Weather or not

In the quaint and charming society of Britain, where genteel manners and civility reign supreme, conversations about the weather dance gracefully amidst the exchanges of social niceties. As the Sun rises and sets in its majestic cycles, so does the topic of weather occupy the parlours and drawing rooms of esteemed households and luxury apartments.

With great propriety, British people find solace in discussing the ever-changing skies, for it is a topic both universal and safe, bridging the gaps of acquaintance and forging connections anew. And British people like a good whinge too. Especially when precipitation persists perpetually day after day. The subtle nuances of cloud formations and the gentle caress of a Summer breeze invite observations and reflections, inspiring lively discourse and fostering a sense of community amongst diverse acquaintances, whether out walking in the rain or skulking inside gazing at the latest boxset.

As ladies and gentlemen, or Liesel, I and several strangers, gather for afternoon tea or an evening soiree, the weather is the ballet of our conversations. “What a terrible day we have today,” one might exclaim, to which another replies, “Indeed, the Sun hides behind the clouds like a frightened child.” Like the waltz of an elegant ballroom, these exchanges follow an unspoken rhythm, harmonizing the social symphony.

Yet, behind these seemingly mundane discussions lies a shared understanding — a tacit acknowledgment of the weather’s influence on daily lives. Rain or shine, it governs outings and pastimes, and its unpredictable temperament becomes the muse for plans and diversions.

And so it proved to be as Liesel and I did attend afternoon tea at our local church, St Wilfrid’s, all part of a borough wide campaign to help feed the local community. We chatted with the curate, Andrew for a while, as well as some of the other tea drinkers and scone scoffers.

On the walk home, we took a diversion to visit the new, vegan coffee shop by the Riverside playground. After all this time, the long closed public toilets have a new lease of life.

After all the rain (sorry, more weather), the water pressure in the fast flowing waters of the Mersey had pushed over some of the bushes on the part-time island.

Wythenshawe Hall was damaged by fire a few years before we moved to Northenden, and after being repaired and refurbished, it has been opening to the public once a month. And for the first time this month, we had no other plans, and we remembered to go.

We met our walking buddies Dot and Chris on the way to Wythenshawe Park. Our deliberations on the parlous state of our weather recently were only interrupted by the need to have a moan about how difficult it is to get to the park, when it comes to dealing with major crossroads where the traffic lights really are not in the pedestrians’s favour.

The volunteers at Wythenshawe Hall were dressed in costume, and when asked, they related stories of the Tatton family who lived there.

We wandered over to the coffee shop where Chris ordered a slice of Victoria sponge. It was a huge slice. Liesel helped her finish it off.

Back at home, Liesel asked what the puddle on the floor was? No idea. Eventually, we found a leak from the pipe taking mains water to the cistern. Another nightmarish plumbing issue. We turned the water off, called a plumber and the leak was fixed the following day.

We picked Martha and William up from their home and we drove to Catalyst near Widnes, a science experience centre and museum that we’d taken them to years ago.

Before going inside though, we had a lot of fun in the playground.

The children enjoyed all the hands-on equipment inside, as well as iron filings and magnets, bubbles in a big tube of viscous fluid, small hankies travelling along vacuum tubes. William enjoyed using the elevator, refusing to call it a ‘lift’. And their short stop-action movies were very impressive.

In fact, we took the lift up to the top floor from where you see it raining in every direction.

Of course, the Mersey is much wider here than it is in Northenden, and from this distance, we couldn’t see any discarded tyres or fridges or couches.

We’d also booked a workshop where they learned about bees, the different species, the stings, and about making honey.

They both had a go at weather forecasting, but their predictions were no better than the real thing.

It was fascinating watching them both satisfying their curiosity, trying things out and, especially in William’s case, getting more and more tired through the day.

The rest of the week, we walked here and there, hardly mentioned the weather at all, he lied. What we didn’t expect to see in Wythenshawe was new trams that have been introduced as part of the new Bee Network, integrated public transport for Manchester.

The radio show this week was a wander through an Enchanted Forest: songs about Trees. If you missed the show on Wythenshawe Radio, you can catch up here.