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Hodge

Plague Diary – Part VI

19 April, 2020
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Dublin, Family, Hodge, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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 can’t guarantee you’ll get a slot as they’re available on a first come, first served basis, but this gives you the best chance of securing a slot. That means it’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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Herself has cut her own hair.

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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?

Rainy Saturday

15 February, 2020
Posted in: Dublin, Family, Hodge, Ireland

We were all in reasonably good form this morning. Yesterday evening I had said that we were going for a walk in the mountains to look at the snow. This announcement was greeted with limited enthusiasm. Even I had second thoughts overnight and was contemplating getting out of bed early without truly looking forward to it and only sustained by the reflection that we would enjoy it in retrospect. I was awoken at 9ish by rain dashing against the bedroom window and the glad tidings that it was too wet for our walk were conveyed to the children by Mr. Waffle while I sat up in bed with my book.

I was summoned from my bed at 10 by indignant shouts from herself. The cat had got sick on her bed. One of the joys of adulthood is cleaning up cat vomit, I find. Normally this falls to Mr. Waffle’s lot but he was out getting bread so I was the chosen victim. Later, leaving the boys in the thrall of their electronic devices, Mr. Waffle, the Princess and I braved the rain and went to breakfast in a local cafe.

On our return we brought all the children to town to acquire new hiking boots (when will their feet stop growing?), a camp bed (can only be an improvement on the air mattress, surely), more candles and some Magic the Gathering Cards for the boys (if you don’t know, you’re better off). We got sodden but it was speedy. Then we came home and were still back in time to drop the cat vomit soiled duvet to the dry cleaners (the hilariously named “Day and Night” cleaners which closes at four). Then we came in, lit the fire and battened down the hatches. It’s been delightful.

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How’s your own Storm Dennis day going?

Matters Mouth Related

26 January, 2020
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Hodge, Michael, Princess

The cat somehow managed to hurt her nose. She may have got into a fight. Unclear. Mr. Waffle took her to the vet (which she did not enjoy) and the vet pronounced her to be basically fine and we should just wait and let her get better. €60 we will never see again. Sigh. Anyhow to skip to the finish, she did recover, but in the intervening fortnight she was unable to lick herself clean. Who knew a cat could become so revoltingly smelly. That licking behind the ears regime is startlingly effective.

Meanwhile, herself had another appointment with the medieval torturer who is passing himself off as an orthodontist. Honestly, if I had known at the start how much prolonged misery it would involve, I would never have started. I mean all she had was one little snaggle tooth (as our American cousins say) and it was actually quite cute and characterful. The orthodontist has now applied those dreadful elastic bands which are attached by hooks on the inside of her mouth. The pain, the poor child. She told me that the dental nurse said to her that she couldn’t go until she had put on the bands herself. It took her about 2 attempts. The dental nurse sighed and said, “It’s always the same, girls can do it straight away but boys take about 14 tries.” She speculated that it might be because girls look at themselves in the mirror more. It’s possible, I suppose. When she returned home, bloody, battered and elasticated, her brothers’ words of comfort were uncomforting. Daniel offered, “Now there is no food that you can’t readily turn into a catapult.” Michael said, “Isn’t it a good thing that I have perfect teeth?”

And in final tooth news, Daniel’s front tooth was declared dead by the dentist and he had his root canal treatment (€450 but cheap compared to the braces). Daniel said the procedure wasn’t too bad and he was quite cheerful during and after even though he had to lie there for a good hour with his mouth open. I took him for a bun afterwards and he ate it up with every appearance of enthusiasm.

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He then took himself off to GAA training that evening without a bother. All in all it appears to have been far less painful than his sister’s brace tightening which is something, I suppose. I have to go to the dentist for my regular check up next month. I’m not sure I can face any more mouth related trauma, so let’s hope it passes off peacefully.

Extended Round-Up

4 November, 2018
Posted in: Boys, Cork, Daniel, Family, Hodge, Ireland, Michael, Princess, Siblings

The coda to our logistics last week was getting Herself back to France. She was due to fly out at 9.50 on Wednesday morning. Alas, I did not see some form online which was supposed to be filled in for under 16s [Air France didn’t need one but Aer Lingus did – I know, I know, when you’re explaining you’re losing] and she was thrown off on the steps of the plane. Mr. Waffle had to zoom back to the airport and re-book her for a later flight and then we needed to re-book her train from Charles de Gaulle to the west of France. It was all a bit stressful. She is Miss Super Competent in fairness to her. She got on the plane in Dublin and from there, unaccompanied, navigated her way to the train station in CDG and on to the express train back to her host family in the west of France.

Poor Mr. Waffle meanwhile spent the morning in the airport (unexpectedly, obviously) and then came home to find that the wretched cat had captured a blackbird and brought it into the kitchen. Mr. Waffle arrived home to a storm of feathers and the bird standing dazedly on the work surface between attempts to hurl itself out the closed window. The cat was pacing the floor frantically some dimly understood precept (or possibly her vast bulk) preventing her from hopping up on to the work surface. Mr. Waffle threw her into the utility room and ushered the bird into the garden. The cat got out the cat flap in the utility room and was waiting anxiously for them at the back door so that escape plan was not entirely successful. The bird got out eventually and we are still finding feathers in surprising places. Joy.

Meanwhile it was Halloween in Dublin and for the first time since moving in, our decorations beat next door’s. It could be that now that their children are 19 and 17 they are not trying so hard but I like to think that we really tried. The boys looked very impressive in their costumes but were too sophisticated to go door to door and just wore them for school.

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We had planned to go to Cork for a couple of days over mid-term before Mr. Waffle’s father died and I wondered whether we should cancel but after some humming and hawing we went in the end. In a new development, the boys stayed in my parents’ house and Mr. Waffle and I stayed with my sister. This was a very satisfactory development for everyone except, possibly, our host.

