belgianwaffle

Reading etc.

Stalking


Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Reading etc.

So, you know Dooce (and, as I once memorably read somewhere, if you don’t, you’re my mother, so please call me, I want to talk to you). Well, I read Dooce and once I got a reply to an email from her and I kept it in my inbox for ages even though I normally delete email so fast that I find myself rooting around in deleted items for flight confirmations. I’ve never been a fan of anyone before (no interest in musicians, no particular interest in authors, only their output, little interest in the private lives of actors or other random famous people), but I am now. It is disconcerting.

Anyhow, a while ago, she said that she had seen herself as one of the five top bloggers in the Observer and she was pleased. I deduced that, what with living in Salt Lake City and that, she did not have a copy of the Observer in her sweaty little paw as I did. So, I decided to send her my copy of the Observer magazine in an attempt to win her heart. This is the kind of thing fans do.

Mr. Waffle and I went to the post office together (the family that posts together stays together or something like that). We had the following conversation.

Mr. Waffle: What’s this?

Me (embarrassed): It’s the Observer for Dooce [insert explanation re bloggers article] – she said she was interested.

Him : That’s nice, she emailed and asked if you’d post it and you’re sending it to her.

Me (failing to explain that I’ve only ever had the one email and, in fact, this is an entirely unsolicited and, perhaps, slightly creepy act of goodwill); Mmm.

Post office lady weighing the envelope: That will be 9 euros.

Me and him (yelping): 9 Euros!

Post office lady (apologetically): It’s a non-standard size.

Him: Could we sellotape over the edge?

Her: Well, you used to be able to do that but now they don’t accept that, it’s the European norm.

Me: Could we buy a standard size envelope here?

Her (apologetically) : No, the envelopes we have on sale are not standard European size.[I am not making this up].

My lovely husband: Feck it, we’ll send it anyway, go on, I’ll pay for it.

All I can say is, I hope that when I find out her address and we go to visit her in Salt Lake City, she will put us all up. Do you think that she’s scared?

News from Dublin


Posted in: Reading etc.

Ireland is awash with festivals, particularly in the Summer. There was a not particularly funny, spoof article about this in the Irish Times recently. I did like this one though:

“And last but not least, we can’t go without mentioning…

FESTIVAL OF CLICHE

(in the picturesque town that’s a gateway to a world just waiting to be discovered)

One of the country’s longest-running festivals celebrates its 25th anniversary with a mouthwatering line up. This festival has it all or, if it’s adventure you’re after, something for everyone. If it’s festival-going that you want, look no farther than this. Something for all the family. Why not get away from it all? Book early to avoid disappointment. You can’t take a horse to water but you can enjoy the Festival of Cliche.”

Meanwhile, in the births column:

PERFECTLY ORDINARY SURNAME – A beautiful baby boy born on March 4, 2008…. to delighted parents Kathryn and Barry. Dashel Zice treasured grandson for Sean and Mary etc. etc.

Dashel Zice?

Technological disaster


Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Princess, Reading etc., Twins, Youngest Child

Michael was sick today and, this morning, he knocked over the telly while whizzing round the room on his little car. Not sick enough, clearly.

Anyhow, this afternoon when I was in charge, I promised Peter Pan to himself and his sister (poor old Daniel was off at the creche) but it turned out that the telly didn’t like being pushed over by Michael’s car and it resolutely refused to come on. It’s not like it owes us much; Mr. Waffle bought it second hand in 1995.
I moved the couch and sat them in front of the computer. Typing T’choupi into google leads to a series of cartoons on youtube about the wholesome mole. I put herself in charge of the computer and tripped in and out between the kitchen where I was making dinner and the invalid on the couch and his sister. All went pretty well though I had to turn off the rap version of Noddy she’d managed to click on and some fairly alarming looking anti McDonald’s stuff.

I told my loving husband later.

Him (outraged): You left our four year old to wander round the internet unsupervised?

Me (defensively): She’s nearly five.

Finally, I have taken this from Jando. I have reproduced her post below because there is a risk that you might not follow the link and this is the funniest thing I have seen in quite some time. I particularly liked the bit about the goats.

Before you decide to have children, try these 14 simple tests.

Test 1
Women : To prepare for pregnancy, put on a dressing gown and stick a beanbag down the front. Leave it there for 9 months.
After 9 months remove 5% of the beans.

