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Archive for November, 2012

Testing my Readership: Is There Anybody Out There?

30 November, 2012 at 10:14 pm by belgianwaffle

Recently, I ran into a friend who lives abroad and who is a faithful reader of my blog. My own brother when I asked him whether he read it said, “I only look at it for the pictures, really”. [Does this make it the opposite to Playboy?]

I found myself wondering are there more people reading my blog who I know in real life or more people who I wouldn’t recognise if I passed them in the street.

Would you like to identify yourself as known or unknown in the comments? Is this an unashamed plea for comments after a month of blogging? Could be, I suppose.

Are we glad the whole NaBloPoMo is over for another year? All together now, “Oh yes, we are!” Lord, is it pantomime season already?


29 November, 2012 at 12:46 am by belgianwaffle

My brother stayed with us on Saturday night. I stayed up until midnight arguing with him about the economy. Then I put him on the floor in a sleeping bag. During the night the air mattress deflated. The cat sat on his head. He asked whether there could have been two cats in the room. There could have been; the neighbour’s cat has worked out how the cat flap works. At 7, the cat began miaowing loudly and insistently for her breakfast. At 7.10 she was joined by Michael who got his breakfast and ate it beside his uncle’s inert body. When I came down at 9.30, I told my brother he had to get up as we were going out at 10.30 and if he wanted a lift, he would have to be ready. About 10.20, he said that he might just let us go and walk into town by himself later.

Shortly afterwards, I was speaking to my sister and asked her whether she had been speaking to my brother since his stay. “Did he say anything?” I asked. “Only that the sooner you got a new house, the better.”

Cultural Differences

28 November, 2012 at 10:54 pm by belgianwaffle

It is the end of GAA training until after Christmas. The young men from the under 8s are invited to a Christmas party. Last Saturday was the deadline for paying for the party. I brought my money dutifully. Another mother whom I know from our time soldiering together on the side of the pitch arrived rather late and handed over her money and appeared to be scurrying away again. “Are you off already?” I asked in surprise. “Yes,” she said, “[the GAA under 8 boy] and his sister are both sick in bed.” And off she went, looking quite harassed. When I related this to Mr. Waffle we both marvelled at the trouble that she had gone to and as one said, “Of course, she’s English.” Later in the week the inevitable email arrived: 57 boys have been signed up for the party but only 36 have paid, can the others bring their money on the day?

Do You Find this Surprising?

27 November, 2012 at 9:56 pm by belgianwaffle

From a review of “Gonta” by Alex Hijmans in the Irish Times – “This first collection of short stories in Irish by the multilingual Dutchman Alex Hijmans is set in Salvador, in Brazil, where he lives.”

Mr. and Mrs. Didactic Take Their Children to Town

26 November, 2012 at 10:26 pm by belgianwaffle

On Sunday morning, we went to see “Ernest et Célestine”:

It was lovely. However, the IFI, in it’s wisdom not only had subtitles but had the sound slightly lowered and someone reading out the subtitles in English. I found this approach deeply unsatisfactory. Looking around the cinema, it seemed to me that the vast majority of the young patrons were either francophone or able to read. While it was undoubtedly a good approach for the small minority who were unable to read or speak French, it ruined it for everyone else. It’s actually surprisingly hard to concentrate on a film when it is in French with English subtitles which are read aloud.

In the row behind us there was a woman with her 11 grandchildren. With great fanfare each of them received sweets of some kind. One grandchild was sent to the Spar to get extra bottles of water to carry them through the 90 minutes of the film. Our lot, seeing the largesse being distributed at great length in the row behind asked whether they were going to get anything. “No, it’s 11 in the morning,” I said tartly. To be fair to them, they accepted this despite the ongoing distribution of bounty in the row behind for the duration of the film. Bah, humbug, I know.

After lunch in Milano’s – the excitement – we went off to see the launch of Bliain na Gaeilge. This was something of a damp squib. A cold nasty rain was raining and the Irish dancers and traditional musicians were huddled under a small awning. A number of young people were speaking Irish enthusiastically and the children spoke Irish for long enough to get the following: their faces painted and a balloon, notebook, pen and highlighter each. They were touchingly delighted by their haul of free goodies. We decided not to wait to see the Lord Mayor and battled driving wind and cold rain back to the car. Honestly, the children love it really.


