family – Page 3 – Mick and Liesel's Antics

Here Comes the Sun

While in Whitby, we lost track of progess in the Tour de France, but just like Tadej Pogačar, it didn’t take us long to catch up. Another day, another hospital appointment for me. This one wasn’t very nice. Oh look, here’s Mick, let’s find another orifice and stick a camera in it. But all the medics I’ve seen have been really nice. All the nurses, doctors, consultants, registrars, receptionists, radiographers, all of them have asked me for my date of birth and and my address. So I’m expecting lots of cards for my next birthday.

Usually when we drive over to collect the children from school, we have to allow for a traffic jam in Gatley. But this week for some reason, there was no serious hold-up. So, for the first time ever, we were the first to arrive. We’ve never seen the playground empty before, so that’s a result.

Yes, it’s wet, it had been raining. Later, back at home, William made a bracelet for his teacher: thank goodness we still have the right combination of letter beads. He and I played hangman and Martha beat Liesel at backgammon. William went downstairs and outside to greet his parents. The trouble is, they hadn’t yet arrived. And he let the back door close behind him. So, we tried not to laugh as William, locked out, in the communal car park, called for help. Don’t worry, we rescued him quickly. Mummy and Daddy arrived soon after and we dined nicely, thank you Liesel.

The house round the corner is proud to have sunflowers once again. They seemed to be growing slowly but suddenly, over night it seems, they’re six feet tall.

Later in the week, we returned to the school to watch Martha star in a production of Beauty and the Beast. The children all did very well, but we thought the backing tracks could have been a bit quieter so that we could hear the performers singing more clearly. Glad to say, Martha sorted out her barnet after Crazy Hair Day.

The choreography was well executed, and it’s a shame there are no boys in this particular drama group. I’m glad Martha enjoys performing though, not like her old Grandad.

Beauty and the Beast cast, featuring Martha

The other grandparents enjoyed the performance too, and afterwards, we all went to the Red Lion in Cheadle for our evening meal, all nine of us. My cheese and onion pie had actual cheese and onions as a filling, so much better than the gloop in the pies from the chippy up the road from us.

Liesel, Leslie and I went for a walk to the Co-op, via the river and the weir. On the island, a shag or a cormorant was playing with me. He’d had his wings out to dry, and every time I thought about taking a picture, he’d put them down again. I’ll make a video then, and screendump one of its frames. It knew, it knew. It did not cooperate. Instead, it decided to fly off somewhere, probably to tease other potential photographers.

Liesel planned to take her Mom out for a regular coffee with the ladies of the WI. I was surprised to see them back so soon. The car had a puncture. A mechanic turned up, changed the tyre, and was gone within about 15 minutes. Last time I changed a tyre, it took over an hour and a half. But he had much better equipment than I have, plus the necessary skills.

Changing the subject, we’re looking forward to seeing the total solar eclipse in a few years, maybe back in Coonabarabran.

Apart from anything else, this will be a good opportunity to see Mercury, which I’m not sure I’ve ever observed in real life.

Yes, sometimes I have too much time on my hands, so I mess about with apps on my phone, specifically Stellarium in this case.

Another hospital appointment, more birthday greetings coming my way. I had to bring my travel insurance company up to date with all my various medical issues. Of couse, that increased the premium. I paid an extra £22 which includes a £15 admin fee. I suspect that if things had gone the other way, they could have given me a bit of rebate. But I’d still be liable for the admin fee. What a rip-off. Anyway, now that’s sorted at last, I can make plans to travel.

Martha has recently started synchronised swimming lessons, so we went to observe her. Her skills in the water are amazing. She has achieved her 100-metre freestyle badge. My best was 25 yards, at about the same age.

Express Solicitors, a local firm, have been sponsoring our walks on a Wednesday for the last year. To mark the occasion, Simon came along with a videographer and he spoke to a few of us. Here is the resulting video. Well, it keeps us out of trouble.

I haven’t mentioned the weather. It’s been alright, a lovely temperature for walking, sometimes a light, refreshing breeze. But we’re in for another heatwave soon.

Tour de Everyday Life

Bury Market was the venue for a grand WI day out. Liesel and Leslie had a good time, and they even came back with a famous Bury vegetarian black pudding, ideal for carb-loading before the next stage. I haven’t been to Bury since about 1976 when, on a day trip into Manchester, I lost my wallet. It was eventually found and returned by the police, but I’ve never used a proper wallet since then, preferring saddle-bags, whenever possible.