Men: To prepare for children, go to a local chemist, tip the contents of your wallet onto the counter and tell the pharmacist to help himself.
Then go to the supermarket. Arrange to have your salary paid directly to their head office. Go home.
Pick up the newspaper and read it for the last time.

Test 2
Find a couple who are already parents and berate them about their methods of discipline, lack of patience, appallingly low tolerance levels and how they have allowed their children to run wild.
Suggest ways in which they might improve their child’s sleeping habits, toilet training, table manners and overall behavior.
Enjoy it. It will be the last time in your life that you will have all the answers.

Test 3
To discover how the nights will feel:
1. Walk around the living room from 5pm to 10pm carrying a wet bag weighing approximately 4 – 6kg, with a radio turned to static (or some other obnoxious sound) playing loudly.
2. At 10pm, put the bag down, set the alarm for midnight and go to sleep.
3. Get up at 12pm and walk the bag around the living room until 1am.
4. Set the alarm for 3am.
5. As you can’t get back to sleep, get up at 2am and make a cup of tea.
6. Go to bed at 2.45am.
7. Get up again at 3am when the alarm goes off.
8. Sing songs in the dark until 4am.
9. Put the alarm on for 5am. Get up when it goes off.
10. Make breakfast.
Keep this up for 5 years. LOOK CHEERFUL.

Test 4
Dressing small children is not as easy as it seems:
1. Buy a live octopus and a string bag.
2. Attempt to put the octopus into the string bag so that no arms hang out.
3. Time allowed for this: 5 minutes.

Test 5
Forget the BMW and buy a practical 5-door wagon.
And don’t think that you can leave it out on the driveway spotless and shining. Family cars don’t look like that.
1. Buy a chocolate ice cream cone and put it in the glove compartment and leave it there.
2. Get a coin. Insert it into the CD player.
3. Take a box of chocolate biscuits; mash them into the back seat.
4. Run a garden rake along both sides of the car.

Test 6
Getting ready to go out:
1. Wait
2. Go out the front door
3. Come back in again
4. Go out
5. Come back in again
6. Go out again
7. Walk down the front path
8. Walk back up it
9. Walk down it again
10. Walk very slowly down the road for five minutes.
11. Stop, inspect minutely and ask at least 6 questions about every piece of used chewing gum, dirty tissue and dead insect along the way.
12. Retrace your steps
13. Scream that you have had as much as you can stand until the neighbours come out and stare at you.
14. Give up and go back into the house.
15. You are now just about ready to try taking a small child for a walk.

Test 7
Repeat everything you say at least 5 times.

Test 8
Go to the local supermarket.
Take with you the nearest thing you can find to a pre-school child.
A full-grown goat is excellent. If you intend to have more than one child, take more than one goat.
Buy your weekly groceries without letting the goat(s) out of your sight.
Pay for everything the goat eats or destroys.
Until you can easily accomplish this, do not even contemplate having children.

Test 9
1. Hollow out a melon
2. Make a small hole in the side
3. Suspend the melon from the ceiling and swing it side to side
4. Now get a bowl of soggy cornflakes and attempt to spoon them into the swaying melon while pretending to be an aeroplane.
5. Continue until half the cornflakes are gone.
6. Tip the rest into your lap, making sure that a lot of it falls on the floor.
7. You are now ready to feed a 12-month old child.

Test 10
Learn the names of every character from the Wiggles, Barney, Teletubbies and Disney.
Watch nothing else on television for at least 5 years.

Test 11
Can you stand the mess children make? To find out:
1. Smear peanut butter onto the sofa and jam onto the curtains
2. Hide a fish behind the stereo and leave it there all summer.
3. Stick your fingers in the flowerbeds and then rub them on clean walls.
4. Cover the stains with crayon.
5. How does that look?

Test 12
Make a recording of someone shouting ‘Mummy’ repeatedly.
Important: No more than a 4 second delay between each Mummy – occasional crescendo to the level of a supersonic jet if required.
Play this tape in your car, everywhere you go for the next 4 years.
You are now ready to take a long trip with a toddler.

Test 13
Start talking to an adult of your choice.
Have someone else continually tug on your shirt hem or shirt sleeve while playing the Mummy tape listed above.
You are now ready to have a conversation with an adult while there is a child in the room.

