belgianwaffle

Dublin

The Crown Season 2


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Princess

So, back to the dentist to get my tooth fixed. This afternoon he did prep work which involved a fair amount of drilling. At this moment, I have a numb mouth and a temporary crown. I’m back in on December 17 to get my permanent crown. The Friday before Christmas, I rejoice.

In other news, herself appears to be improving, I base this on the reduced communication levels. She has had one of her poems published in a college magazine and is pleased.

And, finally, something else in the good news side of the ledger. I am very, very slowly making my way through a fat volume on the history of Dublin. There was a passing reference to the Worth Library which I had never heard of before. I emailed to find out about visiting hours and I got a lovely telephone call from the librarian, thanking me for my interest and pointing me towards their online exhibitions. Alas, they are closed due to Covid but hope to open up to tours again in the Spring. I am quite excited. Middle-aged thrills.

All Quiet on the Western Front


Posted in: Dublin, Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Monday, September 20, 2021

I had lunch with a friend whose Dutch mother-in-law had saved for me a copy of Royals magazine which had a special on Máxima’s 50th birthday. It was saved for me through Covid, flown in specially from the Netherlands by my friend and then I left it behind me in the pub where we met for lunch. Gutted.

I stepped down as treasurer of the parents’ council. I am ecstatic.

I saw on the internet that Françoise Bernard has died (at the ripe old age of 100). My mother loved her book “Les Recettes Faciles” and used it all the time. Someone posted a picture of it on the internet and it really brought me back to my childhood. As far as I know, it is still in my parents’ house. Like everything else.

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Tuesday, September 21, 2021 – Autumn Equinox

My sister is anxious that the boys, whose 16th birthday is on Monday, send her some indication of what they might like as presents. Michael is particularly hard to buy for. He sends her an email saying: “I appreciate that it must be very difficult to shop for someone with few material desires.” Where to begin?

As a lockdown project, Mr. Waffle started sending birthday greetings into a whatsapp group of people he did a European masters with in Belgium many years ago. He has their year book in hard copy (that was the only kind of year book available in the early 90s). One of the surprising things to emerge is a man who says that he lied about his birthday because he wanted to celebrate during term time. People are odd. Anyhow, lockdown is over but Mr. Waffle’s work as the pan-European birthday fairy continues.

Wednesday, September 22, 2021

Our new French conversation woman came to the house. She was greeted with resignation rather than enthusiasm by the boys but look, good enough. I hope that it works out. At least it will be in person rather than online so I hope it goes a bit better than last year. I’m quite pleased with my wheeze of putting up paper ads in the student accommodation and local shops to find someone even though it felt very 20th century.

Over dinner I said when linking two fascinating items of conversation, “to segue seamlessly”. “Did you just pronounce that ‘seg‘?” asked herself. “I did,” I said. “It’s an Italian word not a French one, it’s pronounced “segway” like the yoke,” she said while laughing hysterically. I am flabbergasted. I have checked since with friends and colleagues; I am the only one who has fallen into this error. Alas. Still I am now among the enlightened. As my Nana used to say, “you are never too old to learn”.

Thursday, September 23, 2021

Dan and Michael got their second vaccine dose. Daniels’s bike gave up. We had rescued it from the shed in Cork during lockdown when bikes were hard to come by but it was always a bit sub-optimal. I think it might possibly have been my father’s last bike before he gave up cycling in his 80s.

Friday, September 24, 2021

Poor Michael was sick as a dog after his vaccine and stayed home from school but Dan was fine. Herself got her hair cut.

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I found myself at a bit of a loose end on Friday evening for the first time in as long as I can remember. Michael was sick in bed. Daniel and his father had gone to a football match.

Herself was packing for her weekend in Edinburgh (she’s visiting a friend). She was singing “La Vie en Rose” to herself and as the house was so uncharacteristically silent, it floated clearly down the stairs. I will miss hearing her sing around the house.

My brother revealed that he will be in Dublin a day or two a week from October and will be staying with us unless that doesn’t suit. I said that we will give it a go and see how it goes; I am a little dubious. I am tidy, he is not. If I arrive down in the morning to find his dirty dishes in the sink, this may not work for us. However, I suspect it will be temporary as either he will move to Dublin full time or find another job in Cork. We will see. I believe my sister thinks I might go insane. She might be right.

Saturday, September 25, 2021

Mr. Waffle took herself to the airport at the crack of dawn. Michael was recovered, in celebration, I took him to the Beuys exhibition in the Hugh Lane gallery. To be honest, neither of us loved it. Daniel had a football match. Apple season continues unabated.