But I got to thinking: something you don’t see much of these days is celebrities with fried eggs on their collarbones. I wonder why?

Gulliver’s World Warrington was visited by our grandchildren and their parents, and they had a lot of fun. Does it compare with Disneyworld though? Well, Martha climbed her own Mont Ventoux, defying gravity.

Australia’s Hunter Valley was the venue for a weekend away for Helen and Brent and their team-mates. They had a good time too, despite the recent flooding.

Jacqui, Rob, Nat, Helen, Brent and a little one making a break for it

New Zealand was the destination for our newly-weds, nephew Rob and Cristy, all the way from Canada. Congratulations again! And indeed, châpeau!

Meanwhile, I was just freewheeling along, enjoying other people’s adventures and antics vicariously. Still fighting eBay and Freegle trying to get rid of stuff. Still cranking out the miles on foot around Northenden and beyond. Still attending more medical appointments than having hot carb-loaded dinners.

Summer arrived in style. We had a couple of heatwaves, just a few days when the temperature approached 30°, and of course, this made falling asleep harder than riding up Alpe d’Huez with a single-gear. So I reversed the polarity on our electric blankets so that, instead of warmth, they provided a nice cool sheet to lie on.

While Liesel joined the breakaway on an alternative walk with a different group of ladies, Leslie and I joined the usual Friday route which, in the end, was an even shorter stroll than usual. Due to intimidation by a peloton, a veritable herd of geese, we didn’t walk around the lake: we took a shortcut. And, yes, I do mean ‘herd’. This was not a small, harmless flock or gaggle of geese.

Over the weekend, we enjoyed some of the acts (I wonder what their riders were?) from Glastonbury and I think I am unanimous in thinking Pulp deserved the yellow jersey. I don’t know why some artists were so hard to find on the BBC iPlayer: the routemap was very badly marshalled.

The highlight of the weekend though was Martha and William’s school’s Summer Fair. We helped out of the raffle ticket stall. At one point, I gave William a fiver, asked him to fetch me a cup of tea from the feed station, and then he could keep the change. Quick as a flash, he retorted, “I’ll keep it all, then”. That’s my boy! In the end, there were no hot drinks available so I made do with a bidon, a bottle of water, in one gulp.

What a beautiful day and, to keep cool, a couple of teachers volunteered to be the target for wet sponges hurled by their pupils.

From the podium, Martha and her dramatic arts group put on a performance of songs from such musicals as Matilda and Beauty and the Beast.

You can drive around your neighbourhood many times and still see things you’ve not noticed before. I’m not sure whether this message is new, but Royal Mail as a business needs all the help it can get, right now.

As if the Glastonbury Festival didn’t have enough competition, this was also the weekend of the monthly Didsbury Makers Market. So, after bashing Himalayan balsam in Fletcher Moss Garden, with the WI, and without falling into the water, Liesel and Leslie made their way there. I joined them a bit later and was greeted with a piping hot samosa.

As we walked back to the car, we passed another vehicle which had lost a battle with a tree. Fair to say, it’s a DNF.

I hope nobody was inside when this happened.

I mentioned medical appointments earlier, and it is that time of year when I go for my annual sight test, in Didsbury. I arrived a bit early, so I thought I’d support the local economy by having a coffee in FFS, which must be a Front For Something. In the window, I was delighted to see this hand-painted portrait.

David Bowie with a fried egg on his collarbone

And of course, it’s always good to come across homespun philosophy in Didsbury.

There are many campaigns on right now, attempting to save the pollinators from extermination by pesticide. So I gave this bumble bee some words of encouragement from the roadside.

And now, the Tour de France is underway: it’s time to clear the calendar and settle in for three weeks of GC drama, solo breakaways, sprint finishes, and mountain massacres.

Sense of enormous wellbeing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Royal Astronomical Society Bicentennial Quilt

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

Homage to astronomer Ellen Baker’s 1876 Solar System quilt

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

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

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

Selfie of the day with an Infrared camera

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A fringe and a whinge

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Parks and Wreck

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks to Pauline for the photo!

