belgianwaffle

Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

My dentist has been at me to get a mouth guard for my night time teeth grinding. I had one before and I stopped using it because I hated it.

However, bits of my teeth kept chipping off in a most distressing manner and I resigned myself to the inevitable. I now have the most sophisticated mouth guard known to man. It is 3D printed. It is form fitting. It’s still very uncomfortable, thanks for asking.

I didn’t ask the dentist how much it would cost (€22 in any sports shop) expecting the expense to be relatively modest. When I got a bill for €495, I nearly keeled over. Apparently, it’s an orthodontic treatment technically. And I guess they charge what they like for orthodontic treatment? I suppose it’s another incentive to wear the wretched thing.

Arts etc.


Posted in: Reading etc.

I went to see Prima Facie in the Gaiety with Jodie Comer. I was not Jodie Comer conscious before this but that was a quite extraordinary one-woman show. I think it was honestly the most impressive acting I have ever seen in my life. Difficult themes though – sexual assault and how it is treated in the courts.

I saw Eureka Day in the Gate. Philippa Dunne who plays Anne in Motherland was in it. She was good and somehow like her character in Motherland and also not. It’s set in a very right on school community in California and that provides some laughs. It was not entirely a comedy but enjoyable overall.

A colleague recommended Chengdu hotpot restaurant in Capel Street as a dining experience and I was curious. Mr. Waffle, middle child and I went along to investigate. The food was delicious but I thought I would like cooking my own food but definitely not. Also the table was like a crime scene by the time we had finished. Middle child said that we were the least adept people with chopsticks on the planet. Possibly true.

Mr. Waffle and I went to Newbridge House where we used to go a lot when the kids were small. The house tour is entertaining. The outdoor attractions were slightly waterlogged. I felt very sorry for these llamas.

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I offer you Mr. Waffle’s witticism by way of caption, “Alpaca raincoat next time”. Mr. Waffle also dug out this picture from our time in Argentina of where the llamas should be enjoying themselves.

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We saw Twinless in the cinema. It’s about the death of a twin. It’s supposed to be funnyish but it was a bit excruciating. Interesting in places and also funny in places but I wouldn’t totally recommend. My enjoyment was not helped by forgetting my glasses. Even though we were in row 2 and the director favoured an in-your-face kind of shot, I can’t say everything was as clear as I would have liked. And then a very smelly man sat in front of me. The blind, malodorous viewing experience may have affected my overall rating here.

Mr. Waffle booked us tickets to see Fair Deal in the Peacock. We went on a Monday. As we cycled in dolefully, I think we were both wondering why on earth we were going to this on a Monday of all days. I had understood it was about the fair deal nursing home scheme (you don’t need to know) and posed complex moral questions. It was, at a headline level, about the scheme but no complex moral questions were posed. It was a farce, it was hilarious and I loved it. So did all the pensioners in the audience (Monday night appears to be pensioners’ night in the theatre; we had a significant impact on the age and gender balance in the theatre). If you’ve watched the Walsh Sisters, the actress who plays Rachel in it is a woman called Caroline Menton; she’s in this too. And very good she is too as are the two other main actors (there’s a fourth actor who only has a bit part who’s a bit weaker). Highly recommended.

We’ve started watching How to get to Heaven from Belfast on Netflix. It’s been the subject of mixed reviews but I’m really enjoying it. There was a Slate podcast on it and because I’m watching it, I thought I’d have a listen. The American host referred to the actresses Sinéad Keenan (Shinaid) and Caoilfhionn Dunne (Keelan) and pronounced their names perfectly. I was pretty impressed, in fairness to him. But then he mentioned Roisin Gallagher (Rosheen Gallaher – the g is silent, I promise you, never mind what you know about Oasis) and called her Roy Sin Galla Ger. Two out of three ain’t bad, I guess. It’s funny though because in the show Roisin Gallagher’s character is called Saoirse (pronunciation varies but Seersha would be pretty common) and there’s a joke where an English woman addresses her as Srshly and the character says, “Really, Srshly?”

Last night Mr Waffle and I went to a supper club in a big house in north county Dublin. It felt slightly like a work dinner – nice food, beautiful setting, beautifully laid table with a centrepiece involving, inter alia, two taxidermied pheasants, but a lot of mingling and chatting to strangers. If we went again, we’d bring some friends. But overall an interesting and broadly positive experience.

And finally today, I saw these bronze heads that are installed on Grand Canal Quay. You really have to see them to appreciate them but I thought they were fantastic. Strongly recommended.

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Seen anything good yourself?

Continuing My Middle Aged Adventures


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Youngest Child

I am just in from visiting the Adam’s show room to inspect lots consigned for their upcoming “at home” auction. What a delight. Am I going to buy anything? Nope, but maybe next time.*

In fact, I went to quite a few house auctions last year. Since you ask, I didn’t actually buy anything but I enjoyed the experience. There’s nothing as good as poking around someone else’s house.

I am actively looking for a new dining room table having, with great reluctance, taken the one from my parents’ house in Cork which I never liked – a reproduction number with Queen Anne legs. However, a table in our dining room has improved it considerably and made it much more used so, as a concept, I welcome it. I just need a better table.

