belgianwaffle

Ireland

54


Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Reading etc., Siblings, Twins, Youngest Child

I was in Cork during the week with my bike. God, it absolutely lashed, it also snowed and hailed. And it was uncharacteristically chilly. I had kind of forgotten the intensity of Cork rain, cosseted as I am in Dublin where it never rains much. My rain gear which is fine in Dublin proved inadequate for Cork. I was out and about a bit so it was put under some strain. Inter alia, I went to see Reggie in the Everyman – funny in places but pretty site specific as they say, can’t see it travelling outside Cork – Reggie was in Elec Eng the year ahead of me in college and I’d say that he has more lucrative ways to make a buck so he must really love it. He was a brilliant debater in college and the best bits of the show are when he interacts with the audience, he’s very fast on his feet. Something about his accent and some of his expressions really remind me of the Cork of my youth and my parents’ friends so I have a bit of a soft spot for him.

The purpose of my visit was to keep an eye on my aunt as my sister was away. To be honest she seemed pretty well minded without me and I was quite impressed by the trail of people in and out every day which my sister masterminds from her fastness next door. Still, my aunt was very glad to see me which was pleasing.

I found a box of my mother’s old papers from before she was married. There were loads of old letters and her diary from the year she spent in England. I had a quick look through it pending a more thorough perusal in due course and many days are marked in capital letters NO POST. My poor mother. That said, the box is full of letters sent to her in England so there must have been some post.

I came back on the train on Thursday. My rain gear completely gave up the ghost on the cycle to the station. My boots (still drying as I type) were super saturated as were my socks. My rain jacket and trousers leaked at cuffs, joints and hems soaking through all the layers I was wearing. I was, foolishly, not wearing waterproof gloves but my nice Paula Rowan ones that Mr. Waffle bought me one Christmas. I literally had to wring them out in the station. They will never be the same again. I was frozen and damp on the train home. Sigh. Don’t give me this “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing” guff.

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I derived mild pleasure from sending my brother this picture from the train showing snow in Tipperary as he is in Morzine next week and rain is forecast. Rain!

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I arrived home safely in time for my birthday celebrations. Mr. Waffle had made superhuman efforts as had all of the children. I got messages from all and sundry (why would you keep your birthday a secret? why?) and lovely flowers from a former colleague as well as great presents from Mr. Waffle, the children and my siblings. A triumph overall.

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Sadly Mr. Waffle was up to his tonsils at work and couldn’t take the day off. It was snowy but bright and sunny (Dublin weather) so I went to the park and took some pictures for myself. Sadly, I also got a puncture but into every birthday some rain must fall (though not, generally, in Dublin).

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We were invited to dinner at my oldest friend’s house. I have known her since I was born (our parents were friends). On the way over to her house I explained to Mr. Waffle how this was an important time as until April 20 (her birthday) we were the same age and she could no longer tell me what to do. Mr. Waffle said, “I think that was understandable when you were children but it’s a bit weird that you are still talking about it now.” I was extremely pleased that her birthday card adverted to this very fact.

I must say being 54 is not at all as I anticipated when I was 24. I am beginning to realise that everyone is still 24 on the inside.

Farewell Thou Good and Faithful Servant


Posted in: Ireland

I have had this little rucksack since at least the late 1990s and have used it very regularly over the years.

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It has been super reliable. I used it for all skiing trips as it is very visible on the slopes and a good size for kit. Unfortunately my complete photographic archive dates from after the birth of my children so I cannot show you an earlier photo. You’ll just have to believe me.

It has been slightly fraying at the seams for a while but when I was in Annecy, it finally gave up the ghost. I will be returning to Messrs Sporthouse for a replacement. Nice back story as well.

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Updated to add: Mr Waffle found this picture from 2008 in the family photo album. See rucksack in situ. The apparent sparkler on Michael’s snow castle is merely the flash on Mr Waffle’s v unsatisfactory camera.

Neighbours


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

Where I grew up, we didn’t really have neighbours. It was in the city but it was mostly college property near us rather than other families. Now I live on a street with lots of neighbours. Mr. Waffle is pretty sociable but I am still adjusting to this state of affairs.

