Tuesday, 7 July 2015

What Is Happening Today




Tuesday, heavy, overcast, close. Uccle has already sunk into its traditional summer torpor, broken only broken by occasional visits from chuggers, red-faced and insistent men from Flanders trying to sell me sacks of potatoes and DHL delivery operatives bearing Rubik's cubes. The children have been out at their mandated improving activities all day and now they are back, furiously internetting to make up for lost time. The dog is lying very flat and very still on the tiled hall floor. I tried to lie down next to him earlier, because it looked cool and restful, but he pushed me quite deliberately in the face with a paw, then, when I didn't move, got up and stalked away.

I should probably think about dinner, because we have no food (apparently gin and Picard gougères isn't a meal, which seems a very myopic attitude to me) and I fear I must go to the depressing shitty Carrefour down the road for some grey slice of animal, but I am stranded on top of my bed in a tepid stew of aimlessness. I have done the easy bits of my editing, only one tiny and two small bits that require thought remain and thought seems to require aimlessness, so that is what I am doing: fuck all. That is fine as long as I don't think about all the other, more productive humans out there. If you've achieved anything this week, just don't tell me, eh?


Current domestic flashpoints

The opening and shutting of windows. Do you live in a house where every resident is in agreement on the optimum temperature and circulation of air? You are fortunate.

The bowls of plastic beads submerged in water dotted around the kitchen and bathroom, like so many clusters of frogspawn. I do not know what the point of these is. I have chosen not to enquire.

The dismantled Rubik's cubes, left in pieces on every flat surface, then placed in freezer bags by a disgruntled, well, me, then abandoned on the stairs.

The chickens, who are raucous, from early in the morning. The plastic bag in the chicken coop which no one has removed despite my requests.

Children's apparently lack of familiarity with basics of plumbing, esp. flushing lavatories.

Socks, discarded everywhere, in crumpled balls of squalor.


Current notes on my phone

Wikipedia link to the entry on the Gold Standard.

"Murderous single-minded shotgun"

A text for translation that contains the phrase: "ignite a relative radiance in the cosmic funkitude".

"I have such a strong muscle memory of this house"

"Bat1180?"

"Arab stallion -> jokes"

"Moustaches bristling syphilis fermenting"

"Monkey riding deer"

"Enright tea hot cross bun"

"VSM frites"

"Aspirateur et sac - Home and Away"


Current anxieties

Why do I have no money (I know the many and varied reasons, but somehow this does not help)?

Saw a picture of myself from the weekend and I look very fat even though I thought I was looking good (reverse body dysmorphia strikes again).

Book.

Everyone is getting older and I do not like it.

I have ordered new glasses and they are more of a Statement than the current pair and I do not know whether I will still like them when they arrive.


Current delights

A new series of Ru Paul's Drag Race has reached Netflix.

The children are gainfully (or possibly not gainfully, I am indifferent) occupied for the next 2.5 weeks and after that it is only a few days until we go and hide in Yorkshire for a fortnight.

Many promising books hoarded and ready to read (you know that even when I don't update my blog I update my reading list, don't you? I do.).

Chameau/Chat mort hilarity.

It is now time for gin and Picard gougères.




You? Any contribution to any of these categories?

22 comments:

T said...

Do the monkeys riding deer have anything to do with a nature documentary about Japan? It's just that only last night I was watching monkeys riding deer as my cure for insomnia. (It worked.)

Current delight AND anxiety: Sainsbury's is selling Terry's Chocolate Oranges for a pound. £1. 1 GBP. I am delighted. My teeth and waistband are anxious.

Sarah R said...

1. what gin isn't a meal - assumed with slice of citrus = meal + 1 of 5 a day
2. My dogs balefully glare hairily (?) at me, then appear to have shed a spare dog when I get home
3. Children - at 26 - don't improve with flushing
4. Money - meh
5. Glasses - need reading glasses, 50 in 16 days, not wearing till then
6. Diet supper, gin, lime (no savouries/solids)

CJ said...

Picard gougeres sounds so fancy it most certainly qualifies as meal if served with some artisan gin. I have accomplished absolutely nothing this week, and although that has put me in a high state of anxiety, I am still wandering around the blogosphere as if I have not a care in the world. No money here either, and two Rubik's cubes delivered this week, one speed cube, all the better for whizzing round in record time, and one that only has eight pieces, ie. two rows of two on each face. Just in case normal Rubix and speed Rubix were not enough. CJ xx

tracy said...