I have spent the past week clearing out the youngest child’s bedroom. All his stuff is now in his sister’s room. He currently has the box room and given that she has, alas, definitively moved out, if makes sense to move him to her double room. As part of this we are going to do up the box room a bit so her stuff is still in her old room. It’s horrific. I tell you this as I am keeping an eye out for a nice small desk for her as part of the move and saw a couple of possible candidates in my inspection at Adam’s. Though honestly clearing out the room made me mildly reluctant to ever bring anything into the house again. The whole thing took a lot out of me as I dug through the dusty Schliemann layers and sneezed through the process but it is done. Now to pin down the painter. I digress.

This whole house contents auction adventuring is not without its drawbacks. We went to inspect a house in the suburbs over the summer. The whole thing was basically a disaster. We spent two hours on the hottest day of the year trying to get there by the suburban rail line. There was some kind of fault and we ended up sheltering from the sun under a tiny canopy on a blistering platform. As I face into my 60th consecutive day of rain now, it’s hard to remember how unpleasant it was but I retain a feeling of mild rage which makes me think that I didn’t like it.

On the way home I went for a swim in Seapoint. This is quite the urban experience. When I was growing up in Cork, beaches were in the middle of nowhere and tennis courts were near the river surrounded by foliage. I have become more accustomed to Dublin where tennis courts can be right by the road or the train line and access to the sea is often via concrete. It’s hard to say Seapoint was at its best that day. It was very warm and it was full of people. Mr. Waffle declining the swimming opportunity went gloomily to sit on the ground beside a group of teenage boys who were playing loud music. They stopped him and pointed out that he was about to sit on dog poo and we were both suitably grateful and felt bad about our (mercifully silent) judgment of their loud music. I told a friend from Seapoint about this rather unsatisfactory experience. “I can only apologise,” said she, “if it’s any comfort my mother was flashed on the way to the beach the other day.” How would that be any comfort?

*Update: a not perfect – but better than mine – dining room table was on sale (estimate €600 to €1000) and it went for €60. It was a large Victorian mahogany table with 2 or 3 leaves and on castors (which is handy). I don’t know whether to be horrified (at the low esteem in which such items are held) or delighted (more bargains for me to find).

It’s a Jungle Out There


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Mr. Waffle, Princess

Mr Waffle had a work triumph and we had a weekday outing to Howth to celebrate.

We had lunch and a walk. A classic combination. After lunch, I got a 99 and we went for a stroll on the pier. There weren’t any people around.

On the exposed pier, the seagulls saw me and my ice cream and started flapping around trying to take it from me. In the absence of other punters I was (if you’ll forgive me) a sitting duck. I scuttled along anxiously guarding my ice cream but a seagull came diving in from behind and took a big mouthful. They’re big animals, you know. In what I have to say was not my finest hour, I threw the ice cream on the ground and abandoning the others I dashed off the pier shouting at the seagulls “Take it you bastards”.

No Favours Received etc.


Posted in: Princess, Reading etc.

I listen to a podcast called “As the Season Turns” which I enjoy in a mild way. It comes out on the first of every month and talks about what will happen over the month (nature wise not events). It’s sponsored by Ffern perfume and as I listened over the years I became more and more curious and eventually signed myself up to the “Ffern ledger” (I am alarmingly susceptible to advertising). I had to wait to get on the ledger, mind. Notions: queuing to buy something. But I did get on and eventually I was able to get my own barrel aged, small batch, whatever you’re having yourself, perfume made in Somerset. It comes with various small items and, unboxing, as I believe the expression is, is a joy. There’s also a short film every quarter. I don’t how much they pay the likes of Ruth Wilson and Bill Nighy for the slightly twee English material but there must be money in flogging stuff to me and my ilk.

I quite like the perfumes (they come quarterly on the 21st of the month) but to me they are heavy very adult scents like my mother used to wear. The first time I wore one, Herself said, “Is that your Ffern perfume – it smells very young!”. I guess everything is cyclical (insert your own joke here about the turning of the seasons).

I am 102


Posted in: Travel, Work

I was having a cup of tea with some much younger colleagues the other day and one of them said, “Look at this lovely old music book my grandparents brought me at the weekend.” I had a look at the photo, “Oh Moore’s Melodies, how nice,” I said. “Who?” said the young people. “The Last Rose of Summer, Believe Me if All Those Endearing Young Charms, The harp that once through Tara’s Hall?” I asked in growing alarm. Nothing. They hadn’t heard of Percy French either (for reasons I cannot explain – possibly because my mother used to sing both a bit – Thomas Moore’s work and Percy French’s sit in the same cabinet inside my head). I regarded the group aghast. A philosophical young man at the table pointed out it was horses for courses and said, “Anne, Wu Tang…?” “Clan,” I said proudly but given that they were formed in 1992, that is not quite the achievement it might have been. Had he chosen to mention any band at all formed after the children were born, it would have been a different story.

Anyway, my horror was as nothing compared to the security guard’s at the airport the weekend before last. As I went through the scanner she said to me, pointing at her younger colleague, “He’s never heard of John Wayne, tell him that’s crazy.” I obliged but I could tell that he thought we were crazy. Truly, it’s like being the elves going into the West.