mickandlieselsantics

Music and Mash

Manchester Jazz Festival is an annual event that, for one reason and another, we’ve totally managed to avoid since we moved up north. But this year, we made the effort and travelled into the city, by tram.

We caught the tail-end of the performance by art-pop collective Dilettante while eating lunch, or late second breakfast in my case, which was disappointing. The good news is that today was the first time I felt confident enough about the weather to wear sandals.

The next band was Caraway, from Bristol, not to be confused with bands with the same name from Toronto, Los Angeles and even Manchester a few years ago. They were very enjoyable, and it was good to see someone playing a flugelhorn.

Another cup of iced coffee kept me going, and we kept our perfect seats before the arrival of the singer who was the main reason we came this afternoon: Satnam Galsian. She gave the premier perfomance of her new piece, Love or Sacrifice which explores themes of gender roles and the expectations of women in South Asian culture. Her songs are deeply rooted in her personal experiences. And her performance was very moving.

There was a Q&A afterwards and I was glad someone else asked about why she was sitting down on the floor while singing. I know I would have had cramp or pins and needles after a short while. But it’s a cultural thing, from north India.

Later on, looking at photographs of the event that other people had posted online, we were delighted to see that Liesel and I appeared in some of them. Another small contribution to our 15 minutes of fame.

Keiran tried mashed potato for the first time and he quite enjoyed it despite not quite knowing the difference been moisturiser and food.

But don’t worry, it wasn’t too long before he was able to rinse it off in the pool, with Dada.

We could have done with a swimming pool near us, to be honest, as we revelled in the hottest days of the year so far: in fact, the hottest May days since records began! And I don’t mean Tina Turner records.

What’s Love Got To Do With It? is the name given to a Tina Turner tribute show. Yes, of course, we would love to have seen Tina herself in concert but that’s not be. In this show, we heard all the hits and a couple of songs that were new to me. Leslie soaked up the music too. Holly Bannis did a great performance, with Tina’s big hair, Tina’s costumes and Tina’s singing style. The audience sang and clapped along, even when not explicitly invited to do so.

One guy a couple of rows in front of us was extremely exuberant in his dance moves, he really wanted to get noticed by the dancers. And he succeeded. He was invited to go to the front in and join in with a song and dance. After which, his moves weren’t quite as flamboyant.

I was surprised and a little disappointed that during the interval here at The Lowry, they played adverts! Never experienced that at a theatre before. OK, it was a trail for another performance here, but I really hope that’s not the thin edge of the wedge.

Liesel and her Mom went out for a quick walk early in the morning, and before they returned, I caught the bus to join the Thursday walk in Wythenshawe. Liesel hadn’t locked the door, they wouldn’t be that long, but I did lock the door. Then I got a message from Liesel saying she didn’t have her keys. They’d bought some shopping and were locked out of the flat!

So once I stopped laughing, I returned home from Wythenshawe Forum as quickly as possible, just missing one bus and annoyed that the next one never appeared, despite what the display said.

We rarely go out two nights in a row but that’s what happened this week! Last night, a fake Tina and tonight, a visit to Stoller Hall to see a Scottish band, Skipinnish. Again, Leslie dug the sounds, man. Rob Green from Nottingham was supporting and he was pretty good too. I had a quick word with him and he recorded a little jingle for my radio show.

Skipinnish were formed in 1999, so they’ve been going a while, yet somehow their music hasn’t made its way to our ears until now. But they put on a very good show, especially with their singer, Rachel Walker. The jigs and reels were great and at one point, Liesel said that she was surprised at how loud the bagpipes were.

We like Stoller Hall as a venue, becuse the acoustics are good, and there is seating, but it is also just over the road from Manchester Victoria Station, so we were able to travel in by tram. And a good night’s sleep was had by all.

London bye ta ta

And so, our adventures in London come to a close. Time to go back to reality. Back to Northenden. Packing up didn’t take too long, and after refuelling the vehicle, we set Google maps to take us home. Our accommodation was just off the A406, the North Circular Road and the last thing we wanted to do was negotiate the Hanger Lane Gyratory system, arguably the worst, most confusing roundabout in the known universe, voted the scariest roundabout in 2007. But Liesel just ploughed on, and we managed to turn off it at the right time.

The next surprise on this trip was that we were taken up the M1 before joining the M6. There were so many lorries, and all I wanted to do was take out a Sharpie and change every incidence of the word Haulage on the side of a lorry to Sausage. But would Liesel stop for me?

Vernon Kay on Radio 2 kept us entertained. But I thought the ‘Ten to the Top’ quiz questions were much easier than usual. Even the contestants on air both attained unusually high scores.

We stopped at a service station briefly and none of us could believe how much colder it was here than it had been in Ealing.

Nothing to report at home. Just 250 emails to process. And two physical letters.

We had the pleasure of collecting Martha and William from school and we drove over to Bramhall, specifically to Simply Books. I had a book token to spend (thank you Pauline and Andrew for my birthday present) and we said we’d buy books for the children too. So we all left the shop with some exciting new reading material.

On the way to Jenny’s, we stopped off at Papa John’s to order and collect our pizzas. Ordering online proved to be too hard with the 4G signal available in the area. After consuming the bulk of the pizzas, we went over to watch Martha playing cricket, as we said we would. She is very proud of her own, real, wooden, cricket bat. But I’m glad to see they’re still playing with tennis balls.

Martha also made a good catch and later confirmed that her favourite position is batting or fielding, she’s not so keen on bowling. It’ll be interesting to see how she gets on when they start playing with a real, leather cricket ball. I was a bit of a wimp at school, I must admit, I was quite happy staying in the pavilion at school, keeping score, well away from that very hard missile.

It’s that time of year again. I had to get up early to take the car in for its MOT. While there, I went over the road to The Mess for breakfast and a coffee. Rain was forecast and I was busy at home so I missed the organised walk in Northenden. Liesel did make the effort to attend her exercise class though.

In exciting news, we received a ‘badge’ from WordPress, the hosts of mickandlieselsantics.com. We are a Globe Trotter now, because people from over fifty countries have viewed the blog. No trophy to put on the shelf. No vouchers for a spa day. Not even a real badge to pin on our t-shirts.

Your task is to identify this superhero:

Of course, it’s our Keiran, bringing villains to justice.

In local news, our car passed its MOT: we didn’t expect there to be any problem, but it’s always a relief.

