Manchester – Page 2 – Mick and Liesel's Antics

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.

Places to go

It’s been a while since we’ve been to an author’s event, so it’s time to fix that. Before going into the venue, we visited the Long Bar, just down the road in Bramhall. Pre-show cocktail? I don’t mind if I do.

Amongst the fellow guests in this emporium was comedian Jason Manford. When, a couple of days later, Liesel told one of her WI mates that we’d seen him, she said, “Oh, yeah, I used to teach him.” Small world isn’t it?

Liesel and I joined about 16 other folks in Simply Books to see and hear Emma Hinds talking about her new book, The Quick and the Dead. I was one of just three blokes, and one of the others was a friend of Emma’s.

It was a fascinating chat, the story taking place in 1597. It’s funny how most of the historical novels we read are about the Tudor period. I look forward to reading Emma’s book and I said I’d catch up with Elle’s soon too.

It’s finally happened. The door of the dishwasher is broken, kaput. For years, we’ve had to lower the door by hand because the spring keeps breaking. Now, it only opens halfway. Time to invest in a new one. So I’ll be handwashing the dishes for a week or so.

I’ve been listening to Tony Blackburn for 60 years on the radio, and in his own words, he is quite sensational. Not just because he was born in the same hospital as me, Mount Alvernia in Guildford. He was the first DJ to read out my name on the radio, during his Radio 1 Breakfast Show. The slot was called School Salute, and even though my class, 3F, requested a Bee Gees song, he played Here Comes the Judge by Pigmeat Markham, but the disappointment was outweighed by the excitement of hearing our names on the radio. I wonder what happened to Ian Cordery, Howard Heather and all the others? The only one I’m still in touch with is Andrew Webb. Hello Andrew! This week, for the first time, we saw Tony on stage, in the flesh, at Bridgewater Hall. He hosted a show based on his long-running Radio 2 programme, Sounds of the 60s. The all-star band and the two vocalists performed about 100 songs from the 1960s, insterspersed by some of Tony’s best/worst jokes. The musical director and sax player was Leo Green, whose Dad Benny I used to listen to in the early days of Jazz FM.

Before the show, we dined at a different venue, HOME, and as we left, we told the server where we were going, and he said everyone seems to be going there tonight.

The venue was pretty much sold out, and as Liesel observed, we’ve never seen so much grey hair in one audience.

Sounds of the 60s Band and Singers and Tony

I chatted a bit with the old chap I was sitting next to. As we were leaving, he asked if I watched Corrie? Never seen a whole episode of Coronation Street and I’m not about to start now. Then he told me, he was a regular extra in the show, and has been for years.

As you can see from the photo, we were way up in the Circle, and, on the way down, I captured another Manchester Bee.

The plaque next to the bee told us about the bust of Sir John Barbirolli, and didn’t mention the bee itself. But we’re very grateful to Sir John for reviving the fortunes of the Hallé Orchestra during the 1950s.

Everyone was looking forward to seeing the blood red Moon, a partial lunar eclipse, just before sunrise. I got up, looked out, noted the 100% cloud cover and returned to my pit.

We debated whether to go by train but in the end we drove to Stratford-upon-Avon. It’s an interesting place and a nice halfway point between Manchester and London. Our friends Trudi and John are visiting from Hawaii along with their niece Haylee. They came by train and we met at the station. I’m sure they noticed the cold north wind welcoming them to England.

John and I walked to Anne Hathaway’s Cottage while Liesel drove the ladies there. We’d not been to this venue before, but the guide was informative and the house itself very interesting.

We had lunch at The Dirty Duck, in the Actor’s Bar, which is adorned with photos of many actors from stage and screen. One of the few I could immediately put a name to was Richard Burton.

Of course, we had to visit Anne Hathaway’s husband’s birthplace, which is situated on the main street, very handy for the shops.

There’s more of an exhibition here too, celebrating Shakespeare’s plays, sonnets and life. Playwrights were the rock stars of the time, said one of the hosts, quite wealthy, some of them.

Again, I regret not taking more photos of the visitors, but here they are.

For dessert, we visited Prospero Lounge. With a name like that, I thought there might be some Shakespearean theme, but there wasn’t. The sticky toffee pudding was fabulous though.

I was quite happy to walk from venue to venue while Liesel drove all the others, even if it was a tight squeeze in our little car. We said our farewells back at the station, having spent a really nice (if cold) day with our delightful buddies.

As on the journey to Stratford, the drive home was easy, no hold-ups at all on the M6 which is most unusal.

Did I mention the sticky toffee pudding? Well, that meant we didn’t need much to eat when we got home.

Liesel, her Mom and I drove into Manchester for a very funny comedy night.

Another great night’s entertainment from two comedians, only one of whom I’ve seen before. Yes, they are wearing the same shirt. I won’t repeat any of the jokes here, some of them are not suitable for a family audience. Luckily, mother-in-law was sitting behind me, so I can only imagine the look on her face, knowing that Klaus would have been laughing like a drain. Do drains laugh?

