current affairs – Mick and Liesel's Antics

AK, AI and AG

The Online Safety Act has been in the news a lot recently. Ostensibly, it’s to protect children and others from harmful content on the internet. Well, some sites are being a bit over-zealous. I tried to access something quite innocuous, and for the fiorst time ever, it wanted to check I was old enough. This site chose to do so by looking at me and estimating my age. I made sure my boatrace was in the designated ellipse, which it called a circle. It then had the nerve to tell me, “That doesn’t look like a real face.” Well, it’s the only one I have, so I guess I won’t be visiting this site again any time soon. Rude.

Helen flew home after a relatively short but welcome visit, looking good and ready for the next adventure.

Pauline and Andrew returned from their side trip to Thirsk and beyond. They had a splendid time visiting Newcastle and Alnwick and came back with Geordie accents.

Suddenly, there was an exclamation from their room. What’s wrong, Andrew? It sounded like a big deal. It wasn’t really. While staying with Yvonne and Ian, Andrew had hidden the loudly ticking alarm clock amongst his soundproofing clothes. He just realised that he still had it. Pauline consulted her old school chum who revealed that other visitors had merely removed the batteries from the clock!

While berating Andrew for inadvertently stealing a clock, Pauline came across Yvonne’s copy of the English Heritage brochure in her own bag. I told them that in view of their criminal record, I have taken a full inventory of items in my own luxury apartment.

After a leisurely start to the day, we walked over to Didsbury again. It’s a nice walk and I wanted to see the refurbished path on the side of the river that’s been closed to pedestrians for a couple of weeks.

The path used to be notoriously bumpy, with bricks and rubble peppered along its length. It would be nice to see it nice and smooth and flat, like the path at the Didsbury end.

The level of anticipation as we approached the new bit was almost unbearable. I was on my own at this point, as Pauline and Andrew walked along the upper level path, not fully appreciating how important and exciting this new path was. It’s white gravel, not solid concrete or anything and while it’s better than what we had before, I wonder if it will survive next time the river’s in flood?

Then round the next corner, the renewed path came to an end.

Disbelief followed by manic laughter was the only possible response. I guess we Northenden folk don’t deserve the same riverside walking experience as the posh people of Didsbury.

Andrew found a golf ball which he decided to keep, adding it to his collection of purloined items.

And then, just before Simon’s Bridge, there’s another stretch of white gravel to enjoy.

Even the upper level path has been treated, just a little bit.

How good is AI, part 1? I showed this picture to Google, to see whether it could identify the location. I knew it wouldn’t identify the people. But here’s what it said:

The image captures a moment of two individuals, possibly a couple, [true] walking outdoors on a sunny day. They are on a path surrounded by lush green foliage, suggesting a natural setting like a park, countryside trail, [true] or a garden. The man has his arm around the woman, indicating a close relationship. [true] In the background, other people can be seen, suggesting a public area. This image was shared on Facebook with the caption “Me walking into danger”. [Utter rubbish, the similar picture on Facebook is of a total stranger] Don’t rely on AI for anything important.

We stopped for coffee and a snack in Fletcher Moss Park before wandering around the rockery, admiring the plants and the baby moorhens in the murky water.

Some people are so talented, and this woodpecker certainly lifts the mood.

And finally, in this small collection of bird related pictures:

Obviously not a real chicken, but the name given to this fungus that likes growing on rotten wood. Apparently it’s edible and tastes a bit like chicken. None of us were willing to try it out.

In the parsonage garden, we were greeted by another wood carving.

The weeping ash tree was planted nearly 200 years ago, but succumbed to ash die back disease in 2022. The Green Man that has been carved into an old tree stump is believed to be an ancient symbol of life, death and rebirth. The work was carried out by Andy Burgess, wood sculptor, September, 2023.

We visited the Parsonage where we learnt some local history. Shouldn’t laugh, but Didsbury gets its name from Dyddi’s burgh, from a long time ago.

The place has been lovingly restored over the years, the highlight for me being a stained glass window which acts as a sundial, one of only 44 such in the whole country, apparently.

And in the garden, perhaps the mosts surprising thing was seeing late blooming magnolias.

As if the metal heron in Northenden’s Riverside Park isn’t impressive enough, here in Didsbury, there’s an eagle perched above the lychgate leading to the parsonage garden.

We walked home after a quick visit to the Art of Tea café and bookshop. By now, the temperature was a welcome 28°.

In the evening, after a sunny day with clear skies, I was hoping to see, and maybe photograph the thin cresnt Moon just after sunset. Sadly, a band of cloud appeared low in the sky, ruining my plans.

While Pauline and Andrew visited Manchester Art Gallery, taking the bus into the city, I stayed at home to prepare for my own next adventure. The to-do list was successfully tackled, even though for a while, for every item I ticked off, I thought of somegthing else to do.

I did something today that I very rarely do. I went clothes shopping for myself, specifically to acquire a pair of blue socks. Can I just say yet again that the men’s clothes department in M&S is so depressing. It could do with some colour. Even the socks I found are a dull shade of blue.

Later in the afternoon, we all watched some cricket on TV.

Early Wednesday morning saw P&A go out for a walk. I joined the regular, organised stroll and Pauline accompanied us too.

How good is AI, part 2? I saw something interesting, took a picture of it and asked Google, what could it possibly be?

It said:

The object in the image is a puffball mushroom, likely a species from the genus Calvatia, such as the Giant Puffball (Calvatia gigantea) or the Skull-shaped Puffball (Calvatia craniiformis).

Such certainty. But, just round the corner, there was a whole bunch of these things, some of which had burst, revealing them to be wan-coloured balloons.

We enjoyed a coffee back at Boxx2Boxx. Sitting outside, we felt about three spots of rain, but the rain didn’t start properly until after we’d returned home. The threatened thundersturm didn’t materialise, in the end, and I think we were all a little disappointed.

At Pauline’s request, we joined the children and their parents at Piccolo, an Italian restaurant in Didsbury.

Liam, Martha, William, Andrew, Pauline, Mick, Jenny

This was by way of another farewell meal. Next morning, I was up before 5am, and ready to catch my cab at 6am. P&A were staying at the flat for one more day, before catching trains all the way to Guildford, the birthplace of me and my sister.

Manchester Airport, Terminal 2, was where my next rip to Anchorage began. No major upsets, other than the Baggage Handling system being down, so even though loads of us had checked in online and just had to print our baggage labels and attach them to the bags, we couldn’t just quickly drop them off. In security, we didn’t have to take anything out of our bags before screening, no electronics nor liquids. So civilised. But I had to take my belt off or the personal scanner would have been confused.

The worst experience though was probably walking through the fume cupboard that is the duty free shop with its sickly combination of perfumes. My sneezing fit could probably be heard at my final destination.

The flight to Frankfurt Airport was uneventful but after landing, we had to while for someone to find the bus. The bus ride to the arrival gate was nearly as long in duration as the flight itself.

More stinky perfume in this airport, something that my old Chemistry teacer would have described as ‘Sewer de Paris’. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the inky stench from the complimentary copy of the New York Times provoked another sneezing fit.

The officers here made it very clear that the extra, unwelcome and unnecessary, passport check at the departure gate was at the instigation of the US Governement. It slowed down the boarding process, but in the end, the flight to Anchorage departed just a few minutes late.

I understand the science, but it still feels weird, taking off at 3.30pm and arriving at 3.10pm, same day, 7000 miles away. The flight was a little bumpy in places, but I noticed from the on-board screen, we were deviating a bit from the planned route, presumably to avoid the worst of the stormy weather.

It took a while, but I finally realised what Condor’s new livery reminds me of. Pippi Longstocking.

It was lovely to be collected at Ted Stevens Anchorage International Airport by Jyoti. In an unexpected and exciting turn of events, she drove me straightaway to Fred Meyer to buy some groceries. Liesel met us here, and while I ran towards her in slow motion, she didn’t reciprocate. Indeed, she was quite rude about my ‘silly walk’.

How good is AI, part 3? I was chatting with a chatbot about some David Bowie lyrics, ahead of me re-starting my radio show very soon (spoiler alert!)

Here is what it said. Yes, there are factual inaccuracies, so not to be relied on:

Here is a list of David Bowie songs that mention specific numerical times, including the ones you noted:

Songs with Specific Numerical Times

1. “Five Years” (The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, 1972)

· Time Mentioned: The title itself, “Five Years.”
· Context: This is the most famous and impactful use of a specific time period. The news announces that the world will end in five years, creating the album’s central apocalyptic tension. It’s a countdown that hangs over every song.

2. “Time” (Aladdin Sane, 1973)

· Time Mentioned: “5:15”
· Lyric: “Time, he’s waiting in the wings / He speaks of senseless things / His script is you and me, boy / Time, he flexes like a whore / Falls wanking to the floor / His trick is you and me, boy / Breaking up is hard, but waiting for you is the hardest thing I’ve ever known / (5:15) and I’m still waiting for you, don’t you know?”
· Context: This is the prime example. “5:15” evokes the “angel hour” or a very specific, anxious moment of waiting, possibly after a night out. It’s a time suspended between night and morning, perfect for the song’s themes of anxiety, decadence, and wasted time.

