Family

Potato Content

11 November, 2022
Posted in: Family, Ireland, Mr. Waffle

As you will be aware, Irish people have a special relationship with the potato. Many years ago we were at a wedding where an English man was marrying a Cork woman. He went around the reception telling people in tones of awe, that there were going to be three different types of potato for dinner. How could he not have known that at least two is standard for any kind of fancy dinner.

There are a number of potato related ditties I learnt when I was growing up.

This one about the importance of ensuring your stock of potatoes:

Be ateing two/be peeling two/have two in the heel of your fist/and have your eye on two more.

Sound advice. Also this one which is a Cork special:

Are oo from Cork?/ I am are oo?/How are yer potatoes?/Big and small/How do ya ate ’em?/Skins and all/Don’t they hurt ya?/Not at all.

When I was little and we were ill, mashed potato with a little butter was often offered to the sufferer once he or she had graduated from dry toast.

My mother used to call mashed potato pandy, which I always assumed was a made up childish name never to be uttered outside the family home. Imagine my astonishment when I saw this letter in the paper (part of a long series of letters over several days on the potato).

Here’s another long letter on potatoes. In case you’re interested. And who wouldn’t be?

More of it:

I regret to say that Mr. Waffle being the child of 60s hippies prefers rice to potatoes and insofar as he likes potatoes prefers a waxy potato to a floury one. It says much for his other virtues that our relationship continues to thrive notwithstanding his poor carbohydrate choices.

Please let me have your own potato related memories.

So soon?

10 November, 2022
Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland

Lads, it’s only November 10 and I am out of content. I was in Cork for a couple of days for my sister’s birthday and it was lovely but unnewsworthy. I must say though, travelling to Cork on the train on a sunny Tuesday morning is an unbeatable way to see the country. It was delightful.

I tested two breakfast spots in my efforts to find a replacement for the much lamented Crawford Gallery cafe. The Good Day deli wasn’t bad but the Farm Gate was disappointing and drafty. The search continues.

I saw this sign in the market which shows real enterprise.

Meanwhile, the Simon Community advertising shows that it understands the Cork mentality pretty well.

Covid – Some Wins

7 November, 2022
Posted in: Family, Ireland

I’ve been trying to think about what we gained during the pandemic; I know a lot about what we lost so I’ve been tying to think of some positives.

Food

I got into bread making. My sourdough was a disaster (we will not speak of it) but my sister-in-law gave me a recipe for a pretty foolproof no knead bread and it works for me. You really need to be working at home for it to work because it takes ages but it is very low labour.

I started eating porridge for breakfast. It has changed my life. So filling. So delightful with various toppings. Who knew?

Geography

I now have a detailed knowledge of almost everywhere within a 2km radius of our home. I’ve been really surprised at how much I didn’t know before, small parks and tiny estates. I’m also pretty well up on everything within a 5km and to a lesser extent 10km radius. Old churches, parks, the whole village of Chapelizod, which is just lovely.

I have a much more in-depth knowledge of the island of Ireland having spent a much greater proportion of my holidays there than I ever expected to. The children have been to almost all 32 counties which I am sure will stand to them in some obscure as yet unimagined way.

Neighbours

I got to know a lot more of my neighbours. The neighbourhood whatsapp group was started and although it can be a bit of a mixed blessing, it is, on balance, positive.

Entertainment

I really enjoyed our film nights with the big screen. The children tired of them but at a time when we had relatively little to look forward to, I looked forward to our weekend screenings. I might even get the projector out from under the stairs again at some point.

We became subscribers to the Irish Times in hard copy. I mean, I know we’re a dying breed here but I do enjoy a hard copy newspaper first thing in the morning. Usually the children glance at it on the kitchen table but the other day I saw Michael trying to turn the pages of the paper in the air. I’ll tell you this, if his performance is anything to go by, the art of safely turning the page of a broadsheet newspaper is definitely endangered.

