Belgium

Summer Plans

15 May, 2022
Posted in: Belgium, Boys, Daniel, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel, Work

A couple of years ago, an Italian friend of Mr. Waffle’s asked whether we would be interested in doing an exchange with her nephew in Rome and one of our sons in Dublin. Covid put paid to the original plan but now it is back and Daniel is going to Rome for a week and we’ll have an Italian teenager here.

I was a bit worried about Daniel flying on his own. I anxiously asked him whether he thought he would be ok and he pointed out to me that he had already flown to Paris on his own a number of years ago which, I confess, I had forgotten. He flew as an unaccompanied minor though so was thoughtfully shuttled about by a bored airline employee. Mr. Waffle is adamant that the humiliation of flying aged 16 as an unaccompanied minor (they have to wear a special label around their necks; they are herded together and most of them are under 12) would be the death of Daniel and that he will be perfectly fine on his own. He suggested that if I am concerned I could adopt his own mother’s technique of approaching someone I like the look of in the check-in queue and asking him or her to keep an eye on my child. More mortifying surely? Your views would be welcome on this issue which is the subject of animated domestic discussion. I am forced to point out that Daniel himself thinks he would be fine.

Daniel doesn’t speak any Italian but he is game for the trip to Rome and I do hope he will enjoy it. I lived in Rome for a while in my early 20s and absolutely loved it. I really feel for my children who have had so many of the normal teenage fun things denied to them but have had all of the angst and then some. Michael has astounded me by announcing that he wants to go on a school trip to Brussels to visit the European institutions. Under normal circumstances, he is not one for travel but the lure of a trip to the European institutions was too much for him to resist. I am not even joking.

Last night we told herself that the day she returns from England and Italian teenager will be arriving to stay with us. She is already a bit tetchy in the run up to her exams and I wouldn’t say this piece of information improved her mood. “I wouldn’t have come home at all had I known that there were to be Italian teenage boys or indeed teenage boys of any nationality in the house,” she announced imperiously. As her own brothers who live here are teenage boys that was always a pretty lofty aspiration, nonetheless, my hopes that she might entertain the Italian teenager (who will be 18 in August so possibly a bit old for Dan) were definitely delivered a blow. She’s hoping to go to Paris for a bit of the summer and if she does I fully plan to visit. Let us hope this will be welcome news in due course.

I have had to delay my year of rest and relaxation by a week or so due to an upcoming work crisis which my boss begged me to stay for. I am not immune to flattery (on the contrary) but given that I am counting the days extra time – and stressful extra time at that – seems a bit tedious. I will now be finishing on June 17 and I cannot wait. On the 20th I am off to England to collect herself staying with friends in England en route. I am thrilled.

Easter!

7 April, 2021
Posted in: Belgium, Boys, Cork, Daniel, Dublin, Family, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings

Monday March 29, 2021

We persist in watching “Charité” a German TV series with German subtitles (for added effort). It’s set in the 1880s and its about a hospital in Berlin. It’s hard going and despite my friend who speaks excellent German reassuring me that there is lots of useful domestic vocabulary we are all struggling to see how herself will work the word “Kaiserschnitt” into her German oral.

The evenings feel delightfully long now that the clocks have gone back.

Monday evening is forage night (everyone makes his/her own dinner from the fridge contents – don’t judge) and Daniel usually makes himself pizza. He’s got very handy at making the dough. He said to me as he kneaded, “I couldn’t find the yeast so I’m going to try without.” At one level my children astonish me with their competence, at another level, not so much. We found the yeast.

Tuesday, March 30, 2021

There is a new announcement about the very slow lifting of Covid restrictions. Nothing is changing before April 12 when we may be able to go as far as 10kms from home.

A very expensive Easter hamper from a nice hotel was advertised to me on instagram and, reader, I bought it.

Wednesday, March 31, 2021 – Spy Wednesday

The bathroom door broke. I’m not sure whether that constitutes an emergency in Covid times but we had a man in to fix it all the same. Apparently it took ages according to Mr. Waffle and the kids who were all confined to their work spaces for the duration of his visit while I was off in the office. He put it back opening the other way (at our request) and I am delighted with the increased feeling of spaciousness. To be clear, the bathroom remains tiny.

My camellia has finally produced several flowers. I am unreasonably delighted.

We got a notification that there was a Covid case in the school. What would once have been shocking is now a matter of general indifference. Though not a great sign with only two of the six years back in school.