3. “Young Americans” (Young Americans, 1975)

· Time Mentioned: “9:25”
· Lyric: *”**They pulled in just behind the factory / That’s where he, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know /

This is about one-tenth of the regurgitation, so I pressed the Stop button at which point it continued…

he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know / He took her, you know, he took her, you know

This response is Al-generated, for reference only.

I said:

sorry to interrupt but I think the record’s got stuck

It said:

You are absolutely right! My apologies, that response went completely off the rails and got stuck in a very long and bizarre loop. Thank you for catching that -it was a technical error on my end.

Let me correct that and provide a proper, concise answer to your excellent question about specific numerical times in Bowie’s lyrics.

Nah, I’m good, thanks.

So, to summarise, AI stands for Absolutely Useless.

Antipodean visitors

The most recent post suggested I wasn’t having work-related dreams. Well, since then, I have done. Unusually, not about postal delivery, but a conflation of all the IT jobs I’ve had and the busy-ness of the office and rearranging the desk layout for no good reason and panicking because the computers won’t work and trying to do the right thing but knowing I wouldn’t satisfy all of my bosses – yes, I was reporting to many so-called ‘managers’ in the end. And then I remembered, I’ve retired, I don’t actually have to be here in this hell-hole in the first place. The sense of relief persisted long after I woke up.

I remember scrumping on the way home from school sometimes, near the top of Holloway Hill in Godalming. Apples hanging low over someone’s garden fence. A bit maggotty sometimes, but very tasty. I was reminded of this on the day we visited the Gauntlet Birds of Prey Eagle and Vulture Centre in Knutsford. There’s an apple tree outside the place, and, really, it would have been rude to ignore it. So a couple of apples were liberated to add to our picnic.

We all enjoyed our day out with William and Martha. A lot of the birds were in cages, and they were definitely at their when best flying around. They’re free to escape if they want, but I think they’re so well looked after, they’re happy to return by the 5.30 curfew! It’s a family run business, and they’re doing a lot for conservation.

First stop though was the playground.

Here are some of the birds who seemed happy to see us.

But it was much more fun watching the flying display. One of the hawks nearly gave Martha a haircut when she stood up suddenly. Mostly, they were too fast for this videographer but I captured a couple without wasting too much film.

There was a nice quiet picnic area where we ate our picnic lunch, without being pestered by pigeons. I suspect the local vultures and hawks may have been the main deterrent.

Liesel joined the WI for some litter picking in Riverside Park, even though it was raining, on and off.

In fact, we had quite torrential rain for a couple of days, thanks to Storm Floris. But once the storm moved on to Scandinavia, we were back to a proper, warm Summer.

Which Liesel and her Mom will miss. I dropped them off at the airport for their flight back to an Anchorage Summer, just a little bit cooler than ours.

William sent us his first ‘Make and Create’ videos for his putative YouTube channel. I’m just glad he didn’t start each presentation with a “Hey guys, um…”, which, for me, is pretty much an instant turn-off. He did invite us to “Like and subscribe” however, so that’s promising.

Parking at Wilmslow station is notoriously difficult, but of course, I forgot that fact when I suggested picking someone up there rather than driving into Manchester city centre. Still, it was great to see my sister Pauline, along with her partner Andrew, on their first visit to the UK from NZ since Jenny and Liam got married three years ago.

So, within the space of a couple of days, I swapped a wife and mother-in-law for a sister and a brother-in-law.

Jetlag notwithstanding, we joined Jenny and the family for an Indian meal in Bombay to Mumbai, an Indian (did you guess?) restaurant in Bramhall. The food was lovely but ‘medium spicy’ in this case was just on my limits of comfort! And the waitress (apols for the old-fashioned word) was very friendly too. Some music started and I thought we were in for another round of ‘Happy Birthday’. No, it couldn’t have been more different. She performed an aria from Don Giovanni which left everyone stunned, and she deserved the rapturous round of applause.

It’s been a while since we’ve visited Lyme Park, so that was the venue for a nice Saturday wander on a beautiful day. We (my sister) prepared a wonderful picnic as did Jenny. And a millon other folks: even the overflow car park was overflowing.

From this point of view, there’s usually a beautiful reflection of the house in the lake, making for a fab photo. But the lake is being or has been drained, by the looks of it. Maybe this is for the renovation/refurbishment promised after the floods a few years ago.

It was a perfect day to visit, so many colourful flowers are out in bloom, and we even saw more than a couple of butterflies.

William put on a very half-hearted puppet show: I think he much preferred just running around. I quite agree. Not that I was running around. Although I did get a message from a local group on Instagram asking how my running was going.

Afterwards, we all gathered at Jenny’s where Martha showed off her collection of gemstones, rocks and seashells.

At last, after years of us all moaning about it, the path that we walk along to Didsbury is being fixed. Until now, it’s been a very bumpy stroll, it looks like someone just dumped tonnes of broken bricks and rubble along its length. But soon, we hope to be able to walk along a nice, smooth, flat path. Maybe even as good as the path they already have at the Didsbury end. So, when Pauline, Andrew and I decided to walk over to Didsbury, we had to stay on the other side of the river. We even took a shortcut through Dogshit Alley. Last time we three went this way, with Liesel, three years ago, we turned right and were challenged while we were looking at the allotments. We didn’t risk it today, turned left straightaway, said “hey” to the horses in the field and proceeded to Simon’s Bridge. Golf is supposed to be a nice, gentle relaxing game. But to drive to and from the course, it seems obligatory to drive along the narrow road at no less than 90 mph. Not ideal when you’re a pedestrian.

Andrew suggested that golf might be easier and more fun if the holes were a little bit bigger, because so often the ball misses by a small margin. I thought football would be more exciting if the goals were a bit wider too. Basketball would be easier for short people if the baskets were lower down. And I’ve always maintained that I would have enjoyed cricket more if the ball wasn’t so hard. I spent most of my cricket ‘career’ at school hiding in the pavilion keeping score, because George, the games teacher, refused to let us (me) play with a tennis ball.

We did see a very rare sight though. No, not a heron, nor a family of ducklings. We passed a jogger, not unusual in itself, but she was actually smiling, almost like she was enjoying herself. Weird.

Due to restoration of the embankment in the Diudsbury area, following extensive flood damage, we had to walk into the village directly, not via Fletcher Moss Park. Somehow, I found myself in La Chouquette, so I bought a gorgeous loaf of sourdough.

We admired the many, colourful planters in Didsbury and visited a few shops before settling for a coffee at FFS.

We wandered around Didsbury Park, I think my first long visit there without there being a fair taking place. We came across several animals carved from wood: some people are very talented.

Walking home always feels quicker for some reason. Two young lads approached us on the narrow path next to the river. They were riding an electric scooter travelling fairly fast, so we stood aside for them. But the thought occurred, one untimely bump in the path and they could easily end up in the water!

Round at Jenny’s in the evening, we played Pictionary. This is the actual game that Sarah and I had all those years ago, including some of our ancient works of art. Tonight, it was Boys v Girls, and of course, we Boys went into the lead very easily. But in a strange turn of fate, the Girls finally won.

We’re experiencing the fourth heatwave of the Summer now which means it’s hot and sticky at night again. So, once again, I reversed the polarity of the electric blanket, so I have a nice, cool surface on which I can push up the zeds. I’m having some funny dreams though. Not sure if that’s due to the heat or the new medication I’m taking.

We all, that is me, Pauline, Andrew, Jenny, Martha and William (Liam was working) met up at Alderley Edge for a more hilly walk. As usual, we tried to follow one of the named trails, kept changing our minds, and finally got lost.

I ended up walking along the road while the others walked up a long, long series of steps that we’d just walked down, me being very happy that we weren’t walking up them! Unfortuantely, the road I was on wasn’t the one I thought it was. From this point, I had a half hour stroll back to the car park, where our picnic lunch was locked in the car. The road was flat thought, and I knew I’d get there eventually. But no, I turned onto Swiss Hill. And what a hill. Incredibly steep, and cobbled. After it levelled out, I thought I was OK. But no. Another steep hill as I turned left again.

This was where Jenny collected me in the car! A quick drink at the café was made even quicker after we were joined by numerous pesky wasps. But we ate our picnic lunch in peace. Martha made a new friend, one with fourteen spots!

This evening’s game, again round at Jenny’s, was ‘Out of the Loop’. It’s a social deduction party game where players try to identify who among them is out of the loop, who doesn’t know a secret word in a given category. Players ask questions of each other, questions suggested by the game, an app, itself. Great fun. But I’m rubbish. I ended up with zero points, while everyone else scored in the hundreds. What a strange scoring system!

Liesel and I have lived here up north for six years now, but we’ve never joined a bus tour of Manchester. Well, today, Pauline, Andrew and I did just that. We joined the ‘hop-on hop-off’ bus outside Bridgewater Hall, where I saw posters for a couple of shows that I might be interested in. But that’s all in the future.

The commentary was informative, no serious attempt at humour. Although a poster on the bus had definite Aussie vibes.