Transport

It’s a slow burner but cycle infrastructure has definitely improved in Dublin. It’s great to feel a bit safer on the bike and I think that Covid accelerated what was already a trend.

Time with my children

This is a bit of a mixed blessing. At a time when they should have been away from home, meeting their friends, socialising, growing up, they were suddenly confined to barracks. On the whole, it was pretty awful for them and I would hate for anything like that to happen to another cohort of teenagers. However, it did mean that we saw lots of them and maybe got to know them better than we ever would have otherwise. I am pulling what I can from the burning building here.

Worthwhile purchases

The hammock and the rocking wooden seat that we bought for the back garden – purchased when the back garden was playing a very large role in our lives – have given us all hours of pleasure.

Money saved

I am a spendthrift but my spendiness is largely in relation to in person spending, it transpires. While I was working from home and not able to buy anything in person, I saved a lot of money. I was surprised, and it’s hard not to sound unbearable here, but it just kind of mounted up. I appreciate that we were very fortunate in this regard but so it was.

Time Out

The money saved in Covid, gave me enough of a cushion to try taking a year out of the work force. That clearly wasn’t the only reason but, obviously enough, it gave me an option that I never thought I had before. And I am loving my time off. It’s amazing.

What about you? Anything positive to report? Anything at all?

Updated to add: How could I have forgotten, the Government has given us a whole new public holiday- St. Brigidâ€™s Day, the first Monday in February – to help us all recover. In perpetuity. Now that is a definite dividend.

Are You Sitting Comfortably?

5 November, 2022
Posted in: Family, Princess

There’s been something of a clear out of Mr. Waffle’s parents’ house and my parents’ house over the last few years. Herself has taken a chair from each house and they now reside in her bedroom which is a space rich in chairs.

I can’t help feeling that each of them somehow encapsulates something about the families that Mr. Waffle and I grew up in. Mr. Waffle’s parents have provided a rocking chair which they bought when they were living in Costa Rica; my parents have provided a regency striped gossip chair which my mother acquired at auction.

I wonder will herself bring them to her own house someday or whether (very likely) they will now live in a corner of my house forever.

Stockholm – Part 1

6 September, 2022
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Family, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Travel

Monday, August 1, 2022

Mr. Waffle and I made a list of things that could go wrong with our complex travel arrangements.

1. Our taxi mightnâ€™t come.

2. Lufthansa luggage check in wouldn’t work in advance and would there be a problem at the airport in the cold early hours of the following morning?

3. For reasons which seemed good to us at the time, we booked to travel to Stockholm via Frankfurt and gave ourselves an hour to make our connection in Frankfurt.

4. There was a good chance our luggage would get lost.

5. Herself was travelling to Stockholm from London separately and it was quite possible that we would be stuck in Stockholm without her or she would be stuck in Stockholm without us.

Over dinner that evening we mulled over our various problems. “And I’m not looking forward to the 6.15 start either,” I said gloomily. “What’s wrong with 6.15?” said Dan. Pause. “Wait, is it 6.15 in the morning?” To be fair, airport chaos wasn’t the issue it became when we originally booked the flight and we didn’t expect to have to be at the airport three hours before take off.

Tuesday, August 2, 2022

We made it safely to the gate, high as kites at having overcome obstacles one and two on our list. As we went through security, I saw Daniel and Michael chatting to a beautiful, tall, blonde stranger who, on closer inspection, turned out to be a girl from their class in primary school. She was off to a musical festival in Romania. Would you look at the young people?

Our connection at Frankfurt was tight but we made it and arrived safely in Stockholm. Our delight was tempered by the fact that our luggage, sadly, did not make it. But on the plus side, herself was there to greet us. She had been scheduled to fly via Copenhagen and arrive a bit later but when she got to the airport in London they put her on a direct flight instead. Mysterious but not unwelcome.