25 November, 2012 at 11:54 pm by belgianwaffle

Horrid Henry has a game that he plays with his friends that is modelled on Monopoly. It’s called Gotcha and features dragons’ lairs instead of streets and rubies instead of money but the principles are similar. In an ill-fated moment of inspiration, Mr. Waffle suggested to the boys that he and they might make Gotcha themselves and, with the aid of pictures printed out from the internet, an old packet of Rice Krispies and a Pritt stick, they did.

They, therefore, successfully created a game even duller than Monopoly which one or other of the boys always wants to play but never both together. Mr. Waffle and I have put in many unhappy hours on the Gotcha board. Yesterday afternoon we stayed at home, the weather was inclement. Daniel tired of the rugby on the television and begged to play Gotcha instead so he and I did so. If I never play Gotcha again, it won’t be too soon.

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We’re All Going to the Zoo Tomorrow

24 November, 2012 at 10:02 pm by belgianwaffle

When I was young, my mother bought a season ticket to Fota. Every Sunday, she would say, “Will we go to Fota?” And every Sunday, we would groan, “Do we have to?” To be fair, I think the wildlife park may not have opened at that point and we were being asked to visit the arboretum and gardens rather than exotic wildlife every Saturday, so you can see why it might be unappealing.

A part of me knew that buying a season ticket to Dublin Zoo would see me repeat my mother’s experience and so it is. Now the prospect of a trip to the zoo is greeted with sounds of horrified protest. We’ve only been twice since I got the ticket but something about being able to get in free fills parents with enthusiasm and fills children with an equal and opposite measure of disgust. They don’t actually mind it once they get there, it’s the prospect of going there that fills them with dread. Look, have a picture from the zoo, why don’t you?

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Are we all glad that NaBloPoMo is almost over?


23 November, 2012 at 9:54 pm by belgianwaffle

Michael came into our bedroom this morning at 4.23 fully dressed in his school uniform. “I’m ready to go to school,” he announced happily. I lured him into our bed where he chatted merrily. “Would you like to take off your school uniform and put your pyjamas back on?” I asked hopefully. He did not fancy this. Eventually he fell back asleep, fully clothed (including tie, people) and in the morning we got him up and sent him off to school in his slept in uniform. Look, don’t judge, he got to change out of it again at 4 in the afternoon. Sigh.

Nature or Nurture?

22 November, 2012 at 10:59 pm by belgianwaffle

My sister-in-law is half Italian. She was born and grew up in Dublin and aside from looking a bit exotic and dressing beautifully she seems entirely local. The other night over dinner we fell to discussing clothes. I asked her whether she ironed her jeans. She does. And she seemed genuinely appalled that there are people who don’t. Gentle reader, do you iron your jeans?

Weekend Round-Up

21 November, 2012 at 11:55 pm by belgianwaffle

The weekend was filled with excitement. Mr. Waffle’s sister came home from London with her fiancé [the man my children are calling Pruncle – short for pre-uncle obviously] and we all got to congratulate them and admire the ring. Although many details in relation to the wedding remain unsettled, the role of the flower girls has been discussed at considerable length and is the source of great joy to herself. Upon my asking Pruncle whether they intended to have lots of cousins at the wedding, he said “Well, I have no cousins, my parents are both only children.” He then cast a slightly nervous glance around the teeming masses of people in the room and said, “All this is quite new to me.” And then he had to play football in the garden for ages which was both virtuous and, I suspect exhausting. When driving home, I commented to the children how odd it was that both of Pruncle’s parents were only children. Michael was particularly fascinated by this and it was only when he asked why Pruncle’s parents weren’t grown-ups that I realised why.

On Sunday, Daniel really got the hang of cycling and is able to start by himself often – though not always.

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The Princess is now an old hand at her prayers of the faithful at mass and she loves it. At the start of mass, five children were brought up for a first annointing – a new ceremony (well post the baptism of my children anyhow) which extends the baptism process over two Sundays. “This will take forever,” I muttered bitterly. Michael, of all people, said, “Mummy, don’t be mean, it’s nice to see new children being welcomed into the church.” I felt suitably chastised. After mass there was tea and a biscuit in the sacristy for those who were so inclined and the Princess and I may have been inveigled into joining the church choir.

In the afternoon, in response to Michael’s repeated requests, we went to a games shop in town. There you can buy horrifically expensive very tiny models which you need to paint and assemble yourself and use them to play games so complex that the rules can’t be explained in a normal lifetime. There were two ten year olds there who had to come into the shop to play because they couldn’t understand the rules after 2 years of playing with the models. I really can’t see the attraction myself but the boys were transfixed. I see shoals ahead.

