Princess

Plague Diary – Part XII

5 June, 2020 Leave a Comment
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Dublin, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Work

Monday, May 25, 2020

We have no real engagements in our private life any more. This is what the family google calendar looks like now.

We contacted the orthodontist (herself is still miserable with the snapped brace) and she has an appointment for mid-June so that’s something I suppose.

I rang the council to ask about the tennis courts and spoke to a very nice man who said he was only a lowly functionary but the “higher ups” were concerned as council courts and golf clubs couldn’t reopen as, unlike private clubs, they couldn’t guarantee the disinfectant and social distancing required. At least I know why now. I enjoyed the frank exposition of the position which makes sense, I suppose but it does seem a pity. I might see whether I can rejoin the tennis club if this goes on much longer.

Herself continued her examinations. Her maths teacher, in what can only be called an excess of dedication/sadistic exercise, set each child a different paper based on his or her weaknesses. I understand it was in part due to a desire to limit opportunities for, ahem, teamwork. She said it was alright.

Daniel and Michael cycled into school to pick up their stuff from their lockers. We’re a bit unclear about what they are going to do now that they are on holidays and don’t want them to spend every waking hour online. In a non-synchronised effort which could have done with a little more preparation, I told them that they couldn’t play on any electronic devices in the afternoon and Mr. Waffle told them no devices in the morning. The difficulty only emerged at lunch time and we were merciful and let them on devices in the afternoon. What are we going to do all summer?

I had my online book club in the evening and work proceeded on the jigsaw.

No corona virus deaths announced today which must surely be a good sign. I feel filled with, perhaps unwarranted, optimism.

Tuesday, May 26, 2020

I got a mystery bill (by letter) for €2.14 from UPS. I have never had an account with them as far as I know. But it seems an odd amount to try to scam from me. I have sent them an email querying it but I am half inclined to pay it as I am weak and feeble and it is only €2.14.

Herself had her German exam which she said was fine. “Fine” is possibly the most overused word in describing school work and exams to parents. She is busy editing an online quarantine magazine put together with her friends.

The boys are at a bit of a loose end. Related: we finished another jigsaw.

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

Mr. Waffle made sourdough. While it rose a bit more than previous attempts, I am afraid it cannot be called a complete success. Sourdough is a cruel mistress. He also bought croissants for breakfast. Complete success there.

Herself had her applied maths exam. It was hard going. She informed us dolefully that the teacher had said there would be some easy questions and some hard ones and she couldn’t tell which were which. Oh dear.

With the return of outdoor workers, we got a man in to fix the basket ball hoop. Rejoicing.

The cat was going crazy this morning trying to get into the oven. File footage of the cat going crazy:

We ignored it as best we might looking nervously at the unremovable fitted kitchen which surrounded the oven.

I missed lunch due to work issues. Bitter.

At about 5.15 as I was toiling over a hot laptop, I heard a commotion outside. Daniel had kicked a ball through the shed window and the basketball into the next door neighbour’s garden. I texted the neighbours who dutifully tossed back the ball; Michael and I went to sweep up the glass in the shed while Daniel had a restorative bowl of cereal (recovering from the shock of it not being a catastrophic pane of glass to break – level of parental ire: mild).

When I got back to the kitchen, Daniel was pointing at the oven in horror, “There’s a noise, behind the oven.” There was, kind of a fluttery sound, could it be a bird? The unit around the oven is sealed and although there is a small hole at the top, how could a bird have got in? Mr. Waffle said bracingly that it probably flew in the back door but Occam’s razor suggests that it was not a bird that had got in there but something much more sinister.

Aside here on rats and mice. A colleague told me he was bringing up tea to his wife on Saturday morning and thought he saw movement in the bed while she was in the bathroom but said nothing. When she got back into bed, she thought she felt a mild muscle spasm in her leg but didn’t investigate. When she got up to make the bed she found a small dead mouse in the bed. Great unhappiness. The working theory is that she squashed it when she got back into bed. Then another friend of mine had rats under the decking (classic) and called in Rentokil. They told her that, with the lock down, restaurants were largely closed and not only was the usual food supply not there but in normal times restaurants are constantly putting down poison to ensure that vermin are rigorously excluded from their premises but, obviously, not now. So there’s an uptick in rats etc. Good news.

Anyhow, there were myself and Daniel staring horror struck at the oven when Mr. Waffle arrived in to say that Daniel had a zoom training session at 5.30. I undertook to do training, if he would deal with the noise. I did training. Daniel did 800 reps in 45 minutes. I didn’t even know what a rep was before this (it’s one exercise, like a push up or whatever). Those teenage GAA players are the fittest people you will ever meet. Did Mr. Waffle get out our (best case scenario) trapped bird? He did not. I finished work. We went for a long walk. When we came back we heard a scrabbling noise behind the oven. I mean now we appeared to be moving to best case scenario dead bird behind the cooker. My sister suggested we might sprinkle lime behind the cooker. Dear God. I think we might have to get the basketball hoop handyman back to extract the oven and peer behind.

After dinner herself went to her room to recover from the undoubted traumas of the day. Mr. Waffle, the boys and I played an extremely competitive variant of happy families.

Thursday, May 28, 2020

I woke up at 3 in the morning with a sore finger from where I got a thorn in it at the weekend. Early start to the day with a tweezers and needle. Not recommended.

The cat was indifferent to the oven. There were no more noises. Mr. Waffle is inclined to ignore the problems, sweep them behind the oven, if you will but I continue to be…concerned. Herself, who sleeps over the kitchen, announced that she heard a fluttering noise under her floorboards overnight.

The boys made lunch and herself made dinner. I began to realise that just because I now work at the desk where previously I sat to do domestic admin does not mean that I can complete all of my domestic admin and my work admin in the space of the working day notwithstanding the fact that I am now have no commuting time. I am also increasingly realising that talking to people at work about non-work things helps work to work and it is hard to replace with video conferencing.

Friday, May 29, 2020

Rejoice for the bank holiday weekend and glorious weather. We got a nice bread delivery. It was the last day of school and exams for herself and she celebrated by going for a picnic with friends in the park. She hasn’t been sunburnt for years as she is assiduous about covering herself up and putting on suncream but she missed a large swathe of her back and was burnt to a frazzle.

The boys were also enjoying their new found freedom to meet friends on a socially distanced basis outside and met friends in the park for what they assure me was a very successful dungeons and dragons session.

Mr. Waffle and I went for a middle aged but delightful stroll around the botanic gardens.

We had a barbecue for dinner and afterwards had “Seven Psychopaths” for our Friday evening film. I wouldn’t have chosen it myself but not bad. Colin Farrell was excellent. Half way through, one of the children said, “Hang on, is he Irish?” Yes, my cherubim, he is.

Daniel said excitedly that it had been his busiest day since lock down started : French class in the morning (still ongoing despite protests), Dungeons and Dragons in the afternoon and barbecue and film in the evening. The poor child.

Saturday, 30 May, 2020

I was up bright and early to film Dan for his GAA zoom training session. I picked all my peonies as peonies are not consistent with GAA training.