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Having announced to the family that it is impossible to make apple jelly that doesn’t set, I proceeded to make a batch that failed to set. Pride comes before a fall etc.

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My sister drove to Valentia in Kerry with a friend with a view to taking a long-planned trip to Skellig Michael on the following day. The boat was cancelled due to inclement weather, alas. Still she sent me a nice photo from Valentia.

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Sunday, September 26, 2021

Another sermon about climate change at mass which also touched on the 7 deadly sins, haven’t heard about them in a good while. The archbishop has written a pastoral letter (on climate change rather than the 7 deadly sins) which we are encouraged to buy for €2.50. I’m unsure about that investment. My attention drifted during the prayers of the faithful and I was startled to hear the priest expressing gratitude for teapots. I mean, I am grateful, more practically grateful than for other things that we may be grateful for during the prayers of the faithful but it struck me as… unusual. The priest remarked that he worked in England for 30 years, perhaps this was part of it?

Daniel and Michael had a couple of friends over to eat pizza and play board games to celebrate their birthday. Daniel managed to use the projector to put an x-box game on the big screen. We have been using the projector for film night for 18 months or so at this stage. We bring in a whole shelf of dictionaries to stand the projector on. Daniel put it at an angle on one small paperback and it projected perfectly. As his father said, “That light and optics physics course we sent him on was definitely worth it.” I feel a bit foolish.

Mr. Waffle and I went off to the other side of the city where we had a cup of tea, visited his mother and went for a mild walk in the rain. More appealing than it sounds.

I can’t believe that Angela Merkel is leaving us. The boys weren’t even 2 months old when she first became Chancellor and they will be 16 tomorrow. She has been there all their lives. I know politicians are often more popular abroad than at home but I thought she was amazing and I am sorry to see her go; it’s truly the end of an era.

Just Another Day for You and Me in Paradise*


Posted in: Cork, Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Twins, Youngest Child

Monday, September 13, 2021

So I booked myself a Covid test online even though I am double vaccinated. I was unnerved by my colleague (also double vaccinated) and his wife (ditto) getting sick. In fairness, to the HSE, it’s really easy to do. I’ve had to give far more data booking a restaurant.

Parents’ council is back. I tried very hard to step down from my role as treasurer at this meeting but failed.

Tuesday, September 14, 2021

I had my Covid test. The whole thing was stupendously efficient. I was in and out in 5 minutes. “Have you had one before?” asked the man with the cotton bud on a long stick. “No,” I said. “You’ve done well,” he said. I was slightly dreading it but after 18 months of constantly swabbing, they seem to have really refined the technique. It was a little ticklish but very fast and not painful.

Wednesday, September 15, 2021

We had salmon for dinner and I rescued my hollandaise from the freezer. It thawed beautifully. I was delighted with myself. I thought it might be nice if it was a bit warmer and plunged my plastic bowl of hollandaise into a pot boiling water because I am an idiot. Of course, it instantly split but I shoved in an ice cube and started beating frantically and it came back together. I felt like a cordon bleu genius. It was a bit cool mind when we put it on the fish but I’m definitely still counting this as a win.

Also my Covid test came back negative and I felt like a bit foolish for going at all. But still, nice to be reassured.

I drove herself out to a party. We passed a neighbour’s house dense in foliage. “Their creeper is out of control,” I said. “It’s more like a stalker at this point,” said herself. She’s hilarious. How will I manage when she is off in godless England? She pointed out that Ireland is pretty godless as well at this stage. Not the point.

Thursday, September 16, 2021

I have to say that work continues to be demanding. I am exhausted from it. I arrived home to a surprise from Mr. Waffle who had been in a bookshop and picked me up two books as a present in view of my general exhaustion. God, I was thrilled. Is there anything better than an unexpected present?

Friday, September 17, 2021

It was lashing. I regretted my choice of an outdoor play for our evening’s entertainment. It was culture night and we booked ourselves into Milano’s for a festive start to the evening. Daniel hurt his shoulder so instead of cycling in as we would normally do, we took the car. There must be some kind of mathematical relationship between how smug a cyclist you are and how awful things will be when you drive, because it took us 40 traffic choked minutes to get into town and find parking. Herself who was travelling under her own steam took 10 minutes to cycle in.

On the plus side, the weather cleared up. We could only book in pods of four for the play. I offered not to go but that was unnecessary as there was an unseemly clamour among the children to be the one who would not go to the play. Herself won.

