Cork

The South – A Trip Down Memory Lane: Holidays Week 3

10 September, 2021
Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Twins, Youngest Child

Monday, August 16, 2021

We drove south towards Cork. We stopped off for food at lunch time in Ennis. Ennis is lovely and very lively. It benefits from being a commuter town from Limerick – you could see there was money spent in the town – and also has a good local community so doesn’t feel anything like a dormitory town. I have friends from nearby and got excellent lunch recommendations. I inadvertently skipped the queue for tables and although we apologised profusely, everyone in Ennis hates us and we may never be able to go back. I went into a local book shop and came out bearing proudly a jigsaw with a picture of Kinsale (where we were to stay for the next week). I was slightly dashed when Daniel pointed out, accurately, that it was full of sea and sky, the jigsaw makers’ kryptonite.

We drove on to Kinsale, travelling down from Limerick along the road I am extremely familiar with having spent my childhood driving up and down it with my mother: to visit my Nana, my cousins, and my mother’s butcher in Bruree ( he used to slaughter his own animals and she would buy half a cow, a sheep or a pig, bagged up and frozen, throw it in the boot and take it back to the chest freezer in Cork, it was a largely successful arrangement but sometimes his labelling was eccentric and she would thaw stewing beef only to find it was actually steak).

Covid has meant that my children are more familiar with their own country than I ever was at their age. We worked out that they have been through 30 of the 32 counties and have stayed in 16. They weren’t very interested I fear. Nor did they find my exposition on the Barrymores (inspired by passing their ancestral home in Buttevant – the Barrymores themselves were inspiration my mother always said for “The Rakes of Mallow” – though I see Wikipedia does not agree – I also told the children that Steeplechasing was invented by the young rakes in this part of the world – so many things to share!) any more fascinating. As we passed Murphy’s brewery on our way into Cork city I said, “That’s where your great-great grandfather worked and your great great uncle.” Were they interested? They were not, I fear.

We finally arrived in Kinsale where the (v expensive – though Kinsale was always expensive even when there was no money in Ireland) Airbnb was, happily, a lot more attractive than it looked online. And I didn’t feel quite so ripped off when I realised it was a family home and the family were living on their boat over the summer while we moved into their home. It reminded me vaguely of my father talking about when he was a child going on holidays to Fountainstown and staying in a house while the owner decamped to the hay shed for the summer.

The house was nice, central, with parking (always a challenge in Kinsale) and a good back garden well set up for sunshine and rain. It also had a hot tub (as my brother said, “what, did they win the lottery?”). There were a lot of affirmations stuck up everywhere. I think I would find it a bit tiring to live full time in a house that was quite so keen to tell me to live my best life.

Tuesday, August 17, 2021

Herself and myself got up with the lark and drove into Cork. We had breakfast in the Crawford gallery and then had a wander around the gallery.

We went to the Market and bought lunch ingredients and marzipan fruit. I took her into Saint Peter and Paul’s for her to admire, as we were passing. Pugin, she didn’t think much of it. My father always hated a gothic revival church and Pugin, in particular, which is unfortunate as Ireland is stacked with them. Catholic emancipation coincided with the gothic revival and the results are as you might imagine.

We spent a tricky 15 minutes trying to find where we parked in the multi-storey car park which brought our relationship to its knees following a successful morning but all was well in the end.

Herself had wanted to hire a bike and go cycling along the coast in Sligo but I was a bit nervous. Although she is 18 and cycles all over the city centre in Dublin, I always worry most about those quiet, narrow, rural roads where cars are bombing along and a cyclist is an unexpected obstacle. The compromise was that she could go out for a cycle with her uncle while they were in Cork. We dropped round and picked up a spare bike from him ( does everyone who owns one bike kind of acquire others without noticing?).

We visited my 92 year old aunt who was pleased to see us. We stopped off at my parents’ grave on the way back to Kinsale. She can find her way to it no bother which is more than I can say in relation to my grandparents’ graves.

When we got back we went for a swim in Garrettstown which was nice but chilly. It gave us a chance to fully appreciate the hot tub afterwards.

Herself and my brother went for a 30km round trip evening cycle out to the Old Head which they both seemed to really enjoy. Whatever floats your boat, I suppose.

My brother stayed for dinner and tested to hot tub after which he pronounced satisfactory.

There was some talk over dinner about Leaving Cert results. My brother showed us a press photo, circulated by a friend of his, of some of his school friends getting their results 30 years ago. They looked delighted if slightly oddly dressed (bat wing jumpers forever). My brother said that he had been standing beside them looking at his results as well and he was a bit disappointed (as he said himself, alright but the lower end of expectations). The photographer from the Examiner caught his eye and suggested by a wave of the arm that he move out of shot. Media manipulation, eh? Only now can it be told, the real story of LC results day.