In overseas news, we offer our love and congratulations to our nephew, (my sister’s boy,) Rob, who wed Cristy in Torreón, Mexico. Pauline was there along with Rob’s Dad, Tony, and Cristy’s much bigger family!

Thanks to the professional photographer Brenda Rodríguez for the fantastic photos! And thank you to Pauline too for your wonderful pictures.

Cristy’s family: Brother Roberto, Dad Roberto, Cristy, Rob, Mum Liz, Sister Lyn, Brother Ricardo

There was a mariachi band at the party afterwards at Cristy’s parents’ house and I can imagine my sister and everyone else tripping the light fantastic all night!

There is a river in Torreón which is dry most of the time thanks to a dam upstream. Let’s hope there’s never a reason to dam the Mersey: although if that river ever were to dry out, there’d be plenty of car tyres, bikes, fridges, sofas, supermarket trolleys and other débris to sell at a car boot sale. But on our walk to Didsbury, we just enjoyed the serenity provided by our slow-moving river, only slightly ruined by the background noise from the motorway.

On the way to our massage in Didsbury, we saw a solitary heron on the river. On the way back, we were pleased to spend time watching a family of ducks.

Oh, and our massages were great, thank you very much and I feel bad that we don’t know the names of our massagistes, masseuses, rubbers, therapists, whatever: see, I don’t even know what their job title is.

Lyme Regis is a bit too far away despite what my mouth said, so we visited Lyme Park instead. What a colourful place, you’d be forgiven for thinking that rhododendrons are taking the place over. Today Lyme Park, tomorrow the world. It was a perfect, warm, wind-free day for ice cream too, under the blue skies.

There were many people flopped out on the lawn that leads down to the lake. A family of goslings had also camped out there.

We joined scores, if not hundreds, of people wandering around the lake, some walking in the wrong direction: weirdoes.

Some of the plants were of course not identifiable by me, but unbelievably, even Liesel couldn’t name some flowers.

But apart from people, dogs and geese, there were some extraterrestrial beings.

The weather is slowly improving, by which I mean, getting warmer. And we know wind has been blowing in from the south, rather than from the north, because our car is now covered in dust from the Saraha.

Indoors, I continue to put together a two-hour show each week for Wythenshawe Radio WFM 97.2 and you are of course welcome to tune in each week on a Sunday at 4PM.

London part 3

Jean joined us here in London to keep Leslie company while Liesel and I went off to do our own thing. On the first tube train, I finished reading a book I’ve been struggling with for a very long time. It’s by an author I greatly admire, but this particular novel was, I thought, far too long, the language was, to me, often not natural, and I found it hard to know what was going on. But it has received great reviews so I guess we just weren’t a good match on this occasion. But I feel it would be mean to say which book it was.

From King’s Cross Station we walked north towards the venue for a special event.

So what was this special event? Here’s a clue.

Yes, today was our David Bowie Day. And here at the Lightroom, we watched David Bowie: You’re Not Alone. As the blurb says, the show invites us to step inside the creative mind of an icon, through film, photography and audio. Showcasing a wealth of material from the David Bowie Archive in New York City, this audio-visual spectacle transports audiences back in time to experience Bowie up close and celebrate the enduring power of songwriting and creativity.

We were surrounded by photos, footage from concerts, some of which I’d enjoyed myself. Yes, I looked for myself amongst the audience, but I didn’t see me, or anyone I was with. Don’t miss this epic multimedia spectacle at Lightroom, which runs until October 10th.

The show lasted about an hour, I sang along, listened again to some of David’s interviews, cringed at Russell Harty’s interview, and was reminded again why I am such a big fan. As well as the music, he was such an interesting person.

We admired the redevelopment of the area and ate lunch in one of its top end restaurants, Pret a Manger.

By Victoria Line and Mildmay Line (formerly London Overground), we travelled to Stratford. The shopping centre was, as usual, very busy, and we walked through to the old Olympic Park. Our destination was the V&A East Storeroom, a recent addition to the Victoria and Albert suite of venues. The main attraction for us (mostly me) today was The David Bowie Centre. There are 90,000 artefacts from David’s own archives, many of which are on display.

The walk from Stratford station was longer than anticipated so it was good to arrive and sit down with a coffee. Ten minutes later, we would have had to join the queue outside in the drizzle. Sometimes we are dead lucky with our timing.

It’s called a Storeroom for a reason. It is literally a storeroom full of old furniture, pictures and a million other things. Exhibits isn’t quite the right word here, since they’re not really on display.

But there are some humorous captions too, whether intentional or not, I don’t know.

So, a million objects on display, and yet after queueing for the toilet, you can only imagine the disappointment on finding there was no loo paper. This has to be one of my worst phobias, certainly in the top two.

We’re up on the second floor and we’re watching the queuers in front. We joined the line for the David Bowie Centre just a little bit beyond the sign that said not to queue beyond this point. I suppose it’s good that such a place is so popular, but we would have liked a wee bit more space.

I didn’t count the box folders safely stored on the shelves, but there were a few that we could examine, left out for us on the table. It was interesting to see some of the paperwork, images and behind-the-scenes pictures form Labyrinth. A film whose premier I was happy to see along with my wife Sarah and my sister Pauline. And that’s forty years ago now.

Here are early hand-written lyrics for the song Right which appears on the album Young Americans. We can only imagine what was going through his head at the time, but the end result is a wonderful, well-crafted song, featuring David Sanborn on alto saxophone, Carlos Alomar on Guitar, Mike Garson on clavinet plus Luther Vandross, Ava Cherry and Geoff MacCormack (David’s old schoolfriend) on backing vocals.

We wandered around the storeroom some more before leaving. Not fancying the walk back to Stratford, we decided to catch a bus to… well, we didn’t know… anywhere. In the end, we enjoyed a nice ride to London Bridge. Hackney’s a fascinating place, we passed by Mare Street (where my Dad’s Uncle Charlie lived), Bethnal Green, Brick Lane (where we’ve had bagels on a previous visit), Commercial Street (near where Sarah used to live) and The Monument (which Liesel had only asked about just a couple of days earlier).

Whinge of the day. Why can’t restaurants put their menus on a website that I can browse and even search? Why do we have to download a PDF which is much harder to read on a phone? Grrr.

London Bridge to Temple by tube then a walk to Thai Square on the Strand for a delightful meal. The light rain persisted but we dodged it when we walked to the Peacock Theatre. Not for a David Bowie-themed entertainment but a Japanese Drumming group called Yamato. I was so glad they put up this warning.

