I know there are a hundred and one reasons we should be boycotting Nestlé, but I don’t think any will will match the majotr disappointment that I’ve suffered recently.
A few years ago, I started keeping the tin foil that wrapped 2-finger KitKats. Every week, I would wrap them together, and the still growing silver orb still takes pride of place on my desk. Martha was fascinated by it, but I had to stop her from unpeeling the dozens of layers.
Aluminium can be recycled, as can the paper sleeves these KitKats came in. No more. Tey are now wrapped in plastic foil. And they seem very proud.
Our local council doesn’t recycle this kind of plastic, but, fortunately, we’ve found somewhere else to take it. We just trust that it is being recycled properly, somehow, and isn’t just finding its way to the ocean via a more circuitous route.
In medical news, I’ve had cough which has gone on well past it’s best before date. Normally, I know such an annoying tickly cough will last about a week. This one just won’t let go, very disappointing.
The baddest news of the week though is that our shower has leaked, so we have wet carpets, and amy water-based emergency is my worst nightmare.
[lots of words omitted, p.o.a.]
As recommended, I ordered some drain unpluggers from. I used to use a bent wire coat hanger to remove hair from the shower drain. But the shower drain here is a strange design. I’m hoping the lastic unplugger is flexible enough to go around the corner.
But on delivery, I was disappointed to see just one, not three, of these devices. Yes, the Amazon description does say “one”, but there are three in the picture and I usually rely on the picture.
And we didn’t win the lottery this week, again, but as Liesel said, maybe we should buy a ticket ourselves rather than relying on the generosity of strangers.
But it hasn’t all been disappointments this week. Oh no. We had a great time at William’s birthday party last weekend, with forty children, at least one parent each, and some with a sibling. The entertainer Chris had the children in the palm of his hand for two hours.
Even before the party started, William was running round the hall at a hundred miles an hour, and Chris told him to calm down, he’d run out of energy. But he never did.
What I hadbn’t anticipated was that each of William’s forty guests would give him a present. I think he’s now planning to open his own toy shop.
It was a good, fun afternoon, although I was disappointed not to receive a goody bag at the end of the afternoon. I don’t think any of the grown-ups did, which doesn’t seem right to me.
Liesel and I dined at Greens in Didsbury that night, it’s been a while since we were there last.
One evening, I used Liesel as a guniea, to test out my new toy, a pair of small lapel microphones that will allow me to record chats for the radio show. Well, it’s got to be better than holding the phone up to the microphone which doesn’t always give decent results! So I have a quarter of an hour recorded of me and Liesel talking nonsense, but the good news is, the sound quality is great, even if the subject matter isn’t.
Tuesday night on Boom Radio, Diana Luke played some songs for me and Liesel which was lovely, in the post 11pm slot called Luke of Love. Yes, of course I recorded it for posterity and for the grandchildren!
Our weekly Wednesday well-being walk was well attended this week, there were eleven of us traipsing through the woods, and even that big black dog coming the other way looked intimidated. It’s the end of November, but it’s been mild, and the plants are confused.
We left the raspberries for other people to enjoy.
The following was the day of the great flood, which left me tharn for the day, I didn’t leave the flat, I hardly moved at all. In the eving, Liesel went out to join her knitting friends while I stayed in to watch a fascinating chat between Jon Ronson and Miranda Sawyer, thanks to the British Library.
Jon spoke about the books he’s written, which I’ve enjoyed over the years, and his podcast series, which are always fascinating.
But I made up for my lazy Thursday by getting up at stupid o’clock the following day to take the car in to be fixed.
An hour later, I walked back to collect the car. I am embarrassed to say that the problem was easily fixed by the turn of a knob on the dashboard. Nothing wrong with the fuses or anything else.
The plumber came to look at the shower on Friday and he’ll be back next week to give us a quote and get it fixed.
Liesel and I went for a walk in the afternoon and were surprised and delighted to see that the motorway works by Riverside Park seem to have finished. The fences have gone and, best of all, two picnic tables and benches have been erected when the old bench used to be, a long, long time ago.
Late in the afternoon, we drove over to Martha and William’s school for a Christmas fair. We were mainly there to watch Martha and her friends perform. Firstly, in Spanish, there were two songs wishing us Feliz Navidad.
She then took a starring rôle in a short drama, playing the part of Elf number 1. Unfortunately, they were performing outside in a space that wasn’t very well illuminated.
So the best photo of Martha is this one of she and her co-stars in the Green Room, I mean, in William’s classroom.
Liesel suggested a show of acoustic music so that’s what we have this week, on Mick’s Music Mix.
