Michael: How far is to Saint Nicolas?
Me: Well, we haven’t lived in Belgium for a long time now and, um…
Him: When is it?
Me: Well, some people might say it has already passed. Technically.
Him: When is it?
Me: December 6. But, you never liked the chocolate Santas anyway, he had to bring you crisps.
Him: That’s hardly the point.
[His siblings emerge from their bedrooms looking peeved.]
Me: Um, well, it’s really up to Saint Nicolas and I suppose we don’t live in Belgium any more….
Him: There will be three pairs of shoes beside the fireplace tomorrow night. Saint Nicolas had better deliver.
Me: Um, ok, we’ll have a word with him.
Boys
Cycling Etiquette
Yesterday I walked to school with the boys as usual pushing my bike along. I was walking on the pavement pushing my bike on the edge of the road when a man in lycra sped past me and said, “If you’re not cycling, get out of the cycle lane!” Should you push your bike on the path? It is very annoying to find cyclists annoying. I am on their side. Sigh.
Commemorating
As part of what we are calling “The Decade of Centenaries” every primary school in the country is being given a national flag in a formal ceremony. Representatives from the Defence Forces turn up at the school; the proclamation of independence is read; and the children learn about the protocol for looking after the national flag (handy, on all sorts of occasions, I am sure). I think they then use this knowledge to hoist the flag up over every school for Easter 2016.
The boys had their flag visit today. Three of the children from the school got to read out part of the proclamation of independence during the ceremony and Daniel was one of the chosen few. He was very proud. The Irish was quite hard too. He had the bit about “cherishing all of the children of the nation equally and oblivious of the differences carefully fostered by an alien government, which have divided a minority from the majority in the past”. No prizes for guessing to whom the alien government refers. It’s all peace and reconciliation now, of course.
As part of the celebrations, they got no homework tonight. I am sure that the signatories of the proclamation would be delighted.
Romantic Text Messages in Middle Age
Mr. Waffle was putting out our bins this evening and he ran into our next door neighbour putting out their bins. Her husband travels a lot for work but she said that no matter where he is or in what time zone, he always texts her to let her know which bin* to put out when.
Unrelated: it was lashing here this evening but Daniel still spent an hour out at GAA training getting damp and filthy. The Gaelic Athletic Association is not for the faint hearted. Also this evening, Michael got his first scout badge; great rejoicing.
*Green for recycling; black for general and brown for organic (only Mr. Waffle and Mr. Next Door can remember which bin goes out on which night).
Australia Vanquished
It’s freezing here today. Ireland were playing Australia in some kind of game that is half way between Gaelic football and Australian rules football. Mr. Waffle and Daniel went to watch in Croke Park. As Mr. Waffle is a very prepared kind of person, they both had multiple layers and were reasonably toasty throughout. Daniel even had a flask of hot chocolate which his thoughtful father had brought for him. I just picked them up and to add to their happiness, Ireland managed to beat Australia.
On the down side, as I type, Mr. Waffle is upstairs taking off his long johns (purchased many years ago in the Canadian winter and still proving their worth) and even from downstairs I can hear him sneezing and coughing. Alas.
Stormy
It was wet and windy today. I had a half day. Michael was home sick. Mr. Waffle minded him in the morning and I had him in the afternoon. I abandoned him to drive into school and pick up Daniel (bike in the boot) and then when I had dropped Daniel, I went in search of herself (communication continues to be challenging – the phone Santa got her for Christmas is unsatisfactory). I found her almost home, her little helmet bobbing along as she walked by the nearby shops. She had been blown off her bike. She had a bloody knee but no serious injury was sustained except to her dignity.
Mr. Waffle arrived in at 6, also windswept and disappointed that his soccer was called off. There’s enthusiasm.
45,000 homes are without electricity though thankfully not ours (although we did lose the internet there for about an hour, so, you know, we could empathise). I lit the fire and made biscuits. Now we are about to eat them.
It’s a day for staying in.
