An acquaintance is going to South Africa for a fortnight at Easter. “Why didn’t you take longer?” I asked. “That’s a trip of a lifetime.” “12th trip of a lifetime,” he said laconically. It turns out that his wife is South African. He did say that they were going on safari for the first time and that he was getting quite excited about this. His 14 year old daughter looked at the website and said, “That does look good and everything Dad, but are you sure that the chalet has wifi?”
Ireland
Weekends Rounded Up
We had no electricity for a full day the weekend before last. Very challenging. They laughed at me when I said that we needed candles in stock. They’re not laughing now. The boys spent the afternoon playing card games by candle light with my sister’s partner. And we went out to dinner.
This was the scene at 9 on Saturday night when we went to bed.
There was great rejoicing when it came back on and we spent all day Sunday being grateful for electricity and heat (the Aga was still blaring out heat and we lit a fire but the central heating was not working) but we’re back to our usual blasé selves now. Our agony was made worse by the fact that it was only some houses on the street were affected and our neighbours on either side had light and heat.
We went to see the newly opened Custom House Museum which is mildly interesting. It was nice to wander around the building and have its history explained but not fascinating now. It was free as their card machine was broken. We take our wins where we can.
Daniel read at mass today – really good, in fairness to him. This afternoon, Mr. Waffle and I took a ride on our bikes in the park and spared the boys. Michael stayed contentedly at home and Daniel went to watch his hurling team (he can’t play at the moment due to his shoulder injury).
It’s all thrills around here. Ahem. Satisfactory nonetheless.
This is Full Employment
Mr. Waffle and I went out to see a film the other night. As I was leaving the office, one of my colleagues asked me what I was going to see and I started, “My neighbour is a documentary film maker…” but was unable to get any further due to the gales of laughter that met this pronouncement. Anyhow, despite fears to the contrary (including, to be honest, mine) the film was very good, if a little long.
We’d left the boys with cash at home to buy revolting pizza from Domino’s which is inexplicably popular with them. When we got home at 9 there was no sign of the pizza which was ordered some time earlier. I rang the shop.
Me: I was just wondering where our order was.
Domino’s Man: Oh, I hate to say this, it’s out with our slowest driver.
Me: Any idea when it will arrive?
Him: Could be tomorrow to be honest. It’ll probably be cold too.
It came at 9.40. It was cold. To be fair, they offered to sort us, if it was cold when we got it but at that point we couldn’t face waiting for another order.
Anois Teacht an Earraigh
It’s been a busy month. It would have been my mother’s 86th birthday on the 1st of February; the feast of St. Brigid (and from next year we’re going to get an extra bank holiday to celebrate it as well – a Covid dividend apparently). She was very fond of this poem and often quoted from it. Apparently we do all turn into our mothers.
At mass a small child was running around the church. I recognised her mother and realised that she was the last baby baptised before the pandemic started (I mean I think that the church was still baptising away, but the pre-baptism meeting with the outreach team was halted for the duration of the pandemic). It has been a long haul. Particularly for the parents of young children I would imagine.
Life is gradually getting back to normal. From tomorrow, we can stop wearing masks in most places. The other night Mr. Waffle went out for a drink with his friends; “just like a real boy,” said Daniel who in his sister’s absence is bidding fair to become our most sarcastic resident. It is not, however, that he never met his friends in the pub before but that it has been a couple of years since he has done so and the boys have just forgotten what it was like before.
Mr. Waffle and I went to the cinema for the first time since the pandemic started (if you don’t count the time we went to see the Met live streamed and I really don’t). We saw Belfast. It got rave reviews and I did quite enjoy it but it wasn’t as fantastic as everyone said. I asked my friend from Belfast (who grew up six minutes walk away from Kenneth Branagh’s street) what he thought and he said he felt that broadly it was quite realistic – though no one is buying that after a Presbyterian funeral the mourners were invited to do a bit of singing and dancing. My friend did comment that he felt Branagh really wanted it to be a musical but lacked the nerve to follow through on that ambition – you can see how a musical about the start of the Troubles might be.. challenging. Once you’ve heard that it’s hard to shake that insight. I was surprised how much a working-class Protestant childhood in Belfast in the 60s was like a middle-class Catholic childhood in Cork in the 70s. They even had the same Christmas tree as us. And also, a favourite song of my father’s – from some film I think – “Do not forsake me oh my darling” was featured on the soundtrack. I don’t think I’ve heard it since he died.