I think we would have been disappointed if it wasn’t loud! But it was fun, rhythmic and at times, incredibly funny. They really did play with joy, passion, stamina and strength.

Jean insisted that Liesel and I go out for breakfast so we walked to a lovely little place in Ealing called ‘The Moon & Maybe’.

‘The Moon & Maybe’: that’s a strange name, isn’t it? But the veggie breakfast was delicious. Glad we left when we did, as a family of about twelve were settling in. I wasn’t quick enough to shoot the bunnies, but it was quite cute to see them being taken for a walk on leads. One was picked up as soon as a dog appeared. That reminds me of the old Ricky Gervais line. What one item would you save if your house caught fire? One of the twins.

When a bee pooped on Liesel’s hand, I couldn’t convince her it was honey.

Back at the ranch, Jean packed and we all traipsed off to Euston Station. I was too slow at Gloucester Road station to take a picture of the gigantic waterlily sculptures on the disused platform.

Then, at Embankment station when we changed from the District Line to the Northern Line, we heard the original ‘Mind the Gap’ announcement by Oswald Laurence. It’s played for his widow Margaret, who travels via Embankment whenever possible just to hear her husband’s voice again. The announcements have been standardised across the rest of the network. I found it quite moving, on this day especially, since it was the twenty-fifth anniversary of Sarah’s death and of course that memory kept popping into my head.

Jean caught the train back to Manchester while Liesel, Leslie and I walked through the old University College area, past the Bloomsbury Theatre (where Sarah and I saw Tasmin Archer all those years ago).

We crossed over Tottenham Court Road and strolled on to The Carpenters Arms. Here we met Liesel’s cousin, Andi. Unfortunately, Steve was working today over in Richmond, where they live.

The pub seemed familiar, and after seeing the roof terrace, I knew I’d been here before, just a couple of times, when I worked at the University of Westminster. Sunday roast was the order of the day, nut roast for me of course. Again, no photo of the family, sorry.

We walked to Fitzroy Square, a very peaceful place right in the heart of the city.

After returning to our riding school in Ealing, we sat around and yakked for a while. After Andi left to go home, I think both Liesel and I felt comfortable enough to relax, have a lie down even! It had been an exciting but exhausting week in what will probably always be my favourite city.

London part 2

After breakfast, we walked to Ealing Common station. Back on the Piccadilly Line, this time to Leicester Square. It’s daft, I know, but I did feel at home hearing all the familiar tube stops being listed: Hammersmith, Earl’s Court, South Kensington, Knightsbridge. Each comes with its own memories. Unfortunately, the crowded train was very familiar from years ago too.

While in transit, we received the latest photo from Australia. Keiran is celebrating six months on planet Earth, his ½th birthday, so to speak.

So, why Leicester Square? It’s the closest stop to Liesel’s favourite clothing shop, Gudrun Sjödén. She and Mom spent a long time in the shop, browsing, trying on and eventually buying some lovely garments. Meanwhile, I went for a wander around the Seven Dials area.

Mainly, I was looking for a nice, little, independent coffee shop. I sat outside, and on the next table were a group of Americans. How did I know they were Americans? I just knew, mainly the assault on my lugholes. And it was confirmed when it started to rain, very lightly. They grabbed their stuff and scuttled inside. Yes, I can recommend Monmouth Coffee Company, in Monmouth Street, if you’re in the area. I enjoyed a few minutes quiet outside, letting my ears recover, before finding my way to Forbidden Planet, a very popular science fiction and fantasy book shop.

I did not however succumb to temptation and buy an ice cream here.

The assistant in the Gudrun Sjödén shop greeted me like an old friend. She gave me a seat and a glass of water while I waited for Liesel and Leslie to finish.

We walked to the Strand and caught a bus to St Paul’s. My old farts’ bus pass won’t scan on London buses so I have to show it to the driver every time. Then they press a button on the machine.

It started raining, lightly, as we walked over the Millennium Bridge but I did enjoy being able to scrape my shoes along the ribbed extruded aluminium panels that make up the surface, made smoother and more slippery after 26 years of heavy pedestrian traffic. Younger folks were brave enough to run and skid on the surface. Liesel looked at me in a manner that said ‘Don’t you dare’.

The queue at the main entrance to Tate Modern was quite long, outside, in the rain, so we walked round and went in via the Turbine Room entrance. Our bags were cursorily checked and we went into the café. It was heaving and too many tables were occupied by people ‘working’ on their laptops. As we left the café, our bags were searched again. We realised that we could have entered the café from outside through its own door. So much for security. We don’t mind having our bags checked, they’re trying to keep us safe after all. But at the same checkpoint, don’t have one member of staff telling us to stay put while a colleague is beckoning us over to her little desk. Grrr.

We decided to slum it and have lunch in the restaurant several floors up. Our view of St Paul’s was only partially obscured by raindrops on the window.

We were here at the modern art gallery to visit Tracey Emin: A Second Life. I tried to buy three tickets online. It said I had to create an account. Reluctantly, I do so. I buy three tickets. Go to check out. There are 6 tickets. Go back to remove 3 tickets. Pull some hair out. Give up. Hashtag enshittification. So I went to the ticket office and bought 3 tickets from a human. Easy.

I’m not sure what we were expecting really, just an exhibition of Tracey’s artworks, including a couple of really famous pieces. We weren’t expecting to learn so much about her personal problems and health issues. In the end, I just wanted to give her a hug, she’s had it pretty tough at times.

I Never Asked to Fall in Love – You made me Feel like This (2018)

Liesel and I often looked at each other in disbelief, feeling a lot of sympathy for Tracey. Perversely, I’m not sure she would necessarily feel that sympathy was justified.

Afterwards, we walked along a damp South Bank to Waterloo Station. And it’s reassuring to see some things don’t change. The booksellers are still out in force underneath Waterloo Bridge.

And I did have a chortle to myself when I noticed the Southbank Centre are celebrating 50 years of skating in the undercroft, under the Royal Festival Hall.

It wasn’t that long ago that the management here wanted to shift the skaters a few hundred yards along the river so the space here could be ‘redeveloped’. Public opinion won, on this occasion, hooray.

As planned, we met Helen and Steve from Chessington under the clock at Waterloo Station and we walked over to Tas, the Mediterranean Turkish restaurant on The Cut, opposite the Young Vic. A very pleasant meal was enjoyed by all and we witnessed a couple of brief downpours, watching several people fighting umbrellas or running for cover.

