Princess

Into the West – Holidays Week 2

7 September, 2021
Posted in: Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel, Twins, Youngest Child

Did you think that I wouldn’t finish my holiday post? Are you crazy?

Sunday, August 8, 2021

We drove to Sligo via the midlands. Can I tell you that there is nowhere, absolutely nowhere to get a cup of tea in Edgesworthstown (ancestral homeland of Maria Edgeworth whose family owned the local big house) on a Sunday afternoon? We were luckier in Longford and managed to get an outdoor lunch at 4 in the afternoon for which relief much thanks.

We arrived in Sligo in the evening. We had rented an Airbnb in the town just opposite the Catholic and Protestant cathedrals which were situated next door to each other on a bend in the road. It was a busy road and, as herself pointed out, with the faithful now being neither nimble nor sprightly, having to cross a busy road on a blind corner to get to church was likely to be fatal to many of the congregation.

Anyway, the house had four lovely double bedrooms. Sadly the kitchen was tiny and we could just all sit down there and there was a total of 6 knives, forks, spoons and plates. Clearly it was designed as a couples’ getaway but not, I think for a family group who were hoping to eat in occasionally. The front room was tiny also but we could all sit there, so fine. The children scattered to their bedrooms once they were clear on the wifi codes.

Here’s Michael looking like he’s 102 and has lived in the Airbnb all his life.

Monday, August 9, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I went out early to try to find a walking tour of the town. The tourist office was closed for Covid reasons and there didn’t seem to be enough tourists to justify any walking tours so we took ourselves off and had a good look around the town. It has a French gothic style court house which showed that the 19th century Office of Public Works architects were given their heads more than you might think.

A lot of law firms near the court house, naturally. This one is famous in certain circles.

Bram Stoker’s mother was born in Sligo.

It’s quite a big town with it’s own independent existence and clearly not largely dependent on tourism. Lots of old fashioned department stores which I very much liked. However, overall, there are two big ticket items the Sligo tourist people plug: WB Yeats and surfing. Honestly, a strong interest in one or the other, or, ideally, both, is recommended.

In the afternoon we went out to Standhill to have a swim. You are not allowed to swim in Strandhill. It’s basically reserved for surfers. Too dangerous for swimmers. Allegedly. So, onwards to Rosses Point where everybody swam except Michael. Quite chilly.

Herself got her second vaccine appointment for a couple of days before the end of the holiday. She decided that she would rather go home a bit early than try to change it for Cork. Alas. Still, great that she is to be vaccinated.

Tuesday August 10, 2021

Herself and myself drove out to Strandhill to this cafe which is much beloved by the Irish Times and surfing hipsters alike. I thought it was ok – avocado eggs end of things – but pretty pricey. Also run by very young women one of whom used a sweeping brush to clear off an outside table which I found sub-optimal. Great view though.

We took ourselves back to the town and had a wander. Lunch was a bit unsatisfactory. Outdoor dining was chilly, the food wasn’t great and the table umbrella was poorly placed.

You see here herself and Michael channelling the energy of the group.

We went to the Model which is the local gallery – lots of Jack Yeats (brother of the more famous WB), quite good but small. We dropped in to the local library. This is something I like to do everywhere I go. I would say that of all the libraries I have visited, Sligo is safest from Covid. There was no browsing at all and people had to ask at a plastic encased counter for the books they wanted. It seemed excessive.

Footsore (I developed a sore heel which was only getting worse, so much more of this anon), we returned to the house where saintly Michael made dinner, the other children disappeared to their rooms and Mr. Waffle and I began work on the obligatory holiday jigsaw.

Wednesday, August 11, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I had a lovely breakfast in Lyon’s, an old fashioned department store.

Later, herself and myself hit the town and bought her a range of lovely dresses in the old fashioned shops which are quite a feature of Sligo.

Also, a lot of banks and former bank buildings converted to other uses.

It reminded me of Cork in the 1980s and I quite enjoyed my trip down memory lane except my heel was sore.

We went for a family surfing lesson in Strandhill in the afternoon. Michael was the only one among us who managed to stand up on his board. I mostly felt like Wally the Walrus as I heaved myself up onto the board and failed to catch any waves. Surfing is a lot harder than it looks but we did have a good time.