February is rugby season and Dan has been to see see the Irish team lose to France with his uncle a couple of weeks ago (did you see anyone you knew at the match? yes another uncle from the other side of the family – Ireland is tiny) and win against Italy today. Neither entirely satisfactory – the first for obvious reasons and the second because it was a massacre. Oh well. I remember two years ago when lock down started during the six nations – I am not a massive rugby fan but I am so glad to see it back. Poor Daniel has been injured again in GAA (no matches or training for a week says the physio), at least it isn’t rugby, I suppose, where his never give up attitude could be quite terrifying.
We had friends round to dinner. We went to an exhibition (on the Treaty in Dublin Castle – a bit dull but worthy and, you know, an exhibition).
My sister and I went on a food tasting tour in Cork. Not bad but it started at 10.30 and the first bite of food did not pass our lips until 11.45. Can I tell you how much I regretted skipping breakfast so that I would have room for all the food I was going to taste? Anyway, the best tip was always book a food tour when you go to a new city as, by definition, it will be run by people who love food and will be able to give you great restaurant tips for your stay. I give you this for free.
The tour guide described how he met Prince Albert of Monaco when he (the tour guide) was doing some yacht racing and Prince Albert asked him where he was from. Our guide said Ireland and Prince Albert said, “My mother was Irish.” “I know,” said the guide. I quite liked the modest assumption of Albert that we might not know who his mother was. She was American, of course, but we can be flexible when it suits us. She stayed in the Imperial Hotel when she came to Cork, if you’re interested. It’s also where I got my first morsel of food when on the food tour and where my granny and Aunt Cecilia used to meet for afternoon tea on a Saturday. A historic spot.
In other, it’s all over bar the shouting, news herself had some school friends visit her in England and then we came across to see her. God, it lashed rain. Due to a booking mishap we had to move accommodation during the two days we were there and we traipsed miserably about with our sodden bag rolling behind us.
However, notwithstanding the appalling climactic conditions, we had a lovely time overall. The Princess showed us around, found good places for us to eat and introduced us to her English friends (lovely, articulate, polite young people who were nice to her brothers – gold star). We went to a museum. I went to evensong where two of her friends sang (one of them is -gasp – Tiktok famous) and it was absolutely beautiful.
I said to her, “I see everyone’s wearing those pearls on their eyes now that you had a couple of years ago. ” Very fashion forward though I still think a bit daft looking. “Where did you get them?” I asked because they were definitely not available in the make up shops then. “From the wedding stationery bit of Eason’s,” she said. Maybe she’ll make a fortune yet as some kind of futurologist.
After our visit to herself in college, we went to London for a couple of days. Did you know that you can pay for transport in London with your contactless bank card? Hands down the most impressive transport innovation of my lifetime. Delighted.
We travelled by boat,
we went to the London Eye,
the Tower of London, Covent Garden, the British Museum (briefly to check out a complaint written in cuneiform which Daniel had seen on the internet), Hodge’s statue,
Leadenhall market (adjacent to Gracechurch street where, enthusiasts will remember Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner lived, Michael who spent the week reading Pride and Prejudice was resolutely unimpressed but I, a true fan, was charmed),
and Mr. Waffle’s sister’s family for dinner and an exciting chance to inspect their new house purchased last year.
It was all excellent though slightly exhausting. I was never happier to splurge on a taxi than when I had walked from Bloomsbury to the Tower of London. What was truly wonderful was having the London relatives on tap for advice on what to do and – possibly more importantly – where to eat near the various attractions. It was like having an expert guide with full knowledge of you and your family’s needs. In fact, actually, that was exactly what it was. It was the best trip I’ve had in a very long time (even pre-Covid). Still, I was possibly influenced by the fact that it was very, very nice to be abroad for the first time since summer 2019*.