We returned home to our stables and slept very well.

Meanwhile, Jyoti and Rupert had arrived in Rome and already walked several tens of thousands of steps in a very busy city.

After breakfast, we returned to central London. We parted company at South Kensington. Liesel and Leslie went on to enjoy coffee and cake in the crypt of St Martin’s. They then wandered over to Chinatown, not sure how much food was consumed there.

I spent much of the rest of the day revisiting my old haunts in Kensington and Notting Hill. There are many more shops at High Street Kensington Station than there used to be. That’s progress, I suppose. My first port of call was Kensington Central Library.

A couple of hours writing and reminiscing followed. I’m pretty sure the place has seen some changes in the half century or more since I visited, as a student. But the WiFi is much more reliable now than it was in 1975.

Sarah and I spent a lot of time in and around Holland Park for a few years, so, feeling a little nostalgic, I had to pay a visit today.

I’m not sure whether we ever entered the Park through this ornate gate, but as you can see, it was locked today.

It was good to that artists are still inspired by Holland House. None of them wanted me to pose in front of the building, though.

Lunch was taken at the café along with visitors from all around the world.

The drizzle was half-hearted and it didn’t deter me from walking over to Campden Hill Road, the location of my first accommodation away from the parents. Freedom. Queen Mary Hall, my halls of residence, has now been converted to luxury apartments of course. Top floor, second window from the left, that was room 118 which I shared with my old mate Nick, who died far too young.

I walked along Campden Hill Road to Notting Hill Gate, a path trodden many times, on a visit to the chippie or on to Portobello Road market. I didn’t get that far today. But I was pleased to see The Gate cinema is still going. We spent one night there watching a film marathon… but for the life of me, I can’t remember what the movies were!

I spotted this sign on a lamppost, some very sad news.

When I turned round, I noticed that he had been found in the east Asian inspired restaurant.

Along the road, there is some wonderful street art.

This mural, featuring colourful figures with fragmented faces was created by artist Barney McMahon in 1997 to brighten a previously dingy alleyway.

And if that’s not enough art in a public space, I thought this mosaic was pretty impressive too. Just a few yards away from the mural, this is one of eight glass mosaic panels titled ‘Jumbie Jubilation’ located on the façade of the Ruby Zoe Hotel. It was designed by British-Trinidadian artist Zak Ové and created by mosaic artist Oliver Budd. It depicts a character from traditional Trinidadian Carnival masquerade costumes, celebrating ancestral African folklore.

When I lived in Kensington Palace Gardens (great address, dingy bedsit), I utilised a laundrette on Notting Hill Gate. It was and remained 20p a load for much longer than its nearby competitors. Sadly, I coudn’t find it today. But that’s OK, I didn’t bring any laundry with me anyway.

I strolled back up Campden Hill Road to The Windsor Castle. This pub was frequented a few times by we students from Queen Elizabeth College.

So it was good to return, again, after over fifty years! And yes, the prices have gone up a bit. I suppose it’s a traditional English pub, with wood panelling, bare brick fireplaces and small doors. I found the hidden garden but in the end, we sat inside.

Yes, it was a very pleasant afternoon chatting with Ade and Gideon, who I’ve not seen since we moved to Manchester. Sadly, the group was incomplete. Dear old Ken died suddenly a couple of months ago, so we drank to his memory. I invited both to get in touch the next time they’re up north for work, or anything.

I staggered to Notting Hill Gate station, well, not literally, but I had consumed more beer in one go than I have for years.

To Euston station where I met Liesel and Leslie. We were there to meet WI friend Jean. Unfortunately, her train was an hour late arriving, so it was quite late by the time returned to Ealing.

Yes, I realised later, I don’t have a photo of Ade and Gid and if I have one featuring dear departed Ken, it will be from over twenty years ago. I wish I were a bit more diligent in taking photos of people. I didn’t even shoot Helen and Steve. But I wanted some pics of the area because the ones I had from when I was living here, as a student, and later on, well, sadly they are no longer available.

London part 1

‘When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life’. ‘London is a modern Babylon’. ‘A bad day in London is still better than a good day anywhere else’. ‘Nothing is certain in London but expense’. ‘London is the place for me’. Most of the quotes could have been produced by the London Tourist Board of course, but that doesn’t mean they’re not true. The last one in particular is a great song by Lord Kitchener which always deserves a listen.

Anyway, we spent a most enjoyable week in London. We decided to drive since this was cheaper and more convenient than going by train. The journey was uneventful: in fact, almost unbelievably, we encountered no roadworks on the M6. Zero. Does that mean they’ve finished it at last?

One thing I did notice on the three and a bit hour long drive though was just how many illegal number plates there are now. I suspect most of these are so the driver can avoid detection by speed and ANPR cameras. Yep, we haven’t even reached the capital city yet and I feel the need for a bit of a whinge.

We were able to check in to our accommodation for the week nice and early. Ealing Riding School is a bit off our usual beaten track, but we thought a bit of horse-riding would be fun. Well, actually, no. Liesel hasn’t ridden a horse for about 25 years and I’ve not been on top of one for 65 years.

Mum and Dad took Pauline and me to the Epsom races a few times, including when I was 6 years old. I was given the opportunity to sit on a horse, way up there. I was extremely reluctant. Just hold onto its mane, they said. Well, I know what it feels like to have have my hair pulled, so I didn’t really want to do that. Just relax, they said. What? Up here? Easier said then done. Then, horror of horrors, it started to move. It walked round in a circle while the parentals encouraged me to relax and try not to be so stiff. The relief at being lifted down has lasted a lifetime. And now, at this riding school, seeing horses close up, I still don’t want to be on top of one, about six feet off the ground. It was quite nice chatting to them, though.

So, why Ealing? Jyoti and Rupert are off to Italy for a visit to Rome and a walking tour in and around Vernazza. They decided to spend a couple of days in London, seeing friends who live in Ealing. We met up in a coffee shop, of course before setting off for that major visitor attraction: Southall. This was my first ride on the Elizabeth Line. Only a few stops from Ealing Broadway, but I can now tick that off my bucket list.

Liesel and Jyoti on the Lizzie Line train

Last time I visited Southall was about 50 years ago, for an interview for a job that I assume I didn’t get. The streets felt properly alive, vibrant: sari shops bursting with every colour, especially gold.

