belgianwaffle

Tomorrow, I will be buying lottery tickets


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Work

This week:

The revenue finally admitted that, yes, we were right about our tax affairs and refunded two large cheques;

While going through cards I had kept (wedding, christenings, birthday) for many years but finally decided to throw out due to space restrictions, a crisp €50 note floated out of a christening card for the Princess where it had been waiting for 7 years to surprise us (belated thanks, Aunty Pat);

At work, a measure which I had strenuously resisted when initially decided upon in the summer and which, despite my objections, I have had to work hard on intermittantly ever since, has been dumped;

An emergency job which had to be finished for noon tomorrow and threatened to ruin many evenings this week, turned out not to be an emergency, allowing breathing space and bedtime stories;

A report which I wrote, and which has languished for an ominous length of time on the desk of the capo di tutti capi, has been approved for issue without amendment;

The man from the cable company rang up saying he had to put a cable underground through the overgrown side passage. I sighed mildly at the inconvenience and he said, there’s no point haggling, my best offer is free cable tv and internet for life. Really. I’m going to ask him to put that in writing.

Would you care to touch the hem of my garment?

A Project for the Long Winter Evenings


Posted in: Mr. Waffle

We have an art deco table that Mr. Waffle brought to our marriage. He had it when I met him. He picked it up cheap from a charity shop in Brussels. When I first met it, I didn’t like it and I regarded its entrance into my life with considerable misgivings but after ten years of eating at it, reading at it, doing homework at it, working at it and telling children to stop standing on it, I have grown fond of it. It is both too big and too dark for our tiny house but I wouldn’t think of saying goodbye to it now.

But, it was old when Mr. Waffle bought it, and, though sturdy, ten years of family life have taken their toll on its surfaces. I saw this article over on design sponge and thought I would try to “refresh my table”. And now, let me tell you about my progress.

First, Design Sponge says, get the following materials:

* Murphy’s Oil soap
* Watco Teak Oil
* Howard Feed-N-Wax
* fine sand paper (super fine can be used, as well)
* lint-free rags

So, after GAA on Saturday morning, I took the boys to Woodie’s DIY superstore. Michael refused to remove his studs and tripped up and down the aisles sounding like a manual typewriter on overdrive as I tried to find my materials. Unsurprisingly, Woodie’s didn’t have the American products the names of which I had printed out and I looked for alternatives. The woman at information was able to point me in the direction of teak oil and wax but she was baffled by the oil soap. We were unable to explore this in the detail I would have liked as the boys were tugging at me, anxious that I should not miss the display of 50 swaying Santas in aisle 3. As I hovered anxiously over different types of teak oil, Michael announced, “I want to do a wee,” seeing my face like thunder, he added nervously “but I can wait.” I wasn’t sure how reliable that information was so I swept up everything I could find and began to hunt for a substitute for oil soap. In desperation, I approached a man who looked like a builder and he kindly pointed me towards sugar soap and I decided to give it a go.

Last night, I decided to begin the process hauling my materials out from under the stairs. This is step 1:

1. Map out the “trouble” areas on your piece, such as stains, water damage, ink and scuff marks and sand them lightly. When working with wood, always remember to sand with the grain. If you start sanding like a crazy person, you will ruin your finish!

So, I started with the paint marks. Our childminder had let the children paint on the table without covering it with paper with predictable results. She also let them wear their school uniforms. When her idiocy was pointed out to her, she shrugged her shoulders and said that it would come out. The disadvantage of having a French childminder. I have never sanded before. I was a bit unclear as to what sanding lightly might consist of. The table has a diamond in the middle made out of four pieces of wood, this is set in a larger diamond, which in turn is surrounded by four pieces of wood and then another 4 and then the whole has a rectangular wooden frame. This means that the wood grain on the table top goes 24 different ways. This is not where the amateur sander should start. I have also discovered what “sanding like a crazy person” means and it is not at all as enthusiastic as you might think.

