belgianwaffle

Mr. Waffle

Snow!


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

I woke up on Friday morning to snow. The excitement. The boys had already cycled to school. “Didn’t you offer them a lift?” I said to Mr. Waffle. He pointed out that I was in bed (not typical though I would very much like it to be) and it was only “heavy frost”, not snow.

I cycled into the park to have a look at the “heavy frost”. You be the judge here.

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Between my sore knee and the icy conditions, being in the park was really reminiscent of skiing.

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That afternoon, I took the car out to collect post from the local sorting office. It was cold and I wanted to get turf on the way home so I felt somewhat less bad about taking the car. My local sorting office is in a black hole and I always get lost on the way there. I inadvertently went up a cul de sac where a small child was playing in the snow (heavy frost whatever you’re having yourself) in front of his gate. I turned extremely slowly and carefully. But as I turned my enormous monstrosity which did not slip in the snow, everyone will be glad to hear, I couldn’t help thinking that there would be no danger of my taking out a small child if I had just taken the bike. But then how would I have brought home my turf? Is it madness to think of buying one of those electric cargo bikes?

If you’re thinking it would be more environmentally friendly not to have a turf powered open fire you would be completely right but as someone who finally turned on the Aga the same day, I’m probably beyond reason. God, it is nice and cozy in the cold weather.

Over the weekend we had the lighting up ceremony on the road. We all put out lights in the gardens and then turn them on. Kind humanitarians supply mulled wine and mince pies. It was very pleasant though cold. I used to hate outdoor Christmas decorations but now I love them. Driving to collect the children from school (they got a lift in yesterday, do you think I’m a monster?) , I truly enjoyed some of the more exuberant offerings of our neighbours.

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And then we put up our tree last night.

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And herself is coming home tomorrow after her trip to Berlin to visit a school friend. Hurrah! Here she is in the Alexanderplatz last night channelling her inner babushka.

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It Begins


Posted in: Belgium, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel, Twins, Youngest Child

I am returned from visiting herself in England. A triumphant foreign tour due in no small part to the detailed schedule that herself put in place including making bookings and suggesting outings for her guests. A truly successful formula. As my sister said while we were eating in the v nice restaurant herself had booked us in to – “Finally all those notions you gave her are coming in useful.”

I got back late on December 1 and decided to bow to the inevitable and put up some of the Christmas decorations the following day. In a definite #mymiddleclasshell moment, I couldn’t find the Christmas aga covers which I bought last year but, I am sure you will be delighted to hear, Mr. Waffle found them where I had carefully stowed them away for safekeeping. This is actually very unusual for me. I think possibly due to my poor memory/my parents’ predilection for keeping things in random places (you choose), I am actually very organised with stuff and the sellotape, the keys, the measuring tape, the Christmas decorations, whatever you’re having yourself are always in the same location and findable. But even Homer nods.

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Speaking of the aga, the combination of the mild winter and this truly terrifying graphic in a leaflet from the Government that came through the door, has meant that we haven’t turned it on yet.

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However, I had a triumph with my €60 phone bill which, you may recall, was charged following not using it all on the ferry. I wrote a letter and vodafone refunded. To be fair, I think it is more sharp practice by the ferries than vodafone but I was glad to get the €60 back all the same. The additional money in our pockets and the arrival of the cold weather mean that I plan to fire up the aga this weekend. Anyone who thinks that €60 will go near paying for the aga is very wrong. As a friend of mine says, “You might as well open the oven door and shovel in fivers.” Look, it’s cosy.

Also I have a narky letter with the bank which charged me €60 for three transactions where I tried to pay money out and the recipient couldn’t accept so it bounced back to my account. I mean, firstly, €20 a pop, are you kidding me? Secondly, I already pay pretty hefty annual fees which are to cover all of my transactions. Thirdly, we all hate the banks since they nearly bankrupted the country in 2008. No reply so far, I am even now composing my grumpy follow-up (I at least expected the courtesy of a reply, can I have a copy of your complaints procedure etc? Mr. Waffle said he once sent one of those and was horrified to actually get a copy of the complaints procedure rather than the refund he had been angling for). While we’re on letters, I had a letter in the paper. I’m trying out a pseudonym (my married name which I never use) as I felt the letter was a bit notiony but now I am crushed that no one except Mr. Waffle has noticed my letter and texted me. Mr. Waffle is at an advantage as, obviously, he knows my married name. Also he is used to pseudonyms as his mother used to write to the papers under her maiden name purporting to be from a (completely made up) organisation monitoring local litter levels. This makes her sound crazy and I want to emphasise that this was not the case at all. But still.

In other Christmas prep, I have ordered a turkey. 5 kilos was the smallest available, that’s a kilo of turkey for each family member. An unnerving prospect. We had our Monday night Christmas book club which was absolutely lovely. I think the book club having lasted 20 odd years has survived Covid though it was touch and go there for a while. On December 6, Saint Nicolas, providing the kind of customer service the banks would do well to emulate, turned up for the boys 14 years after they left Belgium.

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I spent today in town Christmas shopping. I am exhausted. My break from work means I am stepping up in the challenging Christmas shopping arena (previously Mr. Waffle’s domain). I am not hugely enjoying it, I will say that.