The Government got into trouble in the matter of children’s shoes. Although initially shoes were deemed non-essential retail, now children’s shoes can be purchased in person and an appointment made for fitting. It appears that the Government were nervous about the surprisingly significant role children’s shoes play in Irish politics.

The neighbourhood whatsapp group started to spiral out of control following some vandalism incidents. To my lasting admiration, one of the neighbours called out the language being used. Everyone is back to asking whether anyone knows a good plumber; how to keep the road clean and virtual Easter egg hunts. A relief.

Thursday, April 1, 2021 – Holy Thursday

The first day of my Easter holidays and April’s fool day. I failed to fool herself or Daniel but I did persuade Mr. Waffle that the new bathroom door had come off its hinges. As I pointed out to herself, the relief made it net hugely enjoyable for him. She was unsure. So was he.

Herself spent the morning crafting an application for a summer internship (she is not optimistic but you never know) and imagining a world where the Leaving Cert was over. Then she and I had a very satisfactory urban plunge. We went to Fallon and Byrne (food); Marks and Spencer (more food); Sheridan’s (cheese) and Clement and Pekoe (tea) which were pretty much the only places open. In the course of lock down I have been regularly reminded of this line from Alistair Horne’s book “The Siege of Paris”:

“When in October a copy of the Journal De Rouen was somehow smuggled into the city, and reprinted in extenso, Child remarked that ‘whoever had said 3 months ago that a Provincial paper a fortnight old arriving in Paris would cause a sensation would have been laughed at; however such was the case’.”

Thursday is property supplement day in the Irish Times and even by the generally florid style of this supplement the following line stood out:

“Central to the room is an on-trend cottagecore scrubbed pine table.”

Cottagecore indeed.

Friday, April 2, 2021 -Good Friday

It has been an objective with me since lock down 1 to cycle the length of the canals which, more or less, encircle the city. It was a beautiful day and Mr. Waffle and I set forth to see what could be done. We largely achieved my objective although we did have a brief diversion when we ended up following the Dodder rather than the canal. While commenting on the strangeness of seaweed in the canal; a curve; and a silted up island in the middle we remained convinced that we were on the right track until we saw a sign saying River Dodder in Ballsbridge.

We stopped off on Wilton Terrace in a small but pleasant park filled with deck chairs and a coffee van. It was a private park and though, in theory, I feel quite uncomfortable with that, in practice it was pretty pleasant. I was ravenous and went off to the van to purchase tea and a snack but Mr. Waffle tactfully reminded me that it was Good Friday and I’d already had my two collations, so I restrained myself and had a cup of black tea only. Not entirely satisfactory.

Slightly related: herself tells me that plastic surgeons call the two lines between my eyebrows the “angry 11s”. Happily they are not visible in this picture of me relaxing in the private sector deck chair – taken by my husband. On the minus side, all of my chins are visible.

I was pretty pleased with myself when we got home, though exhausted from our epic trek.

My 91 year old aunt in Cork got her second Covid jab, so that is a relief.

Saturday, April 3, 2021

The very expensive hamper I ordered did not appear. I was pretty nervous as it contained our Easter Sunday lunch but I got a series of soothing emails and messages and it eventually arrived. It was pretty swish, people.

Mr. Waffle spent much of the day trying to make hot cross buns. He had huge success last year but this year, they just would not rise for him. As he said bitterly at the end of his efforts, “I’ve merged two traditions by creating the Passover unleavened bun.”

A friend of Mr. Waffle’s rang to ask whether herself would be willing to do some translation work for him – from French to English. She was delighted and has already mentally spent the generous fee several times.

It was time to yet again the deploy the house cleaning rota. God, we all hate it. But it’s effective.

We did not have takeaway night on Friday as it was Good Friday and it just seemed a bit odd, so we had it on Saturday. The children had pizza and the grown-ups a meal kit from Oliver Dunne. I was pretty impressed. It had, hands down, the best and most straightforward instructions of any meal kit we’ve got. The food was good and it was delivered to the door in a box not a lot larger than a pizza box. In fairness, they have the thing down to a fine art.

Sunday, April 4, 2021 – Easter Sunday

Herself was up at the crack of dawn organising an Easter egg hunt for the boys. They love her Easter egg hunts. The clues are always just right – enjoyably hard. For example, one of this year’s clues had a Caesar cipher which I had never heard of before but which they seemed to know well.

She and I then spent a happy couple of hours setting up the table and cooking our hamper contents. A gendered space I fear. She had a vision of renaissance extravagance for the table:

I was more into replicating cute bunny napkin arrangements I’d seen on the internet.