Mr. Waffle and I cycled to the village 5 kms away which I used to find utterly charming and delightful but now is palling slightly.

Cow parsley was growing in great profusion along the river banks. I find myself in some difficulty with cow parsley. In the interior design focussed, occasionally twee and whimsical, corner of instagram I now inhabit (having abandoned twitter as too vicious), people love cow parsley, my God, they love it. Now my mother was a farmer’s daughter, my grandfather and uncle were farmers and a number of my cousins are farmers. I will tell you this, farmers are not taken with cow parsley, they do not see its interior decorating charm and we grew up being told it smelled of cow urine. I can’t say whether this is accurate as, being a city girl myself, my experience of cows is not extensive, but yet, I cannot love cow parsley and pick it in great photogenic armfuls to sit in my bike basket. Too many of my relatives, alive and dead, would snigger at me. Maybe next year.

We dutifully hosted the online quiz which we won last week. It’s more fun guessing than asking the questions. I did enjoy reading the quotes for the poetry round though.

Sunday, May 31, 2020

I got up late which is something I really quite enjoy and don’t get to do very often. We dutifully completed the cleaning rota now in its tenth week (sigh). I had my Sunday book club (not to be confused with my Monday book club) which I hadn’t had for four weeks. We are hoping for a real, non-virtual one in July. Do I indulge optimism too far?

We cycled to the seaside and had chips on the seafront as a bank holiday treat. I’ve had worse. Herself announced, “I have yet again inadvertently swallowed an elastic.” Upon observing tactless laughter, she added bitterly, “Oh yes, serving up orthodontic humour since 2018.”

My father went back into hospital (small private not large acute, but still unsatisfactory). I feel strong regret that I did not drive down to Cork to see him while he was at home. There is zero chance they will let me in to the hospital. As soon as he gets out, I will hotfoot it to Cork with my letter from his GP saying he is very sick and hope to be let through by the Guards. My father’s alright, I think, as in not going to die immediately, but frail and 95 and in hospital so not, you know, great.

Monday, June 1, 2020

I brought out the paddling pool. Mr. Waffle mocked me but we all ended up paddling, so there. We spent all day in the back garden in glorious sunshine. Herself went to meet friends for a picnic in the botanic gardens. Mr. Waffle said that he liked how our lives are less frantic at the moment. I know what he means a bit. We were always squeezing things in and running to training or to meetings (residents’ committee, parents’ committee, you name it) after work but I don’t quite see how we will preserve this post lock down.

Back off on my bicycle to the village 5 km away. Honestly, I’m beginning to think it will be too soon, if I never go there again.

Tuesday, June 2, 2020

This was my first day off work in the new dispensation. I struggled a little bit to know what to do with a day’s holiday. It was a beautiul day but I didn’t quite know what might be different or novel or a treat. I felt the boys needed a bit of exercise so we cycled to the botanic gardens again. They were less than entranced.

It was warm and sunny and not bad but just a bit…repetitive. My day’s triumph was making homemade lemonade which was very nice indeed. We take our thrills where we can.

Wednesday, June 3, 2020

I paid for my day off and was pretty busy at work. I am sick of video conference calls. My sister, who has worked for large multinational companies since leaving college, has been managing remote teams for years and I sense that she is mildly smug as the rest of us struggle with the new dispensation.

My father has been diagnosed with a new illness to add to the long list he has already. As my sister says, it’s chronic which means you can have it for a long time, but still, not maybe a great sign. No word on when he will be let out of hospital.

Daniel had training at 5.30. I have been doing the zooming with him but a work crisis meant I was chained to my laptop so Mr. Waffle took over. Daniel deemed him unsatisfactory: he did not explain the exercises; he failed to count Daniel’s reps (hark at me); he kept saying Daniel should give up if he was tired (Mr. Waffle does not have the same puritanical streak as me); and, worst of all, his phone ran out of battery ten minutes before the end and herself had to be deployed to put an extension lead out the utility room window. Unfortunately, there’s a bit of a knack to the window and herself hasn’t got it so that led to further delay and unhappiness. I have a friend who says that when people say that “there’s a bit of a knack to it” they really just mean, “it’s broken”. This is, arguably, true.

At the start of the lockdown, I commissioned an artist whose stuff I had seen on instagram to paint a portrait of the children. It seemed like a nice thing to do. I sent her loads of photos of the kids so even though she couldn’t see them, she knew what they looked like and she felt it would work ok. Yesterday she sent me a picture of the picture which I will be picking up next week. When I signed the contract with her it provided that she retained the copyright (standard, apparently) and I was sad but now that I have seen it, I will never want to show it anywhere, so that’s ok. I’m not quite sure what went wrong. I saw her other stuff and liked it. But this picture, oh dear. Actually Daniel is ok but Michael looks manic and, as my sister said, herself looks ok but just 30 years older than she actually is. Alas, an expensive and ultimately unsatisfactory experiment. Look, at least I will be spared framing costs. And on the plus side my (not at all expensive when compared to the cost of commissioning a picture) new oven gloves from Marimekko arrived and I love them. I got a pair previously as a present and I can really recommend them: stylish yet practical. It has come to this.

Thursday, June 4, 2020

Another busy day in the salt mines. Herself made an extraordinarily elaborate dinner which was very nice on two counts: firstly, it was very nice and, secondly, I didn’t have to cook it. She was chopping and dicing from lunchtime onwards.

She called it East, East, East, East fusion: gyoza from Japan, spring rolls from China, saffron rice and carmelised lettuce from, maybe, Iran (I forget) and vereniki from Eastern Europe (generally rather than a specific local recipe). As Mr. Waffle said, “At least we won’t have to worry that she won’t be able to feed herself when she leaves home.” There was lemon sorbet and raspberry sorbet with chocolate sauce for dessert but I haven’t got any pictures.

My brother has a new job in Dublin. Theoretically at least. He won’t actually be let into his new office until autumn at the earliest, I’d say so he’ll be based in Cork for a while yet. He is pleased. We are pleased that he will be in Dublin. I’m a bit worried about my sister alone in Cork minding elderly relatives but she seemed sanguine when I spoke to her.

Also, it’s been a week since the fluttery noise. No update. Ominous.

Plague Diary – Part XI

25 May, 2020 4 Comments
Posted in: Belgium, Boys, Daniel, Dublin, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess

Sunday, May 17, 2020

A quiet day. We have broken out the jigsaws at last.

Cleaning rota was implemented as usual. I still feel astonished that this is working some seven weeks in.

Mr. Waffle and I went walking around our area again. We went to a depressed, miserable estate. It’s only a stone’s throw from the very nice estate we walked around last week. The houses are also Victorian and bigger (three stories rather than two) but it is not a pleasant spot. One of the houses is boarded up. The front gardens are unloved and there are no trees or other greenery on the street. Many of the houses are divided into grotty looking flats and bedsits. It’s a mystery why this should be so unattractive and the other estate so nice. It’s also off the main road and, obviously, adjacent to all the same amenities and the houses are bigger so, presumably, better for families but yet, it looks like it’s had almost a century of neglect whereas the neighbouring estate looks like it has had a century of love and affection and you can really tell the difference.