And tomorrow is December 8, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception and the traditional start of the Christmas shopping season in this jurisdiction. I will be celebrating it by ordering the remainder of my shopping online.

Also, you will be pleased to hear that my knee is recovering. Is your own Christmas prep up and running?

Flying Solo


Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Travel

I’m visiting herself in England for a couple of days. I don’t know when I last flew anywhere alone. My last couple of jobs involved no work travel abroad. So the last time I travelled abroad for work was probably 2015. And when we fly en famille, Mr. Waffle covers all the logistics. So it was with some trepidation that I began my solo adventure.

There was a man on the plane watching something without headphones. How is this acceptable? For the first time there were no masks on the flight. It seemed a bit strange. And finally- they no longer take cash on board. So much for the flight. The journey was entirely uneventful. But long. But then I got to see herself at the end of it. Thrilling. We had a cup of tea.

My sister is also visiting- she was staying with a friend in Sweden and is dropping in on herself on the way home. For reasons I don’t at all understand my sister kept her movements secret until recently and is staying in a different hotel from me. Draw your own conclusions but my paranoid streak is working overtime.

This is a welcome development though because herself has a formal dinner tonight and has booked her mother and aunt into a local restaurant. Thrills. More news as we have it.

Running from Billy to Jack


Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Siblings, Twins, Youngest Child

This morning it lashed rain. In view of climactic conditions, Mr. Waffle drove the boys to school. My brother was staying over and surfaced about 9.30. He looked dolefully at the weather and hopefully at me. “I am going to take the car for a service,” I said firmly so he went off gloomily into the rain to get to his meeting by public transport. I drove the car to the garage. They said it would be ready at 2 which was handy as it meant I could collect the boys from school. I emailed the boys with the glad tidings. I had put my bike in the boot to cycle home. I mean cunning but damp notwithstanding rain gear etc.

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Then I cycled into town to meet a friend for lunch. Then I cycled home again and out to pick up the car. The garage telephoned to say that it wouldn’t be ready until 3.30. I emailed Michael (Dan was in after-school study) to say I’d be a bit late to pick him up. Then as I was nearing the garage they called to say sorry, it wouldn’t be ready until 4.30. I cycled to the school to tell Michael the bad news and offered to take his bag on the bike while he took the bus. At least it was no longer raining. I cycled to the garage with Michael’s school bag in my carrier basket. I picked up the car and drove home. After a quick cup of tea, I was off into traffic again to pick up Daniel at 5.45. I’m exhausted. I think I cycled about 20kms which is a lot for me (although I know there are those who do 50 at the drop of a hat this is, I cannot emphasise this enough, not me).

In entirely unrelated news, Dan’s GAA team ended their championship campaign yesterday. And not in a good way. They had pizza in the club house at 6 that evening. At about 8, Dan rang me to say they were going to the pub and was it ok if he went too. After some humming and hawing we said yes. He seems to have had a great time and, though some of the older boys were drinking, mostly it seems to have been a sober affair and I picked him up from the pub about 9.30 in great form. Apparently he had nothing at all to drink alcoholic or otherwise as he had very little money on him. It doesn’t seem to have bothered him, in fairness. I suppose nightclubs are only round the corner.

Culinary Adventures


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

A quiet day here at the ranch. I am crippled from my wretched knee which is sore standing up and sore sitting down.

The boys went to a college open day under their own steam which they pronounced as fine but a bit dull. They are open day veterans now.

Poor Mr. Waffle has the last two days of this wretched course he’s doing this weekend so he was out at that all day today and will be at it all day tomorrow as well. And he has to turn something around for work on Monday. Grim.

Meanwhile your domestic goddess made a curry recipe from today’s Irish Times for dinner. It was easy and pretty tasty. Score. The accompanying flat bread recipe led to a result for me that was…well not flat anyway.

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On the One Hand, On the Other Hand


Posted in: Family, Mr. Waffle

My Covid wheeze has finally gone (you will recall that I had Covid in June so it’s definitely taken a while). The pretty much constant cold I had for October has cleared up. I can travel outside without a packet of tissues for what feels like the first time in months. I rejoice in my lung and general otorhinolaryngological* health.

However, last week, I hurt my knee. It felt a bit like I’d pulled something. I have no recollection of anything in particular happening and I have been just waiting for it to get better. I thought about getting my skiing knee brace out of the shed but that just seemed defeatist. It hasn’t been improving but until the last couple of days, it hasn’t been getting worse either. However, this morning, I was pushing my bike across the road and had to scurry to get out of the way of an oncoming vehicle. Did my knee like the scurry? It did not. Cycling and walking are both a little bit sore. I was with Mr. Waffle when crossing the road. He has an appointment with the physio for next Tuesday to look at his sore back. It took so long to get the appointment that it is no longer sore, so he offered me the appointment instead. I think I will give it a go. Sigh.

*Many years ago, my father was offered a post working in otorhinolaryngology. He decided not to take it up and sent a telegram, “Regret cannot accept post otorhinolaryngology”. The woman in the post office refused to believe it was a real word and accused him of trying to dodge paying the proper per word fee. And my father’s story is the only reason I know the word but, you must concede, it’s a good word that deserves more publicity.