Wednesday August 18, 2021

Like a fool I had booked myself and Mr. Waffle in for food foraging at the crack of dawn. I was up at 7.30 on holidays. The horror. The food foraging itself was quite interesting actually; I learnt a lot about seaweed. I will never again look at the foreshore in quite the same way. We had a picnic afterwards and I thought it was to be from the food we had foraged but, happily, it was not or largely not, some seaweed bread our host had baked earlier, that kind of thing.

Herself went off cycling again. On her own. I was a bit nervous but she lived to tell the tale.

My oldest friend and her husband came to visit us. She has a house in Ballydehob which is not exactly handy for Kinsale (Cork is a big county) but she was in the vicinity to check on her mother’s house. I can’t tell you how lovely it was to see her for the first time in I don’t know how long. I surprised myself by almost crying when she came in the door. You don’t really realise how much you have missed what has been taken away by Covid until you get it back, I find.

Thursday, August 19,2021

I dropped herself up to the train in Cork. We were a bit tight for time. We’d walked into Kinsale before she left to get her a sandwich for the train and, perhaps, we lingered too much. Anyhow we made it. I must say though, as we drove along MacCurtain street (the last leg of the journey), I couldn’t help saying to herself that it reminded me of all the 100s of times I had been in the exact same position with my mother, driving to the station with moments to spare. She was strangely uncomforted by this. But look, she made it. I’m not sure it could have been much tighter. When I said to her, “Aren’t you glad though that you spent that extra time in lovely Kinsale rather than sitting in the boring old station?” she just said, “No.” It looks like she is her father’s daughter. Him and his odd punctual ways.

We went sailing with the boys in Oysterhaven in the afternoon. My oldest friend (mentioned above) lived in Oysterhaven as a child and when I was young, I used to go to her house a fair bit. Given the epic distance from the city, I often stayed over. But I’d say I hadn’t been to Oysterhaven in at least 30 years. As we rounded the bends in the country roads, each corner was familiar. It was so strange.

I suppose around Kinsale and further west is the landscape of my childhood. All of these places are inextricably associated with my parents. I can’t help thinking of them when I go to places I have been with them. Particularly places we went regularly when I was young. Probably, the last time I was in Oysterhaven was with my parents (it wasn’t really somewhere you get under your own steam). It made me feel quite sad to be there again after such a long time.

As we passed my friend’s old house, I said to Mr. Waffle and the boys, “And they and the neighbours lugged down concrete to the rocks and you could swim from there, it was very exciting. The beach was a bit far away.” As we rounded the next corner and were on the beach, I was slightly mystified. I mean, it might be a long way if you had small children I suppose, but it can’t have been more than a 10 minute walk from the house. I had forgotten. I texted my friend to ask why they had bothered with the concrete place and she said: 1. It was nearer; 2. It was a swimming hole which was exciting; and 3. The beach was often covered in tar from the Betelguese disaster. I have to say until she said it, I had completely forgotten how much tar on the beach was a feature of the west Cork of my childhood. You were always trying not to get it on the soles of your feet, on your towels, on your clothes. You were constantly on the look out for it and, excitingly, on the odd rare hot days, it kind of melted. It was as much part of the landscape of my childhood beach days as the windbreak and the sandy sandwich. Thinking about it as an adult, I am appalled but it never bothered me as a child.

The sailing was grand. Like everything in Ireland this summer, it seemed to be largely staffed by teenagers (is this a “the policemen are getting younger” phenomenon?). When asked about our sailing experience, I said that I had capsized my boss more than once on an away day in the Lake District 15 years ago and gone on a Glenan’s sailing course for a week in college. The young woman smiled and said that her friend’s mother had done that back in the day. Feeling a bit elderly, I have to say. The lovely young woman who came out with us was the same age as my first born and, she was chatting away to the boys like a peer which, I suppose, she was.

Meanwhile back in Dublin, herself was having a fantastic time for herself. I thought she might be nervous in the house on her own but she definitely was not. One of her friend’s was house sitting and pet minding for the director of Dublin zoo so she spent the evening at a dinner party in the zoo which was excellent apparently.

Friday August 20, 2021

It was lashing, my God, positively biblical quantities of water.

No rain in Dublin and herself got her second vaccine dose and remained dry as well.

Mr. Waffle went around to visit a friend from London who has a house in Kinsale. The boys and I hung around the house and then headed up to Cork.

I made them go to the Crawford as well.

But we did also go to a game shop where they got more Magic cards (if you don’t know, you’re better off).

We visited my aunt who was touchingly delighted to see them. Then I deposited them with my sister’s partner to play Magic for the evening and my sister, my brother and I went out for dinner which was very nice. We lost track of time and I was a bit worried about the boys and my sister’s partner as we didn’t get back to her house until 12. I needn’t have worried, they were all still locked in mortal combat and I had to give them 15 minutes to finish off the game.

Saturday, August 21, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I went out for a delicious breakfast leaving the boys asleep in bed.