I retired to my bed at 8 in the evening with a nasty headache. Poor me.

Monday, May 18, 2020

I woke up completely recovered. We were all up at the crack of dawn as the boys are doing online exams this week.

My father called me which was exciting. Sadly, he couldn’t hear me at all. It made me so sad. I think he is really lonely and bored and, to be honest, quite unwell and I am afraid that he is going to keel over before I have a chance to talk to him properly again. I don’t know whether to go and visit or not. I mean, it would be just great if I came from Covid ridden Leinster and gave it to my father in Cork. There is absolutely no point in my going and waving from outside the window as he wouldn’t be able to see and hear me. I need to be a metre from him and bellowing to have a conversation.

Herself got a lovely message from her German teacher which perked her up; she’s recorded a video for her project work and the German teacher liked it which was good because she put in an awful lot of work on it. The boys had Irish and maths exams online this morning. Daniel found maths easy and Irish hard and Michael the reverse. A suggestion that they might compare their answers and learn from each other was met with a distinct absence of enthusiasm.

We were going to meet friends for a walk this evening to celebrate the beginning of phase 1 of the end of lock down (up to four people from different households can meet outside maintaining social distancing) but the weather is inclement and we’ve deferred it to tomorrow.

I had my online bookclub and we were a slightly gloomy group. The novelty has truly worn off. Still, things are improving. Slowly.

I stayed up until all hours on my phone. A slight regression caused by not putting it safely in the hall before dinner and ignoring it for the remainder of the evening. I am largely on the wagon again but this was a lapse. Alas.

Tuesday, May 19, 2020

All the climbing roses around the front door have come out and when you step out there is a beautiful smell of roses which I don’t think I ever noticed before [insert your own jaded thoughts about slowing down and smelling the flowers here].

Daniel’s year head got in touch with me to tell me that he had not submitted his maths test from yesterday. When he finished his morning’s testing, I enquired. He had failed to press send on the google form but, happily, he had his rough work and was able to re-submit.

Herself went into school to empty her locker on a socially distanced timetable.

After work, Mr. Waffle and I met friends for a sunny and socially distanced walk. It was really lovely. In person is 1000 times better than by vc.

Having cast my phone from me early in the evening, I dutifully went early to bed and felt smugly virtuous.

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

I was up at the crack of dawn (8.00) to go to our local hipster cafe for take away fancy bread for breakfast. It was, disappointingly, only alright.

The boys continued their online exams. Some seem very speedy and easy with 20/30 multiple choice questions but some are hard and long (history, for example). They finished their 2 hour science exam in about half an hour and assured me they had checked their answers twice so I sent them off to the local courts for a game of tennis. However, despite tennis courts and golf clubs having reopened on Monday, it appears public courts are not. Alas.

I got a parcel from a lovely shop in Leap which I saw referred to on instagram. The parcel was satisfactory – candles and writing paper (neither of which I would call a need, as such but definitely nice to have) – and I will give them a plug here for all your nice things needs (no free goods were given in exchange for this post, regrettably). The shop is called the Old Mill Stores and I desperately want their laundry thing that you hang from the ceiling. Our utility room ceiling is the old scullery and the ceiling slopes. I emailed to ask whether they thought it would work. They replied with commendable speed and said that they thought yes but I should check with a local handyman perhaps. Mr. Waffle who, you will recall, has established his temporary office in the utility room was a bit unsure about having a cast iron structure above his head. Particularly if it were installed by either of us. The Princess has taken to calling the device “the widow maker” so with one thing and another I’m holding off for the meanwhile but feel free to go for it yourself.

The weather was so nice that I decided we should have a barbecue and I went up to the butcher to buy necessary material. It felt like traffic was back to pre-Covid levels, I must say. I’m a bit worried we’ll be going backwards soon.

We ceremoniously turned off the Aga, it was just too warm. I will miss my environmental crime scene over the summer months. I have to say, it’s really come into its own during lock down – it’s very cozy when you’re home full time and who doesn’t need three ovens?

Herself met her friends in the park for a socially distanced walk which was fine but, I think probably not as exciting as she had been hoping. The 2 metres is a bit miserable for everyone but children and teenagers in particular, I think.

Mr. Waffle and I went for a mild walk in the, very warm, evening sunshine and then we had our barbecue in the garden which was lovely. Though the barbecue probably needs a wash (I assured them that all of the germs inside the barbecue were dealt with by the heat – hoping for the best here). Another exciting lock down project.

Thursday, 21 May, 2020

We woke up to no wifi and when you have two people doing online exams, two people doing online work and one person doing online school, that’s a bit of a disaster. Happily it came back at 8.55 but it was on and off all day which was very tense making.

The boys had their German exam. Daniel decided to try the French exam as well on a “why not?” basis. Michael decided that there were lots of reasons why not and didn’t bother. Later in the day, Dan had his business exam. I asked him to show me his French paper and in doing so he inadvertently deleted his business exam and had to start again. This online examination system needs some work.

Herself arrived down to breakfast with a heart tattoo on her chest and I nearly had heart failure before having had time to reflect that there was nowhere to get tattooed and being reassured that it was a temporary tattoo. It took a lot out of me.

As I was finishing work for the day, the phone rang from an unknown number. It was IPSOS/MRBI polling about public health. Lads, I love a survey. I always answer surveys. I’ve never met a survey I didn’t like. For years I have been looking at IPSOS surveys in the paper wondering bitterly why I have never been surveyed. I was delighted. The conversation went as follows:

Her: Would you be prepared to take a call from IPSOS/MRBI?

Me: Yes, very much so, I would love to, I’ve been waiting for this moment for 51 years.

Her (laughing): OK, your data will be anonymised, you won’t be identifiable, GDPR, call recorded etc. etc.

Me: Fine, fine, I’m ready.

Her: Do you have anyone between 15-34 living in the house?

Me: Yes, my daughter is 17.

Her: Do you think she’d be prepared to take the survey, it’s very hard to get people between 15 and 34.

Me: Yeah, I’d say she would. I’ll ask her. [Talk to herself, yes, back to pollster]. Yes, she’ll do it.

Pollster: You’re going to hate me.

Me: What, you’re going to survey her instead of me??

Her: Um, yes, I’m afraid so.

Bitter isn’t the word for me. Herself, myself and Mr. Waffle went out for a walk afterwards and she told us about the questions. Lots about the nation’s reaction to coronavirus and who we trust the most. She spent the rest of the evening prefacing her views with “Nation’s representative 17 year old about to speak”. Bitter.

On the plus side, I was out in the front garden cutting some roses for the house and a lovely young person passing by said, “You have a beautiful garden.” Of course, credit goes entirely to the people who lived here before us but I was pleased all the same.

