Princess

My Public Needs Me

27 July, 2022
Posted in: Cork, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

My thanks to both of the people (only one of whom is related to me) who asked about blog updates. Here we are, lots of news.

Sunday July 3 and Monday July 4

I took myself down to Cork to see my friend who was home from America with her four children. She had them entered for the Munster junior open and we spent a happy couple of hours on the porch of the tennis club watching them whack balls back and forth over the net with varying levels of success. A ticker tape ran through my head: “This is so much better than working”. I wonder when this will fade. My friend’s mother came down and sat with us for a while. It took me back about 40 years. Her parents have been really well but they are both entering into their 80s now and things are, alas, starting to go wrong and I’m not entirely sure how long they’ll be able to keep up a big house in Cork and another one in Singapore. I do feel for my friend, because it’s hard to be so far away when things start to go awry.

Separately she has four children to put through college in the US. She tells me it will cost â‚¬70,000 per child per year. It makes the English fees we are paying seem very modest (though they are well in excess of Irish college fees of about â‚¬3,000 a year). One of her children wants to study medicine and that goes on forever. They might send her to college in Ireland as even international student fees in Ireland are far cheaper than American fees. It’s an absolute nightmare. She explained something to me which I hadn’t previously understood. In America, it’s not really about what you study at undergraduate level but where you go. The natural Irish question “what do you want to study in college?” isn’t really so relevant for them.

In more positive news, we celebrated my aunt’s 93rd birthday while I was in Cork and Daniel finally tested negative for Covid on Sunday.

Tuesday, July 5

I spent the day at work clearing out my office, sending a couple of final emails and having meetings with colleagues. At the end of the day, I really felt finally finished with work.

Wednesday, July 6

Herself and myself went shopping. She turned herself into my personal shopper and it was amazing. Would 100% do again. Very entertaining and a great haul of clothes for me.

Thursday, July 7 – The wonderful everyday

I said to the children, “Is there anything you three would like to do? I mean all of you?” It turns out that there is. We went to Ikea for lunch.

Friday, July 8

I investigated the new local market. There was a Greek man selling olive oil. “Are you based in Carlow?” I asked. He was surprised but said that yes, he was based in Carlow. It’s just that my sister buys olive oil in bulk from a Greek man in Carlow and how many Greek olive oil sellers can there be in Ireland?

Herself decamped to Cork to grace her relatives there with her presence. An exciting weekend followed involving a visit to a spa, dinner out (twice!) shopping and a long cycle in West Cork. She pronounced herself very pleased.

Saturday, July 9

Mr. Waffle and I went to a local cafe for breakfast where one of Daniel’s GAA team mates turned up as a waiter. Apparently they schedule his shifts around his GAA commitments (peak employment, folks). We told Daniel when we got home. “Did you speak to him?” he asked in tones of horror. Yes, we did speak to the boy we have known since he was 4 who was also our waiter. Sorry about that.

I went with Daniel to test the cycle route to the course he is attending for three weeks. Michael and I cycled to the Casino Marino to check out the Piranesi exhibition, which was a little disappointing but the Casino is always nice. Lads, I was exhausted though. I cycled for miles.

Sunday, July 10

I had my lovely Sunday afternoon book club. We read a book set in Northern Ireland. One of our number is from the North and the kindest, gentlest woman you could imagine. The book was set in the 90s and I was trying to explain how I felt that the North, where the author grew up in the 90s, was more like the South in the 70s and 80s when I was growing up. I said, clumsily, “I feel that the North is about 10 years behind the South.” Don’t say that to someone from the North, even someone very kind and gentle. In an unaccustomedly tart tone she said, “That’s funny because in the North we always felt we were 10 years ahead of the South.” Cross-border dialogue at its best there.

Monday, July 11

Daniel started his course and pronounced himself pleased. Just as well as it is three weeks long.

Tuesday, July 12

Daniel came off his bike and was a bit shook up. He hurt hands, elbows and hip. He cycled home after the fall but he was really keen to go back to his course so I dropped him there in the car.

I dropped herself to the airport three hours before her flight to avoid airport chaos and she was at the gate in 20 minutes. It was ever thus. Needless to say, her flight was delayed.

I then took myself off to Clontarf where I met my friend, went for a really glorious swim and then lunch. Definitely living the dream here.

Wednesday, July 13

Daniel was much better. We rebandaged his various cuts and bruises and I ferried him to the course in the car. I must say it is super convenient to be able to do these slightly unexpected things – like driving an injured child – without trying to manage work as well.

I had a nice relaxing lunch with my sister-in-law across the city and we caught up on family news including that her son has bleached his hair blond. It’s the year for 16 year old boys in the family to do weird things to their hair.

Daniel met a friend of his cousin’s on his course. Because Ireland is tiny.

Mr. Waffle and I went to see David Sedaris live in the National Concert Hall which was pretty good; he does a great job reading his work. I was very impressed by how witty and spontaneous he was in the Q&A at the end. There were four questions and they were all asked by women. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before in a mixed group.

