Dublin

Plague Diary – Part XI

25 May, 2020
Posted in: Belgium, Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Sunday, May 17, 2020

A quiet day. We have broken out the jigsaws at last.

Cleaning rota was implemented as usual. I still feel astonished that this is working some seven weeks in.

Mr. Waffle and I went walking around our area again. We went to a depressed, miserable estate. It’s only a stone’s throw from the very nice estate we walked around last week. The houses are also Victorian and bigger (three stories rather than two) but it is not a pleasant spot. One of the houses is boarded up. The front gardens are unloved and there are no trees or other greenery on the street. Many of the houses are divided into grotty looking flats and bedsits. It’s a mystery why this should be so unattractive and the other estate so nice. It’s also off the main road and, obviously, adjacent to all the same amenities and the houses are bigger so, presumably, better for families but yet, it looks like it’s had almost a century of neglect whereas the neighbouring estate looks like it has had a century of love and affection and you can really tell the difference.

I retired to my bed at 8 in the evening with a nasty headache. Poor me.

Monday, May 18, 2020

I woke up completely recovered. We were all up at the crack of dawn as the boys are doing online exams this week.

My father called me which was exciting. Sadly, he couldn’t hear me at all. It made me so sad. I think he is really lonely and bored and, to be honest, quite unwell and I am afraid that he is going to keel over before I have a chance to talk to him properly again. I don’t know whether to go and visit or not. I mean, it would be just great if I came from Covid ridden Leinster and gave it to my father in Cork. There is absolutely no point in my going and waving from outside the window as he wouldn’t be able to see and hear me. I need to be a metre from him and bellowing to have a conversation.

Herself got a lovely message from her German teacher which perked her up; she’s recorded a video for her project work and the German teacher liked it which was good because she put in an awful lot of work on it. The boys had Irish and maths exams online this morning. Daniel found maths easy and Irish hard and Michael the reverse. A suggestion that they might compare their answers and learn from each other was met with a distinct absence of enthusiasm.

We were going to meet friends for a walk this evening to celebrate the beginning of phase 1 of the end of lock down (up to four people from different households can meet outside maintaining social distancing) but the weather is inclement and we’ve deferred it to tomorrow.

I had my online bookclub and we were a slightly gloomy group. The novelty has truly worn off. Still, things are improving. Slowly.

I stayed up until all hours on my phone. A slight regression caused by not putting it safely in the hall before dinner and ignoring it for the remainder of the evening. I am largely on the wagon again but this was a lapse. Alas.

Tuesday, May 19, 2020

All the climbing roses around the front door have come out and when you step out there is a beautiful smell of roses which I don’t think I ever noticed before [insert your own jaded thoughts about slowing down and smelling the flowers here].

Daniel’s year head got in touch with me to tell me that he had not submitted his maths test from yesterday. When he finished his morning’s testing, I enquired. He had failed to press send on the google form but, happily, he had his rough work and was able to re-submit.

Herself went into school to empty her locker on a socially distanced timetable.

After work, Mr. Waffle and I met friends for a sunny and socially distanced walk. It was really lovely. In person is 1000 times better than by vc.

Having cast my phone from me early in the evening, I dutifully went early to bed and felt smugly virtuous.

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

I was up at the crack of dawn (8.00) to go to our local hipster cafe for take away fancy bread for breakfast. It was, disappointingly, only alright.

The boys continued their online exams. Some seem very speedy and easy with 20/30 multiple choice questions but some are hard and long (history, for example). They finished their 2 hour science exam in about half an hour and assured me they had checked their answers twice so I sent them off to the local courts for a game of tennis. However, despite tennis courts and golf clubs having reopened on Monday, it appears public courts are not. Alas.

I got a parcel from a lovely shop in Leap which I saw referred to on instagram. The parcel was satisfactory – candles and writing paper (neither of which I would call a need, as such but definitely nice to have) – and I will give them a plug here for all your nice things needs (no free goods were given in exchange for this post, regrettably). The shop is called the Old Mill Stores and I desperately want their laundry thing that you hang from the ceiling. Our utility room ceiling is the old scullery and the ceiling slopes. I emailed to ask whether they thought it would work. They replied with commendable speed and said that they thought yes but I should check with a local handyman perhaps. Mr. Waffle who, you will recall, has established his temporary office in the utility room was a bit unsure about having a cast iron structure above his head. Particularly if it were installed by either of us. The Princess has taken to calling the device “the widow maker” so with one thing and another I’m holding off for the meanwhile but feel free to go for it yourself.

The weather was so nice that I decided we should have a barbecue and I went up to the butcher to buy necessary material. It felt like traffic was back to pre-Covid levels, I must say. I’m a bit worried we’ll be going backwards soon.

We ceremoniously turned off the Aga, it was just too warm. I will miss my environmental crime scene over the summer months. I have to say, it’s really come into its own during lock down – it’s very cozy when you’re home full time and who doesn’t need three ovens?

Herself met her friends in the park for a socially distanced walk which was fine but, I think probably not as exciting as she had been hoping. The 2 metres is a bit miserable for everyone but children and teenagers in particular, I think.

Mr. Waffle and I went for a mild walk in the, very warm, evening sunshine and then we had our barbecue in the garden which was lovely. Though the barbecue probably needs a wash (I assured them that all of the germs inside the barbecue were dealt with by the heat – hoping for the best here). Another exciting lock down project.