Friday, 22 May, 2020

The boys did their last online exam and are finished school for the year. It was lovely to see them so genuinely delighted. Mr. Waffle had bought them a new game for the x-box and we let them play it together (it’s quite an innocent thing about preparing food in a restaurant with cartoons and we were rather touched as we’d been quite prepared to pay for the more standard shoot-em-up offering).

Meanwhile, herself started her exams which seemed tough enough. Three hours of English. She hates Paul Durcan, I’m afraid.

I had a coffee break with a friend based in Brussels. We would never have done this in peace time but I must say, it was quite satisfactory in its way. VC is better than a phone call. Begium is further along in its re-opening than Ireland and she told me that she and her husband were getting the tram into town that afternoon to go to the gallery on a socially distanced pre-booked visit. I nearly expired from envy.

My afternoon off was not what it might have been due to a number of work queries. One of which came as I closed the boot of the car (first vehicular outing in many weeks) and due to distraction, I brought it down on my poor daughter’s head. She has a bruise the size of a duck egg.

Mr. Waffle took the boys out with a kite as it was windy. Some success. The wind also brought down the climbing roses at the front of the house so I spent some time with twine and nails pinning it back. It fought back and I may have permanently embedded a number of thorns in my person.

We watched “The Social Network” for our film. Not a bad choice but three of us had already seen it. I was amazed to discover that none of my children had heard of Napster.

Saturday, May 23, 2020

I was up bright and early. Dan had a training session via zoom. I sat in the back garden in the rain holding my phone. Better than doing the plank, I suppose.

I tried out the new x-box game we bought for the boys. Very wholesome but still too hard for me.

Mr. Waffle and I cycled in to town in the rain. Town was busy enough. We tested out the new cycle infrastructure. It’s a start. Better than it was but not reaching the lofty heights of “good”. We walked around Stephen’s Green in the rain.

We wondered, as never before, about whether the sculptors of the statuary in the Green would entirely approve of the gardeners’ placing of pots of geraniums. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that they probably don’t enhance the vision the sculptors had for, respectively, a famine group and Robert Emmet.

We had a zoom quiz night organised by my friend. We won. As ever, first prize, organising next weekend’s quiz night.

Sunday, May 24, 2020

My sister tells me that my brother has spent all weekend at his tennis club rejoicing at the re-opening of the courts. I note that the public courts in the park up the road from me still haven’t re-opened. This seems a pity. I am regretting letting my tennis club membership slide.

Yet again, the cleaning rota went off without a hitch. Miraculous. Entropy is against us and it will all be to do again next week. Sigh.

I met a colleague in the park for a socially distanced work gossip which we both enjoyed very much.

Daniel, Michael and I cycled 10 kms (5 out, 5 back) to look at the sea. Although the weather was beautiful, we were all a little grumpy. I met a former book club member on our cycle and could not remember her name although she clearly knew mine. Alas.

We started another jigsaw. I stayed up until all hours working away. Alas.

It’s all go here, how are things in your own Corona virus location?

Plague Diary – Part X

11 May, 2020 3 Comments
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Family, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess

Sunday, May 10, 2020

I had a cold shower again. Just not a delightful start to the day. It was cold and overcast.

We cleaned in accordance with the cleaning rota which is succeeding beyond my wildest dreams. It’s also bringing us together as a family because we all hate it but, like the Leaving Cert, it is tough but fair as we all rotate through all the jobs.

Mr. Waffle and I went for a cycle which was grand though a bit repetitive. And it did not rain on us which was very welcome. Small triumphs.

Monday, May 11, 2020

I started the day with another cold shower. The plumber came at lunch time and fixed the shower. There was great rejoicing.

Delivery of the Irish Times every morning continues to bring joy although the paper is pretty slim. Monday is the sports supplement day and there are still a lot of sports pages which is quite amazing given how little sport is actually continuing. Mr. Waffle wrote a letter to the paper last week and I read it out to him over breakfast without realising it was his (he’s a secretive soul). He got a great kick from saying, “Mmm, but can we trust this random letter writer?” and having me look to see who sent the letter and realise it was him. This is how we amuse ourselves in lock down.

I cycled out to our nearby village with herself which was pretty chilly but probably good for us. It felt a bit worthy.

I had my online book club again, we have even begun, tentatively, speaking about books again. In our new zoom format, I’ve become much more aware of who the quiet ones are and who the talkers are. Lads, I’m a big talker.

I am delighted that we have a) got a new e-reader and b) worked out how to download library books on to it. Mind you, the recommended book club read (“Such a Fun Age”) is only available in August, still something to look forward to for the holidays.

Speaking of holidays, I have resigned myself to the loss of the money paid for flights for five of us to America this summer (out to NY back from LA, let us never speak of it again) and am turning my attention to possible summer holiday locations in Ireland. Our friend who is holed up in West Cork for the duration says that holiday houses for August are going fast. Is this just an opportunity to throw good money after bad? Will we actually be able to go anywhere in August? Should I just look forward to a fortnight at home exploring in the Dublin region? Thoughts?

Tuesday, May 12, 2020

I started the day with a warm shower. That is an awful lot better than a cold shower.

Herself got up early and watched “Normal People” on the telly. Mr. Waffle found her downstairs at 8. She told him she was going to be discussing it in her French conversation class at 9.30. “I understand there’s a lot of sex in it,” said Mr. Waffle bravely. “Yes,” she said, “that’s why I’m watching it at 8 in the morning without my parents.” Fair enough.

Mr. Waffle asked me recently what we would have done differently, if we’d known the pandemic was coming. Probably not an awful lot (with the exception of booking and paying for so much travel). Last year when we got the kitchen done, I would have been a bit more insistent about getting a loan to do the utility room as well (we wanted to turn it into a kids’ games room, place where they could gather, it would have been pretty handy as a home office in current circumstances), however, Mr. Waffle assures me that he would not have agreed to a loan, even had he known about the pandemic, so I suppose that’s not really a lost chance. Mr. Waffle is cautious and dislikes being in debt more than I can say. Lengthy diversion follows to describe how, when he was a student in Paris, he used to walk to the distant suburb where he lived rather than get the RER as he didn’t have enough money and didn’t want to ask his parents for more. I particularly like to hear about the time he walked out from the centre of Paris, in the snow, with a hole in his shoe. You might think based on this story that his parents were unable or unwilling to fund him but, on the contrary, they were generous and quite willing. He is not a man for depending on others when he can manage by himself.

We were going to get a job done on the bathroom this summer and I suppose we could have speeded that up a bit, particularly as we have now had to spend money to fix the old shower but it’s alright really.

What about you? Are there things you would have done differently, had you known that the pandemic was coming? I’m not talking about investing in disinfectant, zoom and face mask shares but more in the domestic and personal sphere.

In going through old files (Mr. Waffle and I are the king and queen of filing) looking for our gas reference number from our former supplier (which I needed for reasons to do with my own idiocy covered in a previous post), I found a folder with insurance documents for the car we brought back from Brussels in 2008. The car went to my sister in, maybe, 2011 and she got rid of it a number of years ago. I suggested that the papers might go but he is reluctant to part with them. The folder has moved under the stairs with a view to subsequently, perhaps, going to the shed and, ultimately, perhaps, whisper it, disposal. I suppose if it goes, I’ll be compelled to review my folder of payslips from the 90s. We’re all on a journey here.

