belgianwaffle

Ireland

Decorative Gourd Season Update


Posted in: Dublin, Family, Ireland, Mr. Waffle

I played tennis this morning at 10 and cursed myself for agreeing to get up early a third morning of the bank holiday weekend, I mean why, why would I do that to myself? But, as always, it was very enjoyable when I got there and we all played really well (it was the regular doubles group) or else the beginners at the next court made us feel we played really well but either way we were delighted with ourselves and had tea and bun afterwards to celebrate (we always have tea and buns afterwards if we play on the weekend).

Afterwards I went into town on my ongoing decorative gourd quest. Even though Halloween is next Friday, upstairs in the homeware section of Dunnes (my happy place, sadly, I know, sadly) it is Christmas and all trace of Halloween has been removed. Downstairs in grocery though what did I find? Oh yes, decorative gourds galore. Reduced to clear to boot. I got nine for €4.41 (managing to avoid the mouldy ones). Where would you be going?

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After lunch, Mr. Waffle and I went out to the pier for a walk. A bit wet but not actually raining. What can you call that but a win? The ice cream vendor at the end of the pier was open as well so I got a 99. Thrills.

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After our health giving walk, we were going to go to the Royal Marine hotel for a cup of tea (our help in ages past) but our eye was caught by this new place where we hadn’t been before – Haddington House – I can definitely recommend. We got lovely cosy seats by the fire and very prompt service. The Royal Marine is a bit careworn and although there are lovely views from the drawing room, the good seats are often taken by people who bagged them in 1966 and haven’t moved since. Younger punters like us are generally shunted in to the windowless back room so all in all, I think our pier experience will be considerably enhanced by the entry into our lives of Haddington House.

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We dropped in to say hello to Mr. Waffle’s brother on the way home (he limped to the door after yesterday’s marathon experience but seems otherwise unaffected). He had lots of news; they are staring down the barrel of major house renovations and they have just found somewhere to live while the builders take their house apart and put it back again. He was home alone as my nephew and niece were out with their friends and – rather more excitingly – my sister-in-law had just left for Tokyo for work. I would like to go to Japan, I must say; though not for work. And that was that for the weekend. There is something to be said for a peaceful bank holiday weekend. How was your own bank holiday, if you celebrate?

Damp but Cheerful


Posted in: Ireland, Mr. Waffle

It is a bank holiday Sunday here and the day of the Dublin marathon. After Mr. Waffle had cheered on his brother and the half dozen other people he knew who were doing the marathon (I know!), we got out of dodge and went to Carlingford. We walked up the mountain and viewed the bay. It was quite wet I would have to say.

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Usually you can see the Mourne mountains really clearly across the bay but not today. “Fog in Carlingford Lough, UK cut off,” said Mr. Waffle.

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However, climactic conditions notwithstanding it was nice to be out. We had a lovely lunch as a reward for our walk and a look around the cute shop beside the cafe (can I recommend this spot if you ever find yourself in Carlingford?). I thought it might need my Halloween decor needs but it did not. My quest for decorative gourds is ongoing and time is now running out. I started looking too early and then I stopped and now it appears to be too late. Alas.

There was an article in the paper yesterday about Halloween being more Christmassy than Christmas and I sort of know what the writer meant. I have enjoyed getting out my Halloween tat and laying in sweets for the little trick or treaters but there’s no pressure. Not that I don’t still love Christmas, of course.

Democratic Duties


Posted in: Cork, Ireland, Siblings, Travel, Twins, Youngest Child

I was in Cork yesterday for a work event which I signed up to blithely in the summer when I wasn’t as busy as I am now and when I thought I could make a weekend of it. Then, the presidential election was scheduled for yesterday; my sister’s partner’s mother was the subject of a conference on her lifetime’s literary labour (admirable) and my sister and her partner were away providing moral and other support for the conference subject; and I also inadvertently booked myself in for the Picasso exhibition guided tour at 9.15 this morning (more anon, possibly). All in all, I went to Cork on Thursday and came home yesterday evening about 9.30 which was not at all what I had been planning.

Due to my exhausting schedule (and 9.15 exhibition tour on Saturday morning), I went to bed early and missed Michael who was out late. This morning I was (deep regret) up with the lark and as I passed Michael’s bedroom, I saw that it was empty. I scuttled downstairs to get my phone: he would definitely have texted me if he had been going to stay out all night. No text. I began to feel extremely nervous. I zoomed to the kitchen where, to my enormous relief, Michael and his father were breakfasting together. Michael was in his pyjamas gloomily scooping cornflakes into his mouth. He had only got in at 2 in the morning and he was off to the RDS to act as a tallyman on the presidential election count starting at 9. He enjoyed it once he got there but he was definitely thinking hard about his choices at 8 in the morning.

