Ireland

Monday, May 25, 2020

We have no real engagements in our private life any more. This is what the family google calendar looks like now.

We contacted the orthodontist (herself is still miserable with the snapped brace) and she has an appointment for mid-June so that’s something I suppose.

I rang the council to ask about the tennis courts and spoke to a very nice man who said he was only a lowly functionary but the “higher ups” were concerned as council courts and golf clubs couldn’t reopen as, unlike private clubs, they couldn’t guarantee the disinfectant and social distancing required. At least I know why now. I enjoyed the frank exposition of the position which makes sense, I suppose but it does seem a pity. I might see whether I can rejoin the tennis club if this goes on much longer.

Herself continued her examinations. Her maths teacher, in what can only be called an excess of dedication/sadistic exercise, set each child a different paper based on his or her weaknesses. I understand it was in part due to a desire to limit opportunities for, ahem, teamwork. She said it was alright.

Daniel and Michael cycled into school to pick up their stuff from their lockers. We’re a bit unclear about what they are going to do now that they are on holidays and don’t want them to spend every waking hour online. In a non-synchronised effort which could have done with a little more preparation, I told them that they couldn’t play on any electronic devices in the afternoon and Mr. Waffle told them no devices in the morning. The difficulty only emerged at lunch time and we were merciful and let them on devices in the afternoon. What are we going to do all summer?

I had my online book club in the evening and work proceeded on the jigsaw.

No corona virus deaths announced today which must surely be a good sign. I feel filled with, perhaps unwarranted, optimism.

Tuesday, May 26, 2020

I got a mystery bill (by letter) for €2.14 from UPS. I have never had an account with them as far as I know. But it seems an odd amount to try to scam from me. I have sent them an email querying it but I am half inclined to pay it as I am weak and feeble and it is only €2.14.

Herself had her German exam which she said was fine. “Fine” is possibly the most overused word in describing school work and exams to parents. She is busy editing an online quarantine magazine put together with her friends.

The boys are at a bit of a loose end. Related: we finished another jigsaw.

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

Mr. Waffle made sourdough. While it rose a bit more than previous attempts, I am afraid it cannot be called a complete success. Sourdough is a cruel mistress. He also bought croissants for breakfast. Complete success there.

Herself had her applied maths exam. It was hard going. She informed us dolefully that the teacher had said there would be some easy questions and some hard ones and she couldn’t tell which were which. Oh dear.

With the return of outdoor workers, we got a man in to fix the basket ball hoop. Rejoicing.

The cat was going crazy this morning trying to get into the oven. File footage of the cat going crazy:

We ignored it as best we might looking nervously at the unremovable fitted kitchen which surrounded the oven.

I missed lunch due to work issues. Bitter.

At about 5.15 as I was toiling over a hot laptop, I heard a commotion outside. Daniel had kicked a ball through the shed window and the basketball into the next door neighbour’s garden. I texted the neighbours who dutifully tossed back the ball; Michael and I went to sweep up the glass in the shed while Daniel had a restorative bowl of cereal (recovering from the shock of it not being a catastrophic pane of glass to break – level of parental ire: mild).

When I got back to the kitchen, Daniel was pointing at the oven in horror, “There’s a noise, behind the oven.” There was, kind of a fluttery sound, could it be a bird? The unit around the oven is sealed and although there is a small hole at the top, how could a bird have got in? Mr. Waffle said bracingly that it probably flew in the back door but Occam’s razor suggests that it was not a bird that had got in there but something much more sinister.

Aside here on rats and mice. A colleague told me he was bringing up tea to his wife on Saturday morning and thought he saw movement in the bed while she was in the bathroom but said nothing. When she got back into bed, she thought she felt a mild muscle spasm in her leg but didn’t investigate. When she got up to make the bed she found a small dead mouse in the bed. Great unhappiness. The working theory is that she squashed it when she got back into bed. Then another friend of mine had rats under the decking (classic) and called in Rentokil. They told her that, with the lock down, restaurants were largely closed and not only was the usual food supply not there but in normal times restaurants are constantly putting down poison to ensure that vermin are rigorously excluded from their premises but, obviously, not now. So there’s an uptick in rats etc. Good news.

