belgianwaffle

Archives for November 2008

Everywhere I have ever lived – 2008


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

After a prolonged stint in Mr. Waffle’s parents’ house over the summer, we finally moved into our own house in the second week in September.

I think it would be fair to say that it is not the house of our dreams.  We are warming to it though.  It’s handy and it’s ours (co-owned with the bank, obviously).
My top ten list of things that we really need to do:

1. Sand and polish the floorboards in the one room downstairs.  The filthy bare boards which were inserted to cover up the hole in the floor created by our useless electrician are really getting me down.

2. Carpet hall stairs and landing.  More filthy bare boards.  Also some filthy blue carpet with flowers.

3.  Fill and paint over all the remaining holes left by the electrician.

4. Put some more of the junk in the back garden in a skip.  Cut back some of the more threatening foliage (the other day I found, not one but two old bicycles nestling hidden under random undergrowth at the side of the house).

5. Blinds for downstairs (in train).

6. Tiles for the kitchen – walls and floor.

7. Something to stop the water dripping into the kitchen roof.

8. Insulation for the attic.

9. Somehow to create smooth walls and get rid of the uniquely unpleasant woodchip wall paper.

10. Do something, as yet unclear what, about the floorboards in the upstairs bedrooms.

This is but the tip of the iceberg.  I have not even mentioned the bathroom – best for everyone.

Finally, November is over.  Mr. Waffle has declared next month is to be NoMoBlo.
I really hope that I pick up one of these prizes, not that I am threatening you, Mrs. Kennedy.  Well, not if it would jeopardise my chance of an etsy voucher.

Blighted or this kind of thing explains why Kalahari bushmen are as happy as multimillionaires


Posted in: Family

Last Christmas my brother gave my sister and me a voucher for an expensive country house hotel.  All year long, I have been looking forward to using it.

Eventually, we had to use it because it expires on December 18.  This weekend was the only weekend where there were rooms available before Christmas, so we booked it.  There are a number of problems with this weekend:

1. I spent Wednesday, Thursday and yesterday away for work only arriving home late last night.  The children were delighted to see me this morning and correspondingly displeased when I told them I was leaving this afternoon.

3.  Though intellectually, Mr. Waffle fully supports my opportunity to enjoy my first night away from my family for pleasure since the children were born and he realises that going away for my job is not fun, he is still bitter despite himself.

4. Next week is a particularly busy one at work involving starts before the children wake up and several finishes after they go to bed.

5. My sister and I were supposed to leave at lunch time but guilt made me push it back to 4 and due to horrendous traffic, we didn’t get here until 7 (she is gracefully forebearing from criticism but I would be critical, if I were her).

6.  I have come down with a ferocious and miserable cold meaning that the spa, pool, sauna and the like are deeply unappealing prospects (even had I remembered to bring my togs which I have not).

7.  My sister has got them to give us a cheaper room.  At 200 euros less, it means we can enjoy an excellent dinner (free, hurrah!).  But the room is displeasing to me as it is off in a distant outhouse which is not a country house – more country stable – all very well in its way but not entirely meeting my needs.  I have previously confessed to delusions of grandeur – don’t mock the afflicted.  On the plus side, she brought her laptop, in case I wanted to update my blog – there’s kindness and virtue.  I would hate to drop out on day 29 of Nablopomo.

May 68


Posted in: Reading etc.

This has been sitting unposted in my drafts since May.  I felt it needed more work.  But it’s Nablopomo. I’m desperate.  Wait until you see what I end up posting tomorrow.

So to summarise, this is neither topical nor quite what I wanted to say.  With that enticing introduction, I am sure that you are keen to read on.

There’s been a lot on the radio about 1968.  The other day I was in the car and there was a woman on the Belgian radio saying how, although she was 35 in 1968, it had changed her life.  She was pregnant with her third child and in the spirit of the times she had changed the school they planned to send the child to and she was looking forward to a bright, new, future.  She wasn’t too pleased with the way it turned out.

Meanwhile, British Radio 4, when I switched over, was doing a somewhat heavy piece about the philosophers of ’68 and their thinking.

I’m not quite sure what I’m trying to get at here.  In the French piece you could really sense that they were trying to change the world and imagine what it was like to be there then (I perhaps haven’t done it justice). The English piece was just a bit dull.