We wrenched them away from the Games Shop and took them to the Dublin Book Festival. My expectations for this were pitched low. We had tried to book tickets for a number of the children’s events and failed. I suspected that we might arrive to find that access was only by ticket holders to a session for adults chaired by Ireland’s cultural commentator in chief, Fintan O’Toole. I was quite prepared to sell the whole thing to the children as a walk up and down the quays.

However, the venue was open and it was lovely and really interesting to look around. Upstairs, there were books for children to read and beanbags to sit and read them on.
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There was a treasure hunt and each child who did it [and to my certain knowledge one who didn’t] got a bag containing bookmarks, two sweets and a small book. While the Princess was reading her book she looked up to see a woman staring at her. When she caught the Princess’s eye, the woman said, “I wrote that.”

They had this man called Niall de Burca do a storytelling session. He was phenomenal and the boys absolutely loved him. I have never seen them so engaged and entertained by a live performer. I know he’s an artist but I really wanted to ask him, “Do you do birthday parties?” I have never seen a group of children so entranced and he was at it for ages.

All in all, what with one thing and another, it was a busy weekend.

Did You Have a Good Day at Work?

20 November, 2012 at 9:06 pm by belgianwaffle

I got an email from an old friend today commenting that he thought I would enjoy seeing him damned with faint praise. I thought you might too. Might I point out that he is terribly clever with vast experience so that you can suitably appreciate this also. Relevant line in italics.

Dear all

Following the various meetings which have taken place recently on the.., I write to invite you to a discussion on [X]. [A], who is working on …has identified the very strong potential for … prioritisation arising from the…work currently under way.

We are fortunate that [B] is able to attend the meeting and bring his considerable expertise to bear. [My friend] will also be there (thank you for arranging the room).


In other news, Mr. Waffle is, even as I write, attending the residents’ association AGM. I sped him off with the anxious words, “Try not to get elected to the committee.” Yes, I’m all about civic engagement; your point?

Definitely Nurture Rather than Nature

19 November, 2012 at 11:51 pm by belgianwaffle

Herself had a spelling test in school and was the only child in the class who could spell “accommodation” correctly. “How did you know that?” asked her teacher. “My grandfather’s students could never spell “accommodation” and he drilled it into my mother and then she insisted that I suffer in the same way.”

Worst First Thinking

18 November, 2012 at 11:51 pm by belgianwaffle

On the Free Range Kids blog they have a category described as “worst first thinking”. Essentially, it’s the idea that when looking at a whole range of possible outcomes, the first that is considered is the worst even if it is the most unlikely.

I was put in mind of this when Mr. Waffle went to photograph traffic chaos at the local school at 9 in the morning. The residents’ association is appealing to the council for a better traffic management plan [don’t mock, someday you too will be in your 40s and a stalwart of the local residents’ association]. He was approached by a man wearing a fluorescent jacket of power wanting to know why he was taking photographs of the children. When Mr. Waffle was able to re-assure him that he was taking photos of the traffic [and, obviously enough, had photographic evidence to prove it], the man was very pleasant and obliging, explaining the measures which the school had taken to address the issues. But it did strike me that there was a certain amount of paranoia in evidence. The principal in my children’s own school though in many ways terrific also has a slight streak of paranoia about this. The school yard is visible from the windows of a nearby hotel and the children are told not to go too near the hotel side of the yard lest they be photographed by the hotel guests. This seems an extremely unlikely contingency to me.

In a sort of related issue, a colleague of mine lives in one of Dublin’s more affluent suburbs and there have been a number of burglaries in her estate. Most recently a widow who lives across the road met the burglar who was doing the house next door and he threatened her with a gun. I appreciate that this is terrifying but I am not sure that the solution, as suggested by my colleague is a good one. She is encouraging the widow not to answer the door without checking who it is first, ideally by intercom. The neighbours are also going to look at putting gates on the estate. The guards have advised that gated estates get burgled less. I suppose this may be true but I am not sure that it is so good for social cohesion to bar admittance in this way.

That’s enough about the end of society for one evening.

Getting Bigger

17 November, 2012 at 8:58 pm by belgianwaffle

About a month ago we gave up reading bedtime stories to the boys and just let them hop into bed with their own books; the end of an era. I am torn between sorrow and joy.


16 November, 2012 at 8:55 pm by belgianwaffle

I was summoned to the school during the week because Michael had fallen and got a big bump on the back of his head and his brother and another child had then (accidentally, due to momentum, I understand) run over his face and he also had a bloody nose. Oh he was woeful. But he is now entirely recovered. Partly because he got to spraypaint his sister’s old pink bike. The excitement! Photo to follow once we have put on a second coat. It’s just one thrill after another around here.