We had failed to book anywhere for dinner which was a huge mistake and we ended up having the vilest pizza known to man in a bar by the river. I have to say the town was heaving for a Wednesday night in August.

I limped home afterwards, the combination of my sore heel and the surfing rendered me almost entirely immobile for the remainder of the evening.

I noticed herself was a bit freckly despite constant reapplications of suncream. “I know,” she sighed “but as [the physics genius in her class] pointed out to me, the light is still hitting my face as otherwise I would be invisible.” Good point, physics genius.

Thursday, August 12, 2021

I woke up stiff all over. Herself, Mr. Waffle and I went out for breakfast. We had no real plans for the day but after the previous day’s surfing, I offered to buy wetsuits for any child who wanted one. Herself and Michael expressed an interest and we went to a wetsuit superstore around the corner from the Airbnb. We got one for Michael but notwithstanding the startling array of choices there was nothing to fit herself. The owner commented gloomily that there was a world wide wet suit shortage due to the Corona virus and he couldn’t get the stock. Apparently, in the absence of anything else to do, the world is now buying wetsuits and swimming in the sea all year round.

I attempted to take my book back to the library and arrived at 4.50 to discover that it closed at 4.45. I mean, why?

Mr. Waffle and Daniel watched a soccer match and then all of us, bar Michael who resolutely refused to come, drove out to Rosses Point to lie on our backs in the sand dunes in the dark in the hopes of seeing the Perseid shower which had been promised. It is very dark in Sligo which is good, obviously, but it was also very cloudy which was less good. Still it was atmospheric lying on our backs, listening to the sea, and trying to spot the odd star through the cloud cover.

We finished the jigsaw. A triumph.

Friday, August 13, 2021

We were all rudely awoken by hammering and drilling in the house next door at 6 in the morning. I leapt from the bed (no mean feat given that I was still recovering from the surfing extravaganza) in the mistaken belief that one of the children was pounding urgently on the bedroom door. Very bravely, Mr. Waffle went next door and pointed out that it was a bit early for works. They agreed it was and said that they thought the house next door was empty. We all went back to bed.

Later, Mr. Waffle and I went back to Lyons to again sample their delightful breakfast, but, alas, it was closed due to a Covid outbreak. We went instead to a trendier though less satisfactory venue. We had a look around Mullaney’s Drapery which is bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside.

As well as meeting all your tweed needs, it boasts a travel agent and general drapery. I bought a tweed throw. I couldn’t help myself, I’ve reached the age when all my furniture is artfully draped with throws, so it won’t go to waste. Grand old chat with the salesman who told us that the Borneo teak doors dated from 1910: lovely curving art nouveau door handles remain in situ as well.

I dropped into the Yeats museum and there was this absolutely wonderful description of the cholera epidemic of 1832 in Sligo by Bram Stoker’s mother. It seems to have been terrifying. Well worth clicking and enlarging the image below for a read.

Also pretty amused by this description of the entertainment available on the Dublin stage in the late 1920s. I am more surprised than I can say, that it went over well with audiences.

That afternoon, herself and I drove to Lissadell but, alas, it was closed due to Covid. We pushed on to Mullaghmore which has a beautiful beach.

I had a lovely swim notwithstanding the slightly unusual warning notice on the approach to the beach. Sligo is full of surprises. And only 12km from Donegal. Who knew?

Mr. Waffle and I went out for our deferred 20th anniversary dinner that evening. The restaurant was nice and the food was nice. I mean, fine, nice, pleasant but not exceptional. I had the cheese board instead of dessert and I was served three pieces of small, slightly dull cheese for which we were charged â‚¬15 which struck me as excessive. In fact in general, I thought Ireland was an expensive place to holiday this year. Eating out, in particular, was expensive but the food was generally only alright. That said it was really difficulty to get in anywhere so I guess the restaurant and pub owners of Ireland know what they are doing.

Saturday August 14, 2021

We went back to Mullaney’s to get a tweed jacket for herself. Something that would last a lifetime. Sadly, they had nothing in her size. Sales have apparently been slow in the absence of Americans. However, the enterprising salesman was quick to pull out a picture of Taylor Swift in an Aran jumper as an inducement to the purchase of same (although he could not quite recall her name). We bought her an Aran jumper.