The weather was beautiful (biblical rainfall had moved to Dublin where my poor daughter got soaked on her bike) and we went to Kinsale beach in the afternoon which is not the most beautiful beach in this neck of the woods but is very handy and close to the town. There was a wedding party getting photos on the beach and it was lovely to see the return to normality.

We all swam – it wasn’t too cold. Then the boys and I walked up to James Fort which was lovely. It was just a delightful day.

We decided to go to the Bulman for dinner but our luck ran out. They were taking walk-ins only which is always a bad sign. When we arrived, the waitress told us that there was no way they could fit us in. Alas. Back to the supermarket. Sigh.

Sunday, August 22, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I went into town and I picked up a print of the Bulman though it was not a moment when I was feeling particularly kindly towards that establishment. I’ve hung it in the downstairs bathroom – compromise.

My brother joined us for lunch bringing with him a mini-fridge stocked with ingredients (yes, really). After lunch, he, Daniel and Mr. Waffle settled down to watch the match while Michael and I went for a stroll around the town. Cork were playing Limerick in the All-Ireland hurling final. As I left the house, 15 minutes in, I heard my brother say, “It’s not over yet.” I wouldn’t exactly regard that as a good sign. As Michael and I walked around the town, the pubs were heaving but not a sound came out other than the noise of the TV commentary. I regret to inform you that Cork were annihilated. My Limerick cousins will be unbearable.

Unclear how those thinking of purchasing from Lisney estate agents in Limerick would feel about the above (the all-Ireland hurling champions bring home the Liam McCarthy cup).

As it was the last night of the holidays, we had dinner out which was grand; after our experience at the Bulman, we went somewhere that took bookings.

And we finished the jigsaw.

Monday, August 23, 2021

We packed up and came home to Dublin. The roads are so good now that we flew up. We stopped off for lunch at Junction 14 (Ireland’s finest motorway stop) and were home before 3. Herself was out and about but made dinner for us that evening which was excellent. I picked up the various packages and books were waiting for us at the post office and the library. The Irish Times despite being cancelled was delivered every day we were away. And that is the end.

I did have a good time and it was lovely to be off for so long. However, I am looking forward to holidaying abroad next year. If nothing else it will be much cheaper.

How were your own summer holidays?

End of Term at Last

7 August, 2021
Posted in: Cork, Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Twins, Work, Youngest Child

Monday, July 26, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I are both facing into slightly grisly weeks at work on the basis that we are going on holidays on Friday never to return. Alas, that is not true but I am off for 3 and a bit weeks and Mr. Waffle is off until September. Rejoice. Just the week of doom to get through first.

The plumber arrives with his son to do up the bathroom. This was originally scheduled for last October but Covid did not permit. The plumber is keen as mustard. He arrives at 7.30 and says that he will be finished by Friday. He proceeds to cut off the water for the day. Herself is not delighted but at least the boys are safely in Cork.

Indoor dining can resume for the lucky vaccinated.

Tuesday, July 27, 2021

Herself enjoys another day at home with the plumber and his son and no water.

When we returned home that evening she told us that she had overheard the plumber on the phone with a client: “Look,” said he, “I’ve tried to explain to you and I’ve explained to your husband; to put it in terms you can understand, your heating system is fucked.” On seeing my precious firstborn, he said, “Sorry, I forgot you were there.” Indeed.

I had my first indoor dining experience with my Covid cert at lunch time. It was grand. Worked fine.

Daniel and Michael returned to the fold. They were not delighted by the upstairs bathroom situation but who would be? They had an excellent time in Cork with absolutely beautiful weather.

Wednesday, July 28, 2021 – Anniversary

This was our 20th wedding anniversary. “What is it for 20th?” Mr. Waffle asked. “Porcelain,” I said sapiently. Yes, indeed, the plumbers were still in situ. Plumber pÃ¨re announced to us at 7.30 in the morning that they would not be finishing until the following week. Unsurprising but unwelcome intelligence. Mr. Waffle and myself went down the road for an early restorative breakfast to recover.

Meanwhile, as you will recall, it is jam season. There is a bumper crop of plums from the tree this year and I constantly have some kind of jam process on the go. Daniel and herself helped me stone plums on separate nights. “It’s like that Seamus Heaney poem,” I said. Michael, however, remained unwilling to assist even when I made him read out the poem aloud. Alas.

I didn’t get home from work until 9, sadly, and no sooner was I in the door than poor Mr. Waffle was called to a work emergency. We’ve had better anniversaries. We can celebrate on holidays.

I rounded off the evening by driving out to a distant suburb to pick up herself from a friend’s house.

Thursday, July 29, 2021

The plumbers have installed a temporary shower in the utility room (it’s bad but not quite as bad as it sounds). The space is tiny, like a shower on the ferry. Better than nothing.

Herself had some friends around to the back garden. I sent them all home with a jar of jam.

Mr. Waffle and Daniel went to the Aviva: more live sports, where will it all end. The home team triumphed against, I want to say, a team from Luxembourg?

