Mr. Waffle has put herself on his credit card for emergencies. To activate the card so that she could book her flight home for Christmas she had to use it in a shop. Mr. Waffle told her to buy herself breakfast. He fondly imagined that she would spend a fiver on a cup of tea and some toast in a greasy spoon. When he got the bill, he discovered she’d spent £28 in the Pain Quotidien. Truly, she is her mother’s daughter.
Princess
Sunday
Today is the feast day of St. Laurence O’Toole, patron saint of Dublin. We heard a lot about him in mass this morning. This made me think that it might have been amusing to have named the boys Fionn and Barra in a Cork tribute. They were not amused by this hilarious suggestion. Sometimes I feel I am “wasting my sweetness on the desert air”.
I went off to visit the Museum of Literature in the afternoon. I’ve heard mixed reviews. I thought it was interesting enough – though a bit pricey at a tenner in. A bit too much Joyce and UCD for me notwithstanding the quote below which I enjoyed.
And a great Brendan Behan quote too (though I was confused by the 1997 date for the quote as he died in 1964 – I mean was this live reporting from the underworld? – but on googling this quote seems to have been from a collection of his columns published in 1997).
I’m glad that I’ve listened to the Ulysses audiobook in preparation for the hundredth anniversary of its publication next February because the city is going to go crazy.
All the Christmas lights are up and town is full of people. Are we due another “meaningful Christmas”? I’m not sure I’m able for that.
The weather continues unseasonably mild. We tried to turn on the Aga yesterday but couldn’t get the wretched thing to light. As I fiddled with the pilot light, Mr. Waffle hovered in the background saying, “Swim, little polar bears, swim!” I sometimes feel he is not a fan. I see from the manual that it needs to be serviced regularly so perhaps a man can come and service it and get it lit as well. For the moment, it’s probably as well that we didn’t light it because we would bake.
In other news, herself continues to have the time of her life in England where all her vegan food needs are met. She is off to Paris for the weekend with a friend in a couple of weeks. And then skiing in December although she may sell her skiing tickets and go to a friend’s house instead with a group from college. “In December, what will her parents say?” I said, moved to sympathy by the thought of a bunch of college students descending upon them in the run up to Christmas. “I think if we stay in the east wing, we won’t bother them,” she said. Impossible to know whether she is joking or not. It is a far cry from my own college experience where the odd weekend in Kerry was the height of excitement available. Is she doing any work? I think so. Excitingly, the last trip she has booked is home to us on December 15. Very thrilling.
A Head Start
Saturday, November 6, 2021 (continued, yes, continued, this is what I have been reduced to)
We went out to dinner with friends last night and had a really wonderful time.
A definite highlight was their reaction to my apple jelly. I had given them a jar previously and they loved it. I mean really loved it, God I was delighted. I only regretted I hadn’t brought some more as there is lots more where that came from.
Our hostess opined that I was a closet Protestant given my jam making proclivities. I am not sure whether this is thing elsewhere but in Ireland Protestants are generally assumed to be good at crafts, baking and jam making. Although my mother’s family is descended from the Palatines who came to Limerick in the 1700s and my father frequently described her instincts as puritanical (“always leave when you are enjoying yourself most” was one of her catch phrases), I don’t really think that’s it.
She was in a position to have a view as her mother-in-law (our host’s mother, try to keep up) was a Scottish Presbyterian who, because of ne temere brought up four Catholic children. It was their own choice to send the boys to a Jesuit school but, I suppose, in for a penny, in for a pound. It was interesting to hear our host talk about going to Presbyterian services with his mother a couple of times a year; they were long but they had Sunday school. Once, when he was a child, there was some all-Ireland Presbyterian jamboree taking place in Dublin and members of the congregation were asked to put people up. His mother, explaining that she had a Catholic husband and children, put up two Presbyterians from Northern Ireland. Our friend said they were very pleasant men but terrified: they had never been in Dublin before and they had certainly never stayed in a house with Catholics but it all seemed to pass off peacefully. We had a chat about religion and he said, “I do it for the local Catholic community not for Rome.” Talking about “Rome” like that was so strange to me. I don’t really think of Rome at all or certainly not in the same way, it seems to me. I think having parents with two different religions must make you think about religion much more than if both your parents are Catholics and it feels like everyone else in the universe is too (Cork in the 70s and 80s).
We had a chat about our weekend in the Hague and it turned out that the gin production woman was their next door neighbour before she and her husband moved house. Because Ireland is tiny and we do, in fact, all know each other.
Sunday, November 7, 2021
In other religious news, our parish priest began this morning’s sermon with the words, “Remember, remember the 5th of November.” Does that strike you as at all odd? I mean he went on to talk about November being the month of the dead but I thought it was an unusual opening line even (or maybe especially) for someone who spent a long time working in England.
After mass I went into town and bought the head. I am delighted with her.