We hopped off at the Football Museum, which, despite my lack of interest in football, I found quite engaging and informative. Lots of fun and games, especially for young fans. Of course, the biggest photo is that of the 1966 World Cup winning England team. A black and white picture, blown up, with the kit colourised. I don’t remember seeing a picture of the England team that recently won the Euros. But they were girls, banned from playing on FA grounds until 1971.

The queue for the penalty shoot-out was too long for us, so we let the lads wearing football shirts have a go instead.

We hopped back on the bus on its next circuit and enjoyed the trip around Manchester and Salford. I realised again, I couldn’t be a bus driver in Manchester, the streets are too narrow, and too many people park their vehicles in really daft places. But our driver managed.

In Salford, we hopped off again and spent a couple of hours at The Lowry Theatre. The immersive ‘Lowry 360’ show was unfortunately sold out, but we enjoyed looking again at other works by LS Lowry. There were some miserable people here though…

… at least, in this picture. Happier folks in this next picture, though. Pauline and I again bemoaned the fact that we don’t have the photos taken of us at Bourton on the Water, standing on the little bridges, when we were about 6 and 4 years old.

Next to the LS Lowry exhibition is another one, celebrating the work of top illustrator Quentin Blake. In contrast, his pictures are very bright, colourful and joyous. And there were plenty of children here having a great time, drawing their own pictures.

We hopped on the bus again, after waiting for just a few minutes at the stop near Salford Quays.

We had a late afternoon date to meet up with Jenny and the family at a restaurant in Cheadle. I’d been to Yara before, but this time, we sat outside, in the shade, which was very pleasant.

I,for one, was taken by surprise when I walked in and saw Helen. My daughter Helen, all the way over here from Brookvale, NSW. Helen and bump! Yes, I am pleased and excited to confirm that Helen is expecting a little chap in November. Yes, I had to look twice. What a fantastic surprise!

Martha, Helen, Mick, Liam, William, Andrew (leaning back), Pauline and Jenny

A video exists of me walking into the restaurant like I’ve just got out of bed or something, taken by surprise and uttering “What are you doing here?” So embarrassing: thanks, Liam! And sorry, Helen, not the best of welcomes! But I really am pleased to see you!

Pauline, Andrew and I had been pretty busy since their arrival and Andrew decided he needed a down day. So, it was just Pauline who joined me for the regular midweek Thrive Walk. What I didn’t realise at the time was, someone was videoing us enjoying our coffee outside Boxx2Boxx. See if you can spot me and my sister.

After which, we caught a bus to Sale where we met Jenny, Liam, Martha, William and Helen at the King’s Ransom pub, right on the Bridgewater Canal.

King’s Ransom pub and the Bridgewater Canal

We spent another evening round at Jenny’s: mainly because, as Jenny said, their place is bigger than my apartment. And she’s a far better chef than I am.

Pauline and Andrew are now spending some time in Yorkshire and beyond. I drove them to Oxford Road station, only going wrong once.

So, within the space of a couple of days, I swapped a sister and a brother-in-law for a daughter and a future grandson. As Phil Collins once said, “Funny old world, innit?”

I took a leaf out of Andrew’s book and had a down day. Catching up on emails, real mail (just one letter in a week, as it happens), a bit of tidying up, laundry and again, looking at the long list of things to do and then going off to do something totally different.

Meanwhile, how’s Liesel getting on in Anchorage? Working a bit, spending time with friends, and most definitely not commenting on a heatwave. Presidents Trump and Putin had a meeting in Alaska, but this won’t affect Liesel and her Mom at all, unless of course, Trump gives or sells Alaska back to Russia.

Settling in

After arriving in the cold, I thought maybe that was just a hiccup, and that normal service would be resumed the following day. No, sirree. It was still cold, so, reluctantly, I wore a coat for our visit to The 15th Annual Southwest Chocolate and Coffee Fest. The event was very popular, hundreds of stalls, and hundreds of visitors. I’d like to say we tried hundreds of samples, but no, just a few. The pecan and green chilli cookie sounded intriguing. But my small sample was enough to set my tongue on fire and for steam to erupt from my ears.

It wasn’t all chocolate and coffee, lovely though that was. We tried cheese curds, various jams and bread, but not the candy floss. This girl did, though.

On this day, we saw a roadrunner ahea⁰d of us on the road, but the following day, I was quick enough to capture one, photographically speaking. It ran across the road in front of us rather than along the road like the cartoon character, but still, this was our first New Mexican wildlife.

Well, I say ‘wildlife’, but some of the locals do feed these birds. We visited Albuquerque’s Old Town and learned some history of the place. Here, it was the Spanish conquistadors who arrived and changed the way of life of the indigenous peoples. We visited the Romero Street Gallery and enjoyed a wide variety of different art.

To name just three artists, we liked David Schneider’s photographs. He must hang around for hours just to get the perfect lighting, the optimum number of clouds and nothing to distract from the shot. He does no digital editing afterwards, making the large, printed pictures all the more remarkable.

Paul Uhl’s pottery at first sight looks a bit wonkey, but the decoration is superb. One piece in particular appealed to Liesel and me, featuring aspens, which look very similar to silver birches.

Digital art is the forté of Barry Reithmeier. His pictures look very futuristic, recalling the covers of some old 1970s science fiction books.

Why no pictures here? Because we weren’t allowed to take photos in the gallery. You’ll just have to visit yourself, come on in.

Next door, we had one of the best cups of coffee ever. Santa Cecilia is the name of the place, and you can imagine our disappointment a couple of days later when we turned up only to find it was closed.

We walked around the Old Town some more, and it wasn’t long before we came across another animal. Dead, admittedly. And only a small part of the beast. Some shops are decorated with skulls.

Another common sight was chili peoppers hanging up outside many of the shops. There are a lot of chilis in Albuquerque, whether hanging outside to dry, or being sold in shops, or appearing in most meals.

It was Sunday and there was probably a service taking place, so we didn’t explore the church.

This church was built in 1706 and is one of the city’s oldest buildings.

We dined at Monroe’s, Albuquerque’s top(?) Mexican restaurant. The booking was for six, but in the end, Neil didn’t come. It transpires bookings are often made for more people in the party than will actually turn up, because then, everyone gets more space.

On the drive home, I couldn’t help but notice how the clouds look fake. Like a painting of clouds. They look like how clouds used to look in my childhood, fluffy and white, not the solid battleship grey slabs we get in Manchester now.

Note also the mountains over there, covered in snow. Yes, it has snowed quite recently in New Mexico, all around Albuquerque.

Gabe had recommended to me and Liesel that we visit the Rio Grande Nature Center. Yes, the actual Rio Grande flows through the city, and it wasn’t too far to drive to the Nature Center. It was warmer today and the weather forecast looks promising too, getting warmer every day this week. On the drive, we encountered one of the city’s few roundabouts.

It’s heartlifting to see this sign, confirming again that not everyone in America is a magat. Just like the sign in the coffee shop yesterday. There are plenty of decent people around, despite what the news outlets would have us believe. In fact, Gabe attended one of the many ‘Hands Off’ protest rallies across the country.

While expecting to see birds out on the water, we were surprised to see several turtles soaking up the heat of the Sun.

Have you heard of a red-eared Slider turtle before? No, us neither, yet here they are in all their red-eared glory.

We did see some birds as we explored The Bosque, well, a small segment of the 300-mile long forest ecosystem along the valley of the middle Rio Grande in New Mexico that extends from Santa Fe, through Albuquerque and south to El Paso, Texas.

Running roughly parallel to the river is the riverside drain. Which today was dry. Even the great river itself was very low and for a long time, we couldn’t see any flowing water. But then, a glimpse through the bushes.

Liesel and I had planned to do some proper touristy stuff today, and our next destination was the Coronado Historic Site and Kuaua Pueblo, north of Albuquerque. A pleasant drive, and for the first time, it was hot enough for mirages to appear on the long, straight, undulating roads.

We enjoyed our stroll around the old Pueblo, admiring the adobe buildings, basically made from the local mud.

The history of this place was intriguing because, while Coronado was ‘exploring’ Mexico and searching for the seven golden cities, the Tudors were in control in England and yet our school history lessons never mentioned what was going on in the American continent at the same time.

Lunch was taken at Bosque Brewing Company in Bernalillo. I was glad to find this place, because should the opportunity ever present itself, I will be welcome to bring my child bride here.

Our final attraction today was the Petroglyph National Monument. This would entail a long walk, longer than we came prepared for. We’d brought no water with us and it was beginning to warm up nicely. So we decided to return on another occasion.

We returned to Buzz’s place for another filling evening meal, thank you very much, followed by another night, for me at least, of weird and wonderful dreams that I can’t remember.

Mud, mud, glorious mud

We continue to walk around the streets and parks of Americashawe and Northenamerica and along the banks of the River America. Spring is in the air, the crocuses and daffs are adding colour to the bare earth. And we are grateful that America’s new president hasn’t renamed absolutely everything, just Denali and Chalchiuhtlicueyecatl so far, now to be referred to as Mount McKinley and the Gulf of America. If I could be bothered and if the whole thing weren’t so tragic and ridiculous, I’d produce a cartoon series about Donald Trump and the world’s richest man, called Felon and Elon.

