belgianwaffle

Mr. Waffle

It’s a hobby


Posted in: Mr. Waffle

Me (looking up from typing): We get so little time together without the children.

Him (looking up from the paper): Hmm.

Me: Do you mind that I seem to spend most of it playing with my blog?

Him: No.

Me: Do you think I’m obsessed?

Him: No, it’s a hobby.

I’m very relieved. So, as part of my hobby, I intend to participate in National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo) as suggested by Mrs. Kennedy. I will post every day for the month of November. Go on, admit it, you’re delighted. No sarcasm, please. In the spirit of the event I have decided that I will go through my bloglines blog roll and talk about each of the blogs I read two by two. I know, you’re looking forward to it already.

Here we go with the first two:

ex20six is my first category. 20six was my first internet home and I loved it but it revamped and I left in a huff and so did some others.

Bobble

Bobble is a photographer. Her photos would pin your ears back. They are spectacular. Her blog is an insight into a sophisticated London world of banking, post office fraud (not by her, you understand) and mature students.

Let there be another leaf

Marvellous Norah. The woman who made dull office working into art. Funny art. She is a mother now and not working in an office. This is good. It has cut down on her posting. This is bad. But it looks to me like she’s gearing up to get going again.

Monday night is quiz night


Posted in: Mr. Waffle

First, Mastermind. That guy, John Humphreys is dreadful at it. I’m not sure whose idea it was to have a little banter between quizzer and quizee after the specialist and before the general knowledge rounds but it leads to dreadful results. If say, the specialised subject were “Stalin and the gulags”, John Humphreys would probably begin by saying “Stalin, not a nice chap then?”
And then, University Challenge.

Art round

Him: Oh, it’s that guy, geometric shapes, whatchamacallhim.
Me: Albers?
Him: No, no the Garnier logo.
Me: Ah, Mondrian.

The Grammar Diet


Posted in: Mr. Waffle

Mr. Waffle: It must be time for dinner.

Me: I think it must be; I’m starving, myself.

Him: Am I married to Posh Spice?

Me: No, I’m starving, comma, myself.

The most powerful women in the world


Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Reading etc.

From: Mrs. Waffle
To: Her loving husband
Subject: Mary McAleese comes in at 55

Merkel beats Rice as world’s most powerful woman

German chancellor Angela Merkel has come top in a Forbes magazine list of the world’s most powerful women, beating US secretary Condoleezza Rice despite Berlin‘s first lady not even featuring in the 2005 ratings.

http://euobserver.com/9/22313/?rk=1

From: Mr. Waffle
To: His loving wife
Subject: RE: McAleese comes in at 55

And Dooce?

How was your weekend?


Posted in: Family, Mr. Waffle

Dinner on Friday was delightful.  Because he loves me and, clearly, we are made of money, Mr. Waffle had tried to book Comme Chez Soi (much posher and more exclusive than its, frankly alarming, website makes it seem) but it was closed for the holidays – as he pointed out, July 28th is a great day to get married but not a fantastic date for restaurant reservations.  Fortunately, Brussels abounds in opportunities to spend all your money on excellent food and he opted for L’Ecailler du Palais Royal  where we lowered the average age in the restaurant considerably, which, let’s face it, doesn’t happen to us so much any more, and were the only people there who a) were not Belgian and b) did not have fat bank accounts in Luxembourg.  The food was fabulous and we had a delightful evening even allowing for a little embarrassment about the bill.  It’s hard to know who was more embarrassed, Mr. Waffle for pointing out that they had inadvertently charged €111 euros rather than 11 for my dessert or the waiter who was absolutely mortified and entered into detailed explanations about how their bill totter had knocked off for the night and someone else was adding up etc. etc.

It was as well that we had a lovely evening on Friday, because we needed that rosy glow to sustain us over the weekend.  Daniel was awake all Saturday night with a temperature (cheering thought – start of chicken pox perhaps?).  Michael was awake all Sunday night for the hell of it.  The Princess wet the bed on Saturday and Sunday night (having been accident free for weeks) and refused to nap on Sunday when we really, really needed her to have a nap.  And Bill Gates is torturing us.  His latest update says that we may be a victim of illegal counterfeiting. We are not.  Our installation disk, however, which will allow Bill to check that this is really the case, in 14 simple steps, is in the cellar under mounds of baby rubbish. Bill will not let us deinstall our latest update and nor will he stop annoying us with little windows telling us that we may be victims of fraud. I suppose we’ll have to set aside a couple of hours to dig out his bloody disk.  Time when we could be SLEEPING.

And I am seriously beginning to wonder whether exhaustion is making me lose my mind.  I cannot remember anything for more than two seconds.  Sample conversation with my spouse:

Him (to Michael): Voilà un beau papillon.

Me (a little later): Michael has dropped the whatchamacallit.

Him (tending to Daniel): Eh?

Me (tending to Princess): Can you give Michael the yokeemebob, the er, the umbrella.

Him: What?

Me: It’s all your fault you said papillon and that made me think of parapluie and that made me think of umbrella.

Him: Do you want me to give Michael back the butterfly?

At least the weather has broken.

My perfect husband


Posted in: Mr. Waffle

Him: Are you tired?

Me: Yes.

Him: Fed up?

Me: Yes.

Him: Did you know that today is our fifth wedding anniversary?

Me: Oh God, I forgot.

Him: I have booked a babysitter and dinner.