I’m off now for a jolly good cough, some cough sweets and a packet of 40 Woodbines. I banished myself to the spare bed last night and I’m going striaght there tonight. Liesel doesn’t need me coughing up lungs right next to her.
It wasn’t really much of a cliff-hanger, was it? I was in the middle of a visit to The Museum of Science and Industry last time. The main reason being to buy a birthday present for William. I had a quick look around the museum before walking back to HOME Manchester where I met Liesel. Liesel who had been having another crochet lesson. I think she’s hooked.
For a moment I thought I’d missed a hailstorm, but this was the only evidence for such a phenomenon on this glorious day. Ice ice baby.
At HOME, I enjoyed the wildlife in the gallery, we’ve very rarely seen foxes since we moved to Manchester.
There are monkeys too, straw bales and all sorts of rustic items. We’re invited to decorate our own twigs too: no, I didn’t do anything rude. The Fieldnotes exhibition lasts until the end of January so if you’re visiting Manchester, go and have a look. The coffee here isn’t too bad either.
It was a good day for a wander around Manchester, so that’s exactly what we did. Next to the Central Library, the huge Santa seemed incongruous towering over the rightly vocal Iranian protestors.
The Christmas Markets are dotted all over the place in the city centre, and they certainly attract a lot of people. A couple of times, we felt so intimidated by the crowds, we took a detour.
After the pandemic (and yes, I’m aware, Covid is still a big deal), it is good to see so many people out and about, but maybe we’re just not used to being hemmed in any more.
Torrential rain greeted us the next day and I played the part of the cat in that Robert Heinlein story, the one that wandered round the house looking through all the windows, seeking out some decent weather. I was looking for a rainbow though. I knew there had to be one, with bright sunshine one way and dark clouds the other. In the end, I tracked it down. From our living room though, it was hidden by the oak tree.
We were a party of twelve in all, at the restaurant chosen by William to celebrate his fifth birthday. William joined Martha and cousins Annabel and Emily walking up and down the ‘cat walk’, the floor adjacent to our long table. Hands on hips, swaying and everything. A model 5-year old.
The only negative was when William was attacked by Spiderman, but he took it in his stride. And he was delighted with the cake, baked and decorated by Mummy and Daddy.
And of course, Martha fully engaged with the cocktails.
Back at home, we think we have sloes growing in the hedge. Maybe we should make sloe gin, but we’re not 100% sure that’s what they are. I should ask our horticultural correspondents.
It was our turn again this week to collect the children from school. At home, their Oma helped them make their own pillows. They both operated the sewing machine very well, and the pillows now have pride of place.
It was the day before Thanksgiving and Liesel cooked up a real feast for us all, nut roast, sprouts, carrots, special mashed potatoes, gravy, apple pie and pecan pie with ice cream plus a bottle of wine. Sorry you weren’t invited as well. And I think we’re all pleased that the US President hasn’t thought to pardon a nut roast along with a turkey every Thanksgiving.
It was such a nice day on Friday that we just had to go for a pasty, I mean, go for a walk at Quarry Bank Mill. Yes, the pasty was very nice, very spicy. And wandering around as we approach the end of November, it was surprising to see the harvest of strawberry.
Some of the trees are beginning to feel the Winter chill though, so the volunteer knitters have dressed them appropriately.
Who else can see ET in this tree?
I’ve glad to say we didn’t get lost as we walked around the grounds. That would have been embarrassing this week especially, since Directions was the theme of the show for Wythenshawe Radio. Not on FM though, on this occasion.
The studio in Wythenshawe Forum is being refurbished and I’m hope to be able to go along and have a go with it sometime.
Some people have too much time on their hands. Not only do they do pointless stuff that takes up a large proportion of the day, but they film it and upload it to Tik-Tok or Instagram for the rest of the world to see. I watched a guy (I’m sure it was a guy) sharpen a pencil with a knife, then sculpt something from just the point. There was someone who drew a very sophisticated doodle, freehand but with remarkable geometrical accuracy. Then there was the man who walked to the front of a queue of obviously desperate gentlemen. After a while, the man at the head of the line let the newcomer in. He then proceeded to pick up the Gents’ door, which was just leaning against the wall, and walk away with it. Whoever devised the advert depicting a Q-tip being forced to compress the wax in someone’s ear just created something that I spent less than half a second on. Still don’t know what the ad was for. I don’t know how long it took that bloke (I’m sure it was a bloke) to slightly bend and stand up playing cards from several packs so that they topple over like dominoes when the fisrt one is pushed over. It’s a marvellous effect, very entertaining and, apart from videos of cats, exactly what the internet was designed for. All those illegal websites that they don’t want you to know about. I’m not going to risk visiting any of those potential virus-mongers, thank you. An oblivious pedestrian being hit by a tram wasn’t something we need to see. No, if I solve your ridiculous puzzle, it doesn’t mean I have an IQ of 190. No, I still don’t understand NFTs and I still have no interest in cryptocurrency. Those facts you guarantee I did not know? Yes I did. Or you’re wrong. I wonder how many attempts it took the golfer before she got that hole in one? I really doubt anyone is owed thousands of pounds if they worked in Sainsbury’s or Morrison’s during the last six or seven years. Out of context clips from Friends aren’t really that funny. And thanks but I’ll be saving 100% on Black Friday since I won’t be taking up any of your ridiculous offers at all. Yes, it’s so easy to laugh at the people making these short videos. Then I realise I’ve wasted hours and hours just watching them. No wonder I have such a long list of things to do.