Seth Lakeman and his band drove all the way to Buxton where we saw him perform at the Opera House. We recognised most of the songs, although not well enough to sing along, much to Liesel’s delight. She’d booked back row seats, and, as planned, she stood up to dance. It was good to see Leslie tapping her feet and clapping along to the tunes too.

Google Maps took us home along country lanes, rather than the main road, the A6, and that would have been lovely if it hadn’t been so dark and we could have admired the scenery.

This drive was but a rehearsal for the much longer journey the next day. We drove to Sussex, over five hours on the road. I say ‘we drove’, but as is usually the case, Liesel drove the whole way while I tried to stay awake in the passenger seat. It was dark by the time we arrived at our home for the weekend, the Woodlands Cottage within the National Trust property Nymans. In the dark, I had to wrestle with an old, sturdy but rusty padlock on a heavy gate while trying not to slip in the mud on the very wet path.

After a good night’s sleep in the cottage, we were woken by some glorious birdsong, something we don’t hear much of at home. Nothing against our local magpies, but we could do with some variety!

After breakfast, back on the road, this time to Polesden Lacey, another National Trust property. Here we met up with some of Liesel’s old friends and their men from when she worked in Dorking. It was lovely to see Sandra and Fred again after all these years, and I don’t mean just because Sandra gave us some of her delicious, homemade, fridge cake!

The recipe is a secret otherwise I’d be happy to reproduce it here. Suffice to say, chocolate is involved.

I also met Vicky for the first time with her husband Andrew: it was their cottage in the Lake District that we stayed at several years ago. And yes, it would be nice to go back.

After a coffee and a long chat, we all went for a walk in the grounds. It’s not every day you find a turtle in a tree.

I think it was part of a half-term treasure hunt, but it might just as easily been the result of a two-year old’s temper tantrum, I suppose. Our walk wasn’t as long as anticipated: we stopped at the children’s playground where Holly’s son had a great time.

Entertainment was also provided by Clyde, Sandra and Fred’s little Lhasa apso, and a stick.

I’ve never had an organised reunion with a group of former work colleagues like this, but I have kept in touch with a few individuals, mostly online of course, these days.

I think all of the statues were wrapped up for some reason, maybe to protect from the elements, but if that’s the case, why leave them outside? I bet other places don’t wrap up their outdoor art in this way.

After the goodbyes, we returned to our cottage just in time before the heavens opened. The rain was loud that night, and so much of it!

We went for a walk in the woods and the gardens, mostly following the ‘blue route’. There was a lot of mud around and when we got home to Northenden, we scraped most of it off our shoes and sent it back to Sussex.

There were plenty of other folks walking through the woods, and most of them had more suitable footwear such as wellington boots. And we saw a lot of filthy dogs too: I hope they send the mud from their coats back otherwise the tree roots will have nothing to hide under.

Some ducks came out of the lake up onto the path, not bothered by us, nor expecting to be fed by us.

This is probably my favourite tree, mainly because it contains all the vowels.

Last time we went away from home for the weekend, there were floods at home. This time, we missed a big fire in Wythenshawe, just behind the hospital.

(Sorry, I don’t know whose photo that is, but thanks!)

We found a cafe that was packed so we carried on our wander and found a smaller, less packed one. I enjoyed my scone with jam and clotted cream.

Although we were out in the countryside, we didn’t see a lot of wildlife. A few birds and a couple of worms that had strayed onto the path. Even by the cottage, we thought we might hear something moving about outside, especially at night, but no, nothing. But we did come across these beasties on our walk.

As mentioned above, I really didn’t expect to see another sculpture wrapped in plastic, but there were a few here, too.

Maybe it’s a southern English thing.

It was a lovely long walk today, even if a bit muddy in places. I looked at my pedometer to see how far we’d traipsed and, oh no, utter disaster, its battery was dead. All those tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of steps over the last day or so, all gone to waste, not counted, totted up, enumerated nor accounted for. What an absolute tragedy. Liesel thinks I’m obsessed but what am I supposed to do when there is no data to enter into the spreadsheet? The statistics will all be wrong. In protest, I sat down and refused to carry on. Well, I didn’t, but how daft that the thought even occurred to me? Oh well, c’est la vie. I replaced the battery at home the following day, and, correlating the numbers with my previous readings on the spreadsheet, I concluded that the battery must have died sometime while at Polesden Lacey.

We had one more night at the cottage before returning home. There was a TV on the premises and a DVD player which Liesel made good use of: over the weekend, she watched the whole of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, maybe not avidly all the time, but it was on in the background while I read a book and did some puzzles.

On the drive home, we did something we’ve not done for a while. We avoided the M6 Toll Road, saving nearly £10 and only taking five minutes longer to get home, via the original M6.

We picked the children up from school and took them to Bruntwood Park for a short play. A tree had fallen across the path, which we all climbed over, of course. And there was some colour here too.

It wasn’t the warmest Spring day, but I think they had fun in the sandpit, after their ice cream snack.

Liesel made it at home but we enjoyed the corn chowder and garlic bread at the children’s house because we had to make a quick getaway.

Somewhere else we haven’t been for a little while is London’s National Theatre. We didn’t go this week either, but we did see one of their productions on the big screen here at Stockport’s Plaza. We’ve seen The Importance of Being Earnest before, but this performance was very good, very funny, and I’m sure the cast weren’t taking it too seriously, lots of winking at the camera, especially from Ncuti Gatwa, who we know from Doctor Who.

The three of us joined the Thrive Walk in Wythenshawe. There was a long queue for something in the Forum so I thought I’d better join it, it might be for something interesting, Led Zep tickets or something. But no, these people were all interested in a job at Manchester Airport.

We should be able to see a parade of seven planets in the night sky, around now. But there’s just too much light pollution, even when it’s not total cloud cover here. Plus of course, I don’t have any equipment. Still, Venus is always easy to spot.

And as this post comes to an end, let me show you another terrific Northenden sunset.

Going out out

There was a lot of discussion online about how long January was this year. It did seem to go on a bit, didn’t it? Yet here we are now in February and wondering where did January go? One whole aisle in our local Tesco has been taken over by Easter eggs. Soon we’ll be counting down to Christmas again.

Liesel and Leslie enjoy their frequent get-togethers with the WI, for a coffee, in a variety of venues in Didsbury. We all go out for a walk every day. Well, that’s the ideal but there are some days when we don’t quite manage. We’ll keep ourselves entertained at home with TV, radio, books, puzzles, crochet, cooking, eating, washing up, looking out of the windows to see what the neighbours are up to, whingeing about the weather and bemoaming the state of the world.

I felt a little bit sad when I had to relinquish my old driving licence and replace it with a new one. I am approaching a certain age. So I need a new licence. I’m still not sure why: there was no test, I just had to confirm that I can still see where I’m going most of the time.

On the other hand, I didn’t feel sad when I deactivated my 𝕏 account. More a sense of relief and, of course, there’s not much else I can do to get back at Elon Musk. There are a few folks and groups there that I’ll miss, but I’ll catch up with them on another social media site one day. A few days later, Liesel followed suit.

There has been a lot of helicopter noise recently. They’re shoring up the bank of the river Mersey where it collapsed following all the rain last month. The weir should be repaired soon too, hopefully in time for this year’s Northenden Boat Race.

There are some early signs of Spring. A few crocuses are peeking out but more prominent are the snowdrops. So far, at least. Maybe I’m cynical but my memory is that it often gets colder in February and the frosts kill off the early blooms, so they have to start again.

Storm Éowyn did its worst in our local woods. At least a couple of trees succumbed to the gale-force winds, toppled over and blocked the path. A nice, unexpected challenge on what is usually a straightforward, flat, uneventful stroll.

Liesel often says she’d love to wear a purple hi-visibility vest and at last, the opportunity presented itself. Her WI group went litter picking in Didsbury and they provided the perfect uniform.

On a lazy Sunday afternoon, we ventured into Manchester for a concert. But before that, we dined in the Indian Tiffin Room. We’ve always liked this place but we hadn’t been for ages.

We watched the Hallé Orchestra conducted by Roderick Cox performing a relatively new piece, The Insects Become Magnetic, composed by Christopher Cerrone. This was followed by Mozart’s Piano Concerto No 21 and Tchaikowsky’s 4th Symphony, both of which I hummed along to, a bit.

The best day of the week of course was when we brought our grandchildren home from school and got them to sweep our chimney. No, hang on, that’s not right. They made dreamcatchers and we were all impressed with their skill and imagination.

Martha’s is very nearly complete and William’s just needs a few more adornments.

Northenden sometimes treats us to a pretty sunset and we had a couple this week. Such a shame that the foreground is comprised of neighbouring houses rather than rolling hills or fields or something a bit more easy on the eye.

Time for another visit to Bridgewater Hall, this time for a lunchtime violin recital. Music for solo violin is never going to be amongst our favourite musical genres, but Kryštof Kohout is a very talented player. With my eyes closed, it was hard to believe that all that music and those sounds were being produced by one instrument. No humming along on this occasion, as I was unfamiliar with the tunes. And the bonus was, he played a traditional Czech folk song.