Stockholm airport is undergoing some redevelopment and signage for hire cars leaves a lot to be desired. This was not the Nordic efficiency we had hoped for. We schlepped for what felt like miles and then got a bus and we travelled in relative uncertainty that we were going in the right direction. At least we weren’t weighed down by our luggage.

We hired the Kia Sportage which has a very distracting instrument display which in no way showed how to turn off the wretched radio. We consulted the manual and the internet (we were not the first people to have this problem with the Kia Sportage) to no avail and ended up having to mute the wretched thing every time we got into the car for our week in Sweden. The standard handy bar under the front seat to move it forward was replaced by an automatic lever which moved it up/down and reclined the seat but never really got my little feet quite as close to the pedals as I would have liked.

I drove while Mr. Waffle played with the various buttons, bells and whistles. The built in sat nav introduced us to the concept of “turn half right” which was not something we were familiar with (slide right, is I think the more usual usage) and I found it trying enough as I navigated the tunnels of Stockholm. We were staying on the archipelago about 40 minutes drive from the city. As I stuggled with Half Right Helga (as we named the sat nav) and the various beeps (the Kia Sportage is a very judgey car, it beeps if you indicate you would like to change lane and there is another car beside you) and controls of a new car, I began to feel very warm. “Did you press a heating button?” I asked my husband accusingly. “No,” he said. My seat was feeling dangerously warm, like, uncomfortably, burningly warm. “Are you sure?” I yelped. “Oh yeah, actually, sorry, there’s a heated seat button here that seems to be pressed,” he said. It was a trying drive.

I am pleased to report that our hired house was delightful when we got there.

I was pretty impressed by the huge bank of solar panels out the back.

They had fake old plugs with USB ports. A bit weird but you know, very cottagecore.

We made a quick raid on the very expensive (dear God, Sweden is expensive) supermarket nearby and made dinner. At bed time we put everyone’s clothes in the wash – except for herself who had not lost her luggage and filled us all with sickening envy. Wasn’t it well for her? However she cooked dinner which was v welcome indeed, so much was forgiven.

Wednesday, August 3, 2022

Mr. Waffle has an admirable habit of turning off his phone about 8 in the evening and not turning it on again until he gets up the next day. On balance this is a very good thing. However, he woke up to a stream of texts indicating that our luggage would be sent out to us that very day if we confirmed in time. Gentle reader, we did not confirm on time. We were therefore fated to go another 24 hours without luggage.

We made a raid on the local shops for clothes. Did I mention that Sweden is expensive? We found a H&M (still expensive) and kitted ourselves out with some t-shirts, underwear and swimsuits.

The pool in the house was very satisfactory. We were delighted with ourselves. The only problem was the wind chimes on the porch which made a sound eerily like my work phone. My work phone that I had handed back to my employer with a skip in my step at the end of June, I might add. Nevertheless the chimes provoked an unpleasant Pavlovian response.

We had a walk down to the local beach.

Daniel volunteered to cook dinner and he picked up smoky barbecue ribs from Lidl. On inspection these appeared to be from from Watergrasshill which was a surprise. I mean I know, globalisation and all that. I bet I was one of the very few Swedish Lidl consumers that could tell you that driving through Watergrasshill before it was bypassed was always a bit exciting in winter as it was high up and likely to be icy even when nowhere else was. Fascinating, you say.

The children explored the joys of the trampoline.

Note her dress which she bought in a second hand shop in Berlin. She tells me that it comes from the DDR. You don’t get that much any more.

Thursday, August 4, 2022

On the hottest day of our trip to Sweden we drove into the city for the day. Look, this was not our best move but that’s easy to say with hindsight. The Swedes do not approve of driving into Stockholm which is an instinct I applaud. However, to support this laudable ambition, the cost of parking is terrifying. We will not speak of it.

We had booked ourselves on to a water bus tour. Stockholm is all islands and, if memory serves from the tour, has 57 bridges. We had loads of time to get to the quay from which our tour departed but somehow we whiled away the time – lunch, tea in the park, strolling around, buying phenomenally expensive peaked caps – and found ourselves undertaking a forced march around the harbour in the blazing sun at the hottest time of day.