Mr. Waffle had been keen to climb up to a local landmark: an enormous neolithic tomb. I was a bit reluctant because of my sore heel but said I would give it a go. I was really glad I did. Firstly, it turns out that uphill is fine for my heel. Secondly, the views were magnificent and the tomb pretty impressive (and I speak as someone who as a child was dragged to every megalithic tomb in Munster and can identify a wedge shaped gallery grave from three fields away).

We parked in the fantastically named “Queen Maeve’s Grave Car Park”. Locally the tomb is associated with Queen Maeve. If you have been paying attention (look, I know you have), you will recall that we had been in Carlingford the previous week. This is on the Cooley peninsula where Queen Maeve undertook her famous cattle raid which is an integral part of her legend, so we were basically following her around.

Your correspondent enjoys an ancient monument:

After this early success, we went to Strandhill for lunch. Disastrous, the food was dear and mediocre and the weather was miserable for outdoor dining. We were not living the dream.

We hopped into the car and headed on to Galway which turned out to be a two hour drive away. Who knew that Sligo was so far from everywhere else? I would definitely go back though, it’s a very beautiful part of the world and quite underrated, I think.

Still glad to get to our hotel in Galway where we had booked a swim in the pool and then had the unmitigated thrill of indoor dining for the five of us for the first time on the holidays. The rules are elaborate but here’s a summary: fully vaccinated adults can eat indoors on production of a cert; children under 18 can eat indoors whether vaccinated or not; anyone staying in a hotel regardless of age or vaccination status can eat indoors. A complex compromise but a very welcome one as it was lashing and we did not fancy going around trying to find an outdoor dining venue.

Sunday August 15, 2021

Herself had a friend who was in Galway so she went off with him and his Galway friends for the day. Mr. Waffle, the boys and I wandered the quaint streets of the old town. Galway is lovely and very atmospheric but, I’ve noticed this before, there’s relatively little to do in the town unless you want to meet friends in a pub and listen to traditional music. We went to Spanish Arch, Galway’s most famous landmark, and the boys said, “Is this it?” This is fair, it’s a bit underwhelming. Galway is much more about strolling around and enjoying the general ambience but that is useless if you’re a 15 year old boy. On the plus side, as herself was off with friends, we were able to go indoors to Milano’s for lunch which the boys loved.

I booked us in to an escape room for the afternoon. It was a bit hard for us – generally we do reasonably well but we were pretty stumped and had to ask for a number of clues and I found it a bit dull as we waited around for enlightenment. On the plus side, we got good value for our money, as we stayed for ages and herself was pleased as she identified herself as the secret sauce which had helped us to triumph in the past.

We took ourselves back to the hotel for a swim and dinner mentally exhausted.

Stay tuned for the next installment where we go South.

A Life Online

3 September, 2021
Posted in: Princess

Herself was 18 on April 12. This is a belated birthday post. They almost always are.

I’ve been writing about her here since she was 8 months old. She featured in my first ever blog post.

I sometimes wondered about the wisdom of including all this information about her online. I really started the blog because we were living abroad; I was lonely at home alone with a small baby; and I wanted to let my family know how we were getting on.

And then I have a personality that likes to finish things. So I kept going. Long after every other blogger in the world moved on, here I am still updating away.

I feel insofar as herself is concerned, it’s mostly pretty harmless stuff. I wanted a record for her of what her life was like in the small ordinary ways. When she was very small, I remember Mr. Waffle saying, we will keep all her medical records perfectly and we have a paper record of every vaccine and booster she got, safely filed away. Mr. Waffle and I are both avid filers but I am the family archivist: the blog, the carefully printed and labeled photo albums. It’s like I am trying to stop the endless, remorseless march of time.

Here’s an early photo of herself – before the arrival of her brothers – with doggy proudly displayed. How she loved that toy. How many of them we had to find online and buy as replacements for those lost on our journeys to and from Brussels.

Then her brothers arrived. It was undoubtedly a shock to her system. One to which she continues to adapt.

From the very beginning her brothers looked up to her and she whipped them into line. She still does. She asserts their rights (and her own) against the oppressive dictatorship of her parents.

We came home from Belgium when she was five. Unlike her brothers, she retains memories of the Belgian school system and the flat where we lived. We put her straight into an Irish language school. She didn’t even know that English language schools were available, the poor mite. For years, she loathed Irish but something happened when she was about 13 or 14 and she started to love it. She is so good at it now and did all her exams through Irish which is no joke.

