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Mr. Waffle

Snow Snow Come Out in the Snow!*


Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Work

It snowed on Friday. By coincidence, I worked from home on Friday. I almost never work from home. It’s handy for me to get into the office and working from home reminds me of the grim, grim, grim first couple of months of Covid. But I do work from home very occasionally and I was scheduled for my ergonomic workstation assessment which has to be done from your home workstation. You wouldn’t think this would be a source of confusion but it obviously was as I got several reminder emails that you had to be at your home workstation to do it. You will be pleased to hear that my home workstation is entirely ergonomic. I certainly was and quite surprised too.

Anyway, being at home gave me a chance to admire the snow. I remember when it snowed last year and I was on my career break I got to go to the park to admire the snow. But, sure look, snow is snow.

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I cannot say that I was equally delighted with the icy rain and slush I had to contend with that evening when (sticking to my principles)

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, I cycled to dinner and a comedy gig. The journey there and back again was grim (no actual dragons encountered but does needle sharp rain count as a serious obstacle?). I also felt like I was the oldest person at the comedy gig, not helped by the fact that the comedian’s Dad was a former colleague of mine and the butt of some mild joshing which I very much felt applied to me also mutatis mutandis. Still, overall an enjoyable venture and if my inner smugness about cycling in the appalling weather didn’t keep me warm, at least my waterproofs kept me dry.

*This is from a book I read to the children when they were small but, alas, the author’s name eludes me.

Did I Not Dance With You in Brabant Once?*


Posted in: Belgium, Mr. Waffle, Siblings, Work

I was at a round table event during the week. I was introduced to the chair and we looked at each other for a bit and I said, “Did I last meet you in an escape room?” I had. He is a buddy of my sister’s partner and we all went to an escape room for his (sister’s partner’s) birthday last year (look, it takes all kinds).

As I looked around the room there was another man who looked familiar. During a break in proceedings I asked him, “Were you by any chance working in [place] in Brussels in November 1998?” He confirmed – looking a bit puzzled, I have to say – that he was. “You were sitting beside me at dinner the night I met my husband,” I said to him. He was surprised. We both knew the birthday girl – a friend in common – but he had no recollection of the dinner. Look, more important to me than to him. We hadn’t met since but I recognised him because he was unchanged. He was a perfectly normal looking 50ish year old but he was a very old looking 30ish year old. He was bald as an egg then and very slender and, obviously, he’s still bald now and also, less obviously, still very slender.

As I was scuttling away after the event , I ran into the next group coming into the venue. One of them looked a bit familiar. I pressed on. She called out to me, “Don’t I know you?” I turned back. She is a friend of a friend who had twins last year. My friend suggested we meet to give her some advice – although as my twins are not 18 my advice was a bit…dated. When I gave out my advice, she was 7 months pregnant but she had had her babies since and was able to show me a photo of them on her phone and very cute they were too – they looked great and she looked great; obviously my advice was excellent.

Even by Irish standards where everybody knows everybody, this was a lot.

*The title for this post was suggested by my first born. It’s from “Love’s Labour’s Lost” apparently.

Pancakes


Posted in: Mr. Waffle

An Irish friend of ours lives in the Netherlands, is married to a Dutch man, has four Dutch children, speaks fluent Dutch and works in the Dutch public service. Perhaps bowing to the inevitable , she has recently become a Dutch citizen but, like all Cork people in exile, she remains very much a Cork person also.

I thought of her during the week as on pancake Tuesday, I always recall her absolute outrage at having seen in a shop a packet of pancake mix emblazoned with the words “Just add an egg and milk.” “It’s just flour,” she said, “how can people not know they’re just being sold overpriced flour?” How indeed? Her reaction is the perfect combination of Cork/Dutch; a worthy daughter of both speaks.

O Canada


Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Dublin, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Reading etc.

Due to the extremely generous citizenship policy of the Canadian government, four of the members of our family are dual Irish/Canadian citizens. You might think this is only upside but the guys’ certificates of citizenship arrived in the post recently and there’s an oath of loyalty to King Charles on the back which was a bit of a surprise for them. Mr. Waffle was born in Canada and lived there until he was 2 so not only is he a Canadian citizen but so are all his children. Pretty good, eh? I don’t know what will happen to me, if they all move to Canada though.