Flatpack and puck

Everyone seems to be using AI tools to do everything these days, and I am no exception. We went to see a local production of the Ira Levin play, Deathtrap, which we all enjoyed. I remember seeing this play with Sarah in Peterborough in the early 1980s, but of course, I’d totally forgotten the story. Until it started this time, then it all came flooding back. But there were still a couple of incidents that made me jump. On the way home, my mind was wandering and I thought it would be good to rewrite the play as a series of rhyming couplets. Well, I don’t have patience for that, but I did ask ChatGPT to do something along those lines. Here’s the result.

Sidney Bruhl, once a playwright famed,
Now sits in a slump, his career badly maimed.
His box office flops, they keep him awake,
A writer once great, now struggling to make.

He picks up a play, with a grin so wide,
Tells Myra, “This script, I can’t let it slide.
A student’s work, by Clifford, you see,
It’s brilliant, a hit, it’s meant to be free!”

With playful reassurances, he adds with a smile,
“Just kidding, my dear, but it’s worth your while.
Perhaps I could kill him, and steal all the gold,
For a script this good, it’s worth its weight in bold.”

Myra’s alarmed, she starts to grow cold,
Her husband’s dark humor’s growing too bold.
Sidney picks up the phone, no time to delay,
Calling Clifford, to have him come and play.

“Come over, my friend, let’s talk through the night,
I’ve got suggestions that’ll make your play right.
Deathtrap’s a hit, and you’ve set it so well,
I’ve got ideas to make it excel.”

And thus begins the game, so clever and slick,
In the world of Deathtrap, where plots tend to stick.

That’s just the first scene. That’s plenty. Obviously American English, less than ideal scanning and not as entertaining as the play itself. In fact, if I were you, I wouldn’t bother reading it. Northenden Theatre Players Club did a very good job, but their run is now over.

Spring is a bit slow coming this year, snowdrops seem to be winning the race against crocuses and daffodils: there are little patches of them in really strange or unexpected places.

A couple of relatively warm days are invariably followed by a really cold spell, easterly winds straight from Siberia.

Liesel and I have watched Transatlantic Sessions on TV for a few years, not so much recently: not sure the shows are broadcast any more. But there was a live show here in Manchester and we couldn’t resist going to see the performance at Aviva Studios, home of Factory International.

It was very nearly a full house and we enjoyed over two hours of great folk and country music from Scotland, Ireland and USA. It’s a great band, they all play on each others’ songs. We particularly liked Julie Fowlis, Loudon Wainwright and Niall McCabe.

Liesel and her Mom went out for a coffee and by mistake found themselves at Ikea, buying a wardrobe for Mom’s room. This meant I had to blow the dust off my tools and build the wardrobe, in situ since we don’t have enough floor space. It was straightforward enough, the instructions were good, but I found I was using muscles that long ago were resigned to never having to do any DIY ever again. Injuries incurred? A bruise on my left biceps, no idea how, and one broken finger nail, can’t remember how.

This was a weekend well spent and I think Leslie enjoys having somewhere to organise her clothes.

Meanwhile, Jenny and family were in London for the weekend, visiting friends, Big Ben and Buckingham Palace. The highlight for me was seeing the children outside the family ballet shoe shop. They were also a little bit naughty and went to see the musical Matilda.

Helen and Brent went for a quick break in the campervan, but it broke down, so they ended up camping at home. Still, it’s all an adventure.

Liesel’s Aunt Buzz lives in Aluquerque, New Mexico (although by the time you read this, Trump will probably have renamed the state New America.) Buzz’s daughter and son-in-law Andrea and Steve moved to the UK a couple of years ago and they now live in Richmond. Well, Buzz is visiting Andi and Steve and the three of them came up north to visit us for a few days. Leslie was very happy to see her older sister.

Late afternoon saw all of us enjoying a meal at Albert’s in Didsbury along with Jenny and the family. This party of 10 was the biggest group we’ve booked a table for in many, many years. We remembered the last time Jenny met Andi. We were all on holiday in Hawaii with many other family members. Yes, 10 of us in the restaurant having a great time and yet none of us took any pictures.

We’d also booked an organised walk in Manchester so we met up at the Alan Turing Memorial statue in Manchester. There were about twenty people altogether on the tour, which was interesting, although I think we all thought the guide spoke for a bit too long before we started actually walking. Standing around in the cold, biting wind is not my ears’ idea of fun, even with a decent Winter hat.

One thing I’ve never seen before is the Monument to Vimto. Yes, that horrible sweet and nasty beverage that is an anagram of vomit. Someone though it would be a good idea to have a statue.

During the walking tour, we visited or passed by a number of places of interest, each with a interesting story.

We learned about the Peterloo Massacre and how it lead directly to the publication of The Manchester Guardian, now the Guardian newspaper that we read online far more often then we buy an actual physical copy. I do miss doing the various puzzles though.

We had a late lunch at The Oast House in Manchester where, although it was tempting to have a cocktail, it was so cold outside, it was more warm beer type weather.

Fletcher Moss Botanical Garden was the venue of our walk the following day. There’s mud everywhere, signs of recent flooding.

The wind wasn’t as bitingly cold as yesterday: I didn’t feel I was verging on earache in the same way. We walked down to the river but the path towards Northenden was blocked, it looks like some maintenance work is taking place.

