belgianwaffle

Death Duties


Posted in: Ireland, Work

The mother of a woman who works with me died yesterday afternoon. The removal was in the midlands, this evening, from 4 to 7. I left work at 4.30, cycled home like the wind and hopped into the car at 5.

My theory that remote working means that there is now no traffic in Dublin on Mondays was put to the test and found sorely wanting. It took me an hour to get out of the city and then when I finally got on the motorway there was dense fog.

As I drove along (carefully, slowly) I thought there was a very good chance that the removal would be over by the time I arrived which led to a certain amount of tension. And I had to stop for petrol.

I arrived at 18.55 and the hearse was outside the funeral home with the boot open but still there. The deceased had nine children (including my colleague) and innumerable grandchildren so there was still a queue of people out the door waiting to sympathise (my colleague said they had been shaking hands non stop since 4). What a relief.

My colleague who is a lovely older lady (so few people I can say this about now – her mother was 90) seemed really glad to see me which was the point of the exercise and I was glad I went. Nevertheless, I would like my next funereal duties to be in Dublin if at all possible.

Weekend Round Up


Posted in: Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Twins, Work

Gym update (not from me obvs): Dan reports that Dermot Bannon was on the gym TV on Saturday and not only did Dan recognise him but also the episode Mr. Bannon was presenting. Definitely my fault. And I’m making them all watch The Traitors too. Quality television for the mind, that’s me.

I went into town yesterday and parked my bike in a perfectly normal fashion and came back to this psychotic situation.

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Today has been a glum day as I have spent hours avoiding doing my project work for a course I am doing at work (nobody made me do it, I volunteered for it like a complete fool); two hours actually doing the project work; and, when I gave up in despair, about 5 minutes realising that there is at least another four hours work in this (which will have to be done this week) and that there is an examination in April which, based on my meagre understanding of the course so far, is going to require a bit more studying than I have done to date (i.e. none).

We have selected our books for the year for Monday night book club – here it is in case you are interested and have any views on the books (“Death at the Sign of the Rook” is the new Kate Atkinson).

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A lot of them look a bit worthy despite everyone’s best intentions. And I’ve just realised that I have to read the book for my Sunday book club this week having failed to do so over Christmas. I may have to call a moratorium on all these hard books and go back to re-reading Georgette Heyer for the month. It is proving a long January. And I am out playing tennis once a week too which, in the current climactic conditions, feels like masochism. I honestly think my hobbies may be going to kill me.

The only bits of good news from this weekend are:

  1. Mr. Waffle and Dan went to a match, their team won and they were on the telly in the crowd shot (perhaps not a great shot of Mr. Waffle but fame is fame).
  2. When I was in town yesterday, I got a text from Mr. Waffle saying “I have booked dinner for us in a mystery location on Valentine’s night.” I have spent my whole life saying Valentine’s day is a cod and you should go out some other night and I really thought I meant it. Clearly, however, I did not as I was thrilled to the core of my being by this text.

How was your own weekend?

O Canada


Posted in: Family, Princess

Due to the very generous citizenship policy of Canada my husband (who was born in Canada but left aged 2) and all three of my children (who haven’t even been to Canada) are Canadian citizens. Herself went through the hoops required (I mean, fair enough, hoops are appropriate given her tenuous link to the motherland) and her Canadian passport arrived today. A nice passport, I must say, they’ve gone for navy with a certain amount of maple leaf and a very elaborate gold crest. If she moves to Canada, it will make London seem next door. Let’s hope she doesn’t move to Canada, shall we?

I told her it arrived and after preliminary excitement I said I would put it in her room. These were my instructions:

Thank you! Put all in white box under bed, side nearest window (my filing system). There should be a piece of paper on top saying “do not throw away”: reaffix.

There are times when she reminds me vividly of my father. Can I say again that my reputation for throwing things out has been very much exaggerated?

Is There Snow in the Mountains?


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Mr. Waffle

Mr. Waffle and I like many, many Dublin residents went up to the Dublin mountains to have a look at the snow today. Was the traffic awful? Yes. Was it worth it? Also yes. We went up to the Military Road which was closed and walked along it. Some cars also came along and slid around. Added thrills. Still, worth it.

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Employment!


Posted in: Princess

Herself has secured gainful employment commencing September 2025. Let us rejoice. In London. Oh well.

Is there anybody out there?


Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland, Reading etc.

My father used to listen to the shipping forecast at night. I imagine he got into the habit when he was younger and sailed a lot.

When we moved house in the early 1980s something about the way the walls of the house conducted sounds meant that his radio seemed louder in my room than in his. I resigned myself to hearing the shipping forecast boomed into my bedroom. I’ve always been a good sleeper which was just as well.

When he was old and deaf, the volume was quite terrifying. When I stayed in Cork, I would sometimes sleep with my head under the pillow to avoid being startled awake by the sounds of “Sailing By” which honestly sounded like it was being played live in my bedroom.

Since he died, I don’t think that I’ve listened to the shipping forecast. Recently, however, my podcast feed suggested a show on the shipping forecast and I had a listen on my commute home for nostalgia’s sake. It made me unexpectedly sad and I cycled home with tears streaming down my face.

Then, I came across this Dickens quote:

There are very few moments in a man’s existence when he experiences so much ludicrous distress as when he is in pursuit of his own hat.

I was reminded vividly of the time a daring gust of wind blew my father’s flat cap off his head and – ultimately – into the river. He was extremely cross but the rest of us were helpless with laughter which, obviously, didn’t make him any less cross.

Maybe he’s sending me a sign.