Family

Plague Diary – Part IX

7 May, 2020
Posted in: Family, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Monday, May 4, 2020

I went for a cycle on my own for an hour. The weather was pleasant and it was nice to be out.

Having deferred cleaning to today, we all dutifully did our cleaning from the rota after lunch. Cleaning the house is tedious, there’s no two ways about it. But effective. Top tip from me, do not use a cleaner with bleach on a stainless steel hob.

Mr. Waffle and I read in the garden for a bit. We’re both re-reading. Some of us have chosen more challenging material than others.

The neighbours gave us half a dozen eggs over the wall. Speaking of hens, I don’t mean to tempt fate here but I think our rat problem may be resolved. Fingers crossed, eh?

My sister has started making candles. Really not sure where this will all end.

Tuesday, May 5, 2020

The children have the day off school as it’s the founder’s day. This is the first time in years herself hasn’t been organising and/or speaking at a schools’ conference. My sister asked why not an online webinar but herself said, wisely, “No one wants that.” Mr. Waffle took the day off work also to tend to the children and take them away from their electronic devices.

I got a call from my brother asking how to dispose of a dead bird. All part of the service. He doesn’t have a cat; I can only assume that he stalked it in the garden and carried it off in his strong jaws.

Mr. Waffle spent 3 (!) hours playing Risk with the boys in the afternoon. He is the best father. Herself and myself went for a cycle to a village at the edge of our 5km zone to celebrate our extended containment zone. Quite pleasant too.

My father was released from hospital again. Somewhat improved. I hope he’s well enough now to stay out for a bit.

Wednesday, May 6, 2020

Back to the grindstone for the children. Online school is slowly killing them. My poor, poor children.

Our google calendar is quite empty. It is very strange. I can’t quite understand how we managed to fit in so much stuff in what I think I should start calling “the before days”. We appear to be in the process of acquiring a milkman. As we get through 16 litres a week, I’m hoping this will be worthwhile.

I cycled out to our nearby village again. Unaccompanied which was fine. I met a friend walking in the park on the way back which was very exciting and we stopped for a good long socially distanced chat.

Herself has set up her own online shop where she is selling her clothes second hand. “I’m selling a lifestyle,” says she. Her experience of capitalism has been exciting. She nearly expired when she found she had to pay â‚¬8 for postage. “That’s nothing, imagine if you had to pay staff costs,” I said. “Mmm,” said herself, staunch critic of Amazon’s policy on unions and part of the reason we try not to buy any Amazon stuff, “who needs unions, we’re family, I will look after you.”

Thursday, May 7, 2020

The capitalism experience continued. She sold all her items. She packed them, she added free stuff, she forked out for her online postage and this is not to mention the time cost of extensive photographing the previous day. “If,” she said bitterly, “you had told me that I had to do all this and at the end you would give me â‚¬1.70, I would never have done it.” And, I have to tell you, she has no supplier costs. She’s reviewing her pricing policy and is, even as I write, putting up more stuff.

Bewleyâ€™s, a very well know Dublin cafe, is closing its Grafton Steet branch. I am experiencing mild regret, they did a great Lapsang. When it nearly went to the wall in the 1980s, the then Taoiseach, Garrett Fitzgerald, suggested that it might be nationalised and I thought my father would be carried off by an apoplexy at the prospect of his taxes going to prop up a Dublin cafe but nothing came of it. Nobody is suggesting nationalising it now but the Irish Times gave it acres of newsprint.

The internet died over lunch and the company said that it was a line fault and could be days before eircom got to us (days!).

I took Daniel off on my cycle to the nearby village. He pronounced it ok. I ran into my friend again and this time we were very blasÃ© and just waved at each other.

Meanwhile, Mr. Waffle turned the kitchen table into a temporary table tennis table with medium success.

Friday, May 8, 2020

The eircom man came first thing. A lovely man and the first person we’ve had in the house in about a month who isn’t a family member. Very exciting. He said that there was nothing wrong with the line and the fault must be the modem. It came back on, on Friday morning anyhow and we have been crossing our fingers ever since.

We had pastries and bread delivered to celebrate that it’s Friday. My sister sent me a notiony candle out of the blue. Quite the thrill, I can tell you.

The neighbourhood whatsapp group is full of details of local pubs delivering pints (there are several).

Michael and I cycled out to our nearby village. An opportunity to test his new shoes which arrived in the post this morning. It is a nice cycle but yet, all other things being equal, I probably wouldn’t advise doing it four times in the one week. On our way home we met the family of a school friend of Michael and Daniel’s from primary school (friend was at home but his parents and younger siblings were out). It’s all the same really for everyone. The father is German so he had a slightly different story to tell about his parents in Germany (fine, thankfully) and what restrictions are like there (significantly eased – his father got his hair cut today).

The German language school where herself was supposed to be going for a fortnight in the summer refunded her fees (I mean refund is good, rejoice). And the three week camp Daniel was supposed to be going on in June is cancelled also and the organisers have promised to refund unless we want to roll it over to next year. We’ll see. Meanwhile, Michael’s refusal to do any kind of course or activity this summer is looking surprisingly prescient.

Mr. Waffle and I went for a walk around a local housing estate (can you call it that, if it’s Victorian?). I had never noticed before that all of the houses have the same front door. They must be 100 years old but the ones that were gone were few and far between. Robust.

For cinema night we watched “Three Identical Strangers” which was successful in that everyone stayed for the duration and it was interesting but it’s a bit sad. I think pandemic viewing requires more laughs. “Catch Me, If You Can” remains the high point of pandemic viewing season.

Saturday, May 9, 2020

Ah, Europe Day, I thought of the bank holiday I would be enjoying if I worked for one of the European institutions. In fact, May and June in Brussels were something of a bank holiday bonanza. And then there was this delightful habit of taking off (possibly being given off?) a day to make up a long weekend if the secular or religious holiday did not fall on a Friday or a Monday (faire le pont – words to conjure with).

