I was in Armagh the other day and needed to buy paracetamol. I got 16 for 45p. If you are not amazed by this, you do not live in Dublin.
Ireland
Virtuous
Mr. Waffle was in Germany last week and he brought home with him a rather unappetising pretzel. On the strength of this, herself decided that she would like to make some.
So she did.
And they were absolutely delicious.
She also made brownies, flapjacks and fairy cakes for the church garden party. And manned the slushy stall – a more challenging task than you might expect.
A weekend filled with virtue.
Final word to Michael:
Michael: What is all the money raised going to be spent on?
Me: The church roof.
Michael: What, nothing for the poor?
Religious Debate
Princess to Bohemian Friend: Are you Catholic?
Bohemian Friend: Sort of.
Princess: Eh?
Bohemian Friend: Well, we go to the Protestant church because it’s near our house but I still like to pray to Mary.
Protestant Friend: Oh for heaven’s sake make up your mind.
A Weekend of Two Halves
A couple of weeks ago, I took the children to see Derek Landy, author of the popular Skulduggery Pleasant books. Herself read them for the first time a while ago but they have merited re-reading and the boys have been haring through them over the past couple of months.
I was a bit worried that the boys might not enjoy the session [being less patient than their sister] but I needn’t have worried, Derek Landy was fantastic. He spoke for about an hour and had them all in stitches and then stayed patiently signing books and chatting, with every appearance of enthusiasm, to every child in the room.
Buoyed up by this undoubted success, we went to the National Museum on Sunday for a session on Vikings billed as being for “the young and the young at heart”. I now know that this means for ages 3-6. The children were in the centre of the room on the mat and there was no escape. This nice man from New Zealand sang a number of songs of his own devising about the Vikings which the younger children loved. Michael just sat with his head in his hands throughout. Herself and Daniel gamely tried to answer the questions that the songster threw out to the audience about the Vikings. Since they were aimed at 3-6 year olds, my pair obviously knew the answers and their hands went straight up in the air every time. Mr. NZ sang loudly and with enthusiasm. I had a migraine and the headache tablets I had taken before leaving the house were only somewhat effective in countering his efforts.
The only amusing moment was when Mr. NZ said, “Brian Boru beat the Vikings at the Battle of Clontarf, where’s Clontarf?” [Expected answer – Dublin] A three year old with curls stuck up his hand. “It’s on the Northside.”
It’ll be a while before we’re back to the National Museum, I’d say.
Blood and Gore
My loving husband was virtuously cleaning the cooker one morning and managed to give himself a knock on the overhead extractor which led to him bleeding copiously all over the kitchen floor and down the side of his face in a very dramatic manner. The children and I were very alarmed. No more cooker cleaning for him.
In other – admittedly tenuously connected – blood on the kitchen floor stories, the cat caught a blackbird and brought it into the house. A blackbird is quite a big bird to have in the house, particularly when a cat is haring after it in delight. The childminder and the children ran out of the house and shouted at the cat and the bird through the kitchen window with results such as you might expect. The childminder rang Mr. Waffle for directions on opening the kitchen window (trickier than you might think – particularly from outside). The Princess bravely ventured in and scooped up the cat and locked her into Michael’s room to the cat’s intense chagrin. The bird lay behind the kettle with a wing stuck out at an odd angle. The kitchen was plastered with blood and feathers. The childminder and the boys went to inspect the damage and the bird, like something from a creepy horror movie, sprang up on its feet and gave them heart failure. It began to fly again just as Mr. Waffle, feeling that support was needed on the home front, came back so he was able to help usher it out the window. Then he set to clearing up blood and feathers so that by the time I got home from work all that remained was a dramatic story and small feathers which turned up for quite a while in the oddest places. Is he not a saint?
Cat looking as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
Let off the Leash
May 17 was a beautiful day and I noticed (on the way home from a Communion, of course) that there were quite a few families in the small park near our house. Since, it was “Take your children to the park and leave them there” day, I decided when we got home to send the three children off to the park together alone for the first time. They took an unhealthy picnic and off they went for an hour and a half.
They had a great time. Nobody was run over. Nobody was even sunburnt. They reported back that the boys played soccer with some other children; they all rolled down the hill; and herself lay on the picnic mat and read her book. It was delightfully peaceful at home. Do not mock, if your children spend all day on the green and only come in at tea time. I know that you knew this all along.