The spicey aromas from dhabas and sweet shops mostly won out over the traffic fumes. We heard all kinds of music from the shops and a couple of buskers. Southall shows multicultural London at its best, as close as we’ll see maybe to Blue Mink’s Melting Pot. Busy, busy, busy. I know: it is a bit of a naff song by modern standards.

The World’s Number 1 Vegetarian Restaurant

We noted this restaurant, but we didn’t enjoy its offerings on this occasion. Nor did we visit the nearby Hindu temple.

One thing that I don’t think anyone noticed was that in my bag, I was carrying some scones. Liesel was carrying the clotted cream. This was our gift to Jyoti and Rupert. In return, they presented us with a dozen cans of diced chillies.

In a cute little resaurant, Poornima, unusually, rather than coffee, I chose a masala chai. The ingredients as listed on a blackboard: black tea, cardomom pods, ground black pepper, sugar, ground ginger, cloves, milk and a(n invisible) cinnamon stick. Refreshing is the word. And my samosa chaat was very nice, very tasty.

Back to Ealing where we walked to Jyoti’s friend Kirin’s house. I was surprised how quiet Ealing was, certainly the residential areas that we walked through.

We paid a visit to the Duke of Kent, the pub, not the late Queen Elizabeth’s cousin.

Over a most delightful meal, we chatted about music and about how the roses here in London are in bloom a lot earlier than they are up north, at Dunham Massey, say.

Back at the riding school, I think we were all glad to be able to lie down. As is often the case, we had a bit of a fight with the heating system. How to turn it off in one room, and how to turn it on in another.

Hawaii has an interesting if somewhat sad history. The Hawaiian royal family seemed to have a good relationship with the British royals. Until they sought support from Queen Victoria and her government when the USA decided to invade. UK said, nah, you’re on your own. Which is why, now, Hawaii is the 50th state. Its flag still includes the flag of the United Kingsom though. The exhibition at the British Museum was fascinating, and I noticed that the captions describing the items went to great lengths to emphasise that the artefacts had been legally acquired, donated or lent. Except where something was donated by someone with its earlier provenance beng ‘unknown’. Well, I think we can guess. Hawai’i: A Kingdom Crossing Oceans runs at the British Museum until May 26th.

Kūpe’e hoʻokalakala (bracelet)
Boar tusk, olonā plant fibre
Hawai’i; mokupuni (island) unknown

Possibly collected during Captain Cook’s third voyage (1776-80); documented as part of the British Museum’s collection in the late 1800s.

I’m not an expert in bracelets but I’m fairly certain this must be one of the most uncomfortable ones to wear.

Umi, exhibition co-steward and cultural practitioner based in Hawai’i.

I made the leiomano (shark tooth weapon) as a makana (gift) to the British Museum for inviting our stewardship group Hui Maki’ilohelohe to London to help care for collections here. But I also wanted to add a protective element and energy, those of a kia’i (guardian), for nā akua hulu manu (all the feathered gods). I wanted to bring this protective essence to them in a land so far from home.

Kanaka ‘Õiwi (Native Hawaiian) artist Dennis Kana’e Keawe based this lapaiki (drum) on an ancestral drum displayed earlier in this exhibition. During the Covid-19 pandemic, British Museum staff documented and photographed the original drum to guide Keawe’s work in Hawai’i. He gifted this drum to the Museum, opening a new chapter in the continuing shared stewardship. Milo wood, kapa (barkcloth), shark skin, nylon, fibre, ‘ie’ie aerial root. Made by Dennis Kana’e Keawe in 2020; donated by the artist to the British Museum in 2021.

The captions are from the Museum of course, thank you very much.

For some reason, I used to think that one day, after 100 years or so, Hawaii would be handed back to the UK, in the same way that we gave Hong Kong back to China. I just wish I could remember where that snippet of misinformation came from.

The plan was to go to a gig in Camden, at a favourite venue, in the evening. With this in mind, we booked a meal at a nearby favourite restaurant. At 1pm, I received an email apologising that the gig had been cancelled. Liesel hastily found and booked an alternative show, in Holborn.

I’ve mentioned enshittification before and here was a good example. The email said if I wanted a refund, then just reply. So I did. Only to receive a response that that email address isn’t monitored and my email would be deleted. I found an alternative email address and accused them of being scammers. Not because I thought they were, but I thought such an accusation would at least elicit a response. The revised dates for the gig were unsuitable, so I look forward to receiving the refund soon.

Liesel and Leslie enjoyed afternoon tea for lunch while I had my default: chips and salad.

We paid a visit to the Americas area in the Museum too, to pass the time but also, it had suddenly become much darker outside, a sure sign that there was about to be a torrential downpour.

Dennis Zotigh designed this regalia in the 1970s and wore it for powwows. Powwows draw different tribes together for dance competitions, drumming, and celebrating their shared history and heritage. The best drummers are paid to play for the dancers, who win money. Men, women and youth compete in different types of dances. The men’s Fancy Dance performance is the most dramatic and athletic. Dancers win based on their skills and regalia. Ute beadworker Angie Jacket sewed this regalia. Constantly innovating with new fashions, artists make dance regalia using available ribbons, mirrors, and plastic beads, in addition to feathers, furs and porcupine quills used historically. Kiowa/San Juan Pueblo/Santee Dakota regalia.

After the deluge, we met Jyoti and Rupert, caught a bus to Camden and walked to Mildred’s. This branch of the vegan restaurant chain felt less crowded than the Soho one. The food was, as usual, terrific. We were joined by Lydia, here to study in London, all the way from Anchorage.

After dining, we wandered over to Camden Lock and the market.

Instead of now visiting the Green Note for a show (at least we didn’t have to worry about having to sit on a beer keg because they’d run out of seats!), we caught the bus back to Holborn. Playing at Pizza Express was the Sonia Elisheva Jazz Collective. Sonia was a good performer, but the band were terrific, almost outshining the singer!

Piccadilly Line and District Line trains took us back to Ealing Broadway, and from there, we took a cab back to the Riding School. The outside gate was locked, so we had to crawl underneath it. The inside gate was locked, so we had to climb over it. We’ll never know how undignified we looked on the CCTV footage, which we requested to be destroyed. Also, however hard it was climbing over to get to our accommodation, it would have been much harder climbing over to get out, with a stilen horse over our shoulders. If we were criminally minded.

Later in the week, we learned that we could have just squeezed through the hedge to the side of the outer gate, and in fact, that it wasn’t really locked anyway, it just looks like it. To confuse people.