Mr. Waffle and I went for our evening walk in the 5km zone. Not much by way of novelty, I fear.

Wednesday, May 13, 2020

Woke up and had absolutely no idea what day of the week it was. I worked it out later. I had a warm shower, again. Very pleasing.

I have been reflecting on the joy of lunch. The five of us have lunch together every day. Dinner is a constant source of disappointment to me. I am a poor cook and my children are picky eaters (perhaps these are related things). But lunch is easy – just a collection of left overs from the fridge arranged nicely and usually everyone eats something (though Michael has been known to hold out, he sometimes also nibbles a little chorizo).

It was absolutely freezing and I apologise to no one for having spent the day with a hot water bottle at my feet.

Mr. Waffle and I went for an evening walk but didn’t really find any fresh fields to conquer. The school contacted us to encourage one of our children to put in a bit more homework than had been received to date. There was some unhappiness but all was forgiven and the child expressed a firm purpose of amendment. It is very tough on them as the expectation level is so unclear. I cannot wait for the summer holidays to start at the end of the month.

Thursday, May 14, 2020

Today was a day filled with meetings which is tricky from home. Not as tricky for me as for one of my colleagues who presented to 40 people with great aplomb on an interesting and complex topic. Doing this online is tough anyhow but when your two year old and your four year old children are with you and are being minded by the TV (as his were, he confided to me later), it is even tougher. He was great but the meeting ran over and he was still fielding questions when an irate child in the background asked about lunch in imperious tones. I thought he handled it really well, saying calmly, “I’ll just mute my mic for a moment.” We wound up shortly afterwards all the same. I mean, just as well really, I wanted my own lunch.

Daniel had to do his home ec practical exam and he made dough balls and bruschetta. We had them for dinner last night and very nice they were too. Herself made risotto for our main course. She makes wonderful risotto. While my children were slaving over a hot stove, I went for a cycle and I ran into a friend in the park. We were both unaccompanied so I hopped off my bike and we went for a socially distant walk and chat which was lovely. Zoom is all very well but it’s no substitute for meeting people.

I like to tell my children stories about my parents and relatives but, I suppose, they may have heard some of them before. A recent practice has sprung up where when people have heard a story before they raise their hands. Michael generally doesn’t to the intense chagrin of the others; mostly because he doesn’t seem to have listened the first 14 times I’ve told the story. I embarked on a story last night and it was greeted by a forest of hands. “She’s concerned about the Library of Alexandria,” explained the Princess. I came across a phrase recently, “Every time an old person dies, the Library of Alexandria burns to the ground.” It really struck me. I think probably because my father is so old and knows so much. I turn to him for information on all historical 20th century events (he was born in 1925 so he has personal experience of most of it) and questions about family and relatives and I am increasingly conscious that he won’t live forever. Until, the Princess made her announcement last night, I hadn’t really thought of myself as being the Library of Alexandria and trying to drum in family stories and facts to the children to ensure they survive after I’m gone but I suppose that is exactly what I’m doing. Anyhow, I looked a bit balefully at the Princess and she added, “Though, in this case, I wouldn’t say the Library of Alexandria is particularly strong on trigonometry.” Oh how we laughed.

Friday, May 15, 2020

We got a bread and croissant delivery for breakfast to celebrate the start of the weekend. Hurrah. The orthodontist texted that he is re-opening mid June. Further rejoicing.

Mr. Waffle and I cycled to the sea which is within our 5 km zone. It remains unchanged from when we last inspected it on my birthday (March 10) but it was nice to the see the sea, I have to say.

We had cinema night. It continues satisfactory. Herself chose the film. We had a Will Ferrell offering called “Stranger than Fiction” which wasn’t bad. Great cast and a clever idea. Some problems in execution though. But PG 13 which was a huge relief to everyone.

Saturday, May 16, 2020

It was my niece’s birthday and we skype called her to wish her a happy 12th birthday. She seemed cheerful notwithstanding lock down. She is re-watching all of the “Friends” episodes for the fourth time so she and I had some discussion on this shared cultural endeavour.

I retired some of Michael’s (very small) t-shirts and bought more online. Now that he is basically an adult size, this is not as cheap as it once was. We bought a shirt for Daniel, a shirt for me and a couple of items for herself as well. I have never bought an item of clothing online for myself before and I await with mild interest the outcome of this foray into a brave new world. I have, depressingly, ordered face masks for all of us as well. As I understand it we are encouraged to wear them in shops and on public transport. Something to look forward to.

Mr. Waffle and I went out for a cycle; we thought we might have a walk in the cemetery (all the thrills) but it was locked up.

We took part in an online quiz and we didn’t do too badly considering that due to technical issues we missed all the questions in one round. The wifi continues to be delicate.

I await your pandemic news with bated breath etc.

Plague Diary – Part IX

7 May, 2020 6 Comments
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Family, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess

Monday, May 4, 2020

I went for a cycle on my own for an hour. The weather was pleasant and it was nice to be out.

Having deferred cleaning to today, we all dutifully did our cleaning from the rota after lunch. Cleaning the house is tedious, there’s no two ways about it. But effective. Top tip from me, do not use a cleaner with bleach on a stainless steel hob.

Mr. Waffle and I read in the garden for a bit. We’re both re-reading. Some of us have chosen more challenging material than others.

The neighbours gave us half a dozen eggs over the wall. Speaking of hens, I don’t mean to tempt fate here but I think our rat problem may be resolved. Fingers crossed, eh?

My sister has started making candles. Really not sure where this will all end.

Tuesday, May 5, 2020

The children have the day off school as it’s the founder’s day. This is the first time in years herself hasn’t been organising and/or speaking at a schools’ conference. My sister asked why not an online webinar but herself said, wisely, “No one wants that.” Mr. Waffle took the day off work also to tend to the children and take them away from their electronic devices.

I got a call from my brother asking how to dispose of a dead bird. All part of the service. He doesn’t have a cat; I can only assume that he stalked it in the garden and carried it off in his strong jaws.

Mr. Waffle spent 3 (!) hours playing Risk with the boys in the afternoon. He is the best father. Herself and myself went for a cycle to a village at the edge of our 5km zone to celebrate our extended containment zone. Quite pleasant too.

My father was released from hospital again. Somewhat improved. I hope he’s well enough now to stay out for a bit.

Wednesday, May 6, 2020

Back to the grindstone for the children. Online school is slowly killing them. My poor, poor children.

Our google calendar is quite empty. It is very strange. I can’t quite understand how we managed to fit in so much stuff in what I think I should start calling “the before days”. We appear to be in the process of acquiring a milkman. As we get through 16 litres a week, I’m hoping this will be worthwhile.

I cycled out to our nearby village again. Unaccompanied which was fine. I met a friend walking in the park on the way back which was very exciting and we stopped for a good long socially distanced chat.

