We are somewhat flattened after unpacking the 14 bags we needed to carry home the Princess’s Christmas gifts. Now, however, she “sleeps in her turret” as my mother in law would say and we rejoice. She’s exhausted from the strain of playing with a wide variety of exciting things. In particular, she enjoyed chewing on our luggage tags.
Hard to say whether she recognised the flat. She looked around with interest, but I think that she misses her court at home. She’s in for a nasty shock tomorrow when Mr. Waffle returns to work and it’s just the two of us. We won’t be able to go out either because pouring rain is forecast.
Belgium is perishing. Our flat is also a mite chilly and despite the fact that our radiators have been on full blast since our return, I am sitting writing this with my feet on a hot water bottle. All stand alone heaters have been moved to the Princess’s room to ensure that it is toasty.
Faithful readers (both of you) will see that I have added a new category – photos. This is for my father-in-law and my mother (yes, this publicising thing is getting out of hand), both of whom seemed reluctant to wade through my text to get to the photos. Ingrates!
My new year’s resolutions are as follows:
1. Get a job.
2. Start a bookclub.
So far I have made no progress with either. When is it that you can abandon your new year’s resolutions?
Happy new year.
Angie
on 06 January 2004 at 23:15
What if aforementioned faraway takes over six months to read an 800 page book?
And PS: Our 8-month-old does not sleep through the night. I keep telling myself that she wakes up so often because she loves us more than the average baby loves his/her parents, and she simply must scream about her love in hope that we’ll want to spend a bit of late night time with her…
Suicidal Bunnies
I got a book of cartoons from Mr. Waffle’s sister. Entertaining and sinister in equal measure. Mr. Waffle refuses to see the funny side but I can’t help liking it.
Princess Waffle got (inter much alia) 2 Dr. Seuss books for Christmas and was so pleased that she has already begun to suck the spines and tear out the pages. Parents were also very pleased.
Mr. Waffle is now reading the Peyps biography by Claire Tomalin and has abandoned the abridged diary and is reading my father’s full length 9 volume version. Am curious as to whether he will accomplish his mission before we leave on Friday. He is already on volume 3. Meanwhile I am still ploughing through volume 5 of Harry Potter. You can’t imagine how brilliant this makes me feel.
And while I’m writing about books can I nominate a further contender for worst book I read this year? Have you read Fingersmith by Sarah Waters? Dreadful. All year long Eileen Battersby has been knocking this book in the Irish Times. She would insert snide references to it in other reviews (along the lines of “this book is wonderful, not like the dreadful Fingersmith thing..”). I thought she was being cruel and snobby, but no, it is dire but at least it’s not as inexplicably popular as “Cold Mountain”. For all its faults, it is a page turner. Faults are many but am too tired to list them. Stay away, don’t say you weren’t warned.
Getting Religion
Took Princess Waffle to mass today. For the godless, today is the feast of the holy family so it was very appropriate. We felt like pillars of the community. The priest referred to Princess Waffle from the pulpit saying how wonderful it was that she clapped along to the choir. We were very proud and hung around outside to tell other members of the congregation that she is very advanced for her age. This is, in fact, the second time that Princess Waffle has been referred to from the pulpit but since last time the priest was slightly irate that she was roaring and interrupting his sermon, I would prefer not to dwell on that.
And in other news, my sister flew back to Chicago today after a brief week in Ireland. Americans don’t really believe in Christmas holidays and she had to beg and plead for the week off. She may have to give up her job in the US and come home so’s she can have decent holidays, but not, I hope, before I have had a chance to stay in her new apartment. Only slightly deterred by the thought of flying 9 hours with Princess Waffle.
on 29 December 2003 at 01:24
Your brave, I would never have the bottle to show family my weblog, in fact I would be really worried if they found it! So even if she doesnt like it, you deserve a medal for bravery!
Party on
We had a party on Saturday night for friends in Dublin. This was kindly co-hosted by Richard who agreed to let us use his house for our nefarious purposes. When I started writing this blog I was going to keep it deathly secret and build up a following by stealth on the internet but, frankly, two weeks in and with no one reading it, I felt that the party was the ideal opportunity to do some publicity. I told my friends, they were…interested. Sort of. My friend Cathy (I’m tired of thinking up imaginary names, it’s very tiring – I asked her siblings for suggestions for a code name but I just feel that their suggestions wouldn’t go down terribly well) rolled her eyes to heaven and said “My God, you’re already terminally indiscreet, are you sure you need a wider audience?” Yes, of course I do. However, I see that none of them has seen fit to comment on my blog. Very distressing. I am driven to the conclusion that they have not read it. I am quietly confident, nevertheless that a couple of days at home in the bosom of their families will force them to look for unusual avenues of entertainment and they will peruse this with, um, interest.