I moved heaven and earth to keep her French alive, having a series of French childminders so that she never lost touch with the language. We sent her to France for three months in Transition Year. Honestly, it nearly broke my heart to send her abroad for so long at only 15 but she loved it and her written French improved immensely. Through the placement programme she met children from all over the world and is still in touch with lots of them giving me live news from her friend in Argentina or Iceland or the US.

She always wanted to be away and independent. She longed to go to an Irish language boarding school in Dingle when she was 12 but we resisted.

She likes harder books than me now but I remember when she was about 10 or 11 she read Amy Chua’s tiger mother book. And then she read it again and again. Why she wondered was she not playing Carnegie Hall. I am a pretty competitive person though nothing compared to my mother. She spent a lot of time with my mother when we came back to Ireland and I can’t help wondering about that formative influence. I remember one of our childminders saying, “She frightens me a little, she is so small, she knows so much, and she is so smart.” She added application and single mindedness to her natural ability and the results are impressive.

And then she became an excellent and competent public speaker: announcing, debating, chairing every type of student council and organisation. She loves that kind of thing though sometimes I did wonder whether she bit off more than she could chew.

She never really liked sport much. She did a bit of horse riding on summer holidays over the years and played GAA for a season aged 6 but it would be hard to say that she was an enthusiast.

She quite liked skiing but it’s not really a sport that lends itself to regular outings, at least, not if you live in Ireland.

While she always cycled to school, since lockdown she has become a champion cyclist, going all over the city and heading off on 30-40km bike rides with her uncle over the summer.

Since she was very small, she’s been interested in cooking. She’s kept it up and added to her repertoire over the years. She’s a much better cook than I am and I feel we are sending her out into the world with excellent survival skills in this regard.

She became a vegetarian when she was about 14. I was horrified. But she stuck to her guns. She usually does. I remember telling her irately that vegetarians have to eat vegetables. And she did, she expanded her diet beyond all recognition. I still regret that she cut out meat though but she is nothing if not determined.

I’m very glad we brought her back to Ireland when we did as she got a chance to know her grandparents. Three of her four grandparents have died since June 2019 and her fourth grandparent is in a nursing home with dementia. I love that she got to know them before they became ill. My mother was one of her greatest fans and she was a source of endless delight to my mother, even as my mother became more and more unwell from Parkinson’s disease.

One of the many things I like about her is how very funny she is. She is the most entertaining company. I love to talk to her.

She gives good advice as well and is insightful about problems. She has a mind like a steel trap and never forgets anything. She is inside my head. She always knows what I think about everything and what I am thinking at any given moment. This can be handy but is also a little unnerving.

Many, many years ago, before I had even met Mr. Waffle, I remember talking to a friend about having children and the pros and cons. She said to me, “You don’t want to have children, you just want to create adults to chat to.” A bit harsh but there might be something in it.

I feel so sorry for all the young people and the years that have been taken from them by Covid. Herself was 16 when it started, just about to turn 17.

She had such a great social life with friends from school and all friend she had met on courses and committees. She loved going out in the city centre. Wherever we went in Dublin, she seemed to run into friends and then abruptly it was all taken from her. She was so stoic. It was hard.

And then all the uncertainty about school closures and examinations. As part of her ongoing plan to leave home, she decided she wanted to go to college in England. She was offered a place which was an arduous process in itself but then she had to do really well in her exams to be able to take it up. The exams mostly went very well but Physics presented some problems. I wasn’t sure she was going to get what she needed. It seemed very unfair but a part of me thought it would be good for her to stay in Ireland. I know in England and the US, students mostly go away for college but in Ireland they mostly stay at home. And I hadn’t quite bargained for her going away.

She got her Leaving Cert results today. One of the nice things about this is that its such a big deal in Ireland that everyone knows. Loads of people contacted me to wish her luck. She did really, really well – better than both her parents who, may I tell you, were no slouches – and has more than safely secured her place in England. My mother would have been so thrilled; that was the first thing I said to herself and the first thing my sister said to her as well.

I am delighted for her, I really am. It’s going to be great. I have every confidence in her ability to live alone and manage swimmingly. She is going to love studying in college; she’s made for it. I have no worries about her, none at all.

