We have just had a sofa delivered. The best dressed diplomat and her husband are leaving Brussels and we bought their sofa (though we took most of their other stuff – the beanbag, the mobile phone, the wine, the champagne etc.). It arrived today. We had asked for an outside lift. The movers when they arrived had no lift. They said they would carry it up the stairs. They did. They got grease from the lift on the arms and back. Which is exactly what happened to our last sofa when our movers brought it up the stairs. Which is why it was rejected by the Salvation Army and now sits alone and dejected in our garage. The movers say that this was my fault because I didn’t tell them about the lift (and ok I feel a bit stupid) but I was upstairs when they brought it up and I assumed that because they are professionals (unlike the chancers who moved our stuff) they would have wrapped the sofa. I should have checked. Bitter, bitter, bitter. The best dressed diplomat and husband are gutted (because they are very nice souls) and arrived round this evening with flowers, strawberries and promises to claim on their insurance.Is this not very annoying?
And here, for good measure, is our last sofa:
on 27 July 2004 at 22:44
Have you seen my pics? They only reinforce the ghastliness of matters…
on 27 July 2004 at 23:01
Nice lamp. Are throws fashionable in Belgium at all?
on 28 July 2004 at 08:05
I think they’re certainly going to be, silver.
on 28 July 2004 at 13:16
Hmm. Thanks people. I already have a throw but I wanted to give it to the Salvation Army but it looks like I may need to hang on to it a little longer..
on 17 August 2004 at 13:21
Bad luck – I witnessed our movers bodging a rectangular wardrobe through a doorway – widthways! Took three of them but they managed it in the end.
Cultural activities in Belgium
Today the Princess (much recovered thank you) and I had fun at two unusual locations. Firstly, the musical instruments museum where she danced around the exhibits (hanging on to the handrail) with her headphones on to the amusement of myself and other punters and secondly, Bruxelles les bains where we spent the afternoon at the seaside. Brussels is a two hour drive from the coast but for the next month they have closed off a quay on the canal filled it up with sand (imported from beaches on the north sea) and exotic food stalls and turned it into Brussels on sea. The Princess loved it. She was particularly keen on the water feature which was a series of fountains. A number of children were running through them in their swimming togs regardless of the chilly weather. The Princess wanted to run through them too and, with help from me, to her enormous delight, she ran before she could walk. We both got a bit damp but only one of us has a sore back.
I decided we would dine at the seaside and I bought a range of goodies which I thought might tempt her highness. She was not impressed. She sniffed at the tortilla, pointed out that she had already had a boiled egg today and asked whether I wasn’t worried about her cholesterol levels. The empanada was alright she conceded. Then she caught sight of an olive. She pointed at it imperiously. Being as putty in her hands, I passed it over and held my hand under her chin to catch it when she spat it out (I love the glamour that comes with motherhood). To my astonishment she loved it. She ate all the olives and lamented when they were gone. Is this not odd? She is clearly born to be a party girl, she can survive on olives alone. All I can say is, I hope she is not ill tonight from a surfeit of olives.
on 26 July 2004 at 12:58
DX, do you think they count as a portion of veg? Silveretta, fat chance, alas. 
on 27 July 2004 at 00:03
I’m no expert on child pyschology, but could it be that Princess already knows that July in Belgium mean mussels? She was probably expecting mosselen, frieten and a cold Hoegaarden.
on 27 July 2004 at 22:48
FT, um, no, no musssels in a month without an r. Unless, of course you mean Zeeland mussels?
Elves and illness
I saw the Lord of the Rings on DVD last night. Very good. Mr. Waffle rang at one point.
Him – Hi, it’s me.
Me – This isn’t really a great time. They’ve just reforged the sword of Elendil.
Him – (Deep sigh – he’s not much of a Tolkien fan, why do you think I never saw it in the cinema? He refused to take 3 hours of elves.) I take it everything’s ok then?
Me – Yeah, fine.
At 11.30, the Princess started roaring. I ran to her room to find her sobbing convulsively and when I picked her out of her cot, she was like a little oven. I brought her into our room and fed her nurofen which she promptly threw up over herself, me and the bed and continued roaring. I sponged her down. Still roaring. I gave her a perdolan (paracetemol suppository). Crying and shaking (her not me). Anxious mother worries – is she having febrile convulsions? But I held her in my arms and she started to calm down and after about half an hour fell asleep. Put her back to bed. Tried Mr. Waffle, phone out of range. Then worried that she hadn’t thrown up all the nurofen and that with the perdolan she might get liver damage. Rang my unfortunate parents, who know about these things. Roused them from their beds. Got the boxes of medicaments and told them of the dosages. Was reassured that she would be fine. Had I sponged her down? Yes. With tepid water? Yes. Call again if there was a problem. Went to bed. Lay in bed. Had the sponging water been tepid enough? Maybe she was cold. Went to her room. Felt her arm and head. She wasn’t cold but she did want to chat. Burbled at me for half an hour and finally went back to bed at 2.00. Woke promptly at 6.00 ready to face the day. Poor little thing, she isn’t really 100% today but then neither am I. I blame Tolkien.