As we contemplated the ongoing works in the house, herself asked, “When we are looking after the house, do you think we are working with it or against it?” I said I thought not, remembering my father who always said, “Entropy is against you.” Perhaps it was just a low moment.

The plumbers said they would not be coming the following day but the tilers were coming on Saturday. As the plumber said, “They don’t have great English but they’re good tilers.” “Where are they from?” we asked. “Romania maybe,” he offered.

Friday, July 30, 2021

A plumber free day. And my last day in the office before 3 and a bit weeks of holidays. Rejoice. I got a work call in the afternoon (when I was off) which was not a great sign but never mind. I took herself off to get her first vaccination. Rejoice, rejoice.

Saturday, July 31, 2021

We had a very normal morning in pre-Covid terms. Herself joined her parents for breakfast out. Mr. Waffle and I cycled into town to pick up a light fitting for the bathroom. He went home then and I went on to see the Martin Parr exhibition in Temple Bar which is excellent. So good that I bought the exhibition book even though it has an introduction by Fintan O’Toole (Ireland’s foremost public intellectual) whom I find very trying. I took in the National Library photography exhibition as well. I went to the Temple Bar market and bought some bread for lunch. I went to the shops and bought more jam jars (planned) and a dress (more spontaneous). It was the most normal morning I have had in ages and I am so grateful to the vaccine for giving us our lives back.

It was a longer morning than usual though as the tilers arrived at 7.30 and I was keen enough to get out from under their feet. They’re from Transylvania actually, thanks for asking.

Mr. Waffle discovered as he was going about the monthly neighbourhood clean up that our misfortunate next door neighbours have got Covid. Only their 18 year old was not fully vaccinated but they all got positive tests and are dutifully self-isolating at home. It was particularly grim as they were supposed to be in Schull on their holidays this week.

I had been notified that a book I wanted had arrived at the library. Myself and Dan cycled up at speed, anxious to get there before it closed at 4. We had, however, forgotten that on bank holiday weekends, the library is closed on Saturday. I love my library and it provides an amazing service but this drives me crazy and it catches me every time.

I took the boys up the road for a haircut. As we were crossing the road, I met the waitress from the cafe at the top of the road whose daughter is in the boys’ school. She said how big the boys were and that she hadn’t seen us in ages. I pointed out that the cafe was closed and wondered were they re-opening now. Apparently not, after seeing the 96 pages of regulations, the owner has decided that they will remain closed to indoor dining for now. Understandable – particularly when they have a well-established bakery. It seems pretty difficult for cafes and restaurants – I do feel for them.

Sunday, August 1, 2021

At mass, the leaflet said that one of the saints whose feast occurs this week was Saint Eusebuis of Vercelli. It was such an odd name that I looked him up. Quite dull but his wikipedia entry refers to St. Lucifer of Cagliari. I kid you not. He’s worth a look even on the basis that wikipedia feels no need to comment on his unusual name.

I went into the Hugh Lane gallery on my own in the afternoon (my family having declined this offered treat) and had a sustaining tea and a bun in Bewley’s afterwards. How much am I enjoying having my life back? Very much indeed, thank you.

The Last Lap

1 August, 2021
Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Princess, Siblings, Travel, Twins, Work, Youngest Child

Monday, July 19, 2021

Herself expressed an interest in playing tennis and the three children trotted out together. They seem to have had a reasonable time. I was delighted as an ongoing source of guilt this summer is how little I have organised for them, particularly the boys.

Herself was able to register for her vaccine. It seems to be moving along very speedily now.

Tuesday, July 20, 2021

Michael and I dined alone as Daniel and his father were at a GAA match and herself was out cycling.

Herself went for a cycle in the park with her (male) friend and she was exhausted when she got home having cycled at speed for hours. Her friend was trying to slow down but compared to her female friends and her mother, he was pretty speedy. Good for her, doubtless.

Wednesday, July 21, 2021 – Belgian National Day

The boys headed off to their aunt and uncle in Cork again and I was thrilled as I felt that it would give them a change of scene and the weather was terrific.

We moved the kitchen table outside. Satisfactory. The tablecloth is one I brought up from Cork. I remember buying it with my mother in Venice in the 1980s. It hasn’t seen much action since then as it’s a bit small for larger groups. It could do with an iron as well but it was too hot to contemplate approaching an iron.

The boys made it to Cork safely.

Thursday, July 22, 2021

The boys went to west Cork with their aunt and tried out the Dursey island cable car. The consensus was that it was not as exciting as it looks. They had glorious weather for it though.

Meanwhile, in Dublin, we baked in the heat. Jam season continued. From farm (i.e. front garden):

To fork:

Friday, July 23, 2021

In anticipation of the (much deferred) arrival of the plumbers on Monday, Mr. Waffle decamped from the utility room where he has been based since March of last year and took the last of his stuff back to the office. The end of an era.

Herself got her vaccine appointment for the next week (imagine) and we went out for an outdoor lunch together. Still very warm.

The boys were off in a hotel in Bantry with their aunt enjoying the luxury of indoor dining.