No, it’s me, I’m worried about. I am just not quite ready for her to leave home. Who will read my mind now? She’s emigrating at the end of the month and, no, I’m not ready but she really is.

On Holidays – Week 1

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

Monday, August 2, 2021 – Bank Holiday

The plumber returned. He’s keen to finish at least. We drove up to Carlingford, Co. Louth for the first leg of our holidays. It’s about 90 minutes from Dublin so a short drive. We stayed in the delightful, though oddly named, Ghan House. Recommended.

We had lunch in the town which is right beside the hotel. Inspired by friends, I had booked us in for activities. After lunch we went zip lining. We all quite enjoyed it. The children are experts and I found myself reasonably alright except for the time I got stuck in the middle of the zip line like Boris Johnson at the London Olympics.

Our hotel restaurant, sadly, did not open for dinner on Mondays. We went into the town in hunt of food. It was not very successful. We were briefly seated outdoors at a pizza joint but no sooner had we got our legs under the (socially distanced, no you can’t move the tables together even if you are from the same household) tables than the waitress arrived out and said, “We’re not serving anymore, the kitchen is closed.” This was 8 in the evening but there you are. Mr. Waffle said that it was like the staff were from Communist Eastern Europe and were having no truck with the idle ways of the West.

We had a slightly difficult combination in that the boys and Mr. Waffle and I could eat indoors but herself as an only partially vaccinated over 18 had to be accommodated outdoors. Eventually, a nice woman took our number and our order and said she would call us when an outdoor table came free. We mooched around the (v pretty) town a bit.

We admired King John’s castle. Imposing but, you know, we were a bit hungry.

Herself suggested we go back to the hotel bar. There were no staff in but they had an honour system and herself went behind the bar with her hand sanitiser and got us all drinks.

A great time was had by all but we were nonetheless, pretty pleased to get a call about 9.15 that our table was ready.

Carlingford isn’t perhaps the best spot for vegetarian options. Herself said that, having missed breakfast in the haste of our departure, she had had vegetable soup for every meal. Alas.

Tuesday, August 3, 2021

We were up with the lark to go off canoeing. I may have overdone the whole activity thing. Mr. Waffle and I had only a very brief opportunity to admire the view from what I think was the best room in the house.

We trekked off to the adventure centre and down to the water where we all got into wetsuits. Herself said that Michael and I looked like “Fattypuffs and Thinifers“. Neither of us was delighted. However, the actual outing was fun and our guide took us to a cave and had us stand under a mountain stream which, due solely to his remarkable enthusiasm levels, we were all clamouring to try.

After our adventure, we drove out of town to this, pricey enough but pleasant, garden centre/shop/cafe. It was in the middle of nowhere and proof, as herself pointed out while we stood in the queue for food, that if you build it they will come.

We had a quiet afternoon, exhausted from our activities. I thought I had bruised my sides but it turned out to be muscles I never knew existed squealing in agony following the unexpected activity. I went into town and visited the craft shops. I love a craft shop but I am trying to stop buying things as my parents’ house is full of things that I will be finding a home for and where on earth will I put everything.

We had booked dinner in the hotel and, cunningly, reckoning that there would be nothing Michael would eat, when booking I had asked could they make pasta and pesto for him. It was not a success, he was offended and grumpy and as herself has observed, this family runs at the rate of the grumpiest member. So even though the other two ordered away and the food was good, Michael’s outrage hovered over the meal like a gloomy rain cloud taking from the general bonhomie of the party. It was the first time we had eaten indoors (confusingly, herself can eat indoors if she is a resident in a hotel) and the portents were good but, alas, it was not a success.

Wednesday August 4, 2021

The activities continued unabated. We went to an escape room which was broadly enjoyable. In the course of our efforts to escape the young man who ran the centre had to give us hints via typed messages on a monitor. At one point one of the devices we needed was out of battery and I held it up to the camera gesturing that it was broken in the belief that he could see but not hear us. The monitor popped into life saying, “I can hear youse, ha, ha, ha”. This may have been moment of the match for me.

After the escape room triumph we went to the local library (small but with a very good selection of books), an antique/bric-Ã -brac place (where I restrained myself from purchase with difficulty mostly on the basis that anything I wanted to buy was almost certainly available in my parents’ house somewhere for free) and more craft shops. I was fascinated by this item in the antique place. What, we ask ourselves, was its journey from Milton Keynes to Carlingford?