on 25 July 2004 at 19:36
No, I’d blame Mr W for not taking you to see LOTR in the cinema in the first place – then this whole mess could have been avoided. Oh yes.No offence intended here, and feel free to disagree, but I’ve noticed a few times now that you seem to worry easily about herself. Though I’m sure it’s fair enough that parents are quite anxious when it’s their first child. It’s just that I wonder if these episodes where she’s bawls her eyes out (possibly mortifying you at Belgian parades) are because she know’s you guys will come running and attend to her every desire. Is that fair of me to say?
ps – I notice that you’ve joined the ‘new background’ gang also – even more cosmopolitan than before! 😉
on 25 July 2004 at 20:02
Beth, she is not a Mr. Bloom fan, particularly not with those long golden tresses…must have been something else.
Locotes, alas, we are all too conscious that we readily give in to her whim of iron. We were discussing the other day whether we could change her habit of chucking her food overboard for the hell of it. This is our new target. So far, results have been poor, much wailing (on our part) and a refusal to eat (on hers) until she has been given the wherewithal to create a dreadful mess. Will keep you posted on how the battle of wills develops. So far Princess 1: Parents 0.
Yes am v. proud of background. You should try it, go on, you know you want to..
on 25 July 2004 at 20:22
Maybe she’s an Aragorn kinda girl instead. Or Gimli even…he’d be more her size I suppose…Despite it all, I can’t help but admire herself’s innate feeling of self-worth and self-importance that any proper Corkonian feels. True, it makes your lives that smidgen more harder – but at least they’re qualities that will hold her in good stead in later life. I look forward to battle of wills updates. 😉
I had actually made a note of the code involved with backgrounds at least 6 months ago, but of course never got around to it (yet again living up to my blog name) – though I don’t know if 20six handle it easily now? I’ll have to wait until this blog-changing fuss dies down, I can’t be seen to follow the crowd. 😉
on 26 July 2004 at 12:57
Locotes, yes, I think you’re right, Gimli would be more her size and she would love that beard. Of course, she’s only half Cork, but yes, still showing through. Only changed my background because I found the option when I inadvertantly deleted my photo. But I am very proud of myself now and feel I am surfing the wave of youthful trendiness. If you had had it before it was easy to do, we would all have been very impressed but it’s too late now..
on 26 July 2004 at 13:55
Don’t worry, your youthful trendiness has always been apparent.
So there is a new option for the background. Dang. There goes my opportunity to impress you all (as you so generously pointed out) – I’ll have to find something else now. Some sort of dancing art-loving squirrel perhaps…
National Day
Yesterday was Belgian national day. Mr. Waffle was off work. Everything was closed. Stalls were put up. Military hardware was paraded. The royal family was out in force. I only know this from last year because when we went into the Sablon to partake of this year’s fun, the Princess didn’t want to join in and howled continuously until we agreed to take her home again. Trying.
And this evening Mr. Waffle leaves for his brother’s stag w/end (in Wales where a bunch of the lads will be running up Snowdon for fun – what an odd bunch – Mr. Waffle plans to take the train up, he’s not stupid, my husband) and he won’t be back until Sunday. Woe.
on 22 July 2004 at 20:28
Um, is this one of your clever puns? If yes, alas, don’t get it. Very distressing. If no, I haven’t a clue, but suspect it is slow.
on 22 July 2004 at 20:34
I find silveretta’s clever puns distressing too. And now I’m jealous of your wallpaper.
on 22 July 2004 at 20:34
None of my puns are clever BW. I simply meant that if the train won’t see him back till Sunday then it must be slow.I’ll get me coat.
on 22 July 2004 at 20:48
See Silveretta, it was a clever pun that I didn’t get. Knew it. Ta for wallpaper encouragement both. I am rather pleased with it. I found the option for background in my search to replace my waffle picture and since the other option for this pm’s entertainment was sending out cvs, decided to add one. It is a drawing of our street which a cartoon book drawing man (there must be an easier way to put this but you know what I mean) did for Mr. Waffle’s b’day. Cool eh?
Matters literary
Have read a volume from Ms. Hustvedt’s back catalogue. The publishing exec gave me a present of “The Blindfold”. It’s the kind of thing I don’t normally approve of – more or less plotless, three short stories tenuously linked by each other and a fourth chapter drafted to tie up loose ends, but I loved it. Except for chapter 4 which was weak. Am going to move on to “The Enchantment of Lily Dahl” as soon as the pub exec snaffles it for me. Having a sister-in-law in publishing has made me curiously unwilling to go down the traditional route of paying for my books.
And in other book news, the pub exec read my copy of the latest Marion Keyes which is set in the publishing world and felt a) somebody should tell her that Burberry is no longer cool, v. Essex apparently b) there weren’t enough lunches and c) editors not agents should be the heros. But aside from that she said it was reasonably accurate.