Party was slightly odd as Mr. Waffle was ill and we had to leave early so waved goodbye to our friends and left poor Richard holding the fort. I apologised profusely for abandoning him. “Not at all” he said affably “your friends are lovely people, whoever they are”. I understand that there were a number of exciting rows later in the evening. I particularly regret missing the row on benchmarking as the combatants were quite evenly matched…I understand it was a clash of the public and private sector titans. Richard said he was picking up glasses in the hope that the rowing parties would leave but they just dug their heels in and started to enjoy themselves while he gave up hope of ever getting to bed. A successful evening all round then.
In other news, I have done a lot of visiting since we returned. My friends are buying up the nicest houses in Dublin. I’m torn between envy and excitement. Largely envy.
Tomorrow will see our arrival in the real capital. I understand the local populace is waiting agog for the first viewing of princess waffle in some months.
Harry Potter
This is dreadful but after finishing my last book, I felt I owed myself a break and am rereading all the Harry Potter books for light entertainment. They really are very good and not at all taxing.  However, I feel the long ones are just too bloody long and I think she is losing it slightly. “The Order of the Phoenix” fails to grab me as much as earlier volumes.
Mr. Waffle is reading Pepys. At least one of us is an intellectual.
Parking
We’re off to Ireland for our holidays today. Yippee. However, despite the fact that Ireland is a digital hub access to broadband is strictly limited and am not sure I will be writing entries on a dial up line – so there may be no new entries until January 6. I am sure that you are all holding your breath etc.
In other news, we have a car parking space. Oh rejoice, no more driving around for hours looking for a space. Last night Mr. Waffle arrived home tired and dishevelled having spent half an hour looking for parking and having walked 20 minutes from where the car was eventually parked. On the minus side, I may lose my fab car parking skills. I can now park in almost any space. This morning I parked in an entrance, stuck on my hazard warning lights and went off to chat to our insurance broker for 20 minutes. I am becoming a real Belgian (illegal parking is a national sport). On my return, alas, there was a large lorry parked beside my car and the driver was tooting his horn in considerable irritation. My winning smile and baby Waffle’s cheery wave seemed to infuriate rather than calm down so we sped off before he could physically attack us.
All this reminds me of a number of Belgian parking stories.
Story 1 – The glam potter was out shopping and returned to find her car boxed in. As she had only 1 hour to go home, pack and take her train to the UK she was tense. She cursed, she hooted her horn but no joy. She paced. She noticed a slip of paper on the ground saying that the owner of the offending vehicle was in the restaurant opposite. She stormed in and identified the owner who was sitting calmly having lunch with friends. Glam potter felt that she would not be able to express her irritation properly in French so she said to the woman “Do you speak English?” Woman confirmed that she did and GP roared at her “You stupid cow”. Driver got to her feet to move car and turned out to be 8 months pregnant. Poor GP, most embarrassing.
Story 2 – When I was about 7 months pregnant I met a friend for lunch, let us call her the french horn player. When she arrived at the restaurant I asked her whether she had found parking difficult. “No” she said “I parked on the roundabout”. Yes, indeed the roundabout at Place Stephanie is often used by reckless Belgians as a parking spot. We emerged from lunch only to find that the car had been towed. Extraordinary. I went with FHP to the police station and the police were most sympathetic. I have to say that my experience of the Belgian police had not led me to expect this.
FHP – My car was towed and it wasn’t in anyone’s way.
Policeman – That’s terrible, where was it.
FHP – On the roundabout at Place Stephanie
Policeman – Oh I know where you mean, of course, you weren’t in anyone’s way, what a pain for you, but I suppose it is technically illegal.
Waffle (sotto voce) – To park on a roundabout, yes, I would have thought so.
FHP – I wonder is there any way I can get away with not paying the fine.
Policeman – Hmm (looks at me appraisingly), I see your friend is pregnant, if you hadn’t parked there, she would have had to walk a long way…
Me – But I got there under my own steam, I took the tram…
Policeman (ignoring this unworthy intervention) – Yes, she would have had to walk a long way, get a cert from your friend’s gynaecologist and I think we can get you off.
Honestly.
Anyway enough Belgian parking stories. Hope you have a very happy Christmas.