I am currently in hiding from my local library staff (perhaps I would be safe in Canada?) as I recently brought back one of the popular 10 day loan items in less good condition than I borrowed it. I am sorry. But not as sorry as I was when the woman on the desk took it off the returns trolley (it’s all automated now) and sniffed loudly and then said

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, “Well that’s a shame.” As I took out my next book I distinctly heard sounds of tearing and a thud in the wastepaper basket. I fled without turning around but if she did tear it up and throw it out that strikes me as excessive. So there.

Out and About


Posted in: Ireland, Mr. Waffle, Reading etc.

Mr. Waffle and I went for a day out in Carlingford over the bank holiday weekend. We have been going there for the guts of 20 years and there are only so many walks around the mountain yet almost every time we get lost and most times we get wet. This time was no different. Enjoyable all the same. And we had a lovely lunch afterwards in this cafe which I really recommend if you find yourself in this neck of the woods. And why wouldn’t you when it is so very pretty even when you are lost in the rain? All the same, I was glad we were not accompanied by three small children.

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My new year’s resolution to go to the cinema more often has been working out really well. I’m delighted with myself. Mr Waffle is my, broadly willing, accomplice but he says that I’ll have to find someone else to go to “Zone of Interest” with. We went to see “American Fiction” last week which we both really enjoyed. It’s clever and funny. It’s a companion piece to “Yellowface” in some ways. This was a point made in a long article in the FT a couple of weeks ago but I noticed it too. Honest. Would recommend the film in any event. Our film of 2024 so far.

We were supposed to be going to the theatre tonight to see a play called the President with Olwen Fouré and Hugo Weaving. I booked it last September. Am I in fact at the theatre? I am not. I have come down with (yet another) dreadful cold and am planning to spend the evening wheezing and coughing in the comfort of my own home. Alas. I gave my tickets to a colleague who was feeling gloomy. Hope this won’t make him worse.

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January Round Up


Posted in: Cork, Daniel, Family, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Reading etc., Siblings

Herself went back to England. Alas alack. We will not see her until Easter at the earliest. She is a bit preoccupied about her post-college employment/study plans and fears that she may have to move back home. She’s appalled. I’m delighted but I feel that one of the many irons she has in the fire will mean that her worst fears will not be realised.

Here she is the day she got back to college dutifully preparing not to remove her nose from the grindstone for many months.

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I went to Cork and had a January Christmas dinner with my siblings. Honestly, not as satisfactory as an actual Christmas dinner but not too bad. We went to the River Lee hotel which used to be Jury’s where we went for post communion and confirmation lunches but has now gone upmarket. It was grand. Busy. A bit pricey for what it was, I thought.

I went for a walk in the Lee Fields (very unusually not underwater) with my sister and her partner.

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I totally lost track of time meaning that I had to cycle to the station at epic speeds weaving through Sunday strollers like a middle aged man in lycra trying to set a new personal best time. I made it with minutes to spare. It took a lot out of me.

Michael had his play. It wasn’t too bad and he was on stage a lot. But whatever way you slice it, Hamlet is a long, long play and I was exhausted by the time it was over. Obviously worse for Michael but he got to be on stage which I think he rather enjoyed. A couple of his friends turned up with a sign saying we love gravedigger number 2 and I was charmed.

Over the holidays, while Mr. Waffle and I were at work and Michael was at endless Hamlet rehearsals, Daniel stepped up to the plate and cooked dinner a number of times. It was absolutely delicious. These talents did not come from me. He also has a new haircut. The young people; would you be up to them etc.? He has also been concussed by the GAA – the bane of my life. He’s recovering but it’s taking the best part of a week. First his tooth, now his head. He’s mostly been exhausted for days and days but he went back to college today and is feeling a bit perkier after doing some theoretical physics.