Sad to report that the weather is becoming more normal for the time of year. That is, colder and with lots and lots of rain, to the point where we’ve already had the first flood warnings here in Manchester.
Despite this, Liesel and I had a very enjoyable walk along a stretch of the Mersey that I’d not been to before, near Heaton Mersey. We parked by the Riverside Gym, crossed a dangerous road by a bridge and commented on the well-made path by the river, part of the Trans-Pennine Trail.
I am very grateful that this dog didn’t shake itself over me. It has happened before, so now when I see a pooch having a dip, I keep a very cautious eye on it so that I can make a hasty retreat, if necessary.
Speaking of floods, I wondered if this couple knew something we didn’t?
We spotted a fully laden apple tree but the pickable fruit was gone, and I was dissuaded from climbing the fence to reach the more challenging apples.
The thought occurred that at least an apple scrumped from a wild tree won’t contain any plam oil, which seems to be ubiquitous, in just about every other food item. Even when they claim it’s from a sustainable source.
A local lady was walking her dog and while we were looking at the map, she asked if we were lost. We weren’t, but just making sure we weren’t going too far off course, so soon before sunset. Hearing Liesel’s accent, she asked where she was from. Alaska. Oh, I have a niece in Wisconsin, she said. Then, looking towards me, what about you? I’m a southerner, I said proudly, happy to elaborate on being asked a follow-up question, but all she said was, ‘Oh’.
I’m sure we’ll revisit Mersey Vale Nature Park on another occasion. Possibly on the day we walk all the way from home, long the river, to Stockport. But not any time soon if this rain keeps on coming like this.
Our regular Wednesday walk took us through the woods which I think we expected to be much more muddy. The bed of fallen leaves was quite nice to walk on. The other day when I walked that way, I saw a young lady picking up golden leaves, the more pristine ones, unsullied by human footfall. I wondered whether she was going to create some wonderful work of art. What a shame that I, an old bloke, feel awkward about engaging a young lady on her own, out and about, in conversation.
Back at Boxx 2 Boxx, the café has been decked out to resemble the jungle. Our absent host Jill is taking part in the ITV game show I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here.
I don’t know whether the crocodile is in honour of Jill falling out of her hammock on her first day in the Australian jungle, where the show is filmed.
It is now less than forty days to Christmas. It comes round quicker every year doesn’t it?
This tree is fenced off in Wythenshawe Forum which I visited one evening for a meeting with many other Wythenshawe Radio volunteers. It was nice to put faces to the various voices: some matched my preconceptions, some didn’t look anything like I’d imagined. Did it occur to me take pictures of these new real-life friends? Nope. Sorry.
In medical news, Liesel had a bionic tooth fitted. She had to rest for the rest of the day, so it was down to me to visit John Lewis to buy a couple of crochet hooks. Mission accomplished. As I passed by the north pole, I decided not to visit Santa.
I was still half asleep when Liesel left to visit her crochet class. Half? More like 90%. But when I did eventually stir, I made haste to the bus stop where I waited a mere 30 seconds for the bus to take me into Manchester. This never happens. I usually see the back of the bus disappear up the road as I turn the corner.
It was seasonably cool as I walked to the Museum of Science and Industry, following a less than optimum route. One day, I will know Manchester like the back of my hand. One day. Straight to the café at the museum, of course.
I enjoyed my Middle Eastern Meze Wrap but I checked the ingredients and yes, of course, as expected, there was plam oil.
It’s been here for a while, but it’s still shocking to see something that I once owned in a museum.
My BBC Microcomputer was delivered on April 1st 1982. It finally gave up the ghost about fifteen years later in the middle of a ten-pin bowling game that Helen was playing. I tried to fix it with spares from another machine. However my soldering skills were and are rubbish, so I ended up with two totally useless computers. Who would have guessed that less than thirty years later, we would be wasting hours gazing at the small computer screens that are our smart phones? Smart phones, not-so-smart users.