My lily has outdone itself this year. It needed a bit of extra support so I took a length of bamboo from the forest at the end of the neighbours’ garden adjoining ours. Theft or thinning of bamboo that’s probably good for it? My family have one view, I have another. Your thoughts would be welcome provided they chime with mine.

Saturday, July 24, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I went out for breakfast to a local cafe for the first time in ages. We got more fun from this bag than you might expect. What order are the languages listed in? The only clue I will give you is that a bureaucratic mind was involved in this process. Answer below.*

We got a call from herself who had declined to come with us. “There’s someone in the house,” she whispered into the phone. “There isn’t, I’m sure,” said Mr. Waffle, “if there were, the cat would be going crazy.” “She is going crazy,” hissed herself. I zoomed home. There was not, in fact someone in the house. We’d left the back door open and the noise of the window cleaner working next door had floated upstairs and unnerved her (he came and did our windows next which was handy). The cat was indeed going crazy because she had managed to get herself in through a tiny hole in the cupboard under the stairs and couldn’t get back out again. What attracted her there? More mice or worse? Or just general perverseness? Mr. Waffle had to unscrew a wooden panel to let her out again. Idiot cat.

I went into town and bought a variety of exciting homewares. Even though I really shouldn’t. I mean, where is all the stuff from my parents’ house going to go?

Mr Waffle and I took the Dart out to Booterstown. A young man on the platform was telling all his friends how he had recovered from Covid. He ate a raw onion the other night and couldn’t taste anything. It seems, at best, unfortunate but he was delighted with himself.

We visited Mr. Waffle’s mother and then cycled on to Dalkey which was short of tea shops but we managed (middle aged problems if ever I saw them). I thought Bullock Harbour might work for a swim but it was more for jumping in and I wasn’t in a jumping in kind of mood so we went to Sandycove. The water was lovely but it was crowded. A young man was on a paddle board with a very small baby who was howling the place down. I offered to assist but he said her mother was coming. She was. Tense times in that relationship though as the baby howled the place down and the mother picked her way out among the sharp stones. Lads, I do not miss the challenges of minding small children.

While Mr. Waffle and I were out disporting ourselves, herself continued to work on her summer translation job – she’s translating something for a friend of Mr. Waffle’s and is near the end and the payout of filthy lucre – and the boys were off on Bere Island. My sister’s partner’s parents have a house there and they kindly invited the boys. It was so warm even Michael swam.

Sunday, July 25, 2021

This is the anniversary of my lovely Nana’s death. At mass the priest told us it was grandparents’ day. Who knew? I said a prayer for her although I doubt she needed it having been very saintly. I often think how strange it was that she would have worn long Edwardian skirts (she was born in 1897). I mean I know this seems an odd thing to obsess about but I just wonder what it was like to wear those clothes, they seem so remote from us now. She died in 1984 when I was 15 and I never really asked her about when she was young or the characters from the War of Independence (about whom she had views I understand from my mother – my grandmother got a medal and an army pension but I think she was always a bit ambivalent about some of the activities, she took the pension but applied it to charitable causes). I was an age, when she died, when she was a beloved character in my story but, for me, without any back story of her own. I tried to avoid something similar happening with my children and their Cork grandfather but this led to baffling sessions where I forced my unwilling children to ask my father questions about his youth and he said, “I don’t remember” and returned promptly to his newspaper. Perhaps these interests only come with age.

In the afternoon I took myself off alone to go for a swim as herself was still translating and Mr. Waffle didn’t fancy it. I left my phone behind in case it was nicked. Things I use my phone for as well as, obviously, phoning and texting: taking photos; listening to podcasts; internet browsing including checking the Dart timetable; telling the time (my watch is in for rather expensive repairs); navigating (google maps); paying for stuff (Apple pay, everyone has digital payments now, even the man selling ice cream from a van at the beach). I was surprised at how unnerved I was heading out without it. I mean I only got a smart phone for the first time in 2011, I have lived 80% of my life without one. I felt a bit of an idiot for being so dependent. You will be delighted to hear that I managed to get myself out for the afternoon without my phone and inspected the newly pedestrianised streets of Dun Laoghaire (grand, good even) and have a swim in Seapoint (heaving) and cycle without getting lost. No photos though.

Poor Mr. Waffle had a work call at 9 in the evening. But otherwise the evening was uneventful as we prepared ourselves mentally for our last week at work before the holidays and the arrival of the plumber and his accolytes at 7.30 in the morning. They were to begin the much deferred bathroom revamp (deferred from last October but in a very real way deferred from 2013 when we moved in and couldn’t afford to do it up – we’ve been living with the previous owners tiles for a long time). I feel a whole new post will be required to cover the bathroom excitement. Hold on to your hats out there.

