One of the things we like about living where we do is the oak tree outside. It sheds dead wood now and then, but so far, the falling logs haven’t bonked anyone on the bonce. Nor did that large branch land on the car parked in the wrong place in the communal car park. We enjoy watching the magpies at play and sometimes fighting, or is that foreplay? And the squirrels: I think there are at least two, one of whom sits sedately when we walk by, while the other one scampers up the tree as soon as we appear. We don’t see many acorns, maybe the squirrels grab them and hide them first. But this week, our tree sprouted something very unusual.
It was meant to be a night out for Liam’s birthday, but sadly, he and Jenny weren’t feeling on top of the world. So Liesel and I used the tickets. We enjoyed an evening of The Best of British Pop Music, played by the Hallé Orchestra, at Bridgewater Hall in Manchester. Pop songs from the last 70 years. We enjoyed it although I personally wouldn’t label some of the chosen songs ‘The Best of British’.
The MC was a certain Ken Bruce, who broadcast on BBC Radio 2 for over thirty years, before recently jumping ship to Greatest Hits Radio. It was good to see him, and he was quite funny.
The vocalists were Laura Tebbutt (who I’ve heard of) and Jon Boydon (not sure) and they did a good job of interpreting the songs. The orchestra was conducted by David Arnold, composer of many James Bond tunes, musical director for the 2012 London Olympics and Paralympics, not to mention being on Björk’s first album, Debut, and all-round good egg.
Yes, I feel bad that Liam and Jenny missed the show, but we’re glad the tickets didn’t go to waste!
More live music was seen the following afternoon at Boxx2Boxx. The big surprise though, in passing, was seeing the local Tesco Express all shuttered up.
Later in the week, there was hoarding all around the site, so I think some refurbishment must be taking place, although I’m surprised we didn’t see any publicity in advance.
Anyway, back to Boxx2Boxx, where Zha Olu played for two hours, with a break at halftime, and despite the intermittent rain.
She performed a wide variety of songs, including one by Oasis, two by the Bee Gees; Fleetwood Mac, Britney Spears, Cher, Katy Perry, Amy Winehouse, Killers were all represented.
Quite a few of us were sitting outside, and the rain didn’t deter us. Those two, like me, didn’t have coats. But someone walked down the road and acquired ponchos at the Pound Shop. I assume the hats came from there too. It was a great atmosphere, and I hope there’ll be more music here sometime, and I hope we get to see Zha Olu again at some point. Look her up on YouTube!
This picture was put up on Instagram later: see if you can spot Mick.
We haven’t had visitors for a while, so it was nice to collect Helen and Steve from Gatley Station, so much easier than from Manchester Piccadilly. They’d been in the Lake District for a bit and even as far afield as The Isle of Man.
We ate dinner at The Metropolitan in Didsbury, a nice veggie burger in my case, since you ask. But have some sympathy for Helen and Steve who both wanted fish and chips: alas, the restaurant had sold out!
Why did I take this picture of an old advert hanging in the toilet? Because the model closely resembles my Dad at a young age, and he did indeed use Brylcreem.
Then off to Parrs Wood Cineworld where we watched the newly released Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny. It was great fun, and I was pleasantly surprised to hear a Beatles and a David Bowie song in the soundtrack.
Despite the threat of wet weather, we visited Quarry Bank Mill for a bit of a walk, and a wander around the Mill itself.
The dahlias looked good in the rain, and what a coincidence: I just started reading a PG Wodehouse book in which Bertie Wooster’s Aunt Dahlia looms large.
Our visit to the Mill itself took up so much time, that our planned tour of the Apprentices’ House never happened. We’ll get there one day.
We drove Helen and Steve to Leigh where they spent one night and visited a friend before taking the train home.
Liesel attended the WI Craft meeting, with her decorated fairy door, which, I have to say, was much better than all the others on display. I’m sure the fairies prefer it too.
When we walked Hadrian’s Wall in May, Liesel grew a huge blister on her little toe. Fortunately, this was on the final day of the hike. Fast forward to this week. Her toenail fell off. There’s no other way to break the slightly gruesome news. The toe with the big blister shed its nail. Liesel put in under her pillow, but sadly, there’s no such thing as a toenail fairy.
The regular Wednesday walk didn’t take place this week: instead, I returned to the optician to repeat one of the tests. I did better this time. I hope I don’t have to bother the optician for another year.
In the afternoon, we collected Martha and William from school, and brought them home, where they decorated their own fairy doors.
After dinner, we took a pair of tired children home, and against all odds, they didn’t fall asleep in the car.
The Thursday walk was also cancelled, but we both joined Michael on a slightly truncated walk around Wythenshawe, finishing in good time for Liesel to make her physio appointment. In the end, she was so early, that she had time for a bit of a walk in Gatley Carrs. Meanwhile Michael and I enjoyed a coffee in the usual place.
Friday, I returned to Manchester University to help with someone’s MRes research, well, I hope I helped.
When I got home, the predicted rain had stopped, so we went for a walk. One thing we didn’t expect to see was someone camping on Northenden Village Green.
We walked along the river and through the woods, all the way to Wythenshawe Park. I wondered whether any of the coins that I secreted a couple of weeks ago were still available. I remembered some of my hiding places, and I’m pleased that many of the coins had been been discovered. I hope people were sufficiently curious to look up online to see what The Find was all about.
On Wythenshawe Radio, my show’s theme was Memories, songs about memories and forgetting. You can catch it here: don’t forget.
A couple of weeks ago, we went out somewhere and noticed that the car stunk of garlic. Where’s it coming from? Maybe a dropped bite from a service station sandwich? We looked all around the vehicle, but couldn’t work out where the smell was coming from.
In the boot of the car, we have a big black bag, a carry-all bag, with lots of bits and pieces in it, shopping bags now known as ‘bags for life’, our litter pickers and pink council-approved plastic bags for picked litter, plus some other paraphernalia. No, nothing in there was responsible for the odour.
Before our visitors, Helen and Steve, arrived, I took the car in to be washed and valeted inside. I thought whatever the source of the aroma would be hoovered up. The car was nice and clean. And before picking our visitors up from the station, to make room for their luggage, we put the carry-all in the cupboard under the stairs in our block. Nobody goes in there, except the electric meter reader once every six months.
After Helen and Steve had left us, and a couple of days after hosting the grandchildren at home, we thought it was time to retrieve the bag. When I opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs, I was engulfed in a miasma of stench. Garlic. Aha! So, whatever the source of the malodour, we’d pretty much proved it must be in the black bag after all. And, indeed, we realised that we’d not complained about a smelly car at all this week.
We went through the contents of the bag, slowly, methodically, meticulously, one item at a time. And guess what we found in an old, padded but torn, cool bag? A clove of garlic. Why? How did it get there? Our theory is that it’s been there since we took some ingredients with us on our trip to Wales in May. May! It’s been festering in a cool bag, in a black bag, in the boot of the car, in the heat, for over two months! Phew, what a stench. The bag in question has been not so ceremoniously dumped.
My original note was mistyped:
Just one Clive og garlic
Mick and Liesel's Antics 