It was in the grounds of Dublin Castle. The Castle was busy for culture night and, as always, it was nice to be herded off into a blocked off area where something exciting was happening.

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There were picnic tables for each pod to sit at and it worked quite well. We had to keep our masks on for the duration which seemed a bit excessive as we were outdoors. I was very relieved that there were seats though as I had been worried we might have to stand. The setting was lovely.

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Someone started waving from a table behind us. It was the woman who did French language conversation with the children (alas, she is leaving us this year). Then someone called my name from the table directly behind us – it was some friends from book club. We did more in person socialising before the start of the performance than we have done in 18 months. Thrilled.

The play itself was fine. It was a musical, heavy on folk music. Michael actively liked it and, as ever, indifferent to the views of others, leapt up at the end and gave a standing ovation. Michael loves a standing ovation. It was good to be out. I am going to chalk it up as one of my successes.

On our way back to the car, we passed by Christchurch. I said to the boys, “What church is that?” “We know, we know,” said Michael, “Christchurch where they keep Fintan O’Toole’s heart.” Look, close enough.

Saturday, September 18, 2021

Herself has gone to Cork to say farewell to the Cork relatives before emigrating. My sister bought her new boots in Cork. I cannot speak about the outrageous expense of this. Knee high boots from Carl Scarpa bought at full price in September. What an excellent aunt.

I made more apple jelly and stuck the posters I got at the Fringe festival on my jam jars. I mean, what else am I to do with them? I now have trendy preserves. I have to confess that it’s a bit unlikely my jar of plum jam actually could be an art space but I am spreading the message.

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I stuck up posters around the place looking for a new person to do French conversation with the boys. I felt very old, sticking up posters rather than going online. We will see what comes of it.

I, very cravenly, resigned from the parents’ council treasurer role by texting the group chat. I think I have achieved escape velocity.

Sunday, September 19, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I cycled to Chapelizod, then we went and looked at the art in the Irish Museum of Modern Art. I’m not sure I am able for it. It’s been open 30 years and they had a poster on the wall showing all their exhibitions from 1991. The only one I can remember is this one. The little man bangs his head on the bell at one point and it made a very memorable ding. Of the rest, alas, absolutely no memory remains.

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I quite liked some slightly weird portraits by an artist called Alice Maher but doubtless I will forget all about them like everything else I have ever seen there.

We went for a restorative cup of tea afterwards.

Meanwhile herself went to Dungarvan with her uncle where they were due to cycle 70kms. I await hearing about developments. Last update was at 4.30 when her uncle said, “Finally stopped for lunch after two punctures and numerous setbacks. Turns out herself isn’t that keen on 4.30 lunch either Anne [I refer you to my last lunch date with my brother], must run in the family, that plus being continually exhorted to admire the views of the UNESCO geothermal copper coast has resulted in the a less than happy [girl] but she has been stoic.”

Not sure how much of their 70kms they achieved but at least she’s fed.

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And that’s it for another exciting week.

At this point I am still trying to put off the work I brought home and did not do all weekend. I also have to do the parents’ council accounts before the AGM tomorrow night when (be still my beating heart) I will step down from the role. Oh Sunday night delights.

*Will Phil Collins ever become fashionable do you think? Will the young people some day love him unironically like they do Dolly Parton?

Updated to add: they did 68kms of their 70. Not bad!

On Holidays – Week 1


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Twins, Youngest Child

Monday, August 2, 2021 – Bank Holiday

The plumber returned. He’s keen to finish at least. We drove up to Carlingford, Co. Louth for the first leg of our holidays. It’s about 90 minutes from Dublin so a short drive. We stayed in the delightful, though oddly named, Ghan House. Recommended.

We had lunch in the town which is right beside the hotel. Inspired by friends, I had booked us in for activities. After lunch we went zip lining. We all quite enjoyed it. The children are experts and I found myself reasonably alright except for the time I got stuck in the middle of the zip line like Boris Johnson at the London Olympics.

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Our hotel restaurant, sadly, did not open for dinner on Mondays. We went into the town in hunt of food. It was not very successful. We were briefly seated outdoors at a pizza joint but no sooner had we got our legs under the (socially distanced, no you can’t move the tables together even if you are from the same household) tables than the waitress arrived out and said, “We’re not serving anymore, the kitchen is closed.” This was 8 in the evening but there you are. Mr. Waffle said that it was like the staff were from Communist Eastern Europe and were having no truck with the idle ways of the West.