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We had some friends around to dinner which was great but also exhausting. Timing meant that we were supposed to have Mr. Waffle’s aunt (home from Australia) and the cousins over for dinner the following night but happily the aunt cancelled – I mean sorry not to see her and sorry she was not feeling up to it but pleased not to be doing a second large catering event on the trot. I skipped out to my Sunday afternoon bookclub with, well, a skip in my step.

Speaking of book clubs, my Monday night book club has had a change in its operating model for the first time in 25 years; there are 12 of us and this year we all got to pick a book a month for the next year; two people were happy not to suggest and so December is still open – honestly, possibly a relief. Normally it’s a bit of chat on the night and a consensus. I felt very much the weight of responsibility in picking my one book for the year. Herself says that it is unfair on me as under the old system, due to my domineering ways, I got to pick way more than one book a year. The jury is currently out for obvious reasons but the 2024 selection does look quite worthy. That said, very much enjoying “Yellowface”. You may guess which was my suggestion.

  • February: Yellowface
  • March: The Saint of Lost Things
  • April: The Bee Sting
  • May: Demon Copperhead
  • June: The Vulnerables
  • July & August: Life in the Balance and A Place of Greater Safety
  • September: Harlem Shuffle
  • October: Enlightenment
  • November: A Tale of Love and Darkness

As part of my new year’s resolution , Mr. Waffle and I have been to the cinema twice this month. We saw “Poor Things” (really still not the better of it) and “The Holdovers” (quite sweet but would have been definitely a better viewing experience in the run up to Christmas rather than after it). More scintillating cinema reviews as we get them.

In tooth related news, my electric toothbrush disappeared for 24 hours and I carried out extensive inquiries, even texting my cleaner. It turned out to be on the stairs hidden by a banister. It was on the stairs because I had put it there to go back upstairs after its little adventure at the charging station which, for reasons I will not bore you with, is downstairs (see I do hold some things back). Oh great was the rejoicing among my children whom I am constantly upbraiding for their inability to see things sitting on the steps waiting to go upstairs.

And, in further tooth related news, my dentist has decreed that I need another crown. This is my third in as many years. What is it about my 50s? Are my teeth all going to crumble and fall out of my mouth having worked perfectly for all these years? Apparently yes. And today as I sat at my desk eating a sandwich, my temporary crown (installed following a, frankly unpleasant, session in the dentist’s chair) fell out. Back to the dentist this evening. Reinstalling was fine really but I look forward to the moment at the end of February when my permanent crown is installed. Sigh.

This weekend, we went to a Burns night supper with our friends. We went for the first time in 2020 and little though I knew it then, it was to be our last big night out before the pandemic. It was weird to be back but in a good way. I felt like a veteran this time and was ready for the “Address to a Haggis“. We had such a nice evening – I do hope we make the cut again!

I went to IMMA for the first time in ages on Saturday. I am always a bit ambivalent about modern art and indeed I found the RDS audiovisual winners in general not to my taste. However, there is also an exhibition called “self-determination” about the new nation states (including Ireland) that were established in the wake of WWI and that was really fascinating. It runs until April so if you’re local, you have plenty of time to go and see it. If that doesn’t float your boat, you can also inspect nightmare bunny (may not be the name chosen by the artist) who is outside the main entrance.

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I went for a walk with friends in the park and despite the fact that rain threatened, it did not rain and we had our walk, a scone after and a chance to inspect the millions of deer with which the park is overrun.

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At mass last Sunday we had to fill in a survey about which mass time suits us best; the beginning of the end for some masses I’d say. It’s inevitable with all the priests getting so old. Next weekend is our new post-Covid bank holiday weekend in celebration of St Bridget whose feast day is on February 1 so the priest referred to her and quoted the opening lines of that lovely poem “Anois teacht an Earraigh“. This made me think of my mother whose birthday was on February 1 and who always quoted that poem at this time of year. She always really enjoyed celebrating her birthday and it makes me really happy that it now has a bank holiday devoted to it which she would really have liked. But somehow, as the priest said the poem, I found myself just feeling sad and missing her. That’s the way it goes, I guess.

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