in French. An awkward silence followed. “How was the sermon?” he asked filling the gap. Alas, I had no idea and no recollection of that either. There’s a moral here somewhere, I feel.

Spreading her Wings


Posted in: Princess

The Princess flew to London alone this afternoon. Well, when I say alone, that is not entirely accurate. We booked her in as an unaccompanied minor with Cityjet (thank you City Jet for offering this service which is not readily available*). She tells me that she was accompanied by 8 different individuals from the moment she was entrusted to Avril in Dublin to when she was handed over to her aunt in London (on production of photo id). That’s some service, in fairness.

We spoke to her this evening from London; this was her first flight alone and a week will be the longest she has ever been away from home without us. She was accompanied on the flight and she is going to stay with her aunt so it is not entirely a journey into the unknown but an adventure all the same.

*Needless to say no favours were granted by Cityjet for this plug. Alas.

In entirely unrelated news, we were in Northern Ireland for the weekend and it was amazing*. Full details to follow in a later post. Hold your breath.

*No favours etc. More’s the pity.

Returned Safely to These Shores


Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Hodge, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess

Herself was returned to us last Wednesday after a wonderful week in London. Her aunt and uncle were very kind and she had all manner of treats and excitement including a trip to the ballet to see Swan Lake which she absolutely loved.

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Although the weather was a bit mixed.

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She was due to arrive back on Wednesday at 5 but her flight was delayed unbeknownst to me. I was stuck a bit late at work and rang Mr. Waffle to see whether our heroine had returned. “No,” he said, “and I am at the airport, so who is going to be home at 6.30 to relieve the childminder?” I flew home like the wind calling the childminder to tell her that I was going to be late. No answer. I rang the land line at home. Daniel answered.

Me: Hi sweetie, can I speak to K (childminder)?
Him: Yes, but do you want to know my news?
Me: Yes, of course, but can I speak to K first?
Him: It is interesting news.
Me: OK, sweetie, tell me your news first.
Him: When we came home from school the hall was full of blood and feathers.
Me: Oh God.
Him (with relish): Yes, and we found a dead pigeon in the corner of the drawing room.
Me (yelping): Oh God.
Him: Yes, and it’s still there.
Me: What??
Him: Yes, K has a phobia of birds (really, really is this a thing?). Michael and I locked the cat into the utility room. I hoovered up the feathers in the hall and Michael mopped up the blood. K showed us how to turn on the hoover from the kitchen. But we were too scared to deal with the body.
Me: OK, I’ll deal with it when I get home.

Return to the house. I readied myself with a shoe-box and a plastic bag. I went into the drawing room to see feathers, blood:

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and a corpse in the corner:

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I ran out again. Maybe not my finest hour [Daniel took the photo above]. Then the phone rang. It was Mr. Waffle. Herself had returned and they were wondering could they get a lift from the airport. Absolutely. I sped out, leaving the boys at home on corpse watch.

I picked Mr. Waffle and herself up outside the airport.

Me (to daughter): Welcome home my darling, did you miss us?
Herself: Um, no but I did have an amazing time.
Me (to husband): I have slightly unwelcome pigeon news.

On his return, he disposed of the corpse. What a man. Glad to have our firstborn back and despite herself, I think she might be a little glad too. And she brought us all presents.

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Is it true, Hodge, does nothing taste as good as thin feels?