Yesterday, the children were complaining that the shower didn’t work. Did we listen? No. Were we sorry? Yes. I had a cold shower which is deeply unpleasant. The man is going to come to fix it on Monday (is plumbing an emergency service, I suppose so).

Herself and myself went to queue with hipsters in the hope of getting nice bread from a local cafe turned take-away but they were sold out. To console ourselves, we bought frozen vareniki from our local Eastern European produce shop. Mr. Waffle (our domestic vareniki maker – we liked them when we had them in Estonia last year and he has been honing his skills since) was outraged.

I set the children hedge cutting and lawn mowing in the afternoon. They did a great job but we had to stop as we have, again, run out of composting capacity. My lilac is growing and thriving with one very notable problem. It is not producing flowers. How long is this going to continue for?

I made biscuits. We ate them.

I went back on the walk Mr. Waffle and I took yesterday and photographed the doors. I was slightly mortified when one of the doors opened as I was standing on the path snapping it. However, it was a nice German man who was pleased that I was photographing his door. He told me that when they moved in, it was a horrible plastic one but they managed to source one of the original doors, put it in and painted it up. His daughter chose the colour; and very nice it looked too.

Lots of the houses had beautiful peonies. I am hopeful that in the near future I too will have beautiful peonies as, unlike the disappointing lilac, they look like they are about to burst into bloom.

I feel I know my 5km radius in some detail.

And how are things in your own pandemic location?

Plague Diary – Part VIII

4 May, 2020
Posted in: Dublin, Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Work, Youngest Child

Sunday, April 26, 2020

We cleaned again. I am slightly amazed by the efficacy of the Sunday cleaning rota. I’ve printed it out for another 5 weeks which is a little depressing though. Mr. Waffle and I went for a mild walk. All of the children have said that I am unusually grumpy, so I suppose it must be true. I believe I am as sunny as ever but, apparently, I’m a bit short-tempered. Alas.

My father is not really very well and he’s going into hospital tomorrow so that they can have a look at him and see whether they can change his medication and make him feel a little better. It’s a bit grim in Cork, I think.

Paying for my credit card bill online on my phone, I accidentally transferred the money to the gas company with whom I no longer have an account. There is really no excuse for this idiocy. I suppose I’ll have to write to them.

Monday, April 27, 2020

Everyone was a bit glum. My father has gone into hospital for a week so they can have a look at him. His GP says that he has never seen the hospital emptier; it’s a small private hospital that generally does elective procedures. As I said to herself when we went for a walk at lunchtime, “The hospital is really quiet, it’s like a morgue apparently.” Honestly, I’d want to watch my cliche use. My back and neck are quite sore. I suspect it is being chained to the desk more than usual and the absence of any approved ergonomic set up.

Daniel and I cycled in the park. We did not love it but we did it.

I had my online bookclub. Almost a full complement of members attended. We’re all at the end of our tether it transpires.

My camellia has finally reluctantly yielded a solitary bloom. No sign of the lilac producing anything as of yet.

Tuesday, April 28, 2020

Herself arrived down to breakfast looking very glamorous. She is keeping standards alive during lock down and, as the young people say, I am here for it.

Another trying day in the salt mines. I managed to complete a difficult piece of work, so there’s that but another irritant is, well, irritating. I may need a change, I feel.

Mr. Waffle made dinner allowing herself and myself to go off for a cycle in the park. It was a welcome diversion after a day chained to the desk.

I tried my hand at sourdough. It did not rise. We are definitely downhearted. For one thing, that’s 400grms of strong white flour gone and it’s hard stuff to get hold of. Not a great shot, it didn’t look great in non-blurry reality either.

Our neighbourhood whatsapp group is now exclusively about bread and flour and where you can get them.

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

Today’s extremely trying day at work was improved by Mr. Waffle calling me away to look at pictures of the children when they were small. He is backing up all of our digital photographic archive on a single storage device and I love him. He made lunch as well. What a hero.

Today’s announcement is that the Junior Cert is definitely off. My poor sons, but I think that this time they mean it. We are all counting the days until the school holidays begin at the end of May. The teachers are setting a lot of work and the children are sick of it. Poor mites.

The airbnb I had booked for our summer holidays in the US refunded me my money – they’re letting it out long term now. I thought that money was gone forever so that’s a plus, I suppose. It turns out though that I don’t want the money so much as the things I thought I was buying with it. I’m sad that my tiny (almost non-existent) hope that we might get to America this summer has now been utterly quashed. Oh well.

Meanwhile, the hospital told my brother that my father fell out of his chair last night but he’s fine. But yet. Overall, he seems to be doing pretty well in hospital. He is delighted to be completely vindicated in relation to his medication. When he was in the orthopaedic hospital at the start of the pandemic, they changed his regime and he was furious. My sister refused to smuggle in his pills. But, it transpires he was quite right and part of the reason he is in hospital now is to deal with the knock-on impact of decisions they made in the orthopaedic hospital. The hope is that he will be “back to his baseline” and discharged by the end of the week. We’ll see.

Meanwhile, he is torturing my poor sister with random requests. He rang her yesterday and left a message that there was a crisis. On further investigation, it transpired that he had run out of vests.

Thursday, April 30, 2020

Herself has written a fantastic poem which is to be on the school website and I am very proud. She refuses to let me put it up here so, sorry, your loss. We have ordered pizza from a deli for lunch. Not great pizza, it transpired.

It’s possible that on a conference call with 30 people this morning when I thought my mic was muted, the group heard me say, “Morning, sweetheart, why don’t you go and have a shower?” Possibly not, must check bilaterally with a reliable source.

