belgianwaffle

Middle Child

Not Waving But Drowning


Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Twins

Mr. Waffle continues to be ill. He decided that it would not be conducive to his recovery to stand in the middle of a windy field for a couple of hours so he delegated to me the job of taking Dan to his hurling match in west Dublin. “You’ve a beautiful day for it,” Mr. Waffle thrilled as we headed off.

We arrived and schlepped for miles from the car park to the designated pitch. No sooner did we arrive than the rain started. I discovered to my horror that although we were instructed to assemble at 1.15 the match was only starting at 2. I trudged gloomily around the pitch regretting that I had neglected to bring any kind of hood and discovering that my boots were not waterproof. Truly mine eyes have seen the abomination of desolation.

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There were 6 subs and, to my relief, Dan was in the starting 15. I spent a good while watching number 24 before I realised that my son was playing up front (normally he’s a back) in the number 6 shirt. Half time arrived mercifully quickly. Sadly, it turned out only to be a water break (quarter time, if you will). I continued my trudging. The heavens absolutely opened with that kind of rain that bounces off the ground and back up your trousers.

I telephoned my sister and she asked how wet I was. This is the photo I sent her. Very wet. Apparently it was a lovely day in Cork.

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Daniel was having a great match but he got knocked down and the coach ran over, patted him on the back and came to the sideline reassuring me that it was only a hard shoulder to the head. I was not reassured. Later he got a hurl to the head (they were all wearing helmets but still) and eventually, about 5 minutes before the end, he was subbed off somewhat to my relief as he is absolutely fearless on the field and I wanted him to finish alive.

I was very proud as we went back to the car and people kept coming up to congratulate him on a great match, sadly though, not great enough as, in the end, they lost by six points but, honestly, it felt closer than that.

We were both glad to get home.

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In other news, I bought logs from a garage and on my way out, accidentally blocked a middle aged woman in high vis and lycra who was marching determinedly in the rain, clearly getting her steps in. She gave me the evil eye, as well she might, and I realised it was the leader of the opposition. This is the kind of glamour that west Dublin offers. Let’s have your own celebrity encounters.

War and Peace


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.

I Got Nothing


Posted in: Middle Child, Twins

I asked Daniel as I drove him up to training whether he had any news that I could put on my blog. He had not. I have run out of inspiration for this evening and we’re only just over half way through November. Alas. Poor Mr Waffle is still sick but the rest of us are fully recovered. Weather is still extraordinarily mild. I can stop any time and I think I should.

Sunday


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

Today is the feast day of St. Laurence O’Toole, patron saint of Dublin. We heard a lot about him in mass this morning. This made me think that it might have been amusing to have named the boys Fionn and Barra in a Cork tribute. They were not amused by this hilarious suggestion. Sometimes I feel I am “wasting my sweetness on the desert air”.

I went off to visit the Museum of Literature in the afternoon. I’ve heard mixed reviews. I thought it was interesting enough – though a bit pricey at a tenner in. A bit too much Joyce and UCD for me notwithstanding the quote below which I enjoyed.

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And a great Brendan Behan quote too (though I was confused by the 1997 date for the quote as he died in 1964 – I mean was this live reporting from the underworld? – but on googling this quote seems to have been from a collection of his columns published in 1997).

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I’m glad that I’ve listened to the Ulysses audiobook in preparation for the hundredth anniversary of its publication next February because the city is going to go crazy.

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All the Christmas lights are up and town is full of people. Are we due another “meaningful Christmas”? I’m not sure I’m able for that.

The weather continues unseasonably mild. We tried to turn on the Aga yesterday but couldn’t get the wretched thing to light. As I fiddled with the pilot light, Mr. Waffle hovered in the background saying, “Swim, little polar bears, swim!” I sometimes feel he is not a fan. I see from the manual that it needs to be serviced regularly so perhaps a man can come and service it and get it lit as well. For the moment, it’s probably as well that we didn’t light it because we would bake.

