June 2025 – Mick and Liesel's Antics

Sense of enormous wellbeing

The bus ride into Manchester is always a lovely, long, enjoyable ride. At an average speed not much faster than walking pace, you certainly get your money’s worth from the fare. Well, I do, with my Senior Bus Pass. What we need is an express service from Northenden that picks us up here, then doesn’t stop until we reach our destination.

It was the weekend of the Parklife music festival in Manchester and several attendees joined our bus, some of the girls wearing dresses that they’ve had since they were about 3 years old. So much flesh on display. But Parklife wasn’t our destination. Today was also the Universally Manchester festival, put together by the University of Manchester, a vibrant, free, one-day festival packed with fun, interactive activities for all ages.

Liesel and I had booked places on a walking tour of the campus and we met up with the group in the Old Quadrangle where, once upon a time, Jenny celebrated her graduation ceremonies by tossing mortarboards in the air. That seems a long time ago, now.

The guide was very informative, giving us the history of the now 201-year old university. In fact, the hour was more talking than walking. All interesting stuff but we’d been expecting a longer wander around more of the university’s sites.

We (re-)learned about such luminaries as Alan Turing, Ernest Rutherford, Marie Stopes, Bernard Lovell, all Manchester Alumni. And of course, my daughter, Dr Jenny. She’ll get a blue plaque too, one of these days, I’m sure.

In fact, Jenny and Liam took Martha into Manchester today, and Martha enjoyed taking part in some of the demonstrations and experiments. We all met up for lunch in the Museum Café.

In the Museum itself, we bumped into Maharajah, well, his skeleton.

This poor old thing was ‘encouraged’ to walk over 200 miles from Edinburgh to Manchester in 1872, accompanied by his keeper, Lorenzo Lawrence. They didn’t fancy going by train.

William was away with his Beavers pack today, and his parents arrived just in time to meet and greet him from the coach. Liesel, Leslie and I spent a few minutes in University Place, looking at some of the exhibits. It was very busy, good to see, but what a hubbub.

Continuing our University of Manchester experience this weekend, we visited Jodrell Bank, this time specifically to see A Stitch in Space Time. This is an exploration of the cosmic threads that connect the observatory in partnership with the Royal Astronomical Society. And, literally, threads. Two quilts were on display.

Royal Astronomical Society Bicentennial Quilt

This large patchwork quilt is made from a hundred individually created fabric squares, each depicting astronomical themes such as galaxies, planets, telescopes and stars.

Homage to astronomer Ellen Baker’s 1876 Solar System quilt

Ellen Baker made a quilt nearly 150 years ago and subsequently used it as a visual aid during her astronomy lectures. This modern copy is very similar in style.

While in the sewing room, we watched a video of astronaut Karen Nyberg attempting to sew in the weightlessness of the International Space Station. All the tools of the trade are held in place with velcro

Of course, we explored the more scientific aspects of the venue as well. The First Light Pavilion opened in 2022 and the current, immersive exhibition was great fun. And interesting. I found it more fascinating than Liesel and Leslie, so they wandered off to the café.

Selfie of the day with an Infrared camera

When I joined them a while later for coffee, they recommended the lemon drizzle cake and I’m glad they did, it was delicious.

We know the universe likes to stay in equilibrium, so after the excitement of an interesting, academic weekend, we had to be brought down to Earth. I was walking along in an orderly fashion when, wham, bam, I was assaulted by even more bindweed.

Nothing I could do except cry inside, and be thankful that this particular infestation is someone else’s problem.

We picked the children up from school and took them to Bruntwood Park where the snack was, again, an ice cream. Earlier in the day, Martha had been at the Bridgewater Hall with the Hallé Orchestra. I thought Martha might have played her ukulele, but no, she tooted on a trumpet instead, ending up with achy cheeks.

At home, Martha and William made stickmen out of pipe cleaners, before we were joined by Liam and Jenny for dinner.

The Ikea wardrobe that I put together a few weeks ago needed a slight repair, to re-secure it to the wall, so that was my job for the day. Followed by swapping a toilet seat. I know how to have a good time. I’m going through a spell of getting rid of stuff, some on Ebay, some on Freegle. Both are ridiculously hard work.