Herself pointed out that this will probably be the defining event of her childhood which we would never have predicted. True, for the boys as well, I assume. I asked her what the defining event would have been otherwise and she thought it was probably her three months in France. The boys asked what was a defining event and then said that they had no other defining events. Fine.

Work very frantic and then a work quiz in the evening. Very elaborate with break out rooms and 300 people on the call. Good fun but at the same time on the computer from 9 in the morning (work until 7.15, quick bite of dinner and quiz started at 7.30) until midnight when the quiz finally ended. That’s a long time.

This was the first day since the lock down started that I haven’t got out for at least half an hour. I walked up and down the road for ten minutes at lunchtime but that was it. The rule for the children is that they have to go out for half an hour and exercise and if they don’t do it during the day, they come on a walk after work with their father and me. But, there was no walk after work today. Oh well, I trust tomorrow will be better.

Friday, May 1, 2020

The Crunchy Nut Cornflake battle ground is becoming more intense.

We got a delivery of breakfast pastries and bread to celebrate the start of the bank holiday weekend. Exciting stuff. Michael announced that all his shoes are too small for him.

My father tested negative for corona virus again. He was due to be released today but they’re holding on to him until Tuesday. His mood might, conservatively, be described as not delighted. He’s much better than he was when he went in though, so that’s good.

Work was a bit better and, wonderfully, I got to take my half-day. And a bank holiday weekend. Let joy be unconfined. To celebrate we went for a walk in the hail.

There was a slightly odd man standing stock still outside our house when we emerged. He was still there when we came back from our walk. The guards were talking to him and, in fairness to them, they must have stayed a good hour. As he went off on his way, I heard them say, “Mind yourself, now.” It is not a good time to have mental health problems, I fear.

The Taoiseach announced our five step programme for escape from lock down. Very little changes until May 17 and relatively little after that (from Tuesday we’re allowed go 5kms from home for exercise rather than 2, so there’s that, I suppose). It’s going to be a long summer.

Mr. Waffle has backed up our digital archive from 2003 to date on two external back up things. I went through the photos from 2003 yesterday. Frankly, I look exhausted and my hair is nothing to write home about either. Herself was born in April and we were living in Brussels, we went to weddings in Normandy (May), Rome (June), Offaly (July), Mayo (August), Cortona (September) and Cork (ok 2004 but January 2004). No wonder we were exhausted. I do think that I could have done a bit better on the hair front though.

Mr. Waffle chose our family film for the evening. Quite exciting having our big screen out again and film a huge success. He kept it secret until the moment of screening and then revealed that it was “Catch Me If You Can” which I would really recommend for family viewing. I saw it when it came out but I’d forgotten a lot of it and it’s aged pretty well. We all enjoyed it.

Saturday, May 2, 2020

Clark’s website having utterly defeated me, I bought shoes from Marks and Spencer for Michael. I hope they will fit. Earliest delivery date is next weekend. His preferred solution to his problem is to stay in socks all week but Mr. Waffle cunningly remembered that we had bought new hiking boots for skiing just before lockdown. These are available to a deeply unenthused Michael for when he goes outdoors for exercise.

Daniel’s GAA club had a joint training session via zoom. Mr. Waffle held the phone and Daniel did the exercise. I think in a strange way they both enjoyed it, even if the greater portion of Daniel’s enjoyment came from pointing out how absolutely useless his father is at using zoom.

Mr. Waffle and I went for a longish walk into the city (fear not, within 2 kms). It was quite pleasant and sunny.

This evening’s street zoom quiz was deferred until next weekend as too many people were unavailable due to other zoom commitments. Goodness. The way we live now, apparently.

Sunday, May 3, 2020

Herself came down to breakfast and announced she was better. Since we had all forgotten that she had gone to bed early as she was ill, this announcement was received with more bafflement than it deserved. We are terrible parents.

Herself, Mr. Waffle and I went for a long cycle in the park which was pleasant in the fine weather. The place was very heaving with people. Social distancing was a little bit of a challenge. This picture is unrepresentative.

As Monday is a bank holiday, we have deferred cleaning the house to tomorrow.

We cut up Saturday’s paper and stuck up the release from quarantine timetable to the radiator.

This gave me an opportunity to inspect the magnetic poetry more closely than I have done recently. I see we are using poetry to address the injustices of the current regime. Some of it more lyrical, other pieces more direct.

Any updates from your own lock down?

Plague Diary – Part VI

19 April, 2020
Posted in: Dublin, Family, Hodge, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Twins, Youngest Child

Easter Sunday, April 12, 2020

Today was the Princess’s 17th birthday and, it’s fair to say, it’s not quite how she imagined spending the day.

That said, it was a present rich birthday and she got lots of cards and messages on social media from her friends. I loved the birthday cards she got in the post from friends who had clearly never addressed an envelope in their lives. We’re all learning.

As I may have mentioned, we are taking part in an extended family bake off competition. We decided to have the bake off cakes ready for a birthday tea for herself in the afternoon. The day was spent baking. We were exhausted by the time the birthday tea came around. It felt like Christmas day. But, frankly, we did an amazing job.

Herself organised an egg hunt for the boys. It was eggcellent. Ah, go on. Their aunt had posted Easter eggs from Cork which showed real forethought.

We had a very mild walk. The Princess brought with her the disposable camera she had requested for her birthday. She’s keen to take pictures that Apple won’t see first.

A birthday post on herself is in gestation. Hold on to your hats.

Monday, April 13, 2020

We were exhausted after the previous day’s baking and didn’t get up to much.

Everyone set about and did his or her bit on the cleaning rota the success of which has been surprising and very pleasing indeed.

We broke our mop and Mr. Waffle attempted to repair it but a good hour of drilling and cursing noises did not ultimately lead to success. Will we be able to get a new mop in lock down? These are the kind of pressing questions we considered today.