*It’s alphabetical by language in the language. So Spanish is ES – looks out of order right? ES is the ISO code for Spanish but, obviously, Castellano is the Spanish for Spanish so it appears not after Danish as you would expect but after Bulgarian. The same is true for Finnish which reflects in its position the fact that Suomi is the Finnish for Finnish. Hours of harmless entertainment for all the family. I’m not sure I can stop at any time any more which is its own concern to be honest.

Heatwave!

18 July, 2021
Posted in: Cork, Dublin, Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Twins, Work, Youngest Child

Monday, July 12, 2021

Daniel came back from basketball camp crippled after a day of intensive exercise. I saw him limping down the stairs and he said, “This is like ‘The Lord of the Rings’. It’s going to be a very lengthy journey.” Poor child. And he had to cycle to and from the venue. He was exhausted.

It was peak marching season in the North. At this time of year, I always feel sorry for the Northern Ireland tourist board.

Tuesday, July 13, 2021

My covid vaccination cert arrived by email. I am now free to travel all around the EU. The thrill. For the moment, I will, alas, be staying at home. Herself was supposed to be going to London next week and after much grief and heartache we decided to cancel the flight. Poor miss.

Apparently indoor dining is to be allowed for the vaccinated and their children under 18 from July 26. Does this mean we leave our 18 year old out on the terrace when we go for meals on our family holiday in August?

Herself returned from Cork in great form having had a restorative couple of days. She and my brother get on like a house on fire. She is trying to drag him into the 21st century. He’s a work in progress.

Wednesday, July 14, 2021

Bastille Day, my father always liked to celebrate this and was almost always in France to do so. I thought fond thoughts of him.

Daniel arrived home from basketball camp burnt to a cinder (it was supposed to be indoors but they went outside for lunch and he had no sunscreen). I’m beginning to wonder whether he will make it out of there alive.

Herself bought some of her course books and they arrived and she is delighted with herself. I’d say she’ll enjoy college.

Thursday, July 15, 2021

Daniel and Mr. Waffle went to the Aviva stadium along with 6,000 other people. It was the biggest sporting outing in a while. They saw local heroes Bohemians demolish some club from Iceland. Great rejoicing all round.

Friday, July 16, 2021

It was very warm indeed. In a welcome return to normality, the Princess and I had lunch outside on a terrace. We both enjoyed it very much.

In what was definitely not normal, but pleasant all the same, Daniel and I prepped for a barbecue dinner. He and I have started working together on Friday night dinner and we’re quite enjoying the challenge of our family of tricky eaters.

Saturday, July 17, 2021

I had breakfast at the end of the garden sitting on our fancy new wooden bench. It was extraordinarily warm. I was sheltered by the tall bamboo growing between our garden and next door. Our older neighbours are a bit deaf. When they sit out, they have a penchant for jazz classics which they play at what I am sure they think is a perfectly acceptable volume. It is actually pretty loud. Mr. Waffle has taken to referring to the end of the garden as the “Bamboo lounge”. It’s pleasant; the green shade, the gliding bench and the jazz classics in the background. Glad I don’t mind jazz though.

The Irish Times was full of interest featuring the sale of the cousins’ house in the property bit and information on a new gardening programme on the back page. Three gardeners will come and judge your garden (one of 18) and presumably some prize will be given to the best overall garden. I was a bit surprised to see that one of the three judges is next door’s gardener who has done a bit of work for us as well. We rang him recently to come and tidy up the garden but he said the earliest he can come is October. No wonder when he is off filming. I can attest that he is a good gardener.

That evening for cinema night we enjoyed the first fruits of Ireland joining the Francophonie. You think I am joking but I assure you, I am not. The upshot of this was I got free access to a French film for Bastille Day (long story) and I put it up on the big screen for our family viewing. Very enjoyable, actually: I can recommend “Le Sens de la FÃªte” which is funny and suitable for family viewing. Not always a given with our film night choices.

Sunday July 18, 2021

I think our parish priest might be on his summer holidays. We had a substitute who gave an excellent sermon. Did you know that the etymology of the English word “nous” is from the Greek for mind, intelligence? That was only the beginning. The role of St Jerome in translating repent, Laudato Si’ and climate change, the bishop’s crozier; it was all happening. On the way home, Michael said, “Are we in trouble when the church is more concerned about climate change than our Governments?” Maybe so, maybe so.

Having spent all of the previous day commuting between the hammock and the bamboo lounge, I decided I would go out and have a swim. No one was interested in coming with me so I went on my own and it was quite satisfactory. The suburban beaches were full to the brim but the water was the warmest I have ever experienced in Ireland (the sunshine, the quantity of infant wee, sewage in Dublin bay, a combination of these?), I didn’t even have to pause for a moment on heading in to the water.

Then when I got home, I had some work to do which had been hanging over me all weekend. I spent a good hour at it but it’s going to need more than that. Sigh. I have decide to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow and finish it off in the office.

Possibly time for bed. I hope the weather is pleasant where you are.

Almost at the End of the Road

27 June, 2021
Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Sunday, June 13, 2021

I went to in person mass for the first time in a long time. Fine, you know, mass like.