Visit to Manchester to be continued next time. Will it rain? Will I meet anyone I know? Tune in next week for another exciting episode!
On this week’s radio show, I played some foreign language covers of popular English songs including a few suggested by the listener, for which I am very grateful. Catch up on over two hours of Mick’s Music Mix here:
In other news, I am pleased to report that our Michaelmas or Thanksgiving cactus (formerly thought to be a Christmas cactus) is blooming at exactly the right time again.
I haven’t fully investigated the physics and the maths behind the phenomenon but I know from experience that time does not pass at the same rate for everyone. In the morning after I wake up and can’t be bothered to get up straightaway, I close my eyes for ten minutes. Yet when I open them, a full hour and a half has passed by in the rest of the world. Somehow during that ten minutes, I must have been travelling somewhere at very nearly the speed of light, yet I have no recollection of the journey. From which I can only deduce that travelling at such high velocities has a deleterious affect on ones memory.
Let’s go back in time. A couple of weeks ago, we visited Quarry Bank Mill. At the time, I wasn’t allowed to post this photo of a two-headed Liesel.
But this week, I didn’t bother asking 😉
We went for a walk along the river towards Didsbury, after some torrential rain, so I thought I’d go for an arty shot of my wife in a puddle.
After crouching down for the shot, which admittedly isn’t all that good, I oohed and ahhed as I stood back up. Clicked the knees back into place and carried on. It was getting dark as we returned home.
Probably the most exciting event this week was our acquisition of a new, smart TV set. It has about as small a screen as you can get these days, but it’s still bigger than our previous set. The only thing wrong with that one is that, for the last 15 years or so, we haven’t had reliable stereo. The left speaker doesn’t make a sound most of the time, but occasionally leaps into action, making both of us jump.
But now, we have an up to date TV, with access to thousands of TV and radio channels via several applications. It was easy enough to connect and set up. But just a few days later, it displayed an error message that made no sense at all. Technology’s great when it works.
I can now send pictures from my phone to the TV, so I took advantage of this feature in another attempt at an arty photo, this one, a picture of the TV showing what the phone sees as it looks at the TV ad inf.
Martha and William enjoyed a fireworks display and a funfair recently. I think the dodgems was a highlight.
More driving madness ensued on the day we collected them from school. Loads of traffic, roadworks and all the traffic lights were against us.
Fortunately, Liam was able to nip down the road so that the children weren’t left stranded, alone, at school, sitting in the middle of the playground. Back at home, for some reason, both William and Martha wanted to have a bath. It’s been a while and it’s interesting to see how much bigger they are now, in the tub, and how seldom we had to request them to try and keep most of the water inside.
William was playing with and styling his hair, monitoring progress in his reflection.
The third largest shopping centre in the UK is the Trafford Centre in Manchester. You might think we’d be there on a regular basis, for all our retail needs. But no. We paid our first visit since well before the first lockdown, in order to pick up a book from Waterstones.
After taking a bag of old CDs to Oxfam in Didsbury, I had a nice breakfast while Liesel went off for coffee with the ladies of the WI.
Oh no, what’s occurring? This week’s radio show was entitled Oh, Oh, Oh! Two hours of songs that include the word Oh! With help from Martha, William, the Two Ronnies and George Takei.
Or if you’re close enough to the transmitter in Wythenshawe, listen to the repeat broadcast on Wythenshawe Radio WFM 97.2 at 10pm Wednesday.
We booked tickets for a show in London quite a while ago. Since then, we’ve been planning a whole weekend. For various reasons, we decided not to go by train nor to drive. Instead, we travelled by National Express coach. This was a first for Liesel, and I’ve not used their services since well before Liesel came on the scene. We took a bus into Manchester and found the coach station easily enough.
This shows how long it is since I’ve travelled by coach. In the coach station, I was expecting to be engulfed in a miasma of cigarette smoke and diesel fumes from coaches with the engines left running unnecessarily. But no, it was quite a pleasant atmosphere.
The coach stopped a couple of times on the way to London, but we still arrived at Victoria Coach Station 20 minutes early. A real bonus after being on board for over five hours.
From Victoria to Putney was quite easy and we checked into our accommodation.
The gig was at The Half Moon, Putney, and I knew exactly where it was. Just a short walk from our hotel, over Putney Bridge and along the road.
On the way, we bumped into Helen and Steve. What are the chances? A little further along the road and there it was. The Half Moon. On the wrong side of the street. Yep, I knew exactly where it was, so why it’s crossed the road, I don’t know.
We dined here before the show. And I met Alan in real life, someone I was friends with online until I left Facebook.
When we took our place at the table right in front of the stage, I also saw Sue, although we have met before.