The other family members are a bit worried we may have slightly over achieved on the family bake off. Was the promotional video too much? Herself said anxiously, “Are we the baddies?” I feel not, just keen, very keen.

I finally achieved nirvana by being double booked for zoom calls (bookclub and family bake off both at 8.30) which my brother managed to do far earlier in the pandemic process. Yes, I am competitive in all sorts of weird and unusual ways. Your point?

Herself told me about her friend whose parents are divorced. The friend’s father is a doctor and her mother is abroad. So he is at work all the time and the friend is at home alone and even when he gets home they are social distancing. All her social media posts are asking people to stay home so that she can get her family back. How miserable is that? It did make me count our blessings all over again.

Michael and I went for a lovely cycle in the park. Even he didn’t hate it which is as good as I’m going to get.

Judging took place in the family bake-off. It was tense but, ultimately, the judges (one per household) decided that everyone was a winner. Admire our promotional video prepared by herself.

Tuesday, April 14, 2020

At 8 in the morning, herself and myself cycled off to the bakery and picked up our online order. It was within our 2km radius but still a bit of a trot, so I felt filled with virtue (and also croissant) when I sat down to my desk at 9.

Work was busy but better. It turns out that I am a creature of habit. This comes as a genuine surprise to me and certainly, were they aware of it, would also to people who have interviewed me over the years (“I thrive on change and a dynamic environment*”). I’ve found that as I’ve got used to the new reality and working from home, I’m getting a bit better at creating routines and managing. Here is my working day:

9 At the desk checking what fresh horrors are in my email.
10 Almost always some class of ghastly conference call
11 Little break, cup of tea, dragging the boys from their beds, exciting domestic task like unloading the dishwasher
11.30 Slave some more in the salt mines
1 Lunch (if prepared by Mr. Waffle, 1.30, if prepared by me)
1.45 Walk alone around the block (v. exciting)
2.15 Almost, invariably, another conference call. Hideous.
3.15 Further unbroken saltmining.
5 Determination by me that today, yes today, I will finish early and play tennis with Daniel, cycle with herself, force Michael out of the door etc.
5.01 Exceptionally urgent email arrives forcing me to postpone my plans.
6.30 Finish work for the day. Realise that exceptionally urgent matter could really have waited for the morning.

Actually, today, I had a grand old chat with a female colleague. She is the only other practising catholic I know at work (I mean there are obviously lots of others but short of asking it’s hard to find out) and we confided to each other that we both missed Holy Week celebrations. I never thought that the day would come.

The rat catcher came this afternoon to break up the day. We have given up faith in Rentokil who never came back after their initial visit and the man from around the corner with the Jack Russell is now our operative of choice. He put rat poison outside as he said that we didn’t want rats dying in the house. Frankly, I don’t see what’s to preclude them coming in post-poisoning, if they have a means of entry which I really hope they don’t. The good news, said the rat catcher is that we don’t have tongue in groove flooring so it will be easier to take up, if necessary. It’s hard to see this as really good news. Everyone in the household was reminded of this National Geographic article which herself told us about a number of years ago and which is…memorable. Pray for me.

Hilarious email from SuperValu offering us a priority delivery slot on Wednesday week. We have a scheduled delivery for Thursday week which we ordered three long weeks ago (only date available at the time). Email is like something from a secret society:

Unfortunately, we canâ€™t guarantee youâ€™ll get a slot as theyâ€™re available on a first come, first served basis, but this gives you the best chance of securing a slot. That means itâ€™s crucial that you do not share this information with anyone else.

The power has clearly gone to their heads.

Meanwhile the boys went up to the local public tennis courts for a knock around but they were locked. Alas.

*I promise I have never actually uttered those ghastly words but that was often the gist of my responses.

Wednesday, April 15, 2020

I failed to get up before work for any kind of exercise and I regret this. The working day unfolded in its normal way.

Small walk at lunchtime. Not much to report.

Our sourdough starter arrived and this inspired the Princess to, yet again, beg us to watch the life changing documentary on fermentation she watched a number of years ago. As the proud owner of a sourdough starter, I felt it was time. The documentary “Cooked” was on Netflix. “It’s only an hour,” said she. It started. “Oh yes,” she said, “it starts with fire.” We watched a lot about fire. It wasn’t uninteresting but we had been promised fermentation. “When does the fermentation start?” I asked. “I feel like we’ve watched an hour already and it’s only been fire.” It turns out we had watched an hour and it’s a four part series. Fermentation tomorrow then. The excitement.

Herself had an article published in an online magazine. I am not allowed to read or see it.

In case you care, you can buy a mop in Tesco. Mr. Waffle is refusing to throw out the old mop. I’m a bit unclear about what his plans for it are.

Thursday, April 16, 2020

The Princess and I went for a cycle in the park before breakfast. It was delightful but hard to get up.

Work is becoming more normal and manageable, partly thanks to my exciting daily schedule. Sadly, though, due to an extra conference call, no walk at lunch time. Alas.

We are all living for the excitement that is our fermenting sourdough starter. We’ve already given some away to the neighbours (it keeps growing).

The boys set up and ran an online dungeons and dragons type thing with their friends. They’re learning lots of new skills.

We watched the fermentation documentary. Who knew chocolate was fermented?

Friday, April 17, 2020

I was on a half day and finished work at 3. It wasn’t bad but it wasn’t a classic half day which, ideally, starts at lunch time.

Herself is delving into the deeper, obscure depths of cooking. We had an egg yolk sitting in the fridge surrounded by salt and sugar for the week. Today it was hung up to be air-dried for three days. Then you can grate it over pasta and other foods and it will give a lovely umami flavour. Allegedly.

It’s very odd and currently hard as a bar of soap. I’ll let you know about the umami.

Herself has also taken to lurking on sourdough forums on the internet. Our starter seems happy and maybe this weekend we will make bread with it. All to play for.