There are a few plants in bud and very soon, we hope, the park will a carousel of colour. After a quick cup of tea at the café, we wandered into Didsbury, visiting La Chouquette for a loaf of their delicious sourdough bread and visiting none of the charity shops. We had lunch at The Art of Tea after which we went our separate ways for a while. I took Leslie and Buzz back to our apartment where I also picked up my pedometer. Yes, I’d walked miles and miles this morning without the steps being counted: what a waste!

Meanwhile, Liesel went into Manchester with Andi and Steve. I later joined them at Sinclair’s Oyster Bar for a drink. I can’t remember the last time I went on a pub crawl, but I enjoyed today’s.

Next stop, The Old Wellington next door. This pub dates from 1552. In June 1996 a bomb exploded in nearby Corporation Street & damaged many of the surrounding buildings including The Old Wellington. It was repaired & reopened in 1997 but due to the city’s redevelopment, it was decided the building would be dismantled & rebuilt 300 m northward to its present location in Shambles Square, which opened in 1999. So says the plaque inside the pub.

Our final stop today was The Temple of Convenience, you know, the underground pub in what used to be a public toilet. The one where Elbow celebrated their Mercury awards all those years ago. For a while, we were the only customers, so plenty of opportunity to read the posters and the graffiti.

I ordered pizza and we picked it up on the way home. We had a lively discussion about whether to pronounce ‘pizzeria’ as ‘pizzeria’ or ‘pizzeria’.

We said goodbye to Andi and Steve who were returning home to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Liesel, Leslie and I would spend one more day with Buzz. We visited Quarry Bank and wandered around the mill. We couldn’t follow our usual walk down through the gardens as there had been a landslide.

After the tour of Quarry Bank Mill, we enjoyed lunch in the restaurant. My cauliflower pastie was fabulous, much nicer than the scones, although I could have had one of those too!

A few days earlier, Liesel contributed a green crocheted heart to the postbox decoration with her WI buddies. I think this is the first time I’ve been able to put a name to a yarnbomber.

While Buzz stayed at home with Leslie, Liesel and I went to Altrincham for our Valentine’s day date night. We should have more date nights, just the two of us.

We dined at a Chinese place called Gonbay, and it was reassuring to see a big Chinese family enjoying their meal on the table next to ours. I wasn’t expecting to see one of these though:

After the meal, we had a 14-minute walk to Planet Ice. Ooh, a night of ice-skating? Nope. We were here to watch my first ever live ice hockey match. Manchester Storm v Dundee Stars. I didn’t shout it out loud of course, but I wanted Dundee to win, since that was the birthtown of my Mum.

Strangely, ice hockey is a game of three halves. Manchester Storm were 2-0 up after the first period. And, actually, if you trust the announcer, the local team is called Man. Ches. Ter. Storrrrrrrrm.

The group of supporters from Dundee was confined to a small area in the corner, but they were quite vocal at times.

The background music, mainly from the 1980s, was OK, but they only ever played short snippets, persumably so they don’t have to pay royalties. It’s certainly a fast and furious game, you need to be fit. But from the spectators’ point of view, not exciting enough, since we were entertained by a quiz and a raffle during the breaks.

In the end, Dundee Stars won 4-3. The puck travelling at hundreds of miles per hour made it very hard to follow at times. None of the players were injured, well, apart from one incident after which it took a couple of cleaners quite a while to scrape the blood off the ice. And somebody broke their stick.

Who would have guessed, when Torvill and Dean won the Ice Dance competition during the Winter Olympics in Sarajevo, dancing to Ravel’s Bolero, that 41 years later, to the day, I would be watching other ice skaters doing something completely different?

Early in the morning, Liesel drove Buzz to the railway station: she’s rejoining Andi and Steve in Richmond for a few more days before returning to New Mexico.

I’ve been sneezing a lot this week and it took a few days for me to realise that it’s probably hay fever.

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.

Pipes and pins

As I’ve said before, it’s always a bit of an anticlimax when you get back to normal after a break, however short. Which means we’re back to our normal day-to-day inactivity.

Amongst the ‘normal’ were our infrequent but frustrating fights with the internet: forgotten passwords, forgotten subscriptions, things that worked last week but don’t any more for no obvious reason. Our devices don’t know how lucky they are sometimes, not having had an axe embedded in their nether regions.

Having been disappointed by only seeing a stuffed fox in London, it was delightful to see a couple as we drove over to Sale Water Park. I don’t think the M60 slip road was the best place for them to play, to be honest.

From Sale Water Park, we took the tram into Manchester and had a ten minute walk to Bridgewater Hall. Not for a concert on this occasion, but to have a close look at the very impressive organ, with its 5,500 pipes. I counted them. David Wood was our very informative and interesting host. He maintans the organ, as well as hundreds of others in the north of England. I was hoping for a blast of Toccata and Fugue, but, instead, he regaled us with the history of the instrument, its construction and installation.

There were about 8 of us on this particular tour, and David took us up a narrow staircase to the second of three floors that the 22-tonne organ occupies. We had to duck under and carefully step round various obstacles, but it was fascinating to see the inner workings.

We didn’t see it, but apparently there’s a mouse in the organ. Way up high, carved into the wooden ceiling, with little leather ears, visible from the top floor where we mortals weren’t allowed.