Herself has set up her own online shop where she is selling her clothes second hand. “I’m selling a lifestyle,” says she. Her experience of capitalism has been exciting. She nearly expired when she found she had to pay €8 for postage. “That’s nothing, imagine if you had to pay staff costs,” I said. “Mmm,” said herself, staunch critic of Amazon’s policy on unions and part of the reason we try not to buy any Amazon stuff, “who needs unions, we’re family, I will look after you.”

Thursday, May 7, 2020

The capitalism experience continued. She sold all her items. She packed them, she added free stuff, she forked out for her online postage and this is not to mention the time cost of extensive photographing the previous day. “If,” she said bitterly, “you had told me that I had to do all this and at the end you would give me €1.70, I would never have done it.” And, I have to tell you, she has no supplier costs. She’s reviewing her pricing policy and is, even as I write, putting up more stuff.

Bewley’s, a very well know Dublin cafe, is closing its Grafton Steet branch. I am experiencing mild regret, they did a great Lapsang. When it nearly went to the wall in the 1980s, the then Taoiseach, Garrett Fitzgerald, suggested that it might be nationalised and I thought my father would be carried off by an apoplexy at the prospect of his taxes going to prop up a Dublin cafe but nothing came of it. Nobody is suggesting nationalising it now but the Irish Times gave it acres of newsprint.

The internet died over lunch and the company said that it was a line fault and could be days before eircom got to us (days!).

I took Daniel off on my cycle to the nearby village. He pronounced it ok. I ran into my friend again and this time we were very blasé and just waved at each other.

Meanwhile, Mr. Waffle turned the kitchen table into a temporary table tennis table with medium success.

Friday, May 8, 2020

The eircom man came first thing. A lovely man and the first person we’ve had in the house in about a month who isn’t a family member. Very exciting. He said that there was nothing wrong with the line and the fault must be the modem. It came back on, on Friday morning anyhow and we have been crossing our fingers ever since.

We had pastries and bread delivered to celebrate that it’s Friday. My sister sent me a notiony candle out of the blue. Quite the thrill, I can tell you.

The neighbourhood whatsapp group is full of details of local pubs delivering pints (there are several).

Michael and I cycled out to our nearby village. An opportunity to test his new shoes which arrived in the post this morning. It is a nice cycle but yet, all other things being equal, I probably wouldn’t advise doing it four times in the one week. On our way home we met the family of a school friend of Michael and Daniel’s from primary school (friend was at home but his parents and younger siblings were out). It’s all the same really for everyone. The father is German so he had a slightly different story to tell about his parents in Germany (fine, thankfully) and what restrictions are like there (significantly eased – his father got his hair cut today).

The German language school where herself was supposed to be going for a fortnight in the summer refunded her fees (I mean refund is good, rejoice). And the three week camp Daniel was supposed to be going on in June is cancelled also and the organisers have promised to refund unless we want to roll it over to next year. We’ll see. Meanwhile, Michael’s refusal to do any kind of course or activity this summer is looking surprisingly prescient.

Mr. Waffle and I went for a walk around a local housing estate (can you call it that, if it’s Victorian?). I had never noticed before that all of the houses have the same front door. They must be 100 years old but the ones that were gone were few and far between. Robust.

For cinema night we watched “Three Identical Strangers” which was successful in that everyone stayed for the duration and it was interesting but it’s a bit sad. I think pandemic viewing requires more laughs. “Catch Me, If You Can” remains the high point of pandemic viewing season.

Saturday, May 9, 2020

Ah, Europe Day, I thought of the bank holiday I would be enjoying if I worked for one of the European institutions. In fact, May and June in Brussels were something of a bank holiday bonanza. And then there was this delightful habit of taking off (possibly being given off?) a day to make up a long weekend if the secular or religious holiday did not fall on a Friday or a Monday (faire le pont – words to conjure with).

Yesterday, the children were complaining that the shower didn’t work. Did we listen? No. Were we sorry? Yes. I had a cold shower which is deeply unpleasant. The man is going to come to fix it on Monday (is plumbing an emergency service, I suppose so).

Herself and myself went to queue with hipsters in the hope of getting nice bread from a local cafe turned take-away but they were sold out. To console ourselves, we bought frozen vareniki from our local Eastern European produce shop. Mr. Waffle (our domestic vareniki maker – we liked them when we had them in Estonia last year and he has been honing his skills since) was outraged.

I set the children hedge cutting and lawn mowing in the afternoon. They did a great job but we had to stop as we have, again, run out of composting capacity. My lilac is growing and thriving with one very notable problem. It is not producing flowers. How long is this going to continue for?

I made biscuits. We ate them.

I went back on the walk Mr. Waffle and I took yesterday and photographed the doors. I was slightly mortified when one of the doors opened as I was standing on the path snapping it. However, it was a nice German man who was pleased that I was photographing his door. He told me that when they moved in, it was a horrible plastic one but they managed to source one of the original doors, put it in and painted it up. His daughter chose the colour; and very nice it looked too.

Lots of the houses had beautiful peonies. I am hopeful that in the near future I too will have beautiful peonies as, unlike the disappointing lilac, they look like they are about to burst into bloom.

I feel I know my 5km radius in some detail.

And how are things in your own pandemic location?

Plague Diary – Part VIII

4 May, 2020 5 Comments
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Dublin, Family, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Work

Sunday, April 26, 2020

We cleaned again. I am slightly amazed by the efficacy of the Sunday cleaning rota. I’ve printed it out for another 5 weeks which is a little depressing though. Mr. Waffle and I went for a mild walk. All of the children have said that I am unusually grumpy, so I suppose it must be true. I believe I am as sunny as ever but, apparently, I’m a bit short-tempered. Alas.

My father is not really very well and he’s going into hospital tomorrow so that they can have a look at him and see whether they can change his medication and make him feel a little better. It’s a bit grim in Cork, I think.

Paying for my credit card bill online on my phone, I accidentally transferred the money to the gas company with whom I no longer have an account. There is really no excuse for this idiocy. I suppose I’ll have to write to them.

Monday, April 27, 2020

Everyone was a bit glum. My father has gone into hospital for a week so they can have a look at him. His GP says that he has never seen the hospital emptier; it’s a small private hospital that generally does elective procedures. As I said to herself when we went for a walk at lunchtime, “The hospital is really quiet, it’s like a morgue apparently.” Honestly, I’d want to watch my cliche use. My back and neck are quite sore. I suspect it is being chained to the desk more than usual and the absence of any approved ergonomic set up.

Daniel and I cycled in the park. We did not love it but we did it.

I had my online bookclub. Almost a full complement of members attended. We’re all at the end of our tether it transpires.

My camellia has finally reluctantly yielded a solitary bloom. No sign of the lilac producing anything as of yet.

Tuesday, April 28, 2020

Herself arrived down to breakfast looking very glamorous. She is keeping standards alive during lock down and, as the young people say, I am here for it.

