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Princess

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like etc.

12 December, 2021
Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Saint Nicolas is such a trooper. It’s now 13 years since we lived in Belgium but he left sweets in the boys’ shoes for the morning of December 6.

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They were off school so I asked them to record the event when they got up as Mr. Waffle and I would be gone to work. Delighted with the quality content, frankly. That sounds sarcastic but is absolutely true. Tone can be difficult to convey.

Meanwhile their sister sent us footage of herself and her friends swimming in Kent. I think we can take it that she is fully recovered from her Covid dose.

On Tuesday and Wednesday, the schools in Dublin were closed for Storm Barra. The boys were delighted by this unexpected turn of events.

Storm Barra brought some wind and lots of rain. Our drains blocked and a neighbour came and unblocked them. Now in the mornings on my way out to work, I go and hover by the downpipe rejoicing in the efficient draining action beneath. Funny the twists and turns life takes.

Somebody (the culprit has not owned up) broke the slow close toilet seat again. This is the second time this has happened since August so now we have a plastic replacement. Less beautiful but more durable.

I had lunch with my boss from 25 years ago who is retiring from her, now lofty, role. I think she would prefer not to be going and I really felt for her but, you know, the idea of not going back to work after Christmas definitely has superficial appeal. I also met my oldest friend for a pre-Christmas lunch and we had a great chat. She was abroad for a long time and it is quite lovely that she is home now; a Skype call is not as good as an in person lunch, it just isn’t.

Mr. Waffle and I went to a local cafe for breakfast on Saturday. Last week when we were there, for no reason that we could initially determine, our waiter started speaking to us in French. We gamely responded but we were a bit baffled. It turned out that he had spotted Mr. Waffle had the Canard and, reasonably enough, felt that if he could manage that, Mr. Waffle would be able to do his ordering in French. A part of me was slightly relieved to get a different waiter, I’m not sure I’m up to French at breakfast time every Saturday.

We went out for a walk on the pier this afternoon and I can’t believe how much better my heel has got since the summer when even short walks were a bit painful. Rejoice.

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Mr. Waffle bought me the Holly Bough. We got the RTE guide Christmas special. Our Christmas entertainment is now taken care of.

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We put up the Christmas tree and decorated the house over the weekend.

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I have bought many presents and written many Christmas cards but not all in either case but I have decided it’s a pretty good start. This evening we had the street lighting up party. We all put on our outside lights (and to think I used to disapprove of outside lights, how the mighty have fallen) and had mulled wine and homemade mince pies with the neighbours outside. How are your own Christmas preparations going?

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Advent Begins – The Season of Waiting

28 November, 2021
Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins

Mr. Waffle took Dan to the airport for a fresh Covid test in an abundance of caution (mine). Mr. Waffle got up at 5 in the morning yesterday to book it and then they had to wait two hours for him to take it. Alas. We await hearing.

In continued surprises from Sunday mass, the priest quoted from Emily Dickinson’s “Hope is the thing with feathers” in his sermon in a bid to cheer us all up as we contemplate the next Covid variant (how soon before we run out of letters of the Greek alphabet, depressingly soon by the looks of things?).

In England herself says she is feeling a bit better.

I went into town to do some Christmas shopping. No joy really but town was looking very nice with the Christmas lights up.

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Inspired by Emily, I went into Bewley’s for a cup of tea. More accurately, I joined the queue for tea outside in the freezing cold. When I got to the door, I could not find my mask so I left. As I bitterly put my stuff into my bicycle carrier, didn’t the wretched mask fall from between the pages of the paper? I hummed and hawed but went back and joined the end of the queue and waited and waited. A waitress came out to the frozen pundits on the street and said it would be half an hour for a table. I was committed at this stage. 15 minutes later, her colleague came out and said it would be 20 minutes for a table (ok, I suppose) and as they closed in 20 minutes, there was no longer any point in waiting. I was incandescent with rage. I went to the Queen of Tarts, an old favourite of mine, closed, looked a bit permanently closed, I do hope not. I cycled homewards in the freezing cold and stopped off at a local old reliable cafe. Closing and unable to accommodate me. That’s right, a city of nearly a million people and not a cup of tea to be had. I got home having spent nearly two hours trying to get a cup of tea. Snort.

In other Advent news, my sister gave me an Advent calendar in the form of a box of skin and beauty care. As it was the first day of Advent I pulled it out from under the bed. “Beauty lies within” it announced. “Surprisingly frank,” I thought for a moment. Honestly, could they not have chosen a better slogan? I had to ring her up to find out how I was to use the first item I received, I think it may be a bit sophisticated for me and my beauty regime.