Not unhappy the Rubik's Cube obsession has gone from our house. That clickity clackity sound, though much smoother than I ever remember it being in the 80s, was one of those background noises I am better off without.

Dale said...

What is this money you speak of?

I need new glasses but lack the resources, both financial and psychological, to do something about it.

Also mulling over several untranslatable nuggets of German, smooth and hard and impenetrable as glass --- the buggers pride themselves on their untranslatable words.

Not only have I gotten almost nothing done this week, but an unbelievably silly work thing looms this weekend. Just the thought of it makes me damp with despair.

Capital picture of you and weepette!

Anna Maria said...

So pleased you enjoyed Diplomatic Baggage. I'm honoured to be mentioned, thank you.

Waffle said...

T - YES. That programme was so amazing. I have no idea why I wrote it down but it was fantastic.

CJ - Ugh, we now have 2x2, 4x4, 5x5, 7x7, pyramid-y ones... and all in pieces on my fecking staircase.

AM - It was a complete delight, such a great recommendation, thank you!

Nimble said...

The good thing about new eyeglasses is that you mostly don't have to look at them, that's everyone else's job.

I recently realized all the things I can't do when my car has a flat and all the things I prefer not to do when rain is pouring down. I am going to go to the tire store at noon to ask them to patch my tire and I will expect a medal afterwards. My husband put the spare on last night so I suppose he needs a Nobel Prize.

Court intrigue fantasy novel delight: The Goblin Emperor. Lots of invented vocabulary and courtier machinations.

mimi smartypants said...

I have the reverse dysmorphia in the worst way. I leave the house looking all svelte and confident and then I show up in a photograph WHO IS THAT CREATURE.

Anonymous said...

I believe you like the Moomins? ;)

http://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2015/07/09/a-right-size-dream/

Patience_Crabstick said...

I thought I had the plague but it turned out to be chigger bites.

Waffle said...

Mimi - On some level I still think our way is the best way. We just need to avoid cameras.

Anon - Oh, that is lovely! Thank you.

Anonymous said...

Glad you liked that article about Tove Jansson. :)

The interviews with writers in The Paris Review are brilliant, I particularly like the one they featured with Herta Müller. Here are some excerpts:

"Language is so different from life. How am I supposed to fit the one into the other? How can I bring them together?"

"It’s the words that are hungry. I’m not hungry for words, but they have a hunger of their own. They want to consume what I have experienced, and I have to make sure that they do that."

"None of this was familiar, and I was so hungry. But first I had to discover it. And at one point I realized that literature was the continuation of what I’d done as a child—using my imagination. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but essentially I had been turning everything into literature, in my head, without knowing what literature is."

"It was an inner need, just so I could have some sense of security, to assert myself somehow, to find my place in the world, in my surroundings, in my loneliness. It was just like writing—I was all by myself, and no one was allowed to know what I was thinking, because if they had known they would have thought I was abnormal, and I didn’t want them to tell me I was crazy and send me to the doctor, and then have him tell me I had some kind of nervous disorder or devil knows what. It was always just my secret, and I never spoke about it with anyone, not anyone. But all along, I was creating a kind of literature in my head. And then all of a sudden I realized that this same thing existed printed on paper—that’s exactly what literature is. But I had to make it up all on my own"

"There are lots of thoughts without words. Even language doesn’t reach the deepest places we have inside us."

"And so I started writing, and suddenly there was this rearview mirror, and everything started coming back about my life in the village. I wasn’t trying to write literature, I just put it down on paper to gain a foothold, to get a grip on my life."

http://www.theparisreview.org/interviews/6328/the-art-of-fiction-no-225-herta-muller

The whole list of interviews is here (warning: this is a perfect rabbit-hole to disappear down when you have very pressing and important things to be done, don't say I didn't warn you)

http://www.theparisreview.org/interviews

winston robinson said...

Inspiring, as usual.

Winston

Anonymous said...

Where do you buy the gougères? Do tell.

Resident south of Uccle

zmkc said...

At first I thought you had bowls of plastic heads dotted around the bathroom. Is it any comfort to know that with the change of one consonant things might actually be worse - or more bizarre, at least?

Waffle said...

Anon south Uccle: PICARD. http://magasins.picard.fr/search?query=1180 PICARD PICARD PICARD.

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