There has been a lot of sitting about this week. As usual. We tend to sit when we’re doing our things. And when we’re not doing anything.
Mick: I’m going to write this week’s blog.
Liesel: But nothing happened this week.
Mick: Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something.
Mick in his head: And if not, I’ll make something up.
So here we all are, living in a rainbow.
It would be rude to put up a picture of someone else’s Christmas lights (that doesn’t usually stop you) but it’s nice to see them going up, as we approach the end of November.
The cold, dark evenings don’t stop the vandals from venturing out, unfortunately.
Usually, we don’t use this picnic table beside the river because (a) someone else is sitting there (b) we didn’t bring a picnic or (c) most often, it’s just wet from all the rain.
It’s a bit late in the month, but here is our local war memorial in Northenden. We just haven’t been for a walk in this direction for quite a while.
We try to look up, not down, but some sights are just too horrible to ignore. Some people.
Things really are desperate when I resort to posting photos of what’s left of a chicken.
I was going to collect them and make a feather boa for somebody’s Christmas, but Liesel said No.
If you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise. Well, I went down to the woods and I was surprised. One of the trees in Kenworthy Woods has been turned into a Christmas tree by three delightful cousins, Isabelle, Isaac and Jacob.
We’re all invited to go along and add our own baubles and tinsel. At the time of writing, there is a more conventional Christmas tree outside our local Tesco, but it hasn’t yet been decorated.
We went for a walk later than usual one day. Fearing that it might be dark by the time we got back home, I think we both walked a little faster than we intended. A jolly good work-out. And our reward was seeing some colour in the sky. Not quite the Northern Lights, but we’ll take anything colourful right now.
A little bit of pink and a little bit of orange.
One day we walked by the pub. There was a queue outside, and a group of people over the road with their pints, sharing space with the wheelie bins.
Everyone in Northenden will probably tell me this sign has been here for years, but I’ve only just noticed it.
At least with a 20 mph speed limit in the residential areas, some drivers might slow down to 40 or so, so that’s good.
We succumbed to temptation and purchased a Treat Box from The Northern Den: a chocolate orange cookie, a white chocolate and raspberry cookie, a jammie dodger cupcake, a Kinder Bueno cupcake, a biscoff brownie and an Oreo brownie. You want a photo? They didn’t last long enough! This cake wasn’t part of the deal, but it looks delicious.
No I didn’t try a fingerful of icing, but it was close.
We were sitting at home doing nothing much when our ears perked up at the sound of clip-clopping. That sounds like horses, we said to each other. It was a funeral passing by, which is sad, but conversely, the most interesting thing that’s happened in our neighbourhood this week.
The theme for the radio show this week was Happiness (please listen here), so I had to include songs of that name by Ken Dodd and Tom Hingley, and you don’t often see those two in the same room.
This is a picture of me with the equipment for my Radio Northenden show, microphone and headphones.
Next week’s show is about Connection. Please send me your song suggestions and I’ll see what I can fit into the two hours. And don’t forget to tune in to Radio Northenden at two o’clock on Friday afternoon, it’ll be lovely to see your name up on the screen! (I don’t normally say what’s coming up next week because I haven’t decided a whole week in advance, but next week’s show should be special.)
Hmm, as we thought, not much occurred this week, so here’s something I made up. Well, my subconscious made it up to keep me entertained while I was sleeping.
Me and my old school friend Oscar flew to Sydney for the weekend. We then drove north to Hayman Island, Queensland. I knew we had to book in on the mainland before taking a boat to the island itself. We found the resort shop which was full of disappointingly cheap and nasty tourist tat. We booked our tickets and accommodation and then ate in the greasy spoon canteen. I had a good look round, but then I couldn’t find Oscar. He’d gone missing. I kept looking for him, I asked the receptionist where the nearest hotel was, Oscar might have gone for a kip. Oh no, there are no hotels here, she snootily replied. Then she remembered. Oh, there is a backpackers one just over there, pointing across the road, behind a fence. Well, it was nearby, but it was a long walk. I asked at their reception desk whether Oscar had booked in, the guy said he didn’t know. Then I remembered I could try and call or message him, but my phone was nearly dead, and in any case, the Internet was very slow. A pretty girl said, ‘There are problems with all the phones around here, I feel sorry for the girls.’ Girls? ‘Hookers.’ Oh well, my friend Oscar’s out here somewhere if you want try and find him. ‘Oh, I’m not a prostitute,’ she told me in no uncertain terms. I thought, well you’re pretty enough.
- In real life, I haven’t seen Oscar since he left for San Diego in about 1984.
- Flying to Sydney for the weekend is not really a viable option.
- Driving from Sydney to Hayman Island is not a quick trip. It’s probably a 24-hour drive.
- Hayman Island is a beautiful resort in the Whitsundays. Hello, Adam! Have a look. Dream. One day…
- I don’t know if there is a shop and/or a greasy spoon restaurant on the mainland attached to the resort, in real life.
- Also, in real life, we’d book everything in advance.
- I’m not really a sexist pig who thinks every pretty girl could or should be on the game.
This is why I rarely tell people my dreams: they need so many explanatory notes and don’t make sense to anyone, not even me, sometimes. Yes, I would love to be able to meet up with old friends. Yes, I would love to be able to go somewhere warm and sunny. But at least my dreams are still Covid-free.