Also, we have nearly sold our car. A man came to test drive it on
Saturday and fell in love with it. I didn’t meet him, but Mr.
Waffle thought he was dodgy. He said that he was a private
detective and he needed a new car urgently as his last one exploded
while he was tailing someone on the job. And he was very
keen. Mr. Waffle agreed a price and then became depressed.
He felt that we were ignorant foreigners being taken for a ride and we
would be paid, if at all, in counterfeit notes. And he pointed
out, when the man rang on the phone, he never said his name, a
suspicious sign, he thought. Professional idiosyncracy, I
decided. Anyway he turned up this morning to pay the deposit with
his wife and daughter in tow and it all seemed a little less
dodgy. It’s funny to think that, if all goes well, our
little car will be out and about tailing errant spouses or whatever it
is private detectives do in Belgium. The only problem now is
logistical. Before we can close the sale we have to all kinds of
technical things and this may not be a great week for us to take the
car for tests and hand it over. Oh well, doubtless everything
will work out.
And finally, even as I write, Mr. Waffle is picking my mother up from
the airport. She is going to stay with us for 10 days to provide
moral support to the Princess and more practical support for us.
Hurray for mothers. Of course, now I’m worried that the twins won’t
actually be born before she leaves.
on 26 September 2005 at 22:21
Anyway, as I was saying, one day something happened when I was writng on the board, and I turned round and demanded who had done it in a truly scholmasterly way. And several of the pupils pointed to the culprit, and to this day I remember their cry, “It was him, Mister, the black one!”
So there. Even coloured kids notice colours. “They’re colourblind at that age” say the PC brigade. Total, absolute, fur trimmed, bollocks. It’s just that they don’t know that colour’s at all significant – THAT they learn from adults.
Sweetie(s) given
on 27 September 2005 at 11:14
(And I expect the Princess was indeed confused by the the white parent/black child combo, and not anything more than that …).
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https://www.belgianwaffle.net/2005/09/415/
It’s one of these chain mail thingies.
“A woman, while at
the funeral of her own mother, met a man she didn’t know. She thought
this guy was amazing, so much her dream guy, that she believed him to be
just that! She fell in love with him right there, but never asked for
his number and couldn’t find him. A few days later she killed her
sister.
Question: What is her motive in killing her
sister?
Answer: She was hoping that the guy would appear at the funeral again.
If you answered this correctly, you think like a psychopath. This was a
test by a famous American Psychologist used to test if one has the same
mentality as a killer . Many arrested serial killers took part
in the test and answered the question correctly. If you didn’t answer
the question correctly good for you.”
I tried this on my husband. He said “because the guy she fell in love with was the funeral director”
Me: Of course, not, then she’d have had his name and number.
Him: OK, I give up.
Me: Cos she was hoping he’d come to the funeral. It’s ok, you don’t have the mentality of a psychopath.
Him (indignantly): But that’s what I was getting at.
Me: OK, you have the mentality of a not very bright psychopath.
on 26 September 2005 at 09:55
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https://www.belgianwaffle.net/2005/09/414/
Me: Um guy who went to the antartic with Shakleton?
Him: No, hero of the war of independence. From Tipperary. (Pause). I think you’re thinking of Tom Crean.]]>
People keep congratulating me on not having
delivered earlier. I suppose they are
just trying to say something nice. But it is odd. I mean, I presume no one who gives birth at
31 weeks actually wants to and itÂ’s really just the luck of the draw. I
suppose, if anyone deserves credit, it’s my loving husband who has done
the lion’s share of the childminding (tiring, back breaking work) for
the latter stages of this pregnancy.
People keep congratulating Mr. Waffle on his
virility as well as though having twins is an indication of superior
sperm. Odd. I mean, if anyone deserves credit here, it’s my genes and my eggs.
Conversation with spouse this morning.
Me: How will I keep my knees warm when the
twins are born?
Him: Eh?
Me: Well now my stomach keeps them nice and
toasty when I sit down.
Him:
Twin on each knee?
And finally, the
physio described giving birth to twins. Apparently baby 1 is
delivered as normal. Baby 2 tends to move around with all that
extra room. So the body often comes out first and, this is the
fun bit, it’s important that none of the medical team touches the baby
because that would trigger its startle reflex and it is not easy to
deliver a baby with its arms stretched out. So they all take a
step back and often put their hands behind their backs. I’m glad
I knew that in advance.
on 24 September 2005 at 14:18
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on 24 September 2005 at 17:31
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on 25 September 2005 at 02:07
As we’re stuck solidly in breech, I’ll have to have a caesarian (Oct 3), so we don’t get all the fun of waiting and wondering – which I really do think looks like fun.