I enjoyed seeing a large dog make off with a slipper from a shoe shop with his owner in hot pursuit shouting angrily. The owner went back to the shoe shop and insisted on paying for the slippers although the woman in the shop was equally insistent she should not: it is a small town and they clearly knew each other. In fairness to the dog, I can see why it was hard for him to resist galloping off with this item clutched firmly in its jaw.

We had lunch at a food truck (in Carlingford, yes, very nice too, I have to say although it’s far from breakfast burritos we were reared etc.). I thought of visiting Dundalk or Drogheda but my friend from Dundalk pulled no punches in telling me that they were “fairly basic towns” with only St. Oliver Plunkett’s head to recommend them. The children balked at the saint’s head so, leaving that treat for another day, we headed home.

When we got home, the plumbers were still there, there was grit everywhere and herself announced bitterly that there was an (as yet unused) toilet in her bedroom. As I pointed out to her, if we had visited St. Oliver Plunkett’s head, it might all have been sorted before we got home. She was uncomforted.

Thursday, August 5, 2021

I was up at 7 as the plumber was due at 7.30. You will recall that the work was to be finished last Friday. Mr. Waffle and I went out for breakfast leaving the children in bed. We ran into the postman who said that he had tried to deliver a parcel to us yesterday. We knew because we got the notice to collect it from the depot. “Never mind that,” said he, “I’ll drop it into you about 10 in the morning.” In fairness what a service.

We had invited friends of ours (a family of six who were over from the Netherlands – she’s Irish, he’s Dutch and the children are a mix but all v tall) to lunch. When the invitation was issued, we did not expect that the house would still be full of workmen who from time to time, as the mood suited them would turn off the water. We made a beautiful plum tart from the plums in the front garden. It looked amazing but, oh dear, tasted unbearably bitter. Alas.

Notwithstanding the logistical challenges, it was lovely to see our friends. The children all get on and we were all invited to our friend’s 50th birthday in the Hague in October. Very exciting. She made me laugh by telling me about her brother getting a new sign for his pub. The sign writer asked him, “Where do you want the apostrophes?” As though they were a decorative feature.

The plumber left without installing the sink which, for mysterious reasons, is not available until Monday week. Look we have a toilet and a shower. It’s a start.

Friday, August 6, 2021

A plumber free morning. Mr. Waffle took Daniel to a dentist’s appointment at 9.30 which I appear to have made in a moment of insanity. I believe my thinking was, let’s get it out of the way early. I dragged myself out of bed at 9.30 so that I would be up to let the postman in. Inevitably the doorbell rang at 9.35 while I was in the shower. I scooted down swathed in towels to pick up the parcel. The postman was unfazed. I assume he is well used to seeing people in various states of undress.

I made more jam. I am sick of jam. And it now appears that apple season has started.

We were supposed to go on a sailing trip around Dublin Bay in the afternoon. “No experience needed just buckets of enthusiasm,” said the website. I had definitely overdone the activity drive and no one, least of all myself, was in a position to display anything like buckets of enthusiasm so I was delighted when they rang up to cancel because of the weather.

A nice lady who lived on the road died. She was a great gardener and had given everyone cuttings over the years. A saintly neighbour offered to make up a bouquet for her from flowers from our gardens. Everyone was keen and she was immediately inundated with messages from people on their holidays saying, “Take stuff from my garden.” She did an amazing job and made up two big bouquets using all the flowers which seems to have been a big hit with the dead woman’s family.

One of the other neighbours said, “We must get you on to the flower arranging team for the church.” No good deed goes unpunished but I think she will probably be alright as she is, I believe, Protestant and it’s the local Catholic church for which her expertise is being sought. I’ll leave them to figure that one out themselves.

Saturday, August 7, 2021

I did almost nothing, exhausted by my week of exertions. My brother was supposed to be in Dublin for lunch but only made it about 6 which is late, even by his notoriously lax standards. A bale of hay fell on the motorway and chaos ensued leading to hours of delay. Really. He went straight out to see friends but is supposed to be spending the night here. We await developments.