Michael and I had a mild walk in the Botanic gardens leaving Daniel at home to finish his homework. Poor Mr. Waffle was a bit under the weather and went to bed for a nap.
“And finally,” as they say on the news before they come to the human interest good news bit at the end. Thirty years ago, I moved in to a house share with a French girl in Brussels. In all the intervening years, we’ve stayed in touch and we’ve exchanged children and visited each other reasonably regularly. Today our daughters, of their own volition, met in England where they are both studying. Herself sent me photos. I am quite delighted.
Hope you had a good Sunday yourself. More tomorrow, God help us.
Right Up to Date
Monday, November 1, 2021
Return to school after mid-term break is always a bit of a challenge. Not helped by the weekend away. It was pretty chilly as well. Finally glove weather has returned; I was perished on my cycle in to work.
Before the October 22 announcement that everything was going backwards, I had volunteered to host in-person book club in my house and then, when things were a bit grimmer, I asked whether people still wanted to come and four said yes. Look, five is a quorum. It was a bit of a scramble to organise as we had only returned from Holland the previous evening but, happily, the culinary standards for bookclub are not high and people seemed happy enough with the frozen pizza. And we were all very happy to see each other. I am delighted to report that the talented women in both my Monday night and my Sunday afternoon book club appear to be taking over the world and we were all in very congratulatory mode and analysing media performances, if you don’t mind (it’s fair to say that we were not a tough crowd). I can’t help thinking about our mothers and how they stopped working or worked part time or generally had less good careers than our fathers and I wonder about all the expertise and brilliance that was lost to the world. But then we – and our husbands – are also all flattened and stretched in ways they may not have been.
Tuesday, November 2, 2021
I drove Daniel to training. I couldn’t bear to let him cycle. It’s just too tense; I’m terrified that he will be run over in the dark. Mr. Waffle posted herself her skiing gear in a large box (7kgs). I suspect she may not relish flying down the slopes with her new friends in her Lidl ski gear but it is perfectly effective, I will have you know.
I dutifully took down the Halloween decorations. If you think I should have cut up the pumpkin before putting it in the compost heap, your views are not welcome here.
Wednesday, November 3, 2021
While I was queuing for my lunch in a sandwich shop, I heard a radio DJ announce that U2’s “Achtung Baby” is thirty years old this week. This made me feel ancient so I thought I would spread the love.
In the evening I overheard Dan speaking in the kitchen, considering our fizzy water supplies, “How can five middle-aged women drink so much water?” It is true that my book club is a bit of a water into wine miracle: everyone only drinks water and they each bring a bottle of wine so at the end of the evening, you are definitely ahead on the alcohol content.
Daniel was in great form because the Dublin County Board (the GAA ruler in our kingdom) has determined that there is to be a new league for U17 boys and his team instead of disbanding has another year of playing together. He is thrilled.
I spent a full three weeks agonising about whether to apply for a job and tonight was the last night I could do anything about it and I let it go. The guilt was outweighed by the relief. Exhausting.
Thursday, November 4, 2021
I have my first social diary clash in years. I am going down to Cork for dinner for my sister’s birthday on November 12 and now I have also been invited to a dinner in Dublin. I welcome the return of the social whirl.
In other glamorous news, before I went to bed, I took something out of the freezer for dinner and I noticed that the drawers were filthy so I took out everything and washed the drawers in the sink. I think this may be crazy behaviour but the drawers look amazing.
Friday, November 5, 2021
I scampered out of work for my half day at 2.30 and spent the rest of the afternoon at home with the laptop open working on and off on something urgent – updating this post in the gaps between document drafts – which is not exactly an afternoon off but not fully on either. Look, we take our wins where we can.
You are fully up to date with my life. This is everything that has happened to me. I have no idea what I will post tomorrow. And it’s only November 5. It’s going to be a long month.
Updated to add: the car failed its NCT but my saintly husband is sorting it. Some problem with the headlights. Sigh.
Going Dutch
Friday October 29, 2021
Over the summer we were invited to a friend’s 50th in Holland and we booked flights in what we thought might be an excess of optimism but here we were, actually going. The airport was quite busy but travelling through to our gate was relatively painless. The flight was completely full – every seat. Aside from masks, it felt very normal indeed. Our friend met us at the airport in Holland and dispatched us to our accommodation in a taxi which felt pleasingly decadent.
I was delighted with the Airbnb I found us in the Hague.
It was beside the beach (fine, technically Schevening) and although it was definitely not beach weather, it was nice to see the sea. It had the extraordinarily steep ladder like stairs which come as standard in Dutch houses. I have no idea how old people manage. Maybe all the cycling keeps them super fit?
We went to the supermarket and we were the only people wearing masks. The Dutch only have to wear masks on public transport and everyone has abandoned elsewhere.
