belgianwaffle

Windy


Posted in: Dublin, Family, Ireland

Yesterday we went up to the Dublin mountains for a walk amid howls of dismay from the boys. They always object vociferously but they always seem to enjoy it when they get there. It was very windy at the top.

But sunny:

If a bit boggy:

We ran into one of the boys’ classmates who was out walking with his parents and brothers. The boys were all rather muted. “Was it strange to meet Eoghan here?” I asked. “Yes,” said Michael and he didn’t shout and say rude poems like he does in school.”

We went to Johnny Fox’s for lunch, possibly the most touristy place in Ireland outside Killarney. The walls are bedecked with photos of bemused visiting dignitaries as the protocol division of the Department of Foreign Affairs has clearly decided that no head of state can visit Ireland without taking in a trip to Johnny Fox’s. There were, however, two notable exceptions: there was no Barack Obama (although there was a picture of the owner’s niece having a pint with him in some other public house) and no Queen Elizabeth. On the plus side the Queen’s private secretary had written a letter saying how much she regretted not being able to take part in a “hooley night” in Johnny Fox’s. Quite.

Music to his Ears


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

Herself: Do you remember that Peanuts cartoon when Schroeder knows all about Beethoven?
Michael: Yes, he knows his date of birth and death and all the things he did in his life.
Daniel: Yes, like how he made himself deaf from listening to his own music.

Happy New Year


Posted in: Cork, Dublin, Family, Ireland

How have we been since December 24 you ask?

The Princess was very keen to go to midnight mass (at 9 on Christmas Eve) to sing with her choir. I wanted us all to go together but felt it was too late for the boys. She promised faithfully to go to mass again on Christmas day with all the family so herself and Mr. Waffle went to mass on Christmas Eve and she sang a verse of “Away in a Manger” on her own and she was delighted with herself. On Christmas Day, she dutifully went to mass again (as did her saintly father). The choir were given the day off in recompense for the night before so it was just the organist and the choir director who sang solo. The director spotted herself and asked her to do a reprise of her “Away in a Manger” after communion: “Do the first verse and we’ll see how you’re doing after that.” So away she went. The organist accompanied her quite brilliantly; speeding up and slowing down as necessary. To be fair to the Princess, she sang clearly and in tune. After mass, a number of people congratulated me on her performance including one woman who said that the Princess “made the mass”. A comment which was, theologically, probably not entirely appropriate but was nonetheless very welcome to the singer’s mother.

The presents went down well and Santa played a blinder. Daniel in particular was delighted with his Lego Harry Potter Years 5-7 which he had described as “urgent” on his Christmas list. Michael got a bop it which is a strangely compelling toy. Mr. Waffle has banned its use in the car. The Princess got a zoomer which is an electronic voice activated puppy. Like Siri, I think he is less comfortable with Irish accents than English or American ones. I heard her say repeatedly to Zoomer “Sit, sit, sit.” She achieved varying results. As he lay on his tummy at one point, I heard her say “That’s grand Zoomer” which I’d say was fairly baffling to Zoomer. She also got “The Screwtape Letters” at her request. On Christmas day, she said, “I feel bad going to mass after starting to read that book.” I pointed out that it was not a manual but a system of warnings. “Oh,” said she. This is clearly going to end well.

On the food front, those who said that turkey is a big chicken were right. It was all pretty painless though, oh Lord, there is a lot of it and my parents-in-law who came to us for Christmas dinner are not heavy eaters.

On the 26th we went orienteering with the cousins. It was a beautiful day and very sunny though icy.

It made a pleasant contrast to our trip last year when the weather was, frankly, inclement. Oh yes, a happy memory:

We have just returned from a trip to Cork where we stayed in our saintly friends’ house again – they were in Spain for Christmas so we moved in. We went down on the 27th amid apocalyptic storm warnings but all was well.

There were many more presents in Cork including a Skylanders swap it set which the boys played almost constantly. The highlight for the Princess was probably a trip to the ice rink. A year of roller blading means that she is better than all the rest of us combined on the ice. The boys enjoyed it somewhat less.

We found a dead dolphin on the beach (not included in atmospheric beach shot below):

On Sunday Michael was outraged to discover that he was expected to go to mass twice in one week. I assured him that mass in the country was much shorter than mass in Dublin. Mass was at half eleven and we arrived at 11.28. When we went in, they were on the “Our Father”. We had relied on the internet for our information but the internet had let us down. Clearly mass had started at 11. We slunk to our seats in shame (this was the wilds of east Cork, it’s not like we were going to get to another church) and left again at 11.40. Michael said, very perkily, “You’re right, mass is a lot shorter in the country.”

We drove back to Dublin yesterday. Under the stairs, there was a very strong odour of raw poultry. We had a very good look round but found nothing. I can’t help remember how we never found the head of the pigeon that the cat caught a couple of weeks ago. After that trauma, Mr. Waffle and I just managed to stay awake to midnight. Clearly a good omen for the new year. And today we mostly stayed around the house and some friends came to visit. The boys and I went to see “The Desolation of Smaug” where they were delightfully terrified. And no work or school until next week. Hurrah. Now, if only we could find the source of that smell.