Have started “Blindness” by Jose Saramago. The heart surgeon recommended it. The heart surgeon is a bit of an overachiever (she can’t help it, she’s still very nice) in reading as in other things and I am a bit unnerved. She loved it. But she’s the kind of girl who only reads great literature and feels other stuff is really a waste of time. For example, I can pretty much bet that she didn’t spend last weekend rereading Georgette Heyer’s “Charity Girl” for the umpteenth time. So far I am on page 2 but I am a little daunted.
Got the new Jasper Fforde book on tape and in hard copy – thank you pub exec. Working my way through the tape. It’s a bit confusing to be honest even to someone who’s read vols 1-3 of the series. Maybe it’s overabridged but I must say, based on the tape, I am experiencing no enthusiasm to attempt the book. This man’s imagination is out of control. Heard him interviewed on the radio the other day and had this impression entirely confirmed.
Still stuck on chapter 1 of “The Bridge over the Drina”. Must try harder. Summer holidays beckon. Will achieve much am sure.
Oh Mr. Rops!
The publishing exec arrived on Friday night clutching to her bosom an array of exciting presents. Books all round and a teapot. The Princess is particularly taken with her book which, as a token of supreme approval, she has not even tried to tear. Publishing exec was full of tales of glitzy parties and famous people. She works in non-fiction at the moment and though I think, in her heart of hearts, she would like to be working with brilliant unknown authors on their difficult, yet brilliant, works of fiction, non-fiction has its compensations. Her bit of non-fiction appears to be the “you’re a famous person, why don’t you write a book?” end of things which I imagine doesn’t guarantee quality (think of Victoria Beckham’s biog or Bill Clinton’s) but does guarantee regular meetings with famous people. Famous people seem to be tortured by their book writing deadlines. And I can tell you that, even now, there are a couple of famous people who are being tormented at the prospect of spending the summer trying to finish that book that was supposed to be delivered for last Christmas. Being rich and famous isn’t everything, you know.
Saturday, we decamped to Namur. We felt that it was time that the publishing exec sampled the joys of Wallonia. I haven’t been to Namur in a long time and I was pleased at how pretty it was. I had only remembered the long tramp up to the citadel and not the appealing old town. It was very warm though. I was sorry that I had told the publishing exec to pack for March weather and, I suspect, so was she as she sweated in her jeans. We took a trip into the Felicien Rops museum which was air-conditioned and full of steps so all conditions were met for the Princess’s entire felicity. I had vaguely heard of Mr. Rops as a belle epoque artist and knew he had done some erotic stuff but I hadn’t realised that it was almost his entire output. The guy was a 19th century pornographer (oh yeah, now you’re all going back to check on the link) but it was quite entertaining stuff in a mildly outrageous way. Mr. Waffle, the publishing exec and I gasped while the Princess proceeded up and down the stairs watched over and attended to by the kindly middle aged ladies who were the guardians of the house of porn.
On Saturday night we left herself in the hands of the babysitter and went out to dinner. All very nice and I weighed myself on the antique but, I hope working, scales outside the bathroom (we have none at home in the interest of everyone’s well being) and weighed less than I expected which I was able to report to the waiter who was peering over my shoulder in mild interest. When we got home, I drove the babysitter back while Mr. Waffle and the publishing exec got stuck in the lift and had to effect a dramatic escape involving jumping between floors and potential risk to life and limb. All parties, including the lift, are now fine.
On Sunday, myself, the Princess and the publishing exec went to the Horta house which is Mr. Horta’s own art nouveau house. It is all very beautiful and everything but, if you check out the link, you will see that it is distinguished by its many flights of stairs which I walked up and down numerous times while holding a small girl by the hand. She never tires of stairs, our girl. All of the chairs in the house have little labels on them saying “please do not sit on this chair”. I presume this was meant to include, “please do not use this chair as a means of support for your filthy little fingers while cruising round the room” but they didn’t say so and as all of the other visitors were Italians who are notoriously indulgent to small filthy fingered people the Princess was free to cruise in peace.
Speaking of Italians, you will be delighted to hear that after many, many faxes (email? “no, non e possibile”) and a 300 euro postal order as deposit (credit cards? “no, non e possibile”) our guesthouse in Sicily has finally confirmed our reservation. This is a relief as I was responsible for booking in the entire extended Waffle family. I can’t help feeling that a pall would have been cast over my brother-in-law’s wedding had his parents had nowhere to stay due to the ineptitude of his sister-in-law (oh come on, I mean me…do try to keep up).
on 19 July 2004 at 12:00
Don’t be sarky miss. Very, very glad you’re back. I missed you. Hope you are feeling great.
on 19 July 2004 at 13:23
House of porn eh? And trying to justify your visit in the name of ‘art’. Tsk. I knew all you art lovers were a dodgy bunch behind it all…
Good news with the booking though – when’s the trip?
on 20 July 2004 at 21:45
Silveretta, it’s so difficult to guage the tone of a blog comment…
Locotes, you’re right about art lovers. Trip is end August, so it should be nice and warm.