Probably not as hard work as paddling a canoe all the way from Heaton Mersey to Northenden. But that’s exactly what Martha did with a group of friends, and I’m sorry we didn’t wander down to the riverside to witness the event.

Here they are, screaming as they float down the newly repaired weir.

There was a larger group than usual for the regular Thursday walk, and we walked the full distance, despite temptation to take a shortcut in the extreme heat. It was the hottest day of the year so far, and phew, there were some comments about that.

And being a hot, bright, sunny day, I thought I’d take a picture of the Sun.

Another day, another walk and we growled at all the geese for pooping on the path around the pond in Painswick Park. And then in the next park, I thought, what a funny looking squirrel:

A fringe and a whinge

This wasn’t the most exciting week of the year, but it was certainly medical. Stop reading now if you’re a bit squeamish.

But first, Jenny, Liam, Martha and William returned from Disneyworld, tired but having had a great time. Martha’s review: “Amazing!” I’m sure going back to school was a bit of an anticlimax.

At Liesel’s bidding, I agreed to go for a haircut. As it’s a bit warmer now, I didn’t mind having (what’s left of) my hair cut really short.

Next day, I visited the dental hygienist who gave my gnashers a quick scrub.

Next day, I visited the hospital for a procedure that entailed being sedated. Liesel collected me afterwards, and we had a peaceful evening. I thought that remnants of the sedative would still be coursing through my veins and I’d get a good night’s sleep. Nope. I just lay there like a pile of old rags, brain refusing to switch off, looking at the clock every half hour, until I picked up my book again.

A couple of days later, I visited Didsbury for a massage, my first for a long time. The stretches felt really good: on a typical day, I must resemble a coiled up, tangled old Slinky.

So, the old carcass has had a good going over this week. In between times, we’ve been wandering around Northenden, sometimes visiting shops, sometimes looking at the flowers and trying to avoid noticing the litter.

For the first time in ages, I saw a heron by the river, actually on the island in the stream.

Meanwhile, some geese were sitting on the weir, not fishing as I first guessed, but plucking grass (or maybe seaweed) from the riverbed.

Because the universe has to be in balance, after all these postive sightings, I was disheartened to see my erstwhile nemesis still attampting to take over the world.

And I chose this of all days to forget to take out my flame-thrower.

I had my hair cut earlier in the week so of course I had to have a word with this horse, whose fringe was obstructing his view.

As I was wandering with the usual group one day, I caught myself singing a song to myself: Rambling Rose, as recorded by the ever laid-back Perry Como. Where the heck did that come from, I wondered? What a strange brain I have. But then I realised. Someone’s overgrown garden.

Liesel took her Mom for a walk one day. We’ve had complaints about ‘forced marches’ before, but on this occasion, Mom whinged about Liesel trying to kill her. Well, it’s sunny, a good day to die, said Liesel.

Didsbury is close to Fletcher Moss Botanical Gardens, and I had reason to visit the local library there. In Didsbury, I mean, not the Gardens. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed this library within a library before. Great fun and very cute.

And if I had to recommend a coffee shop in Didsbury, I think it would be this one, despite the reviews posted outside. It’s name? FFS. Honest.

My major achievement this week apart from surviving several assaults on various parts of my anatomy, was to sell an item on eBay, or Ebay as autocorrect would have it. I haven’t sold anything there since well before we moved up north, and by heck what a mess that site it is. As Jim Royle would say: User friendly, my arse. Far too much clutter on the screen. Just another 299 items to go, then.

Parks and Wreck

Mayfield Park is the first new park to open in Manchester City Centre in over a hundred years. It’s been there waiting for us to go along for over two years, and now, at last, we’ve paid a visit.

The River Medlock was happy to see daylight after being covered up for fifty years. We expected to walk around a large expanse, 6.5 acres, but in the end, we agreed, the park was much smaller than expected.

The flower beds attract many bees, and once again, I asked Liesel whether she’d brought her Epipen. Just in case.