As I was making more wretched jam in the afternoon I listened to an excellent podcast about the two girls who nearly drowned on paddle boards last summer. Sounds a bit niche but the nation, including me was rivetted by this (ultimately) good news story at the time. It seemed so improbable that they should have been rescued and, listening to the story, I am even more surprised that they made it. The families involved sound like lovely, lovely people and the whole thing is well worth a listen.

On Sunday, we are off to Sligo for week 2 of our holidays and then Kinsale for week 3. I will update you on our return. I am sure that you are on the edge of your seat out there.

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.

A Vaccinated Fortnight!

11 July, 2021
Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Monday, June 28, 2021

I woke up the day after my second jab feeling slightly under the weather and very sneezy. But I was fine really.

Tuesday, June 29, 2021

I woke up feeling the picture of health. However, the nation was not in such good nick and indoor dining, which had been due to start July 5 was delayed until July 19 at the earliest. Alas, this wretched Delta variant.

Herself came back from her trip to Killarney where she and her friends had a lovely time. They spent 3 hours cycling around Killarney National Park. That’s a lot of cycling. They hired bikes and had to give a form of ID to guarantee them so, very reluctantly, her friend E handed over her passport (who travels to Kerry with a passport?) and then spent three hours worrying that it was going to be stolen. It wasn’t.

Wednesday, June 30, 2021

Herself got her braces off. Oh frabjous day. It’s been a long haul. The orthodontist spent the lengthy appointment mulling about why he left Belfast, “I said it was the troubles, but really it was Niamh.” Herself was not in a position to comment on his musings as she was unable to close her mouth but the practice nurse and he had a good old chat. I know for a fact that he is married to not-Niamh with 4 children so I hope he isn’t too inclined to share these thoughts.

It was a beautiful day and there were loads of people eating out, town was delightful. Mr. Waffle took the boys off ziplining in the Dublin mountains which was a hugely successful expedition except Daniel broke his glasses. Happily we had spares at home as he was off to Cork on the following day and is blind without them.

Thursday, July 1, 2021

Mr. Waffle had his vaccine appointment at 9.05, he had been due to have it on Tuesday but had to defer as he had a work thing he couldn’t get out of. He was v pleased though to be fully vaccinated and in the observation area before his appointment time. I must say, they are flying through the vaccination programme, it’s very gratifying.

Daniel and Michael went off to Cork on the train. The journey was uneventful except for a crying baby. It must have been truly awful because another woman (described by Daniel as “looked like an experienced mother”) came down the train and picked the baby up. God the horror, the poor mother.

Mr. Waffle sent his Scottish friend in Vienna birthday bagpipe greetings – he felt that was the least he could do after she found the “Lola Rennt” DVD for us. He had seen the ad in the back of Private Eye and thought, “Who would want that?”. Well, now we know.

Friday, July 2, 2021

I went to the dentist and he took an x-ray. He spent ages complimenting me on the quality of my roots (yes, really) and told me that I was the only person he had seen that week with all of their original teeth (really?). On the bad news front, he says a tooth at the back is dead (this has been a long time coming – stay away from frozen mars bars) and I will have to have root canal on it. I am not looking forward to that and it is going to cost me a fortune. Sigh.

Herself came as well and the dentist complimented her on her new improved teeth which was good because she finds them a bit weird after so long in braces. I think they look great but I suppose I am not really the one to be pleased.

The three of us went for dinner in outdoors in a local restaurant. It was our our first time out to dinner since last summer and it was lovely. Herself ordered poorly though and to her utter mortification, the restaurant refused to charge for her main course as she had eaten so little of it. I will definitely be returning with my valuable custom.

Meanwhile the boys, having had a cruise of Cork harbour in the morning were having a delightfully unhealthy dinner in Cork.

Saturday, July 3, 2021

I spent my money locally. I quite enjoyed it. I went to the picture framer who is only ever going to open by appointment in future, Covid or no Covid. While I was there, he turned away a man at the door who wanted to buy a framed print for â‚¬145 saying he had to make an appointment or purchase from the website. The customer was, understandably in my view, irate. Can this be a good business model? We should all go into picture framing, there’s clearly a fortune to be made.

Herself and myself went to all the nice food shops locally of which there are quite a few and bought various appealing things. One of the shops was giving away free books and despite the fact that we do not need more books, we found ourselves gravitating towards it and were unable to stop ourselves picking up a couple. Alas.

