That’s Impossible, Mummy

I went for a walk in Chessington a couple of days ago. During that time, I chatted with four former colleagues at Royal Mail.

Our own Postie, Michael, is very helpful and we’re happy to return the favour, to make his day-to-day duty a little bit easier.

Duncan, the Delivery Office Manager, had a hip replacement last year and says he hasn’t felt this good for a long time. Royal Mail senior management don’t get any better. Duncan has just been copied in to a long thread of emails discussing the sale of Chessington Delivery Office and moving the staff into the spare space the Epsom office. All the plans have been made, values estimated, timetables agreed. But there’s just one problem. Royal Mail sold this office ten years ago and have been paying rent ever since.

Paul usually works indoors, serving customers who come to collect items that couldn’t be delivered. He also prepares the up to seven, yes, seven, door-to-door leaflets (unaddressed junk mail, pizza menus mostly) that have to be delivered to each house. 99% of which go straight into the recycling box.

Steve had two knees replaced last year and is recovering well. In fact, he chose to retire a few weeks ago too and syas he’s loving it. Not having to get up at 5 o’clock in the morning. Not knowing what day of he week it is. He thinks he might get bored one day, in which case he’ll look for a very part-time job.

But he has grand-children too and I have a sneaky feeling he will be spending more time with them.

It’s a funny feeling spending time with our Martha and William, knowing it’s never going to be enough time, but also planning to leave them for a year while we go travelling.

William has just turned 5 months of age. He has a gorgeous, cheeky little smile and if he doesn’t become the number one joker in his class at school, I’ll be very surprised. He will be able to pick us out in an ID parade, no problem, given the amount of time he scrutinises our faces, while trying not to laugh.

And here we are now, boasting about Martha, just over 2 years old. She is incredibly bright. Not only can she count from 1 to 10, she knows when he has 2, 3, 4 or 5 balls in front of her. Proper counting.

Playing in the garden today, she slipped on the slide, and when her Mum asked if she was alright, she said, “I’m fine.” She usually refers to herself in the third person, as Moo-moo. So, pronouns too.

And when her Mum asked if she wanted to climb up the slide, for the second time in two days, and we just looked at each other the first time, she said, “That’s impossible, Mummy.” What a concept for a 2-year old.

Salisbury and Ireland

Salisbury has been in the news recently for all the wrong reasons. A Russian migrant, his daughter and a police officer were affected by Novochok, a nerve agent that can only be made in Russsia. They’re still cleaning up the town, but not everyone wears a biological protection suit. So when Liesel and I went to meet a friend there, we chose to wear ordinary clothes.

A lot of ordinary clothes, as it happens, because it was one of the coldest days of the month. None of us walked as far as we would have liked, from the car park to a coffee bar to the Boston Tea Party for lunch, a quick visit to the bookshop and then back to the car park.

The car park was free of charge for up to three hours, in an effort to attract visitors to the town again.

Today, we drove to Reddish to see Jenny, Liam, Martha and William. We’re staying in an Airbnb place because their house is in a state of flux right now, and probably will be until they can move to their new house.

In a first for Liesel, she asked our Airbnb host to sign her book. Our host happens to be Fionn Davenport, a travel writer who wrote the Lonely Planet Guide to Ireland that Liesel was reading on the drive today, as we’re off to Ireland next week.

Small world, innit?

Two Gigs and More Music

At the River by Groove Armada has just been played on the radio. It took me back to the late ’90s, listening to GLR while doing the washing up. The sky was blue, the sun was out, I could hear the waves crashing on the beach, the sound of gulls squawking in the distance, and feelings of comfort and warmth. Nostalgia. It seems along time ago, now, twenty years in fact, but it’s funny how hearing a song can evoke all those feelings from so long ago.

The previous song was Blues in the Night by Rosemary Clooney. Not many songs remind me of my Dad, but this one did. Far more songs remind me of my Mum, Dad just wasn’t interested in music, apart from a very select, short list of songs.