Anyhow, there were myself and Daniel staring horror struck at the oven when Mr. Waffle arrived in to say that Daniel had a zoom training session at 5.30. I undertook to do training, if he would deal with the noise. I did training. Daniel did 800 reps in 45 minutes. I didn’t even know what a rep was before this (it’s one exercise, like a push up or whatever). Those teenage GAA players are the fittest people you will ever meet. Did Mr. Waffle get out our (best case scenario) trapped bird? He did not. I finished work. We went for a long walk. When we came back we heard a scrabbling noise behind the oven. I mean now we appeared to be moving to best case scenario dead bird behind the cooker. My sister suggested we might sprinkle lime behind the cooker. Dear God. I think we might have to get the basketball hoop handyman back to extract the oven and peer behind.

After dinner herself went to her room to recover from the undoubted traumas of the day. Mr. Waffle, the boys and I played an extremely competitive variant of happy families.

Thursday, May 28, 2020

I woke up at 3 in the morning with a sore finger from where I got a thorn in it at the weekend. Early start to the day with a tweezers and needle. Not recommended.

The cat was indifferent to the oven. There were no more noises. Mr. Waffle is inclined to ignore the problems, sweep them behind the oven, if you will but I continue to be…concerned. Herself, who sleeps over the kitchen, announced that she heard a fluttering noise under her floorboards overnight.

The boys made lunch and herself made dinner. I began to realise that just because I now work at the desk where previously I sat to do domestic admin does not mean that I can complete all of my domestic admin and my work admin in the space of the working day notwithstanding the fact that I am now have no commuting time. I am also increasingly realising that talking to people at work about non-work things helps work to work and it is hard to replace with video conferencing.

Friday, May 29, 2020

Rejoice for the bank holiday weekend and glorious weather. We got a nice bread delivery. It was the last day of school and exams for herself and she celebrated by going for a picnic with friends in the park. She hasn’t been sunburnt for years as she is assiduous about covering herself up and putting on suncream but she missed a large swathe of her back and was burnt to a frazzle.

The boys were also enjoying their new found freedom to meet friends on a socially distanced basis outside and met friends in the park for what they assure me was a very successful dungeons and dragons session.

Mr. Waffle and I went for a middle aged but delightful stroll around the botanic gardens.

We had a barbecue for dinner and afterwards had “Seven Psychopaths” for our Friday evening film. I wouldn’t have chosen it myself but not bad. Colin Farrell was excellent. Half way through, one of the children said, “Hang on, is he Irish?” Yes, my cherubim, he is.

Daniel said excitedly that it had been his busiest day since lock down started : French class in the morning (still ongoing despite protests), Dungeons and Dragons in the afternoon and barbecue and film in the evening. The poor child.

Saturday, 30 May, 2020

I was up bright and early to film Dan for his GAA zoom training session. I picked all my peonies as peonies are not consistent with GAA training.

Mr. Waffle and I cycled to the village 5 kms away which I used to find utterly charming and delightful but now is palling slightly.

Cow parsley was growing in great profusion along the river banks. I find myself in some difficulty with cow parsley. In the interior design focussed, occasionally twee and whimsical, corner of instagram I now inhabit (having abandoned twitter as too vicious), people love cow parsley, my God, they love it. Now my mother was a farmer’s daughter, my grandfather and uncle were farmers and a number of my cousins are farmers. I will tell you this, farmers are not taken with cow parsley, they do not see its interior decorating charm and we grew up being told it smelled of cow urine. I can’t say whether this is accurate as, being a city girl myself, my experience of cows is not extensive, but yet, I cannot love cow parsley and pick it in great photogenic armfuls to sit in my bike basket. Too many of my relatives, alive and dead, would snigger at me. Maybe next year.