I realised that notwithstanding my freedom to go anywhere in the country I had perversely not ventured further than 2kms from my home all weekend.

Monday, June 14, 2021

I had a medical check-up before work. Spoiler alert, I’m fine but could be thinner. I had a spectacular bruise on my arm all week from where they took blood.

My brother reported from his holiday in West Cork. His clutch gave out between Barleycove and Goleen. This is not a good place for your clutch to give out; I will give you that. He seemed relatively unpreturbed.

Herself had Irish paper 1 and maths paper 2. I startled a poor schoolgirl who was getting her lunch in the same shop as me by asking her how she thought the maths paper had gone. Look, I was curious to know. It went fine you will be pleased to hear both for herself and the girl in the sandwich shop.

We’ve had a bit of a re-org at work and I find myself doing my old job and my new job at least temporarily so only dragged myself away from the excitement of this about 8 in the evening. Alas.

The boys’ school reports turned up. Pretty good all things considered including that they have had a mostly online school year.

Tuesday June 15, 2021

It was my mother’s second anniversary. My sister sent me flowers. Unclear how I managed to forget until then but I did I fear. I can’t believe it’s been two years since she died. It seems in some ways to have gone very quickly.

Herself had Irish paper 2 which passed off peacefully and Daniel, yet again, had training. Since his return to hurling he now has training/matches four nights a week and on Saturday afternoons. I am not sure how sustainable this is. It is making week night dinner a bit challenging. We can either eat before 6.30 or after 8.30. So, it’s 8.30 most of the time. That’s ok in the summer holidays but I can see it being problematic once we’re back to school.

My little niece in London turned 4. It’s so weird that we haven’t seen her in the flesh since she was 2 and now she’ll be going to school in the autumn. Wretched Covid.

Wednesday, June 16, 2021

It was Bloomsday. Lots of coverage but relatively limited impact on me. I took a picture of the seagull babies standing in the chimney tops opposite my office.

Herself had her French exam. It was fine.

Thursday, June 17, 2021

Herself agonised a bit about whether she would skip the art written exam and rely on her calculated grade but in the end she went in. It’s so strange this year when loads of them are skipping exams because they have the calculated grade to fall back on.

Friday, June 18, 2021

I booked us in to various activities for when we spend a couple of nights in Carlingford. I rang the office. God, I love to talk to people and explain what I want rather than filling in the online booking form. The man I spoke to recommended a number of restaurants in the town for our dinner as well. Is this available from an online booking form? It is not.

After dropping my bike off for a post-purchase tune up, I hopped into the car and drove to Cork. It was my first time back in Cork since my father died. It was a bit strange but I was very glad to be back. My brother was still in Schull so my sister kindly offered to feed me which was just as well. This was the state of the fridge in my parents’ house.

And, the unkindest cut, this was the state of the tea caddy.

I always forget how much later it gets dark in Cork that in Dublin. My sister and I went for a walk around the Lough and here it is at 10.30 at night.

No filter as the young people say.

I went home to my parents’ house and spent the night there alone – the first time in as long as I can remember that my sleep was undisturbed by the BBC World Service blaring from the bedroom next door.

Saturday, June 19, 2021

I went into the Crawford Gallery which had a good exhibition. It juxtaposed research about people who were killed in the War of Independence with recent pictures of the places where their bodies were found. It was strange to think of these perfectly ordinary places where I have passed hundreds of times without a second thought being the sites of violent deaths.

I went into the Market to buy some food for my lunch and I was greeted by the sight of this wreath. So much for the Rebel County moniker.

I thought that town looked a bit grim. A lot of places closed down and overall a bit grubby and depressed. Over a year of Covid has not been particularly kind to Cork.

There was much talk of Princeâ€™s Street being pedestrianised and people dining out and it was nice but limited.

That said, there were a lot of new buildings since my last visit and a lot of ongoing works. The Square Deal furniture shop on Washington Street (my mother’s nemesis – “how can that place keep going when it sells such ugly furniture?”) has been knocked down and presumably something will arise in its place.

After lunch I went across to College to pick up a Father’s Day present for Mr. Waffle. For someone who did not go to UCC he has an impressive collection of t-shirts from there. College was pretty quiet but the shop was open and there was a wedding in the the Honan Chapel and a small group of students graduating. The beginnings of a return to normality.

I spent the rest of the afternoon packing up items from my parents’ house to bring back to Dublin. I found it curiously exhausting and depressing. I checked each item with my siblings and they were quite relaxed about seeing them go, indeed, I was encouraged to take more. On this preliminary raid, I took 4 boxes of stuff including (with mild reluctance) 9 volumes of Peyps. Peyps was a great favourite of my father’s but I’ve never read any of the diaries myself. No time like the present, I suppose.

That evening we had a small birthday celebration for my aunt who turned 92 either on June 20 or22; her mother and her birth cert disagreed and this dispute has never been satisfactorily resolved and it is unlikely to be now.