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

Forever Changes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wandered through Didsbry village, nothing new there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Out and about again

Once upon a time, I stayed over at Jenny’s house, and even though I anticipated an early morning invasion, neither of the children came into my room to bounce on the bed.

Jenny took me home later in the day and I changed into my eveningware for a musical recital in Manchester. Well, no, I didn’t. But I did go into the big city for a gig.

I joined the queue, and I wonder if you can guess who I was here to see?

The venue is not one of my favourites, O2 Ritz, but I decided early on that I would head straight for the balcony where I could stand at the front, and lean on the barrier, or, sit down, actually sit down, on a chair or a bench.

On stage appeared Mark Radcliffe and Marc Riley who told us that the last time they introduced a band on stage together, it was David Bowie with his band. Tonight, they were happy to introduce us to Woody Woodmansey and Tony Visconti’s Holy Holy, performing some of the Best of Bowie. With about 500 songs to choose from, they did well to keep the show down to about two hours.

Who else was in the band? Glenn Gregory from Heaven 17 is a big Bowie fan and he still seems excited and honoured to be singing the songs. Jessical Lee Morgan played guitar and saxophone, not at the same time. Janette Mason did a great job on keyboards and, one day, I hope to see her in concert in her own right.

From my vantage point at the front of the balcony, I could watch Chris Thomas working hard on the merch stall. One of the items on sale was a copy of the set list, signed by Woody and Tony. So that saves me having to try and remember what songs were performed.

There was no support act. No, the band played solidly for two hours, and the audience sang along. A comment from the stage and repeated later on, on Bluesky, suggested this was the loudest crowd of the tour so far.

A young lady was pleased that I let her squeeze in beside me by the barrier. She cried at Life on Mars. There were a few emotional people around, mostly oldies like me, but there were a few young people too.

From the balcony, It was quite hard to get a decent photo. But we have to try. Unlike some folks, though, I didn’t bother with a flash!

T-shirt wars. Tony Visconti was wearing a Hype t-shirt. Hype was the band he was in with David Bowie, even before Space Oddity. This was apparently an original t-shirt. Hmmm. On the other hand, his daughter Jessica was wearing this one, an allusion to one of the encore songs. IYKYK, as the young people say.

Yes, after the show, I went down to the merch stall to see Jess and Chris. I didn’t buy the set list but I did buy a Holy Holy t-shirt, first time I’ve bought a band shirt since about 1994.

I couldn’t fight my way through the crowd to say hello to Woody but it was good to see him enjoying being in the spotlight.

The tour bus was parked outside, disguised as a bus from Manchester’s Bee Network: bright yellow.

I walked down the road a bit to book an Uber but with perfect timing, I was able to flag down a black cab.

After being home for a couple of weeks now, I felt it was time to go for a long walk. So off I went to Quarry Bank. Sadly, the route that we often follow was still closed, thanks to flooding a few weeks ago. Still, it was good to see some colour.

Where’s Liesel when you need someone to identify the flowers?

Since I couldn’t walk where I expected to, instead, I wandered along a path I don’t think I’ve paid any attention to before, and came across this.

This cross was originally situated at Cross Farm, Styal. Around 1860 it was moved by Robert Hyde Greg to Holly Lane where it stood until 1930 when it was demolished in a car accident. The base, thought to be medieval, was rebuilt in 1983 on this site but the upper column remained a truncated stump until 2010. A campaign, instigated by the Styal Village Association, raised sufficient funds to rebuild the upper half and restore the cross back to its original state.

But the highlight of the visit was the cheese and onion pasty I had for lunch. The last one available. I got there just in time.

In local news, the occupants of Flat 3, below us, have moved to Stockport.

Like I mentioned, I’ve been back home for two weeks now, and it was time to do some laundry. I’d forgotten how long the wash cycle is on our machine, compared with the bigger American ones. I think washing machine companies here must be in cahoots with the electric companies.

I drove over to Trafford General Hospital for a medical consultation and found it easy to park, despite warnings from other folks who have been. Yes, I have a full collection of hospitals now, but I suppose that means I’m being well looked after.

While waiting in the waiting room, I was messing about with my phone camera.

Annoyingly, it was so much quicker to drive to Crewe than to go by public transport. If I’d gone by bus and train, I might have missed the end of the show: either that, or I would have needed to find some accommodation.