The saying is that we do things differently in Manchester. It’s wonderful that the city is being developed, with all those tall glass and steel structures, right? Well, not everyone agrees.

I, for one, would like to see some green spaces in the city centre.

I can’t remember the last time we went out to an event two days in a row, but we did this week. We really enjoyed the comedy night at our local Northenden Social Club.

Charlie Lewis, Harriet Dyer, Ryan Kenny and Rob Rouse

All were a little bit rude, a little bit naughty, but all very funny. I made my one pint of beer last until the first interval.

For the first time in a very long time, I made it out to all three of the Thrive wellbeing walks, negotiating muddy paths through the woods, dodging fallen trees, and rewarding myself with a coffee or a hot chocolate afterwards.

The American Dream

What an eventful week this has been in this here United States of America. Or, as some commentators are saying, the Divided States of America. More on that later.

At home, still in a Halloween frame of mind, Martha and William dressed up appropriately for Saturday morning kick boxing.

They also go swimming on a Saturday morning. I just hope they washed the make-up off before diving in the pool.

Here’s a very Alaskan thing we don’t see very often. Icicles on a car. Not to be confused with the 1980s band of the same name.

Here’s a very Alaskan thing we don’t see very often. A trumper driving around with a trailer carrying nothing but Trumpy, MAGA flags, Take America Back flags and nothing else.

This was the day we visited REI and I bought some new, snowproof, boots. While I went for a walk to test them out, Liesel was working in the office with Amrit. And, I’m sure, not at all looking at the view of the mountains.

As usual, my feet really don’t like boots, there’s always one seam that rubs, in this case on my ankle bones where the skin is really thin. Still, I hiked to the library and on to the midtown branch of New Sagaya where I rewarded myself with a coffee. Despite the snow, it was good to see families with children in the playground. It was cold, about freezing, but nobody was bothered and I was wearing an extra layer plus a scarf and a hat that covered my ears. I picked out the ideal Christmas tree for our apartment at home.

But I must admit, I did enjoy plodding through deep virgin snow with my new footwear, a true test of their waterproof properties.

I walked back to the office and once Liesel finished working, she drove me home. I spontaneously started singing the old Johnny Cash song, Ring of Fire, and then I realised Liesel had turned on my heated seat. Very nice having a warm derriere, even though I hadn’t realised it was all that cold.

We drove home via the Post Office at the airport, where Liesel posted some communications from work. The level crossing lights were flashin, so we stopped and I expeceted to see a train to pass by in front of us. Oh no, this is Alaska.

Leslie returned home from visiting Aaron where she’d enjoyed a football game featuring her team, the Oregon Ducks.

And in the evening we had visitors. Una came over bearing goodies and so did Gita and their close friend Sam, who I’d not met before. Gita provided the hot toddies, making for a very pleasant evening. They prepared a chicken dish for the carnivores while I had Quorn roast and roast potatoes. My broccoli was mistakenly subsumed into the chicken dish, oops!

Una brought chocolates modelled into a small graveyard: very artistic and very tasty.

It’s General Election year here in USA and early voting is a big thing. Liesel, Leslie and I walked up to the City Hall where they queued for over three hours to cast their vote.

By the end of the day, one of the other voters was calling Leslie ‘Granny’, someone was told to remove their MAGA cap, there were three dogs, and someone phoned their grandchild to say they were in line at Disneyland. Mean. The queue wound its way through the building, emerging to the outside world for a bit, before going back indoors.

I went for a quick walk to buy something and then I walked home. It was nice to see The Sun in Anchorage. Not just the real Sun up in the sky, but this one:

The Anchorage Light Speed Planet Walk starts here. It’s a scale model of our solar system. Taking the walk, you experience the relative size of the planets and their distance from the Sun. The scale was chosen so that a leisurely walking pace mimics the speed of light. On this scale, each step equals the distance light travels in one second (300,000 kilometers or 186,000 miles). It should take about 8 minutes to walk from the Sun station at 5th and G to the Earth station at 5th and K, just as it takes 8 minutes for a light beam to travel from the real Sun to the real Earth. It would take 5½ hours to walk all the way to Pluto, located in Kincaid Park. Yes, poor old Pluto is still considered a planet here. Cycling, skate-boarding or skiing would of course mean you’re travelling faster than the speed of light.

I received Liesel’s message at home I walked back into the city where we all met up and had dinner in Humpy’s, next door to the City Hall. I’d not been before, but neither had Liesel, despite having lived in Anchorage for many years. I didn’t expect to eat all of my meal: American portions are just too big. This time, I did manage: veggie burger and chips, since you ask. We were again joined by Una. It was MNF. Monday Night Football on TV and, while the adverts were on, we listened out as someone behind the bar called out raffle prize numbers. Not ours though. Una was kind enough to drive us home afterwards, so we didn’t have to walk in the dark.:

Election Day and while the rest of the country was voting for a President who will work for foreign dictators, fossil fuel advocates and billionaires but not for ordinary Americans, women, journalists, the LGBT+ community, public service workers, immigrants, environmental advocates, scientists etc, guess where I was? In court.

Yes, Una invited me to watch a trial this week, and who could refuse an opportunity to watch a real life Judge Judy in action? From the observers’ seat at the back, I admired the artwork in Una’s courtroom. Two lawyers sat in front of me, standing to question the witnesses. I’ve probably watched too many US TV dramas, so I just assumed the attorney wearing the black suit was the baddie, the one with the light coloured attire was the good guy.

Whenever they approached the bench to consult the judge, it was very hard to hear what they were saying while the courtroom was filled with white noise. I noticed that the jurors didn’t take notes, but a lot of information was elicited from the witnesses. I was here as an interested bystander, so it didn’t matter if my mind wandered from time to time, but Una has to concentrate fully at all times. Although she was sitting higher than everyone else, she still looked small behind the XXL bench, but that didn’t affect the authority she displayed.

I found a couple of moments of real confrontation hard to cope with, but that’s why I’m not a lawyer. And the other awkward moments were when the judge came in and left: as an observer, was I supposed to stand like everyone else did?

The session ended at about 1.30 after which I walked home, passing by a couple of cranes on the way.

Late in the afternoon, we drove back to the airport, this time to collect Jyoti who’d flown in from North Carolina. Back at her place, she prepared our evening meal, dahl and rice, and we were joined by Gita and their friend Sophia. Una and Phil were persuaded to join us too, and we had a good time, not merely because Gita again plied us with hot toddies!

Things are changing in America, and not just politically. In the olden days, maybe even last year, if you said ‘Thank you’, the response would be, ‘You’re welcome.’ Nowadays, the response is more likely to be, ‘Of course.’ And no, it doesn’t sem to be only young people either.

The day after Election Day, we walked back to City Hall to register our disgruntlement at the result. No, actually, we returned so that Leslie could retrieve the walking stick she’d mistakenly left in the polling booth a couple of days ago. It was warmer today, a scorching 4°C so the ice on the sidewalks was more slick than it had been yesterday. I acquired some grips for my shoes, and they are so much better than the cheapo cleats supplied by Royal Mail all those years ago. They actually stay on my trainers.

It was nice of Star the reindeer to come out and see us today: he’s usually in the backroom watching reruns of Friends, or something.

I stayed at home with Leslie while Liesel went out for coffee with Diane, visiting from Talkeetna, and a few more hours hard labour in the office with Amrit.

I think I know who my Dad would have voted for on what would have been his 99th birthday, if he were still alive and if he were American.

Croeso i Gymru! Part 2

Before setting off in a westward direction, we thought we’d explore the area around Mermaid Quay in Cardiff. We were delighted to see a postage stamp size area of blue sky, but definitely not yet enough to make a pair of sailor’s trousers. But it expanded and we were blessed with a beautiful, sunny and later on, warm day.

Cardiff Bay looked more appealing today: well, we didn’t have to view it through mist. There was a group of male singers to entertain us down on the dock, deliberately performing songs that I couldn’t sing along to. We passed by a guided tour group, and briefly thought about joining, but I think we would have been hampered by the Welsh narration.

We spotted some TV cameras near the Welsh Parliament building, and assumed that wasn’t unusual. Well, today was the day Vaughan Gething resigned as First Minister so there was a lot of coverage on TV. Later in the evening, we failed to spot ourselves wandering around in the background of news reports.

We’re invited to hold the torch and make a wish for peace. Cardiff Bay is historically one of the first multicultural ports in Britain. Many people from across the seas of the world have come here, bringing with them their cultures and histories, their hopes and dreams. Cardiff welcomed them and now welcomes YOU.

Well, thank you very much, we did indeed feel very welcome here in Cardiff.

This memorial commemorates the Heroic Age of Antarctic exploration and in particular Captain Robert Falcon Scott’s Scientific Expedition of 1910-13. The memorial overlooks the point from which Scott’s expedition ship, the SS Terra Nova, left Cardiff on the 15th June 1910.

The memorial overlooks the point from which Scott’s expedition ship, the SS Terra Nova, left Cardiff on the 15th June 1910.

Designed and created by the sculptor Jonathan Williams, the memorial depicts Scott and the faces of his four companions, Wilson, Oates, Bowers and Evans, who died with him on the return journey from the South Pole.