From top to toe

William played his part well in promoting the 2nd Cheadle Scut Group’s annual Ram Roast. We could hear him tooting all the way from Northenden.

Meanwhile, his cousin Keiran was quite happy to let the wind blow through his copious hair.

On TV, we all (avidly) watched (some of) the snooker World Championship final, between Shaun Murphy and Wu Yize. Some of the commentary was a bit naff, but the snooker was good. Wu Yize won, and he became the second Chinese player in a row to become World Champion. I would have liked Shaun to win, purely on the basis that he listens to the same podacst as I do, Danny Baker’s Treehouse.

We also watched series 3 of The Capture, one of those stories that makes you wonder just how much of it is actually true. If not today, then tomorrow… Great stuff.

But we weren’t sitting around getting square eyes all of the time. We did leave the flat for the odd shopping trip or wander.

At school, we were surprised and delighted to find a couple of frogs in the playground.

It’s part of Stockport’s Gigantic Leap Frog Art Trail, which features colourful and uniquely designed frog sculptures sponsored by local businesses and painted by local artists. I invited Liesel to leap over the frog, a fantastic photo opportunity, but she declined. Earlier in the day though, she had been mass producing sushi rolls.

We dined back at Jenny’s house, and although disappointed that they didn’t make their own on this occasion, Martha and William wolfed down the food. I like sushi too. There, I said it. Even though, whenever it’s mentioned, my first thought is ‘ugh’, because I still associate that word with fish (raw or otherwise) which I don’t eat. It’s a weird and annoying train of thought that I hope to grow out of one day.

We missed watching Martha at her cricket class tonight but promised to come along at the next opportunity.

I’m not at all jealous that Keiran has much more hair then I do, but I do wish he wouldn’t flaunt it quite as much.

The next time we collected Martha and William from school, we went litter picking in Cheadle Hulme. I’d like it say it’s a higher quality of litter here than in Northenden, but no, it’s the same old crap, some of it decades old.

We do know how to have a good time with our grandchildren!

Liesel and I walked to Didsbury via Withington Golf Course, just for a change, a place I don’t think I’ve visited since the pandemic. There was a goose on one of the greens, so I tried to mansplain the difference between a birdie, an eagle, an albatross and a goose, in golfing terms.

We stopped for a coffee in Fletcher Moss, where a duck started to approach us. It soon realised we had no food to give away, so it walked towards some other potential mugs. It reminded me of those chuggers you still see sometimes out on the High Street. Mmm, yes another strange train of thought. But they too back off after a dirty look.

In the evening, Liesel, her Mom and I drove into Manchester for our first concert for quite a while. The Puppini Sisters are celebrating their twentieth anniversary and they gave as a really good performance at Hallé St Peter’s.

Great harmonies, plenty of familiar songs to clap or tap along to.

Parking was easy. I used the app to pay. It cost 20p for over twelve hours, what a bargain! Actually, parking was free for the time we were there, I was just charged 20p because I used the app. Which I didn’t need to. What a rip off.*

Liesel and I drove to Oldham for a pedicure. Abi said I have better feet than most women do. She must be the best pedicurist on the planet, in my humble opinion, certainly a top judge of people’s plates.

WI friend Jean took Leslie out for a walk, but unfortunately, the heavens opened, they had rain and hail but managed to stay dry, indoors. While in Oldham, we heard quite a substantial thunderstorm.

And so, it was time to start packing for our exciting week away in London. Just the bare minimum. Or is is bear minimum?

*Yeah, there’s a word for this sort of thing: Enshittification. I’m currently reading a book called The Enshittification of Everything, by Cory Doctorow. Highly recommended if you’re like me, like a good whinge about stuff, and wonder why the heck everything is getting worse. Thank you Pauline. And it’s not just online stuff either. The parking issue mentioned above could easily be resolved by giving greater prominence to a sign saying that parking is free after 6pm, not burying that fact in page 43 of the terms and conditions in very small print. Grr.

Walking around

You should have been there near Quarry Bank when Liesel and her Mom attempted to shin up this tree.

Unfortunately, I ran out of film so there’s no photographic evidence. We did enjoy the walk however, through the woods, and back along the banks of the river Bollin.

Something I’ve always wanted to see on a walk in nature is a bird box with a magic square inscribed on the side. And my wish came true today.

Each row and column adds up to 111, the total for the square is of course 666. This magic square, known as ‘The Sun’, is often associated with Western esotericism and the planetary magic squares of Agrippa.

For bureaucratic reasons, Liesel and I paid a visit to Salford. Any excuse to go for a ride on a tram. And while there, we had a nice wander around, spotting plenty of wildlife.

Actually, the fish was in the aquarium in the office at the garage where we took our car for a service.

While Leslie visited Dunham Massey with a friend, Barbara, Liesel and I paid a visit to Stockport. We visited the oldest house in the town. Staircase House was first built in 1460, with numerous extensions built over the years and centuries following. It now houses Stockport Museum too. There was a fire in 1995 and you can still see scorch marks on some of the beams. It’s very slightly interactive in the sense that quills were available with ink, so we could have a go at writing the old-fashioned way.

We are planning to visit the famous Hat Museum one day too, but this display of old hats will have to do for now.

I tried one of them on which did not impress Liesel: she just assumed that I would have picked up some new friends. (I didn’t.)

I checked the time against the old longcase clock, and it was a couple of minutes out, but two people must have independently changed the time by one hour for British Summer Time, as it was really an hour and two minutes fast.

We walked by Strawberry Recording Studios, but I don’t think this venue wants visitors. Its association with the band 10cc resulted in some of the most memorable music being produced at these Studios, Paul McCartney, Neil Sedaka, Stone Roses, The Syd Lawrence Orchestra and many others recorded here. Not complaining, but if someone cleaned the window, I could have taken a better photo.

Because she’d been away on her actual birthday, Martha celebrated here at home a couple of weeks later. It was a gorgeous day and we all gathered in the garden. During the course of the afternoon, I realised that I can no longer use a hula hoop, I’m not much good at Tetherball, hitting a ball back with a racquet, and my aim with a frisbee is absolute rubbish. Juggling three clubs is also a skill I seem to have lost. I did however make friends with a St Mark’s fly. It did not want to leave me, no matter how much I jumped about.

Happy birthday Martha!

I waited all afternoon for the right moment. Martha’s garden is under a popular flight path from Manchester Airport so there was a flight every two or three minutes. The aeroplanes kept missing the Sun, until 18.20.