We had a very neighbour-filled weekend. There was the street clean up which my loving husband co-ordinates (“Doing the council’s job for them,” he mutters darkly).

Our next door neighbours’ daughter is an artist and she did an amazing mural on the wall outside the garage. We had a small ceremony with crisps and champagne in the lane to celebrate.

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Our neighbours two doors down have just celebrated 50 years of marriage and 48 years on the road. They had 16 of us around to celebrate. No caterers either. We were by far the most recent arrivals (10 years on the road). Most people had at least 20 years and our neighbour from across the road was born on the road and has been living here 71 years. When I mentioned that to Dan he was astounded, “He’s 71? I thought he was the same age as you.” He is in very good nick but still.

Anyhow, I feel very filled up with neighbourly goodwill this week. Perhaps I am beginning to get the hang of the neighbour thing.

Customer service


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

You will possibly not recall my ongoing engagement with my bank re very hefty charges. I got no reply to my letter of November and reminder of December. I got out the big guns in January and wrote a grand long letter pointing out their obligations under various regulations and guidelines and in particular how they were supposed to get back to me within 5 working days. I was quite pleased with myself.

A couple of days later a very young woman rang me from the bank all apologies for not having replied to my letter. I felt really sorry for her. “It’s terrible, isn’t it?” she said. “I’ve actually had to pay it myself.” I sympathised. “Well, then, bye,” said she and hung up. I feel had but I suppose that is the end of it. Sigh.

Exhausted


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

Leaving the children to study, Mr. Waffle and I spent the long weekend enjoying ourselves on a series of walks which they were, obviously, devastated, to miss.

On Sunday we explored the joys of Howth and Sutton. It’s really close to the city but I felt like I was on holidays, exploring the unknown on my bike by the beach. Recommended.

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Beautiful sunset as well. The picture really doesn’t do it justice.

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We stopped off for a cup of tea in the Marine Hotel in Sutton which is an odd spot. They have very firm rules about when they will serve you. Mr. Waffle who doesn’t really list patience among his many virtues was not delighted to be told to wait outside when there were free tables in the restaurant. We got our tea eventually although it was a long drawn out process. We need an alternative tea venue.

Then on the Monday we went to Wicklow and walked to Lough Dan. It was very beautiful though a long downhill followed, inevitably by a long trek back up. Vigorous.

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Then Mr. Waffle went away for work. He reminded me anxiously of all the things that needed to be done in his absence including bringing in the green bin. When I went out to get it, I discovered that he had in fact brought it in himself before he left. An absence of trust there.

I dropped him to the airport (a – I shouldn’t be surprised but I was – lengthy process) and spent an afternoon running around doing various dull though almost continuous tasks (I cannot wait to step down from the parents council; we are currently at – v polite – war in relation to a proposed new cycle lane outside the school). The next day was the same. In the absence of a maths teacher in school – please do not ask me – the neighbour’s child who is doing a PhD in maths arrived in to give the children a grind. It went alright I think but they are absolutely flattened.

I had lunch with a friend in her house out in the suburbs – a longish cycle it transpires – and as well as lunch she gave me a plant (still alive today) and a clutch of magazines that her Dutch mother-in-law keeps for me on the Dutch royal family (they’re in Dutch, it’s educational). Very thrilling.

I collected Mr. Waffle from the airport at 11 last night and, as I said to him, I have never been gladder to welcome him home. “Imagine,” said he, “if you were working as well.” I am imagining. I suppose I would manage but I would not enjoy it.

It’s mid-term next week, thank God, we all really need a break from school.

Anois Teacht an Earraigh


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

Today is the first day of Spring and my mother’s birthday. I still really miss her, I suppose I always will. She was so full of enthusiasm and joie de vivre and she loved birthdays.

It’s also the feast day of Saint Brigid – Ireland’s female patron saint – and to celebrate the end of Covid, we are having a new permanent holiday on the books on the first Monday of February. My mother would have been delighted. Her grandsons currently sitting their mock Leaving Certificate examinations are also grateful to St Brigid for this relief.

And this is the poem I always think of today. Not a great translation but it gives you the idea.