We dutifully hosted the online quiz which we won last week. It’s more fun guessing than asking the questions. I did enjoy reading the quotes for the poetry round though.

Sunday, May 31, 2020

I got up late which is something I really quite enjoy and don’t get to do very often. We dutifully completed the cleaning rota now in its tenth week (sigh). I had my Sunday book club (not to be confused with my Monday book club) which I hadn’t had for four weeks. We are hoping for a real, non-virtual one in July. Do I indulge optimism too far?

We cycled to the seaside and had chips on the seafront as a bank holiday treat. I’ve had worse. Herself announced, “I have yet again inadvertently swallowed an elastic.” Upon observing tactless laughter, she added bitterly, “Oh yes, serving up orthodontic humour since 2018.”

My father went back into hospital (small private not large acute, but still unsatisfactory). I feel strong regret that I did not drive down to Cork to see him while he was at home. There is zero chance they will let me in to the hospital. As soon as he gets out, I will hotfoot it to Cork with my letter from his GP saying he is very sick and hope to be let through by the Guards. My father’s alright, I think, as in not going to die immediately, but frail and 95 and in hospital so not, you know, great.

Monday, June 1, 2020

I brought out the paddling pool. Mr. Waffle mocked me but we all ended up paddling, so there. We spent all day in the back garden in glorious sunshine. Herself went to meet friends for a picnic in the botanic gardens. Mr. Waffle said that he liked how our lives are less frantic at the moment. I know what he means a bit. We were always squeezing things in and running to training or to meetings (residents’ committee, parents’ committee, you name it) after work but I don’t quite see how we will preserve this post lock down.

Back off on my bicycle to the village 5 km away. Honestly, I’m beginning to think it will be too soon, if I never go there again.

Tuesday, June 2, 2020

This was my first day off work in the new dispensation. I struggled a little bit to know what to do with a day’s holiday. It was a beautiul day but I didn’t quite know what might be different or novel or a treat. I felt the boys needed a bit of exercise so we cycled to the botanic gardens again. They were less than entranced.

It was warm and sunny and not bad but just a bit…repetitive. My day’s triumph was making homemade lemonade which was very nice indeed. We take our thrills where we can.

Wednesday, June 3, 2020

I paid for my day off and was pretty busy at work. I am sick of video conference calls. My sister, who has worked for large multinational companies since leaving college, has been managing remote teams for years and I sense that she is mildly smug as the rest of us struggle with the new dispensation.

My father has been diagnosed with a new illness to add to the long list he has already. As my sister says, it’s chronic which means you can have it for a long time, but still, not maybe a great sign. No word on when he will be let out of hospital.

Daniel had training at 5.30. I have been doing the zooming with him but a work crisis meant I was chained to my laptop so Mr. Waffle took over. Daniel deemed him unsatisfactory: he did not explain the exercises; he failed to count Daniel’s reps (hark at me); he kept saying Daniel should give up if he was tired (Mr. Waffle does not have the same puritanical streak as me); and, worst of all, his phone ran out of battery ten minutes before the end and herself had to be deployed to put an extension lead out the utility room window. Unfortunately, there’s a bit of a knack to the window and herself hasn’t got it so that led to further delay and unhappiness. I have a friend who says that when people say that “there’s a bit of a knack to it” they really just mean, “it’s broken”. This is, arguably, true.