On to step 2:

2. When you’re done sanding, clean the piece with Murphy’s Oil soap. This gets all the dirt, dust and grime off the piece and leaves a nice, clean surface for you to work with.

The sugar soap seemed to do a good job and, aside from a mild concern about the apocalyptic warnings on the side of the packet as to what would happen to people who didn’t wear gloves when applying it, I felt very pleased with myself. Onwards to step 3:

3. Apply the Watco Teak Oil. Soak your rag and rub the entire piece down. Wait 10 minutes and with a clean rag, wipe off the excess oil. Depending on how thirsty the wood is, you can do two or three coats of the oil. One of the great things about using oil to refresh furniture is that it restores the color and grain and seals the finish from the inside out.

The teak oil was great stuff. I soaked my rag (finally a use for that torn sheet of Great Aunt Cecilia’s which was in the back of the hot press) and applied liberally. The warnings on the teak oil bottle were even more alarming than those on the sugar soap. Particularly the one about using it only in a well-ventilated area. As I sat down to watch the second half of the nine o’clock news, the table started to give me a headache. Obviously, the wood, which hadn’t been oiled in the 10 years we owned it and possibly not in the 70 years before that, was thirsty. On the other hand, the teak oil bottle announced that I could not reappy for 4 to 8 hours. I think Design Sponge’s instructions may have been designed for someone who a) could take the furniture to a well-ventilated area and who b) wasn’t relying on that furniture to be available 10 hours later for family breakfast.

I decided one coat of teak oil was enough which even at the time, I suspected might be a fatal mistake. I took Great Aunt Cecilia’s torn sheet and laid it out flat in the back garden where it could be rained on. Mr. Waffle felt I was taking too much to heart the instructions which warned of spontaneous combustion if the teak oil rag wasn’t dried flat but still, is that something you would want to store under the stairs?

I decided to be first up in the morning and see how matters stood. As it happened, I was up with one of the children during the night and I was tempted to go down at 5 in the morning and apply another coat of teak oil. Two things deterred me, firstly, the fact that my teak oil rag was out in the storm and secondly, I still had my teak oil headache from earlier. Needless to say, I was not first up and even, if I had been, I don’t really think I would have applied another coat of teak oil just before the children started in on their corn flakes.

So, on to step 4:
4. When you’re done oiling and the piece is dry to the touch, you’re ready for the final step. Apply the Howard Feed-N-Wax generously with a rag and after about 20 minutes, wipe off any excess.

I had to go to work after the cornflakes. On Wednesdays, I collect the children from school but today, Mr. Waffle kindly took on that task while I waxed the table. Depressingly, it looked a lot better before the wax went on. The wax seemed to highlight some old scars I hadn’t noticed and also the crazy person sanding. And the fact that two corners are really very worn. I regret not going for the second layer of teak oil now.

Epilogue:
Mr. Waffle washed the teak oil rag because he is a good kind husband. Unfortunately, he threw it in with the children’s bedclothes which now smell faintly of teak oil. This is almost certainly bad.

You do realise that this is only the table top and I still have to do sides, leaves, legs and the piece of wood connecting the legs?

Would you like to see the table top?

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See what I mean about constant use?

The Night of the Big Wind


Posted in: Ireland, Princess

The Princess is doing a project on hurricanes in school. Her father and I told her about the Irish hurricane; probably the only hurricane which has been used to test pension entitlements. I read her out the entry on the “big wind” from the Oxford Companion to Irish History:

“big wind”, the storm which ravaged Ireland, particularly the west, north and midlands, on the night of Sunday, 6 January 1839. High winds uprooted trees, destroyed buildings, killed livestock and, in built-up areas, spread fires. Although one newspaper put total deaths at 300 or more, a suvey of contemporary reports has found about 90 documented fatalities, 37 of them at sea. When old-age pensions were introduced in 1909 memories of the storm were one of the tests used to identify persons over 70.