We drove down on Thursday night which was a bit of an epic trek but it did mean that we woke up in Cork on Friday morning ready for a day of Cork related fun. In what can only be called the high water mark of family cultural engagement, the boys said that they wanted to go to Charles Fort in Kinsale on Friday, so we did. It was a bit damp but we missed the worst of the rain. On the strength of this, I bought a new family heritage card for €90 which means that we have to go to at least six heritage sites over the next year to break even. I fear the worst. So do the children.

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We went for lunch in the Bulman and Daniel took the obligatory before and after pictures of the ketchup bottle to send to his uncle who does not love ketchup. The waitress assured me that ketchup is part vegetable but I am not entirely convinced.

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We took the traditional picture at the caution children sign.

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On Saturday, my brother and sister minded the boys for much of the day (including a trip to Milano’s for pizza, let joy be unconfined) leaving myself and Mr. Waffle to our own devices. We were a bit blinded by the unexpected freedom. We went for breakfast and, after a trip to the Crawford gallery and a mild wander around the town in the rain including a look at food fair in the City Hall, we waddled on to lunch. In slight desperation, wondering what to do next, I asked Mr. Waffle to check a list of 17 hidden exciting things to do in Cork he found on the internet. One of them was feed the ducks in the Lough. I mean, I’ve no objection to feeding the ducks but I wouldn’t exactly call it exciting. We had about an hour and a half until Mr. Waffle was meeting a friend for coffee and I almost suggested going home (to be fair, it was lashing) but then I had a mild stroke of inspiration and we went to see Elizabeth Fort and the Protestant cathedral.

Elizabeth Fort boasted mildly exciting views and an air raid shelter which I don’t remember seeing before. It was extremely damp and had a random collection of cold damp objects for viewing including this slightly alarming map.

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I quite like the cathedral although I am not generally a fan of neo-gothic. Mr. Waffle wondered about the candles and the IHS on the altar. “Maybe they are very high church?” I offered. “Not in Ireland,” he said firmly. He said it was the least Protestant looking Protestant church he had ever been in. I wonder was he misled because Ireland is basically full of 19th century neo-gothic churches that are Catholic and there are inevitable stylistic similarities. It’s a mystery.

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That evening, the boys played board games with my sister and her partner and had a fantastic time.

We drove back on Sunday morning. It was actually a really good idea to go in the end. We all had a lovely time. It turns out that despite the cynical words of my son Michael on another occasion, there is such a thing as fun for all the family.

Culture Night

22 September, 2018
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Dublin, Hodge, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle

Last night, the boys went for French lessons (not a success). While they were there, as part of Culture Night, Mr. Waffle and I went to the RIA and the Mansion House. I’d been to the Mansion House for events before and it was grand but a bit dull. Not their brass, though, which was impressively shiny and made me realise, sigh, that my own is in sad need of polishing. A very enthusiastic woman in the RIA explained about the Irish Historic Towns Atlas and explained, even to my satisfaction, why on a 25 year project when even Youghal and Bandon are done, Cork city is not due until 2020. Apparently it’s because Cork is particularly difficult to do as it has a very complex and ever-changing street landscape. So there.

We went with the boys to the Terry Pratchett exhibition in Trinity which was disappointing as it was a bit heavy on lecture and light on other elements. There was a great map though. It was a bit of an evening of maps.

We went to Gotham (a pizza and burger joint off Grafton Street) for dinner as I could not face Milano’s. It was crowded but they were able to put us outside. It was the first time in years I’ve eaten my dinner beside a smoker and the first time ever for the boys who were displeased but also fascinated. “Wait until tomorrow,” I said, “when you wake up, all your clothes will smell of smoke.” We packed up reasonably rapidly and went home.

When I was going to bed I noticed a weird small rash thing on my neck. “Probably stress,” I said to myself gloomily. In the morning, however, it came off in the shower so I can only suppose that it was ketchup which ended up on my neck due to a combination of peculiar eating habits, shortsightedness and poor hygiene. You’re welcome.

In other cultural news, Mr. Waffle and I are going out to the theatre this evening. It’s a thing in the Fringe and only an hour or so; we are leaving the boys to fend for themselves. Mr. Waffle has just come in after struggling for about an hour with a ladder and the unhappy interaction of the down-pipe and the rose bush in the front garden. I’ve told him we’ll have to leave for the theatre in about 15 minutes. He’s delighted.

We spent the day ferrying Daniel and Michael to various activities – tennis, drama etc. But, we also looked at ovens for our new kitchen. I want to get an aga. Am I crazy? Stove/oven advice very gratefully received.

Just now, the cat has skulked to the flower bed with a dead mouse between her jaws, I can only hope that my shouting at her, “Don’t you dare bring that into the house!” will be effective. All the news as it happens here.

And how has your weekend been so far?

Alas Alack

22 April, 2018
Posted in: Hodge

There was an all-white cat who lived in one of the houses at the top of the road who had been coming to our house and putting the frightners on Hodge since he was really quite small. He had one green eye and one blue eye. We called him Griddlebone and he marched up and down the gardens of the road as though he owned them. He frequently wandered into our house in summer when the doors were open to Hodge’s furious and hissing disapproval. Only the other day, I arrived home to find Mr. Waffle indignantly announcing that he had just seen Griddlebone weeing against the kitchen window (from the outside, I hasten to add). Griddlebone was insouciant, he was nimble and devil may care and the other morning, I found his body on the busy main road nearby. A neighbour came out and took in the body before it got squashed. Apparently his owners called him Bowie; he’ll always be Griddlebone to us.

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