So what was the show? ‘Those Were The Days’ as performed by Jessica Lee Morgan with Chris on bass and Paul Cuddeford on guitar.
Jessica covered songs written by or made famous by female musicians from 1968 to 1976. Two hours of brilliant songs, beautifully performed. Yes, of course I sang along but I wasn’t pelted with too many rotten tomatoes.
We enjoyed the late night walk back over he bridge and had a purple night’s sleep, as advertised.
Meeting someone at Liverpool Street Station is hard, we just don’t know it well enough, and certainly not the meeting points. So we agreed to meet Elakshi at a Starbucks. While waiting, we went next door to Pickwick’s for a nicer coffee.
Our friend Monica in Anchorage has a niece who’s studying here in the UK for a few months. We showed Elakshi round some of the more quirky sites in the city of London, including the Sculpture in the City trail.
Cosmos, 2018 is composed of three 3.5 metre-high slatted structures which lean into and support each other, painted black on the exterior and sprayed in a coloured gradient within. An imposing physical structure, the work encourages both a physical and aesthetic response. Says Rothschild: “The external piece is quite forbidding. Its black shiny surface is like a set of disruptive gates.”
This was number 8 on the trail, but we managed to miss a few. All were interesting in their own way, even if it was easy to walk by and miss some without realising.
Leadenhall Market was looking quite tentacular today, and not just because of the stars painted on the ceiling.
Our walk took us to Spitalfields Market where I just about resisted the temptation to look at the vinyl records on sale. We had lunch here in the crowded market before Elakshi had to head off for some proper study.
Liesel and I then made our way to Covent Garden, yes, another market, where we planned to buy absolutely nothing. Except Liesel was thinking of a particular clothes shop she wanted to visit. In one of the art shops, there was a portrait of David Bowie. One that moved as you walk by. Spooky.
On to Leicester Square and beyond to Trafalgar Square where I was pleased to see a new item on the 4th plinth.
Antelope restages a photograph of Baptist preacher and pan-Africanist John Chilembwe and European missionary John Chorley as a sculpture.
The photograph was taken in 1914 at the opening of Chilembwe’s new church in Nyasaland, now Malawi. Chilembwe has his hat on, defying the colonial rule that forbade Africans from wearing hats in front of white people. A year later, he led an uprising against colonial rule. Chilembwe was killed and his church was destroyed by the colonial police.
On the plinth, Chilembwe is larger than life, while Chorley is life-size. By increasing his scale, the artist elevates Chilembwe and his story, revealing the hidden narratives of underrepresented peoples in the history of the British Empire in Africa, and beyond.
At this point, we still hadn’t decided what to do in the evening. A film? A play? A musical? Another gig? In the end, we thought a comedy show would go down well and we spent a funny couple of hours in the company of Maisie Adam at Leicester Square Theatre.
The show finished early-ish so we decided to wander over to the South Bank for something to eat. You can’t go wrong at Wagamama. Oh yes you can. I chose a dish that I’ve had many times before but boy was it hot. Hot in the sense that it really stung my windburnt lips. And hot as in much more spicy than is usually the case. Phew. Once the steam stopped puffing out of my ears, I cooled my head down with a nice bowl of coconut ice cream. Phew indeed!
We went our separate ways on the Saturday. Liesel went south to spend the day with Rosie, walking from Surbiton via Kingston to Hampton Court along the towpath and having some giggly girly time together. Was I at all jealous? Well no, not at all, because I’d decided to pay a long overdue visit to the National Maritime Museam at Greenwich and then up the hill to the Observatory.
But as soon as I went outside, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. It was lovely and warm, verging on the muggy even, and the thought of sitting on buses and/or tube trains for hours to travel to Greenwich just wasn’t as attractive. Instead, I thought I’d walk part of the way and then maybe complete the journey on public transport. I headed in the direction of King’s Road and took in the sights and brought back some memories.
I passed by Parson’s Green, close to where I used to work in the mid-1980s. It hasn’t changed much. But another little patch of green is encouraging insects.
It’s always good to see birds of prey, especially in the middle of a large city.
I do feel sorry for this one though, tethered as it is to the roof of a glorified shoe shop.
Not all quirky sculptures are in the City of London.
It’s been nearly five decades since I downed a pint of beer in The World’s End pub. I decided not to revisit today, even though a small part of me wondered whether I’d bump into my old work colleague and drinking buddy Clive. But suppose I owed him money?
The World’s End second-hand book shop on King’s Road hasn’t changed much either. If anything, it’s even more crammed with stock so that potential customers have to move around one at a time, like chess pieces on a very crowded board. I wasn’t surprised that they didn’t have a copy of a book that I’ve been looking for for many years: The Nabob’s Garden by Frederica Bennett. I read it several times as a child but can remember nothing about it other than it had a green cover and no dust jacket.