We were thinking next time we might even iron the table cloth. The gentlemen of the party, had a drink with the chefs/creative geniuses:

And then, warned that they needed to admire, they were escorted to the kitchen:

I must say the hamper was amazing. They promised enough food for six and they more than made good on that promise. There was the most enormous beef Wellington which is likely to be with us all week. All of the courses were superb – I would definitely do something like this again for Easter. Although our poor vegetarian had to make do with a Marks and Spencer offering for mains. Oh well.

After lunch we went for a walk round the block and dropped into the church. It is so odd not to be going to mass at Easter though much less odd than last year.

We talked to my sister, brother and aunt in Cork by Skype. My sister is the major Easter egg donor in our house so we had an unboxing ceremony for her. She seemed to enjoy it. Not as much as we did.

Monday, 5 April, 2021

Herself was plunged deep into her studies. I decided that Mr. Waffle, the boys and I would explore on our bikes a hitherto unknown (to us) bit of the large park nearby. We were only half way there when it started to drizzle. We went in to a smaller park near our house instead and played frisbee in the drizzle which slowly and determinedly changed into snow. Not a perfect outing.

We continued our German TV watching. We switched to a show about a school on the grounds that the vocabulary might be more useful. However, we all pined for “Charité” and wondered how the tuberculin vaccine was going to work out [spoiler alert – not well] so we have decided to abandon the school show and work out how herself can usefully integrate late 19th century medical vocabulary into her German oral. I found myself reading up on Wikipedia about the characters in the show. Three of them won the Nobel prize for medicine. This got me thinking about how Germany was a powerhouse of science and medicine. When my mother went to Germany in the late 50s to do post-graduate work in chemistry, it was considered a fantastic opportunity. Ten years later when she met my father, German was still the language of a lot of scientific papers (they met because the college librarian suggested to my father that my mother might be able to help him with translating a German paper). I wonder is Germany still a world leader in science and, if not, why not? When did English take over from German as the language of scientific research? I daresay google knows.

Tuesday, 6 April, 2021

I’m still on my Easter holidays but there is nothing to do. I did some German practice with herself. My own Leaving Cert German is coming back to me a bit but, even though my Dutch is almost entirely non-existent *, I find myself regularly leading herself astray by using Dutch expressions instead of German ones. I read somewhere that when you are struggling to find a word in a foreign language, often the word will come to you in your weakest foreign language – this certainly seems to be true of me.

Tomorrow is the last day of my Easter holidays and I am not as sorry as I generally am which is a sad reflection on the state of things.

How was your own Easter?

*Despite a good year of classes and living in a Dutch speaking country – in my defence I lived in the French speaking part; Flemish people to a man speak far better English than I speak Dutch so I could only practice on young children and people tend to look askance at that. You would think that as Dutch is the child of English and German** I had a natural advantage, but yet I made no progress.

**An American friend of mine once shouted at Dutch radio, “Come on man, try a little harder, you’re almost at English”- I know what he meant.

Another One Down

28 March, 2021
Posted in: Belgium, Boys, Daniel, Dublin, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess

Monday, March 22, 2021

I’ve got nothing. No recollection of what happened on yet another Monday in lock down.

Tuesday, March 23, 2021

An elderly woman who was born on our road and has been a very active member of the local residents’ association went into hospital a while back. Mr. Waffle heard that she has cancer and then had a stroke so she is going into a nursing home and not coming home from hospital. It’s so sad. She was always in her front garden, sweeping the path or hanging over the hedge chatting to someone. And when she dies, we won’t even be able to go to the funeral. Very depressing.

On Daniel’s Tuesday course, he and his group did something in 70 lines of code whereas all the other teams had at least 120 lines. Apparently fewer lines is better. I tell you this lest you too make the same kind of tactless remark as me based on an understanding that surely more is better.

Herself went to the orthodontist and he has finally, finally said that he is going to take off her braces in June. This has been a complete marathon. I really regret going in to the process in the first place. Her teeth were fine really. I blame the Americans.

We watched a German film about the devil’s daughter who is staying with a nice family and trying to tempt their teenage daughter. Lots of school vocabulary, very speedy dialogue which was challenging but good for all of us.

Wednesday, March 24, 2021

The State Examinations Commission issued new exam guidelines and apparently, inter alia, the Shakespeare question in English will be optional this year. Herself was delighted and she likes Shakespeare. She had two outstanding King Lear essays and felt that now the teacher would no longer want her to complete them (spoiler alert: the teacher still wants her to do the essays).