Another thing I’m not much good at is Mölkky, the Finnish outdoor throwing game, comprised of wooden skittles and a throwing stick.

We still see the occasional reasonable sunset from our luxury apartment.

But where’s Keiran, I hear you ask? Well, he’s a big fan of avocado. And he quite enjoys eating it sometimes too.

It’s been a while, but it was a joy to collect the children after school again. We took them to Diamond Jubilee Park where they roller skated around and had some fun in the playground.

When Liesel and I walked over to Didsbury, we saw a few birds on the river. I hadn’t seen a heron for a long time, but it’s good to see him back. Or is it a new one? There was a nice pair of mandarin ducks and a pair of mallards just messing about on the river. Well, until the male mandarin decided to make a move on the female mallard.

We both enjoyed our massages, just a shame the cab ride home was a bit of a rush afterwards!

The three of us returnd to Dunham Massey to enjoy the floral colours it has to offer, But the first port of call was the ice cream shop. Double scoops all round, thank you very much!

Regular viewers will know that my horticultural and floral knowledge is extremely limited. But Liesel instantly recognised this tissue tree… only that’s not its real name.

Did I mention colours?

Did we have another ice cream after a very pleasant walk? Tempted, but in the end, no.

Meanwhile, back at home, I’ve been busy making radio shows, trying to sell stuff on eBay, unsubscribing from mailing lists, reading books, listening to radio shows and podcasts, doing puzzles and generally passing the time in a most enjoyable manner.

Don’t forget you can catch up with Mick’s Music Mix on Wythenshawe Radio WFM 97.2 at 4pm each Sunday, or listen to the archived shows on Mixcloud.

Trees and daisies

Liesel and Leslie returned from Anchorage, this time flying via Heathrow airport. In the lift at Manchester, Terminal 2, someone had left a trolley laden with some really big, heavy cases. I didn’t think it was a problem, but I couldn’t find any airport official to report it to. So much for ‘See it, say it, sorted’.

I waited at the wrong exit, of course, but we finally met up and went home, where we enjoyed talking about our family in Australia. Just this week, Jenny, Liam, Martha and William climbed Sydney Harbour Bridge, enjoying good views of the Harbour and the Opera House.

Martha celebrated her birthday down under, she’s now in double digits and very proud of it!

Before Liesel came home, I took the car in to be washed. It seemed only fair to give it a bit of a clean and scrape all the moss off. I was a bit concerned though, when I saw this vehicle which had shrunk in the wash.

Our car survived in tact though, just big enough to transport all the luggage home from the airport.

It’s always good when walking around Wythenshawe to see something that transports you back to the 1970s.

We used to see bicycle tyres on many lampposts, and I’ve always wondered whether someone is good at throwing the tyres up and over, or do they shin up the post and slide it carefully over the lamp.

Liesel drove us over to Poynton Park with a view to having a picnic. In the end, we just sat in the car, the only picnic table being occupied. The park as a whole seems to be a haven for dog-walkers and the best thing about this park was a tree.

For the first time in fifty years, I stayed up late to watch splashdown in the Pacific. Artemis II and its four crew members had flown further from Earth than anyone else, beyond the farside of the Moon.

We thought we’d go for a walk at Dunham Massey. Liesel drove but the car had a mind of its own and it took us in totally the wrong direction. After the rainstorm though, we did have a very pleasant walk around RHS Bridgewater.

Yeah, The Bridgewater Ent! It’s lived here for a long time and looked after all the trees in Middle Wood: it’s now too old to be climbed on. So when Liesel got back down, I took this picture.

I was delighted to come across this particular succulent. It’s a new one to me and I can add it to my very important and long list of words that contain all five vowels.

Amongst other plants, we saw daffodils, striped squill, grape hyacinths, purple tulips, hyacinths and, er, chickens.

The back door to our block of luxury apartments has been closed gently and been slammed a million times since we moved here. But it must have been slammed once too often. On my return from a walk, I couldn’t fail to notice the glass was shattered. Within half an hour of phoning the management company, a man with a van turned up to remove the shattered safety glass. There’s a sweepstake on when the replacement pane will be installed.

The Thursday walk took us through Painswick Park this week. Where other parks were covered in dandelions, this one was festooned with daisies.

There were far fewer geese than usual too, so the path was safe to walk on.

Liesel and I had another attempt at visiting Dunham Massey for a walk, and this time, we ended up at the right place. Unfortunately, the rain was quite hard so we had to have coffee and cake in the café instead. Oh well. We picked up tokens to view a Rembrandt self-portrait at a very specific time. The painting is on tour around a few National Trust properties. It was interesting to hear about how they deduced it was the original, painted by Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn himself, and not a copy made by a student.

I don’t know how much longer the old oak tree is going to survive here, but the poor old thing is still worth taking a picture of.

It will be a sad day when it finally topples over into the Moat.

Leslie spent the afternoon with Barbara and she arrived home soon after we did.

The latest radio show was on the theme of Antisocial Behaviour. Listen here, or else…

Pink for Stink

Just about a year ago, I was in Albuquerque and while I was there, I really enjoyed one of the best recent science fiction stories, Project Hail Mary. You can only imagine how pleased I was to see that there is now a new film based on the story. So, I drove over to Parrs Wood Cineworld to watch it. And while a film is seldom as good as the original book, too many fine details missed out, I did enjoy it. As did the other six people in the cinema. The trouble is that by the time the adverts and trails had finished, we’d all finished our snacks. Note to self: next time, turn up 40 minutes after the publicised show time.

It’s that time of year again and I was pleased to receive birthday greetings from Keiran. Well, with his Mum’s help.

A strange birthday which I celebrated by myself since Jenny and family were flying to Australia on this very day. I enjoyed my scone, jam and cream prior to refueling the car at the slightly cheaper Sainsbury’s garage. Petrol locally is now 155.9p per litre, up from 138.9p just a few weeks ago.

Jenny, Martha, William and Liam in Sydney

It’s always good to see the world burst into colour during Spring and sometimes a photo doesn’t do justice to the real thing, so it needs a slight tweak.

Too much? Well, here’s the original

My memory suggests the true colour was somewhere between the two. Still, delightful, though.

I returned to Manchester for a short wander prior to donating blood. The biscuits and tea were very welcome, thank you.