In other news, herself continues to have the time of her life in England where all her vegan food needs are met. She is off to Paris for the weekend with a friend in a couple of weeks. And then skiing in December although she may sell her skiing tickets and go to a friend’s house instead with a group from college. “In December, what will her parents say?” I said, moved to sympathy by the thought of a bunch of college students descending upon them in the run up to Christmas. “I think if we stay in the east wing, we won’t bother them,” she said. Impossible to know whether she is joking or not. It is a far cry from my own college experience where the odd weekend in Kerry was the height of excitement available. Is she doing any work? I think so. Excitingly, the last trip she has booked is home to us on December 15. Very thrilling.

More Rugby Than You Were Expecting


Posted in: Middle Child, Siblings, Twins, Youngest Child

Update on yesterday. The latest I could change the train with my flexible ticket was one hour before departure. At 15.55, I reluctantly changed my booking to January. At 16.07, my Covid test result came in. Negative, I’m pleased to report. Mr. Waffle and I leapt into the car. The traffic was awful. I intended to buy a last minute ticket in the station to hell with the expense. But the traffic wasn’t moving. And I looked at the train website and it turns out that due to Covid all intercity trains now have to be pre-booked (whatever happened to good old booked?) and you can’t buy tickets in the station any more. And the next train I could book online was 6 which would get me into Cork too late for dinner at 8. Alas alack. We turned around and went home.

Later that evening Daniel’s test came in negative too. And today I am much, much better though not in Cork.

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I see the Dutch are closing all their bars and restaurants in the evening and bringing back masks and social distancing. It did feel very normal when we were there but I see that a surge in cases is the price of normal as the public health doctors keep pointing out in their Cassandra-like way.

I had a quiet day as did Michael (who is currently working his way through “Eminent Victorians” having finished his 1,000 page scifi short story compendium -he has eclectic tastes) but Mr. Waffle and Dan had a day filled with excitement. My brother had got them tickets to the rugby match: Ireland v New Zealand. Due to my brother’s slightly last minute organisational style, it was unclear whether he would arrive in Dublin at 10 or 12 or 3 and whether they would meet him before, after or during the match (they met him during and after, in case you were wondering). Daniel wore his Leinster top to the match on the basis that almost all of the team bar a couple are from Leinster (a sore point for the Munster people, obviously – Cork is in Munster, Dublin is in Leinster, in case there is any confusion on this point).

Anyway, miraculously, Ireland won. When Mr. Waffle and Dan returned from the match they were absolutely ebullient and Daniel gave me a play by play description. They had a fantastic view from their seats in the stadium and it was all tremendously exciting. I texted my brother “When Leinster beat the All Blacks” which I thought was pretty hilarious but he was not amused.

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As I type, it is still unclear whether my brother will be staying the night with us or high tailing it back to Cork this evening. He likes to keep us on our toes.

We’re having a Studio Ghibli phase at the moment. Daniel went out and bought “Spirited Away” with his own money and we all loved it and this evening we watched “My neighbour Totoro” which, though aimed at a more youthful audience, was a delight. The boys had watched it when they were small and they loved it.

I trust your own Saturday was satisfactory.

Sick of It


Posted in: Middle Child, Twins, Work

I began my day with a Covid test. I cannot recommend it as a way to start the day. It was a beautiful morning though.

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I worked from home for the day which I find quite stressful. I didn’t want to spend the day coughing over colleagues and I was sick as a dog. Here is my lovely home workstation at close of business.

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God, I really hope I haven’t got Covid. Daniel went for a test at lunch time. I hope he hasn’t got Covid either (he had to get a cotton swab up both nostrils – poor Dan). I now have one colleague whose whole family got it (including himself); one colleague whose wife and daughter got it; one colleague whose two sons got it and, as of this evening, another colleague whose wife has come down with it (updated to add: he got it too). Our work Christmas lunch was, predictably enough, cancelled today. There’ll be a virtual secret Santa instead. Be still my beating heart.

In other news, it’s still too warm to put on the Aga. I know, the planet thanks me.

I am about to retire to bed to recover from the vicissitudes of the day.

Send some good news.