Idiotic Injuries I Have Sustained this Week


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Twins, Youngest Child

For reasons I won’t bore you with (you thought there was nothing I wouldn’t bore you with, think again), my electric toothbrush charger is on a low shelf in the dining room. My old electric toothbrush died in July after many years of faithful service and I bought a new one. Was the new one working? It was not. When put on the charger it blinked its light rapidly trying to convey a message but what was it? Unclear. When taken off the charger after sitting there overnight, it acted like all life was extinct. I crouched on the ground beside it trying to reset it and explored various youtube videos in vain. Eventually I sprang angrily to my feet in a state of extreme frustration and banged my head on the marble mantelpiece giving myself mild concussion for the weekend (no reading, no screens, some throwing up) and I seem to have jarred my back also and it was quite sore for a couple of days. On the positive side despite not having retained my receipt, Boots gave me a new electric toothbrush instead when I showed them the Revolut receipt (showed location and amount spent but not what spent on, if you see what I mean). Pretty pleased and surprised about that.

Michael had a terrible cold all week which he transmitted to me on Thursday and I felt pretty miserable on Thursday and Friday and, honestly, not too hot today. It’s the first time I’ve been sick since last Christmas (a miracle which I partly attribute to the flu jab which I will be getting again this year) so I’m just not used to it.

I paid a man to rehang all my pictures after the painting job (judge away) and he came a couple of weeks ago (stay with me, this is a bit relevant). He did an amazing job but never have I felt so judged for my very inadequate art collection (mostly a series of prints acquired in my 20s). He said family photos have their place but there was no point using his expensive time to hang them. I was inclined to agree. I hung them myself yesterday, on the landing in a spot a friend of mine once referred to as “shrine of revered ancestors”. It was a long and tedious job involving the ladder, several dusters, some unorthodox hanging techniques (ask me about thumb tacks) and windolene. I did not enjoy. As I was standing on the ladder, hammer in one hand, picture balanced precariously on the top step of the ladder, masonry nails between my teeth (big tip I got from picture hanging man is that to hang almost everything all you need is one short masonry nail) when sneezes began to rack my poor sickly body. I sneezed, I spat nails, the hammer fell, I twisted to save the picture from the same fate and somehow, I hurt my lower back making me incapable of bending for the rest of the day. It is still a bit sore today but better, thanks for asking.

Where, you ask, is the holiday content you came here for? Stay with me, it’s on the way.

A Period of Unparalleled Hideousness Begins


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Twins

We’re getting the hall, stairs, landing and reception rooms downstairs repainted.

Work began on Monday. I have already agreed to buy a new carpet for the stairs and landing and to remove all the anaglypta (probably no loss). The idea is that the work will be completed while we are on holidays. Unfortunately, it started before our departure. The photos below do not at all convey the level of absolute chaos that prevails at home. I went to the bathroom in bare feet the other morning. A painful error.

The painting plan was set up before we realised that one child would not be on holidays but would be at home in Dublin preparing to resit an exam. My brother (agent of chaos) will also be staying in the house. Have we set up our child to fail? Well, we’re not exactly removing obstacles from the path, that’s for sure.

Anyway off on holidays to France now. Back in mid-September with tales from the holidays. Something for you to look forward to.

Sibling Content


Posted in: Cork, Ireland, Siblings

My brother was going to stay Sunday night as he was going to the Oasis gig but then cancelled as the tickets were too dear. I would say that most people had probably secured their tickets sometime in advance of the Friday before the gig. As the children say, “He’s not a tame uncle, you know.” He’s full of surprises. However, he met one of them for lunch recently and parted with €50 as well which was gratefully received by the indigent student fund trustees. Herself is scheduled to meet him in September when she returns from her extensive holidaying. She’s a regular dining companion. I can’t help being concerned that it may all beggar my brother.

My sister hasn’t been in Dublin for ages and the last time she was up it lashed rain and our only outing was a rather grim stroll around the block. However, we have been down to Cork for her not fifty yet party. I have to say, it was pretty good. She had a pizza van parked in the driveway; a magician; a children’s entertainer; and herself and Michael were scheduled to give a historical tour of the area but had to extemporize and give the talk inside instead because of the phenomenal rain which, arguably, follows her around. Still, a pretty impressive logistical feat. I contributed my mite by digging up baby pictures for her to hang up around the house. I think it’s fair to say that, notwithstanding the challenging climactic conditions, a good time was had by all.

It was the weekend of the all-Ireland hurling final and Cork were favourites to win. The city was festooned in flags. Consider this motorway bridge on the approach to the city.

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On our drive back to Dublin, I said, “Will we listen to this hurling match on the radio?” I have literally never watched a full championship match in my life, let alone listened to one on the radio but my curiosity was piqued after our Cork flag experience.

GAA commentators are known for their quirky style so I was only mildly surprised to hear the commentator opening with the line, “Belinda Carlisle said ‘heaven is a place on earth’ and today she could be talking about Croke Park”. Anyway, to cut a long story short Cork were winning comfortably in the first half and then utterly collapsed in the second allowing Tipperary to win. It was such a collapse that it was noteworthy in all kind of ways. It spawned a series of headlines and none of them flattering to Cork. Apparently there is a phrase indicative of solid contentment in rural Tipp – “the hay saved and Cork bet”. Well they delivered on that on the day.

It was a bad day for the bookies; for the man who got “Cork All-Ireland Senior Hurling Champions 2025” tattooed on his arm; and for the woman who decided that now might finally be a good time to take an interest in Gaelic games.