My sister: You haven’t posted on the blog in a while.
Me: But you know what I’m doing, I talk to you all the time.
Her: I like to see the spin you put on it.
Siblings
Christmas Humour
My sister’s friend is the daughter of a former professor of mathematics who is also a well-known writer of joke books. An unusual combination but why not?
My sister was at her friend’s parents house over Christmas and told the author a joke she had heard. He said that in his line of work he hears a lot of jokes and most of them aren’t new and the ones that are new aren’t funny but that this one was both new and funny. Here it is and I’m sorry if you’ve heard it before.
I am the Ghost of Christmas Future Perfect Subjunctive, I am hear to tell you what would have happened were you not to have changed your ways.
Apparently in their house, the Wise Men travel to the crib from across the room as is the case in many other houses. I’m pretty sure though that it’s only in the retired maths professor’s house that the distance is measured for every day so that travelling at a constant speed they arrive in the crib on January 6.
Christmas Round Up
Daniel read at the carol service on the Friday evening before Christmas and he was absolutely fantastic. I was very proud of him. Mr. Waffle tends to regard our children’s successes and failures as their own but I regard everything as a reflection on me and I basked vicariously in his glory. The carols were nice too.
On Sunday we had our Christmas drinks party. Every year I am in the horrors in prospect and then quite pleased with it when in progress and delighted with myself afterwards. This year was no different. We had a moment of suprise when Daniel said, as I stood poised with a toothpick over a cocktail sausage, “I think those are the ones Michael puts in his mouth.” “And puts back in the box?” I asked in horror. Apparently so. Anyhow we had an unopened packet and we spoke to Michael about toothpicks being a single use item so a win overall.
On December 23, I queued outside Sheridan’s cheesemongers in town for 20 minutes. It was a small price to pay as my sister-in-law was making Christmas dinner but I think we can take it as a sign that the Dublin economy is still doing just fine.
It was a busy couple of days. For all of us, apparently.
On Christmas Eve, the children and I met and an old friend of mine and his children. We’ve been doing this for about 10 years now so that makes it a festive tradition, I suppose. I found old pictures of when the children were smaller and he and I were quite nostalgic. My children were politely indifferent.
When we got home, Mr. Waffle told us that the toilet seat upstairs had broken. I thought it a bit unlikely that he would succeed on his hunt for a replacement on Christmas Eve but I underestimated him. A Christmas miracle.
We went to midnight mass (starts at 9, over by 10.30) and so we had a pretty relaxed Christmas morning with no one up before 9.
Christmas presents this year were pretty successful overall. I rolled over Mr. Waffle’s subscription to the Economist and did not get him a copy of “Surveillance Capitalism” about which I had given strong hints and which filled him with fear because all he really wanted was the new Ross O’Carroll Kelly book which I dutifully delivered.
As we were going out to dinner herself did us all an amazingly elaborate Christmas breakfast which we all enjoyed though she was slightly frazzled. Christmas lunch with the cousins was very good and entirely labour free although Mr. Waffle and I felt a bit guilty; we’ll have them around for dinner in the new year.
Mr. Waffle and the children refused to go orienteering on St. Stephen’s Day but we did go for a walk so there was that. I was not as pleased by the situation as this picture might lead you to believe but my children were an absolute delight.
We did very little on the 27th and headed down to Cork on the 28th. We decided to have lunch in Milano’s in town when we got to Cork before pushing on to grace the relatives with our presence. I was ill-prepared for parking in town. I decided I would test out the city council’s park by phone service, it is not effective. I am €10 poorer and I still had to scoot off to buy parking discs – I met two traffic wardens and they told me that the park by phone service was down; where I might buy discs and that they would not clamp my car while I was gone. This is perhaps not fascinating but I had to get it off my chest. It ended up costing me €20 for an hour’s parking.
Nonetheless we went on to my parents’ house in reasonably good order. My sister and brother always get very extravagant presents for the children (and indeed me) and this year the children, yet again, cleaned up.
I gave my father a new cap – sorely needed – and it may have been my most successful present of the year. He wore it to mass on Sunday and we both thought it looked pretty good. He was chirpy on Sunday and as he and I drove back from mass together (leaving the others to toil on foot) we reprised together some of the more popular carols performed by the choir.
My brother, the boys and I went ice skating together which was moderately successful. We went to Kinsale for a walk with my sister. As I said cheerfully to my little group as I ushered them in to the car, “It’s not actually raining.” The children dutifully posed for the now traditional “caution children” shot.