Thanks to Guy Garvey on BBC 6 Music for proving that mentally at least, time travel is possible.

Talking about music, this week, Liesel and I went to two gigs. Not on consecutive nights, that would just be too much for these old bones.

Martha Tilston appeared at The Half Moon, Putney and showed us her new film, the Cliff Top Sessions, in which she invites a group of fellow musicians around to her place to play and sing.

Afterwards, she performed some of her own songs too, both old and new. I think we’ve seen Martha play live more often in the last twelve years than any other musician and she’s always good value. We bumped into her Mum too, but never did get around to having a long catch-up.

O’Hooley and Tidow are rising stars from Yorkshire whose songs are usually about real people and real events. They have great harmonies and Belinda O’Hooley’s keyboard playing is fantastic (classically trained, surely?) and their on-stage presence is lovely, very friendly and funny. They were at The Ram Folk Club based in a sports club in Thames Ditton, not a stone’s throw from where we live. We wish we’d found out about The Ram Club years ago but somehow, it’s been under our radar. And just before we move away, too. How’s that for rotten luck?

Sadly, on this day in 1993, Mick Ronson passed away. He was in David Bowie’s band in the early 1970s, during the time most of us fell in love with the science-fictiony, strange new music. When I went up to University in 1973, there were very many Michaels so to differentiate, I chose to be called Mick, in honour of Mr Ronson. I shared a room with Nick. Mick and Nick, well, it made sense at the time. The only people to carry on calling me Michael or Mike were my parents and official bodies such as banks, the NHS and the passport office. I still feel like a ‘Mick’ and when someone does call me Michael, I still expect to be told off for something. I remember seeing Mick Ronson join David Bowie on stage at the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert in 1992, a very moving event in many respects.

Practice Run

It’s going to take a lot of planning, this long trip of ours. So we’re having a practice run. The house sale seems to making good progress, if a little slower than we would like, so we’re taking a couple of weeks out and going to Ireland.

We want to see if we can manage with just one bag each, a backpack, with up to two weeks of clothing plus all the other paraphernalia we’ll need.

My list has been drastically reduced. If I’m going to blog, I’ll need a device, probably a laptop. Or so I thought. I need a new camera too. And my old iPhone is on its last legs. Well, it is nearly 6 years old, which is about 150 in dog years.

But instead, and after weeks and months of cogitation, seeking advice and careful thought, I bought a new phone a couple of days ago. A new smartphone. I bought a keyboard too, which connects to the phone via Bluetooth. And that’s it. All I’ll be taking is the phone, the keyboard and my Kindle. No laptop needed. And no camera, new or otherwise, because according to the adverts, my new phone has reimagined the camera.

It’ll take ages to get to grips with the new cameras on the new phone, but no moreso than if it were a standalone item.

It’ll take a while to make the most of this keyboard too, to be honest. This is its maiden voyage, and typing ordinary text seems to be working OK. When I’m not in blogging mode, I’ll mess about with the other keys: F-keys, volume control, ctrl, alt, cmd, fn, arrows, all the others. As with most modern tech and gadge, there’s no manual, in this case, not even a quick start guide.

New phone and keyboard combo

This is what my blogging setup looks like. And good to know I can add photos, a bit of a faff, but good to know it can be done. And probably can be done quicker and more efficiently with experience.

So, we’re trying to manage with one backpack each. We now own brand new, light backpacks. We’ll take them to Ireland with a minimal amount of clothing. And the first test after Ireland is likely to be Alaska, which can be a bit chilly and might warrant warmer, thicker clothing. The plan is to be there in Summer, though, not in the depths of Winter. And after that, a series of nice, warm destinations.

But first, we conquer Ireland. We thought about taking the car with us on the ferry from Holyhead or from Liverpool, but that is so expensive. We will now fly there and hire a car for a few days less than a fortnight. We’ll be staying a some Airbnb places and trying not to do too much. We’re saving Dublin for last, and will be making use of public transport there. Liesel’s done all the planning and the booking on this occasion, so I’m sure it will all work out.

