Books, Bats and Bikes

As part of my regular wanders around Northenden, I sometimes check up on the little library in Riverside Park. I really didn’t think it would work this well, but it is great to see it being used. It’s full of books, adults’ and children’s.

I keep meaning to fix the door locking mechanism, but I need to remember to carry tools with me, a sonic screwdriver or something.

Speaking of which: I have reached the episode of Doctor Who that brought me nearly to tears when I was a young 14-year old. The one in which companion Zoe Heriot left the series, and was returned to a point just before she set off on her travels with the Doctor. The Time Lords erased her memory of these adventures, and I found that incredibly sad.

I’d forgotten that this episode was also the last one with the second Doctor, played by Patrick Troughton who was replaced by Jon Pertwee. It was also the last one in black and white. The third Doctor’s stories were shown in colour, but of course, I didn’t know that, it was a couple of years before we had a colour TV at home!

I don’t spend all my time watching classic Doctor Who, honest. I’ve also been catching up on Planet Earth 3, something that Liesel doesn’t really get on with, especially when the animals catch and eat each other, although there’s not a lot of that.

There was time for my own adventures too. When I give blood, every few months in Manchester, I go by bus. I’d rather not drive because, if I were to feel faint after the session (although this has never happened) I would be unable to drive home.

So I went out and stood by the bus stop. I was surprised and delighted to see a new litter bin there. There’s always been one on the other side of the road, but not by this particular bus stop.

Sod’s law dictates that whichever bus I’m waiting for, one travelling in the opposite, wrong direction will appear first. And so it was today. I thought it was strange that the sign on that bus said it was was going to Manchester Piccadilly. Weird, I thought. But as it pulled away from the bus stop, I suddenly realised: I was waiting on the wrong side of the road. I should have caught that bus. What a prat.

Now, of course, I’m concerned that I’m going to be late for my appointment. But I wasn’t. I gave my name at precisely 2 o’clock. Not on the list. They only take platelets on a Monday, not full blood. Monday? I thought it was Tuesday. So, rather than being late, I was a day early. What a plonker.

As I said to someone, I’m glad I wasn’t trying to donate my brain, nobody would want that particular organ today, it really wasn’t firing on all cylinders.

Twenty-four hours later, I successfully donated, enjoyed a small packet of Bourbons and a small packet of digestives and was about to grab some custard creams when the nurse took the trolley away.

Still, it was good to see the first signs of Spring on the local village green: crocuses and snowdrops here, and a couple of daffodils elsewhere.

I was sad to learn of the death of Christopher Priest. He was one of my favourite science fiction writers in the 1970s and ’80s. I met him once, when he came to our Science Fiction Society meeting when I was at Queen Elizabeth College, so nearly 50 years ago. He was a top bloke, very generous with his time. I still treasure the email he sent me after I got in touch wih him after he wrote an obituary for Harry Harrison. Who, by coincidence, was another guest speaker at our SFSoc all those years ago.

Reading Chris’s obits, I discovered that he was born in Cheadle and attended Cheadle Hulme School, a mere stone’s throw from where Jenny and the family now live.

Wythenshawe Star Gazers provide opportunities to use other people’s equipment to view the night sky. I went along this week, despite the 99% cloud cover, and we were able to just about see Jupiter through a telescope, not in any detail though thanks to the more local clouds.

Plan B is to have a talk indoors, and Kyle spoke to us about the planets. Dave was there with some great photos that he’d taken, despite living so close to the airport with its bright lights.

Let me blow my own trumpet and say that the leek and potato soup I had this week was the best I’ve made in a very long time. So glad it lasted two days.

Jenny and Liam went out for a meal with friends Matt and Amy, and I was delighted to be asked to look after Martha and William. We played a couple of games, Uno and Furious but best of all, we watched a few episodes of Bluey on TV. Don’t tell Mummy and Daddy, but they stayed up a little bit later than they were meant to, shhh!

I don’t want to know what Martha was doing to this poor old teddy.

It was, as always, fun to watch the children swimming too. Martha had been kick boxing earlier while William was playing football. I can only imagine the complexities of the speadsheet that helps their parents coordinate all the children’s activities. I joined the family for lunch after which, we spent some time in a park in Gatley.

For the first time in many years, I played tennis. Five minutes of that exercise was enough for this short-of-breath old fart. William and Martha had cycled to the park, and they proceeded to ride around the skateboard park too.

What else did they bring apart from bikes and tennis racquets? Well, the remote controlled car and cricket bats, of course. In the end, we didn’t play cricket. but it was a full-on afternoon. Thankfully, the car stayed in one piece despite William’s efforts on the skateboard park. And, it was a surprisingly warm afternoon, hence Martha’s decision to remove her coat.

The car survived, OK, but the radio show this week was about Breaking Things, breaking up, breaking down, breaking out. You can pass or waste two hours by listening here.