My Goose is Cooked


Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

We are ready.

Mr. Waffle has picked up the turkey [tomorrow I will cook turkey for the first time – I am hoping the people who say it is a big chicken are right].

The Princess is singing a solo at the carol service tonight [a verse of Away in a Manger] and she is filled with trepidation but at least she is clean and so are her clothes – so a triumph, for me, anyhow. She may also be on television later, or she may be on the cutting room floor [she spoke to camera about what Christmas meant to her but so did winsome 4 year olds so she is pessimistic about making the cut]. We will gather around the television filled with anxious anticipation. Michael is resigned to going to the carol service which he will not enjoy as every time we sing around the house he puts his hands to his ears to “stop them bleeding”. He is also clean. Daniel is singing in the choir. He will be clean as soon as the Grinch is over.

I hope that you have a lovely, lovely Christmas and that at least one of your presents is what you always wanted.

DIY


Posted in: Mr. Waffle

I spent €142 on lampshades in IKEA. Nobody noticed the number of bulbs without shades but me; it was gnawing away at me. As soon as I got home, I put them all up, without assistance. Throughout the week there was a mild burning smell. I got home one day to find a blown bulb with a piece of melted plastic adhering to its surface. My husband was reproachful. He re-fitted all the bulbs. It turns out that these lampshades are trickier to fix than you might think. Do not mock the afflicted.

In other news, we made a last ditch attempt to mend the broken door handle with sugru having tried, and failed, several times with superglue. The problem is that it’s a door handle and you forget that it is supposed to be bonding and pull it off at a crucial moment. After each of us in turn had pulled off the sugrued door handle, Mr. Waffle covered it in a yoghurt pot and some threatening notes:

It was probably too little, too late. It didn’t stick anyhow and I have bought new door handles from China at €25 a pair. They are waiting under the stairs until after Christmas when we all feel stronger.

Did I mention that the bad weather has knocked slates off the roof as well? What are the chances of getting a roofer out between now and New Year? Pretty poor, I think we can agree. Never mind, we are so handy, I’m sure we can sort something out ourselves [insert snort of derisive laughter here].

There is NO Pension Crisis or Further Christmas Cheer


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Last Sunday we had people around for mulled wine and mince pies from 4 to 6. The invitations specified that children were welcome. Our friends have a lot of children. We totted up that there were 70 odd people here many of whom were 15 or under (nobody between 15 and 35 though, that demographic was clearly at an entirely different party). I quite enjoyed herding mortified teenagers into the utility room and forcing them to speak to each other. We’d put out some beanbags to make it less utilitarian and this was before the pigeon had died a bloody death on the floor so it wasn’t as bad as it sounds. Herself had pinned this to the door:

Note correct use of the apostrophe, though clearly following a period of reflection.

I deployed herself and her friends to wend through the crowds offering mince pies and cocktail sausages. A friend of Mr. Waffle’s reports the following conversation:

Friend: Is that panettone*?
Herself: No,it’s stollen*.
Friend: Is it nice?
Herself: Well, it has marzipan; some people don’t like it or are allergic to it.
Friend: I’ll try some.
Herself: On your own head be it.

*It’s far from panettone and stollen that we were reared.

Santa visited the school. Not the real Santa, you understand; just a man from up the road with a luxuriant beard. Nevertheless, at mass this morning when it came to the sign of peace, Michael jumped a mile when the man in the seat behind poked him in the ribs and said “Ho, Ho, Ho”. Yes, indeed, substitute Santa was at mass this morning. Herself had been muttering bitterly that Santa was a sexist cad as he gave the girls knitting and the boys small table footballs but since she had managed to persuade someone to swap with her (unlikely but true) my hopes that she wouldn’t raise the issue with substitute Santa in the church porch were realised.

Last, but my no means least, there is a man I found on the internet who explains wordpress to me. He did a bit of work on my blog [this here is a technical masterpiece, I’ll have you know]. I asked for a bill for his latest labours and this is the reply that I got:

All done. Very easy.
Instead of paying me, could you throw 10 euro to your favourite charity.

It’s been a bit grim for charities this Christmas as there has been a lot of media coverage about money from fund-raising going to top up already large salaries for senior staff. While this is certainly not true for all charities it has hit them all; the man [volunteer] from the Vincent de Paul who spoke at mass last Sunday found himself obliged to say that none of the money raised in the collection would go to top-ups. I felt for him.

All this notwithstanding, I am feeling a definite Christmassy glow. Today it snowed (well, sleeted); yesterday I went to a party and got a blister on my finger while constructing an IKEA gingerbread house with melted sugar; tomorrow is my last day at work before Christmas. Lucky Mr Waffle and the children finished up on Friday so they will be bonding tomorrow and possibly picking up the turkey while I labour.

It’s all good (apart from the blister).