I knew I was taking too much time ambling along King’s Road but I knew something was really wrong with the spacetime continuum when I looked at the clock over the road. The hands were spinning round very fast.
This place looked very different in the olden days…
Dave the artist still exhibits his own paintings on King’s Road in the Open Air Gallery. He’s very friendly, go and have a chat if you’re passing by.
I wandered by the old Chelsea Hospital and onto a street market, close to the Saatchi Gallery, where I had some lunch.
I thought I’d make use of the facilities at Peter Jones. But no. The Gents toilet was out of order and the nearest one was the accessible toilets. Downstairs.
I hope there’s another route to the accessible toilets, I wouldn’t want to bump down those stairs in my wheelchair.
And so to Sloane Square, where, a few days after she died, I saw the Princess of Wales standing outside the underground station. No dead people today, but a throbbing mass of living ones.
Do I get a train towards Greenwich? No. I decided to continue walking until I stopped. Through Eaton Square and onto the side entrances to Buckingham Palace. I know King Charles isn’t planning to live here for at least a few years, so it was good to see that services to the palace were being discommected.
Millions of people were loitering by the front gates of the palace on this cloudy afternoon but I was surprised by the brightness of the Victoria Monument’s golden angel.
Time for some birdwatching in St James’s Park. Don’t feed or touch the pelicans, says the sign. Well, I didn’t even see any, just Egyptians, pigeons, ducks, geese, swans (black and white) and squirrels. And more pigeons. With whom I did not share by cinnamon doughnut and coffee.
After leaving the park, I realised I ought to head back. I took a bus back to Putney, changed my clothes, then took another bus into Kingston.
Did I regret not making it to Greenwich? No, I had a fantastic walk and Greenwich and the museum will still be there next time. I also didn’t see much of the South Bank on this occasion, just Wagamama. Apart from a slight sense of disloyalty, I didn’t mind walking on the other side of the river this time.
I perambulated through Kingston, mostly familiar, but there have been some changes here, towards the river. The plan was to meet up with Liesel and Liesel’s cousin. Yes, her cousin Andi with her husband of just a few months Steve have moved to the UK, specifically to Richmond upon Thames.
I first met Andi and Steve on holiday in Hawaii ten or so years ago, when Helen and Adam and Jenny came too, not to mention Liesel’s extended family. We’ve also been with them to a few Dave Matthews concerts.
The waiters in the restaurant must have been rolling their eyes when after several attempts at taking our order, we still hadn’t stopped talking long enough to look at the menu.
In the end, we had a very pleasant and enjoyable meal, at Comptoir Libanais since you ask, after which they invited us back to their pad, a quick 65 bus ride away. I’m old enough to remember when the 65 went all the way to Chessington.
Their house is located in a very desirable location, close to the river, close to shops, close to the railway station. The pomegranate tree, as far as we know, is the only one in Richmond and it needs a bit of a trim, to be honest. Liesel and I left quite late but it was easy enough to get back to Putney, via Earls Court on the District Line.
And so our short stay in London comes to an end. At Victoria, we visited The Shakespeare for a late breakfast. Do you have a menu, I asked? We’ll bring a menu over when we’re open for food at twelve o’clock. I felt suitably chastised. No nut roast today so we settled for very disappointing nachos. I couldn’t drink too much beer knowing we’d be on the coach for five hours. Another long journey that passed quickly thanks to some podcasts and a book and some puzzles.
Somehow, the 43 bus from Manchester back to Northenden seemed really slow, stopping every thirty seconds…
Back to normal then? Well, nearly. I have picked up the cold that Liesel’s had for a few days. I hope I didn’t pass it on to Martha and William when we met up at Quarry Bank Mill.
In between climbing trees, and playing in the playground and walking and running through the woods and climbing muddy slopes, we didn’t do much here today.
During the week, we went for our usual walks, noticing it become cooler as time went on. We walked to Didsbury and noticed that at last, after far too long, we are now able to walk on the other side of the Mersey between Palatine Road and Northenden Bridge. That path has been off limits while they jack up the motorway, or something.
The radio show this week was based on Jessica’s show, Those Were The Days. I’d picked up the set list, asked all three musicians to sign it for me, and I used it for my own show. I played (mostly) the original versions of the songs plus a couple of extras.
