Tuesday, 10 June 2014

Trevor Jordache on the sax

How are you?

Bank Holiday Weekend here (again). Yesterday I had to pick up ten broken eggs from the floor and clean the chicken house and unblock the lavatory and correct 17 grammar exercises all before midday, then gorged on Daim pieces (relic of Ikea trip of hell) until I lost all sensation in my mouth. What do they put in Daims? Is it legal? On Sunday our next door neighbour (the one with the saxophone and the jazz records) had a violent psychotic break and stood in the back garden screaming that he was going to kill us all and bury us in the garden. I don't remember Saturday, but it's probably for the best. Oh, no, hang on I do remember: we went on our Ikea trip of hell where L insisted on a hideous, strictly '80s monochrome theme for his bedroom. F stayed at home watching Rubik's Cube videos. It's very retro round here.


Day of administrative grimness and insufficient funds.

Printer - so long a shining beacon of reliability - has failed, just when I have fistfuls of invoices to print.

Remains of ten eggs in bin in heatwave = terrible.

Summoned to headmaster's office following An Incident. Not good.

Impending child exams are making for wearying evenings of accords des participes passés des verbes pronominaux, Belgian rivers and Dutch irregular verbs.

Too fat for much of somewhere wardrobe. I blame that BASTARD juice detox. I have been eating solidly since it finished. I also blame anxiety, which has led me into the perfidious arms of cheap wine.


No one threatened to kill us today.

Discovered I have another ten days to pay a load of bills I thought were already overdue.

Read the most wonderful book (this) which was both a delight and an inspiration. MY GOD THIS MAN WRITES BEAUTIFULLY.

Not very busy, which will rapidly become a down, but for today was quite pleasant. I have reduced my office from darkest zone of shame to mild disgrace.

Interesting and very un-Belgian stormy, hot weather. Dog is appalled, but I rather like it.

Jolly chat with Papa Waffle last night. Emboldened by his expansive good humour, I voiced my grievances about him getting himself a life sized bronze horse when he was never prepared to buy me a real one and since he was apparently slightly tipsy he said "ah, well you never know hon", which I have of course interpreted as meaning that he WILL buy me a horse for my fortieth birthday. I will nourish this fantasy for a few months, I think. Maybe speculating on the type and colour of horse. This will make up for the year he got me the Times Encyclopaedia of World History when I was 14 (my father will never buy me a horse) (and if he did, what the fuck would I do with it?) (I can still dream though).

Delicious lunch (for a review) on Saturday (see? Something good did happen on Saturday) including spookily moreish buckwheat ice cream, which sounds horrible but was a bit like highly superior cereal milk à la Momofuku, with tiny chocolate truffles hidden underneath it. Here. 2 courses for €15, highly recommended, Belgians.

It's now time to watch three hours of overwrought French patisserie competition on the telly.

A picture: 

Meanwhile, recommended for me: 

Yeah, thanks, 4OD.

50% knackered
20% itchy
10% bored of Minecraft/Rubik's Cube/Clash of Clans
10% Entering interesting - if probably short-lived - phase of relatively serene fatalism.
10% Old El Paso scented.



soleils said...

"On Sunday our next door neighbour (the one with the saxophone and the jazz records) had a violent psychotic break and stood in the back garden screaming that he was going to kill us all and bury us in the garden"

er... what?

Please to elaborate, I am most concerned.

mountainear said...

Neighbours eh? Our's spends the weekend either chain-sawing (winter) or strimming (summer) which leaves me wanting to scream blue murder at him.

And on the subject of parental gifts - for my 16th birthday I was 'lucky' enough to receive a school scarf and a grey school jumper. It rankles still.

Anonymous said...

My commiserations about exam season. Last weekend There was much gnashing of teeth and Many tears as my daughter grappled With european geography: Rivers, mountains, penínsulas, gulfs, islands, seas, straits, plains, capital cities and every conceivable geographical fact from Iceland to the urals. Including extensive details of former Yugoslavia states. At one point she cried all the harder when I tactlessly mentioned that they used to be a single nation. Seriously, in the age of google, is it necessary to learn this kind of thing in so much detail? It seems utterly pointless to me, not that I could tell her that. How many times will she need to know the names of the tributaries of the Danube? Thank goodness all the eggsams are over until after the summer. May your exam season fly by and may your children absorb all the pointless info by osmosis. Hats off to frazzled parents the world over.