I felt a bit unwell when I got home from work so took myself up to bed at 8.30. Poor Michael had made a very nice risotto for dinner and was cast into understandable gloom when I merely pushed it round my plate and then departed for bed. Herself said reproachfully that if I had Covid, she wouldn’t be able to do her orals.

Thursday, March 25, 2021 – My father’s birthday

I woke up feeling fine (not Covid, then). This would have been my father’s 96th birthday. I thought about him a lot all day. A friend sent me a card offering perpetual masses for my father and mother and I was amazed how pleased I was. Am I going to become obsessed by religion in my old age?

At school, herself did mock Irish and German orals. The former was more satisfactory than the latter. Her lovely German teacher, looked out the window during the class and said, “Oh I see a bunny in the yard, let’s go outside and see if we can all see him.” She’d bought them all Easter eggs and put them in the yard. This class of 17/18 year olds were delighted which is quite sweet.

Daniel’s GAA coaches ran a zoom games session and they played 2 truths and a lie and he had such a good time. Poor Dan, fun is in short supply these days. I am very grateful to the coaches who organised the whole thing. They have day jobs and I can’t imagine that spending time organising an evening of online games was great fun for them.

Friday, March 26, 2021 – Last day of school before the Easter holidays

Herself had her actual Leaving Cert French oral. She sat 2 metres from the examiner with two sheets of perspex between them, the windows open and both of them wearing masks so I think risk of infection was low. In fairness, her French is good so it all passed off peacefully and she was glad to have the first real exam experience out of the way.

I had a good long Skype call with my friend in Brussels. They’re about to go into lock down again and she is quietly resigned.

I ordered from Uno Mas for dinner. It’s a sister restaurant to Etto which I love but I just didn’t like it as much. I mean it was nice but assembly was tough and nearly floored me. Highlight was waiting to pick it up and singing along with herself to Dolly Parton (“Here you come again” – how does she know this number? Dolly is very popular with the young people, it transpires).

Daniel, Michael and I watched “The Return of the King” which we all enjoyed hugely. Mr. Waffle drifted in and out making slightly snarky comments. He is not a fantasy fan. We had our revenge when he thought it was surely over and there was a final half hour of return to the Shire.

Saturday, March 27, 2021

A day of high drama. Herself came into my room at 9.15 fully of adrenaline in advance of her Leaving Cert oral Irish exam. We sang Dolly Parton (reliving the previous day’s excitement) and she danced around the room. Both her brothers came to the bedroom door having been inadvertently awoken by our antics at this early hour, “Either the singing or the dancing but not both,” said Daniel wearily.

I dropped her to school. She was nervous but she’s good at Irish and she was well prepared. She did the oral and it was the exam of dreams. It went really, really well. She noticed as she was leaving the room that the recording was only ten minutes. She was surprised and raised it with the teachers. It turned out that there was a fault in the recording software and it had cut everyone off after ten minutes. All of the earlier candidates had to be recalled and she had to do her exam again. Her Irish teacher said that it was the worst thing that he had ever heard of happening in an oral exam and he would use her as a cautionary tale for future generations of students. She was not very comforted by this. Anyway, she did the exam again and it went fine but not as well as the first time. The exam recordings have to be sent off to the State Examinations Commission and, apparently, they only mark what they get so it was really fortunate that she spotted the problem as if she hadn’t everyone in the school would have been marked down. She was a bit wrung by the whole thing.

I took to her to Lidl and Tesco to buy Easter tat: thin on the ground. I thought she might find something she would like but no joy. There weren’t even any mini eggs. We made an Easter wreath out of bendy branches and I stuck it up in the hall.

Herself picked the film night film. It was a Senegalese film called “Atlantique” which was largely in Wolof and won a prize in Cannes. The children really enjoyed it. I want to be the kind of person who finds a film in Wolof about the situation of African emigrants fleeing to Europe in death trap boats ideal Saturday night viewing but I’m not. I found it hard going. Before the twist, I dozed slightly. I woke up after the twist and it did improve but, lads, I can’t recommend.

Sunday March 28, 2021 Palm Sunday

I’d completely forgotten that the clocks were going forward (it’s bright outside at 8pm as I write). At least we avoided trooping in late for 11.30 mass. Mr. Waffle and I went for a walk and got rained on but it was not as unpleasant as that sounds. We passed a church with piles of palm outside the door so we picked some up.