Another trying day in the salt mines. I managed to complete a difficult piece of work, so there’s that but another irritant is, well, irritating. I may need a change, I feel.

Mr. Waffle made dinner allowing herself and myself to go off for a cycle in the park. It was a welcome diversion after a day chained to the desk.

I tried my hand at sourdough. It did not rise. We are definitely downhearted. For one thing, that’s 400grms of strong white flour gone and it’s hard stuff to get hold of. Not a great shot, it didn’t look great in non-blurry reality either.

Our neighbourhood whatsapp group is now exclusively about bread and flour and where you can get them.

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

Today’s extremely trying day at work was improved by Mr. Waffle calling me away to look at pictures of the children when they were small. He is backing up all of our digital photographic archive on a single storage device and I love him. He made lunch as well. What a hero.

Today’s announcement is that the Junior Cert is definitely off. My poor sons, but I think that this time they mean it. We are all counting the days until the school holidays begin at the end of May. The teachers are setting a lot of work and the children are sick of it. Poor mites.

The airbnb I had booked for our summer holidays in the US refunded me my money – they’re letting it out long term now. I thought that money was gone forever so that’s a plus, I suppose. It turns out though that I don’t want the money so much as the things I thought I was buying with it. I’m sad that my tiny (almost non-existent) hope that we might get to America this summer has now been utterly quashed. Oh well.

Meanwhile, the hospital told my brother that my father fell out of his chair last night but he’s fine. But yet. Overall, he seems to be doing pretty well in hospital. He is delighted to be completely vindicated in relation to his medication. When he was in the orthopaedic hospital at the start of the pandemic, they changed his regime and he was furious. My sister refused to smuggle in his pills. But, it transpires he was quite right and part of the reason he is in hospital now is to deal with the knock-on impact of decisions they made in the orthopaedic hospital. The hope is that he will be “back to his baseline” and discharged by the end of the week. We’ll see.

Meanwhile, he is torturing my poor sister with random requests. He rang her yesterday and left a message that there was a crisis. On further investigation, it transpired that he had run out of vests.

Thursday, April 30, 2020

Herself has written a fantastic poem which is to be on the school website and I am very proud. She refuses to let me put it up here so, sorry, your loss. We have ordered pizza from a deli for lunch. Not great pizza, it transpired.

It’s possible that on a conference call with 30 people this morning when I thought my mic was muted, the group heard me say, “Morning, sweetheart, why don’t you go and have a shower?” Possibly not, must check bilaterally with a reliable source.

Herself pointed out that this will probably be the defining event of her childhood which we would never have predicted. True, for the boys as well, I assume. I asked her what the defining event would have been otherwise and she thought it was probably her three months in France. The boys asked what was a defining event and then said that they had no other defining events. Fine.

Work very frantic and then a work quiz in the evening. Very elaborate with break out rooms and 300 people on the call. Good fun but at the same time on the computer from 9 in the morning (work until 7.15, quick bite of dinner and quiz started at 7.30) until midnight when the quiz finally ended. That’s a long time.

This was the first day since the lock down started that I haven’t got out for at least half an hour. I walked up and down the road for ten minutes at lunchtime but that was it. The rule for the children is that they have to go out for half an hour and exercise and if they don’t do it during the day, they come on a walk after work with their father and me. But, there was no walk after work today. Oh well, I trust tomorrow will be better.

Friday, May 1, 2020

The Crunchy Nut Cornflake battle ground is becoming more intense.

We got a delivery of breakfast pastries and bread to celebrate the start of the bank holiday weekend. Exciting stuff. Michael announced that all his shoes are too small for him.

My father tested negative for corona virus again. He was due to be released today but they’re holding on to him until Tuesday. His mood might, conservatively, be described as not delighted. He’s much better than he was when he went in though, so that’s good.

Work was a bit better and, wonderfully, I got to take my half-day. And a bank holiday weekend. Let joy be unconfined. To celebrate we went for a walk in the hail.

There was a slightly odd man standing stock still outside our house when we emerged. He was still there when we came back from our walk. The guards were talking to him and, in fairness to them, they must have stayed a good hour. As he went off on his way, I heard them say, “Mind yourself, now.” It is not a good time to have mental health problems, I fear.

The Taoiseach announced our five step programme for escape from lock down. Very little changes until May 17 and relatively little after that (from Tuesday we’re allowed go 5kms from home for exercise rather than 2, so there’s that, I suppose). It’s going to be a long summer.

Mr. Waffle has backed up our digital archive from 2003 to date on two external back up things. I went through the photos from 2003 yesterday. Frankly, I look exhausted and my hair is nothing to write home about either. Herself was born in April and we were living in Brussels, we went to weddings in Normandy (May), Rome (June), Offaly (July), Mayo (August), Cortona (September) and Cork (ok 2004 but January 2004). No wonder we were exhausted. I do think that I could have done a bit better on the hair front though.

Mr. Waffle chose our family film for the evening. Quite exciting having our big screen out again and film a huge success. He kept it secret until the moment of screening and then revealed that it was “Catch Me If You Can” which I would really recommend for family viewing. I saw it when it came out but I’d forgotten a lot of it and it’s aged pretty well. We all enjoyed it.

Saturday, May 2, 2020

Clark’s website having utterly defeated me, I bought shoes from Marks and Spencer for Michael. I hope they will fit. Earliest delivery date is next weekend. His preferred solution to his problem is to stay in socks all week but Mr. Waffle cunningly remembered that we had bought new hiking boots for skiing just before lockdown. These are available to a deeply unenthused Michael for when he goes outdoors for exercise.

Daniel’s GAA club had a joint training session via zoom. Mr. Waffle held the phone and Daniel did the exercise. I think in a strange way they both enjoyed it, even if the greater portion of Daniel’s enjoyment came from pointing out how absolutely useless his father is at using zoom.

Mr. Waffle and I went for a longish walk into the city (fear not, within 2 kms). It was quite pleasant and sunny.

This evening’s street zoom quiz was deferred until next weekend as too many people were unavailable due to other zoom commitments. Goodness. The way we live now, apparently.

Sunday, May 3, 2020

Herself came down to breakfast and announced she was better. Since we had all forgotten that she had gone to bed early as she was ill, this announcement was received with more bafflement than it deserved. We are terrible parents.

Herself, Mr. Waffle and I went for a long cycle in the park which was pleasant in the fine weather. The place was very heaving with people. Social distancing was a little bit of a challenge. This picture is unrepresentative.

As Monday is a bank holiday, we have deferred cleaning the house to tomorrow.

We cut up Saturday’s paper and stuck up the release from quarantine timetable to the radiator.

This gave me an opportunity to inspect the magnetic poetry more closely than I have done recently. I see we are using poetry to address the injustices of the current regime. Some of it more lyrical, other pieces more direct.

Any updates from your own lock down?

Plague Diary – Part VII

26 April, 2020 3 Comments
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Work

Sunday, April 19, 2020

Herself begins baking her first sourdough loaf. We’re excited but tense.

The hard egg was deployed. She grated it over egg (baffling) and pronounced it tasty.

