Family

December Round Up – Part 2

5 January, 2025
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Family, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings

Christmas Thrill

In mid-December, a colleague and I did a mock interview for the recently graduated son of a friend. He was a lovely guy and we both thought he stood an excellent chance of success. To my mild horror he sent me chocolates and a card in thanks which his mother assured me was off his own bat. I was then on tenterhooks until he was actually successful at the real interview. Go him. A pre-Christmas thrill.

Christmas Miracle

Herself went on holidays to Morocco with her boyfriend before she returned to me safe and well. When they were there their hotel was so scary that they moved to another. “What can we do to get our money back?” she asked me. “Nothing,” said I. Her boyfriend’s mother who is from New Jersey is made of sterner stuff and gave guidance on cutting a deal with the hotel which he duly did while herself cowered in the room (definitely her mother’s daughter). But then the boyfriend insisted that they eat the breakfast already paid for while the owner glowered at them (definitely his mother’s son). They visited the Pasha’s palace and to get their student reduction they both showed their student IDs. The attendant exclaimed in excitement over her boyfriend’s ID (Oxford) but treated hers (some would say from a well-known university also – though not the man selling tickets at the Pasha’s palace clearly) with cool indifference. They also went quad biking because she wants to send me to an early grave. But nevertheless she returned safe and well and is home until January 6. Hurrah.

Christmas Outings

Myself, herself and Mr. Waffle went to an Anu production of James Joyce’s “The Dead”. Overall very enjoyable with tons of audience participation but the venue (a big house on Merrion Square) was just a little too grand for the story. But seeing the well know actors and actresses so close up and interacting with them was good fun and would recommend. Pricey mind. Tickets were €65 a head and we are not on Broadway here. Still completely sold out early on for a longish run so I guess they know their market.

I am always booking things for our family with varying degrees of success. I booked the winter lights in Collins Barracks and myself, Mr. Waffle and Michael went along. It was cold and drizzly and an outdoor event. Enthusiasm levels were lowish but it was excellent. Only 15 minutes which may have been part of the reason for its success. It was clearly set up for much larger numbers which they didn’t get. A pity, I do hope they do it again next year all the same.

Michael went to Cork and Mr. Waffle went to a long Christmas lunch so the rest of us went to Smithfield to investigate the Christmas market. I would not totally recommend, but look we got a – not at all healthy – dinner and another trip on a big wheel. I’ve had worse.

We went out to see Love Actually on the big screen in the cinema. I didn’t think there would be any demand. More fool me; sold out. So we came home again and Mr. Waffle bought Christmas Eve at Miller’s Point from a streamer. I had been really keen to see this – it got great reviews but it hadn’t got a Dublin release. I found it…baffling. It’s a largely plot free adventure; it’s just a big Italian American family party and various personalities but nothing much happens. The reviews said it feels like being at a party. And kind of but like someone else’s family party where you don’t know anyone and just want to go home.

I got tickets for the Snowman in St Patrick’s cathedral. No one really fancied going but despite inclement weather in I went. I discovered that it’s a show for very young children – an actor reads out the story; a choir sings; an orchestra plays and loads of small children run up and down the aisle while their older siblings hiss furiously at their parents that they want to go home. I mean sweet but not for me. Good venue though.

While Michael was in Cork, the rest of us went for a walk up to the Hellfire club in the Dublin mountains and a cup of tea afterwards. In a mild way, a particularly successful outing.

Christmas Prep

I sent loads of Christmas cards. I got a reasonable haul in return but always a few from people one has missed. Sigh.

Everyone put up the outside Christmas lights on the road and we had mulled wine and mince pies with the neighbours. To think there was a time when I turned up my nose at outdoor lights. More fool me.

We laid in essential Christmas reading.

And the Christmas tree which the cat continues to regard with some suspicion.

One of the children had Christmas lunch for friends. How much did I enjoy laying the table for that? Very much indeed. How glad was I that I wasn’t the one creating a vegetarian wellington? Very glad indeed. Apparently it was excellent, thanks for asking.

Herself spent 45 minutes queuing at the cheese monger for me while I was at work. I gave her detailed instructions. She was to get Conté, Brie, Brillat Savarin, Tomme and a Camembert. She dutifully made her order gamely parrying alternative suggestions. The cheese monger asked if she’d like to try some. “No,” said she, “I don’t like cheese.” Her sacrifice is noted; I’d say he was a bit puzzled though.