We wandered back via the back of the Central Library, where what we thought were left-over Christmas decorations were actually something else, looking to the future rather than the past.

It will soon be Chinese New Year, the Year of the Snake.

The building work at Martha and William’s school continues, meaning that access to the car park is restricted. Usually, when it’s our turn to pick the children up from school, we walk back to their home and then drive them back to our place. Today, though, we drove to the school and took them to Parrs Wood.

My ten-pin bowling skills are, let’s say, limited. We played two games, Martha won the first and I won the second mainly because William and Martha were losing interest and getting tired!

After the bowling, they spent some time in the arcade, playing many of the games, winning hundreds of tokens which they redeemed at the end for some cheapo sweeties. Great fun, they enjoyed themselves, that’s the main thing, but I thought the prizes were rubbish.

For dinner, we took them to Zumuku Sushi in Cheadle, a place they visit often enough that Wilma was happy to see them and knew their names. Frequent visitors, or notorious for some reason?

Going back to the internet, Liesel and I have both X-communicated ourselves. Yes, we have deactivated our X, formerly Twitter, accounts. A small way to fight back against the new American oligarchy, I know, but other than referring to Elon’s vehicles as Swasticars, what else can we do?

A few pairs

For some people, the second day of the new year began with a long Uber ride across London to the airport. Farewell, Una, Phil and Kiran, it’s been a gas!

For Liesel, Leslie and me, it began with a leisurely hotel breakfast. And again we recalled the time when Liesel’s Dad, Klaus, was staying at a Premier Inn some years ago. At breakfast, he was asked how many sausages he wanted. “Oh, six please.” Or eight. Depends who’s telling the story.

We parked up at Mottingham Station and caught the train to Waterloo. While my wife and her mother were in Boots, I enjoyed listening to today’s busker.

Let’s hope her partner’s surgery goes well. We returned to Gudrun Sjoden as Liesel needed to return one of the items purchased a few days ago. While she and Mom browsed and tried on everything, I went for a walk, passing by some familiar shops, such as Forbidden Planet and Mildred’s. I did see an urban fox, something we’d missed so far in London. The sad thing is, it was dead, stuffed and in a shop window.

I walked as far as the National Portrait Gallery café where I sat underneath Audrey Hepburn’s bum while wolfing down a sandwich and a coffee.

While I was wandering around the gallery, admiring some portraits, Liesel and Leslie arrived for their lunch too.

Our late afternoon and evening were very lazy and the next day, it was time to go west.

Liesel’s cousin Andi and her husband Steve live in Richmond, and we’d planned to stay with them for a few nights. It wasn’t really on the way, but we visited Ightham Mote in Kent, another National Trust property. It was, as they say, a crisp but sunny day, the more remarkable because today was the first time this Winter we’d had to scrape ice off the car.

We had a nice, leisurely walk around the grounds. There is a moat and I still don’t know what a ‘Mote’ is in this context. According to Wikipedia, the architectural writer John Newman describes Ightham Mote as “the most complete small medieval manor house in the county”.

A member of staff advised us to look out for the mice and we did see a few on our wander.

My sympathies are with the gardeners. I had a 30+ year battle with bindweed in Chessington and I am convinced that after the nuclear apocalypse, it will be the last surviving species along with the cockroaches.

In the courtyard, we found a large 19th century dog kennel. There was no large 19th century dog, though, so I asked Liesel to give an idea of scale.

The house itself was interesting, lots of old stuff of course, and some humorous cartoons on the wall, such as the snooker player who might be a Champion, if there were a Championship.

The drive along the M25 wasn’t too bad and we arrived in Richmond just as the Sun was setting. Not long after, we saw the Moon and Saturn.

The other fascinating celestial object bright enough to see in twilight? Well, it turned out to be an aeroplane on its descent to Heathrow Airport. We found Andi and Steve’s house easily enough and it was good to see them again after all this time.

Steve was in charge of breakfast and he made a wonderful omelette for us. That set me up nicely for my trip across London, thank you very much. I can’t believe I’ve known Marie now for 35 years: we worked together at Kingston University. She lives in Orpington and if she hadn’t had prior engagements, I could have seen her while we were staying in nearby Eltham! D’oh!

On the way, I stopped off at the Southbank Centre for a coffee and to see what was going on.

Fred Tschida’s spinning, glowing work is recreated at a technically ambitious scale. In this work, two parallel rings of brilliant orange-red neon – the natural colour emitted by the gas when high-voltage electricity passes through it – rotate at a slower speed of 15 rpm to produce the illusion, when photographed with a long exposure, of a giant glowing orb. So says the blurb. But it wasn’t rotating at 15 rpm when I was there. And I couldn’t find anyone to wind it up. So, to be contrary, I just took a still shot.

I walked over the Jubilee bridge and caught the train to Orpington from Charing Cross. This was followed by a bus ride and a bit of a walk, during which I very nearly missed a very important alleyway.

It was lovely to see Marie again, and to meet her Mum for the first time. Marie very kindly fed me as if I were a goose being fattened up for Christmas! Sorry, I forgot to take a picture of my host.

