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Mr. Waffle

Fame!

18 May, 2022 Leave a Comment
Posted in: Boys, Dublin, Ireland, Mr. Waffle

This is the first time this has ever happened to me. I went to a cycle week event at the weekend and one of the marshals came up to me and stuck out his hand and said, “Hi, I read your blog.” The thrill. The next thing he said was, “That guy at work who thinks you look sixty is completely crazy.” That was the right thing to say.

The cycle ride was lovely too. Glorious weather. Loads of small children out on the roads. A feeling of slight smugness. One man had chosen to run beside his four year old. He wasn’t really dressed for it and I don’t think he fully expected the four year old to stay the course but children are full of surprises. And free pancakes at the end.

I couldn’t persuade Mr. Waffle and the boys to come. Too busy at home.

Summer Plans

15 May, 2022 6 Comments
Posted in: Belgium, Boys, Daniel, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel, Work

A couple of years ago, an Italian friend of Mr. Waffle’s asked whether we would be interested in doing an exchange with her nephew in Rome and one of our sons in Dublin. Covid put paid to the original plan but now it is back and Daniel is going to Rome for a week and we’ll have an Italian teenager here.

I was a bit worried about Daniel flying on his own. I anxiously asked him whether he thought he would be ok and he pointed out to me that he had already flown to Paris on his own a number of years ago which, I confess, I had forgotten. He flew as an unaccompanied minor though so was thoughtfully shuttled about by a bored airline employee. Mr. Waffle is adamant that the humiliation of flying aged 16 as an unaccompanied minor (they have to wear a special label around their necks; they are herded together and most of them are under 12) would be the death of Daniel and that he will be perfectly fine on his own. He suggested that if I am concerned I could adopt his own mother’s technique of approaching someone I like the look of in the check-in queue and asking him or her to keep an eye on my child. More mortifying surely? Your views would be welcome on this issue which is the subject of animated domestic discussion. I am forced to point out that Daniel himself thinks he would be fine.

Daniel doesn’t speak any Italian but he is game for the trip to Rome and I do hope he will enjoy it. I lived in Rome for a while in my early 20s and absolutely loved it. I really feel for my children who have had so many of the normal teenage fun things denied to them but have had all of the angst and then some. Michael has astounded me by announcing that he wants to go on a school trip to Brussels to visit the European institutions. Under normal circumstances, he is not one for travel but the lure of a trip to the European institutions was too much for him to resist. I am not even joking.

Last night we told herself that the day she returns from England and Italian teenager will be arriving to stay with us. She is already a bit tetchy in the run up to her exams and I wouldn’t say this piece of information improved her mood. “I wouldn’t have come home at all had I known that there were to be Italian teenage boys or indeed teenage boys of any nationality in the house,” she announced imperiously. As her own brothers who live here are teenage boys that was always a pretty lofty aspiration, nonetheless, my hopes that she might entertain the Italian teenager (who will be 18 in August so possibly a bit old for Dan) were definitely delivered a blow. She’s hoping to go to Paris for a bit of the summer and if she does I fully plan to visit. Let us hope this will be welcome news in due course.

I have had to delay my year of rest and relaxation by a week or so due to an upcoming work crisis which my boss begged me to stay for. I am not immune to flattery (on the contrary) but given that I am counting the days extra time – and stressful extra time at that – seems a bit tedious. I will now be finishing on June 17 and I cannot wait. On the 20th I am off to England to collect herself staying with friends in England en route. I am thrilled.

Supporters’ Club

10 May, 2022 2 Comments
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Michael, Mr. Waffle

Mr. Waffle is a faithful attender at Daniel’s matches. Dan seems to appreciate the support and I think his father quite enjoys watching him play.

On Tuesday evenings Mr. Waffle plays soccer down the road with some other men from work. One Tuesday evening Daniel announced to Michael and myself, “I am going down to the field of dreams.” We were startled and confused. He clarified that he was off to support his father in his Tuesday night kick around. I was quite touched as was his father but it is unclear if the standard of soccer will encourage him to go again.