I got my annual haircut. I didn’t get as much taken off as usual, I hope this isn’t a terrible mistake.

Hobbies Corner

I had my annual Christmas afternoon tea in the Westbury with my Sunday afternoon bookclub (booked in September) and our Kris Kindle gift exchange with the Monday bookclub. God I love my book clubs.

The 21st birthday of this blog passed by on December 10. It can now drink legally in America. It’s given me a lot of pleasure over the years. Here’s to the next 21, I guess.

Christmas can be a Sad Time

You may recall that my father died on Christmas Day in 2020. And I do think of him on Christmas Day but more I think of him on the winter solstice. He loved the summer and the sun and he was always delighted when the year was on the turn and the days were getting longer and warmer and celebrated it every year. And Christmas is, I suppose, a time when you do think of your dead relatives and all that has changed over your life time but I think particularly of my parents. I said to Mr. Waffle that this would be the first year in my whole life when I wouldn’t be spending part of the Christmas holidays in Cork.

Christmas Eve

My sister was coming for Christmas Eve. She came last year and it was super and low key and everyone enjoyed it. This year I went all out. I found it a bit unnecessarily stressful. As herself said (unhelpfully but I fear truthfully), “It was less work last year but everyone enjoyed it more.”

Mid afternoon we sat down and watched “A Muppet Christmas Carol”. We nearly forgot under the pressure of other work. I’m not sure Michael was delighted by my regular hopping up to check on things in the kitchen. I don’t think he felt it was in the Christmas spirit but I was basically doing a Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve. True to the informal spirit of the original idea, however, I had kind of forgotten until quite late in the day that a starter might be good, so that was challenging. Also, we had a vegetarian Finnish friend of Michael’s who was in Dublin for Christmas coming to dinner which created its own difficulties. As I was in the middle of prep, Mr. Waffle invited our neighbour in to induct her in the mysteries of the Aga which she would be using as part of her cooking for 13 the following day. We are still married.

Still notwithstanding the logistical difficulties it was lovely to see my sister and we all enjoyed chatting to the Finnish friend and dinner was broadly successful. Herself had the genius idea of lighting the fire in the dining room though (which we last did when we were getting the kitchen done and we had no back wall on the house – dark, chilly times) and it was lovely – really festive and not even too warm for the people with their backs to it which was a slight fear.

After dinner we all went to midnight mass (held at a punishingly early 8 pm) even the Finn who was an atheist but had Jewish/Lutheran grandparents so with the best will in the world was not fully up on the Catholic side of things but was willing to try anything once. The singing was beautiful and the mass was a reasonable length. I have passed another milestone remarking on the way home from the church that it was a “lovely mass”.

Christmas Day

Reasonable happiness all round with Christmas presents. I think that the stand out present was a hoodie for Mr. Waffle (who knew that that was what he wanted all along?). I got lots of nice things but was particularly impressed by the weather vane which demonstrated considerable planning work. Mr. Waffle did his now legendary Christmas treasure hunt for the children and they absolutely loved it. This time he wrote it in the form of a Sherlock Holmes short story. Genius.

Herself made Christmas breakfast with me as her dutiful assistant. It was excellent.

We then made our way to Mr. Waffle’s brother’s house where we were being hosted for Christmas dinner – I mean hurrah. It was a beautiful day and we had a short walk on the pier before lunch.

The in-laws hosted Mr. Waffle’s uncle and aunt as well as us and I have to say, Mr. Waffle’s uncle was the star of the show, he was completely hilarious. Though it was very sad that my nephew wasn’t there; however, he was off in Austria ski instructing having the time of his life and he did call right after dinner so, you know, not the worst thing either.

And then Michael drove us all home. Herself began the drive hyperventilating never having been driven by Michael before and about half way home she whispered to me, “This is incredible, he can actually drive.” Good man Michael. Has yet to sit his test though. Let us remain optimistic.

I’m not finished yet. More December to come.

A 20th Century Person

28 November, 2024
Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland, Mr. Waffle

I was born in 1969 and although, if everything goes according to plan, I will live most of my life in the 21st century, I am completely and utterly 20th century in my way of being. My four grandparents were born in the 1890s. They were children at the start of the 20th century and I feel through them I have a direct and tangible link to what life was like then. My parents were born in 1925 and 1936 and through them, I know an earlier Ireland when times were pretty tough but there were definite compensations for middle-class people like my parents who sat near the top of the social heap.