Before returning to Richmond, I thought I’d pay a quick visit to Battersea Power Station. Not to visit the new shopping centre, there are shopping centres all over the place. No, I wanted to see the sign outside the underground station that says ‘Battersea Power Station Station’.

You can only imagine the waves of disappointment and dismay that engulfed me when I realised I’d been hoaxed.

Meanwhile, Liesel, Leslie, Andi and Steve had had a good, if slightly damp, day at RHS Wisley Gardens, just off the A3.

They also had a late lunch at The Anchor, Pyrford Lock. No homity pie on this occasion though. So I think it’s fair to say, none of us needed a full evening meal.

It snowed in Manchester and we’d missed it, oh well, never mind, but our grandchildren enjoyed the experience.

‘Twas damp the day we visited the Victoria and Albert Museum but we thought we’d stay dry as we walked along the tunnel from South Ken tube station to the museum. But the tunnel was closed, so we had to walk outside, in the drizzle.

We admired the tapestries from the Mughal empire, the detail is incredible.

Twill-weave cotton and linen mixture, embroidered with silk thread in chain stitch. Gujarat, for the western market. About 1725-50.

Export embroideries of this kind were based on contemporary chintz patterns, with designs being sent by the Dutch and English East India Companies to both the Coromandel Coast in South-East India for chintzes and Gujarat in the North-West for embroideries. No, of course I didn’t commit that to memory.

‘Laughing Matters’ is a display of comedy objects and artefacts from the last 200 years. A lot of the items wouldn’t be accepted as entertainment today and I probably shouldn’t have laughed at some of them: how did they get away with that, even in the 1960s, 1970s?

We had a look at the jewellery too. I couldn’t quite capture the coloured glints from the diamonds.

If this were a shop, of course I would have bought this tiara for my beloved, but it was a museum exhibit, so I couldn’t. Oh well, never mind.

This tiara, from 1903, of graduated flaming hearts and C-scrolls was inspired by a vision of France before the Revolution. Louis Cartier encouraged his designers to sketch 18th-century ironwork and architectural ornament in Paris and Versailles, and to study engraved jewellery designs.

Consuelo, Duchess of Manchester, was a prominent American heiress who married into the British nobility in 1876. The Duke of Portland recorded that she ‘took Society completely by storm by her beauty, wit and vivacity and it was soon at her very pretty feet’.

France; Cartier, Paris, with diamonds supplied by the Duchess of Manchester Gold and silver with diamonds; the C-scroll at each end is set with paste (glass). No, I didn’t memorise this info either.

I was very pleased to see Edward Scissorhand’s hand, though, mostly because if you’d asked me where it was, I doubt I would have guessed the V&A.

Back in Richmond, we walked down the road to The Prince’s Head pub for our evening meal. This is the pub featured in the popular TV series Ted Lasso. While the carnivores had roast meat or fish and chips, I enjoyed my roasted vegetable and feta pithivier. No, I’ve never seen that word before, either, but it’s just a posh French word for a puff pastry pie. The staff get their entertainment from listening to us customers struggling to pronounce le mot. The meal was delicious, though

We left Richmond early(-ish), hoping to beat the traffic home, this being the end of the Christmas and New Year holiday period, when we thought most people would be returning home. In the end, the drive wasn’t too bad.

It didn’t take too long to get back into our normal routine at home. Apart from, we did experience some cold and some snow. The temperature hovered around freezing for a couple of days, and it was a bit icy.

We did go into Manchester for an art show. What better way to mark what would have been David Bowie’s 77th birthday than by seeing fellow artist David Hockney at work? Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) was the name of the show at Factory International.

David Hockney himself took us on a personal journey through sixty years of his art in this vibrant immersive exhibition. With huge state-of-the-art projections and a revolutionary sound system, Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) let us experience the world through David Hockney’s eyes. We saw his work from LA to Yorkshire, and up to the present day in Normandy. The show was an incredible opportunity to get to know one of the great popular geniuses of the art world, still experimenting with new technology to create beauty and wonder. We watched Hockney experiment with perspective, use photography as a way of ‘drawing with a camera’, capture the passing of time in his polaroid collages and the joy of sSpring on his iPad – and he showed us why only paint can properly convey the hugeness of the Grand Canyon. The specially composed score by Nico Muhly was fantastic too, not intrusive at all.

Liesel and Leslie in a Hockney landscape

And finally, one more time: Happy New Year! I stole this fascinating piece of mathematical trivia from someone on the internet: merci beaucoups!

It’s the season

One thing I never do in Anchorage is take a bus somewhere. I did once, on my first visit. I fell asleep and ended up at the airport. So, back home now, we’re again in the habit of taking buses here and there. But this news was a little disconcerting:

Thanks to whoever put this up on social media, it potentially saved me from a very long wait.

The gardeners came and removed all the fallen leaves from the communal car park. We no longer have to slide on or squelch through ankle deep leaf litter to reach our car. That was an exciting day, watching the workers.

We drove over to Cheadle Hulme to watch Martha and William swimming, and again, Martha’s diving was impressive, something I’ve never been able to do

Wythenshawe Radio offered a quick course which I attended, in a training room above the library in Wythenshawe Forum. It felt strange walking through a classroom to get there, but it was a fun couple of hours.