Torchwood‘s HQ is accessible by a secret lift secretly accessible via a paving stone next to the water tower in Roald Dahl Plass plaza. I never knew Roald Dahl was born in Cardiff. So of course, we had to visit the water tower along with many other visitors, fans, pilgrims even.

Barry Island is the setting for another TV series, Gavin and Stacey and as we drove past a road sign pointing in that direction, we thought, why not? It’s not really an island any more, not since the 1880s, but that fact doesn’t detract from the fun we had here in the resort. And the Barryians(?) are very proud of Gavin and Stacey.

Liesel and Leslie had an ice cream but I chose to have that most Welsh of delicacies, a cheese and onion pastie. And we walked the length of the beach along the promenade. The funfair attractions weren’t in operation, so there was no debate about whether or not to have a go on any of the rides.

Nor did we have a go on the climbing wall, but we know Martha and William would love this.

The beach looked very inviting and by now, it was very warm. I’m sure it will be chocker once schools have broken up for the Summer holiday. Today, though, we just came across groups of children from three different schools, and they were all very well behaved.

I do like shop names that are good puns, and to see two so close together in one location, well, it made my day.

I think after our relatively long walk, we could have relaxed here in Barry all afternoon, but we had a bit of a journey ahead of us. Liesel drove us to our next port of call, in Haverfordwest, and I was surprised that our route included a bit more of the M4. We stopped just one more time en route. Our b&b was above a now non-operating launderette and after unloading the car, we had to park a bit further along the road.

We had a wander around town. Let’s just say, it was challenging being incredibly hilly. Again, it reminded us just how flat Northenden is!

There seems to have been an outbreak of yarn-bombing here in Haverfordwest. Many lampposts, fences, pillar boxes, bollards, trees brightly and brilliantly decorated.

And after walking up a long, steep hill back to our b&b, we were all hot and sweaty. Liesel did some work on her laptop and even had a chat with her boss, Amrit. No, of course I wasn’t in the background heckling…

After a rubbish night’s sleep, we drove to St David’s, the main reason for visiting Pembrokeshire at all, really. We explored the cathedral, and the lady who welcomed us there was repeating ‘no entry fee but donations are always welcome’ in such a way that we couldn’t not make a donation.

I admired the organ but I wasn’t allowed to have a go. I just wanted to hear the 32-foot long pipes making a very low note.

We loved eating a pile of Welshcakes for lunch thanks to Mamgu’s little place right next to the Cathedral.

We drove the short distance to St Justinian’s, the idea being to walk along a short segment of the Welsh and Pembrokeshire Coast Path. The views over the sea were of course spectacular and I’m sure some of the many islands we saw don’t even have names.

We found the path and followed it for a mile or so. Two of the reasons I enjoyed this hike were that I never once felt short of breath, my intermittent but chronic and annoying condition, plus, even though we were at times close to the edge of high cliffs, I didn’t have sweaty palms. And I even get sweaty palms even when I see certain views on TV. By now it really was a hot, sunny day, no sign of rain at all.

This lifeboat launched at some point while we out on the path, having walking around a couple of headlands, so we didn’t see nor hear it go out to sea.

We passed many other hikers, and their dogs, on the path and I’m sure some of them were walking a long distance. But I am glad I wasn’t wearing a backpack as heavy as some of theirs looked.

The Pembroke Coast Path is 186 miles in length while the Wales Coast Path is 870 miles in total. Today, I think we managed a bit over a mile before turning round and walking back. Still, it’s a start, maybe 0.11% of the whole.

Another night’s, let’s say, challenging sleep, up in the attic of our b&b above the erstwhile launderette. The place was lovely and comfortable, in a quiet(-ish) area. I say (-ish) because we did hear people walking by and talking late at night, and then we heard the refuse collectors in the morning.

Liesel was still working so I went for a solo jaunt around town. Of course, I smiled at the newly enhanced church gates as I walked by.

And the stone-built houses are very attractive. I wonder if they keep warm and cosy, or are they old and cold and draughty?

‘Seen one river, seen ’em all.’ Well, maybe, but it’s always good to walk beside a waterway for a while. And I’m glad I did because I came across a very good guitar player on the bridge.

Busker, or not? He wasn’t expecting cash from passers-by for his entertainment, he was just promoting his guitar lessons.

And if you haven’t yet been convinced of just how steep some of the roads are in theis lovely town, this is a good example.

It must be great living here, with gorgeous views over the countryside, but I wouldn’t want to have to carry too much shopping up that slope every day.

Today’s excursion took us to Pembroke Castle. And, following our experience with Dyffryn Gardens a few days ago, I double, triple and quadruple checked that I had set Google Maps to take us to the actual, real Pembroke Castle, in Pembroke, and not, say, a pub in Yorkshire named The Pembroke Castle.

We could have hired boats and rowed around the moat, but we didn’t need to risk any interaction with the swans. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking with it. Instead, we walked up the hill from the car park and wandered around the castle, not joining the official guided tour on this occasion. There’s a lot of history here, including some familiar and a few unfamiliar characters, some familiar historical events and some new to me. Ask me to tell you about the history of Pembroke, Wales, England, the kings, the wars, the battles, and I don’t think I’d be able to give you a coherent story.

Many battles have been fought in this castle and beyond, of course, not forgetting numerous invasions fought off with skilful swordsmen and archers and so on. But the main deterrent to any future incursions must surely be this, the simplest of obstacles.

We climbed a few of the towers, and I was pleased to see that from such high vantage points, you could look down on the whole of Wales.

After lunch in the large courtyard, we bade farewell to the fish in the moat and made our way back to the car.

Our downstairs neighbour at home had recommended a beach in Pembrokeshire, and now was our chance to visit as it’s not too far from Pembroke.

Barafundle Bay is a 20-minute walk from the car park, but the trek is well worth the time and effort. And it’s not until you’re right above the beach that you see it.

The sign said: You may be on your way to the beach for some sunshine, but Wales has been heading north for hundreds of millions of years. The rocks here tell the story of its incredible journey. And don’t worry – we still get plenty of sunshine!

The only sounds we heard were the wind whistling and the sea crashing on ricks below. And even the few sea birds were having a sponsored silence day.

Another thought crossed my mind today, too. The seaside doesn’t smell like the seaside any more, not the same as it did when we were young children. That odd mix of the sea, ozone, fish and chips maybe, it’s just not there any more. Barafundle was no different. Maybe there are just too many other chemical pollutants in the atmosphere.

We sat on the beach for a while watching the water and the people. We should have brought a picnic. And a blanket to sit on: that would have been more comfortable that the scratchy marram(?) grass we plonked ourselves down on. Oh well, we’ll plan better next time.

I walked up and down the beach, spotting only two jellyfish just above the water line. It was approaching high tide, so I suspect the young girl trying to rescue the jellyfish was wasting her time. I’m sure there are days when the beach is much more crowded. Under these circumstances, it must be hard to find your family and friends if you become separated. But they’ve thought of everything here. In the middle of the beach, there is a prominent meeting point in the form of an old, dead tree trunk.

We returned to the car, and back to our place in Haverfordwest. Being our final night here, our evening meal was mainly finishing stuff off. No need to take food back home with us.

In the morning, Liesel and I again discussed our rotten night’s sleep. But, you see, neither of us have slept on a water bed before so it’s been a bit of an adventure. Every time one of us moved, so did the other. It got to the point where we had to issue tsunami warnings whenever we needed to roll over. Or even scratch an itch. So altogether now, to the tune of Split Enz’s Six Months in a Leaky Boat: 🎶 Three Nights in a Water Bed… 🎶 Even climbing on and off was difficult. Why was it so bouncy, we wondered? Because they filled it with spring water, said Liesel.

After packing in the morning, we set the controls for a 5-hour drive home. A long journey, yes, but uneventful. We passed through a town called Bethlehem. And we passed by several opportunities to buy produce. The range eggs were free, but we didn’t stop. We could also have bought potatoes (Pembrokeshire potatoes are the best), straw, fish and chips, oil paintings, interlocking concrete blocks, budgies and more eggs.

The nice open, empty roads gave us beautiful views of the Welsh hills and valleys. Until we gained some altitude, and then we were almost in the clouds.

We stopped for lunch at a great place, Dolwen Valley Café. Liesel and Leslie’s first choice was fish and chips, but they had no fish left. My first choice was the vegan burger, but they’d run out. But, it was a great place, and the staff, well, she was very friendly enough and the coffee was good too. And I had exactly the right amount of chips and salad to keep me going for the rest of the day.

Welcome to England, said the sign, as we entered Shropshire. Seeing raod signs in only one language now seems weird. Shrewsbury was within a short distance, a place where Liesel once fell off her bike, an incident that she’s still trying to blame me for!

This visit to England was short lived, as we found ourselves back over the border, approaching and then bypassing Wrexham. The second time we entered England, there wasn’t even a welcome sign, just a small embarrassed sign telling us this was Cheshire.

Back at home, we unloaded the car, unpacked, and opened our mail box. Guess how many letters were delivered by Royal Mail while we were away for a week? That’s right: zero. Just the way we like it.