The cleaning rota continues to hold good. As the person on miscellaneous duties this week, I, inter alia, cleaned the fanlight over the front door and I am very pleased with myself. Small pleasures etc.

I have noticed that the dishwasher is now always full. This is annoying but, I suppose, inevitable. I spoke to my father on Skype. He didn’t enjoy it much. I have yielded to the inevitable and joined the neighbourhood whatsapp group.

Once I’d mowed the heads off the impressive dandelion crop (miscellaneous duties), Mr. Waffle and I sat in the back garden and did codewords puzzles. He has mastered the cryptic crossword in the Irish Times and when this is finished he has fallen back on these. Hard copy delivery of the Irish Times every day is proving a very worthwhile pandemic investment.

As we sat in the back garden listening to birdsong and the more distant sounds of neighbours disporting themselves, Mr. Waffle said to me, “Is this what you imagined the soundtrack to a pandemic would be?” I suppose not.

In the early evening I went for a walk while talking on the phone to my sister. I talked to her about planting a tree for my mother in the garden. “I was thinking maybe a magnolia,” I said. “Well, you could,” said my sister, “but it might be a bit of an insult to her memory as she never managed to grow the magnolia she bought and she was quite annoyed about it. She blamed [our brother] for killing it with the football.” Back to the drawing board.

Monday, April 20, 2020

This is the end of the Easter holidays. Not a huge difference from the actual Easter holidays. The children are getting homework set again. The boys had a lot to do over Easter for the exams that they are not now going to have. I do feel for them. Meanwhile, herself is in despair a bit over maths; her teacher has been reasonably good, I think but she feels that maths and applied maths do not lend themselves to home learning. My poor children.

Honestly, working from home is work with all the fun bits stripped out. Nose to the grindstone all day with hardly a break from conference calls and other delights; barely even time to grab a cup of tea. Poor children utterly neglected between 9 and 7. Commute is short though, so there’s that.

Herself made her first sourdough loaf. Not what she was hoping for but we will persevere. Are we downhearted? A bit, to be honest. As she said herself, “Like Easter Sunday, 1916, only a partial rising.” We have given some of our sourdough starter to the neighbours. We await hearing about their efforts with interest.

I had my Monday night bookclub online again. I don’t know what I would do without it.

Mr. Waffle had the University Challenge final ruined for him by seeing an interview with the Irish guy on one of the teams on the news before we switched on our recording. The team with the Irish guy won. He didn’t seem to play a big role to be honest. I notice no women in the final, yet again. We live in a changed world but some things are unchanging.

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Work is still unpleasantly busy. It is unpleasant. I do feel it would be much easier to manage if we were all back at our desks in the one building.

Here are two things that I thought I would love:

Working from home
Giving up work and minding my children when they were small

Here are two things it turns out, I do not love:

Working from home
Giving up work and minding my children when they were small

In my defence, I don’t think, that I had a classic experience of either of these things. When the children were small, I was living in Belgium, far away from relations and all my friends were at work. When you have small children, you really appreciate your relatives.

I can see working from home being good if you could go into the office from time to time; if you were alone at home; and if you were not worrying about the health and economic aspects of a global pandemic.

Meanwhile, I sent my receipt for physiotherapy to the VHI (my health insurer). They wrote back and told me that the receipt was insufficient for them to verify that the physiotherapist was registered with the relevant body. I contacted the clinic; they sent further paperwork; I submitted it to the VHI who have just written to tell me that my policy does not cover physiotherapy. I feel some intermediate work there could have been cut out.

I bought myself new measuring spoons from Danforth Pewter in Vermont. I got my last set 13 years ago when we visited my friend in Vermont so they’ve lasted pretty well but one of them has gone missing mysteriously. I spent a good while on to Cathy in customer service (they do not generally ship outside North America, it’s complicated) and I have to say, these Americans, they do a great job in customer service; she was a delight. I await my new measuring spoons with the same sense of excitement and anticipation that was formerly reserved for a weekend away.

I played basketball in the garden with Daniel and got hit in the face by the ball. Twice. Unsatisfactory. One of our neighbours has swept the lane behind the houses and put up a basketball hoop. When this is over, Daniel will be able to play basketball in the lane with the neighbours’ children, which is, I suppose, a corona virus dividend.

Daniel and I went for a cycle in the park which was fine but over familiar.

We cracked open the 5 kilo pack of fusilli that Mr. Waffle bought at the start of the pandemic. Unnecessary, in retrospect.

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

God, work is going to be the death of me. And the broadband was a bit dodgy today. And this chair is not designed for sitting in all day.

In exciting news, our projector arrived. Herself is hunting through cables trying to get it to work. Let us hope that we get it sorted for the weekend.

I bought some fancy tea to improve my working from home environment.

The Princess, Michael and I cycled around the park. Michael and I had to cycle round twice because he lost a glove. We found the lost glove but I am definitely tiring of the park.

Thursday, April 23, 2020

Daniel, the Princess and I cycled to the fancy bread shop before breakfast. Roads are a bit busier than they have been. Quality of baked goods was pleasingly good and we got two kilos of flour as well.

My fancy tea arrived. It has not significantly improved the quality of my working day, thus far.

Herself offered to spruce up the utility room to make it a nicer working environment for her father (he hadn’t noticed any problems).

Mr. Waffle and I went out for an evening walk. At least it’s fine, I suppose. And word from my mother-in-law’s nursing home is positive. It could be worse.

Friday, April 24, 2020

Work is going to be the death of me. Another half day that didn’t materialise, I might as well abandon my Friday half days and get paid for my work on Friday afternoons. Sigh.

Highlight of the working day was lunchtime when herself performed an interpretative dance showing her father’s sentiments when people come into the kitchen when he is working there (occasionally, he has to venture out of the rat hole/pretty large utility room when he needs internet access – despite boosters, we continue to pay for internet access in the front garden but not in all parts of the house).

In recognition of the pandemic, I have sanctioned purchase of Crunchy Nut Cornflakes. I went to try a bowl myself and was slightly put off by the label affixed to the packet.

The screen for cinema night arrived and herself promised to make dinner. She made a really excellent risotto. After dinner we retired to our new home cinema. We laid in extensive snacks. V exciting. The only difficulty was our complete inability to agree on a film. We watched “Easy A”. It is not suitable family viewing. Suggestions for next Friday’s viewing very welcome.

Saturday, April 25, 2020

I made croissants in a can for breakfast. Not bad at all, all things considered. The paper was not entirely cheering on the question of ending lockdown.

It was a nice day and we spent much of it in the garden further cutting back foliage. Until the compost bin collapses a bit, there is no more scope to cut back anything further. Meanwhile there was a neighbourhood wide clean up of the street and the lanes. It’s absolutely immaculate out there. I made more bread.

We were hosts to the quiz on the road. The children ran up and down to collect answers from the neighbours as rounds were completed. Some with more enthusiasm than others. I was vindicated in my belief that not everyone knows the Argentine flag. It required a great deal of organisation but we felt very virtuous afterwards.