Top tip on making your Easter wreath: make sure your bendy tree is not one whose leaves die after a short time indoors. This was the wreath yesterday, maybe not terrific but, you know, ok:

Today, alas, it was dead and positively funereal looking. Back to the drawing board:

My apple tree branch continues to be a source of delight though, so there’s that.

Update me on your own week, ah go on, do.

Christmas Update

6 December, 2020
Posted in: Belgium, Boys, Cork, Daniel, Family, Ireland, Michael, Princess

So in normal years, I resist Christmas until the weekend after December 8 at the absolute earliest. This is not a normal year. I saw Heather had a post about Christmas songs and I was delighted. Here is a post about Christmas songs from me. I wouldn’t say my favourite Christmas songs as there are so many but here’s a list of some Christmas songs, anyway.

Hark the Herald Angels Sing

I really feel that you can’t beat a good carol. This is a good carol. Mind you, so is Angels we have Heard on High. Excellent work all round by the angels.

I’ve gone all out this year on outdoor lights. Even two months ago, I would have called outdoor lights tacky. No longer, people. Herself and myself drove off to a place just off the M50 which was basically a series of sheds filled with Christmas tat one of which, disturbingly, smelt strongly of urine. Nevertheless, we had a great time and bought loads of Christmas lights.

We had a street light turning on last night and had socially distanced mulled wine and mince pies outside. Very satisfactory. Herself says that I have turned into Sorcha O’Carroll Kelly who is locked in mortal combat with her neighbours over Christmas lights. I reject this characterisation. However, I can tell you that Dublin is mad for outdoor Christmas lights this year and there is a reason why we had to go to a shed off the M50 to get some.

Handel’s Messiah

Long, there’s no two ways about it, but very Christmassy. I have turned on Christmas FM which has a questionable playlist. However, I have recently become aware of Christmas FM carols and classical (or Christmas for the middle aged) and only this morning it graced us with For unto us a child is born from the Messiah. Pleasing. They are also going with Lieutenant Kije by Prokoviev on regular repeat which is, I presume, a bit longer than the bit they’re offering on the radio but I like the extract I’m getting.

We are working on our Christmas orange decorations.

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas

I think I only heard this for the first time a couple of years ago but I like it. In other Christmas news, my sister-in-law has asked us around to their house for Christmas dinner. I am delighted. It will be festive; my sister-in-law is an excellent cook; the children will love to see their cousins; and I hope it will feel more like a normal Christmas. I am so looking forward to it. Sad that the relatives in London won’t make it back this year though.

I am fond of O Come All Ye Faithful and am shoe-horning it in here even if it doesn’t quite fit given that everyone is basically staying away this year. Sigh. We’ve never done a Christmas round robin newsletter before but Mr. Waffle is actively contemplating it this year. Stay tuned for more details.

O Little Town of Bethlehem

When my father got his triple bypass in December 1985, we thought he might be in hospital for Christmas. My mother was up in Dublin at the hospital with him and my brother, my sister and I went in to my aunt’s house next door to record a Christmas mix tape for him. My sister played the piano, my brother and aunt played the recorder and I sang. I don’t think I have ever laughed so much in my life. The recorder is not an instrument that forgives hysterical laughter either. My father was home for Christmas, so we didn’t need the tape after all which was just as well.

Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire

When I was small I had a Christmas record that featured this song. When you opened up the album there was a pop-up Christmas scene inside with Santa, Mrs. Claus and the reindeer. I thought it was the most wonderful thing imaginable. My friend and I spent hours trying to write down the full lyrics to this song listening to it over and over again. That was before the internet, kids. I have the record in Dublin now along with a Perry Como Christmas special LP (which I think actually belonged to my friend but which our family somehow ended up with) and I’ve been listening to both of them on the record player and they really remind me of Christmas in Cork in the 1970s. Sometimes on Christmas Eve, I’d go out for a drive with my father to see all the Christmas trees lit up in people’s windows and it was thrilling.

Saint Nicolas Patron des Écoliers

I wouldn’t say that this is an absolute favourite tune but it does remind me of living in Belgium when the children were small and whereas many of the nursery rhymes and songs they learnt in French have been forgotten this one remains fondly remembered. Today, you cry, is December 6, did St Nicolas come? He did.

Another Christmas number the children are keen on is Walking in the Air because of the Snowman and every number from the Muppet Christmas Carol which Michael and I watch every Christmas Eve.