And I can’t tell you how much we loved being back in our own bed. So comfortable, relaxing, and… stable. A good night’s sleep was much appreciated by us both.

Good News Week

Well, the big news this week was of course the UK General Election. No spoilers here, but I will say more about it later.

The other big event was Martha and William’s school Summer Fair. It was a typical Summer’s day, blue skies, scorching sunshine, the stench of sunblock fighting the stink of burnt offerings from the barbecue.

We met up with the other grandparents, Alan and Una, and we all enjoyed the perfomance of Matilda indoors, starring the one and only Martha. As she and the others sang, sometimes you have to be a little bit naughty.

I mentioned the barbecue, and the best thing on offer there were the homemade samosas: I think we all indulged. Plenty of fun at all the stalls, although I did forget to buy a raffle ticket before we left.

Liesel needs a new computer so on the way home, we visited John Lewis where we had a look at the current generation of laptops. Lots of info from a very helpful sales assistant but as usual, almost too much information to process. So, for now, Liesel continues to work on a laptop that is the same age as Martha, and that sounds like it’s about to take flight with its Rolls Royce aero engine.

This was also the weekend of the Glastonbury Festival. We didn’t go, but we watched some of the performances on TV, such as Coldplay and Idles, Shania Twain, Cyndi Lauper, Dua Lipa, Avril Lavigne and Paloma Faith. Guess whch two of these artistes Liesel and I have seen performing on stage? No prizes, just for fun. I was disappointed that Frankie Archer’s set on the Acoustic Stage wasn’t shown in full, not even online. I should demand a refund on my TV licence.

This was also the weekend that the Tour de France started, so we’ve been watching that on TV this week. We didn’t expect to see Sir Mark Cavendish at the Tour again, yet here he is, hoping to win a 35th TdF stage and beat the 34 stage wins of Eddie Merckx, a record held since 1977. And he did, at the end of a very exciting, fast day’s racing.

We joined the family for a meal at Gusto late in the afternoon: I think William wanted to be home in time to watch England’s football team play in their next game in the Euros.

Fletcher Moss was the destination for our only organised walk this week. It was a big group, nearly 30 people, and amongst all the Himalayan balsam was some delightful bindweed, with pink rather than white flowers. As rare as a four-leaf clover, apparently.

Afterwards I continued walking into Didsbury where I had some errands to run, while Liesel went to the pub with some of the others. A fair distribution of labour, I feel.

A visit to Quarry Bank resulted in another very enjoyable jaunt through the woods. We were blown away by the number of hydrangeas in bloom here.

In fact, there was a lot of colour, thanks to the poppies, dandelions, marigolds and there was plenty of produce in the kitchen garden. We took the volunteers up on their offer and took home some rhubarb.

The regular Thrive Manchester walks were cancelled this week due to illness (get well soon!) so Liesel, Leslie and I went for a walk along the river instead.

It wasn’t that warm, there was hardly any wind, so ideal conditions for insects to be flying about, but we encountered hardly any at all, which is very sad.

And so we come to July 4th, Election Day, the day we’ve been waiting for for over four years. For the first time, I had to take ID so that I’d be allowed to cast my vote. I took three forms of ID, just to be on the safe side. But the clerk hardly looked at mine. Probably because of my totally honest looking physiognomy.

I was accompanied by Liesel and her Mom, who I think appreciated the short stroll. I came back the long way, via Rose Hill Woods, where I’ve not been for a long time. I’d forgotten that when you emerge from these woods on the other side, there’s a golf course. I wasn’t wearing a hard hat, but I wasn’t bothered by low-flying golf balls.

Liesel and Leslie went to bed and I set myself up for a long night in front of the TV. I don’t think I’ve stayed up all night to watch election results since 1997. But I thought history might be made tonight.

The exit polls at 10pm looked good, and as the night progressed and the results came in, I cheered silently. Those of you who know me personally will know that I’m not the biggest drinker in the world. In fact, until tonight, I’d only consumed one beer since I returned home from Anchorage. But tonight, well, I marked the occasion in style.

By the time I retired to bed at 6.50am, I had collected plenty of glassware for the recycling bin. We have a Labour majority in the House of Commons, some prominent Tories have lost their seats, and things are looking up again. While watching so much politicking on TV, mostly Channel 4, but also dipping into BBC, ITV and Sky, I realised just how many dinosaurs there are still in positions of influence, and relatively few young, inspiring politicians there are. The best couple of minutes was watching Carol Vorderman not holding back her opinion on the last fourteen years of “corruption and lies and gaslighting.” And now, a couple of days later, our new Prime Minister Keir Starmer has dared to appoint actual experts to his Cabinet, people who know about the ministries and departments that they’re now responsible for. What a novel idea! So, let’s hope to see some real changes soon.

Whinges of the week: (1) When you’re wasting time on Instagram watching loads of stoopid little videos, and then you click on the option that says ‘I’m not interested in this crap’, why does it then give you the option of watching it again? (2) When I have occasion to put a plaster on my fingertip, my phone can no longer recognise my fingerprint. The phone’s not that smart, after all.

Did you guess? Liesel and I saw Shania Twain perform one year in Hyde Park as part of Radio 2’s Festival in a Day. She’s just recovered from Lyme Disease. And we saw Paloma Faith in 2010, one of the guests in Rob Brydon’s TV chat show. It was the first show to be recorded, but not broadcast for a few weeks. Other guests on the show were Ronnie Corbett and Lucy Porter. It seems a long time ago now.

Orange to Coonabarabran

We woke up and, given the recent weather conditions, we actually paid attention to the local news. There are over a hundred flood warnings in the Sydney suburbs and beyond. Of particular interest to us was the news that people living in the low-lying areas around Narrabeen Lagoon have been told to evacuate.

We had a most enjoyable walk around the lagoon just over a week ago. One of the flats in Helen’s block flooded too, but we don’t know whether rain came in through an open window or water entered in some other way. Luckily, Helen had been home and closed all her own windows. Annoyingly, the new cover for her garden furniture wasn’t totally waterproof: at least one of the cushions is totally saturated. Plus, Helen had to drive through inches of flood water to drive away from Brent’s place in the morning. I know we’ve complained a lot about all that rain, but at least we haven’t been directly affected by flooding.

Here in Orange, the rain stopped overnight and we drove to Mount Canobolas for the view. Well, high up, we were again basically in a big cloud. We didn’t see much. But we did read a very sad folk tale which I committed to memory. The phone’s memory, that is.

So back down the mountain we went, to Lake Canobolas. Which is dammed at one end and leaking slightly. I think that’s the technical term.

We started to walk around the lake, and after checking that the path did indeed go all the way round, we enjoyed completing the circuit. Not the most exciting specimen, I know, but it was interesting to see grubs nearly as big as our feet. I wonder what they will eventually metamorphose into? In any case, we decided this would not be dinner.

The Molong Creek feeds the lake, and it was one of the places at risk of flooding higher up towards its source, and that might have affected our route choice in the next couple of days. In the end, there was no such issue for us. Just as there was no problem crossing the bridge here.

There was some birdlife on the lake, a few coots and ducks, plus a pair of herons way over there on an island. There must have been fish too, we passed a small group of anglers.

From the café, we bought coffee to take away with us. And I noticed again that some places, on Sundays and bank holidays, add a 10 or 15% surcharge to their prices. I always think, that’s alright as long as the actual workers reap the benefit. And it seems they do: at one place last week, the staff member said she was working for double pay that day, so, fair enough.

Helen had taken us to Heifer Station Wines a few years ago and, having had our wine-tasting appetites whetted last week, we thought we’d pay a return visit taking Leslie too. We arrived and were seated at a high bar table and over the next hour, we sampled six wines accompanied by a cheese platter. And yes, we did buy a couple of bottles to take away.

To me, it’s either white or red wine, with or without bubbles. But when you can compare similar wines, you can see they’re a very slightly different colour. And both very gentle on the palate. “Not just a shiraz, but a sexy one. This wine displays a real elegance of how shiraz thrives in a cool climate. Abundant pepper fills the nose A complex amalgum of plum, blackberry and graphite spice fill the palate. Some leafy herb & black olive underpin the black currant and blackberry fruit characters. A soft texture and a plentiful palate, make this a Heifer Station favourite.” I told our host that I just can’t smell all the different components listed in the blurb. He said he can’t either, but then he’d broken his nose three times playing rugby. I don’t have that excuse, mainly because I’m too much of a wimp to play rugby. Actually, it was never an option at my school, so we’ll never really know.

I had a quick wander outside, to see the various animals on the property: bulls, Berkshire pigs, a tiny pony, a Boer goat and some things labelled Highland cattle, but they really weren’t.

The vines are a bit sparse because the grapes were harvested a bit earlier than usual this year, thanks ultimately to climate change.

As we were leaving, we noticed a rainbow and that seemed a suitable end to the proceedings. But what else could we do today? Well, it’s cleared up a lot, so let’s go back to Mount Canobolas, we might see some kangaroos. We didn’t, but it was much more interesting at the top, we could see clearly, now the rain had gone.

Let’s go back to Lake Canobolas, we might see some kangaroos. No, of course we didn’t. But I did enjoy watching a lapwing at the now closed café rifling through some flyers in a box on the counter, as if he was looking for something. Maybe in his real world, he finds insects or something between layers of bark.