Herself was spectacularly uninterested in this piece of national memory but the “big wind” looms large in the national imagination, you know, as kick-starting a series of disasters: first the big wind, then the famine, then mass emigration, then the failed 1848 uprising, then the sacrifice of our first born children to the subordinated bond holders and so on. You too may be uninterested in the “big wind” especially if you live in a country that has had a hurricane since 1839 but today is day 9 of Nablopomo and I am finding it a bit difficult to think of anything to post. Never mind, only 21 days to go.

In other news, today my sister is celebrating her birthday in Hawaii. I am not envious. Personally, I find November rain invigorating. Particularly on a bicycle.

Recession, what recession?


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

On a rainy Monday in November, I rang the Winding Stair to book a table for 3 for dinner. We’re fully booked but maybe we can squeeze in your group at 6 or 9.30? In the end we went to FXB’s and got the last table. If the IMF is on the doorstep, no one’s told the punters.

Compare and Contrast


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

I booked tickets for the national concert hall recently and a nice man answered the phone immediately, talked me through my options, I booked my tickets and they were sent out by post.

Today I wanted to book tickets for a show in the Olympia Theatre. The Olympia has decided to dispense with the person in the foyer who takes bookings and has instead entered into a deal with Satan. Sorry, ticketmaster. So I telephoned ticketmaster and made my way through the poorly organised menu – am I going to a particular location, family event or a concert? no, a play but there’s no button to press for that, go for location and know that this is going to end in tears but nevertheless say Olympia theatre clearly into the phone. I then waited 15 minutes until a man from the North of England came onto the phone to take my booking. A perfectly nice man, I hasten to add, and it’s hardly his fault that by the time his customers come on the line they are always a bit peeved after the long wait time. But he’s not exactly a local who knows the layout of the theatre, is he? In any event, the wretched thing was booked out.

There must be a moral here somewhere.

Another Belated Birthday


Posted in: Twins, Youngest Child

A description of Michael at 5 and a little bit.

He is very relaxed about school work. He is brilliant at cards and inclined to let his siblings win, if they seem cranky. He has an excellent memory and will, disconcertingly, bring up things you have said many months ago and demand that they be delivered now. He has a will of iron and he never lets anything go. He has, alas, started to bite his nails.

If you empty a box of lego on the table and ask Michael to find the one millimetre piece you need which is the only one in the box, he will find it in seconds.

His father sometimes calls him “bat boy” as when he gets upset or indignant his voice rises several octaves and his words are on a frequency too high for human ears. He is the smallest of the children and it sometimes feels that he acts as a punch bag for his heftier siblings, so he has much to complain about. But he doesn’t stint. He almost never resorts to physical violence but whether that is due to virtue or naked self-interest is unclear.

The other night he asked me who he could marry and whether it would be a boy or a girl. He then decided that he would marry a boy in his class and instantly began to worry that this 6 year old might choose someone else. A modern twist on a classic dilemma.

Michael demands instant resolution of all of his problems. This can be tiresome as when he grabs your chin, twists your face around and says sternly, “Listen to me.” When he puts something down, he frowns ferociously at the people in the room and says, “Nobody touch this.” Fortunately this hectoring is offset by considerable charm. He loves to chat to new people and will always be the first to volunteer when volunteers are sought from a room full of people – even if everyone else is an adult. Shyness seems unknown to him. However, for all his love of new people, he is not at all keen on new places and, when away, he pines for home. He is ferociously attached to things and watches me like a hawk to make sure I throw nothing out. The other day he said to me, “STOP, don’t throw that out!” “Michael, it’s the paper bag that your lunchtime sandwich was in.” He replied coldly, “Get it out of the bin, I could use it.”

Michael eats nothing other than fish fingers; yorkshire pudding; pasta with spinach and ricotta inside; breakfast cereal; bread and jam; porridge, Knorr chicken noodle soup and crisps. He does not like sweets or chocolate. Which is odd, surely.

And we love him.

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