We are somewhat flattened after unpacking the 14 bags we needed to carry home the Princess’s Christmas gifts. Now, however, she “sleeps in her turret” as my mother in law would say and we rejoice. She’s exhausted from the strain of playing with a wide variety of exciting things. In particular, she enjoyed chewing on our luggage tags.
Hard to say whether she recognised the flat. She looked around with interest, but I think that she misses her court at home. She’s in for a nasty shock tomorrow when Mr. Waffle returns to work and it’s just the two of us. We won’t be able to go out either because pouring rain is forecast.
Belgium is perishing. Our flat is also a mite chilly and despite the fact that our radiators have been on full blast since our return, I am sitting writing this with my feet on a hot water bottle. All stand alone heaters have been moved to the Princess’s room to ensure that it is toasty.
Faithful readers (both of you) will see that I have added a new category – photos. This is for my father-in-law and my mother (yes, this publicising thing is getting out of hand), both of whom seemed reluctant to wade through my text to get to the photos. Ingrates!
My new year’s resolutions are as follows:
1. Get a job.
2. Start a bookclub.
So far I have made no progress with either. When is it that you can abandon your new year’s resolutions?
Happy new year.
on 06 January 2004 at 23:15
What if aforementioned faraway takes over six months to read an 800 page book?
And PS: Our 8-month-old does not sleep through the night. I keep telling myself that she wakes up so often because she loves us more than the average baby loves his/her parents, and she simply must scream about her love in hope that we’ll want to spend a bit of late night time with her…
I got a book of cartoons from Mr. Waffle’s sister. Entertaining and sinister in equal measure. Mr. Waffle refuses to see the funny side but I can’t help liking it.
Princess Waffle got (inter much alia) 2 Dr. Seuss books for Christmas and was so pleased that she has already begun to suck the spines and tear out the pages. Parents were also very pleased.
Mr. Waffle is now reading the Peyps biography by Claire Tomalin and has abandoned the abridged diary and is reading my father’s full length 9 volume version. Am curious as to whether he will accomplish his mission before we leave on Friday. He is already on volume 3. Meanwhile I am still ploughing through volume 5 of Harry Potter. You can’t imagine how brilliant this makes me feel.
And while I’m writing about books can I nominate a further contender for worst book I read this year? Have you read Fingersmith by Sarah Waters? Dreadful. All year long Eileen Battersby has been knocking this book in the Irish Times. She would insert snide references to it in other reviews (along the lines of “this book is wonderful, not like the dreadful Fingersmith thing..”). I thought she was being cruel and snobby, but no, it is dire but at least it’s not as inexplicably popular as “Cold Mountain”. For all its faults, it is a page turner. Faults are many but am too tired to list them. Stay away, don’t say you weren’t warned.
This is dreadful but after finishing my last book, I felt I owed myself a break and am rereading all the Harry Potter books for light entertainment. They really are very good and not at all taxing. However, I feel the long ones are just too bloody long and I think she is losing it slightly. “The Order of the Phoenix” fails to grab me as much as earlier volumes.
Mr. Waffle is reading Pepys. At least one of us is an intellectual.
I spent 52 euros on stamps for Christmas cards the other day. We have sent too many Christmas cards. So far, we have received 6. I’m not complaining. No, really. I’m sure that when we get back to Brussels after Christmas we will have 50 odd Christmas cards waiting for us.? What do you do with 50 Christmas cards in January?
My friend the glamourous potter called around yesterday. She has a baby 6 weeks older than Waffle. Her baby crawls round the place like mad and I am torn between admiration and horror (will Waffle do this? how will I manage when she can move?). Glam potter is going to be a regular feature here as she is by far the most exotic person I know. To start with she’s a potter. I mean, how many potters do you know? Then, she used to get driven to school in an open top sports car. In Antigua. That’s enough for starters.
I am busy adding to my favourite blogs bit. I am adding Locotes cos we Cork people should stick together and so on. Also can get regular updates on Cork things. Fantastic, unmissable. Also adding JoJo, cos she said that my baby was sweet. Oh yes, I am very easy to buy. Thank you JoJo. Finally I’m adding this Iranian gentleman because, let’s face it, an informal look inside the corridors of power in Iran is kind of unusual. I particularly like the picture of him as a young boy. Very odd. If you check it out today, you will see that he is pleased about the capture of Saddam. No surprises there then.
on 17 December 2003 at 18:03
Well thank you very much. Urm…my Cork update for today is that the SHARE feens are out in force…at least 3 of them every 10 meters…diving at me from all angles…it’s impossible to get anywhere without being assaulted, surely that must be illegal?
A 20six tip for you, if you ever feel the need to reply or abuse a comment someone has left on your blog, it’s perfectly fine to enter a comment of your own in the entry – can be easier than mentioning their comment in your next post. But of course everyone has their own style. I’ll stop rambling now. 🙂
on 18 December 2003 at 16:52
I have just finished a dreadful book. Dreadful in content and dreadful in prose style. I am so pleased to have polished it off. I feel compelled to finish something once I’ve started it. I suspect I am the only person to have read the Phaidon coffee table book of the century thing cover to cover. This is a character flaw, I know.
I have to give a plug to the best book I’ve read this year. It’s called “What I Loved” by Siri Hustvedt. It is outstanding, a page turner with in-depth art and hysteria references. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant.
Worst book I have read this year is undoubtedly “Cold Mountain” by Charles Frazier. I took it into hospital with me when I went into labour and two days later when I had my baby I was still wading through it. Who cares about this man and his trip back to Cold Mountain? Why was this book awarded a prize? What possessed the author to make it so bloody long?