And if you’re interested, here is the playlist from the gig:
Turn Turn Turn At Seventeen Big Yellow Taxi New York Both Sides Now Who Knows Where the Time Goes Natural Woman Songbird Make Hay It’s Too Late Killing me Softly with his Song You’re so Vain
Mercedez Benz Me and Bobby McGee The Man Who Sold the World Ocean Song You’ve Got a Friend The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face Hope Is River Texas Angel Brand New Key Jolene Those Were The Days This Wheel’s On Fire Goodbye
I think my cold is receding, I feel less tired, less cold, less lethargic than I did yesterday, at least I was able to concentrate on this stuff for a while. The Covid tests have all come up negative.
And here we are: November already. Who knows where the time goes?
I think Martha enjoyed using the sewing machine. Oma helped her make a skirt using fabric that she likes, featuring Mirabel from the film Encanto.
While Liesel was sewing the more technically difficult parts, Martha and I played a half-hearted game of skittles in our long hallway.
On taking Martha home, we were invited in for a minute. We left several hours later, having joined the family and the other grandparents for pizza. Both the children were in great form, a reminder that going to school really does sap their energy.
I do like seeing the multitude of colours of the fallen leaves: crimson, yellow, amber, gold, beige, chestnut, red, ochre and, when the Sun’s illuminating the ground, glowing and even flaming in hue. The thought of shuffling through the piles of leaves isn’t as attractive as it used to be, I am more aware of what might be lurking, hidden in the depths.
Autumn is coming into our block of flats. I think a couple of leaves blow in every time someone opens the door. Can I be bothered sweeping them out again? No, don’t be daft.
Watching the cyclists and pedestrians in Northenden, still wearing what might be thought of as light, Summer clothing, is very reassuring. Sometimes I feel odd being the only one still out and about in shorts and a t-shirt (not that I’m bovvered) but until it becomes really cold, I don’t really need to put on more layers.
And it’s so peaceful when a convoy of electric vehicles drives by, so much quieter than the infernal combustion engines that most cars, including ours, still possess.
It still surprises me that whatever time we go out for a walk, locally, we see as many buses that declare themselves ‘Out of Service’ as we see actually in service, taking passengers from place to place. I’d be interested to see the drivers’ shift patterns: do they really start and stop at any hour of the day?
Liesel and I haven’t been out litter-picking for a while, we really should get back to it. But recently, we saw a few young men on our patch, picking litter while wearing hi-visibility vests. Is that the new uniform for Wythenshawe Waste Warriors? Or were they on community service? Neither of us felt brave enough to ask, just in case they were indeed axe murderers.
Liesel wandered along the road for this year’s flu jab. I was scheduled to get one as well, but my appointment was cancelled. As an official old fart, the recipe for my flu jab is slightly different, and the pharmacy had run out.
A partial eclipse of the Sun was visible from the UK, but I assumed we wouldn’t see anything because of cloud cover. But no, it was clear enough. I took a couple of pictures with my phone. The Sun was far too bright really, but, somehow, by luck, the phone camera’s internal workings conspired to present a much fainter image of the eclipsed Sun.
It’s that time of year again. So glad I don’t have to walk into fresh spiders’ webs as I plod up people’s garden paths early in the morning. But the engineering involved is still pretty impressive.
I was quite happy to visit the local community library to pick up a book that Liesel had reserved. I took her library card. But of course, it was about to expire, so I had to have the ticket updated. While there, I asked about mine. It too had expired but the volunteer assistant renewed it for me. So, what book? It describes the Coast to Coast walk, from the Irish Sea to the North Sea, a trek that we’re thinking of doing next year.
In the library, a young lady was setting up a story time for young children. She had animals. I was invited to stay. I didn’t want to take up space, but I did ask the librarian what sort of animals. ‘She has cockroaches’. ‘I’m outta here’, I replied, after a millisecond’s careful consideration. No need to see cockroaches that close up thanks, we’ve seen plenty in the wild, in the tropics.
These flowers outside the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ Assembly Hall were glowing in the sunshine. It seemed possible to squeeze the orange juice out them.
My other errand was to drop off a bag of plastic at the Co-op, the plastic that our local authority can’t or won’t accept for recycling. I felt very welcome at Quirky Misfits when this chap greeted me at the door.
Inside, I was introduced to a corn snake. A 5-week old that was having a kip in the tank. More zzzz than ssss on this occasion.
The snake attracted the attention of all the children that came in, too. Much more interesting than the cockroaches would have been, I think, and I look forward to seeing it again when it’s fully grown, about five feet in length.
The Wednesday walk was disrupted for me, pleasant though it was. I went to the Post Office to post a letter for Liesel. I waved my phone at the machine to pay, and it was rejected. A second attempt failed too. Luckily, I had cash in my pocket, probably left over from a couple of weeks ago when I had to pay the barber with cash.
