That light at the end of that Covid tunnel? It’s a bit brighter now, we are getting there. I decided to walk to the venue, it was a nice day after all, plus I would see parts of Wythenshawe I’d not seen close-up before. Woodhouse Park Lifestyle Centre was the destination. Yes, I was excited to be receiving the second of my two Pfizer vaccinations. I was also looking forward to accepting another chocolate biscuit, of course.
As the tram passed by, I mentally celebrated impending increased freedom. My Senior Bus Pass has arrived too, and in three weeks time, when my immunity is at its best, I’ll at least be thinking about taking a bus somewhere. Plus, trams and trains are a possibility. Our world is growing wider.
The street market is obviously not as extensive as it used to be (yet), and again, the possibility of visiting markets outside, followed by shops indoors, is quite attractive. And I am by no means a big shopping fan, as any female in my life will confirm.
I haven’t mentioned coffee for a while, but a cappuccino is a very nice cup of coffee. And for children, you can buy a babyccino, which is just warm, frothy milk. Our new coffee shop Boxx2Boxx offers beverages for dogs, a puppyccino. And you’d think that would be it. Oh no. I saw this advert and did a double take.
Carpuccino’s? I like a good pun, but this is off the scale, the wrong end of the scale. It’s not even a drink, just a daft name for a car-washing service. I know our vehicle deperately needs a clean, especially since people began asking us whether they could borrow it to grow potatoes on, but washing a car in old coffee dregs doesn’t seem right.
I arrived at the Lifestyle Centre fifteen minutes early: yes, I still walk faster than Google Maps gives me credit for. The volunteer outside said to go straight in. I was processed very quickly, being passed from volunteer to direction-giving volunteer like an extremely valuable pass-the-parcel, only instead of removing a layer of clothing each time, all I did in the end was roll up a sleeve to receive the jab. The small scratch was more noticeable this time. I’m not complaining, but I did have this image of the needle being screwed into the muscle rather than being pushed in, this time. No chocolate biscuit, but that’s alright. I now feel even more invincible than I was before.
While sitting for the required fifteen minutes in case of sudden, unexpected problems, I spoke to both Jenny and Liesel. My initial plan to walk home again was changed. Instead, Liesel collected me and we drove straight over to Jenny’s with the millionaire’s shortbread that Liesel had baked. Well, most of it.
As soon as I got out of the car, I was attacked by William and Martha. In a well-planned ambush, they both got me with their water pistols. Pistols? Water blasters, each of which semingly holds several gallons of ammunition, most of which got me with pinpoint accuracy.
Yes, of course I ran away down the road like the cowardly wimp I am, but that didn’t stop them. No, I didn’t mind getting soaked, it was a warm day, and I was feeling quite buoyant from the jab.
We spent some time in the garden with the children, which is always a delight. Liam was working in the shop, serving his customers, answering the helpline, taking orders and everything.
It was ridiculously nice being in a garden, lying on the grass, chewing the fat, not quite nodding off in the Sun, listening to the children playing and laughing and chatting. Still no physical contact, of course, but there is a bit more flexibility in our social distancing and interactions.
Unexpectedly, I had some annoying side-effects following the second jab. I couldn’t sleep that night, but certainly made up for it the following night. And in between, I was lethargic, achy and stiff and I had to force myself to eat. 24-hour flu? Something like that, and yes, just for one day, thank goodness. The site of the jab was sore for a few days too, compared with exactly 4 hours for the first one.
Back in Northenden, there is colour in unexpected places. The planters on Palatine Road are a blaze of colour.
And the aforementioned Boxx2Boxx seems to be doing well, attracting visitors from far and wide, including one day, most of the Manchester City women’s football team. Whom I instantly recognised, of course. No. not really.
We had a so-called Pink Moon this week, when the Moon is closer to Earth while full. Well, as usual, we didn’t see it, too much cloud cover for a few nights.
We drove to Dunham Massey on what turned out to be a cooler day than anticipated. The wind was chilly but that didn’t put us off walking nearly 5 miles. It threatened to rain, too, but we kept going. Another visitor was feeding a deer, no idea what the food item was, but it reminded us of Nara in Japan, where the deer bow to people in expectation of being fed.
My new app, the one that tells me what birdsong I can hear, is remarkable. It listens to the sound, then tells me all the possible birds it might be, mostly ones I’ve already thought of. It’s certainly not as slick nor as accurate as Shazam is for music.
On our long walk around this National Trust venue, we witnessed young children playing football and one little girl jumping in a ‘puddle’, only there was no water in it. So not really a puddle at all, I suppose, but what do you call the muddy indentation where a puddle might form when it rains? Another one for the philosophers of the world. We saw a couple of white deer in the distance, which just goes to show how well camouflaged conventionally coloured deer are. Even those whose bottoms look like badgers’ faces.
In domestic news, our shower blocks up fairly often, especially with our copious, long, lockdown hair falling out. So I recently acquired a gadget which I can put down the drainage hole to grab the offending blockage and pull it out. There’s a gripper that opens when you press the button at the other end. Does it work? Not with our shower drain, no. Because of some clever design, two inches down, there’s a flat surface which covers most of the width of the pipe, so water has to drain around this disc’s edge. My new gadget isn’t flexible enough to go down and round this tight corner. So, back to chemicals it is.
Have we tried a plunger? A plunger would possibly work if we could get a good enough seal, which we can’t because of the carefully installed nobbles that hold the drainage cover in place! Stupid design details that just aren’t practical. Put the nobbles on the underside of the cover and recesses in the shower floor, then we could at least try to use a plunger.
Also, we now need a new DVD player. The old one has been reluctant to open its drawer for some time. So after threatening it yet again with replacement if it didn’t cooperate, we had to resort to violence. I inserted a plastic tool to force the drawer open. That worked, but in the process some ratchetty noise told us, or at least strongly implied, that the drawer would never again close properly. RIP, not so faithful DVD player.
Other than that, we need a new dishwasher because the old one has a door whose springs have snapped so it no longer glides gently open. When we forget, it drops to the floor and one day, the hinges are gonna snap, the door will crash on the floor, possibly with such force that it will fall off and crash through into the luxury apartment below. We’re hoping to hold out until we can afford to get the whole kitchen done, but we’ve already had to replace the washing machine.
So much for not being a fan of shopping: there are several expeditions in the pipeline by the looks of it.
I was pleased to have a guest on my Radio Northenden show this week: Rizwana from Bluebird Care here in South Manchester told us about what they do from day to day. Other than that, I played some fabulous charity records. Catch up here, or listen here on Wythenshawe Radio Wednesday at 7pm.