We made it in time for the tour but I am not sure that we enjoyed it as much as we might have done as we were roasted and continued to bake in the open topped boat. The children told me that my face was like a tomato. Thanks guys.

We went home and had a restorative swim in the pool and a nice walk down to the seashore. And, let joy be unconfined, our luggage arrived.

Further Adventures

1 August, 2022
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Family, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Travel

Monday, July 25

I spent a good part of the morning doing logistics with herself for her trip to Paris in September. She was in Berlin, I was in Armagh. It seems extraordinary how much one can do online now (old crone speaks). Anyhow, eventually we finished up and Michael and I went out for a look around Armagh. We went to the county museum on the Mall which was small and contained the charming, slightly random, exhibits I associate with local museums.

We found a cannon from the Crimea. Mr. Waffle says that they must have brought home a boatload when they were coming; apparently the one on Dun Laoghaire pier is very similar.

We went to the Robinson Library which both of us really liked. Coincidentally, I think the Piranesi books we saw in Dublin were actually on loan from the Robinson Library. Archbishop Robinson was the big cheese locally and established both the library and the observatory and was determined to make Armagh a university city to rival Dublin. This did not happen but it was not for the want of trying on his part.

The librarian was lovely and very helpful. And then she left us alone with all the books without so much as a velvet rope to impede access. She also left a pair of magnifying glasses.

There was Swift’s own first edition of Gulliver’s Travels where he had made slightly irate amendments to the text which the publisher had changed without Swift’s permission; I think because the publisher didn’t want to go to gaol. Archbishop Ussher was also a big name locally and a first edition of one of his works was displayed. He’s the man who worked out that the date of creation was 22 October 4004 BC.

Michael retired to the house after our cultural odyssey but I went into town to see whether I could find a paper (yes) and a cup of tea (definitely not). It was 4 in the afternoon and the only suggestion the woman in the newsagent’s could make was that I could get a takeaway tea from the Spar. I mean, really. I took myself back to the house with the paper and made my own cup of tea. An economy, I suppose.

Tuesday, July 26 – Feast day of St. Anne

We were up with the lark (9 o’clock) to see Andy Pollak talk about whether the South is ready for re-unification. He thinks not, if I may summarise. It was funny because, aside from the obligatory man from the Department of Foreign Affairs, Michael and I were the only two Southerners there and it’s always interesting to hear what your neighbours are saying behind your back.

We found a nice cafe beside the cathedral and had breakfast and then went to have a look around the cathedral which had been closed the day before.

Mildly interesting and we had it to ourselves which I always enjoy.

And then onwards to the Jan Carson talk which was the reason we went on the trip in the first place.

“I’ll just double check the tickets,” I said to Michael. “1.30 is an odd time, maybe I have it wrong.” It was 1.30 but on the day before. I was furious with myself. Alas. We went to the Planetarium instead. It was fine in its way but aimed at a younger audience. It included an impressive exhibition of large lego dinosaurs (if that’s your thing) but our hearts weren’t in it when we should have been at the the talk.

We dutifully went to Archbishop Robinson’s observatory but you can’t get inside so we had to imagine what the Archbishop provided. Very impressive, I’m sure.

We cut our losses and drove home. It’s only an hour and a half away so we were home by late afternoon which was very pleasant too.

Wednesday, July 27

Mr. Waffle took me out to to breakfast to celebrate our 21st wedding anniversary which actually falls on the 28th but, look, we cut our cloth according to our measure.

Herself moved on to London on her European tour – her kind aunt and uncle let her stay in their place and she is pleased to be luxuriating in their empty house rather than sharing a dormitory in a Berlin hostel.