In the past, I’ve seen Danny Baker on stage in Salford and in Buxton, but the nearest show on this latest tour was at the Lyceum Theatre in Crewe.

Another three hours of fun for old and young, without a hint of vulgarity. He got his 10,000 steps in again, pacing up and down the stage as he told us one funny anecdote after another. A bit more name-dropping this time than before, maybe, but he’s the first to admit he’s been very lucky with his career and with the people he’s been able to work with.

The theatre is magnificent, but the view from the stage must be a bit intimidating, surely? Not for The Candyman, it seems.

It was good to join one of the local organised walks this week and to have a coffee afterwards. The other two walks? Well, I missed them for other reasons which you can read about if you press the red button.

Some things that fly

Well, that was a most satisfying and long sleep with very few interruptions, thank you. And on waking, I realised I actually felt more dazed than tired and jetlagged.

I had to get up to receive the Ocado and Groobarb deliveries. Otherwise I might have stayed in my pit all day, I don’t know.

For the rest of the day, I fought the urge to have a nap while upacking. And it was good to wander round the streets of Northenden again. Nothing much has changed. The new guy in the Post Office is more grumpy than the old guy.

The weir now seems to be fully repaired. But I did wonder where the bodies were. The whole of Northenden was infested with zillions of small flies. I thought people were being nice, welcoming me home by waving at me, but no, they were just swatting those swarming flies away.

Meanwhile, Liesel and Leslie were flying from Albuquerque to Anchorage, planning to stay for the duration of an Alaskan Summer. Liesel plans to work a lot for Amrit and to go on a few hikes.

For me, the rest of the week was getting back to normal, really: reading, writing, walking, watching a little TV, listening to a lot of podcasts, radio shows and especially music. I didn’t quite make it out for any of the organised walks this first week back.

Veronika from a downstairs flat sent a message to say that our missing wheelie bin bad returned from its holiday and was on the pavement around the corner. I doubt the local council will buy back the replacement that we bought a few weeks ago.

Medical matters managed to make an early appearance, but I was plaeased to see the big bee at Wythenshawe Hospital again.

Sneezebee created by Pam Smart, Michelle Turton and Rose Chapman

The audience had a great time at the local theatre here in Northenden. We heard many old folk songs, some written nearly 200 years ago. The songs were all unfamilar to me, so I coudn’t sing along: a disappointment for everyone, I’m sure.

But Harp and a Monkey are the go-to band for songs about cuckolded molecatchers, Victorian bare-knuckle fighters and much more. Look ’em up!

They did have CDs for sale but I said I would just download their music from Bandcamp instead. Liesel wouldn’t appreciate even more CDs in the house, especially at this time when I’m supposed to be reducing the size of our CD collection.

While walking home, using my phone camera, I tried to get an artistic shot of the Moon and a streetlamp but it didn’t really work.

One thing I didn’t miss about Northenden was the fact that as soon as we have a couple of sunny days in a row, someone lights a bonfire. Another thing I didn’t miss about Northenden was the fact that as soon as we have a couple of sunny days in a row, someone thinks it’s OK to leave their dog outside in the garden, barking all night.

Oh, and don’t forget the fireworks, I missed those!

I was happy to witness one most unusual event though. A fly flew in through the open window, had a good sniff and a look around the apartment, and flew straight back out again, through the same window.

Wythenshawe Park hasn’t changed much. There are still some deep ruts in the grass from where heavy vehicles have been driven, maybe for a circus. Where there used to be a coffee shop, there are now a few trucks, one selling coffee, one offering pizza, and the building itself seems to be permanently closed.

I visited the farm: well, I just followed the smell, whether of other visitors or the livestock, I’m not sure.

Well, I can’t complain about the weather, it’s been warm and sunny and bright, and that makes it easier to go out each day. But, after 40 days of no rain in the area, the water companies are threatening us with a hosepipe ban.

I mentioned reading, writing, walking and all that, but sometimes I let myself get sucked into Instagram. A couple of genuinely good or interesting clips, and then press next, next, next, and suddenly an hour’s gone by. I think that’s my worst habit at the moment.

Jenny picked me up and I stayed at her place for a night. The children were camping out on sofa-beds downstairs and I enjoyed kipping in Aunty Helen’s bed. Or is that Auntie? Neither version looks right, so I’ll leave them both, so you can decide.