Thursday, July 14

Michael and I went to Castletown House. Largely unsatisfactory as I have been there a couple of times before and, although I was happy to go again, I wasn’t desperate to do so, and Michael found it a bit dull. On the plus side, it’s not far. Definite highlight was playing the Marseillaise in the car for the day that was in it. Very rousing.

We picked up a new bike for Michael from the bike shop where, we found out the hard way, they now work a four day week. I am in favour in theory but in practice was faintly irate when I turned up on Tuesday and found it shut. It’s run by a French woman and, as Mr. Waffle pointed out, this is what you get when your bike shop is run by a French socialist. I had a chat with them in the shop and they said that it was a way to attract staff (full employment again). Apparently when they went from 6 days to 5 there was almost no change in takings. Not sure whether it will be the same for 5 to 4 but good for them, I hope it works.

Friday, July 15

Myself and Michael went to Avondale, home of Charles Stewart and Parnell and site of a new treetop walk. The expedition was a bit more successful than our trip to Castletown but the treetop walk is a little tame. Sadly, Avondale House itself, where I was keen to gain free entry with my newly acquired heritage card, was closed.

Michael says he can’t wait for the July 2022 pages of the family photo album which will just feature him.

Saturday, July 16

It was toasty though nothing like as toasty as it was about to become. Mr. Waffle and I went out for a nice dinner together; my brother got us a voucher for my birthday in March and I was pretty pleased with it.

Meanwhile, my sister in Cork has decided to clear out my Aunt’s shed of the junk of ages. I’m not sure what prompted anyone to keep this printer but I think it’s time has now definitively passed.

Sunday, July 17

It was very hot. Limerick won the hurling all-Ireland. No one was as hot as the aide de camp in full military regalia with gloves who was in the crowd with the President or the Taoiseach or whatever bigwig was giving out the cup. He was pictured in the crowd photo with the cup winners on the front page of the Irish times. The poor man looked like a tomato.

Monday, July 18

Oh God so hot. 30 degrees. Michael and I cycled in to Dublin castle to see the other half of that Piranesi exhibition which – joy – was fully air-conditioned. I thought we might die on the cycle though.

I went out to my friend who has a large house by the sea for book club and sitting in her beautiful green garden with cooling sea breezes was definitely a highlight of the day for all of us. Though she somewhat raised the bar on the food stakes (rule is always frozen pizza) by making her own pizza in a pizza oven in the garden. I hope that people will have forgotten this by the time they are tucking in to Goodfella’s pizzas in my house in October when I am scheduled to host.

Stay tuned for further thrilling updates.

Talking

11 July, 2022
Posted in: Princess

Recently herself said to me, “You know when people say that women talk a lot, what do they mean, compared to whom?”. “Men, maybe,” I said. “But we know that men talk more than women in meetings and lectures and tutorials and all kinds of settings,” she said. “We do,” I said. And I know it myself from living in the world and working in a male dominated environment. “They talk a lot compared to nothing,” she said. As someone who has always been gently mocked by others and, indeed myself, for talking a lot, this really made me think. I’m still thinking about it.

FFS

28 June, 2022
Posted in: Ireland, Middle Child, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

So Daniel was a bit under the weather yesterday. We tested him – negative. For this relief much thanks. Michael and I took the Italian for a walk up to Eagleâ€™s Crag.

We had lunch in Wicklow. That evening we went out to dinner and the theatre – Translations in the Abbey, not a great production I thought and a bit hard for the Italian but, you know, fine. Daniel felt a bit miserable so didnâ€™t come.

This morning Daniel announced that he felt pretty sick and a bit dizzy. He took another Covid test. I honestly despair. Of course it was positive. He and the Italian have been sleeping in the same bedroom. We can only pray at this point. Weâ€™ve moved poor Dan into a camp bed in the study. On mature reflection maybe we should have moved the Italian but weâ€™re committed now.

Meanwhile herself has received a communication from a close friend that he has Covid. I despair further. She tested negative this morning but has a bit of a sore throat so really who knows what tomorrow will bring? If we could just get the Italian – currently symptom free! – on a plane home, that would be great. His mother is looking at options. I mean if he has to stay here for 10 days in quarantine his English will be amazing but Iâ€™d say heâ€™d rather be in Ischia on holidays with his friends.

And our French exchange is due to arrive on Monday. Pray for me.

I Always Wait for the Longest Day and Then Miss It*

21 June, 2022
Posted in: Family, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Work, Youngest Child

So yesterday was my first day of not working. The weather was lovely. I was able to sit in the garden. I could chat face to face with Mr. Waffle and the boys from a safe distance. I could take my meals in the garden. I felt much better. My face got slightly sun burnt. Not normally a cause for rejoicing but it was a surprisingly pleasant day. I still, alas, have a cough and a runny nose but everyone else remains infection free. Today is a bit more overcast so I am dividing my time between the garden and the lovely isolation bedroom. I can see this becoming quite tedious. I think I will try another Covid test in the morning in the hope that maybe I am no longer infectious.

