belgianwaffle

Dublin

Things that happen to you when you are over 40


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Reading etc.

I have spent the last number of evenings alphabetising our book collection. This is disturbingly entertaining. I may be going insane. In a dull meeting today, I found my mind wandering longingly to the four shelves that then remained to be tackled.

I have a burst blood vessel in my eyeball. It is not an attractive look.

Ireland won the rugby Grand Slam. Alarmingly, I remember when we won the Triple Crown in 1982. Last Sunday afternoon we saw the bus bearing the victorious players and pieces of plate go by while we were stopped at traffic lights. If the children become international rugby stars, we will remind them of this moment – my brother is working hard on their skills, only this evening he had them all practising doing a scrum together.

I am cycling to work and finding that the world of cycling in Dublin is very macho. It’s all men in lycra with high visibility vests and sporting helmets. I miss Brussels where there was a gender mix in the cycling population and all the competitive macho cycling took place deep in Flanders.

I discover that my writing style has started to resemble that of a a TV critic, desperately trying to knit together disparate elements under an unlikely unifying theme.

Exciting neighbourhood


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Siblings, Travel

My brother, driving me home from dinner, said “I know you’re a great believer in the classless society and all that but, for the sake of the kids, would you not move somewhere more normal?”

It’s not rough here, it’s just very…urban.

Sodden Oxen


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Twins

Daniel and I explored the customs surrounding Chinese new year on Saturday.  We went to a hairdresser in the north inner city where all the customers and all the hairdressers were Chinese.  Ni hao to you too.  Daniel made friends with a little Chinese girl and she filled us in on what happens.  “People will throw money at me,” she informed us gleefully in her Dublin accent.   There are about 11,000 Chinese people in Ireland according to the last census figures.  The barber whom Mr. Waffle patronises dismisses this.  He says that there are 11,000 on Parnell Street alone.  He is clearly bitter about the competition.

Continuing our authentic Chinese theme, Mr. Waffle and I went for dinner to a Chinese restaurant in Parnell Street on Saturday night.  It was not very nice, alas.  We parked nearby and while Mr. Waffle went to get a parking ticket, I went and peered into a large somewhat delapidated Georgian house where a big van parked outside, bright lights and a wide open door in the pouring rain indicated that they might be making a film.  I hoved up to the three lads standing in the doorway and asked.  In fact, no, they were making a music video for Emmett Scanlon.  “Who’s he?” I asked.  “Me,” said the one in a shirt with ruffles.  “Don’t you recognise him?” asked one of the others.  “He’s going to be famous.”  Not famous yet though.  He directed me to his website and as an act of human charity, I am going to put in a link to it because Emmet and his mates seemed to be quite a nice bunch.

Finally, we went to inspect the Chinese new year celebrations in the city on Sunday.   We brought my sister too because bonding with her niece and nephews is very good for her.  The kids made kites.  The driving rain made it difficult to get them to fly.  The children would have been happy to watch the Silk and Bamboo trio all afternoon but the adults were getting wet and dragged them away.  They did get to shake hands with a person dressed as an ox, so this softened the blow of not being able to see the dragon over the top of the Chinese ambassador’s umbrella.

Apparently the ox is known for fortitude.  Well, I’d say that he’ll need it this year.

Domestic Felicity


Posted in: Dublin, Middle Child

We have a new carpet on the stairs, it is cheap, as these things go, and it is beige.  It has made me more happy than I believe a carpet should.

I wish, though, that we hadn’t got it laid the week we finally started toilet training Daniel.

Everywhere I have ever lived – 2008


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

After a prolonged stint in Mr. Waffle’s parents’ house over the summer, we finally moved into our own house in the second week in September.

I think it would be fair to say that it is not the house of our dreams.  We are warming to it though.  It’s handy and it’s ours (co-owned with the bank, obviously).
My top ten list of things that we really need to do:

1. Sand and polish the floorboards in the one room downstairs.  The filthy bare boards which were inserted to cover up the hole in the floor created by our useless electrician are really getting me down.

2. Carpet hall stairs and landing.  More filthy bare boards.  Also some filthy blue carpet with flowers.

3.  Fill and paint over all the remaining holes left by the electrician.

4. Put some more of the junk in the back garden in a skip.  Cut back some of the more threatening foliage (the other day I found, not one but two old bicycles nestling hidden under random undergrowth at the side of the house).

5. Blinds for downstairs (in train).

6. Tiles for the kitchen – walls and floor.

7. Something to stop the water dripping into the kitchen roof.

8. Insulation for the attic.

9. Somehow to create smooth walls and get rid of the uniquely unpleasant woodchip wall paper.

10. Do something, as yet unclear what, about the floorboards in the upstairs bedrooms.

This is but the tip of the iceberg.  I have not even mentioned the bathroom – best for everyone.

Finally, November is over.  Mr. Waffle has declared next month is to be NoMoBlo.
I really hope that I pick up one of these prizes, not that I am threatening you, Mrs. Kennedy.  Well, not if it would jeopardise my chance of an etsy voucher.