No, she’s not assisting a taxiing aeroplane, she’s blowing bubbles. More specifically, sticky bubbles. They stick to your skin rather than bursting straightaway.

He’s enjoying a milkshake through a straw fresh from New Mexico. The flavour comes from little balls of food-adjacent chemicals inside the straw so that the milk absorbs the flavour as it’s slurped upwards.

And here they are relaxing with their tablets, playing games that are beyond my understanding: another side-effect of getting old.

On the way out of the house, I did a double-take. I don’t know why this strikes me as being a bit spooky, but, well, it just is. Scary too.

Martha and I played a game of Backgammon, and she’s picked up the rules pretty well. It won’t be long before we’re playing for real money, using the doubling dice and everything.

Time to go Home

It’s not often I watch Doc Martin on TV while eating breakfast and chatting with Liesel’s Uncle Neil, but it happened today for the first time. Neil has one of the shortest email addresses in the known universe, just ten characters in total, which is great, except that some modern sites don’t accept it as a legitimate address.

As well as being a scientist and a mathematician, he’s a bit of a philosopher and has spent the last several decades researching and writing a now 80-page long document about his theory of, well, everything. Having exchanged email addresses, he sent me a copy which I look forward to reading.

While online, I came across a ‘Truth’ or whatever it’scalled by the President:

Donald J. Trump
@realDonald Trump

After visiting the beautiful city of Albuquerque earlier this month, I decided that it is disrespectful to America to have a state called New Mexico. It is surrounded by America so it should be called America. I plan to sign an Executive Order renaming the Land of Enchantment New America!

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Actually, I suspect it’s a fake, but who knows? It’s so believable these days.

As I was packing for my departure, I thought about some things that I’d observed here in Albuquerque, and beyond.

Piñons are very small nuts and the trees are prolific. The nuts are so small, that some of us just find it easier to eat them whole, shells included, rather than trying to peel them.

Indoors is very dry too, very low humidity. So, often I would touch the light switch, or the fridge door handle, or Liesel, and I would experience a static shock. Every time was a surprise.

When out and about, almost everything is covered in a thin layer of dust. It’s a dry, dusty old state. It is being modernised though: we passed by a few solar arrays on our various trips.

Also, while out and about, I was greatly entertained by the many adverts for lawyers on billboards by the highways.

• Do your research: the husband and wife law team.
• $1 billion recovered for clients
• Hurt? Call Bert
• Injured? Get more. Dial 4…
• Semi truck collision? Call…
• Dead? Call Fred

No, alright, I made the last one up.

There’s one infamous sign that I was hoping to see out on the road, but, disappointingly, it never materialised.

• Eat here and get gas

We didn’t have a barbecue at all here in New Mexico. No Abq bbq, so to speak. Yes, all this time, I could have been using Abq as an abbreviation for ‘Albuquerque’ instead of writing the word ‘Albuquerque’ in full every time I mentioned ‘Albuquerque’.

I know Americans don’t have the monopoly on mangling the English language, but there were a few times on this visit when my ears wanted to pack up and go home. Just a couple of examples:

• When we were in Europe forever ago…
• Hope you guys enjoy you guys’s lunch

This sort of thing is very common too: you see a discount on an item but no actual price. So this conversation was very common:

• That’s 50% off
• So, how much is it?
• Ummm…

Meanwhile, outside the weather was not conducive to a return visit to the Bosque, the Rio Grande River Loop Trail. It rained, again with huge raindrops. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the rumbling thunder was accompanied by a hailstorm. Hailstones as big as peas. There have been larger though. On one occasion, Buzz returned from Phoenix in a car that resembled a golfball. Someone may have been exaggerating, of course!

Helen and Brent called from Australia and Liesel and I had a very nice chat with them. Helen is very happy with her new car, a Toyota.

Liesel and I did get out briefly, though, Gabe drove us to see the storm drains after today’s extensive precipitation. The water was indeed flowing fast.

What a boring picture, I know what you’re thinking, so here’s a nearby, colourful, mural.