My wife, mother-in-law and I ventured into Manchester, walked through the Christmas Market but didn’t engage. No overpriced Glühwein for us. A quick spot of Christmas shopping but en passant, I couldn’t help but notice the odd typo. Maybe there’s a competition taking place that I’m not aware of.

Manchester has been well decorated and we were impressed by the tree. The photo of Liesel and Leslie in front of it wasn’t very good, so I photoshopped them out.

I visited the pharmacy for my booked Covid jab but they hadn’t yet received the delivery. Another sign that the whole of society is going to the dogs. They did call a few days later though, and I am now fully vaccinated and I feel invincible, cough, cough, splutter.

We didn’t visit the RHSGlow light show at Bridgewater. But Jenny and the family had a simply wonderful time there.

Somewhere else we’re not is Christchurch, New Zealand, a city proud to home my sister Pauline and her other half Andrew. It’s meant to be Summer there, so imagine my delight when Pauline sent photos after a recent, heavy snowstorm. Or maybe it’s hail?

Where else didn’t we go? We didn’t see Paul McCartney in concert at the Arena in Manchester. It may just be old age, but we didn’t really like the venue last time we went. Plus, the last time I saw him perform, at the O2, with Jenny, a few years ago, I thought it was the best Beatles concert I’d ever see and it probably couldn’t be topped. Now, of course, a few days after the event, I wish I’d gone. (Apart from Hey Jude, which would have been my cue to visit the toilets.)

Leslie’s birthday came and on the day, we collected the children from school, brought them home for a spot of craftwork, specifically decorating pine cones that they’d picked up in Formby on a recent visit, after which, we joined Jenny and Liam for a birthday meal.

You can tell William’s a proper little boy. Just look at the state of this:

One major event this week. I have reached the end of the classic Doctor Who series on BBC iPlayer, including the film made in 1996 starring Paul McGann as the 8th Doctor. The film was much better than the final couple of storylines in the TV series. A character made of licorice allsorts and cats riding horses, that’s all you need to know. Now, we’re all looking forward to this year’s special Doctor Who episode on Christmas Day.

In fact, Liesel bought the Christmas special edition of Radio Times. I thought it would be nice to see what’s on the radio over Christmas. This is Radio Times. Radio gets a mention after a mere 250 pages, national, local, BBC, commercial radio, and all the listings squoze into a mere 33 pages. Whinge of the day.

Oh, alright, here’s another one. When you want to unsubscribe from an email that you don’t remember signing up to in the first place, and you have to do several Captchas to prove you’re not a robot and the pictures aren’t clear enough so you go round and round in circles and you end up swearing you’ll never ever do business with that company. Grrr.

One thing I miss about Anchorage is that we no longer have to be on the lookout for bears. Imagine my surprise then when I encountered one here in Northenden.

This will be the final post before the big day. Liesel and I would like to wish you a very Merry Christmas and lots of good fortune for the new year.

This is our Christmas tree, beautifully and expertly decorated by Liesel. But, a Christmas tree made of wood? What a ridiculous idea!

And back again

And so, it came to pass, our final full day in Anchorage. And what an exciting day it was, too. The US Postal Service offer a service in which your mail is scanned, and they send you an image of what to expect. This way, when we’re in England, we can tell someone which of Leslie’s items to open and which bills to pay. Liesel took her Mom to the Post Office to show ID and set this up. They both had their hair cut before going into the office for one final session of work.

Meanwhile, this morgenmuffel emptied the bins, sorted out the newly dried laundry, did some writing and packed the bulk of my stuff. My reward was to watch the last couple of episodes of Our Universe on TV. It’s narrated by Morgan Freeman and while being interesting, some of the links made between life on Earth and the history of the universe were a bit tenuous, I thought!

In the evening, to celebrate Asa’s birthday, we joined him, Gideon, Aaron and Jodi for our final meal out. Happy birthday, Asa!

Thanks again to Jodi for the picture.

We rose at 3am. Yes, there is such a time. Aaron kindly drove us to the airport before going back to bed.

Anchorage to Seattle to Reykjavic to Manchester. Three flights, no major issues although again, the three of us were separated in the cabin.

At one airport, we sat beside a vending machine selling accessories for iPhones etc. I said to Liesel that if I ever needed a floggle toggle for my phone, I too would wait until I was in an airport and could buy it from a machine. Liesel didn’t know what a floggle toggle was, and all I could think of was, it’s a thingy, a wossname, a wotsit. But where does ‘floggle toggle’ come from? I was surprised to see it’s from the old radio series The Navy Lark, which I listened to on Sunday lunchtimes in the 1960s.

Sitting in Seattle’s South terminal was a strange experience, having been in the frozen north for so long. The Sun was streaming in, and I for one was looking for a seat in the shade.

From the plane itself, I was able to do some sightseeing. The sky was perfectly clear.

On this long flight, I did have three seats to myself and was able to catch a couple of hours of sleep.

Having the window seat, I was able to take pictures of the Aurora Borealis. The best photo includes Orion, which I am very pleased with.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, from a few rows behind, Liesel was also taking pictures of the Aurora.

