belgianwaffle

Princess

More Middle Aged Thrills


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

Mr. Waffle and I took ourselves to an auction room to look for an oval kitchen table. We were not successful in finding that but we had a great time poking around and saw six very nice chairs. “Will we bid for them?” he asked. I decided not, we needed time to get used to the brave new world of auction furniture purchasing (I haven’t been to an auction since I was a small girl and went with my mother and sat perfectly still as she assured me that if I moved, I might buy something accidentally). Though I did discover on discussing with my bookclub members that many, many of them are keen auction goers. Who knew?

Anyhow, Mr. Waffle was fired up and registered himself to watch the auction online and looked at what all the items made (close to the lower end of the reserve, excitingly) and also, inadvertently, bought the six chairs; he was really only experimenting with the interface. But happily they were great value (€200 for six mahogany chairs, where would you be going etc.) and I am delighted with them though still a bit surprised to be plus six chairs which is actually quite a lot of chairs.

Unrelated to the above but very much one of the perils of middle age, I have been made treasurer of the parents’ council having refused to do chair and secretary, my back was against the wall. I am in the horrors. Mr. Waffle points out that at one stage I managed quite a large budget at work but I was forced to point out that an accountant managed the budget while I made lofty strategic decisions which at no point required me to actually do any accounting. I doubt whether that will wash with the parents’ council.

The Perils of New Technology


Posted in: Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Between her very demanding social life and the number of essays a cruel and unyielding school system makes her produce every weekend these days, herself hasn’t been on very many weekend outings with us of late. I think she regards this as the silver lining to the essay cloud.

A couple of Sundays ago, the boys, Mr. Waffle and I climbed the Sugar Loaf (the boys were up and down in about 45 minutes and I panted up and down gracelessly in about an hour and a half, alas – you may insert your own ‘unfit parent’ quip here). Herself was at home. We enjoyed the view and then headed back to the car to get the obligatory cup of tea.

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On our way back in to Enniskerry, I noticed I still had the Princess’s spotify app on my phone (briefly installed in a moment of crisis). “Let’s put on the family playlist,” I said gleefully. No sooner did I have it on than my phone started ringing but due to the mountains, reception was poor. It was some time before herself got through to convey this somewhat irate message, “Spotify plays on all devices simultaneously and I am going to take that app off your phone when you get home!” Apparently she was blamelessly doing her essays when a variety of family favourites started blaring out from her phone. Not delighted.

Massing


Posted in: Cork, Ireland, Princess

I took my father to mass in Cork this morning. We went to the same church where my mother’s funeral was. I’ve been there lots of times since but it made me feel gloomy this morning for some reason. My parents would have been 52 years married on Friday so maybe that is part of it. The priest recited this slightly mawkish prayer (thanks Cardinal Newman) and I was a bit weepy whereas normally I am superior about the sentimentality – the parish priest in Cork is keen on it and recites it often and I think he may have done so at my mother’s funeral:

O Lord, support us all the day long,
until the shadows lengthen,
and the evening comes,
and the busy world is hushed,
and the fever of life is over,
and our work is done.

Then in your mercy,
grant us a safe lodging and a holy rest,
and peace at the last.

Amen.

My father was quite cheerful though, I have to say.

Great readings this morning anyhow: real crowd pleasers. The gospel was about the steward who gets fired for incompetence. A couple of the lines have survived in general conversation (at least in the house I grew up in): “Give me an account of your stewardship, for you may no longer be steward”; “Take your bond and write twenty”; “To dig, I am unable; to beg I am ashamed.”

All of these have been changed in the version we got this morning and not improved in my opinion. I mean “Dig? I am not strong enough. Go begging? I should be too ashamed.” Just not as good I submit.

The priest gave a big long sermon about stewardship of the earth and Laudato Si and how all the children who had been marching on Friday on climate change were terrific. I was quite sorry that herself wasn’t there as she had been dutifully marching and it’s not often that she is in a position to agree with a sermon on a Sunday.

How was your own weekend? I feel that most of mine was spent on trains.

My Beauty Routine (Cough, Cough)


Posted in: Princess

I got a fancy new body cream which I applied to my person for the first time recently. As I sailed fragrantly out of the bathroom, herself emerged from her bedroom, sniffed the air and asked, “Why do you smell of strepsils?”

Curse you, lemongrass.

I Paid Good Money for these Notions


Posted in: Princess

Her: When I was on that course, I used to go to the shop near Dublin castle.

Me: Near the main entrance beside Chez Max?

Her: Where?

Me: You know, Chez Max, bistro place, we’ve been there for dinner.

Her: Oh Chez Max, I thought you were saying Shay Mack’s.