And so it was timefor me to say goodbye to our fantastic hosts, Buzz, Neil and Gabe. Liesel drove me to the airport. Now, usually, Liesel drops me off and I’m left to check in by myself. But on the way to the airport today, I received an email telling me that my second leg flight, from Atlanta to Manchester, had been cancelled. I always feel anxious about this aspect of travel, dealing with airlines and airports, because something will always go wrong, right? Well, not always. But this is the first time I’ve had to deal with a cancelled flight.

It was a short queue to check in, because, guess what, Manchester Airport, there were several members of staff working on the counters, all at the same time. Revolutionary.

Tiffany, my Delta agent was great, though. She fought through Virgin Atlantic and Air France’s BS and rearranged my trip back to the UK. I could have postponed the whole thing until the next day, but there’s no guarantee that Virgin Atlantic wouldn’t cancel again, for ‘technical reasons’.

So, rather than Abq to Atlanta to Manchester, I now have three flights: Abq to Atl to Orlando to Manchester. And I would arrive just two hours later than originally planned.

So after all the excitement and fun and places of interest in New Mexico, my fear and anxiety of travelling through airports was, today, fully justified.

In Security, I was patted down, because the poppers on my shorts lit up on their very fussy scanner. As someone else joked, rather riskily I thought: usually I’d get dinner and a drink for that.

At the gate, we learnt that our plane was arriving late so we’d be departing late. So of course, I am now more worried about not making the connections. Whereas my original schedule had a 3-hour layover in Atlanta, it was now 1½ hours. Even less with this late departure. Tiffany was at the gate so again I thanked her profusely.

My window seat was OK, but I couldn’t see anything other than the wing. After an uneventful flight, people with connections were allowed off first. Everyone had a connecting flight.

In Atlanta I walked and took the train to my departure gate, arriving with less than an hour to spare. I took more slow, deep breaths before going for a quick wander to find something to eat. A very nice, tasty tomato, cheese and basil crêpe was the best option.

I don’t know why I worry about the size of my carry-on bag when people seem to get away with bulging backpacks and antique Victorian trunks. Well, very nearly.

This flight was late taking off too, for which they apologised but offered no explanation. I had an aisle seat this time, sitting next to a very rude Italian man. He was upset because he’d been made to check his oversize bag but I didn’t laugh out loud: never mess with the Mafia.

And of course, I was now worried about making my connecting flight in Orlando.

My English accent did me no favours on this flight: I failed to get any milk for my welcome cup of tea. While in New Mexico, only one person had accused me of being Australian, but I still can’t recall the circumstances.

The plane landed in Orlando, and we taxied for ages and ages before the pilot announced that there was currently no gate available. Apparently, after a big storm yesterday, they were still catching up on a backlog of delayed flights.

After about half an hour, we were able to disembark. I’d not been to Orlando Airport since 1992 and couldn’t remember it at all and it’s probably changed anyway since then so I really hoped it would be easy to find my next, and final, departure gate. It was, and again I plonked myself down with much less than an hour to go.

I looked around, but there were no ads for Disneyworld, so I failed in my mission to take a selfie with Mickey or Minnie. There were no food outlets either nearby so I was very glad of the cheese sandwich Liesel had made for me.

Annoyingly, I wasn’t able to order a vegetarian meal for this flight. I’d asked at every opportunity, but no, because the flight is within 24 hours. But it was your airline, Virgin Atlantic, that cancelled my original flight. Oh well, never mind was the official response.

My seat was in the back row, right in front of the toilet and I sat next to a nice lady with an English accent. Well, it turns out she lives in New York state, moved there when she was about 2 years old, and was now visiting her cousin in Chester.

I couldn’t sleep, as usual, so I watched two movies: Paddington in Peru, and Heretic, both of which I can recommend, especially if you’re a Hugh Grant fan.

There was just one thing left for me to worry about. Given my flights were late and the connection times were tight, would my checked in bag make it home on the same flight as me?

After landing, disembarking, walking a long way to Passport Control in Manchester Airport’s Terminal 2, the moment of truth. Along with hundreds of other dazed passengers, I watched the baggage carousel with a mix of excitement at being back on home turf and dread at the thought of the bureaucracy I’d have to go through again if my case didn’t turn up. But, no, look, is that it? Yes, is that the right label? Yes, yes and yes.

The taxi driver took me home the long way, but that meant he just got a smaller tip than otherwise.

