belgianwaffle

Belgian National Day


Posted in: Belgium

Item 1 – wherein I am reminded of Belgian paperwork

I got a change of address form to fill in from my (entirely depleted, alas) savings account recently. It had to be witnessed by a solicitor, a commissioner for oaths, a clergyman, a garda or some other pillar of society. It had to be accompanied by an original utility bill from my new address (which would be returned to me – what if I only get my bill online, you ask).

I got a friend who is a practising solicitor to sign the form. Was that sufficient? No it was not; she had failed to affix her office stamp to the form (largely because she was in my house and it was 9 at night and I thought it wouldn’t matter). The form was returned to me with the place for the stamp circled and the words NB written on it. Of course it did because my savings were with an institution which was channelling the Belgian State. It made me feel very nostalgic for Belgium. I dutifully cycled to the local Garda station and got the guard on duty to fill in the form and, crucially, stamp it. That did the trick.

Item 2 – Wherein I decide to get my hands on the special edition of Point de Vue covering the life of King Albert.

As you will know, of course, King Albert has decided to abdicate today in favour of his son Philippe. The excitement. Mr. Waffle and I watched a very long programme on RTBF about the life of King Albert (possibly prepared in anticipation of his demise) which covered his father’s war record (not good) and his life as a playboy (possible explanation of why Queen Paola always looks displeased) but yet, somehow, failed to entrance. This may have been because these juicier nuggets were intercut with the King and Queen visiting yet another flooded home/exciting civic event in the years 1993 to 2013.

Item 3 – Happy Belgian National Day

My eyes, my eyes!


Posted in: Work

As I sit beside my loving husband on the sofa flicking through tv channels, I require him to read aloud to me the names of the programmes as they appear briefly on the screen below. Alas, I cannot read this unfeasibly small (ahem) print.

I know that I need glasses. However, since beginning parental leave at the start of July I have found that I am more and more able to read the small print. Might this be to do with the fact that I have not been spending all day in front of a glowing screen? I think it could. What do you reckon?

Why it’s not lost until your mother can’t find it


Posted in: Middle Child, Twins

Daniel: Where are my shoes?
Me: Did you try your bedroom?
Him: Yes.
Me: Are you sure?
Him: Yes.
Me: If I go upstairs and find them in your bedroom, I will be displeased.
Him: I can’t find them.
I toil upstairs and find the shoes beside his bed.
Me: Dan, they were in your room right beside your bed – the most obvious place.
Him: Oh, I was looking in the unobvious places.

Sign of the Times


Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Reading etc.

Mr. Waffle is reading Trollope. He was working his way through some 1980s edition of “Framley Parsonage” with learned notes by a professor of literature from somewhere distinguished. A note referred to a line quoted in the text stating “I have not been able to find the source of this quotation”. Total time taken by Mr. Waffle to find the source of the quotation on the internet: 30 seconds. We’re all experts now.

Keeping Track of Relatives


Posted in: Princess

My friend to me: Poor Angelina Jolie, wasn’t she very brave all the same?
Me: Yes, wasn’t she?
Princess: Who is Angelina Jolie, wait, is she a cousin?

Discomfiting the Middle Aged since 2003


Posted in: Princess

My brother has a friend who is an actuary, I introduced him to my daughter thus, “This is your uncle’s friend, do you know what he does for a living? He works out when people will die.” He began to protest mildly but herself turned to him and said with great sangfroid, “You work in insurance then, do you?”