The Crown Season 2

26 November, 2021
Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Princess

So, back to the dentist to get my tooth fixed. This afternoon he did prep work which involved a fair amount of drilling. At this moment, I have a numb mouth and a temporary crown. I’m back in on December 17 to get my permanent crown. The Friday before Christmas, I rejoice.

In other news, herself appears to be improving, I base this on the reduced communication levels. She has had one of her poems published in a college magazine and is pleased.

And, finally, something else in the good news side of the ledger. I am very, very slowly making my way through a fat volume on the history of Dublin. There was a passing reference to the Worth Library which I had never heard of before. I emailed to find out about visiting hours and I got a lovely telephone call from the librarian, thanking me for my interest and pointing me towards their online exhibitions. Alas, they are closed due to Covid but hope to open up to tours again in the Spring. I am quite excited. Middle-aged thrills.

Oh No Redux

25 November, 2021
Posted in: Middle Child, Princess, Siblings, Twins, Youngest Child

So off she went for her PCR at 11.30 this morning and at 8.15 this evening she got her positive result. Alas alack though impressively speedy work by the British testing people, I must say. I spoke briefly to her this morning and she was pretty miserable – in a bad cold kind of way – but not at death’s door.

My sister is a big fan of moonpig which does personalised cards. She went online and got the Princess a card with a personalised message and my sister’s cartoon of a corona virus on the inside. Unfortunately the site kept crashing and my sister had a lot of difficulty with it. This is why the personalised greeting card has, “Get well soon, Caroline!” on the front. The Princess’s name is not Caroline. Funnily enough when I mentioned moonpig at home, both boys said, “Uh oh, data breach,” so perhaps not where you should go for your personalised greeting cards.

In other news, we had online parent-teacher meetings for the boys this evening. This was extremely stressful. I had to be in the office and called in from there and Mr. Waffle and each boy in turn were tuning in from home. The format was five minutes per appointment. It was like academic speed dating. I turned up in other people’s meetings, they turned up in ours, I couldn’t get in to some teachers, the home team couldn’t get in to others. I mean it was better than nothing but I wouldn’t call it a triumph for new technology. On the plus side the teachers love my children. They’re both doing fine, thanks v much. My favourite nugget from the evening was the following: Michael tends to finish his in class economics exercises ahead of the other students and when he’s finished, he pulls out his book from his bag and starts reading, an activity which is apparently tolerated by the economics teacher but he is keen that Michael would stop reading promptly when class recommences. I can imagine.

Oh No!

24 November, 2021
Posted in: Princess

I rang herself this morning and, startlingly, she picked up the phone. She has a nasty cold and she was miserable. While I was on the phone with her she did three lateral flow tests [swab over your tonsils or where your tonsils would be – best line from the instructions]. Two of the three tests were positive for Covid. She’s locked up in her room and she’s booked in for a PCR test and, you never know, it might be negative but I am not optimistic. My poor child, it is no fun being sick when there is no one to look after you. And she was supposed to be going to Paris at the weekend. Alas alack.

Her father has ordered a box of goodies for her to cheer her up. Poor miss.

War and Peace

19 November, 2021
Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

The issue of bathroom towels is a vexed one in this house.

Firstly by way of background, my husband’s family are obsessed with towels. If we are staying in self-catering accommodation the very first question is always, “Do we have to bring our own towels?”

We are not a family who uses a towel once and puts in the wash. Each towel gets several uses. Here is what happens. Mr. Waffle comes to the bathroom. He deems all of the towels in use inadequate and gets a fluffy new one from the hot press. He does not put a towel in the laundry basket. I come to the bathroom last and the place is swathed in damp towels. I have no objection to people getting fresh towels (particularly, I suppose when those people do all the laundry in the house) but I do object to people not throwing the used damp towels in the laundry basket.

Over the summer I went on strike and stopped putting used towels in the laundry basket. Things began to get unbearable until herself took over. As she said, “Please stop this war, it’s always the children who suffer the most.”

But more recently, all seems to be well. A bit baffling. I said as much to Daniel in the car on the way to training. “Oh,” said he, “Michael puts the towels in the laundry basket now, but I saw him doing it and made him put out a fresh one because I know that’s what you like.” I fear I may not have been entirely clear.

And that, people, is the kind of content you are likely to get for the remainder of the month. Hold on to your hats.

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