We had a slightly difficult combination in that the boys and Mr. Waffle and I could eat indoors but herself as an only partially vaccinated over 18 had to be accommodated outdoors. Eventually, a nice woman took our number and our order and said she would call us when an outdoor table came free. We mooched around the (v pretty) town a bit.

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We admired King John’s castle. Imposing but, you know, we were a bit hungry.

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Herself suggested we go back to the hotel bar. There were no staff in but they had an honour system and herself went behind the bar with her hand sanitiser and got us all drinks.

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A great time was had by all but we were nonetheless, pretty pleased to get a call about 9.15 that our table was ready.

Carlingford isn’t perhaps the best spot for vegetarian options. Herself said that, having missed breakfast in the haste of our departure, she had had vegetable soup for every meal. Alas.

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Tuesday, August 3, 2021

We were up with the lark to go off canoeing. I may have overdone the whole activity thing. Mr. Waffle and I had only a very brief opportunity to admire the view from what I think was the best room in the house.

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We trekked off to the adventure centre and down to the water where we all got into wetsuits. Herself said that Michael and I looked like “Fattypuffs and Thinifers“. Neither of us was delighted. However, the actual outing was fun and our guide took us to a cave and had us stand under a mountain stream which, due solely to his remarkable enthusiasm levels, we were all clamouring to try.

After our adventure, we drove out of town to this, pricey enough but pleasant, garden centre/shop/cafe. It was in the middle of nowhere and proof, as herself pointed out while we stood in the queue for food, that if you build it they will come.

We had a quiet afternoon, exhausted from our activities. I thought I had bruised my sides but it turned out to be muscles I never knew existed squealing in agony following the unexpected activity. I went into town and visited the craft shops. I love a craft shop but I am trying to stop buying things as my parents’ house is full of things that I will be finding a home for and where on earth will I put everything.

We had booked dinner in the hotel and, cunningly, reckoning that there would be nothing Michael would eat, when booking I had asked could they make pasta and pesto for him. It was not a success, he was offended and grumpy and as herself has observed, this family runs at the rate of the grumpiest member. So even though the other two ordered away and the food was good, Michael’s outrage hovered over the meal like a gloomy rain cloud taking from the general bonhomie of the party. It was the first time we had eaten indoors (confusingly, herself can eat indoors if she is a resident in a hotel) and the portents were good but, alas, it was not a success.

Wednesday August 4, 2021

The activities continued unabated. We went to an escape room which was broadly enjoyable. In the course of our efforts to escape the young man who ran the centre had to give us hints via typed messages on a monitor. At one point one of the devices we needed was out of battery and I held it up to the camera gesturing that it was broken in the belief that he could see but not hear us. The monitor popped into life saying, “I can hear youse, ha, ha, ha”. This may have been moment of the match for me.

After the escape room triumph we went to the local library (small but with a very good selection of books), an antique/bric-à-brac place (where I restrained myself from purchase with difficulty mostly on the basis that anything I wanted to buy was almost certainly available in my parents’ house somewhere for free) and more craft shops. I was fascinated by this item in the antique place. What, we ask ourselves, was its journey from Milton Keynes to Carlingford?

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I enjoyed seeing a large dog make off with a slipper from a shoe shop with his owner in hot pursuit shouting angrily. The owner went back to the shoe shop and insisted on paying for the slippers although the woman in the shop was equally insistent she should not: it is a small town and they clearly knew each other. In fairness to the dog, I can see why it was hard for him to resist galloping off with this item clutched firmly in its jaw.

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We had lunch at a food truck (in Carlingford, yes, very nice too, I have to say although it’s far from breakfast burritos we were reared etc.). I thought of visiting Dundalk or Drogheda but my friend from Dundalk pulled no punches in telling me that they were “fairly basic towns” with only St. Oliver Plunkett’s head to recommend them. The children balked at the saint’s head so, leaving that treat for another day, we headed home.

When we got home, the plumbers were still there, there was grit everywhere and herself announced bitterly that there was an (as yet unused) toilet in her bedroom. As I pointed out to her, if we had visited St. Oliver Plunkett’s head, it might all have been sorted before we got home. She was uncomforted.

Thursday, August 5, 2021

I was up at 7 as the plumber was due at 7.30. You will recall that the work was to be finished last Friday. Mr. Waffle and I went out for breakfast leaving the children in bed. We ran into the postman who said that he had tried to deliver a parcel to us yesterday. We knew because we got the notice to collect it from the depot. “Never mind that,” said he, “I’ll drop it into you about 10 in the morning.” In fairness what a service.