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on 25 September 2005 at 07:06
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on 25 September 2005 at 14:25
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on 25 September 2005 at 16:51
JD, yes, I can see that.
Amerly, I suppose it’s not exactly a precise science, so maybe.
KE, am seeing doc tomorrow so I may have a better idea then. Fear she may make me wait another week.
Minks, HJB, still here.
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https://www.belgianwaffle.net/2005/09/410/
One of the many excellent things about giving
birth in the kingdom of the Belgians is that it is standard practice to go to a
physiotherapist for ante and post natal classes and the physiotherapist attends
the birth.
Yesterday I attended a class. Usually I go to a French speaking class,
partly because I think that the physio is clearer in French but mostly because
it panders to my notions about myself. Anyhow,
at the French speaking class itÂ’s a mixture of people who have had children
before and first timers but, for whatever reason, at the English speaking
class, they were all first timers. Oh
how superior I felt.
Here are some reasons why. Irish woman, due on the day of the class “is
there a birthing pool in the hospital?”
Frankly, lady, if you want to go down this route, do you really think
that itÂ’s a good idea to ask about it for the first time on your due date? In fact, I happen to know that the only
birthing pool in Belgium is in Ostend (please do not ask how I came by
this arcane knowledge), so it was really far, far too late for this. Meanwhile the physio had understood “birthing
pillow” and responded that there were dozens.
Mild confusion.
Slightly smug American lady asked the physio
“do you believe in the epidural?”. Given
that 96% of births in Belgium are with epidurals, IÂ’m betting
that she does. Seeing is believing.
Physio explained that she would come to the
hospital after the birth to do exercises and then, after a couple of weeks at
home, we should start coming back to classes.
Finnish woman asks “why don’t we go back to classes immediately after
coming out of hospital?”. Physio says
tactfully that this can be a tiring time.
“But” persists the Finnish woman “we can do them at home?” “Yes, you can do them at home”. “But” I’m thinking “you may prefer to use
that time to shower”.
Yes, I was irredeemably smug. Boy, am I riding for a fall.
on 23 September 2005 at 16:06
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kristin
on 23 September 2005 at 17:26
Dear Mrs. Waffle, i am in awe of your fortitude, still going to prenatal classes. I am putting up my feet in hopes you will follow my lead.
xo
on 23 September 2005 at 19:43
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on 23 September 2005 at 23:06
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on 24 September 2005 at 12:53
Norah, please write a blog entry on this! I’d enjoy that and I need to be humoured.
Kristen, FT is an American also, so he is entitled to be a bit sarky. Most of the Americans I know are not smug at all, no for a nation of smug souls, you need the Dutch.
Star, Jojo, thank you very much.
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https://www.belgianwaffle.net/2005/09/409/
“The file on H”
by Ismail Kadare. This is my second outing into the works of Mr.
Kadare, so I’m not a complete novice on matters Albanian. In fact
I once went on a day trip to Albania. Really, you’d rather not
know. But yet, Albania remains a distant and weird place to
me. Last night, Mr. Waffle and I gathered together the facts we
know about Albania:
King Zog
Prime Minister Fatos Nana
Great Roman remains
One of the dialects spoken in southern Italy is essentially Albanian
Battles with the Turks
Brought to its financial knees by the collapse of a pyramid selling scheme (I am not making this up)
Capital Tirana (other cities, if they exist unknown to us)
Enver Hoxha (dictator, unpopular with Russia)
Big believers in blood feuds
I think that Albania may be the weirdest country in the Balkans and that’s some accolade.
What ads do you think my blog will deem appropriate to go with this entry?
on 22 September 2005 at 16:08
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on 22 September 2005 at 16:09
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on 22 September 2005 at 16:14
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on 22 September 2005 at 16:16
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on 22 September 2005 at 16:46
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on 23 September 2005 at 10:28
Cookie, well, remember that this is our pooled knowledge.
Norah, yes I think you’re right about the goats.
FFE, yeah, I knew that really, just forgot to put it down. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Sweetie(s) given
Star80
on 27 September 2005 at 00:18
http://www.albanian.com/information/history/index.html
Stela
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