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Yesterday the Princess and I went to mass on our own. We got the tram in and a nice old lady chatted to her until she (the Princess) managed to get her foot under the lady’s skirt and kick it up in the air. Got off the tram in some relief. Went into the church. Princess immediately began scurrying round. Dragged her back to our pew where she grabbed the Sunday paper I had purchased and began to demolish it. Rescued the paper and stuck it up under an angel’s wing. Princess pointed imperiously at string bag on the back of the buggy. “Bockle, bockle”. Gave her the bottle which she proceeded to turn upside down and drip on the floor. Removed bottle. Gave some brief thought to the Gospel on Lazarus and Dives. Princess went back to the string bag and said “Waisin, waisin”. “What?” “Waisin, waisin!!” Removed box of raisins and gave them to her, she chucked them in the air in delight and the next five minutes saw me on my hands and knees trying to beat her to the raisins on the church floor. Middling success. She didn’t eat quite all of them. She then squatted down, went purple in the face and made a groaning noise. I departed and took her to a nearby cafe to change her. To be honest, I would have abandoned mass at that point except that I realised that the paper was still back there stuck under the angel’s wing. So back we went. When we emerged there was a tram outside so we lept on joyfully only to discover that the lady whose skirt the Princess had kicked in the air was there too. A little frostiness. Arrived home in a state of advanced collapse.
Today there is a brocante near where we live. The roads are blocked off and our neighbours have laid out their unwanted goods in front of their houses. Oh I love brocantes. So far we have purchased:
– a dress for the Princess (2 euros)
– minature wooden table and chairs for the Princess (10 euros)
– plastic yoke on wheels for the Princess to push around (2 euros)
– waffle for the Princess – no Belgian gathering is complete without a waffle van (1.50)
And we’re going to be going back this afternoon.
In future we’ll probably stay away from the neighbour who was offering the following tomes for sale:
“Children and violence”
“Fathers who don’t know how to love”
“Bad parents make bad children”
Charitable Mr. Waffle offers the following suggestions – psychiatrist, review copies or, if they’re selling, then they’ve obviously resolved their issues. Or, the children have moved out of home or are in prison.
The kids a few houses up did something like that a while back (without the road blocks and the waffle van). All sorts of bargains were to be had, including a knock-down price first edition of a children’s novel that I loved as a kid.
Sadly, no one told the dad…
I reluctantly gave it back when he came round with that totally devestated what kids can do to you look in his eyes.
Beth, we don’t really have an equivalent in Ireland, so I don’t know whether you have either in America. It’s a bit like a flea market, I suppose. By the by, really enjoyed your story about the cat pee.
Jack, that’s tragic. What was the book?
The Silver Branch by Rosemary Sutcliff. I used to see myself as a kind of out-of-time Evicatos of the Spear!!!
Ooh, must rush out and buy.
we have Brocante too here but being Swiss it’s called Broci.
Is this because Swiss French is a little odd? No smart comments about Belgian French, please.
it’s even odder than that, waffle – it’s a classic example of swiss german.
Yes, I know, you’re desperate to know.The new Barbara Trapido book which is very good but a little disappointing, it’s just too much autobiography and not enough plot for my liking but still excellent. Also have learnt a great deal about Afrikaaners.
“The Clicking of Cuthbert” PG Wodehouse, a man who bears much rereading.
“Dress your family in corduroy and denim” by David Sedaris, good but not as good as “Me talk pretty one day”.
“The Supernaturalist” by Eoin Colfer, kiddie’s book, not as good as his other offerings. And “Oryx and Crake” by Margaret Atwood which is surprisingly similar in theme to “The Supernaturalist”.
“The talk of the town” by Ardal O’Hanlon. Really very good. Surprisingly good. I mean you don’t expect a great deal from Fr. Dougal. But that just shows that he is good at acting dumb and kind of pleasant. This book is smart and kind of unpleasant. But good unpleasant.
And, oh yeah, I finished “Blindness” and despite a frankly offputting style, this is a really fantastic book. Highly recommended. Rush out and buy. Chilling page turner. Don’t let your enthusiasm for this make you rush out and buy “The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis” though. V. challenging.
Am contemplating starting “American Pastoral”. Is this a good idea? Will it just depress me. I know, I’ll read something cheering by William Trevor instead.
Hmm, don’t remember this, but it sounds like the kind of thing, I’d like alright. Suspect that fiction writing may not take off due to complete lack of commitment but I will keep you posted in gory detail.
I know, I’m not allowed to be bored what with all you wage slaves out there struggling away to meet deadlines and me being idle while my baby sleeps. But I am bored. So there. And it’s raining. Am so bored that I have completed a number of ghastly tasks that have been looming over me for some time. I may even try to write a second paragraph of my book. You know, the one that lacks plot, characters and dialogue. All I need now is for my mother to come in and tell me that if I’m really that bored I can go and tidy my room.
Look, if you’re very lucky and I get a good reference from Heather (ha ha), you may be able to blogsit for me. Surely that’s better than any goody bag. By the by, the publishing exec informs me that MY goody bag is on its way and it is excellent.
I have a solution; have you ever noticed that you’re never bored when you have some horrible task to do? What you must do is decide that you really ought to update your CV / paint the cellar / wash the car / polish the cutlery / read one of those books you bought because you really ought to read it. As soon as you’ve decided that’s what you ought to be doing you’ll suddenly find a plethora of little things to occupy yourself with for “just five minutes more before you get started”. Works for me.
I’ll talk to you later about the reference but first of all I want to have words with you about stealing my idea for the book wiht no plot, characters or dialogue – there’s only room for one of those at the time.
It’s really bad if you’ve vacuumed under things or behind things.
Norah, I’ve done all that. No really, it’s just ghastly, I’m contemplating going through my old electricity bills and throwing out ones that are more than 6 years old. Heather, I would love to Hoover but am terrified it would wake herself and her views on the hoover are overwhelmingly negative…actually, I suppose if I was really bored I could wake the Princess, you know, Norah, you’re right, there are a couple of bits and pieces I should see to like putting up that picture etc.
By the by Heather, I suspect that there probably is a market for our plotless, characterless, dialogueless books (TM). We are post-post-modern. I think that PPM books are also very short. Maybe a paragraph and a half?
Emailed the publishing exec yesterday to congratulate her on one of her crowd’s books being on the Booker list and she called me back to give me all relevant gossip and other publishing titbits. I took this opportunity to share with her my various woes (excluding the very annoying fact that the CD player won’t play any of my slightly upmarket Patisserie of a Sunday morning music – you know what I mean, soundtracks from Amelie and the Piano, Naxos samplers – I didn’t want to overwhelm her with my grief). Also I told her that I had thought I might start writing a book but it’s actually a lot harder than you might think and had given up on paragraph 2.
She offered the following 1) writing a book is hard and it’s nothing to do with intelligence, it’s just like rolling your tongue, you can either do it or you can’t and if you can’t, you just can’t (of course, she may be aware that if I do write a book I will send it to her crowd and force her to rescue it from the slush pile and read it, so that may have coloured her advice) and 2) she would prepare a cheering goody bag for me. Oh yay, a publisher’s goody bag. The excitement. Three cheers for the publishing executive.
on 24 September 2004 at 14:43
Routledge-Falmer? Never heard. However, if we now write to you Waffle complaining about stuff, will you then send us a goody bag? Nothing too big, but expensive obviously.
on 24 September 2004 at 14:53
Nah Silver, but I was thinking I might ask you to blog sit for me over the Christmas holidays. I feel that you deserve another chance and that Heather was unduly harsh on you. Also, we don’t have a cat.
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