The view from my perch yesterday. A massive improvement on the day spent in the bedroom.

We had a long chat with herself yesterday. Logistics seem broadly sorted for her return from England; she won a mild prize (Â£50 book token) for an exam – not the end of year ones which she just finished but I have to hope that this is a promising sign; she has exhausting and exhaustive summer plans; and she should be home next weekend. Hurrah.

I ceremonially put on my work out of office and dealt with a few last emails.

My favourite aunt – my father’s sister – is 93 either yesterday or on Wednesday. My grandmother and the hospital disagreed on the date and the matter was never satisfactorily settled. I spoke to her on the phone. She seems perky I am pleased to report.

I got a message from Daniel at 8 this morning telling me he was on the bus to Offaly to spend the day with his friend from there. Rome, Edenderry, he’s covering all the exciting locations this week.

Michael and I are thrown on our own resources. Mr. Waffle was able to spend a good bit of time at home yesterday but today he is more tied up at work. Michael is finding working as my chef close to a full time job and he is not hugely enjoying it. But he is resigned. We played charades for a bit in the back garden – something than allows for distance – but this is all we could come up with.

Still, I am enjoying not being at work. Lots to look forward to, I feel.

*Small prize (honour and glory) if you know where this quote is from. It used to be one of the Princess’s favourite books and she would often quote from it.

Long Summer Ahead

20 June, 2022
Posted in: Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel, Twins, Youngest Child

Me (to Mr. Waffle) : In July you’ll be working, herself will be working and Daniel will be at his camp but Michael and I will be free. Maybe we’ll go away for a couple of days. Maybe to Northern Ireland.

Him: In July?

Let’s pause to sympathise with those who are responsible for promoting Northern Irish tourism.

The Best Laid Plans

19 June, 2022
Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Work, Youngest Child

Friday was my last day at work for a while. The last couple of weeks have been…intense culminating in a late night session running in to the early hours of Friday morning (3 am since you ask). I spent all day Thursday feeling a bit under the weather and as the evening wore on into Friday morning, I felt worse and worse. At one stage I went around closing all the windows in the room we were working in as I was cold although nobody else was. I’ve been a bit sick on and off over the past couple of weeks but repeated Covid tests were happily negative.

I decided to cycle home rather than get a taxi after the marathon session to 3 am because I didn’t want to abandon my bike. As I cycled home through the summer city night, I felt quite dizzy. Perhaps, I thought, because I was tired. I dragged myself from bed the next morning at 10 having passed a sickly night. I took a last Covid test and, wouldn’t you know it, it was positive. I broke the news to colleagues and I sincerely hope that I haven’t given it to anyone – so far so good but my window closing antics can’t have helped I fear – I got a laugh from one sympathetic message which said: “Conscientious to the end, getting sick in your own time.”

Yesterday and Friday I was absolutely miserable. Today, I’m ok really, it’s just like a head cold. I do wonder if I could have two things together because I’m surprised that Covid alone would make me so ill given that I have all the vaccinations.

On Friday night I was due to collect Daniel from the airport and hear all about his trip to Rome. Mr. Waffle was at a dinner. Mr. Waffle had a sober dinner and collected Dan later. I still haven’t been able to talk to him in person and I would like to give him a hug, now that he’s home. Preliminary indications are that he had a good time. He brought me Daim bars from the airport and Pecorino cheese from Rome and I have been sustaining myself on these delicacies. And everyone was right, he was able to get himself to and from Rome by plane with no difficulty even though the flights were delayed both ways.

Poor Michael has been entirely neglected by his mother for the past week and I was hoping to see a bit more of him over the weekend but alas, our only engagement is him leaving food parcels and pots of tea outside the bedroom door for me.

Yesterday, for my first day off, I was planning to go to a talk at the Dalkey book festival with a friend. She had booked lunch after, we were both really looking forward to it. Sadly, this is where I spent my Saturday.

I was due to get the ferry to England on Monday morning, stay with a friend in Shrewsbury and then collect herself and her belongings and come back home. We are considering a range of logistical alternatives and it will all be fine but I have to say, I was really, really looking forward to the trip. Oh well, another time. She was at her ball last night and I have photos which show a lot of imagination in relation to eye make up. Successfully, if you ask me.

Meanwhile I am confined to my bedroom. Mr. Waffle has brought up the desktop for me to play with, so expect regular blog updates. Though not a lot is happening to me so maybe not. The downstairs bathroom and the temporary shower in the utility room [we got it put in when we were doing the upstairs bathroom and it is so unutterably hideous that I had suppressed its very memory but it’s still there just waiting for its chance to shine] have been assigned for my use. Sometimes it’s hard not to feel judged.

Oh and today is Father’s Day. You would have to feel for Mr. Waffle given the very limited service that has been available.

Incidentally I am in the throes of discovering that every single chair is uncomfortable and reading in bed doesn’t have as much to recommend it as I had previously thought. My back is killing me.

And a last piece of news from next door. Their misfortunate daughter has Covid again. I think that’s the fourth time. As always, things could most assuredly be worse.