WB

9 May, 2022 2 Comments
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Mr. Waffle, Siblings

Daniel: We’re doing The Lake Isle of Innisfree in school.

Mr. Waffle [to my sister and her partner who have joined us for dinner]: God, when we went to Sligo last year on holidays, we found Yeats didn’t look much outside there for inspiration. All his poems feature places in Sligo.

My sister’s partner [sotto voce]: Sailing to Byzantium

Long pause

Daniel: Where do you think he left from?

Belated Easter Round Up

30 April, 2022 Leave a Comment
Posted in: Boys, Family, Hodge, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Reading etc.

The boys got Foil Arms and Hogg tickets for Christmas. They went with their father and their sister just before Easter and pronounced it satisfactory.

For Easter Sunday we had extended family round and it was lovely. Sadly my nephew was off in Germany with a friend (I mean not sadly for him but sadly for us as it would have been nice to have had all the cousins together) but otherwise we were all there. As the 11 of us sat down to lunch, herself said, “Have we any bubbles?” “Champagne? No,” I said. “Well even Prosecco or Moscato?” she asked. I would like to say that these are English notions but her paternal grandfather never met a celebration which he felt could not be made better by Prosecco so they are probably home grown notions. She did a great job in prepping the table. She’s quite arty; this did not come from me.

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Dinner – cooked by Mr. Waffle – was reasonably successful although my four year old niece did not eat anything. “You’re not eating,” said Michael anxiously. “Michael, that you of all people should say that…” said her mother. Everyone laughed. Even Michael. He is like his grandmother who really enjoyed small children and was quite fascinated by them. Dinner was a triumph for the cat who after everyone had left the room, leapt up on the table, grabbed the remains of the leg of lamb and made off with it at speed.

There was a rather damp garden Easter egg hunt for my niece. The Easter eggs were small but many and I have never seen her more pleased than when she came in with her bucket of eggs. It was really great to have everyone together again.

The week after Easter, Mr. Waffle and I took ourselves for a walk to Portrane. We went there just as Covid was beginning and it was funny to be there now that it’s – apparently – all over.

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I went to see “The Secrets of Dumbledore”. Absolutely no one in the family could face going with me, so I went on my own. At the start, Dumbledore outlines how to outwit Grindelwald: we need last minute plans, overlapping plans, confusing plans. My heart sank a bit as JK Rowling is a woman who likes a convoluted plot without making it an essential part of the plot if you see what I mean. It was alright actually but I do think the whole thing may be beginning to run out of steam.

Over the holidays I took herself to the dentist and then we bought her a ball dress. It took a lot out of both of us (far more than the dental visit which was benign by comparison). Part of the problem was that with her sylph like figure most things looked good on her and she tried on a lot of things. We bought this dress in the end. She is pleased. I hope she continues to be as she will have to get a lot of wear out of it.

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I have discovered that she has become a coffee drinker. I suppose as addictive habits you pick up in college go, it could be worse. It’s always really sad when she goes back to England. Usually she’s quite perky but she was glum on this occasion – which made it worse – as she had upcoming exams and she had to unpack all her stuff from storage. Both of these weighed pretty heavily on her mind. She has on campus accommodation which I thought was terrific but it comes with the not inconsiderable downside that she has to pack up all her stuff in three large boxes for every holiday. She says third years have it down pat and only bring a t-shirt to college. For English students their parents can drive them up and down and help them with the packing but she has to do it by herself. Last time she grabbed some unfortunate random young man to help with her boxes. “Where are your parents?” he asked. “They’re not here,” she said (with a touch of bitterness, I’d say). He thought that her parents were dead and was both mortified and sympathetic until the boxes were moved and the matter was cleared up. I am beginning to realise that from now on holidays will be bookended by happy arrivals and gloomy departures. Oh well.

I trust your own Easter was satisfactory.

Post

15 April, 2022 5 Comments
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.

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