Test 14
Put on your finest work attire.
Pick a day on which you have an important meeting. Now:
1. Take a cup of cream and put 1 cup of lemon juice in it
2. Stir
3. Dump half of it on your nice silk shirt
4. Saturate a towel with the other half of the mixture
5. Attempt to clean your shirt with the same saturated towel
6. Do not change, you have no time.
7. Go directly to work

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Posted in: Middle Child, Reading etc., Twins, Youngest Child

We have a copy of Walt Disney’s “Lady and the Tramp” in book form and the boys love it. We also have a book of Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast” and this is also much loved. I’m not sure where they came from but they are among the boys’ favourite books despite our constant attempts to plug works we prefer.

The boys, have, however, totally confused the two works. As a special treat we got out “Beauty and the Beast” on DVD and they were transfixed. At first sight of the beast, they were both terrified and sat there pointing at the screen saying “Ladybeast, Ladybeast!”

Reading


Posted in: Reading etc.

Last November, during the NaBloPoMo odyssey somebody recommended Robertson Davies to me. I can’t remember who it was but I am very grateful.

I have just finished “The Deptford Trilogy” and it was excellent. Mr. Davies writes beautiful, spare, precise prose and it is a constant joy to read.

I learnt a lot about Canadians. I had always thought of them as like Americans only saner and with better healthcare and gun control. I also thought of them as French speaking Catholics; I mean, I knew there were a lot of English speakers there too but Quebec had unduly coloured my view of the country. Now I know that there are whole swathes of Canada that come from the same dour Scottish strain that is visible in Northern Ireland and it has given me a very different feel for the country and one that is much more nuanced.

The amazing thing, to me, is that I had never heard of Robertson Davies, even though one of his books was shortlisted for the Booker prize. Even though a Canadian friend said, that he was regarded as the father of Canadian literature. And I am not alone, very few of my friends had heard of him. Shame!

I have also just finished “An Accidental Diplomat” by Eamon Delaney. This is not a great work of literature though it was a bestseller. It’s possible that most of the copies were bought by officials in the Irish Department of Foreign Affairs. It gives an account of the author’s time as a junior diplomat in the Department in the late 80s to mid 90s and names many names. Apparently, there was a feeling in Foreign Affairs that the real problem with the book was that it did not contain an index. I started it years ago and gave up in annoyance. I came back to it, however, and found it gently humourous (very like a blog, not so much like a book – dreadfully poorly edited too, loads of typos and repetition) and I feel more indulgent to the author who this time round seems like a very young man from a very long time ago rather than an irritating cocky know it all only the same age as me. That’s middle age for you, I suppose.

And finally, I have also finished Seamus Deane’s “Reading in the Dark”. I thought as I started it – I am never reading a book by a poet again.  Opened at random at page 132, may I offer you the following:  “the rain dripping from us in clock-steady drops”; “small artilleries of thunder rattled in the distance”; “the Sacred Heart lamp burning in its chained vessel above the altar:crimson, scarlet, crimson, steady, flickering, steady”.   I am not saying that the language isn’t beautiful but it’s a bit rich and indigestible for an entire novel.  In the end, though, I was seduced by the book, it has a good plot and some wonderful set-pieces: ghost stories and, in particular, the maths class chapter which is masterful.

Finally, finally, I was away and I bought Mr. Waffle back a present of this book “Affluenza“; I’d seen it well reviewed and I thought that the premise was interesting, namely, that we’re all bitten by a bug which makes us spend money unnecessarily.  Mr. Waffle looked at the offering.  “But you hate Oliver James“, he said.  “It’s written by that Oliver James, the man from the Observer?” I asked in horror.  “Yup, and,” he said, flipping over the back of the book, “he’s 8.99 better off thanks to you.”  Blah.

Cinema as Art


Posted in: Reading etc.

We went to the cinema last Saturday night (No Country for Old Men – not bad, thanks) and we sat near a trendy woman with a red leather jacket. To be precise we sat one seat away from her. On the far side of Mr. Waffle another couple ensconced themselves leaving one seat empty. The woman with the red leather jacket leaned across and said to me that we should move closer to her as otherwise there would be two single seats. I knew she was right but I was annoyed. She was smug dammit.

At the start of the film, I hauled out my packet of Maltesers from my handbag. I know some people don’t like you eating in the cinema, but, you know, they sell them in the foyer, so it can’t be a huge surprise that other people buy them. It may not be right, but there you have it and at least I wasn’t eating crisps. Leather jacket sighed audibly. I had baleful thoughts. I sucked through my packet of maltesers and crunched the last one. Leather jacket sighed and her partner leaned across and asked me to stop crunching. The worst part of it was that I could kind of see their point but I still hated them for making it. Cranky, moi?