The 20th century is familiar but the 21st century is constantly surprising me with weird things. Mr. Waffle likes to say that I had the last Victorian childhood (didn’t everyone rush to bring father’s slippers to the drawing room when he came home?) and in some ways it was a bit old fashioned. My parents were older and when I was a child we lived in a reasonably big house. My parents had to join a formal dinner so my brother and sister and I ate separately in the kitchen with Cissie who minded us, cleaned the house and lived in a bedroom up the back stairs. The gardener came two days a week and we all loved him. Cissie would make him poached eggs and he would sit and eat them in the kitchen and I was not encouraged to come in and torture him with my chatter although I was keen to do so as he was a very kind, gentle and patient man. It was a time when people said all the time “Children should be seen but not heard.”

My parents had yielded to Cissie’s entreaties and ours and in the playroom there was a small black and white portable television on a high stand (or so it seemed to me) and, inadequate though it was compared to my contemporaries’ set ups, I loved it. I don’t ever remember my parents watching television in the 1970s – can this be true? It was not the 50s but in lots of ways, looking back, it felt a bit like it. Ireland was more detatched from the rest of the world then too. Air travel was still glamourous and exotic and ruinously expensive. So just to say, I may only have been born in 1969 but I feel I definitely had a link to a slightly earlier life. Sometimes, it seems so far away and alien to me; can that have been me kissing the bishop’s hand and receiving a 50p piece when he came to visit?

I suppose the really important thing is that I was 31 at the turn of the century and some of the most formative moments of your life are lived by then. Tell me, are you a 20th person or a 21st century person?

Early Adventures in Literature

26 November, 2024
Posted in: Family, Reading etc.

I was thinking recently about “Stories for Eight Year Olds” which I presumably first read when I was eight. I remember it being quite a hard read the first time but enticing. It’s a great selection – with many scary and strange stories. Still occasionally I think of the story of the little girl who had a magic fishbone (if memory serves) which she could only use when the family were down on their luck. Her father kept wanting her to use it and asking anxiously “You have not lost it?” “No papa.” “Or forgotten it?” “No indeed papa.” After all these years I still remember her refrain and her capably finding solutions to problems while her father despairs. She uses it in the end though, I think the consequences were…good.

I still love to read but nothing, I suppose, will ever match the intensity of my love for those early books from the “Cat in the Hat” to the “Famous Five” and the Narnia books. I remember disappearing into the spare room and spending the whole day reading “The Swiss Family Robinson” under the bed (where I, presumably, was unlikely to be found and told to carry out unwelcome tasks).

I loved to read and it was such a gratifying habit as everyone seemed to feel it should be fully indulged except late at night when reading under the blankets was frowned upon. My parents were slightly down on comics, however, which I also adored. Cissie who minded us used to bring me a comic when she came back from her day off. It was about a pet lamb called “Lamb chop” which my parents found hilarious for reasons I did not at all understand at the time. My best friend got Mandy and Bunty and I burned with envy.

What did you like to read as a child?

I forgot

23 November, 2024
Posted in: Boys, Family, Michael, Mr. Waffle

Saturday was a busy day.

We went to mass with the in-laws for my mother in law’s anniversary. The church was near the in-laws’ house and they had kindly asked us for a bite to eat after the mass.

When we accepted we hadn’t quite realised that Mr. Waffle’s brother would be in the pub (channelling his late father who always enjoyed both a celebration and running, he headed off to the pub shortly after mass for the annual drinks of the mountain running association), his niece at a party and that his sister-in-law,fresh from a work trip to Canada, would be cooking dinner for all of us and none of her own family. Never mind, we brought flowers. Did we leave the flowers behind us at home? Yes, yes we did. And (oh happy day) they are going to have us for Christmas as well.

Michael drove us home perfectly competently. I do hope he passes his driving test in January.

Anyway, I came home, went to bed and woke up in the middle of night with the realisation that I had forgotten to update the blog. I will backdate this. I am not even sorry as the young people say.

Post Script

11 November, 2024
Posted in: Family, Ireland, Princess

I began my working life in 1991. That is a long time ago.

One day, I remember a male colleague asking whether I had a stamp. People used to borrow stamps, it was a thing. I did not. He was disappointed. He went off to look elsewhere. “Married women always have stamps,” he said firmly as he set off on his quest.

I am not sure whether he succeeded in finding a stamp but I remember the line. And now that I am a married woman I do, in fact, always have stamps. I can’t remember the last time someone asked to borrow a stamp though.