We got a sushi making kit and she is currently exploring the joy of vegetarian sushi.

Daniel and I went for a bike ride in the park which, despite his protests, I think he quite enjoyed. Both he and Michael are becoming ludicrously large for their bikes and I see an expensive time ahead as we will have to buy them both proper adult bikes post-pandemic.

Saturday, 18 April, 2020

We got a ridiculously expensive breakfast box delivered. I feel we need to keep our spirits up by having little treats for ourselves. It was plugged in last weekend’s Irish Times. Herself and myself were looking forward to it all week. It was not great. The pastry was stale, the juice was watery and the baguette was fine but you know, only ok. Still, we quite enjoyed looking forward to it all week so we might try for another treat next weekend. I will keep you posted.

In other online purchases, we bought our sourdough starter from these guys: kefirgrains.ie. It is the business and we are delighted with our investment.

I subscribe to an online publication called the Browser. It’s an internet highlights thing and I like it. I have two three month subscriptions to give away, if you’re interested, send me your email and I will sign you up.

I got sent a chain mail thing on the internet. Normally I never send these on but it was sent to me by someone I’m quite fond of and I quite liked the idea of getting poems to my inbox. I sent it on to 20(!) people with some qualms and a cover note advising recipients to ignore, if they could not face it. I felt a bit bad. Herself opined that I was overthinking it. Perhaps. However, did it soothe my guilty conscience to see this article by an Irish Times journalist indicating that she had got the exact same chain email and did it make her feel good, gentle reader? It did not.

It is apple blossom season.

Herself has cut her own hair.

I am in the process of sending mortuary cards to people who sympathised when my mother died and came to the funeral and removal. Given that she died last June, this is not before time. It’s a more difficult exercise than you might imagine as you need to dig out addresses and think what to say and so on. I remember a couple of years ago, after my uncle died, my aunt was quite sick in hospital. I went to visit her and all she could talk about was how the mortuary cards for my uncle hadn’t been sent out. I told her not to be daft that nobody would mind, if they were never sent. I don’t think it was much comfort and now I know how she felt: this task has been positively looming over me for months.

Mr. Waffle, the boys and I went for a cycle in the park. We’re all a bit bored of cycling in the park at this stage. But, good for us, I daresay.

We had a quiz over zoom for people living on the road. It was technologically successful with 9 households taking part. Daniel stayed to help his parents but the other two weren’t interested. Their loss, as we defeated the opposition to become the first reigning champions. First prize is organising next Saturday night’s quiz. Oh well. We’ll be offering sourdough starter as a prize.

I was talking to my sister and I said that the first thing I am going to do when quarantine is lifted is go down to Cork. “I don’t know when I’ve been away for so long,” I said. “But you were here last month,” she said. I was really surprised, but so it is. Time is stretchy in quarantine.

Finally, we’ve decided on our treat – we are getting a projector and screen. We hope to be in a position to inaugurate next weekend, deliveries permitting. Fingers crossed.

How’s quarantine with you?

Plague Diary – Part IV

5 April, 2020
Posted in: Family, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Twins, Work, Youngest Child

Monday, March 30, 2020

We are definitively all working from home, you need a letter to come in and only three people in our division are deemed indispensable and happily I am not one of them.

My sister managed to spring my father from hospital. I was so relieved and delighted. He’s not very well but at least he is out of Corona virus central. Quarantining is complex. My brother, who lives with my parents, is in one part of the house and he is in self-isolation after his return from France. My sister is moving home to look after my father and go into isolation with him for a fortnight after his exposure to the virus (March 19). They will be in another part of the house and disinfectant wipes will be a big part of everyone’s lives.

After work, on Monday evening we went and played basketball on a local court en famille but Daniel is so much better than the rest of us that it is only fair if we play 4 against 1 and even then, he’s more likely to win.

I had my Monday night book club online. Another win for the bookclub. Nobody talked about the book and only one person had read it. Nevertheless we are moving from a monthly to weekly bookclub for the duration. We did this via Microsoft video conferencing which I declare to be less satisfactory than zoom.

I tried to set up a zoom conversation with my brother and sister for later in the evening but my brother refused to take part as he was meeting up for virtual drinks with his friends. Where will it end?

The hook which holds the elastic on the Princess’s teeth snapped off and the wretched orthodontist did not reply to emails or calls. My own dentist replied with admirable promptness and texted me immediately to say that his view was that she should take off all elastics and her treatment would be extended for however long the crisis took although he caveated he was not an orthodontist. He is sensible though. She is gutted and also has put blue tack on the sticking out hook to reduce the pain. Miserable? Miserable.

Herself said to me that Whatsapp is a very panicky medium and never was a truer word spoken. My phone is filling up with worthy middle class, middle aged suggestions for myself and my children to achieve online during the crisis and it is mildly stressing me out. Meanwhile Daniel’s GAA team have been given a series of exercises to do every day and his team mates are posting themselves doing the exercises to the Whatsapp group. This is stressing out poor Daniel.

Mr. Waffle finished Daniel Defoe’s “A Journal of the Plague Year” and said it’s not great. Reading the hard books so we don’t have to. Despite considerable pressing by me, no one is willing to read “The Siege of Paris” even though I read out some of the best bits over breakfast. Possibly becuase I read some of the best bits out over breakfast. Not feeling much up to new books so picked up “The Grand Sophy” by Georgette Heyer for a reread and was pleased to see that my mother had written her name and March 1965 on the flyleaf and I thought fond thoughts of her picking it up for the first time 55 years ago.

Tuesday, 31 March 2020

Mr. Waffle found what he thought was another dead rat in the utility room. On closer examination he felt it was some cooked food the cat might have scavenged from a bin. In any event he disposed of the…item and cleaned the floor with bleach. Did I mention that while I am in stately isolation in the study/dining room, Mr. Waffle is working in the utility room or the rat hole as we now know it. In my defence, I am videoconferencing all the time.