Oh the Guilt

15 November, 2012 at 8:55 pm by belgianwaffle

Me: Sorry I had to go to work before you woke up this morning. I missed seeing you in the morning.
Daniel: That’s ok, Mummy. It’s good that I get to see you before I go to bed anyway.

More Record Keeping

14 November, 2012 at 11:35 pm by belgianwaffle

Daniel finally learnt to cycle at the weekend. Hurrah now we can all cycle. Daniel needs a little more work: he can go and he can stop but he can’t start. We are going to spray paint his sister’s old pink (I knew that colour was a mistake) bike for him.

Michael meanwhile goes from strength to strength and cycled with me to the polling station on Saturday (constitutional referendum on which two thirds of the population decided not to bother voting) and with his father to the park on Sunday.

The Princess continues her impressive prayer reading at mass. She is very pleased with herself. Meanwhile at school, they asked me whether I am doing any extra-curricular activities to “stretch her”. Do you think reading at mass is likely to count?


13 November, 2012 at 10:28 pm by belgianwaffle

I see that the city fathers are planning a website on the Liffey Bridges. Not before time.

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East from O’Connell Bridge, November 6, 2012

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West from O’Connell Bridge, November 6, 2012

Hoist with My Children’s Petard

12 November, 2012 at 10:25 pm by belgianwaffle

Daniel: When I grow up, I want to be an assassin.
Me: Oh sweetheart.
Daniel: What?
Me: Oh honey, you can’t be an assassin.
Herself: I thought that you said we could be anything we wanted to be.

How the Mighty have Fallen

11 November, 2012 at 10:16 pm by belgianwaffle

Daniel:What are the dark ages?
Me:Well, after the Fall of Rome..
Him: With the Goths and the Vandals and the Ostrogoths..
Me: That’s it. Well people forgot about a lot of the things that they used to know and there wasn’t much science but then the renaissance came [Insert digression here on the topic “what do you think renaissance means?”*]
Mr. Waffle: But before that the flame of civilisation was kept alive by monks on a tiny island. Do you know where that was?
Children in chorus: Ireland.
Mr. Waffle: That’s right and there’s a story about how Charlemagne the great Emperor wanted to know about solar eclipses and an Irish monk had to explain it to him.
Herself (slightly sourly): And only look at us now.

*Is it any wonder my poor children tend to wander away from the table over dinner?

Extending our Family

10 November, 2012 at 10:04 pm by belgianwaffle

Last weekend, my sister-in-law got engaged. Oh the excitement. She has asked her two nieces to be flower girls. Oh the further excitement. She will be getting married in London. Oh the breathtaking excitement. Michael walked up to his teacher the next day and announced proudly, “I may have to miss a couple of days at school because I will be going to my Aunty’s wedding in London.”

You will be delighted to hear that we have had an opportunity to inspect the young man and he is lovely. As I pointed out to my other sister-in-law, we weren’t meeting him we were vetting him for the purposes of holidays together in Kerry in the rain. I am sure that he would be thrilled to know that he passed with flying colours.

Oh yes, and since it’s all about me, the first thing I said to my delighted sister-in-law after “Congratulations!” was “Please, please, please don’t get married the same weekend as the boys’ first communion.”

Last Weekend

9 November, 2012 at 11:44 pm by belgianwaffle

I took the children to Cork last weekend. We went to Charles Fort again and Michael said bitterly, “Why oh why do we have to go here every time we come to Cork?” Because it’s nice and I can get in free with my heritage card. And also, Daniel got to drink hot chocolate through a straw at the Bulman. Are these not reasons enough?

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8 November, 2012 at 10:48 pm by belgianwaffle

Me: What’s the most annoying aspect of my OCD tendencies?
Him: The way we can never eat until you’ve tidied up.

West from O’Connell Bridge

7 November, 2012 at 10:17 pm by belgianwaffle

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October 31, 2012


6 November, 2012 at 11:07 pm by belgianwaffle

The boys are rather taken with a series of books called “Medikidz” which they found in the library. A group of superheroes explain various medical conditions. The texts are, I understand, medically accurate but very dull. Nevertheless, the boys are captivated. So far we have covered childhood obesity, autism, breast cancer and brain tumours. And there are lots more where those came from. I find it all mildly disturbing. Daniel said to me the other evening, “I have a headache, do you think it could be a brain tumour?” Then at the weekend I overhead him telling my brother that there are 12 different kinds of brain tumours. Oh dear.

