belgianwaffle

The Thrills of the Return to the Office


Posted in: Work

People are more or less back to the office. Not everyone all the time, but almost everyone some of the time. It’s a bit weird after two years largely alone on the fourth floor to now have a full complement of people outside my door.

I wandered out on to the floor and as I did so, the scent of Davidoff Cool Water assailed my nostrils. It brought me back in an instant to the time in the mid-90s that I spent in Bosnia – Davidoff was popular and I had a large bottle at my disposal while I was there. I was doing election monitoring just after the war. I was in Banja Luka which is an old spa town and a very Austro-Hungarian empire town. I didn’t know what to expect really when I was going but I certainly didn’t think that I would regret not bringing my tennis racquet. It turned out that there was a country club type place with, inter alia, tennis courts and all of the international election monitors spent a lot of our free time there. In the days before the internet, our ignorance was legendary and our ability to advance plan much less developed. I just didn’t expect that war torn Bosnia would be a normal place as well, if you see what I mean. I might tell you all I can remember another time but it all flooded vividly back to me as I stood on the floor sniffing.

I turned to my colleague, “Davidoff, Cool Water?” I said. “No Clinique Happy,” said he.

Oh How We Laughed


Posted in: Work

I had a difficult meeting before Easter where my colleagues and I had to hold the line against quite the onslaught from another organisation. One of the people on the other side of the virtual table was a former colleague from a third organisation (stay with me here, Ireland is small). It was all very civil but distinctly trying. I heard my phone bleep in the middle of the meeting but ignored it as I continued to batten down the metaphorical hatches.

When I got off, I checked my message. It was from my former colleague and it said, “You’re like the Spartans at Thermopylae, Anne”. Roll on my sabbatical.

Post


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

During the week I got a blank postcard with my name and address on one side and a picture of Costa Rica on the back. I was quite baffled. Conversation with my sister revealed the following:

  • She bought a postcard for me and addressed it when she was in Costa Rica in 2013.
  • She never sent it.
  • She brought it home.
  • Her partner’s mother has a friend who likes to send postcards of places he has never been.
  • My sister posted a lot of blank postcards to her
  • The envelope opened in the post box.
  • The post office dutifully delivered the unstamped blank post card to me.

Not vintage content, I would concede, but there it is, this week’s postal mystery unravelled.

Separately, the census enumerator collected the census form. I had dutifully divided the time capsule bit at the back into 5 for us all to fill in a bit. It was on the hall table for herself to add her bit but, alas, she had not done so by the time the enumerator came. I wanted to take a photo of the time capsule as well for…um, not posterity, for me I suppose but it was not to be. I put in as much as I could about family history (I bitterly resent that empty fifth as I had much more to say but there you go); Mr. Waffle put in a bit about us and our cat; Michael hoped that there were people to read it; and Daniel put in a line from a song. I do hope we get to do it again next census.

On the Socials


Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Princess, Work

We had an in person away day at work last week. I was genuinely looking forward to it (sadly) and it was really great to see people in person again. But you know, ultimately, an away day is as you would imagine. We had a guest speaker. She spoke about trying to manage our tech habits and inspired by her, I have deleted Instagram from my phone. It was a slight wrench but I had found myself sitting scrolling at midnight when I ought to be tucked up in bed reading my book and keeping my husband awake with the bedside light. I gave up Twitter in April 2019 and although I do still slightly miss it from time to time, I am very pleased that I did. I find Instagram less interesting than Twitter so hope that I will miss it even less. Although I did like those filters.

Instead, I now seem to be addicted to Duolingo which at least has the merit of being educational. I am learning Ukrainian. I would say that the Cyrillic alphabet is tricky. Mr. Waffle said, “It’s based on the Greek alphabet – remember Cyril and Methodius – which I learnt in a week when I was 12, how hard can it be?” Frankly, this attitude is unhelpful. I spent some time in Bosnia in the mid-90s and in my head I still pronounce the Bosnian word for restaurant as Pectopah so you can see my difficulty.

Separately, herself introduced me to BeReal which I mentioned a couple of weeks ago. I am quite enjoying it despite the fact that I know no one on there but herself (I feel like I am definitely ahead of the middle aged curve on this one). Sadly most of my pictures feature me in my concrete bunker (or, as it is described elsewhere, my award winning office – architect led design, what is it with architects and concrete?). I am very excited by the prospect of my sabbatical and a whole range of different settings opening up to me.

Matters Ukrainian


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

We now have 4 Ukrainian families living on our road. Herself met young Master Next Door in the course of her gallivanting and he tells her that they too have taken in what he rather sweetly called “Ukrainian guests”. Apparently they all gather gloomily in the converted shed in one of the houses up the road and listen to the news from Ukraine. It’s extremely grim. I am slightly in awe of my neighbours who spearheaded this. As well as putting up their own refugees, they are gathering up old laptops, ware, cutlery and pots and pans for Ukrainian families as well as trying to source more permanent accommodation and schools and everything else. Mr. Waffle dropped off our old bikes to a man in town who is reconditioning them for Ukrainian refugees. It is nice to feel that you are doing something, however small, but it’s only a drop in the ocean.

19


Posted in: Princess

Herself is 19 today. “When,” she asked me, “will you be doing the GDPR-breaching post for my birthday ?” Not tonight but, probably before the boys’ birthday in September.

She seems to be pretty pleased with her haul of presents – many books including a first edition of a Samuel Beckett book of poetry in French. I paid good money for these notions and I am pleased to see them being used.

She was off at a session in the Alliance at the weekend on Irish and French literature. Simultaneous translation was provided for both the French and the Irish speakers on the panel and herself was the only person in the room who didn’t need to put on the headphones at all. Honestly, my work here is done. And where do you think she got her notions?