When you have 2 adults and 3 teenagers using broadband for class streaming, video conferences and other internet related excitements, you have mediocre connectivity at best, it turns out. We’re all learning. The Princess’s English teacher failed to show up for class leaving them all sitting there like digital lemons.

We made more bread.

Herself made chocolate cake from the neighbours’ hens’ eggs. We gave one cake to the neighbours. We’re not savages. Yet.

For an outside exercise break, I made Michael clip the hedge. I am justifiably proud of my efforts.

Mr. Waffle reorganised the contents of the random chargers box.

Mr. Waffle and I went for a walk and admired the deserted streets of the city. Not that deserted, actually.

I can see a lot more of this kind of fascinating content being available.

Wednesday, 1 April, 2020

God, work was absolutely frantic. Michael missed a zoom class for school. The Princess’s teeth continued sore and no sign of the wretched orthodontist calling. My bread failed to rise. I had a little cry as it felt like I was failing at work and at home. It was a low point. I was somewhat cheered by this video.

Thanks to the neighbourhood whatsapp group, I now know the names of everyone on our street and the DVDs and books they have available to share. GDPR, how are you?

At the end of the day, Mr. Waffle, herself and myself were going to go for a walk but I skipped it to deal with the latest work crisis. Possibly a mistake.

My sister’s company might put her on a three day week. She’s reasonably philosophical.

We’re all a bit worried about my mother-in-law in her nursing home. My brother is finally out of quarantine after his trip to France.

Rentokil did not turn up. The neighbours explained that they had come last week to lay poison and now they are coming back for the corpses/to check if it worked and it seems this is less urgent. But yet.

Thursday, 2 April, 2020

On the whole, a much better day. I started putting my work mobile on silent over lunch and it improved my life by 100%. At lunch time I walked to the bottom of the road, alone in the rain and it felt like quite the break. Dear God. The days all feel a bit the same. I never thought I would miss going in to the office, but I do a bit.

My sister skyped with my father and me. A much more successful operation than I had imagined possible. He looks a bit beaten down by his hospital experience but it was really nice to see him.

The Princess, Mr. Waffle, Michael and I went for a walk while Daniel slaved over his books – he seems to be getting a lot of homework. Michael went back after 10 minutes having been forced out so, at least Daniel had company.

We found another dead rat in the garden. The rat plague is like a Greek chorus to my pandemic woes. You’d be surprised how many people have had rat problems, may I say?

In other good news we got a partial refund for the money we’d paid for the Princess’s school tour to Barcelona having already gloomily written it off.

Herself is testing out new make-up options.

We’ve started watching an Australian series called Rake with the children. It’s deeply inappropriate but it’s the only thing we all like so we’re going to stick with it. Judge away.

My father finished his quarantine, he officially does not have the virus and my sister got to sleep in her own bed so a win all round.

Friday, 3 April, 2020

Work continued busy but I was on a half day and got to take it which was terrific. Herself made pancakes at 4 and we all sat down and ate them. My sister’s company is not moving to a three day week after all, apparently. She’s taking the chopping and changing very calmly.

Mr. Waffle, Daniel and I went to play table tennis and then I went off for a cycle on my own which was calming.

Saturday, 4 April, 2020

We skyped my mother-in-law in the nursing home. Not a great experience for her I feel but we sang from our repertoire of songs and she seemed somewhat appreciative.

There was more hedge cutting. The garden is going to be amazing when this is over.

Online preparations continued for what herself is referring to gloomily as her “quaranteenth birthday”. She’ll be 17 on Easter Sunday.

She and I went for a long cycle in the park together and really enjoyed ourselves which was a surprise to both of us.

We played online games via zoom. Some unhappiness but basically a success, possibly to be repeated.

More eggs from the neighbours. I see further cake making in our future.

Sunday, 5 April, 2020

It’s so odd not to be going to mass on Palm Sunday and the prospect of all the Easter preparations without setting foot inside a church.

At the initiative of my sister-in-law in London, we’re having a family bake off competition to conclude on Monday, April 13. There had better be prizes for everyone is all I can say. Also, special prize for anyone who successfully uses coconut flour.

Online Sunday book club again. Satisfactory. Also a quick walk with Mr. Waffle. No exercise for the boys. Alas. On the plus side, we all did our jobs on the cleaning rota and the house is spotless.

Herself maintains she hears rats under the floorboards in her room. Surely not?

I’m afraid all this content is dull. But things are dull and a bit stressful, I fear. How is your own quarantine going?

Plague Diary – Part III

29 March, 2020
Posted in: Dublin, Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Friday, March 27, 2020

I dropped into the office about ten to pick up some papers but there was much grief and heartache and I ended up stuck there until ten to six with only a vile chicken tikka wrap from the Spar to sustain me.

I find I’m a bit tired all the time and every evening I have a nasty tension headache. I suppose it’s the uncertainty and general worry.

Our cleaner can’t come any more, obviously, and I told the children that a cleaning rota would apply from this weekend. This was met with a very lukewarm response.

I spoke to my 90 year old aunt on the phone and put Michael on to her as I thought it might cheer her up. I rethought matters when I heard him say to her, “If you stay at home, I’d say your chances of survival are relatively good.”

My sister got a call from the hospital at 8.30 in the evening and got a nasty shock when a nurse said to her, “I’m calling about your father.” However, it turned out that he was out of credit on his phone. I don’t see how he can use up his credit but my sister thinks it’s mostly from calling her and accidentally putting her on hold.

The Taoiseach announced that we are all going on further lockdown. All feeling a bit grim. Herself showed me the Italian mayors video and it cheered me up enormously.