We reminisced about my father a bit and we were reminded by my aunt how, very annoyingly, when asked to tell a story to his children he would say, “One dark and stormy night the captain sat down and said to the mate, ‘Mate, mate, tell us a story,” so the mate sat down and said to the captain, ‘One dark and stormy night the captain sat down and said to the mate, ‘Mate, mate, tell us a story.'” And so on until we gave up in despair.

My brother returned from West Cork â‚¬500 poorer but with his clutch repaired.

Sunday June 20, 2021 – Father’s Day

I went up to the graveyard to see my parents’ grave before driving back to Dublin. It’s a good graveyard and never fails to be of interest when I visit. My mother is buried in my father’s family plot and I thought of the old Irish proposal, “Do you want to be buried with my people?” Ah yes, romance.

When I got back to Dublin, everyone showed a gratifying level of interest in the unboxing from Cork even though it was mostly ware.

Herself had expressed an interest in the gossip chair so I brought that back for her. She seemed gratified.

Neither Mr. Waffle nor I have fathers any more which is odd and something we are still getting used to – not that either father was a great believer in Father’s Day.

Daniel was meeting a friend in Liffey Valley shopping centre (miles away) and I collected him. Honestly, it’s so far away, I felt I was half way back to Cork by the time I got there. We live quite near the centre of Dublin, you would think that this might be a handy spot to meet friends.

Monday, June 21, 2021

The longest day of the year. I met a friend for lunch which was delightful. Herself went out for dinner with friends to a gastropub in Leixlip of all places. Again, I would say, what is wrong with the city centre, did all of these Dublin based people really need to go to another county? She had a wonderful time though and it was great to pick her up and see her so happy and animated. She hasn’t had much fun this year. “Did you tell them that Leixlip is a Viking place name? As you know, Leix is the same root as Lax and it means salmon leap,” said I. “No, I didn’t, as I felt I was as weird as I needed to be without mentioning it” she said, “but if it’s any comfort to you, I thought it.” My work here is done.

Tuesday, June 22, 2021

Herself stopped me on the stairs as I was leaving for work to tell me she had a bad dream about physics. Ah, the Leaving Cert dreams, they are starting early.

Mr. Waffle’s soccer started back. He’s delighted. I’m delighted for him.

Wednesday, June 23, 2021

Herself had her dreaded physics exam. Alas, it did not go well and she is slightly in the horrors but I remain reasonably optimistic that between this and the predicted grade she might yet get what she needs but she was pretty glum, God love her.

In more cheering news, the plumber who had really gone to ground says he will come and redo the bathroom this month. I’ll believe it when I see it but at least we have a quote now which is progress.

And even more cheering, I got notified of my second vaccine appointment.

Thursday, June 24, 2021

After an absolutely epic administrative battle with Eir, Mr. Waffle succeeded in getting my old phone unlocked and it has been passed on to Michael who is only mildly pleased.

I went in to work without my coat as it was so fine and got sodden as I cycled home in the lashing rain. Alas.

Friday, June 25, 2021

Mr. Waffle ordered a gliding bench for the back garden. It is identical to one which was in his parents’ house and I am delighted with it. He is a genius. First unlocking the phone now this; what a man.

Herself had her last exam (applied maths) and now it is all over. It’s so weird to think that she will never be a student in the school again. She’s had a tough couple of years with Covid and the exams felt like they went on forever. I’m so glad that she’s finished, she really needs a break.

She’s also finished with all of her maths notes.

Saturday, June 26, 2021

Myself and Michael went to the National Museum. He didn’t hate it. Looks like a win for me.

My brother (a mere 48), got his second dose of the vaccine in Cork.

For cinema night we had “Lola Rennt”. A very popular German film from the 90s but no longer so readily available. Mr. Waffle had his Scottish friend in Vienna buy the DVD and post it to him and then sprung it upon his unsuspecting public. Am I married to the world’s most organised man? Why yes, I think I am.

Sunday, June 27, 2021

Herself got the train to Killarney where she and her friends are spending a couple of days to celebrate the end of the exams. Killarney is the new Ibiza, apparently.

I got my second vaccine dose. It wasn’t quite as efficient as the first time around but I was in and out of the centre in under an hour including 15 minutes in the observation room so not bad either. I’m feeling a bit tired but otherwise symptom free. I am so delighted to be vaccinated and so pleased that my fellow citizens feel the same with really high levels of take-up.

It was a beautiful day and we took the boys to the Botanic Gardens which was fine and, as far as they were concerned, less awful than other outings I might have dreamed up.

And in a final, and to be honest, unwelcome, sign that things are getting back to normal, I got a message from the church baptism group – looks like we’re back on duty in July.

Are you too taking tentative steps back to normality? Will life ever be the same again?

Easter!

7 April, 2021
Posted in: Belgium, Cork, Dublin, Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Twins, Youngest Child

Monday March 29, 2021

We persist in watching “CharitÃ©” 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 “CharitÃ©” 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.