We got an Indian takeaway from a place recommended by Helen but of course we bought too much food. It was good though.

After a meh night’s sleep, Liesel and Mom went shopping while I ate breakfast, finished packing, tidied up a bit and put the rubbish out. It was time to move on: destination Dubbo Zoo. I also checked one more time that no flood warnings would affect us.

Driving towards Dubbo took us through a weird portal in time.

Not only did we pass this 1950s Hillman Minx, we also encountered a 1950s Ford Mainline ute. And later on, along the road, several more really old cars. Some weren’t going anywhere, being now largely comprised of rust, but there must be a lot of fans of ancient automobiles in this area, in and around Molong.

We saw plenty of cattle, sheep, horses and even llamas in fields by the road, but despite our best efforts, not a single kangaroo nor wallaby. Leslie is beginning to think these creatures are fictional, like fairies and decent politicians.

We passed through Wellington without feeling the need to stop. Not as exciting as New Zealand’s capital city, of course. But we did stop in Geurie and I am grateful that at no time did I have to pronounce this placename.

Leslie opted for a can of Coke while Liesel and I chose a coffee milkshake. The coffee shop was also the town’s supermarket and post office. We were both amazed at the size of the milkshakes, they were huge. And, as a special treat today, they gave us plastic straws: take that, eco-warriors.

I wasn’t quick enough to take a picture of the blue tree that stood alone in the middle of a field. Somewhere north of Geurie and west of the A32, if you want to seek it out.

We arrived at Dubbo Zoo, also known as Taronga Western Plains Zoo, at about 12.30. And what a pleasant day for a walk. For a while, we were just ahead of the truck transporting keepers and food, so that as we approached the various compounds, the animals walked towards us. As I said to Leslie, this was great, I’ve already got many photos of animals’ backsides.

Some animals were hiding of course, we didn’t see the cheetahs nor the lions. But we did go back in time again, witnessing three World War 2 planes flying over us in formation.

We sat and watched this elephant for quite a long time, waiting for him to either fall or dive into the water. He came close, but stayed dry.

I had a mediocre sandwich for lunch. It was so bad, that it fell out of its packet onto the floor. The staff tried not to laugh as they replaced it. Liesel had a so-so cheese and ham croissant.

Soon after setting off for the second half of our walk, Leslie spotted a kangaroo. Hooray! A real one, just munching on grass, minding its own beeswax. And, it wasn’t a guest of the zoo, but a wild one chancing its arm.

Leslie was in some discomfort, so we took several shortcuts back to the car. We decided we can catch up with the rest of the inmates tomorrow. Yes, a second day at the zoo, because we are staying here for one night, in one of the Savannah Cabins.

From our cabin, you can see giraffes and rhinos in the distance, and we kicked ourselves for not bringing binoculars. After a cup of tea, I went for a walk to see if I could get significantly closer. No. But I did see some mushrooms growing. Yes, mushrooms. And I did see a few ant hills. Well, to be honest, I’m a prat and I was wearing sandals so I felt the ants first, before seeing them. About a hundred million billion all running around passing on news about Mick’s foot being very tasty.

One small section of a huge ant community

There are signs warning us of the presence of snakes too. Needless to say, I stayed on the path and stomped to let them know I was coming. Maybe I stomped in the wrong place, and that’s what upset the ants.

On the way in to Savannah Gardens, we’d seen signs telling us to watch out for kangaroos. Did we see any here? No. But I did see evidence in the form of foot prints on the path. The Sun set very quickly, so plans to eat outside were abandoned. Dinner was leftovers from last night’s Indian takeaway. Thank goodness our cabin had a microwave.

Leslie washed the dishes and then joined Liesel and me in the sitting area. Suddenly, “What’s that? Is it a cockroach?” yelled Leslie. There was indeed a large bug running across the floorboards. But not a cockroach. I was torn between trying to take its picture for later identification and just getting rid of it. I opted for the latter. So I opened the screen door, you know, the mesh one that lets fresh air in but keeps mosquitoes out. As soon as the door opened, a gigantic moth flew in. I don’t think I screamed, but the other two did. Now, I had two beasties to deal with. The long but fast thing on the floor stopped moving for a moment, so I picked it up as gently as I could with a sheet of kitchen paper and chucked the whole package outside. Reader: it wriggled in my fingers. Looking it up later, I think it was a Lord Howe Island stick insect or something like that. Now, just the giant moth to deal with. I noticed Liesel was sitting on the back of the sofa with her feet well off the ground. The moth settled, I took its picture, then encouraged it to walk onto a piece of card which made releasing it into the outside world easy. It kept coming back though, knocking at the mesh.

I know we’re staying at the zoo for the night, but having the wildlife move in with us wasn’t part of the deal. As the evening wore on, the noise from outside became louder as insects, frogs, birds and others all started talking to each other: clicks, chirrups, stridulation and crepitation. And, at some point in the middle of the night, I heard a cuckoo. Or something mimicking a cuckoo.

In the morning, I realised we’d been under supervision all night.

On the second day at the zoo, we decided to drive round, and just walk the shorter distances to see some animals that we’d missed yesterday. But they weren’t all cooperating. The hippos stayed well back and they definitely weren’t pooping and rotating their propellor-like tails, something that Liesel particularly wanted to show her Mom, for some reason.

There was supposed to be a keeper giving a talk about the hippos, but that didn’t happen either. The elephant continued to walk around and play near the pool, but he didn’t bother going for a dip. And the cheetahs too were visible, yes, but right at the back of their compound, pacing up and down rather than running at 70 mph as advertised.

It’s probably not fair to have favourites, but I did feel a bit sorry for the one-horned rhino. Maybe he just doesn’t like people, but his enclodure was totally surrounded by grass matting, with small windows for us to peep through.

I told Liesel his name was Neil: Rhino Neil.

Along the path a bit, it was really the otters we’d come to see, specifically, small-clawed otters. By luck, we arrived at feeding time, and the three otters knew it. As the hour approached, they became more and more active. Moreso when the keeper arrived. And really excited when she tossed bits of fish over the glass into their pond.

One came up really close, and I told Lesel his name was Small-Clawed van Damme.

We all wanted to visit the Australia section today since we’d missed out yesterday. We saw koalas way up in the trees, very hard to spot them, so we’re grateful to the bloke who pointed them out.

Underneath us, we enjoyed seeing a pair of quokkas eating.

We could tick wallabies off the list, but not the echidna. In Lion Pride Lands, we saw a cub with his mother, soaking up the Sun.

As a snack, Liesel and I consumed a whole bag of crisps leading up to lunchtime. But, since there was nothing appealing at the café, we just had an ice cream. Crisps and ice cream, a fully balanced diet. Fellow diners included numerous ibises plus this very attractive, colourful bananabird.

After the zoo, it was time once again to set off for a long two-hour drive. Destination: Coonabarabran, the astronomical capital of Australia. It was fascinating to see how densely the trees grew in some areas, and then empty fields here and there. It was a long, straight road, with very few inhabitants. It might have been bin day as we passed a wheelie bin every few kilometres.

We saw very little traffic so of course whenever two cars passed close together in the opposite direction, we compared it with Piccadilly Circus.

Just before Coona, as the locals call it, we passed a big model of Saturn by the side of the road. And then, having passed through the town on the road to our final destination, we passed by a big Jupiter. Not as big as the real one, obviously.

Mark and Wendy met us at the gates of Dark Sky Eco Resort. We were staying here in one of two lodges and by the time we arrived, Helen and Brent had already settled in.

This is a 100% off grid facility with all sustainable practices. Modern facility amenities and Starlink internet connectivity. There are emus and with a bit of luck, really clear skies.

After dinner, we spent some time outside acquainting ourselves with the dark sky. Some things were easy to identify, including the milky way and the Large Magellanic Cloud, Orion and Sirius and the Southern Cross. Other stars were hard to identify because there were so many of them. The first picture I took with my phone was a dud. The second one really surprised me.

Other photos are ok, but the phone was sitting on a chair, on a wooden boardwalk, on which we were all walking. The field of view is identifiable, but there was just a bit too much camera shake.

Plus, and I didn’t realise this at the time, the noises emanating from the emus, the grunts and deep, thumping booming notes also cause vibrations in the ground. I tried recording their sounds, but I don’t think my phone’s microphone is good with such low frequencies.

And with all the lights out in the lodge at the end of the day, I think this is one of the darkest places I’ve ever been, away from the depths of an old coalmine when they turned the lights off that day. And even though we heard emus and other noctural animals on and off, I think we had a good night’s sleep.

Over in America, Martha was celebrating her 8th birthday in style, sight-seeing in New York, consuming at least two birthday cakes, waffles for breakfast and pizza, and you know what American portion sizes are like in restaurants: huge.

It was the day of the Solar Eclipse too, which Martha and William and their parents viewed from somewhere near Niagara Falls.

Unfortunately, it was cloudy so the full glory of the eclipse was lost, but this is Liam’s best picture.

There’s only one thing for it: find out when and where the next total eclipse is, and go!

Books, Bats and Bikes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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