belgianwaffle

Dublin

This Week’s Theme is… Leprosy


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Princess

I got a book about madness out of the library last weekend. The first chapter deals with leper houses and I was talking to herself about this. Don’t tell me you don’t torture your children in similar ways. A lengthy discussion followed about the symptoms of leprosy. Then about leper colonies and how there is a Dublin suburb called “Leopardstown” because the land was used to fund a lepers’ hospital. The following day we visited Dublinia [we had tickets saved from a promotion on milk bottles – are you getting a picture of our home life?] In the, always popular, death and diseases bit there was a wax figure of a leper.

Then today at mass, the readings and the gospel featured -oh yes- leprosy. Herself was listening closely because she was up on the altar doing a try out for altar girl (successful). And the priest was fresh back from his visit to a leper colony in Africa so we covered that in the sermon.

There may be a lesson here somewhere but you’ll have to work it out for yourself.

We’re Alive!


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

During dinner this evening, the carbon monoxide alarm went off for the first time ever. It’s very loud. My ears are still ringing. As Mr. Waffle wrestled with it, Michael kept posing questions through the ringing and things became a little tetchy. The alarm instructions (which, yes, we had to hand, OCD and its many uses) advised that we go outside and leave all the windows and doors open while we called the emergency services. We might well have done that had it been summer and not quite so rainy. Instead we stayed indoors, put the children to bed and later consulted the internet.

You will be relieved to hear that we’ve turned off all gas appliances (last serviced in October for heaven’s sake) and are sitting in the cold. Having re-checked with our original alarm and the spare (your point? it was sitting waiting in its packaging for this moment), all seems to be well now. However, a man will have to be summoned before we can put on the gas fired central heating, the cooker or the gas fire. Alas. I will be retiring to bed early with a hot water bottle.

Mr. Waffle (installer of the carbon monoxide alarms) is mildly triumphant. But he doesn’t feel the cold. Still, if you have gas appliances, I should, I suppose, take this opportunity to suggest that you invest in a carbon monoxide alarm.

This is What Living in Ireland is Like


Posted in: Cork, Dublin, Ireland

Me: I see there’s a reference to you in that new book by [mildly famous person].
Friend M: I am so mortified.
Me: I didn’t even know you knew her, how do you know her?
Friend M: Through Anna.*
Me: Who’s Anna now?
Friend M: She’s the woman who was married to J before Mr. Waffle’s friend C.
Me (to my mother who was listening): Oh you know C, Mum, she’s the younger daughter of Mrs. H who taught me in Senior Infants.

*Names changed to protect the innocent.

Linguistic Issues


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

A colleague was telling me about a little boy in his children’s Irish language school who refused to speak Irish. He was hauled into the head’s office for a chat. “Why aren’t you speaking Irish?” she asked him. “Well, a mhúinteoir,” said the 5 year old, “say what you like, it’s a Béarla world out there.”

He’ll go far.

Religious Fervour


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

A new priest turned up to say mass this morning. “Good morning,” he boomed cheerfully into the microphone, “I am Fr. Pat from America.” We all sat up and had a good look at Fr. Pat. He’s the new head of All Hallows and he was reaching out to us. I think it’s fair to say that we were all a bit tense about the reaching out. The majority of the congregation is well over 60 and the remainder of us are timid, nervous creatures (apparently only 14% of Dubliners are weekly mass goers so my whipping out the children on a Sunday morning must add significantly to the total).

During the sermon he made us all repeat several times “dignity, passion, believe”. We didn’t evince enough enthusiasm for him and I was irresistibly reminded of the pantomime which we graced with our presence last weekend as he tried to whip up his lacklustre congregation.

In his sermon, he talked about how he had been at a conference and the organisers had asked how would they introduce him. “Now,” he said, “I have lots of formal official titles, but that was a moment for me, I said, ‘Just introduce me as child of God.'” I know he meant to be humble and I shouldn’t mock but I found myself thinking, “Wasn’t that really just being a bit awkward for everyone concerned?” I mean, we’re all children of God and it would be handy to know what particular attributes this child of God might have before he addressed the audience.

We had to do the “passion, dignity believe” thing again at the end of mass and we were urged to communicate these words to those around us during the week. I’m not getting any pictures here.

The older I get, the more conservative I get; doubtless I’ll be looking for the Latin mass back soon. As for Fr. Pat, I’d say he has his work cut out for him. I represent the liberal face of the Church in Ireland.