After an hour or so patiently waiting outside in the damp, we finally got our lunch in the Bulman. While we were queuing, my sister’s friend came with her husband, her five year old, her brother and her 83 year old father. We chatted. Mr. Waffle suggested that we should give them our place in the queue. The rest of us were heartless. He is a better person than us but we were hungrier than him. Happily we were all seated at more or less the same time so the terrible ethical dilemma did not arise. Then we went on to Charles Fort which, alas, was closed. Curse you, OPW.
My sister and I went for a wander around the craft shops of the town and Mr. Waffle and the children went home (having driven to Kinsale in two cars which was handy if not ecologically sound). By the time I got back to Cork that evening, I was starting to feel ill. I was sick as a dog last night and was not wellfor our drive back to Dublin this morning but here I am in the comfort of my own home with as much lemsip at my disposal as I may need to see in the new year.
A very happy new year to you all and hope Christmas went well for you too.
Weekend Round-Up
A weekend filled with adventure and excitement etc. On Friday night, Mr. Waffle, the Princess and I went to see a local theatre troop do a Christmas special which was good in parts. Inevitably, herself knew one of the cast who had videoed her doing various worthy things in youth organisations over the years.
On Saturday, Daniel had a match miles away and Michael had his drama showcase. Michael’s drama went well, although Daniel was not delighted to hear another child address Michael with the words, “As your twin…” in the play. Daniel lost his match but felt he had played reasonably well so was cheerful enough notwithstanding his defeat. Sadly Michael has decided that he has had enough drama and doesn’t want to sign up for next term. Alas.
Then last night, my sister came up from Cork and joined us for dinner. Last weekend the Princess was in Cork and her phone died. While her cruel parents felt she would manage, her kindly Cork relatives decided to club together and get her a new iPhone X as a Christmas present which was delivered early (last night) on the basis that she couldn’t be expected to survive phoneless for much longer. And even though my brother who is a shameless haggler in all circumstances managed to get the shop to knock €75 off the price, it was still quite the expensive present. Herself was ecstatic as well she might be.
Today Daniel read at mass and he was absolutely wonderful. After mass, Michael lent across to me and said, “Wasn’t Daniel supposed to be reading today?” He had completely failed to notice his brother reading which does make me wonder whether any of the service at all seeps in.
This afternoon, herself was off on a Christmas baking extravaganza with her friends, the boys had their friends over to play “Call of Cthulhu” [“Dungeons and Dragons adjacent” is how herself describes it, probably all you need to know] and I went off to my bookclub Christmas meeting which was quite delightful.
And now my sister is going to call in again having visited IKEA (which she loves and is not available in Cork) and will doubtless come bearing further gifts. Very satisfactory. And how was your own weekend?
Awkward
My brother: There was an event in the golf club last night for members who died during the year and I went along.
Me: That was nice, was there anyone you knew there?
Him: Yes, lots of people and they said nice things about Mum. Do you remember her friend, M from up the road?
Me: Yes, she died at almost the same time as Mum.
Him: Well her son was there as well and I was talking to him.
Me: Oh I don’t know the sons at all, they were all a good bit older than us.
Him: Did you tell me one of them died?
Me: No, I never heard that.
Him: Well, somebody told me that.
Me: I’m sure I’d have heard. I don’t think any of them died.
Him: Well, yes, I know that now.
Cork
I was in Cork at the weekend with herself. Nothing really happened but here we are in November and I have committed to posting every day. It’s only the 11th and I’m exhausted already.
I took herself to the cemetery to see my mother’s grave and almost missed it because the enormous overgrown hydrangea bush nearby, which is a handy marker, had been chopped down by somebody in an excess of enthusiasm. We went at dusk and it was quite beautiful. I couldn’t help feeling that had she known, my mother would have been delighted to be interred in such an interesting cemetery.
My father and my aunt were pretty remarkably perky. I made herself consult with my father for his live take on the rise of fascism for her history essay but as he was only 15 in 1940, it was a bit underwhelming – he just summarised what we knew already – but he did comment that his views were formed in part by the papers his aunts and uncles took: the Daily Mail and, oh God, the Express. I can only rejoice, I suppose, that he himself is a Daily Telegraph reader.
We went out on Friday night for my sister’s birthday which was a bit disastrous as both she and my brother were quite ill and herself was exhausted. We ate our way around Cork over the weekend. After our ill-fated dinner on Friday night, herself and myself had a satisfactory breakfast in the Crawford, then picked up lunch ingredients in the Market and in the evening she had chips and Tanora from Jackie Lennox’s; the following morning we had breakfast in the Nano Nagle cafe (aside, is it too early for the return of Hanora as a girl’s name?). All in all a culinary tour de force.
How was your own weekend? Much food?