Even though it was -7° when we landed at Keflavik International Airport, Iceland, I was glad to walk to the bus in my shirt sleeves, it had been ridiculously hot during the flight and the little ventilators couldn’t cope. We always enjoy the bus ride in Iceland from aeroplane to terminal.

One day, we’ll probably spend more time in Iceland, but the worst, burnt, bitterest coffee ever, here today, wasn’t a good selling point.

Flight number three took us straight into sunrise before arriving at Manchester.

And what a wonderful sight this was, B&Q Stockport, a shop that we’ve managed to avoid during our time living in Manchester.

Typical Manc weather welcomed us, a bit dull, a bit grey, but so much warmer than Anchorage had been. Glad to be home. Helen reported that she’s not faring much better down under. From the local paper: NSW weather: Wet and drab start to summer for NSW. There is no end in sight from the damaging storms and heavy rain that lashed Sydney over the weekend, with more forecast for the first week of summer.

And now we’re back to normal, slowly adapting to our new time zone, but never quite having enough sleep.

We joined a couple of walks this week, and I went into Manchester to donate another armful. Having listened to the phone conversation from the girl sitting next to me on the bus home, I’m glad I didn’t make the effort to visit the Christmas Market in Manchester. It sounds hectic, far too many people, some items far too expensive.

Best of all, haha, is that I am able to continue watching the old, classic Doctor Who series on BBC iPlayer. But I am aware that I have reached the point where I gave up on it the first time round, because it was becoming stupid. In modern parlance, it jumped the shark. But I shall persevere…

Three Concerts and a Nokia

On a typical day, I drag myself out of bed much later than everyone else. I can get up early if I have to, if something exciting is occurring, but usually, I wake up, listen to a podcast or two and drift off again.

Liesel goes out for more walks than I manage, at the moment. Once, she joined a group as far away as Greenfield, the other side of Oldham. No, I’d not heard of it before, either.

The technical challenge of the week was to clear all my personal data from my old Nokia phone. Restore to factory settings. It wasn’t difficult, once the phone was charged up.

It says it’s deleting data. And it did indeed take a few minutes. A quick check however revealed that all my photos, all my music, all my contacts were still stored on the phone.

Later on, I showed Martha this old phone, claiming it was my new one. She laughed: somehow she recognised it as an old Victorian artefact. She and William were round at ours, making flowers from felt, amongst other activities.

After a pretty disappointing Summer, Autumn isn’t looking much better. The wind and the rain are definitely winning. So much wind, that many trees have been uprooted in this area. And so much rain, there are floods in some parts of the country.

We came across this branch on our walk near Kenworthy Lane Woods. Leslie was with me and a fairly large group, while Liesel was being treated by her physiotherapist. It was nice to see a little bit of colour too. Some leaves are turning red, yellow or brown, the shades of Autumn, but even that seems to be a slow process this year.

A few weeks ago, I played tracks from Tom Hingley’s new album The Grand Mal on my radio show, as Album of the Week. Imagine my surprise therefore when he announced a show in Manchester to officially launch the album. I went along to offer my support, at the small but perfectly formed venue that is The Castle Hotel.

Support was provided by Harrison Rimmer whose set was longer than most support acts.

Tom and his band played through the whole album, but nothing else, not his older songs and nothing from the Inspiral Carpets. It was good to see him again, it’s been a while. His wife Kelly was there too, but I didn’t speak to her this time.

Less than twenty-four hours later, we were all back in Manchester for another concert. This time, we went to the Bridgewater Hall to see the Hallé Orchestra playing Top of the Classics.

Before the show, we had to eat. Our first choice of eaterie could let us have a table, but we wouldn’t be able to order food for 45 minutes. So we went over the road to HOME, where for the second time ever, I had a margherita and a margarita together.

The show was brilliant, Leslie enjoyed it too, tapping her feet and clapping along to some well-known classics and a couple of lesser-known tunes. Apparently, my humming along was a little louder than I realised.

Zeb Soanes, Hallé Orchestra conducted by Simon Bell

The narrator was Zeb Soanes who I remember from reading the Shipping Forecast for many years on Radio 4. He now presents a show on Classic FM. And if we thought the conductor was exuberant, he had nothing on the first violinist. I think he must have had ants in his pants.

So, two late nights in a row in Manchester, something my old carcass isn’t really used to any more.

So of course, I went out again just a few days later. I bought tickets for Tom Robinson way back in February. And for a while, I thought we’d miss the show because we’d be in Alaska. Luckily (?!) I became ill and we had to postpone the trip. Tom and the band peformed songs from the very first two Tom Robinson Band albums, Power in the Darkness and TRB2. This was a return visit for me to Band on the Wall. Last time, there were seats. This time, they expected 450 of us mainly old blokes to stand for three hours. I went upstairs and found a seat. I was further away from the stage, so the photos aren’t that good, but at least I was sitting down!

Tonight’s support act was someone from Nottingham, Rob Green, who Tom got to know via his BBC Introducing show on 6 Music. He was very good, funny and entertaining.

Tom was genuinely delighted to see so many people here, some of us younger than his 74 years of age. He says there are three things he doesn’t like about getting old. He has to print out some of the lyrics. Then he has to wear glasses so he can read the lyrics. And, er…

I took a taxi home and arrived before I would have reached the bus station if I’d chosen to walk there. But I’m ahead of myself. Three gigs in six days is quite an achievement.

