belgianwaffle

Archives for November 2025

My Travel Hell – Continued


Posted in: Travel, Work

On the plane I was in seat 27C a glamorous location towards the back of the plane. A small child was sitting directly behind me and amused himself throughout the flight by kicking the back of my seat. He was pretty excited for his trip to Eurodisney. Look, I’ve been that soldier and basically he and his brother were very good but v hyped up and I sympathised with the parents who were doing their best. But I sympathised with me too. It’s all a long way from the glory days when I travelled a lot and went – gasp – business class.

The one comfort was that the middle seat between me and the woman at the window was empty. “Doors alarmed and cross-checked”. Yes, no one else can get on, the luxury of an empty middle seat is mine, all mine.

And then, the woman in the window seat changed seat. She sat in the middle seat. Who does that?? Bitter.

My Travel Hell – Concluded


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Travel, Work

I have just arrived back in Dublin airport. I am sitting on the plane waiting patiently to be disgorged. I’ve met a number of people I know on the flight because, you know, this is Ireland. Do I feel up to other people? I do not. More tomorrow.

Still No News


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Reading etc., Twins, Youngest Child

A quiet day at the ranch: tennis; driving across the city with the learner driver; art gallery and tea in Bewley’s with the middle child; and a chance to admire Dublin’s Christmas lights (it’s November, Christmas time!). For the season that appears to be in it – Santa and the Grinch driving up and down Grafton Street.

Cultural Exchange


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

We had a Swedish friend of one of the children to stay for a couple of weeks. She was waiting for her accommodation to be released from the grasping hands of Airbnb (hypocrite that I am, how many times have I stayed in Airbnb accommodation? Many). She was a lovely guest and had lots of interesting stories.

Her grandparents came from the far north of Sweden and some great uncle in the family tired of the north of Sweden and went to Russia to join the Communists in the 1920s. It didn’t work out as he had hoped and he was sent to the gulag where he met a woman and had a child with her (conditions in the gulag were not quite what I imagined); she died (but then again) and he took the baby and walked out of the gulag back to Sweden. Impressive. On the other side her grandfather sailed around the world and was married five times which is a lot of times. Twice to Korean women called Kim (he went to Korea with the first Kim which is where he met the second). Honestly that alone was worth the price of admission but she gave me Moomin tea and an adorable gold plated Stinky. What a win.

Our Swedish visitor’s account made our own ancestors seem a bit dull so instead of talking about family history Mr. Waffle and I decided to giver her a quick tutorial on great Irish advertisements. Let me share with you, yes, lucky you.

How about this one for ESB (then electricity monopoly – why ads?)? As a country of emigrants where people came home for Christmas it’s really evocative.

This one for another state monopoly (Bord na Móna – the turf board) is charming .

There were a whole series of water safety ads.  Part one of this compilation seems to firmly point the finger of blame at mothers who speak on the phone. Then there is one with a farm safety focus (often a feature of Irish ads in the 70s and 80s – regular readers will recall that at a considerably earlier point my great-great grand aunt drowned in a barrel of cream aged 2, there’s an ancestral tale for you, no gulags though).  Irish people of a certain age will often say “It’s possible to drown in only a few inches of water” or “Where’s grandad?” though perhaps not with the exact same intonation as here.

There was a whole series of Kerrygold ads based on Franco-Irish sexual tension  Popular line from this one “There is something I can ‘elp?” Reply “You could put a bit of butter on the spuds André”

And its companion “Who’s taking the horse to France.

Guinness also had good ads always.

One of the most famous ads was for Harp lager.  It’s a terrible ad but inexplicably popular.  It’s about an emigrant again.  He says “You could fry an egg on the stones, if you had an egg” but the crowning line was how he missed the local barmaid “Sally O’Brien and the way she might look at you”.  The actress who played Sally O’Brien was actually English. A lot to unpack there.

Not a particularly old ad but the Irish Road Safety Association is known for its hard hitting ads and Mr. Waffle and I once saw one in the cinema when there were a bunch of Italians there and when it reached the brutal climax we heard a chorus of shocked “Mamma mias!”

I have so much more to give on this topic but I am concerned that like our Swedish visitor you may have already had enough.

A Straw in the Wind


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

I am still doing baptism preparation in the church. I will be doing this until I die at the rate things are going. My mother used to always say that it’s very difficult to get off a committee and she never said a truer word.

Anyway, we had this young couple in and they asked me to help them fill in the form, so we went through it together. There’s a bit where it asks whether the announcement of the baptism can be put up on the church’s facebook page (somehow given the demographics of the congregation, it’s bound to be facebook). “Does that mean that the baby’s name will be on Google?” asked the father. “Well, yes,” I said. “Then no, no Google.” Interesting.

For Those who have Died; a November Thought


Posted in: Family

Today is my Nana’s birthday. She never liked November much. Of course, when she was born in 1897, it wasn’t Christmas like it is now. Or, in fact, even when she died in 1984. I absolutely loved her and I loved when she came to visit. She only lived about 70kms away but it seemed like she lived on the moon. She came for lovely long visits and then we mightn’t see her for ages. I mean the roads weren’t as good as they are now but there was the train; still she had lots of grandchildren who were keen to see her and she had to divide herself up fairly, I suppose.

Anyway here we are on my first Communion; both looking quite pleased and I note the grass has been cut for the occasion to add extra glamour. My mother made my dress and had to wash it (as she frequently reminded me) three times on the day because I seem to have spent my time running around in it and falling over. Cissie who lived with us gave me the little mass book which I am pretty sure I still have somewhere. I remember her showing me how big the print was – a positive for some reason – and I pointed out that this was only at the consecration (I sometimes think I must have been unbearable) but I loved my little prayer book with its mother of pearl cover and I think she must have known that.

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