Anonymous said...

And the neighbour sounds worrying. I trust he never has access to your property? I hope you have alerted authorities so he gets the help he seems to need.

M said...

How to deal with Death is actually quite cheering. You should watch it.

Xtreme English said...

I NEVER buy shrimp any more. the ones from louisiana have no eyes, and further out in the gulf, they have no heads. gah. who can eat this crap??

Sal said...

Bloody fathers and encyclopaedias and their indifference to ponies. Unwrapping the latest Junior Pears whilst carefully crafting a mask of gratitude was a common childhood disappointment. I have since bought my own ponies and use Google for the rest like a normal person. Still revising age 40 though, bloody exams. Your blog distracts me beautifully with temptations of gorgeous books I can't read until next year sometime. Every post enriches my day. Discovered Daim this week....OMeffingG! Coincidentally I bought bigger clothes, so feel lovely again, though am very aware that this strategy has limited long term possibilities.

Waffle said...

Soleils/anon - He's in hospital at the moment. Thank goodness.

Esme - Can you show us pictures of your ponies? I yearn for them.

breakfastlady said...

Thank you dear Waffle for solving my Father's Day gift crisis in one fell swoop. I'll buy the book and pretend the 8yo chose it. He'll never know. What is it with Father's day? It's like all shops have totally given up even attempting to think of something original (by which I do not mean 'remote-controlled helicopter' or 'novelty mug') and even the usually reliable JL is offering me a choice of golf balls, Toblerones or DVDs of Damon Hill's greatest races. I actually don't subscribe to either Mother's Day or Father's Day on principle, but DP feels dreadfully hard-done-by if we don't make the effort. Bah.
RE ponies, I would like to rewind a minute and ask what on earth your father is going to do with a life-size bronze horse? Heavens.

Waffle said...

BL - God knows. I've learnt not to ask.

frau antje said...


Think I may have REALLY FUCKED UP, and not in a good way.


Having at least mediocre success at ignoring DOWN.

Someone giving your neighbor the patient care and respect that he is unable to give others. YES, YES, OKAY! I'm jealous that YOUR neighbor is in some hospital.

Ran into a young Danish man with a backpack from the school in Copenhagen I spent a year at. He was amused to hear that one of the guys had written a blues song about the headmistress, and that the designer of a major American monument had gone there. Also, that the recent spate of Danish tv shows made me realize I only remember the word lort. Actually, I still know how to say, 'I love you, when are you going home?'...but decided to cut him some slack.

Sarah L. said...

The chickens can eat the eggs! I know it sounds a bit morbid, but they totally can. I do it all the time. The like and need the calcium and protein. If you crush up the shells, their tiny brains never catch on, so they don't start going after the whole ones. In fact, they can eat all manner of kitchen refuse except for avocados (deadly...not sure why), onions, coffee grounds, uncooked potato (cooked is fine), and citrus.

Well...that's it. Your chicken husbandry tips for the day.

Anonymous said...

Hello again from anonymous on The Observer. Can't find your email address any more, for some reason, could you drop me a line?

Waffle said...

Sarah - Ha! I suppose I could have brought them into the kitchen to clear up, but imagine the carnage.

Anon - Done.

LS said...

I love all your writing, always, but what I love most of all is your adjective for the juice cleanse. Hope you have a better weekend xxx

Betty M said...

Can highly recommend the author's first book set in Bucharest too.

I have a mad alcoholic neighbour who regularly has violent arguments and screaming matches with a shrieks girlfriend who is identical to his previous one. They throw the furniture from the sounds of things and I hate it. It's at teh stage where we seriously thing one of them will injure the other and we will be the next door neighbours who were too nervous to call the police. Shudder.