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Words are the Daughters of Earth, but Objects are the Sons of Heaven

2 May, 2022 6 Comments
Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland, Siblings

I was in Cork over the weekend a couple of weeks ago. My brother announced that he had thrown out a couple of books from my parents’ house. “You shouldn’t have done that, I might have wanted them!” I cried. “Well,” he said, “You’ll just have to manage without Common Household Insects and Pests“.

My sister and I spent hours clearing out my mother’s wardrobe; you will recall that my mother died in June 2019 so this was overdue. It took a lot out of both of us.

The clothes were ok actually though why I thought that I would fit into a size 10 jacket – which I have now donated to herself – is beyond me. We found an enormous number of kid gloves in yellowish white all of which I have given to herself in the – possibly forlorn – hope that she will find these vintage items of interest.

There were furs which had belonged to both my grandmothers. In surprisingly good nick but, I don’t know, fashion may have moved on. Mr. Waffle believes there is something distinctly disturbing about the little paws on this scarf (intertwined dead rodents is how he describes the whole), hard to disagree. These were standard issue for everyone’s granny when I was a child but not so much anymore.

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Herself says her fellow students are always leaving unlikely things at nightclubs and posting distraught messages to social media saying things like “I lost my Great Aunt Edith’s pearls at Wild Nights, has anyone seen them? My parents are very cross.” I can’t help feeling that her great grandmothers’ furs are more unlikely lost items than most and she might enjoy having them.

The wardrobe also contained a mountain of papers, most of which we threw out: old theatre programmes; dinner menus; conference programmes; receipts; hand made cards; bafflingly, an entire Cork Examiner from December 1985 kept for no discernible reason; photographs; a letter from my father from London; chequebook stubs; and postcards.

I kept a description of the dying days of our cat written by my mother which was surprisingly emotional for a hard headed farmer’s daughter. I also kept her insurance book issued from when she went to Freiburg as a postgraduate student in the 50s.

There were some lovely photos of her time as an international student in Freiburg as well as some from her graduation and UCC balls. We kept all the photos, of course and also all of her out of date passports.

I wonder where the people in this photo are now? My mother is in the middle of the front row. If you know any international students who spent 1957/58 in Freiburg, get in touch!

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I kept three of her old cheque books from the 60s. Many of the stubs were not filled in – I regret to say an abiding failure of hers. There was one though for £600 to a garage in Farnborough and I think that must have been for her beloved mini cooper. I kept one of my homemade cards – there were many but I remembered the pain associated with creating this particularly elaborate one. There was a German calendar for 1958 and some unused postcards from Copenhagen, I kept those too.

There was what I can only assume was an unopened wedding present from 1967. We used them for breakfast the other morning. Good to see them getting a trip out after a wait of 54 and a half years.

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It’s funny how few things remain of a whole life time, a whole beloved person; and I am conscious, not necessarily the things she would have chosen to have kept or be remembered by. That’s how it goes, I guess.

Post

15 April, 2022
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings

During the week I got a blank postcard with my name and address on one side and a picture of Costa Rica on the back. I was quite baffled. Conversation with my sister revealed the following:

  • She bought a postcard for me and addressed it when she was in Costa Rica in 2013.
  • She never sent it.
  • She brought it home.
  • Her partner’s mother has a friend who likes to send postcards of places he has never been.
  • My sister posted a lot of blank postcards to her
  • The envelope opened in the post box.
  • The post office dutifully delivered the unstamped blank post card to me.

Not vintage content, I would concede, but there it is, this week’s postal mystery unravelled.

Separately, the census enumerator collected the census form. I had dutifully divided the time capsule bit at the back into 5 for us all to fill in a bit. It was on the hall table for herself to add her bit but, alas, she had not done so by the time the enumerator came. I wanted to take a photo of the time capsule as well for…um, not posterity, for me I suppose but it was not to be. I put in as much as I could about family history (I bitterly resent that empty fifth as I had much more to say but there you go); Mr. Waffle put in a bit about us and our cat; Michael hoped that there were people to read it; and Daniel put in a line from a song. I do hope we get to do it again next census.

Matters Ukrainian

13 April, 2022
Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

We now have 4 Ukrainian families living on our road. Herself met young Master Next Door in the course of her gallivanting and he tells her that they too have taken in what he rather sweetly called “Ukrainian guests”. Apparently they all gather gloomily in the converted shed in one of the houses up the road and listen to the news from Ukraine. It’s extremely grim. I am slightly in awe of my neighbours who spearheaded this. As well as putting up their own refugees, they are gathering up old laptops, ware, cutlery and pots and pans for Ukrainian families as well as trying to source more permanent accommodation and schools and everything else. Mr. Waffle dropped off our old bikes to a man in town who is reconditioning them for Ukrainian refugees. It is nice to feel that you are doing something, however small, but it’s only a drop in the ocean.

Networking Lunch

11 April, 2022
Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Work

I had lunch with a former colleague of mine during the week. “Look at this,” said she and hauled out a letter informing her that she is going to be made a Chevalier of the Légion d’Honneur. I was suitably impressed. I also had lunch with an old friend who has decided to abandon retirement to head up an august (though small) body. I feel the quality of my lunch dates at the moment is high.

Tempus Fugit

30 March, 2022
Posted in: Cork, Ireland, Work

I remember when I was an apprentice solicitor (neither today nor yesterday, my friends) one of my other apprentice friends met her master’s children when they were brought into the office for a thrilling look at the office machinery and to see where their Mum and Dad worked.

“Imagine,” said my friend to me, “they will just grow up with the fax, it will never seem strange or new to them.” We marvelled. It did not cross our minds that by the time those children were pushing 40 the fax would be a thing of the past. I remember one of the partners in my office had a computer on his desk and was gently mocked by the other partners for his dedication to this glorified typewriter which took up so much space on his desk and was clearly pointless.

But yet, the 90s doesn’t really seem very long ago at all. Related: have you noticed that the policemen really are getting younger?

Property Ladder

29 March, 2022
Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Work

A younger colleague of mine told me that she has bought a house. She is in her late 20s and has been living at home with her parents since leaving school and saving diligently. I mean I applaud her and I’m delighted for her and it is always hard to buy on your own (as opposed to with a partner), but I can’t help comparing it to my own experience. I thought it was pretty hard at the time but really it was easy for me to move out of home and rents were pretty cheap and there were lots of places where I could rent and still save up a bit (if only I had been more frugal – it was not my nature, good job I met Mr. Waffle saver by nature). I’m not sure I would really have wanted to live at home until I was 30 and I didn’t have to.

She is the only colleague I know under 30 who has bought her own house. It does not augur well, I feel. I do wonder how my children are going to find somewhere to live in due course if things keep going as they are. I suppose we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

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