This week, we took the children to Let Loose, another soft play space over in Hazel Grove. Liesel and Leslie had another WI meeting to attend in the evening, so no family meal at home. Today was the first of October, but Let Loose was already decorated and set up for Halloween.

We had a snack here too before taking the children home.

I glanced at the never-ending To-Do list and picked something out at random. I remember a nice, warm day in May, 1968, when we at school were all escorted out on to the sports field. The professional photographer was here to take a picture of the whole school. The photo is over a metre long. Of course, it was never framed and instead, it’s been stored, rolled up, bashed and battered in a box, for over half a century. I decided it was time to pass it onto the school’s own archivist. But not before I took pictures of the aged old photo.

What I found sad was that I spent at least five years of my life with these foks and now, I can only name about five or six of them. I wonder whatever happened to my old scool buddies?

I think there must have been something in the air in Wythenshawe on the day we wandered around the pond in Painswick Park. Maybe there are now some tasty morsels in the water. Most of the geese, at some point, stuck their derrières in the air for that perfect photo opportunity.

Arguably the Craftwork of the Week award goes to Liesel for her beautiful and functional Mug Cosy.

After I submitted revised repeats for a few weeks, I managed to cobble together a brand new show this week for Wythenshawe Radio, WFM 97.2. Having been to so many concerts recently, the theme of the show was Concerts. Concerts and Gigs! You can listen to it right here, if you need something on in the background for a couple of hours.

Changes

Helen and Brent returned from Wales having not tried a single Welsh cake. Can you believe it? We all met up in Yara, a restaurant in Cheadle that I’d not been to before. It was not only our opportunity to say farewell to the travellers, but an early birthday celebration for Liesel. Helen and Brent were scheduled to fly home the following morning, Sunday, while Liesel, Leslie and I were scheduled to fly to Alaska on Wednesday. The children had made a card for their Oma, which was displayed on the table for a short while. I think this must be how the servers knew it was Liesel’s birthday, so having all decided we were too full for dessert, they sang Happy Birthday while bringing over a huge slice of chocolate cake which saw Liesel’s eyes almost pop out on stalks.

It didn’t last long, though: it would have been very rude for the rest of us not to help Liesel consume the confection. The waiters had several extra forks to wash up afterwards.

When Helen and Brent were not quite half way back to Sydney, Liesel, Leslie and I ventured into Manchester for a gig. I’ve wanted to see Camille O’Sullivan for a long time, and I booked tickets as soon as the show was announced, back in January. I didn’t know then that Leslie would be with us, so a couple of days earlier, I went online hastily to purchase a third ticket.

We parked easily, close to the venue, Band on the Wall, just a five minute walk in the drizzle. Best of all, there were seats. Not like the last time we’d been to this venue and witnessed a fight between other, drunk, audience members, but that’s another story.

The stage was well decorated with various characters and I thought, that’s about right for Camille, yes.

The show was very good, she performed a lot of songs by Shane McGowan and told us stories abouit him and Sinéad O’Connor. We remembered Jacques Brel (Amsterdam), Kirsty MacColl (In These Shoes) and David Bowie (Where are we now? and Quicksand), and I sang along to their songs sotto voce.

At one point, Camille channeled Grace Jones, dancing with a hula hoop.

I noticed that I wasn’t the oldest person in the audience. I don’t think Liesel’s Mom was the oldest either. I could see now why they’d put seats out for all the seniors.

Feargal the accompanyist was really good too, playing keyboards and joining in with a couple of duets, including Sinéad and Shane’s Haunted and, of course, a part of Fairytale of New York. The audience joined in too, quietly.

More medical madness: after a telephone consultation, I made more appointments for next week, grrr. As a result, we’ve decided to postpone our trip to Alaska for a few weeks. I think this decision has relieved both Liesel and myself of a tonne of anxiety. Phew!

The highlight of the week was collecting Martha and William from school, and bringing them home to indulge in a variety of crafts. William is enjoying helping Oma with the 1000-piece Pokémon jigsaw puzzle. He knows all the characters and their characteristics. Liesel just knows there are pink ones and yellow ones…

Meanwhile, I helped Martha make a multi-coloured pom-pom but of course, I didn’t get a photo of the finished item, which is now pride of place in Martha’s bedroom. Or maybe tossed into the back of a drawer.

Jenny and Liam joined us for dinner, Indian food, very flavourful and not too hot and spicy, of course.

On another, sunny but cool day, we walked over to Northenden Community Library which is now located in St Wilfrid’s Church Hall, so just 15 minutes away as the crow waddles. Did we walk that extra little bit down the road to the coffee shop? Nope. Straight home for a restorative sit-down and breather.

I dropped Leslie and Liesel off in Didsbury so they could join a walk with the WI. I then drove over to Wythenshawe with a view to joining the regular Thrive walk. In the end, the distance I walked was minimal. I feel much better on the whole, yes, but my stamina, my oomph, is still not there. If I were a toy, a few AAA batteries would sort me out.

I look forward to the day when my daily step count is once again in five figures. Here’s a tip: never, ever, ever get ill.