What was I saying about Spring? I heard the rain, looked out and thought it looked like snow. But, no, that can’t be right, it’s just the angle of the Sun, obviously. Well, no. When I went out later, I saw this:

A pile of hailstones on the car. It didn’t feel that cold outside, but as Liesel later commented, we often do have a bout of bad weather around my birthday.

A bigger group than usual walked around Wythenshawe, through the woods and the parks.

Usually, we end up at Costa after this walk, but today, as part of the Greater Manchester Live Well Spring Festival, we met in a Public Living Room for a cup of tea and a chat.

Having a go on the pedal exerciser was not compulsory but it’s a great way of going nowhere fast.

And how lovely to see all the cousins together.

Who let the pigs out? Someone at Wythenshawe Community Farm, that’s who.

I think we enjoyed the walk around Wythenshawe Park and a coffee afterwards. Not so keen on finding a discarded, abandoned, child’s bicycle though.

Jenny and family are having a blast down under, and Keiran experienced his first flight at the grand old age of 4 months, as they all flew north, spending some time at Port Douglas. Which just escaped the worst excesses of Cyclone Narelle.

Liam, Jenny, William, Keiran, Helen, Brent and Martha

In other overseas news, Liesel and Monica attended their first embroidery class. Liesel learned five new stitches and achieved this work of art. Not bad for a first go.

Don’t talk to me about how Rage Against the Machine got their name: they were just trying to use their printer too, right? Grrr. [Full details omitted, for now.]

As it was April Fool’s Day, I suggested to the Northenden Walkers that we’d previously all agreed to wear something pink. Nobody fell for it, except this lady who brought the correct handbag.

In the coffee shop, I was disappointed to find that this gorgeous bouquet was not actually for me.

Walking by the Mersey on another bright day, watching the eddies and whirlpools, but oddly I didn’t see any duck families on this occasion. I wonder where they’re hiding?

The latest radio show is Wythenshawe Radio’s Greatest Hits in which I play tracks played by other presenters over the last few weeks. It’s here waiting for you to enjoy.

Getting warm

Suddenly it’s halfway through March, the temperature is hovering around -11°C and the snow, slush and ice is piled up outside. Not content with building ordinary snowmen or even snowhuskies, some creative folks have been very ambitious.

I am of course referring to Anchorage, Alaska, where Liesel and her Mom are actually not responsible for this snow sculpture. This one and many others were part of the annual Fur Rendezvous (Fur Rondy) festival in Anchorage. They enjoyed a variety of traditional events such as dog sledding, fur auctions, and outhouse races. And I can’t wait to see what manner of fur coat they bought for me to help cope with the much milder Manchester Winter.

The Statue of Liberty was created by Steve Lukshin and won first place in the solo division of the Alaska State Snow Sculpture Championship. Who knew there was such a thing?

In other overseas news, lovely Keiran in Brookvale, NSW, seems surprised to have reached the grand old age of 4 months.

Nearer home, it is warming up. Whereas we used to see a family of three magpies outside our apartment block, there is only one at the moment.

And yes, It does bring sorrow to see him on his own. On the other hand, there’s a very cheerful blackbird living in a bush near us. I don’t know yet whether there’s a young family of chicks, but his song is delightful.

Sunshine and blue skies always lift the mood, so visiting Quarry Bank for a walk was an offer I couldn’t refuse.

I met Jenny and the family there, and we wandered along the river Bollin towards The Carrs, just before Wilmslow. However many steps we adults took, William and Martha must have taken double. I wonder at what age you stop running about like that and just walk in a straight line, using the least amount of energy.

We played Pooh sticks on one bridge and failed to spot any fish in the stream. And of course, trees are there to be climbed.

Sadly, in 2020, Chris Hall, 48, was struck by a 22m mature lime tree whilst walking his dog Benson on the the main public path in The Carrs Park at lunchtime on August 28th 2020, along the same route they had used for the last 11 years. This was a tree that council bosses had failed to make safe after a previwous incident. Cheshire East Council failed to investigate when a large branch had fallen from the tree a year before and was subsequently fined £500,000. I mention this, because we passed the attractive memorial, and only later did I learn the story.

Oh, and where’s Martha?!

We all played with a frisbee for a while and I embarrassed myself by no longer being able to throw the thing with any skill. Maybe it’s just intrinsically easier to throw a frisbee up on Epsom Downs than it is here near The Carrs skatepark.

The playground equipment include a zip wire which was most enjoyable. As was the climbing frame. Martha and William had an ice cream while we grown-ups had a coffee.

On the walk back to the car park, we passed horses and gorses. By the river, when William climbed down into a deep hole, not one of us followed him.

For the first time in ages, I thought I’d order a pizza from Pizzeria, here in Northenden. Sadly, I discovered that it had closed down in November. So I tried one from the place over the road. How disappointing. The Deliveroo driver stopped somewhere else to pick up another order, so by the time my meal arrived, it was cold. I complained and got a refund of the delivery fee, but even after re-heating, it wasn’t a very nice pizza anyway.

Loyalty cards, pah. I just want to do a bit of shopping, or buy something. I don’t need a loyalty card for everything, I don’t want to become a member, register, join up: just lower the prices for everyone. I don’t need to collect points, rewards, tokens, coins, airmiles or anything. No I don’t want to make a charity donation or give a tip. And I really don’t want to give feedback for every service I receive. Just stop it. Whinge of the week.

One of my current favourite writers is Joanne Harris: she wrote, Chocolat and its sequels. A year ago, a prequel came out too, Vianne. To mark publication of the paperback edition, she is touring the bookshops of Britain. So of course, I had to go and meet her at Simply Books in Bramhall. She makes writing a novel look so easy. She was interviewed by Kay Crewdson who I’ve only known before from the BBC’s North West Tonight programme, when she tells us how bad the weather’s going to be.

That’s not a bookshop, I hear you cry. No, the venue was St Michael and All Angels Parish Church, a 12-minute walk from the shop.

It’s officially now warm enough to wear shorts, and show off these gorgeous old pins of mine. Although a trip into Manchester was ultimately pointless on this occasion, I revelled in the warmth: surely the warmest day of the year so far, 19° apparently.

Of the three weekly organised walks, I made it to all three. Everyone is happy with the new, improved weather.

Martha starred in a production of Shrek at school. And as usual, all the participants did very well.

I’m now torn between spending time outside in the (probably limited) sunshine and staying in, in front of the PC, preparing a radio show. As I discussed with someone the other day, I have no idea how I ever managed to fit in a full-time job.

The latest show is right here.