Manchester has always been a home to radicals throughout its history. From alchemists to non-conformists to communists to suffragettes to ravers, all have made a home here.

Thomas Hoyle, who set up the The Printworks in Mayfield and his son-in-law Neild used their wealth to establish Mayfield House, a social enterprise for all including a free reading room. Hoyle’s peers also went on to establish Manchester University and the Manchester Guardian newspaper.

The playground looks fun and yes, one day, we might take the grandchildren there.

After a quick coffee, we walked back towards the city centre, and in particular, to Sackville Gardens. Over the road, we saw a wedding party, but even I felt it would be inappropriate to take photos through the bushes. The flowers here were very colourful.

The Beacon of Hope was created in 1997 as Manchester’s answer to the threat of HIV. Designed by Warren Chapman and Jess Byrne-Daniels, it consists of elements combining the existing ‘Tree of Life’ planted on World AIDS Day in 1993, with the ‘Beacon of Hope’ light sculpture erected in 2000. Together, both elements describe a metaphorical journey through life, providing the opportunity for contemplation, celebration, remembrance of the lives lost to HIV and solidarity with those living with HIV today. This is the UK’s only permanent memorial for people living with HIV or AIDS and lives lost to it.

The history of HIV/AIDS is described in a series of plaques in this corner of the park, and it’s horrible to be reminded of our government’s inept early response to the so-called ‘gay plague’.

In Sackville Gardens, I shouldn’t have been surprised to find another member of the Bee in the City Trail: this one is the LGBee.

Today’s city walk then took us to Bridgewater Hall where we hoped to pick up a programmes of future events. The venue was closed. So we enjoyed early dinner in the nearby community of food outlets known as Society.

Our next ‘meal’ out, a couple of days later, was taken at Quarry Bank Mill where we enjoyed a much shorter stroll than usual.

The first of two medical events for me this week entailed a very early morning drive to Trafford General for an 8am appointment. And, despite temptation, I did not go back to bed when I returned home.

The second involved a trip into Manchester. We passed some time at the Whitworth Art Gallery, again viewing the Turner exhibition. I then just had to walk over the road to St Mary’s Hospital. I wonder if there’s a prize for attending four or more different hospitals in such a short span of time?

Dunham Massey’s Rose Garden is at its best this time of year, very colourful and aromatic.

I think we were all surprised and delighted to see herons on the far side of the lake. There are always ducks and geese, but I don’t think we’ve seen herons here before. And yes, more than one at a time. Here is a pair, but we spotted five altogether.

Again, I really should dig out my real camera for shots like this. On the other hand, the phone camera is good enough to capture the building works taking place.

A few months ago, early January I’m guessing, occupants from one of our neighbouring apartments disposed of their Christmas tree by dumping it on what passes for the lawn in our communal car park. It’s been an eyesore, certainly compared with the glorious oak tree, but it was time to do something about it. For a couple of weeks now, there have been a couple of surplus wheelie bins out on the pavement. No idea where they belong. Well, I dragged the old Christmas tree out and shoved it into the gaping maw of the green food waste and garden waste bin, as far as it would go.

I’m grateful to Liesel for taking its picture as she drove past later in the day. Otherwise, the moment would have been lost to eternity. And we are very grateful to the bin men for taking away the offending item.

Meanwhile, the grandchildren and their parents are having a brilliant, exciting, fun-filled time at Disneyworld, Orlando.

Meanwhile, further west, my sister Pauline is visiting Las Vegas from New Zealand. Not a random urge to hit the casinos, but to be with her son, my nephew, Rob’s wedding to Cristy, a small civil ceremony. Love and congratulations to you all!

Thanks to Pauline for the photo!

So, life goes on, as the song says, and sometimes it’s as exciting as going for a walk around the parks and woods of Wythenshawe. And, how good am I? I’ve got this far without mentioning this week’s torrential rain.