At the start of the lockdown, I commissioned an artist whose stuff I had seen on instagram to paint a portrait of the children. It seemed like a nice thing to do. I sent her loads of photos of the kids so even though she couldn’t see them, she knew what they looked like and she felt it would work ok. Yesterday she sent me a picture of the picture which I will be picking up next week. When I signed the contract with her it provided that she retained the copyright (standard, apparently) and I was sad but now that I have seen it, I will never want to show it anywhere, so that’s ok. I’m not quite sure what went wrong. I saw her other stuff and liked it. But this picture, oh dear. Actually Daniel is ok but Michael looks manic and, as my sister said, herself looks ok but just 30 years older than she actually is. Alas, an expensive and ultimately unsatisfactory experiment. Look, at least I will be spared framing costs. And on the plus side my (not at all expensive when compared to the cost of commissioning a picture) new oven gloves from Marimekko arrived and I love them. I got a pair previously as a present and I can really recommend them: stylish yet practical. It has come to this.

Thursday, June 4, 2020

Another busy day in the salt mines. Herself made an extraordinarily elaborate dinner which was very nice on two counts: firstly, it was very nice and, secondly, I didn’t have to cook it. She was chopping and dicing from lunchtime onwards.

She called it East, East, East, East fusion: gyoza from Japan, spring rolls from China, saffron rice and carmelised lettuce from, maybe, Iran (I forget) and vereniki from Eastern Europe (generally rather than a specific local recipe). As Mr. Waffle said, “At least we won’t have to worry that she won’t be able to feed herself when she leaves home.” There was lemon sorbet and raspberry sorbet with chocolate sauce for dessert but I haven’t got any pictures.

My brother has a new job in Dublin. Theoretically at least. He won’t actually be let into his new office until autumn at the earliest, I’d say so he’ll be based in Cork for a while yet. He is pleased. We are pleased that he will be in Dublin. I’m a bit worried about my sister alone in Cork minding elderly relatives but she seemed sanguine when I spoke to her.

Also, it’s been a week since the fluttery noise. No update. Ominous.

Monday, April 6, 2020

There’s a bit of a problem with tenses in my plague diary. Some of it I write live on the day (mostly, but not always, present tense) and some I write in retrospect a couple of days later (mostly, but not always, past tense). What I really need is a good editor. What I’ve got is me, so sorry about that. Never mind, onward.

Professionally this is a happy day for me. Three weeks ago, I agreed to keep a watching brief on a colleague’s area while he was on an extended holiday. Can I tell you that this is not a good time to hold a watching brief? He has returned to the (virtual) office today and I am filled with joy.

First of the online birthday presents purchased for herself arrived. Like the shopping it’s gone to decontaminate in a plastic box in the shed for three days (it’s also hiding out so that she doesn’t find it early). Is this excessive? Who knows? I asked the man who delivered it what it was like out there? “Just the same, really,” said he, “except the traffic is a bit quieter.” It’s going to be a bumper birthday for herself on the present front as we all feel pretty sorry for her. I said this to her and she said sadly, “I just want to be with my friends.” I said that this just underlines how much more important people are than things but it was perhaps not the moment for my philosophical gems.

We signed up to delivery of the Irish Times and our first copy arrived. I was filled with delight. It was not put in the plastic decontamination box for three days (to be fair it arrived in plastic so, ok, I suppose?).

The orthodontist finally called back. There is nothing they can do. I could wish they’d called last week when I needed them but better late than never, I suppose.

It’s the most beautiful morning and herself went off for a cycle in the park. I’ve agreed to get up early tomorrow and go with her before starting work.

Another busy day at the office. Mr. Waffle repaired the basketball hoop in the garden. I had been smugly congratulating myself on getting it installed so it was inevitable that it would fall down.

Mr. Waffle, herself and myself went for a cycle in the park. The boys played basketball in the back garden. The hoop fell down again.

It’s seven years this month since we moved into this house. I don’t think I have ever been more thankful (and I am pretty pleased with this house almost all the time, let me tell you). If we were still in the old house, I think we might all have murdered each other by now. I do feel for families, particularly families with small children, in smaller houses or houses without gardens, this lock down must be particularly grim for them.