Saturday, March 28, 2020

I went out to the garden to admire my compost bin in its new location. Stretched on the ground adjacent to its old location was a dead rat the size of a small rabbit. This is on top of finding a rat in the utility room a couple of weeks ago. I am beginning to wonder should we call in Rentokil. Would they come? Mr. Waffle says that a man from a nearby road is a rat catcher (who knew?) and he walks down the lane at the back of our house every day with his terrier. All I can say is that they are not doing a great job. We have had major building work on the other side of the lane and perhaps they were displaced? Anyhow, this one had clearly been killed by the cat so that, at least, was welcome.

Daniel and I went out to play tennis. It was within 2 kms of our house and it was brief (we only played a set) but I wondered whether it was allowed. However four guards passed us while we were there – two walking and two cycling – and they all nodded approvingly at us. So, ok, I suppose?

Aer Lingus cancelled Daniel’s flight to Paris and, unsurprisingly, won’t refund us but we can have a voucher to use on flights in the future. I suppose there will be a point when that will be welcome.

I was on to my friend in Paris whose daughter has asthma and she is really worried. The hospitals in the ÃŽle-de-France are full. A 16 year old girl has died. They haven’t left the house in 10 days. They get their shopping delivered; they hand a cheque through the letter box (curious, online payments do not seem to really have taken off in France) and the delivery is left outside. They take it in; wash their hands; put the cold stuff in the fridge and leave the rest for a couple of days before using it. Her husband has lost his job – he works for a small firm so not a great time, I suppose. I’m sure he’ll find something when this is over but how long might that be?

Meanwhile my friend in America who is a doctor is very gloomy. When I asked her how things were in her hospital, she said, “Dire and getting worse.” Her husband, also a doctor, will be 50 on April 1. Not a great time as she pointed out.

On the plus side, Mr. Waffle managed to get flour in the supermarket and we made not one but two kinds of bread. They both look a bit burnt but they actually tasted quite nice.

Our next door neighbours with chickens called to say they had left eggs on the doorstep and when we got there, there were 8 eggs. We need never be short of an omelette in the crisis. Particularly since we already had a dozen in stock.

Sunday, March 29, 2020

The clocks went forward. Hurrah

Notwithstanding this, it was a grumpy kind of day. I had pinned up the rota of household tasks and myself, the Princess and Mr. Waffle dutifully did ours but the boys stayed in bed until 2 and when they got up went into a joint online dungeons and dragons thing. When they had finished, Daniel said he had to do lots of homework and couldn’t do his jobs. I was cross and had some harsh things to say about his organisation of his time. Michael offered to do Daniel’s work as Daniel was very stressed about homework. I thought that perhaps my rigid approach was not making anyone’s life happier especially poor Daniel who, to be fair to him, is a hard working and obliging child.

Mr. Waffle and I went out for a walk around the block. When we came back, everything was a bit better. I think there’s probably a moral there.

I had an online meeting with my Sunday bookclub which I really enjoyed. We did not discuss the book but we did cover what everyone is doing for alcohol in the crisis. As a non-drinker (largely), I was tempted to say that I am still off sweets and biscuits for Lent and it is killing me. But somehow, the moment didn’t arise. They’re all doing fine for alcohol, you will be pleased to hear.

The hospital said that they might discharge my father tomorrow. His temperature is normal. Hope springs eternal.

When we were out, we ran into the next door neighbours (not literally, social distancing etc) and thanked them for the eggs. I mentioned the dead rat. “Ah,” they said, “we should have said, we have Rentokil coming on Wednesday. We’ve found a couple (!) of dead rats and so have the neighbours on the other side. We think they’re displaced from the building site behind the lane and they’re attracted by the food the hens kick out of the coop.” The hen giveth and the hen taketh away. Anyhow, Rentokil will be dropping in on Wednesday. In the interim, herself tells me that she has heard a definite scratching noise under her floorboards. Oh Lord, could I ask that we be delivered from a plague of rats in the midst of our Corona virus lock down? Would that be too much to ask? I am still maintaining my Lenten fast, I would like the universe to know that. Meanwhile, Mr. Waffle is contemplating setting up a rats whatsapp group.

In what has undoubtedly been the best WhatsApp message since this started, someone pointed out that the ISS was clearly visible in the sky this evening. We all stood together in the front garden and watched it pass through the clear evening sky. It was lovely.

Plague Diary – Part II

26 March, 2020
Posted in: Cork, Dublin, Family, Ireland, Mr. Waffle, Siblings

Sunday, March 22, 2020

Mr. Waffle pointed out that yesterday was the Spring equinox and from now on days are longer than nights. Just as well.

It’s my first mother’s day without my mother. Here we are looking arty in 1969.

My sister visited the grave today and planted some flowers but she fears that the dandelion is king. Alas.

Still no Sunday mass. It’s so strange. Daniel and I went to play tennis instead but all the courts were occupied with two sets of people waiting to go on. There were four young people playing football on one court but I lacked the moral courage to do anything about it so we just gave up and went home.

Mr. Waffle and I swept the patio and cut back the foliage; something that made me ludicrously happy. Welcome to the land of middle aged thrills.

We went for a walk in town dutifully socially distancing. Temple Bar was the emptiest I’ve ever seen it.

On our return home, my loving family made me afternoon tea and gave me flowers. Very satisfactory. Herself made brandy snaps. I love a brandy snap.

Mr. Waffle is reading Daniel Defoe’s “A Journal of the Plague Year” and I am contemplating re-reading my book about the fall of Paris which I remember as being impressive on life under siege in 1870. I feel sure I will find some bons mots with which to enthrall you all. So far, all that has happened to plague diary man is that he can’t decide whether to leave London or not.

My father continues to improve in hospital and if he doesn’t catch this wretched virus, he should be discharged home safely shortly.

In other news, my hands feel like scaly lizard mitts from constant washing.

Monday, March 23, 2020

I went into work. Town was absolutely deserted. The office was pretty empty also. We’re on a rota.