When I was in my 20s I wrote many, many letters but now my only correspondents are my daughter in England and my friend in America. I think they both regard letter writing as a quirky – though not unwelcome – habit on my part.

I was slightly horrified to find, after she died, that my mother had preserved all my letters to her. You might think I would welcome an insight into my thoughts in my 20s but this is not the case. I did enjoy some of the letters between her and her mother which also came my way as well as a couple of letters my grandmother had written home from America while she lived there.

I do miss letters.

The Month of the Dead

6 November, 2024
Posted in: Family, Mr. Waffle

November is the month of the dead for Catholics and we say masses for dead people and think about them. I am not normally a big fan of Michael Harding who has a quirky column in the Irish Times but he had a lovely column the other day about visiting the cemetery which I would link to, if their paywall policy was not weaponised. I’m going to Cork at the weekend, and this article has reminded me that it might be a good opportunity to visit the cemetery where my aunt and my parents, and indeed my Cork great-grandparents and almost all their children are buried (my grandmother and grandfather were buried elsewhere with his people).

I often think of my beloved Limerick grandmother in November. Her birthday was November 25th and I can still remember how excited I felt whenever she came to visit. Limerick was a lot further away in those days and when she travelled to our house in Cork she came for long visits of (is it possible?) up to a month at a time. I loved it when she stayed. She was just a delight. I may have mentioned that the children pointed out to me that I am so old that not only do I know someone who was born in the 1800s but I am old enough to miss someone born in the 1800s. This has given me pause for thought.

My mother-in-law’s first anniversary is coming up. My father-in-law and my own parents are long gone. I mean, am I next for take off? Let’s not be morbid here, but this quote really spoke to me:

Always lots of funerals available in Ireland. Someone emailed me about a former colleague’s father (“I knew you’d want to know” – did you? did you really?). I decided to ignore it until I got a further email from someone else about the same man so I reached into my pile of sympathy cards and wrote a nice note. I personalised it, talked about how hard it was so soon after his wife’s mother’s death; how difficult it must be for the children. I addressed it. I came very close to posting it when I suddenly realised that I was thinking of a completely different person with the same slightly unusual first name. It took a lot out of me.

I sent a whatsapp message to another former colleague who is now distinguishing himself elsewhere. It’s a bit weird on whatsapp because you see a profile picture in a personal context and if you only know someone from work, it can be a surprise. He had a profile picture of himself and his mother to whom I knew he was very close. In between congratulating him on the new role, I commented on the lovely profile picture. I think you know where this is going. She had died since I saw him last over the summer. Apparently this is a thing, if someone’s parent dies they use pictures of the parent and themselves as the whatsapp profile photo. I only tell you this so that you don’t have to suffer similar embarrassment to me.

So you know my view on the unnecessary funeral information. However, my friend in America’s father has been ill for the past 6 months but managing ok. She was over and back a fair bit and I asked her to let me know, if anything happened. Then she texted me one Sunday to say her father had died the previous Wednesday. I instantly began calculating when the funeral would be. Provided it wasn’t the next Wednesday, I felt I could move things and make it (it was in Cork). Then she added that the funeral had been the day before. I was gutted. Saturday is a very convenient day for a funeral in Cork and she is one of my oldest friends. I frequently stayed in her parents’ house in west Cork during the summers. I would have wanted to know. But what was I to do? Upbraid her for not telling me earlier? She didn’t want to inconvenience me but I really wanted to be inconvenienced. I had actually considered putting an alert on rip.ie (a thing!) but it just seemed too weird. I was sure that news would reach me through the inevitable grapevine but it did not. Alas. And now I have a card to write to her and another for her mother and I am finding it quite hard. Yes, it is all about me. Your point? I remember many years ago when I started my blog my friend mocking the “About” bit saying, it’s all about you.

And finally in funeral news, Mr. Waffle’s friend’s father died. They live right at the bottom of Wicklow. A good two hours drive away. Mr. Waffle couldn’t go to the funeral on Tuesday due to a work commitment so he went to the removal on Monday night (my friend says no one in England knows what a removal is – can this be true? – it’s a service the evening before the funeral). I knew all this. But yet, I promised my friend around the corner a lift to bookclub 10kms away and when I came out of the house at 7, I was surprised to find the car wasn’t there. We may be looking at compartmentalisation. Which, by the way, is a good way to deal with thoughts of the inevitable.