That evening we went to our friend’s 50th birthday party. Lads, a hundred people, a buffet and not a mask to be seen anywhere. It was like the before times: I loved it. The boys went off to play cards with the birthday girl’s children and Mr. Waffle and I mingled. We had a grand old chat with an old friend of the birthday girl who has left a very successful career in the law to move into gin production. Do you think I am making this up?
The venue was delightful: a big old house in the middle of a park with a lake. Apparently it used to be owned by Shell for the purposes of entertaining Shell bigwigs before becoming a venue for hire. All going well with Shell eh?
At 9 I took myself off to the airport to meet herself off her plane from England. This was fraught with difficulties due to my imperfect understanding of the Dutch public transport system. I found myself cowering on the tram rehearsing the lines I would give to the ticket inspector when it became clear that my transport card had insufficient funds. Happily the moment never came and I scurried into central station in the Hague and on to my train to Schiphol without further difficulties.
God, it was so nice to see my first born child. She was in terrific form and wanted to go straight to the party which we dutifully did and I am happy to report that we were among the very last to leave.
Saturday, October 30, 2021
We had a quiet morning and then went for a ride on the big wheel by the beach before taking ourselves off to our friend’s house where the boys continued their game with their Hiberno-Dutch friends and a neighbour’s child. Our friend fed all of us, her own family and her two sisters. Quite heroic. And one of us is now a vegan. As well as her own party the previous night and all the attendant relatives in town, she also had a friend’s 50th dinner party that night and her third child’s confirmation the following day. It was a lot but she seemed in great form in fairness.
Sunday, October 31, 2021
We decided to go to the Escher exhibition in town which was pretty good and the boys found it mildly interesting too which is always a bonus.
Herself was keen to go to the Mauritshuis. Off she trotted on her own. She was supposed to have booked a ticket but she hadn’t. The doorman liked her earrings and let her in anyway.
Earrings are visible above in the accidentally Wes Anderson shot of herself and Michael.
The Mauritshuis was free in for young people and she was delighted with it; full of old friends. She went wild in the gift shop: that’s my girl.
We had a final lunch together at the airport. We had to abandon herself half way through to run for our flight. I was sad to say good bye and leave her eating alone in an enormous international airport but it was probably for the best: we made our flight but it was a bit tight. Schiphol is quite a large airport, isn’t it? And two of us were selected for a very slow and deliberate random bag check which did not help matters. There were tense times in our little group. Separately, our 18 year old made her flight with lots of time to spare and a slightly superior attitude.
We got home to lashing rain, a delighted cat and a stream of trick or treaters for whom we had neglected to buy any sweets. Alas.
“It’s starting to get a bit cold, finally,” I said to Mr. Waffle, “Will I switch on the Aga?” “Not the weekend of COP 26,” said he. Everyone’s a critic.
I must say, it was nice to be away, away. I’ve really missed going to different places. I had forgotten how absolutely charming Holland can be. I do feel lucky to have been able to go: I fear restrictions may be back again later in the year so the timing was good. Will Covid ever end?
More of It
Tuesday, October 26, 2021
Saintly Daniel cut the grass in the back garden for what, I assume, is the last time this year. The weather is so peculiar.
The in-laws came to stay before heading back to England. Mr. Waffle went out to Tuesday night soccer where he managed to inadvertently hit a fellow player in the face with a ball. The other player went off to get an x-ray. Mr. Waffle arrived home a bit shaken.
Poor Dan was cycling back from GAA and fell off his bike on the grass slope by the side of the pitch. He suffered no injury except to his dignity but, as he pointed out, this was considerable, as he was encased in high vis gear from top to toe and visible probably from space and certainly from all over the pitch.
Separately, this pheasant turned up in my brother’s back garden in Cork city.
Wednesday, October 27, 2021
My little London niece was in great form over breakfast and I thought that she’s only got used to us and now she’s off but I trust we will see more of her from now on.
In response to Mr Waffle’s anxious enquiry, his colleague messaged him, that, yes, indeed, his jaw was dislocated but added in a Christian spirit which we can only hope to emulate, that Mr. Waffle should not worry and “it was a good clearance”.
Herself got a lovely care package from her London aunt and was very pleased.
At lunch time, I saw the guards had a road closed and I asked why. “VIP,” said the guard laconically. “Anyone interesting?” I asked. “Some Germans,” said she. Turned out it was the German president. You can’t impress a guard.
Thursday, October 28, 2021
I had a lovely long chat with herself at lunch time. She was procrastinating and I took full advantage of her desire not to get back to her essay. She seems to be having a fantastic time.
I knew I would be stuck late at work as the following day I was off and so it proved but I made it home eventually.
Daniel promptly departed in the dark on his bike for training at 8.15. I’m not sure that I am able for the wait until 9.30 when he gets back. I am absolutely terrified that he will be taken out by a careless driver.
So, why, you might ask, was I taking Friday off work? To go to Holland to a 50th birthday party, like the before times. Stay tuned for details of our exciting Dutch trip.
