belgianwaffle

Ireland

To Dust You Shall Return


Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Twins

We went down to Cork on Saturday to bury my aunt’s ashes. It was a much deferred event and in the end this weekend didn’t really suit because a) Mr. Waffle and I had a party on Friday night; b) Daniel was staying out at a friend’s house to do a Friday 13th horror marathon and had to be picked up from there on the way to Cork and was up until 5 am being jump scared; c) my sister was enjoying a rolling crisis at work and ongoing illness and d) she and her partner were moving out of their house the following Monday to make room for the builders who are moving in until Christmas.

At the party on Friday , an old friend of mine from Cork asked me how Aunty Pat was and I had to say, not great, we’re interring her ashes tomorrow. I felt a bit sorry for him but there you are.

Anyway, we got to Cork, we got to the graveyard and we did it. It was a short ceremony and it’s pretty surprising to see how small the box of ashes is. The gravedigger knew Aunty Pat and had done some gardening work for her in the past, so that was actually quite nice.

We went for lunch afterwards which was not entirely successful because it was vegetarian which not everyone loved, Daniel was exhausted, my sister was sick and it was so loud that it was difficult to hear anything. Alas. Before we went to the graveyard, my sister had sustained us with a snack including a Cornish pasty from Marks and Spencer’s. “Look Mum,” said Daniel excitedly, “an English empanada.” Good point.

At lunch we were trying to tell Aunty Pat stories over the din. My brother said – which was news to me – that she loved rugby and when he was a kid, he used to go into her house to watch matches. Mr. Waffle and I went round to her house – where my brother is now living – that evening to watch Ireland play the All Blacks and, honestly, with one thing and another, it would have been nice if the Irish team had won. But no, it was that kind of weekend.

I feel a bit sad but I guess it’s good that she’s interred there with her uncles and aunts, brother and grandparents (her parents are elsewhere). And, as they say, she had a good innnings. In fact, she was pretty much perfect and driving about until her late 80s. She was 94 when she died and living at home. Things could have been a lot worse.

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Mid Week Break


Posted in: Ireland, Mr. Waffle, Travel

Mr. Waffle and I found a blue book voucher on the bookshelves and decided to go away mid-week. The excitement. If you gave us the blue book voucher, I am really sorry because we have no idea who gave it to us.

We went to Hunter’s Hotel where we last stayed in January 2003 just before we moved to Brussels. The hotel is nice but the food was terrible then. My sister-in-law who I normally find very reliable on these matters said, “But it’s really improved in the intervening 20 years”. I regret to inform you that it has not. Still a lovely setting though and a good spot for afternoon tea or breakfast but definitely not for dinner.

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And we went for a walk in Glendalough. All of the pines on the way up to the Spinc – which is a walk we sometimes do – have been cut down and replaced by native trees. I am sure it will be lovely in 20 years but at the moment the walk up is the abomination of desolation.

You win some you lose some. Still nice views from the monastic site:

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and from the top.

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And I am very excited about the mid-week break as a concept. I suppose this will dissipate when I return to the salt mines in the near future.

I Knew You’d Want to Know


Posted in: Family, Ireland

I cannot tell you how often I have got emails from friends and acquaintances, telling me that someone’s parent is dead saying “I knew you’d want to know.” My heart kind of sinks. I actually didn’t want to know at all and I glumly go about re-ordering my week to attend the funeral or removal, thinking that if I hadn’t known, I could just have sent a card.

One of my most used websites is rip.ie which i basically regard as a public service.

In Ireland, there are a lot of funerals in your life; that’s just how it is. You are honour bound to go to the funeral of someone you know’s parent. Unless you’re abroad. It doesn’t matter where the funeral is, if it is a friend’s parent and the funeral is on the island of Ireland, you schlep there. Sometimes the removal is sufficient. For someone less close if you have to travel more than an hour, you probably don’t have to go but context is all important and at the very least, you must send a card. There’s a whole set of unwritten rules which only fellow Irish people know how to apply and they will know , if you’ve fallen short. By God, they will know. My uncle’s funeral was on the day we were moving back from Belgium to Ireland in 2008. By car with our three small children and all the possessions the movers were not taking for us. I think, quite genuinely, my aunt never forgave me for not coming to my uncle’s funeral. My situation was not helped by my cousin (also a niece) flying home from New York to attend.