Our Ukranian cleaner came to our house with her sister who is visiting her. I decided to try out my fledgling Ukranian (one completed duolingo course, thanks for asking). It turns out I can only say certain set phrases. My comprehension is alright, actually, but my production is almost non-existant. I found myself listing the months of the year which, you know, isn’t a fantastic conversational gambit but the months of the year are weird in Ukranian, they’re named after plants and natural things and completely different from all the other Slavic languages. Also, to me, March (Ð±ÐµÑ€ÐµÐ·ÐµÐ½ÑŒ) and September (Ð²ÐµÑ€ÐµÑÐµÐ½ÑŒ) are almost identical (birch and gorse, I understand, in case you’re wondering). They were quite sympathetic but obviously baffled by my idiocy. To add to my difficulties, my cleaner’s sister has lived in Italy for many years. She speaks no English but good Italian. I also speak Italian and it’s much better than my Ukrainian, I can tell you. So we slipped and slid around English, Italian and Ukrainian for quite a while until I had to leave much to everyone’s relief.

Leaving Michael at home to recover from his exertions, I drove over to my friend’s house in a distant suburb to return the key to her Armagh house; give her a small present; and tell her about our doings. Then I drove to another friend’s new house in a different distant suburb; admired her new house and had a late lunch. I felt a bit guilty about not cycling but I have to recognise my not inconsiderable limitations. I could possibly have done with slightly fewer appointments but enjoyable all the same (world’s tiniest violin screeches). I actually still have my Covid wheeze although it is improving but I wonder am I absolutely 100%.

Thursday, July 28th

Michael and I went to Cork. In retrospect, the timing might have been better. We were barely unpacked from Armagh. But we took our bikes on the train which is a restful way to travel. We were staying in what I will have to get used to calling my sister’s house. I went in to the solicitor and signed the transfer in the afternoon. To be clear I am absolutely delighted that we are selling the house to my sister and not to a stranger; I know I can still stay there; and I have no need for a family home in Cork but it still felt a bit sad to be signing the papers. The end of an era, I guess. I feel that my links to Cork grow more and more tenuous and it is still very much where I am from and I miss it. To paraphrase James Joyce (whose father was from Cork, I might add) “When I die, Cork will be written in my heart.”

This is my 21st wedding anniversary and I am still pleased with my choice of husband. I am a genius. Yes it is all about me, thanks for asking.

The people organising Daniel’s course emailed that there was a chance to talk to the tutors on Friday. This is always a feature of the last day of this course – which herself did before Daniel – and I have never been able to go before because of work. And this was my last opportunity but, I had forgotten and Mr. Waffle was going to go again because I was in Cork. Such a waste because I am really interested in my children’s academic performance and he’s very much a “so long as they enjoyed it” man so our questions rarely overlap.

Friday, July 29

Michael and I had a look around the Crawford Gallery and the market. We visited my 93 year old aunt who was pleased to see us. My sister’s partner took Michael to spend an evening playing Magic The Gathering (if you don’t know, you’re better off) with a bunch of fellow enthusiasts and my sister and I went for a walk in the park. Tame pleasures but enjoyable.

In Dublin, Daniel had his last day on his course. It was great for him and he really enjoyed it. They have lots of quirky traditions one of which is formal Friday (worse when the weather was hotter but still odd, Dan says that many of the boys wear three piece suits, I mean how many boys have three piece suits?). Anyone else think that he looks like a Mormon missionary? You might like to note that his hair has been growing for two and a half months.

Saturday, July 30

Michael and I arrived back in Dublin in the late afternoon a bit exhausted from our excursions but, as I said to him, two full days with nothing planned before our trip to Stockholm. He was strangely uncomforted.

We are off to Stockholm on Tuesday and then onwards to Berlin. There will be no updates until the end of August when we get back from our holidays unless something really exciting happens. While we are away, my brother is staying in our house in Dublin along with herself (she is coming to Stockholm but leaving us when we fly to Berlin as she has had enough of Berlin for one summer) so the really exciting updates are likely to be Dublin ones.