All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name

Along with Gaudete this is a new hymn I learnt in the parish church when we moved here in 2008. Our church has a great musical tradition and it will be very strange and sad not to have a Christmas carol service this Christmas Eve. In general, the choir mistress and I do not have musical tastes in common but I like these ones and Joy to the World and the Carol of the Bells which are staples in the carol service every year.

There’s usually a slightly chilly and damp Christmas market as well where I pick up poinsettias. Again, not a 2020 event.

I have asked the children to find an online midnight mass with hymns which we can go to on Christmas Eve in the house. It’s not really the same.

On a podcast the other day, I heard someone say “We miss each other”. And it’s true, I’m missing not just friends and family but other people and the normal everyday interactions which have largely disappeared this year.

Silent Night

A classic which can be very beautiful and also quite appalling. I am thinking sadly of all the Nativity plays which won’t be happening this year.

I feel very disorganised on the present front this year. Normally, I take a day off work and buy everything in a slightly exhausting but broadly enjoyable trawl through the shops. This year, it’s basically online only which, for me, removes all the spontaneity and excitement. And also, should be done by now but is not so I am feeling regular waves of mild panic. I am half thinking of taking a day off work to sit at the computer and order but my boss, in a Scrooge-like move, has asked us not to take unnecessary days off in the run up to Christmas as we are quite spectacularly busy. He’s right, we are spectacularly busy. Define unnecessary.

Needless to say, not a solitary Christmas card has yet been sent.

Driving Home for Christmas

I’m not quite sure whether we will get to Cork this year. My sister is a bit worried that our descent en masse from Covid ridden Dublin could take out both her and a number of elderly relatives. I’m not sure what to do. I suppose that we will decide closer to the time but I will be slightly heartbroken if I don’t get down to Cork over the Christmas holidays.

We usually have Christmas drinks on the Sunday afternoon before Christmas. Preparation and hosting can make me a bit tense to be honest but I love it in retrospect. Not this year and I miss it. My friend Michael who has a lovely voice and is a born performer often sings O Holy Night in several languages which is a hard act to follow.

Fairytale of New York

I love this song. There’s something about the bitter-sweet nature of it that means that you can hear it a lot over Christmas but it never loses its magic. I’m aware that the lyrics are a bit difficult but I still love it. It somehow feels very appropriate for Christmas 2020.

Plague Diary – Part XI

25 May, 2020
Posted in: Belgium, Boys, Daniel, Dublin, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess

Sunday, May 17, 2020

A quiet day. We have broken out the jigsaws at last.

Cleaning rota was implemented as usual. I still feel astonished that this is working some seven weeks in.

Mr. Waffle and I went walking around our area again. We went to a depressed, miserable estate. It’s only a stone’s throw from the very nice estate we walked around last week. The houses are also Victorian and bigger (three stories rather than two) but it is not a pleasant spot. One of the houses is boarded up. The front gardens are unloved and there are no trees or other greenery on the street. Many of the houses are divided into grotty looking flats and bedsits. It’s a mystery why this should be so unattractive and the other estate so nice. It’s also off the main road and, obviously, adjacent to all the same amenities and the houses are bigger so, presumably, better for families but yet, it looks like it’s had almost a century of neglect whereas the neighbouring estate looks like it has had a century of love and affection and you can really tell the difference.

I retired to my bed at 8 in the evening with a nasty headache. Poor me.

Monday, May 18, 2020

I woke up completely recovered. We were all up at the crack of dawn as the boys are doing online exams this week.

My father called me which was exciting. Sadly, he couldn’t hear me at all. It made me so sad. I think he is really lonely and bored and, to be honest, quite unwell and I am afraid that he is going to keel over before I have a chance to talk to him properly again. I don’t know whether to go and visit or not. I mean, it would be just great if I came from Covid ridden Leinster and gave it to my father in Cork. There is absolutely no point in my going and waving from outside the window as he wouldn’t be able to see and hear me. I need to be a metre from him and bellowing to have a conversation.

Herself got a lovely message from her German teacher which perked her up; she’s recorded a video for her project work and the German teacher liked it which was good because she put in an awful lot of work on it. The boys had Irish and maths exams online this morning. Daniel found maths easy and Irish hard and Michael the reverse. A suggestion that they might compare their answers and learn from each other was met with a distinct absence of enthusiasm.