I have no idea how many dead bodies I have seen. Loads anyway. Even my kids have seen at least five or six. When I was a child and UCC was much smaller than it is today, my mother would have a look at the flag on the mast on the quad to see whether it was flying at half mast; just in case anyone was dead.

One day over the summer, I spent most of a beautiful day in the car to get to the removal of the parent of someone I worked with years ago. I was filled with rage. But when I got there I met loads of people I knew; the daughter of the dead woman was really pleased to see us all and I think it made a real difference to her at a horrible time. And I remembered all the random children of her friends who took time to come to my aunt’s funeral over the summer and how nice it was for us to have them there.

So, I suppose, yes, they’re all right, I did want to know after all.

Random Pre-Holiday Round-Up


Posted in: Ireland, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel

Jam season has begun. This is one of only two batches I made this year from the plum tree out the front. But it is still a lot and it looks ominously like we’re in for a bumper crop of apples as well.

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Mr. Waffle and I visited Russborough House which I can unhesitatingly recommend as a grand day out.

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I bought new shoes in Camper which I thought were trendy and comfortable. On mature reflection, perhaps trendy Granny. They cut the ankles off me and I’m still breaking them in though nearly there. I complained to herself. “What? They’re sore? But they look orthopedic!” she said, possibly accurately but definitely unhelpfully. Oh dear, perhaps a mistake.

It’s been lovely having her home for a bit. We went out for afternoon tea to celebrate.

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They had this in the hotel lobby. Astonishing, if real etc.

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Tomorrow we are off on our very exciting family holiday in Argentina. There will be no posting until we get back at the end of August. Stay tuned for a full debrief then including whether we make our connection during a two hour window in JFK. Those of you concerned about the cat will be delighted to know that relatives will be staying in our house to help ease her loneliness and, ok, crucially, feed her. I was in Tesco this morning and I saw this sad vignette reflecting the reality of the absolute wash out this July has been and can only hope that winter in Argentina will be both warmer and drier than summer in Dublin.

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Bedside Manner


Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland

My 94 year old aunt is in hospital. They don’t know what’s wrong with her which is not great, I suppose but she seems comfortable enough.

I schlepped down to Cork to visit her. She was moderately pleased to see me (not as pleased as she had been to see my sister who came the day before with the Guardian) but quite tired. I sat by her bed for a good while as she dozed. I had an opportunity to overhear another visitor speaking to a pretty deaf friend who was also a patient on the ward. The visitor was a member of the 1966 hurling team which won the all-Ireland and broke Cork’s 12 year drought. He seemed in pretty good nick notwithstanding his age. He was reminiscing with his friend about the All-Stars in his day – an award for great players. He said, “Remember it was sponsored by Carroll’s cigarettes then”. O tempora, o mores.

Anyway my poor aunt is still in hospital but she seems to be alright despite the absence of any real diagnosis.

Bike Related News


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

I parked my bike in town the other day and noticed this exciting bit of van parking.

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When I came back, another van was parked there. It’s clearly a regular spot. I suppose it could even be legal but, if so, the city fathers would want to have another look at their bike lane provision.

Daniel parked his bike in town for an hour and came back to find his lock in this condition but crucially, it held and his bike was still there. A win for the €40 bike lock, I guess.

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Yesterday, in my infinite wisdom, I decided that the weather wasn’t too bad and I would cycle 10kms to the physio (tennis elbow, alas). This was a huge mistake. Here I am awaiting entry and disrobing at the physio.

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And then I had to cycle home after. My shoes are still wet.

Mr. Waffle and Dan went to see Dublin v Monaghan in Croke Park today and after my experience yesterday, I was keen to drive them but they gambled and won. They cycled there and back unscathed by bucketing rain. And Dublin won. You win some, you lose some, I guess.