Language is innate but literacy must be acquired


Posted in: Princess

My poor daughter is a textbook example of this. She is struggling with reading.  I sometimes feel we can’t have helped her by introducing a third language into her life.

I saw her painstakingly spelling out words in her Irish book the other day.  I did sympathise.  “Leanbh”, for example, is a bit of a killer, if it were English it would be spelt “lan uv”, I cannot imagine that this word could ever be written any way whatsoever in French, so at least we can rule out this difficulty.

Small prize (gasp of awe from me perhaps) if any non-Irish person can tell me what leanbh means without googling.  Residence in Ireland also disqualifies.  I’m going on the honour system here.

In fairness to taxi drivers


Posted in: Dublin

I got a taxi to the airport this morning.  The taxi driver was particularly interested in art nouveau and art deco.  He has been all over the world with his wife photographing things (Napier is too far though).  He told me that after the foundation of the Irish State, the Office of Public Works got a group of young architects together and told them to hop off to Europe and get some ideas.  He says that there is an art deco block of flats on Townsend street that is nicked from a model he saw in a book of Dutch art deco drawings.  He was absolutely fascinating and extremely knowledgeable.  I am feeling a warm glow towards taxi drivers and that’s not something that happens very often.

 

Meme thingamajig


Posted in: Family

Kind Leslie has given me an I *heart* your blog award. In return, all I have to do is one tiny meme.

Where is your mobile phone?  Until very recently I hadn’t got one.  I don’t like them.  Unfortunately, I was unable to hold out from work any longer. It’s sleeping in my handbag in the hall.

Where is your significant other? In bed asleep

Your hair colour? As my mother never tires of telling me “you have lost all your blonde hair” it is as P.G. Wodehouse once said of one of his heroines “a kind of glorious mouse”.

Your mother? A saint who reared “a family of racehorses”, a believer in infinite possibilities, an organic chemist, an outstanding organiser of children’s parties.

Your father? Kind, generous, excellent conversationalist only somewhat reactionary.

Your favourite thing? Possibly my nana’s engagement ring which she left to me; it was stolen over the summer.

Your dream last night? Can’t remember.

Your dream goal? Eh?

The room you’re in? The only room downstairs.

Your hobby? Blogging, reading, sleeping, talking.

Your fear? Failure.

Where do you want to be in 6 years? If Mr. Waffle makes his fortune, studying art history.

Where were you last night? At home having dinner with my husband and brother.  I love that our families are so near and they come for just an evening every so often.  A long weekend once a year can put a strain on everyone.

What you’re not? Quiet.

One of your wish-list items? Have far “too many of this world’s goods” (quote from mother) for tiny little house.  Only want to give things away.  I predict I will be impossible to buy for, for Christmas.

Where you grew up? Cork

The last thing you did? Went through old paperwork(found 500 euros worth of uncashed cheques – hurrah)

What are you wearing? Fleecy thing.  House is quite chilly.

Your TV? Off.

Your pets?  We had a lovely cat called Hodge when I was little.  I am trying to wear down my husband to let us have a cat.  I have said that it is either a cat or another baby.  He is definitely weakening.

Your computer? A 2003 model that I would love to update (ok, I do want something) but it works absolutely fine.  So that would be criminal, wouldn’t it?

Your mood? A bit tired.

Missing someone? Actually, rather annoyingly, having missed my family and friends in Ireland for five years, I am now missing my Belgian friends.  A lot of them were English and I seem to have developed a real taste for that English cyncism that we just don’t have here.

Your car? Disastrous.  We have two cars.  One with the steering wheel on the wrong side which we failed to sell in Belgium.  Must flog the one with the steering wheel on the correct side originally purchased in anticipation of a quick sale of the other one.  Are you still with me?

Something you’re not wearing? Earrings

Favourite shop? Hodges Figgis on Dawson Street

Your summer? Spent moving with a quick trip to Sicily thrown in.

Love someone? Lots of people.

Your favourite colour? Blue

When is the last time you laughed? Before my loving spouse went to bed.

Last time you cried? I cry all the time.  I think it was probably at the event yesterday when the gospel choir sang that thing “the higher you build your barricades”.  A 1980s anthem for the new intercultural Ireland.  I was overwhelmed.  This is always happening to me.  When Lassie was on the telly when I was little, I used to cry all through it.  I had to hide behind the sofa when it was over until my face stopped being so blotchy.  Even then, I knew it was uncool to cry at Lassie.