We were going to meet friends for a walk this evening to celebrate the beginning of phase 1 of the end of lock down (up to four people from different households can meet outside maintaining social distancing) but the weather is inclement and we’ve deferred it to tomorrow.

I had my online bookclub and we were a slightly gloomy group. The novelty has truly worn off. Still, things are improving. Slowly.

I stayed up until all hours on my phone. A slight regression caused by not putting it safely in the hall before dinner and ignoring it for the remainder of the evening. I am largely on the wagon again but this was a lapse. Alas.

Tuesday, May 19, 2020

All the climbing roses around the front door have come out and when you step out there is a beautiful smell of roses which I don’t think I ever noticed before [insert your own jaded thoughts about slowing down and smelling the flowers here].

Daniel’s year head got in touch with me to tell me that he had not submitted his maths test from yesterday. When he finished his morning’s testing, I enquired. He had failed to press send on the google form but, happily, he had his rough work and was able to re-submit.

Herself went into school to empty her locker on a socially distanced timetable.

After work, Mr. Waffle and I met friends for a sunny and socially distanced walk. It was really lovely. In person is 1000 times better than by vc.

Having cast my phone from me early in the evening, I dutifully went early to bed and felt smugly virtuous.

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

I was up at the crack of dawn (8.00) to go to our local hipster cafe for take away fancy bread for breakfast. It was, disappointingly, only alright.

The boys continued their online exams. Some seem very speedy and easy with 20/30 multiple choice questions but some are hard and long (history, for example). They finished their 2 hour science exam in about half an hour and assured me they had checked their answers twice so I sent them off to the local courts for a game of tennis. However, despite tennis courts and golf clubs having reopened on Monday, it appears public courts are not. Alas.

I got a parcel from a lovely shop in Leap which I saw referred to on instagram. The parcel was satisfactory – candles and writing paper (neither of which I would call a need, as such but definitely nice to have) – and I will give them a plug here for all your nice things needs (no free goods were given in exchange for this post, regrettably). The shop is called the Old Mill Stores and I desperately want their laundry thing that you hang from the ceiling. Our utility room ceiling is the old scullery and the ceiling slopes. I emailed to ask whether they thought it would work. They replied with commendable speed and said that they thought yes but I should check with a local handyman perhaps. Mr. Waffle who, you will recall, has established his temporary office in the utility room was a bit unsure about having a cast iron structure above his head. Particularly if it were installed by either of us. The Princess has taken to calling the device “the widow maker” so with one thing and another I’m holding off for the meanwhile but feel free to go for it yourself.

The weather was so nice that I decided we should have a barbecue and I went up to the butcher to buy necessary material. It felt like traffic was back to pre-Covid levels, I must say. I’m a bit worried we’ll be going backwards soon.

We ceremoniously turned off the Aga, it was just too warm. I will miss my environmental crime scene over the summer months. I have to say, it’s really come into its own during lock down – it’s very cozy when you’re home full time and who doesn’t need three ovens?

Herself met her friends in the park for a socially distanced walk which was fine but, I think probably not as exciting as she had been hoping. The 2 metres is a bit miserable for everyone but children and teenagers in particular, I think.

Mr. Waffle and I went for a mild walk in the, very warm, evening sunshine and then we had our barbecue in the garden which was lovely. Though the barbecue probably needs a wash (I assured them that all of the germs inside the barbecue were dealt with by the heat – hoping for the best here). Another exciting lock down project.

Thursday, 21 May, 2020

We woke up to no wifi and when you have two people doing online exams, two people doing online work and one person doing online school, that’s a bit of a disaster. Happily it came back at 8.55 but it was on and off all day which was very tense making.

The boys had their German exam. Daniel decided to try the French exam as well on a “why not?” basis. Michael decided that there were lots of reasons why not and didn’t bother. Later in the day, Dan had his business exam. I asked him to show me his French paper and in doing so he inadvertently deleted his business exam and had to start again. This online examination system needs some work.

Herself arrived down to breakfast with a heart tattoo on her chest and I nearly had heart failure before having had time to reflect that there was nowhere to get tattooed and being reassured that it was a temporary tattoo. It took a lot out of me.

As I was finishing work for the day, the phone rang from an unknown number. It was IPSOS/MRBI polling about public health. Lads, I love a survey. I always answer surveys. I’ve never met a survey I didn’t like. For years I have been looking at IPSOS surveys in the paper wondering bitterly why I have never been surveyed. I was delighted. The conversation went as follows:

Her: Would you be prepared to take a call from IPSOS/MRBI?