Behold a city centre street at 8.15 on a Monday morning:

Brown Thomas (department store) was encouraging us to pull together in Irish.

My father was tested for Coronavirus and came back negative. The hospital said that he could be released home. My sister did Trojan work with the discharge co-ordinator. My brother was already in self-isolation in my parents’ house after coming back from France the previous Tuesday. Even though he had tested negative, the hospital said that my father would still have to go into isolation. My sister said she would move home and mind my father and she and my father and brother could divide the house between them into separate self-isolation zones. My sister pointed out that neither she nor my brother would be able to go and give my 90 year old aunt her pills and her carer has, ominously, a cold. So, unless, they could find someone else to cover, I would need to come to Cork, stay in my sister’s house, not see my father or my brother and sister and check on my aunt every day. I stood ready, given how much my poor sister is doing but I was relieved when they found someone locally.

Britain went into lockdown and my three year old niece in London who has always been pretty dubious about outside as a concept was the happiest child in England. Her parents are sending us regular footage of her ongoing delight at being indoors with both parents all the time which are very entertaining.

Tuesday, March 24, 2020

I worked from home in the morning. The technology continues to work really well although I am already tiring of the video conferencing. Mid-morning, herself and myself walked up to a local shop to buy nice bread (no joy) and the owner said that he was closing the following day for an indefinite period. I hope he comes back.

I was in work for the afternoon. There was much running around and reading the runes after the Taoiseach’s speech further shutting down the country. Was everyone’s presence in the office essential? Could we all be set up to work from home? Apparently we could. Then possibly we could but some presence was essential (as someone said, “my indecision is final”).

Meanwhile, my sister managed to get a radio and headphones into the hospital for my father. He had been having a miserable time as the light was too poor for him to read and he was too deaf to listen to the radio without blasting everyone in a 2 mile radius. Our woman on the inside (my aunt’s cleaner who also works as a hospital cleaner a couple of days a week) went and set him up and put on his headphones. He was delighted but now there is no chance of him ever picking up the phone when I call.

I noticed that I was beginning to lose track of the days of the week without the anchor of regular schedules.

The libraries which have been stellar in the crisis (audiobooks, ebooks, you name it) reassured punters that it didn’t matter when they brought back their outstanding loans. In some ways, not as reassuring as they may have intended.

I used up the last of my dinner candles. And (unrelated) still no flour available in the shops.

Wednesday, March 25, 2020

Herself began to paint her ceiling.

I did not think that the city centre could be emptier than the day before but I was wrong.

It was finally decided that we did not need a full-time presence in the office as everyone was tooled up to to work from home and the technology worked like a charm.

It was my father’s 95th birthday and, notwithstanding headphones, I managed to get hold of him and wish him a happy birthday. He was cheery at the prospect of discharge on the following day.

Herself completed her ceiling painting. I understand that further decoration is to follow, if the paint ever dries. She is currently marinating in paint fumes.

We got a communication from the school that they were engaging with the insurance company to get back the money paid for the school trip to Barcelona. I know this is very #mymiddleclasshell but here are the things we have booked and paid for this year which it appears after some engagement with insurers will not be refunded:

Ski trip last week (very bitter);
Daniel’s trip to Paris at Easter to stay with friends;
The Princess’s aforementioned trip to Barcelona at Easter (if Mr. Waffle can get no money from the insurers, I have no confidence that the school will be successful);
A weekend in Northern Ireland in April for myself and Mr. Waffle (actually, I think they might let us change to later in the year);
A fortnight in Germany for herself in the summer;
Family holiday to NY and LA in the summer (is there some chance this might go ahead? I am not loving our chances at the moment).

Still, as a young colleague pointed out to me, everyone has something. Another colleague told me dolefully of how he and friends had flown to Vietnam only be turned around and sent straight back to Ireland on the next flight.

A professional singer who sang in the adult choir at our church has died. He was in his early 70s, I’d say and very sprightly although a bit superior. Funerals are now small family affairs so we didn’t attend and I don’t know anyone who did. In the current circumstances rip.ie (a resource without which etc.) now has a load of comments under condolences and I see that the poor man seems to have died from Coronavirus. Grim.

I made the whole family watch “Daybreakers”. Only two stars on Netflix but who doesn’t like a high concept film about vampires that’s slightly schlocky (Mr. Waffle apparently).

Not having watched the news in years, I am now avidly consuming the nine o’clock news every night. Everyone hates it but me.

All of the neighbourhood whatsapp groups set up to help us through the Coronavirus are going crazy. So far no one has taken up the many offers of shopping for elderly neighbours and people are offering each other DVDs and books to swap. I suppose we all feel like a bit of community engagement.

Thursday, March 26, 2020

I worked from home. I dragged the boys out of bed about 11. They were stoic. Michael as his daily exercise cut the hedge and swept the path. I was quite pleased. Inspired by his effort, this evening I pursued my long held dream of moving the compost bin. Quite difficult but mission accomplished.

We got bad news from my sister. My father had a temperature and they wouldn’t let him out of hospital. Public health said no and public health are basically running the country now. My sister spoke to my father who is not a particularly emotional person and she said that he said his heart was broken. I feel so sad for him but fingers crossed it’s nothing serious and they will release him next week. I think we’re all a bit terrified he’s going to die alone in hospital having cannily managed his health for so long but maybe we are all unduly pessimistic. I certainly hope so.

At 8 this evening everyone in the country was encouraged to stand outside and clap for the health service. I am very grateful to the health service but I thought it was a fairly stupid idea. I forgot all about it but at 8 I was sitting inside and I heard this thunderous clapping, I went to the front door and there were all the neighbours up and down the street standing at their front doors clapping away and I joined in, somewhat sheepishly. It was surprisingly moving.

Tell me your own plague updates.