Any Apples or Nuts?

5 November, 2012 at 10:24 pm by belgianwaffle

Just some of the haul put on display by the diabetes police over the weekend:



4 November, 2012 at 10:06 pm by belgianwaffle

So, busy day, October 31. When I came downstairs in the morning, Mr. Waffle had already left for work but not before making brown bread. Heroic. I was therefore able to photograph two Irish icons side by side. Look, a loaf of soda bread and a barm brack (which I had hauled out of the oven at 2 in the morning – turns out that it takes a long time to cook though not as long as I left it in for – look, it’s only slightly burnt):

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Earlier in the month, the Princess and I had signed up to go to the National Gallery to see the author of the Skulduggery Pleasant books speak. It was a lunchtime gig and I asked Mr. Waffle whether he could mind the boys at home over lunch while we skipped off. He nobly said he would take them to the library treasure hunt. A huge success apparently.

The night before, I got the following email:

Hello! Congratulations on being one of TEN lucky winners to meet Derek Landy on Wednesday 31st October!

You’ll have the chance to chat with Derek, get as many things as you can carry signed, as well as feature in a special short film being made to celebrate a certain skeleton detective. There’ll be goodie bags, books and heaps more – as well as front row seats for the event with Tom Percival, Nick Lake and Derek.

Can you reply to this mail confirming that you and a parent/guardian will be able to attend the event – kicking off at 11.30am in the National Gallery of Ireland, Clare Street, Dublin 2.

Congratulations again and see you TOMORROW!!!!!

So exciting. Mr. Waffle kindly agreed to mind the boys from 11 and the Princess and I skipped off. When we arrived at the national gallery, the competition winners were hovering with parents/guardians but there was no sign of the people who we were to meet. The event I now know was jointly organised by the Ark, the National Gallery and Harper Collins, Mr. Landy’s publishers. I have had some involvement myself in events put together by more than one organisation and, in my experience, this never works well. This was no exception.

We were eventually ushered into a lecture theatre by two young women from Harper Collins’s London Office. A camera man was waiting. Of the author, there was no sign. We all signed release forms allowing our children to be used by Harper Collins to promote the Skulduggery Pleasant Books. We were then all sent to wait outside (no seats, one granny, various middle aged parents and 10 children). Over the next hour the children were called in in ones and twos to talk to camera about how fantastic the books are. The parents waited outside as did the children when they weren’t making advertising copy for Harper Collins. Fortunately the children, by definition, were keen readers and were happy to sit on the floor reading. Bright young things from Harper Collins and the Ark and some gallery staff (bright young things seemed in short supply there) flitted around doing important things and ignoring us. To be fair, one woman from the Ark did try to talk to some of the children but they preferred to read their books. Basically we were just props for Harper Collins advertising and not particularly well looked after props either – not so much as a chair or a cup of tea while we waited for an hour (no indication of how long it would be either so it wasn’t like you could go away with your excited child and come back).

At about 12.30 we were told that the author was coming. There was great excitement. The main bulk of the people for the 1.00 session were now being let in and we swam upstairs against the tide, guided by the bright young things. Again, better organisation might have avoided this. We were led into a room in the Milltown wing (currently closed for renovation – closed for some time but of said renovation, there are no visible signs, I digress) and there we waited further. There were seats and some more enthusiastic hovering from the young women from Harper Collins (editorial assistants? marketing? who knows?) assuring us that the author would shortly be there. And finally about 12.45 he came.

And once he came, I have to say he was terrific. I mean, he writes about a skeleton detective and his sidekick, so you would feel that a book signing is likely to disappoint but he was just a really nice funny guy. He clearly enjoyed talking to the children. The Princess was last and pale with a combination of excitement and fear and burdened under the weight of all his books which she had bought for him to sign. He signed them all. And he was sarcastic and funny. She’s very sarcastic herself and she didn’t know quite how to take this grown-up who said, “You’re odd, why are you standing all the way over there?” She did quite enjoy it but she was scared as well, I think. I met his agent later on the stairs and she said, “Derek really had great fun with your little girl” which was nice though possibly indicated that she felt there was a need for reassurance.

Then after our 15-20 minutes with the great man we all went back to the auditorium where seats were reserved up at the front for us. “Or actually no, just for the children” said Nicola or Hannah from Harper Collins, so the adults trooped away dutifully. “Come back,” said Nicola/Hannah, “there are actually seats on the other side at the front for the adults.” Congratulations Harper Collins another organisational triumph.