We had invited friends of ours (a family of six who were over from the Netherlands – she’s Irish, he’s Dutch and the children are a mix but all v tall) to lunch. When the invitation was issued, we did not expect that the house would still be full of workmen who from time to time, as the mood suited them would turn off the water. We made a beautiful plum tart from the plums in the front garden. It looked amazing but, oh dear, tasted unbearably bitter. Alas.

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Notwithstanding the logistical challenges, it was lovely to see our friends. The children all get on and we were all invited to our friend’s 50th birthday in the Hague in October. Very exciting. She made me laugh by telling me about her brother getting a new sign for his pub. The sign writer asked him, “Where do you want the apostrophes?” As though they were a decorative feature.

The plumber left without installing the sink which, for mysterious reasons, is not available until Monday week. Look we have a toilet and a shower. It’s a start.

Friday, August 6, 2021

A plumber free morning. Mr. Waffle took Daniel to a dentist’s appointment at 9.30 which I appear to have made in a moment of insanity. I believe my thinking was, let’s get it out of the way early. I dragged myself out of bed at 9.30 so that I would be up to let the postman in. Inevitably the doorbell rang at 9.35 while I was in the shower. I scooted down swathed in towels to pick up the parcel. The postman was unfazed. I assume he is well used to seeing people in various states of undress.

I made more jam. I am sick of jam. And it now appears that apple season has started.

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We were supposed to go on a sailing trip around Dublin Bay in the afternoon. “No experience needed just buckets of enthusiasm,” said the website. I had definitely overdone the activity drive and no one, least of all myself, was in a position to display anything like buckets of enthusiasm so I was delighted when they rang up to cancel because of the weather.

A nice lady who lived on the road died. She was a great gardener and had given everyone cuttings over the years. A saintly neighbour offered to make up a bouquet for her from flowers from our gardens. Everyone was keen and she was immediately inundated with messages from people on their holidays saying, “Take stuff from my garden.” She did an amazing job and made up two big bouquets using all the flowers which seems to have been a big hit with the dead woman’s family.

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One of the other neighbours said, “We must get you on to the flower arranging team for the church.” No good deed goes unpunished but I think she will probably be alright as she is, I believe, Protestant and it’s the local Catholic church for which her expertise is being sought. I’ll leave them to figure that one out themselves.

Saturday, August 7, 2021

I did almost nothing, exhausted by my week of exertions. My brother was supposed to be in Dublin for lunch but only made it about 6 which is late, even by his notoriously lax standards. A bale of hay fell on the motorway and chaos ensued leading to hours of delay. Really. He went straight out to see friends but is supposed to be spending the night here. We await developments.

As I was making more wretched jam in the afternoon I listened to an excellent podcast about the two girls who nearly drowned on paddle boards last summer. Sounds a bit niche but the nation, including me was rivetted by this (ultimately) good news story at the time. It seemed so improbable that they should have been rescued and, listening to the story, I am even more surprised that they made it. The families involved sound like lovely, lovely people and the whole thing is well worth a listen.

On Sunday, we are off to Sligo for week 2 of our holidays and then Kinsale for week 3. I will update you on our return. I am sure that you are on the edge of your seat out there.

End of Term at Last


Posted in: Cork, Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Twins, Work, Youngest Child

Monday, July 26, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I are both facing into slightly grisly weeks at work on the basis that we are going on holidays on Friday never to return. Alas, that is not true but I am off for 3 and a bit weeks and Mr. Waffle is off until September. Rejoice. Just the week of doom to get through first.

The plumber arrives with his son to do up the bathroom. This was originally scheduled for last October but Covid did not permit. The plumber is keen as mustard. He arrives at 7.30 and says that he will be finished by Friday. He proceeds to cut off the water for the day. Herself is not delighted but at least the boys are safely in Cork.

Indoor dining can resume for the lucky vaccinated.

Tuesday, July 27, 2021

Herself enjoys another day at home with the plumber and his son and no water.

When we returned home that evening she told us that she had overheard the plumber on the phone with a client: “Look,” said he, “I’ve tried to explain to you and I’ve explained to your husband; to put it in terms you can understand, your heating system is fucked.” On seeing my precious firstborn, he said, “Sorry, I forgot you were there.” Indeed.

I had my first indoor dining experience with my Covid cert at lunch time. It was grand. Worked fine.

Daniel and Michael returned to the fold. They were not delighted by the upstairs bathroom situation but who would be? They had an excellent time in Cork with absolutely beautiful weather.