I had my Monday night online book club after dinner which was satisfactory. The book club is now officially book free. One of our members has three siblings who are doctors: an anaesthetist, an A&E consultant and a professor of epidemiology. We were instantly curious about the epidemiologist “How is she getting on?” we asked. “Very busy, ” said our book club member “but she said that on the plus side, for the first time, our parents believe that she has a real job and even understand what she does.” We’re all amateur epidemiologists now, of course.

Tuesday, April 7, 2020

The Princess and I went for a cycle in the park at 8 in the morning. I felt filled with virtue when I sat down at my home office desk at 9. Not sure I’ll be able to keep this up though. Possibly related: I am constantly ravenous. I’m not sure why but my regime in the office seems to involve a lot more food. I can’t wait to end my Lenten fast and start eating biscuits again. A cup of tea and a cracker is no substitute.

I had my lunch time walk and saw a bumblebee. The weather was absolutely beautiful.

My sister has been told that she will be working a four day week for 10 weeks. She seems fine with it.

Herself attended a virtual birthday party for a friend. Cheering.

Wednesday, April 8, 2020

The Princess and I went for our early morning cycle again. It was hard getting out of bed but I was rewarded by an overwhelming sense of smugness. The cycle was nice too. Another beautiful day.

But all the days do feel a bit the same. Work was a little trying.

In our exploration of our neighbourhood 2km zone, we found a community garden with an impressive artichoke supply.

Thursday, April 9, 2020

Another day at the home office. Work was a bit difficult. The cliché which has gained traction (also a cliché, in my work world things are always gaining traction) in the crisis is that we must all “put our shoulder to the wheel”. It is driving me crazy, I mean for one thing, that is several shoulders. I had intended to take next Tuesday off but, alas, it was not to be; I will be putting my shoulder to the wheel. Still a four day Easter weekend beckons and that’s very welcome.

The home office is not as wonderful as I thought it would be. A bit stressful. I was on a conference call this morning and herself and Mr. Waffle wandered in looking for the Pears encyclopedia having decided that the internet was insufficient to meet their needs. She said aloud, ” I was wondering whether the Chaldean Christians are in communion with the Church of Rome.” Answers in the comments please. What can I say, we’ve all been learning new things. It gave others on the call a slightly misleading impression of the standard of conversation in our house. Earlier we covered extensively, “Why won’t people wipe down the table after breakfast?” and that’s probably a bit more representative.

I’ve completely fallen off the wagon in relation to phone use. I was down to about an hour a day and I dutifully put it away for the evening when I came home from work. Now I find myself keeping it in my pocket all evening and checking it a bit obsessively. As of today, I am going to try to go back to normal and put my phone from me in the evenings. I can’t help feeling that it will help.

When I was out for my lunch time walk, I saw a poster produced by the city council advising people to respect social distancing. I see that they did a Polish version as well. I don’t remember seeing that kind of information notice in anything other than English or Irish before.

I finished work about 6 and went out for a celebratory stroll with Mr. Waffle and herself. All of our local parks are becoming very familiar. But it’s a nice time of year to walk in the park and the days are getting longer.

The basketball hoop broke again.

After some initial technical difficulties, I had a reasonably successful zoom call with my siblings but my sister told me that she was working for 15 minutes while my brother and I had a free and frank exchange of views about the demands my father is placing on my sister. He likes her to call to the house every day, my brother says she shouldn’t, I say she should do what she feels is best, we both have strong views. The object of this discussion was not very focussed on our conversation, clearly, but it’s good for her to know that we care. My father is improving, you will be glad to hear. The upshot of this was that I had my phone in my hand at 10 at night and then spent hours mindlessly scrolling. Alas.

Good Friday, April 10, 2020

The office is closed so not only am I not working but no one else is either. So no stream of unsatisfactory items is being delivered to my inbox. Welcome.

Herself and myself cycled to a bakery to get flour (delivered in a brown paper bag) and nice bread. We passed an open flower wholesaler on the way and stopped to buy flowers. He was closing at 10 so we got in just before he closed. At her request, I bought her a bouquet of thistles for her birthday. Yes, I know. I asked the florist whether things were slow and he said that normally they do a lot of Easter flowers for churches and this had fallen off but some churches are live streaming Easter mass and wanted flowers so it hadn’t been too bad. V exciting to interact with a non family member even at a safe social distance.