Herself had done a very thorough tidying of her room and had oceans of stuff to give away. I offered the text books on the neighbourhood whatsapp group but no joy. Why does no one need text books? There was a bouncy ball on a spring which had me in a quandry. The charity shops won’t take toys and I didn’t want to throw it out. I attached it to the front gate with a sticker saying, “Free to a good home” and couldn’t help noticing that the six year old across the road appeared to be having a birthday celebration (Covid compliant in the garden, I trust).

Mr. Waffle and I cycled into town to inspect the outdoor dining options. I mean, fine, but Ireland just isn’t a warm dry country and that is slightly problematic. On the plus side, when we came home, the bouncy ball was gone.

Sunday, July 4, 2021

We cycled out for miles along the canal, beyond the Dublin ring road to drop herself to a friend’s house. We wanted to see whether it could be done safely. It could.

I had my last online bookclub. The next one will be in person because we are all vaccinated. How I rejoice! Online was better than nothing but meeting in person is much, much better.

We spoke to Mr. Waffle’s sister in England and her husband and four year old. She sang us her new song: “It’s coming home, football’s coming home…” I put my head in my hands to try to ensure that she understood that she is half Irish but that didn’t seem to put her off at all.

Monday, July 5, 2021

I had lunch with a friend. So wonderful to be returning to the lunch circuit.

Tuesday, July 6, 2021

I went out blithely without a coat. It lashed. Oh God it lashed; I got soaked on the way home. On the plus side, herself made dinner. She went all out to prove the deliciousness of vegetarian food. Not bad, I have to concede.

Wednesday, July 7, 2021

The boys came back. They had a great time: they went ziplining, played tennis and pitch and putt and spent hours playing Magic and other nerdy board games with my sister’s partner. I am so glad that they had a change of scene. In fairness, my brother and sister made a big effort to entertain them as well so I’m suitably grateful.

Thursday, July 8, 2021

I had a dull headache all week. It was not better. Poor me. I couldn’t help wondering was it in some weird way, vaccine related even though it only started a week after I got my shot.

Friday, July 9, 2021

Finally restored to health, just in time for the weekend. Herself, very nobly, cycled into town with her brothers and deposited them in front of the dentist where I met them. The dentist pronounced himself broadly pleased but Daniel has to get two fillings. Alas.

Daniel and I went to shop for dinner ingredients and he announced that he planned to make Gordon Ramsey’s teriyaki salmon. Extremely pleased.

Saturday, July 10, 2021

Herself headed off to her aunt and uncle in Cork for a few days.

I went out to a pitch miles away to watch Daniel play a GAA game. Alas, they lost. I chatted on the sideline to a local politician whose son is a handy mid-fielder. I mentioned where we live and she said, instantly, “Oh, I know where you live.” That’s politicians for you. Man of the match was this tiny little fellow who was half the size of the other boys. My son tells me that he is going to be representing Ireland in mixed martial arts. No wonder the larger boys stood well back.

Sunday, July 11, 2021

The weather was manky. The boys and I went to mass. Limited seating available but they definitely lowered the average age by quite a bit.

After lunch, sparing the boys, Mr. Waffle and I went for an outing to Wicklow. We went to the German military cemetery. A fawn leapt into the road in front of us and wandered off into the hedgerow. We went to the Powerscourt Garden centre which was very satisfactory and the Avoca coffee shop which was not. I am a big fan of the Avoca coffee shop but on this occasion it was appalling. Seven young people behind the counter tried and failed to serve two groups of customers with anything approaching promptness. The Victoria sponge I ordered was still frozen in places. As we went out (still outdoor dining lads) to enjoy our purchases, we saw one of the staff wiping down tables with a squeegee floor mop. I mean it was wet but it didn’t overall increase confidence. 1/10.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, the summer of outdoors:

We wandered into Enniskerry which has been Disneyfied for the making of “Enchanted 2”. It was pretty crowded but the guards sheltering from the rain in front of “Beauty and the Book” assured me that it was the least crowded it has been. I was impressed despite myself by the impact of the movie magic.

And even the Spar:

Meanwhile, herself cycled to Cobh with her uncle. When they got there, there wasn’t a train due for 90 minutes so they cycle back to Cork again. 20kms each way, lads. At least it wasn’t raining.

How is the weather where you are?