Wednesday, July 28, 2021 – Anniversary

This was our 20th wedding anniversary. “What is it for 20th?” Mr. Waffle asked. “Porcelain,” I said sapiently. Yes, indeed, the plumbers were still in situ. Plumber père announced to us at 7.30 in the morning that they would not be finishing until the following week. Unsurprising but unwelcome intelligence. Mr. Waffle and myself went down the road for an early restorative breakfast to recover.

Meanwhile, as you will recall, it is jam season. There is a bumper crop of plums from the tree this year and I constantly have some kind of jam process on the go. Daniel and herself helped me stone plums on separate nights. “It’s like that Seamus Heaney poem,” I said. Michael, however, remained unwilling to assist even when I made him read out the poem aloud. Alas.

I didn’t get home from work until 9, sadly, and no sooner was I in the door than poor Mr. Waffle was called to a work emergency. We’ve had better anniversaries. We can celebrate on holidays.

I rounded off the evening by driving out to a distant suburb to pick up herself from a friend’s house.

Thursday, July 29, 2021

The plumbers have installed a temporary shower in the utility room (it’s bad but not quite as bad as it sounds). The space is tiny, like a shower on the ferry. Better than nothing.

Herself had some friends around to the back garden. I sent them all home with a jar of jam.

Mr. Waffle and Daniel went to the Aviva: more live sports, where will it all end. The home team triumphed against, I want to say, a team from Luxembourg?

As we contemplated the ongoing works in the house, herself asked, “When we are looking after the house, do you think we are working with it or against it?” I said I thought not, remembering my father who always said, “Entropy is against you.” Perhaps it was just a low moment.

The plumbers said they would not be coming the following day but the tilers were coming on Saturday. As the plumber said, “They don’t have great English but they’re good tilers.” “Where are they from?” we asked. “Romania maybe,” he offered.

Friday, July 30, 2021

A plumber free day. And my last day in the office before 3 and a bit weeks of holidays. Rejoice. I got a work call in the afternoon (when I was off) which was not a great sign but never mind. I took herself off to get her first vaccination. Rejoice, rejoice.

Saturday, July 31, 2021

We had a very normal morning in pre-Covid terms. Herself joined her parents for breakfast out. Mr. Waffle and I cycled into town to pick up a light fitting for the bathroom. He went home then and I went on to see the Martin Parr exhibition in Temple Bar which is excellent. So good that I bought the exhibition book even though it has an introduction by Fintan O’Toole (Ireland’s foremost public intellectual) whom I find very trying. I took in the National Library photography exhibition as well. I went to the Temple Bar market and bought some bread for lunch. I went to the shops and bought more jam jars (planned) and a dress (more spontaneous). It was the most normal morning I have had in ages and I am so grateful to the vaccine for giving us our lives back.

It was a longer morning than usual though as the tilers arrived at 7.30 and I was keen enough to get out from under their feet. They’re from Transylvania actually, thanks for asking.

Mr. Waffle discovered as he was going about the monthly neighbourhood clean up that our misfortunate next door neighbours have got Covid. Only their 18 year old was not fully vaccinated but they all got positive tests and are dutifully self-isolating at home. It was particularly grim as they were supposed to be in Schull on their holidays this week.

I had been notified that a book I wanted had arrived at the library. Myself and Dan cycled up at speed, anxious to get there before it closed at 4. We had, however, forgotten that on bank holiday weekends, the library is closed on Saturday. I love my library and it provides an amazing service but this drives me crazy and it catches me every time.

I took the boys up the road for a haircut. As we were crossing the road, I met the waitress from the cafe at the top of the road whose daughter is in the boys’ school. She said how big the boys were and that she hadn’t seen us in ages. I pointed out that the cafe was closed and wondered were they re-opening now. Apparently not, after seeing the 96 pages of regulations, the owner has decided that they will remain closed to indoor dining for now. Understandable – particularly when they have a well-established bakery. It seems pretty difficult for cafes and restaurants – I do feel for them.

Sunday, August 1, 2021

At mass, the leaflet said that one of the saints whose feast occurs this week was Saint Eusebuis of Vercelli. It was such an odd name that I looked him up. Quite dull but his wikipedia entry refers to St. Lucifer of Cagliari. I kid you not. He’s worth a look even on the basis that wikipedia feels no need to comment on his unusual name.

I went into the Hugh Lane gallery on my own in the afternoon (my family having declined this offered treat) and had a sustaining tea and a bun in Bewley’s afterwards. How much am I enjoying having my life back? Very much indeed, thank you.

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