Forever Changes

It was a bright and sunny morning so I set off, on foot, towards Didsbury. The route that we dubbed ‘Dogshit Alley’ is a lot more overgrown than the last time I saw it. I must remember to take along some secateurs next time. I’ve said that before, I know. But I did buy some cheap ones to cut back whatever bush it is that grows above where we park our car and deposits tonnes of sticky sap all over our erstwhile pristine vehicle. They were cheap, not all that strong and I should buy a decent pair at a garden shop one day. A sticky car was not something I’d expected to come home to. But it was well worth a tenner to have it washed.

Where were we? Walking along what is now basically a tunnel on the way to the river.

The Riverside Residential Park now seems to consist of proper buildings rather than the caravans all up on stilts.

Recent floods have washed away part of the path and there are still barriers up preventing our passage. Well, with a bit of clambering, it’s quite easy to get by.

I made it to Fletcher Moss where I couldn’t help but notice a very big bee on a tree.

The reason I visited Fletcher Moss park, gardens, whatever, today, was to see the Didsbury Pop-up Cultural Market. I found it in the Parsonage Gardens. There were two stalls with artists displaying their paintings. Is that it, I wondered? Well, there were more arts and crafts on show indoors, in the actual parsonage, I guess. Lots of stuff, some well done, some should have stayed in a bottom drawer somewhere, but just stuff, really, and we don’t need any more stuff.

I tried to get a coffee from the machine but it refused to believe my phone was the source of my spending money, so even the coffee machine lost a customer that day!

I wandered through Didsbry village, nothing new there.

I hadn’t visited Marple Locks before but it was a good venue for a walk with Jenny, Liam and the children.

A narrowboat approached the lock and Martha and William were both keen to help open the gates.

We walked along the Peak Forest Canal for a while and in the end, completed a large loop. Glad I brought some water, but a bit disappointed there was no coffee shop halfway round.

It could have been a bit scary walking along the tallest masonry arch aqueduct in the UK, designed by Benjamin Outram and built between 1794 and 1800.

Marple Aqueduct is one hundred feet above the river Goyt, and we walked down the bank so that we could follow the river for a while. Martha spotted a frog trying to climb out of the water but as she leaned over to help, it panicked, dived and we haven’t seen it since.

William spotted some cows in a field that turned into horses as we approached more closely. So, for the rest of the day, cows and horses were always mis-identified.

We were above the Etherow, a tributary of the Goyt, part of which once formed the boundary between Cheshire and Derbyshire.

With two young, energetic and loud children with us, we were unlikely to see any interesting wildlife. Well, apart from horses that thought they were cows and cows that identified as horses. So here’s a nice family portrait instead.

This bridge has been restored fairly recently, to mark its 200th anniversary.

After finding our way back to Memorial Park, Marple, we had some fun in the playground. William also found a tree to climb. No health and safety considerations, no risk assessment, I blinked and there he was, twelve feet up in the branches.

Nearby in the park, we found some gym equipment. I had a go on some of it, but, er, let’s say I just hadn’t warmed up properly. I spent a couple of minutes on the stationary bike, burning a whole 7 calories, ‘riding’ 0.3 miles. That’ll do.

Not saying the children misbehaved at all, but, well, this is the sort of punishment they could appreciate.

Meanwhile, Liesel was having a good time in sunny Hope, Alaska.

On returning to Anchorage, Liesel packed, and she and her Mom caught the plane to Seattle, where they ate at the vegetarian place, Floret, before the long flight to Reykjavik and then the final leg to Manchester. This is where I met them. And what better way to celebrate their return to England than by going out for a meal at Zumuku with the family.

Both Martha and William had a jolly good shot at eating everything from the restaurant’s stock room. They’d need the energy for the next week or so in Disneyworld.

Sadly, and annoyingly, the Manchester sunshine was replaced by rain to coincide with Liesel’s return. So we had some soggy walks around Northenden.

As I was walking along, I heard the sound of horses behind me. As the empty hearse passed by, I was very tempted to tell the driver that the corpse had fallen out the back. But I resisted the urge.

The regular Thursday walk was well attended this week, but on Friday, there were just the three of us.

Liesel and Leslie are now, slowly, getting over their flight induced sleep deprivation and jet lag.

And in Florida, the grandchildren are having a Mouse of a time.