I wouldn’t have minded being nearer to herself particularly as Derek Landy said from the stage something like, “I love you all, except you, weird girl!” pointing at her. I wondered how she would take this but I was reassured to hear her shouting back at him from her seat shortly thereafter that he should have signed with Penguin rather than Harper Collins as they had better cakes (you had to be there).

I think she found the whole experience enjoyable, if a bit weird and stressful (also the fact that the scheduling meant we didn’t eat until 2.30 probably didn’t help). Though Derek Landy was great and really put on a performance for the kids, I felt taken for a ride by Harper Collins. Essentially, they used our kids for promotional material. In return the children got a) to wait a long time b) to meet Derek Landy for a bit longer than those who queued afterwards and c) a poster (no books or goodie bags as advertised, alas – though I suppose we do have all the books already).

We had lunch in the Gallery (charged twice – man gave me ticket showing that the first transaction was cancelled – threw it away as was my wont – turned out it wasn’t cancelled – chances of recovering same close to nil – total resultant cost €34 for soup, chicken nuggets and chips). When herself went off to the toilet during lunch she met the author on the way back and had a further chat with him. I suppose that’s as good as it gets.

When we emerged blinking in the sunlight on Clare Street she said, “Oh can we please go to the Makeshop“. This is the coolest thing. You trot in off the street and in 15-20 minutes your child makes something. Herself made a robotic colouring device. A patient science graduate (oh recession, oh dear) sat with the Princess and showed her how to use the drill and the glue gun:

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And then she attached markers to her yoke and wires from batteries to a motor and it jumped around like mad as I would illustrate, if she hadn’t spent all day playing with it and using up the batteries (I’m too tired to change them).

Her didactic parents had a great time showing her how she could use metal to complete the circuit but not plastic and tossing in words like resistance in a nonchalant fashion and see that’s how a switch works, you interrupt the circuit… As punishment, the yoke has now coloured the house. Total cost – €5. If you have a child over 5 and easy access to Dublin, I cannot recommend this highly enough.

And then, that evening we went out for about an hour collecting sweets from various indulgent neighbours (only 2 requests for songs in return for goodies – down on previous years, I think). There are huge numbers of children under 10 living locally and there must have been a gang of 20 haring up and down the streets. Afterwards we went for a quick drink with a noble woman who had sugar high children and their exhausted parents around to her house. I brought her half a brack. The non-burnt half, you’ll be pleased to hear. There’s still plenty left.

And how was your own Halloween?

New Bridges

3 November, 2012 at 10:07 pm by belgianwaffle

I’ve discovered that although I cross the Liffey almost every day I am either
a) with someone and too embarrassed to haul out my phone to take a picture or
b) in the car going across at speed and you’d be surprised how awkward it is to stop on Dublin’s bridges
c) on the bike going across at the best speed I can muster – again, surprisingly awkward to stop.

These are from the car.

West from James Joyce Bridge
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West from Samuel Beckett Bridge
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And here’s a nice blog post by former Green Minister Ciarán Cuffe about what might be done for the Liffey and the quays.

And here’s a river from a different city where the river is not surrounded by six lanes of traffic. Gentle, and slightly competitive reader, can you name this city?
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Stay Focussed

2 November, 2012 at 10:53 pm by belgianwaffle

Part 1
Mr. Waffle: Michael, if you had a time machine and could go back to any time, when would you go to?
Michael: To when the dinosaurs were wiped out.
Mr. Waffle: That’s a good idea because no one knows why they were wiped out although there are lots of theories.
Michael: Yes and because no one knows why they were wiped out, if I came back with that information, I could sell it for a lot of money and then I could buy an x-box.

Part 2
Michael: I know how to get my x-box.
Me: How’s that?
Michael: There’s a competition in the Beano to win an x-box.
Me (diffidently): I suppose, other children might enter also. And I think you need to phone from the UK..
Michael: Weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Part 3
Michael: I know how to get a free x-box.
Mr. Waffle: How’s that Michael?
Michael: Get it from Santa!

Even, if Santa fails to deliver, savings continue to mount up.

Is it That Time of Year Already?

1 November, 2012 at 8:47 pm by belgianwaffle

Me: You know that Thursday is November 1.
Him: Yes.
Me: You know what that means, don’t you?
Him: Oh God, 30 days of writer’s block.

Oh yes indeed, for the 7th year in a row, I will be posting every day for the month of November. And I still haven’t worked out how to put the wretched badge in my sidebar.
NaBloPoMo November 2012

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