Me: Yes, very much so, I would love to, I’ve been waiting for this moment for 51 years.

Her (laughing): OK, your data will be anonymised, you won’t be identifiable, GDPR, call recorded etc. etc.

Me: Fine, fine, I’m ready.

Her: Do you have anyone between 15-34 living in the house?

Me: Yes, my daughter is 17.

Her: Do you think she’d be prepared to take the survey, it’s very hard to get people between 15 and 34.

Me: Yeah, I’d say she would. I’ll ask her. [Talk to herself, yes, back to pollster]. Yes, she’ll do it.

Pollster: You’re going to hate me.

Me: What, you’re going to survey her instead of me??

Her: Um, yes, I’m afraid so.

Bitter isn’t the word for me. Herself, myself and Mr. Waffle went out for a walk afterwards and she told us about the questions. Lots about the nation’s reaction to coronavirus and who we trust the most. She spent the rest of the evening prefacing her views with “Nation’s representative 17 year old about to speak”. Bitter.

On the plus side, I was out in the front garden cutting some roses for the house and a lovely young person passing by said, “You have a beautiful garden.” Of course, credit goes entirely to the people who lived here before us but I was pleased all the same.

Friday, 22 May, 2020

The boys did their last online exam and are finished school for the year. It was lovely to see them so genuinely delighted. Mr. Waffle had bought them a new game for the x-box and we let them play it together (it’s quite an innocent thing about preparing food in a restaurant with cartoons and we were rather touched as we’d been quite prepared to pay for the more standard shoot-em-up offering).

Meanwhile, herself started her exams which seemed tough enough. Three hours of English. She hates Paul Durcan, I’m afraid.

I had a coffee break with a friend based in Brussels. We would never have done this in peace time but I must say, it was quite satisfactory in its way. VC is better than a phone call. Begium is further along in its re-opening than Ireland and she told me that she and her husband were getting the tram into town that afternoon to go to the gallery on a socially distanced pre-booked visit. I nearly expired from envy.

My afternoon off was not what it might have been due to a number of work queries. One of which came as I closed the boot of the car (first vehicular outing in many weeks) and due to distraction, I brought it down on my poor daughter’s head. She has a bruise the size of a duck egg.

Mr. Waffle took the boys out with a kite as it was windy. Some success. The wind also brought down the climbing roses at the front of the house so I spent some time with twine and nails pinning it back. It fought back and I may have permanently embedded a number of thorns in my person.

We watched “The Social Network” for our film. Not a bad choice but three of us had already seen it. I was amazed to discover that none of my children had heard of Napster.

Saturday, May 23, 2020

I was up bright and early. Dan had a training session via zoom. I sat in the back garden in the rain holding my phone. Better than doing the plank, I suppose.

I tried out the new x-box game we bought for the boys. Very wholesome but still too hard for me.

Mr. Waffle and I cycled in to town in the rain. Town was busy enough. We tested out the new cycle infrastructure. It’s a start. Better than it was but not reaching the lofty heights of “good”. We walked around Stephen’s Green in the rain.

We wondered, as never before, about whether the sculptors of the statuary in the Green would entirely approve of the gardeners’ placing of pots of geraniums. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that they probably don’t enhance the vision the sculptors had for, respectively, a famine group and Robert Emmet.

We had a zoom quiz night organised by my friend. We won. As ever, first prize, organising next weekend’s quiz night.

Sunday, May 24, 2020

My sister tells me that my brother has spent all weekend at his tennis club rejoicing at the re-opening of the courts. I note that the public courts in the park up the road from me still haven’t re-opened. This seems a pity. I am regretting letting my tennis club membership slide.

Yet again, the cleaning rota went off without a hitch. Miraculous. Entropy is against us and it will all be to do again next week. Sigh.

I met a colleague in the park for a socially distanced work gossip which we both enjoyed very much.

Daniel, Michael and I cycled 10 kms (5 out, 5 back) to look at the sea. Although the weather was beautiful, we were all a little grumpy. I met a former book club member on our cycle and could not remember her name although she clearly knew mine. Alas.

We started another jigsaw. I stayed up until all hours working away. Alas.

It’s all go here, how are things in your own Corona virus location?

Venez, Venez, Saint Nicolas

5 December, 2019
Posted in: Belgium, Boys, Daniel, Michael, Princess

Late last week one of the children said, “I hope you haven’t forgotten Saint Nicolas on December 6.” An impressive degree of attachment given that we left Belgium for good 11 years ago.