The trendy young man at the bakery said, as he handed over our various purchases on a cardboard tray, “I love your flowers, thistles are my favourite.” Honestly, the young people.

After lunch, I painted eggs for Easter and made a wreath. I am very proud. I see these items playing a role in the montage for the extended family bake off competition.

Presents from online vendors have been rolling in for herself. I spent an hour of my life I will never get back on to eBay trying to work out what had happened to a package. It turned out that Mr. Waffle had received it from the courier and hidden it safely in the shed without opening assuming it was something he had ordered. Questionable bonus, I now have an eBay account.

The Department of Education announced this afternoon that the Junior Cert (State exam taken after three years of secondary school) is off. It went from on to off and back on and now finally off. I really feel for Daniel who has been gutted, relieved, gutted and now delighted. It’s been a roller coaster. Michael who is also scheduled to do the Junior Cert this summer is indifferent. And the Taoiseach announced that we’re all to be in lock down for another 3 weeks. That’s a good long time. Maybe time to sort my bookshelves which, frankly, could do with it.

This picture uses internet trickery to put all the bookshelves together but they are scattered around the room and surrounded by piles of books. The books are two deep on the shelves and somewhat alphabetical but it is almost impossible to find anything. I am generally a pretty tidy person and inclined to organise and throw out (my family believe I’m a changeling, my mother felt that perhaps I got it from my Granny – is tidiness hereditary?) but books are my Achilles heel.

Herself has gone off cycling again. She goes out for an hour almost every day – sometimes two. I feel that it’s really good for her in a range of ways. It’s good for me too when I work up the energy to go with her. Mr. Waffle repaired the basket ball hoop again.

To round off a fun evening, Mr. Waffle and I cleaned out the fridge. Ticking off lockdown objectives like there’s no tomorrow, frankly.

Yes, we do get through a lot of milk.

Saturday, April 11, 2020

I have bought a sourdough starter online. Who even am I? I am doing a lot of online shopping. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. I’m trying to buy stuff from smaller Irish companies to help spread a bit of money around and keep things afloat in my own small way.

I am filled with energy today as I managed to cast the phone from me yesterday evening about 7 and stayed away from it all evening. I was tucked up in bed at 11 and today I am bright eyed and bushy tailed. And possibly a little tiresome for the children. We’ve begun baking for the family bake-off. We’ve decided to have everything ready for tomorrow to eat at a birthday tea for herself. Notwithstanding the undoubted eating capacity of this family, I predict many baked Easter gifts for the neighbours.

Mr. Waffle’s hot cross buns:

My meringues are a work in progress, and I am cautiously optimistic.

And I’m making bread as well because this is the kind of person I am now, apparently. Did I mention my sourdough starter?

Further gardening: it was a lovely day for weeding. Myself and herself went to pick up a box of pre-ordered delights from the local organic etc market. It turned out that they were not very well organised and we ended up queuing for an hour to pick up our pre-paid for goodies. With social distancing the queue wended its way around the building and through the unappealing concrete car park. It was blisteringly hot and I had failed to put on sun screen. My very responsible teenager had done so. “Why do you need to? We won’t be outside,” said I when she was spraying it on. Anyway she sent me to sit in the car so that I wouldn’t be burnt and I was suitably grateful. After this queuing in the Tesco underground car park was a doddle.

When we got home, we had tea in the garden to recover from our outing and sampled Mr. Waffle’s hot cross buns. They were excellent.

I have a gratifying feeling of being up to date with domestic admin, last experienced when I was pregnant with the child who will be 17 tomorrow.

We went out and shone lights at 9 possibly for front line workers; possibly for ourselves as we all had a grand (socially distant) chat on the street.