Regarding the house: we have received some enquiries from our buyer and a form that needs to be signed and witnessed.

RHS Wisley

Another hot, sunny day invited us out. We drove to Clandon Park but we didn’t go in because we’d left the National Trust cards at home. There’s nothing like great planning. And this was nothing like great planning.

So we continued on to the horticultural gardens at Wisley, just by the A3. There, we had a lovely, long walk, a coffee and carrot cake.

The beds were of course very pretty, and the grass was mostly in top condition. One area of lawn was being cut by a robot, a little mower that was moving autonomously or had been programmed to follow a certain route.

Other areas were a bit more wild. Lots of dandelions in some places. Dandelions, named after the French for lion’s teeth, dents de lion. Because as we all know, lions have bright yellow teeth. Here’s a great work of art:Dandelion sculpture

And here’s today’s rubbish selfie. Trying to get the waterfall in the background. We discussed getting a selfie stick but decided against it: it’s just more rubbish to leave at home when we go out because it’s too cumbersome.

Rubbsih selfie

If you’re taking notes, we walked about six miles today.

I went to the GP this morning (never mind why). While sitting in the waiting room, I saw a sign saying “Are you having problems with your memory? If so, discuss it with your doctor.” I thought I might as well, since I do sometimes forget names and words.

I forgot.

 

#thehottestdayoftheyear

Yes, it was the hottest day of the year so far. This usually occurs in April of course, only to be surpassed later on in the year. But the main topic of conversation on a few of the radio stations we briefly tuned into on the way home was the fact that the top trending hashtag today on Twitter is #thehottestdayoftheyear. Other hashtags are available too, such as #hottestdayoftheyear and #warmestdayoftheyear. And capitalised versions. But after such a long Winter that didn’t really want to finish, it’s fabulous to see blue skies, see the Sun and feel its heat.

We went for a walk in Richmond Park, the biggest and our favourite royal park in London. We saw a couple of single deer, several dogs, some even on leads, loads of birds and many, many muddy puddles. One day, we’ll take our grandchildren there to jump in them.

We enjoyed a picnic under a tree, listening to the birdsong. The occasional aeroplane was seen and heard as it flew towrads Heathrow Airport. A group of young menĀ  were listening to music on their ‘device’: radio, ghetto blaster, phone? We’ll never know.

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Mick and Liesel

I am no good at taking selfies. At least we’re both in this one, but I usually miss. And of course, the horizon is horizontal in real life.

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A tree

This is the dead tree that we didn’t climb, despite the temptation.

We walked over five miles today, not bad since it’s the first time in the park for ages. Other firsts for the year today include me wearing shorts, we both had an ice cream and it was the first application of sunblock (one of us, not me).

 

Another Museum and a Zoo

Liesel and Mick spent a lovely long weekend in the company of granddaughter Martha as she celebrated her second birthday. She, her Mummy, Daddy and baby brother William are also in the throes of moving house. No date for moving yet, but such is the uncertainty, we weren’t sure that Martha would be having her birthday at the proper time (but don’t tell her).

We grandparents took Martha to Chester Zoo one day which was good fun. No, we didn’t tick many animals off the mental list because most of them seemed to be taking shelter from the cold weather. It’s April, and it should be warming up a bit but the cold spell is going on a bit.

The Museum of Science and Industry in Manchester is probably too old for Martha, really, but there is an area where she can play with things: move magnets, turn whees, press buttons, interact with the exhibits. She can also hide in the lockers which may have been a highlight.

Back home, Martha was having fun chalking on her blackboard.

Oma, Liesel, drew this:

Oma fish

 

 

 

 

 

 

“What’s that, Martha?”

“A fishy!”

Rounds of applause.

Grandad, Mick, drew this:

Grandad fish

“What’s that, Martha?”

“Horsey!”

Howls of laughter, and a whip-round so Mick can go back to art school.