Thursday, 21 May, 2020

We woke up to no wifi and when you have two people doing online exams, two people doing online work and one person doing online school, that’s a bit of a disaster. Happily it came back at 8.55 but it was on and off all day which was very tense making.

The boys had their German exam. Daniel decided to try the French exam as well on a “why not?” basis. Michael decided that there were lots of reasons why not and didn’t bother. Later in the day, Dan had his business exam. I asked him to show me his French paper and in doing so he inadvertently deleted his business exam and had to start again. This online examination system needs some work.

Herself arrived down to breakfast with a heart tattoo on her chest and I nearly had heart failure before having had time to reflect that there was nowhere to get tattooed and being reassured that it was a temporary tattoo. It took a lot out of me.

As I was finishing work for the day, the phone rang from an unknown number. It was IPSOS/MRBI polling about public health. Lads, I love a survey. I always answer surveys. I’ve never met a survey I didn’t like. For years I have been looking at IPSOS surveys in the paper wondering bitterly why I have never been surveyed. I was delighted. The conversation went as follows:

Her: Would you be prepared to take a call from IPSOS/MRBI?

Me: Yes, very much so, I would love to, I’ve been waiting for this moment for 51 years.

Her (laughing): OK, your data will be anonymised, you won’t be identifiable, GDPR, call recorded etc. etc.

Me: Fine, fine, I’m ready.

Her: Do you have anyone between 15-34 living in the house?

Me: Yes, my daughter is 17.

Her: Do you think she’d be prepared to take the survey, it’s very hard to get people between 15 and 34.

Me: Yeah, I’d say she would. I’ll ask her. [Talk to herself, yes, back to pollster]. Yes, she’ll do it.

Pollster: You’re going to hate me.

Me: What, you’re going to survey her instead of me??

Her: Um, yes, I’m afraid so.

Bitter isn’t the word for me. Herself, myself and Mr. Waffle went out for a walk afterwards and she told us about the questions. Lots about the nation’s reaction to coronavirus and who we trust the most. She spent the rest of the evening prefacing her views with “Nation’s representative 17 year old about to speak”. Bitter.

On the plus side, I was out in the front garden cutting some roses for the house and a lovely young person passing by said, “You have a beautiful garden.” Of course, credit goes entirely to the people who lived here before us but I was pleased all the same.

Friday, 22 May, 2020

The boys did their last online exam and are finished school for the year. It was lovely to see them so genuinely delighted. Mr. Waffle had bought them a new game for the x-box and we let them play it together (it’s quite an innocent thing about preparing food in a restaurant with cartoons and we were rather touched as we’d been quite prepared to pay for the more standard shoot-em-up offering).

Meanwhile, herself started her exams which seemed tough enough. Three hours of English. She hates Paul Durcan, I’m afraid.

I had a coffee break with a friend based in Brussels. We would never have done this in peace time but I must say, it was quite satisfactory in its way. VC is better than a phone call. Begium is further along in its re-opening than Ireland and she told me that she and her husband were getting the tram into town that afternoon to go to the gallery on a socially distanced pre-booked visit. I nearly expired from envy.

My afternoon off was not what it might have been due to a number of work queries. One of which came as I closed the boot of the car (first vehicular outing in many weeks) and due to distraction, I brought it down on my poor daughter’s head. She has a bruise the size of a duck egg.

Mr. Waffle took the boys out with a kite as it was windy. Some success. The wind also brought down the climbing roses at the front of the house so I spent some time with twine and nails pinning it back. It fought back and I may have permanently embedded a number of thorns in my person.

We watched “The Social Network” for our film. Not a bad choice but three of us had already seen it. I was amazed to discover that none of my children had heard of Napster.

Saturday, May 23, 2020

I was up bright and early. Dan had a training session via zoom. I sat in the back garden in the rain holding my phone. Better than doing the plank, I suppose.

I tried out the new x-box game we bought for the boys. Very wholesome but still too hard for me.

Mr. Waffle and I cycled in to town in the rain. Town was busy enough. We tested out the new cycle infrastructure. It’s a start. Better than it was but not reaching the lofty heights of “good”. We walked around Stephen’s Green in the rain.

We wondered, as never before, about whether the sculptors of the statuary in the Green would entirely approve of the gardeners’ placing of pots of geraniums. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that they probably don’t enhance the vision the sculptors had for, respectively, a famine group and Robert Emmet.

We had a zoom quiz night organised by my friend. We won. As ever, first prize, organising next weekend’s quiz night.

Sunday, May 24, 2020

My sister tells me that my brother has spent all weekend at his tennis club rejoicing at the re-opening of the courts. I note that the public courts in the park up the road from me still haven’t re-opened. This seems a pity. I am regretting letting my tennis club membership slide.

Yet again, the cleaning rota went off without a hitch. Miraculous. Entropy is against us and it will all be to do again next week. Sigh.

I met a colleague in the park for a socially distanced work gossip which we both enjoyed very much.

Daniel, Michael and I cycled 10 kms (5 out, 5 back) to look at the sea. Although the weather was beautiful, we were all a little grumpy. I met a former book club member on our cycle and could not remember her name although she clearly knew mine. Alas.

We started another jigsaw. I stayed up until all hours working away. Alas.

It’s all go here, how are things in your own Corona virus 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 V

11 April, 2020
Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Work, Youngest Child

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 clichÃ© which has gained traction (also a clichÃ©, 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.

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.