Arriving home is always a bit of anticlimax. A quick walk to get some milk then I had a cup of tea and, despite my best efforts, a nap.

I managed to stay awake for the duration of the first episode of the new series of Doctor Who before going to bed properly. Good night.

Seeing Stars

There was no point in revelling in our success at the pub quiz last night, since we didn’t have any! We came joint last, but it was all good fun. In the morning, we left Tammy and Aaron in peace and drove into Santa Fe city centre for breakfast in Clafoutis, the French bakers. No, we didn’t mind sitting at a ‘communal table’. But our ‘companions’ left as soon as we sat down. We had the table to ourselves until a couple of ladies joined us. One from Colorado, the other from Pennsylvania.

Liesel and Tammy had had a great massage last week, so Liesel took me to the same place and we were pummelled and poked for an hour. I think it was a good massage. To recover, we spent a little time in the book shop next door. So many books to catch up on, both new and old.

The drive back to Albuquerque was quick, I think I nodded off for a bit and missed a lot of the stunning New Mexico scenery.

As a prelude to a visit to the zoo, I spotted some wildlife in the courtyard.

There was nothing special about these millions of ants apart from their speed: they were very busy, or at least, running around, looking busy. Fudgelling, I think, is the word.

Liesel drove Leslie and me to Albuquerque Zoo , or more accurately, ABQ BioPark Zoo. We had a nice wander around the place, which wasn’t as crowded as we’d expected, having seen how packed the car park was.

It wasn’t only the animals we were here to see: some of the plantlife was fascinating too. There were some bigger animals, as well, don’t worry. The polar bear here seemed to have a lot more room than that poor old thing in Chessington World of Adventures a few years ago. This one appeared to be having fun too, climbing rocks, diving and swimming.

The kookaburras responded to my recording of their cousin, made in Australia some years ago. It was mean, really, they probably think they have a new friend. Sorry. That’s nearly as bad as little boys chasing ducks.

In the café, the man had to show me how to order food on the touchscreen because it was too hard for him to listen to my order with his own ears. Having placed the order electronically, he then read it out to me from his own screen, just to confirm what I wanted. Anyway, my bowl of fries was very nice, just what I needed. Liesel and Leslie had an ice cream instead.

The sign on the fence told us there were zebras in this enclosure. Well, that small rodent with a fluffy tail looked more like a squirrel to me, it didn’t even have any stripes.

One of these characters is preparing to add some charcters to the mural, the other is playing hide and seek with his troop.

The hippos were very active, although Liesel was disappointed that none of them did the thing with their tail, spinning it round and round to spread the love from their bottoms.

The cutest thing was undoubtedly the Mum gorilla carrying her baby around.

Time for a return visit to the cabin. Neil and I left quite early and spent the day and night there, seemingly out in the middle of nowhere.

I helped Neil with a few odd jobs. Fixing a light fitting was OK. Attaching the fan was OK, I just let Neil climb the ladder. Fitting the fan blades was a bit of a let-down, because the wrong size screws had been supplied.

Another job was plumbing related, definitely not my favourite thing. But we succeeded without losing too much water from the system.

The most interesting job though was to affix a Moultrie Edge cellular trail camera to a tree, facing the cabin, so that from home in Albuquerque, Neil can keep an eye on the cabin and monitor the weather.

It can be set up with a motion sensor so that any passing wildlife will be captured on film too. Well, not literally film, but you know what I mean. The first animal it took a picture of was, er, me, posing by a tree.

Walking around the area surrounding the cabin cannot be done stealthily. There’s always something crunching under foot, leaves, wood, pine cones.

Later in the evening, I prepared my new Seestar S50. The Moon was easy to spot, but the sky was pretty much obscured by clouds, which was disappointing.

I also found Jupiter and its four brightest moons, but I couldn’t discern the coloured bands on Jupiter itself. As it got darker, more clouds moved in, so I went back inside, and very soon, it was time for bed.

At about 1.30, I woke up for the usual reason, and while outside, I couldn’t believe how clear the sky was, how many stars I could see. No clouds at all. Well, even though it was cold, I decided I would take the Seestar out on the balcony again and do some stargazing.

I was very impressed with these pictures, but I wasn’t so impressed with the how cold it was outside, brrr, apparently it was about 40°F, that’s so different to the daytime temperature. So I went back to bed.