belgianwaffle

Princess

The Night of the Big Wind


Posted in: Ireland, Princess

The Princess is doing a project on hurricanes in school. Her father and I told her about the Irish hurricane; probably the only hurricane which has been used to test pension entitlements. I read her out the entry on the “big wind” from the Oxford Companion to Irish History:

“big wind”, the storm which ravaged Ireland, particularly the west, north and midlands, on the night of Sunday, 6 January 1839. High winds uprooted trees, destroyed buildings, killed livestock and, in built-up areas, spread fires. Although one newspaper put total deaths at 300 or more, a suvey of contemporary reports has found about 90 documented fatalities, 37 of them at sea. When old-age pensions were introduced in 1909 memories of the storm were one of the tests used to identify persons over 70.

Herself was spectacularly uninterested in this piece of national memory but the “big wind” looms large in the national imagination, you know, as kick-starting a series of disasters: first the big wind, then the famine, then mass emigration, then the failed 1848 uprising, then the sacrifice of our first born children to the subordinated bond holders and so on. You too may be uninterested in the “big wind” especially if you live in a country that has had a hurricane since 1839 but today is day 9 of Nablopomo and I am finding it a bit difficult to think of anything to post. Never mind, only 21 days to go.

In other news, today my sister is celebrating her birthday in Hawaii. I am not envious. Personally, I find November rain invigorating. Particularly on a bicycle.

Correspondence


Posted in: Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

When I got home from work this evening, there was an envelope by my bed with the words “To Mummy” on it in the Princess’s handwriting. I gazed at it fondly and then I opened it, this is what it said:

“Micel is a cruel stuck-up idiotic prig and a loser but he’s ashamed to admit it. If you are going to deal with him anser here.”

Underneath there is a line for my comments. Poor Micel, he crosses his sister at his peril.

Out of the Mouths of Babes and Sucklings


Posted in: Ireland, Mr. Waffle, Princess

Princess: Daddy, how do cheques work?
Him: Well, essentially, it’s a promise to pay. A long time ago, money was made of metal which was the actual value of the coin; but that was awkward to carry over long distances. So, they gave a piece of paper with a promise to pay and people trusted other people to pay out on that and that’s how banks came about.
Her (dubiously): People trusted the banks?
Him: Yes!
Her: But people trusted the Titantic not to sink.
Him: Well, funny you should mention that…

Oh frabjous day


Posted in: Princess

When the Princess was 4, on Wednesday afternoons I used to haul her to a private pool for very expensive private one-to-one swimming lessons. She looked technically beautiful as she went along – grenouille, avion, flèche – but, crucially, she wasn’t actually able to swim. She resisted lessons after that initial foray. All last summer I thought that she would get the hang of it but she just didn’t. And then, today when I had no hopes of anything but that nobody would drown in the pool, she started to swim. Just like that. I am pleased.

For Theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven*. Allegedly.


Posted in: Middle Child, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

An old friend of mine was in Dublin briefly. I met him on Sunday. We went for a walk in the Park which was pleasant. Alas, it did not stop there. Because he is a brother (religious, not related) and he expressed an interest, I thought that I would have him to dinner and we would eat at the same time as the children. I would never do this to anyone else. I think, I felt because he was in a religious order, he needed more exposure to small children and he would enjoy it. WHY would I think that?

So, it started off auspiciously enough, the boys played boardgames with the guest, the Princess read her book and ignored him but was not actively disagreeable. After a particularly contentious game of snap/beggar my neighbour when Daniel swept the cards from the table and collapsed sobbing and red faced on the floor, Mr. Waffle thought it would be better to turn on the television to calm the troops. Because we live in one room, this meant that my friend had to watch Elmo too. He was polite, but I suspect that this was not what he was used to in the lofty circles in which he moves in Rome. Certainly, the Princess shushing him was toe-curlingly ghastly.

Dinner was just dreadful. The children were all quite excited by the guest. They manifested this by shouting over him. Daniel, for reasons that are not entirely clear to me, spent much of dinner leaning back on his chair and howling like a wolf. Earlier in the day they had seen this video and it made a profound impression on them. The first time they performed it, it was mildly amusing but by the 25th any entertainment value had pretty much evaporated.

Our friend was, as becomes an American and a religious man, polite about his welcome and saintly with our children. You can read his, frankly, untruthful account of his visit here. In fact, the only truthful thing he said is what he said when we apologised for the children’s “high-spirited” behaviour: “Don’t worry, it strengthens my vocation.”

I tried to upload to youtube a taster of what he faced. It wouldn’t work. You would have to imagine it over dinner and louder. Much louder. And I couldn’t quite face showing you where the paint has been knocked off the wall behind the couch by the children standing on their heads and kicking it.

*For the religious: Mark 10:14, not Matthew 5:3 or Matthew 5:10 although, if the matter were put to them, the children themselves would unhesitatngly plump for Matthew 5:10.