I was a little unnerved when we got home and Michael said that it was good to be back somewhere the Russians were less likely to think of as a target. Does he not realise his sister is living in England? Oh the poor Ukrainians.
And in final it is over, surely it’s over, news, I’ve decided to take a bit of time off work. I am flattened. My mother died in June 2019, my father died in December 2020, work has been tough in the pandemic, herself has left home and her brothers will be finishing school next year and moving on to a new part of their lives. I feel a bit like it’s now or never. So I will be removing myself from the labour market from June 2022 until October 2023. I have no major plans, I will not be travelling the world or writing my novel. I might rejoin the tennis club; that’s about the height of it. Funnily enough one of my bookclub friends is also taking some time out. I am very conscious that I am lucky to be able to do this.
Let me know your own post pandemic plans.
*Updated to add: my sister points out that I was in the Netherlands last autumn. Mr. Waffle points out that we were also in England in the autumn. Oops.
Long Old Month All the Same, Isn’t It?
We had my brother up to stay last weekend and my sister came to visit yesterday. There’s no two ways about it even though we drive each other crazy sometimes – mostly? – there is nothing like a sibling. It was lovely to see them both. We went bowling with my brother and he won comfortably. A misspent youth, clearly.
Mr. Waffle and I attempted a cultural adventure last weekend but were refused entry to St Patrick’s cathedral on the grounds that evensong was on. “But it’s only 3.15,” I yelped. “It’s Protestant, you know,” said the security man slightly patronisingly. “But it’s nowhere near evening,” I said. He looked at me pityingly. “Let’s go to Marsh’s Library instead,” I said to Mr. Waffle. “That’s closed too,” said Mr. Annoying Security Guy.
We had a browse in the outdoor book fair in the park beside the Cathedral and bought two books (do we need more books? NO!). Then we went on to Bewley’s where we waited 15 minutes to be seated for tea, with Mr. Waffle chomping at the bit; he is not patient. As the young woman led us to our table she asked, “Have you been to Bewley’s before?” Mr. Waffle confided to me that he was very tempted to say to her, “I’ve been coming here since before you were born.” But he managed to stop himself which is just as well.
Today we went up to the Hellfire club which is a very modest walk in the Dublin mountains close to the city. It didn’t rain on us. A win.
We booked our summer holiday this evening which took a great deal out of both of us but it is done. Let us hope that we will be able to enjoy it in due course.
Small Island
Sample 1
You will recall that Michael and Daniel spent time on Bere Island over the summer, I’m sure. It’s a small island off the west coast of Cork. My sister’s partner’s parents have a house there. In conversation with a classmate, Michael discovered that his (the classmate’s) grandmother was from there and they owned the nearest house to my sister’s partner’s parents where the classmate went for Christmas. All three of them were there at the same time over the summer and it is almost unbelievable that they didn’t run into each other but they know for future reference and the classmate’s mother has told me that none of their outhouse doors are locked and the boys can help themselves to canoes etc if they are back again. If I’ve told you this before, I’m sorry but I have reached the age where I am allowed to repeat myself.
Sample 2
A retired colleague dropped in to the office before Christmas and a couple of us went for coffee.
Still working colleague: How are you getting on?
Retired colleague: Great, well, my health is good which is a great thing.
SWC: Yes, at our age that is a great thing. A friend of my husband’s was swimming in the sea in Kerry last summer and started to feel unwell. A man in the sea with him (a stranger to him) happened to be a GP. He asked the friend if he was ok. He said not. The GP brought him to shore where he collapsed.
RC: The exact same thing happened to me when I was in Kerry with friends over the summer. They are both doctors and this man collapsed who had been out swimming and they went to help. It was very dramatic, the air ambulance landed beside the beach and all the cows ran to one corner of the field.
SWC: And this man had to be airlifted to Cork where he was treated for a brain bleed.
RC: He was airlifted to Cork but we never heard what happened.
Yes, yes, it was the same man, same beach and, you will be delighted to hear that, although it was touch and go for a while, the man has made a complete recovery and just had an appointment with his doctor the other day who said he was fine. Retired colleague said his doctor friends had been wondering what happened and now he would be able to tell them the good news.