It’s along story, but the problem was nothing to do with my phone, or the card, or the bank. It’s because I had the temerity to delete my Google account last night. It gave me a warning, a long list of things that might be affected, but I wasn’t concerned about any of those things. I’m pretty sure Google Pay wasn’t on that list. What a shame though that the only way I could find to stop Google nagging me to pay for more cloud storage when I didn’t even want the free storage, was to delete the whole account.
And sever the links to who knows how many other features. Grrr.
My card now works. I tested it in in the coffee shop just along a bit from the dental practice where Liesel went for a scan. But then I tried to use Google Maps to find a route home. It couldn’t find one. Again, the problem was that this app was connected to my now deleted Google account. I’ll never understand why this should prevent it from finding a route home though. Yes, it won’t be recording where I’ve been, but that’s OK, I don’t care that they don’t know where I’ve been. Grrr
Oh and another thing. Yes, we went to Altricham. But at one point, we were in Timperley and/or Trafford and/or Sale. I think it’ll be a long time before I sort out my Manc geography, with all these places and place names that overlap. I thought Chessington and Hook were confusing enough: where is the boundary?
‘Two coffees please. I’m sitting over there and he’s sitting over there.’
It’s not that Liesel and I weren’t talking to each other, it’s just that Liesel was sitting over there with the ladies, and I’m not a member of the Women’s Institute. So after enjoying my coffee, I walked home from Didsbury, in the sunshine, a perfect, colourful Autumn wander.
At home, I am still in battle with Google. All I want to do is close or delete the account and sever all Google’s tentacles that inveigle their way into far too many aspects of my online life. But, according to one site:
“… That said, Google Photos app has its quirks. Apart from not providing a satisfactory user interface for device folders (other albums in the gallery), it’s difficult to delete photos. Sure, you can just press the delete button, but that removes the photo from everywhere, the phone as well as the cloud storage.”
Which is exactly what I’ve been worried about. So to avoid this, I have to move the photos on my phone to a secret new folder that Google doesn’t know about. And make an external backup. Plus, you can’t ‘just press the delete button’ because there isn’t one, not in an obvious place anyway.
It’s reminiscent of my 30-year battle with bindweed. You have to get rid of every molecule or it just comes back. Trying to delete a Google account is also like an annoying game of whack-a-mole. Just as you think you have a handle on the situation, up pops another message saying what else will be affected. Or, more prominently, if you want more storage, it will cost so much per month. I don’t. I don’t even want the 15 GB free storage I seem to have acquired. Please release me, let me go.
For some light relief, I dipped into the news. You’ll be the first to know when it’s my turn to be Prime Minister for fifteen minutes. Or I could take a leaf out of the government’s handbook and blame everything on Putin’s war in Ukraine.
In other news. Helen has been allowed to donate blood in Australia at last. They’ve not wanted English blood for decades because of mad cow disease. The reward was crisps and gluten-free crackers. I much prefer our custard creams and bourbons and shortbread biscuits. Her new pad is slowly taking shape, building furniture, shopping at Costco with a friend, what an adventure!
For October it’s been quite warm, which makes it easier to get up and go out for a walk around the neighbourhood. We joined two well-being walks this week.
This advert caught my eye and made me chuckle but I probably won’t be shopping there any time soon.
Liesel and I collected Martha and William from school later than usual this week. William had been at After School Club while Martha was studying Performing Arts. Ironic then that at home, it was William who took to the stage to perform a couple of songs using Makaton signs.
No, it’s not really a stage, it’s just the coffee table that he’s not meant to stand on.
Mummy and Daddy went out so we fed the children, and tried our best to make sure they were in bed and asleep at a reasonable time. It was a real pleasure reading to them, something we haven’t done for a long time. And really fun to watch William making up a story that involved the fate of his mouse. Poor old mouse. As he moved around William’s bedroom, the mouse had to fight off the fox that threatened to eat him for dinner. Then after climbing the door, the Gruffalo threatened to eat the mouse for dinner. Mouse escaped, thank goodness, only to be eaten by the snake who was carefully concealed under a blanket.
Not a good day for mouses really, as I found a lost Mickey in Wythenshawe.
Well, strictly speaking, it’s probably a young child who’s gone missing, we know exactly where Mickey ended up.
Here’s a tip. If you want to meet someone in Wythenshawe Forum, agree to meet under the clock. It’s just as iconic as the clock at Waterloo Station.
While I was in the Forum, Liesel was walking around Wythenshawe Park with her WI buddies. I’m so glad she shot some wildlife.
The radio show this week is about Honey and bees and for some reason, it took a lot longer than it should have to edit to the right length. Got there in the end though!
Never let it be said that Liesel and I don’t know how to have a good time, whether together or separately. On this fine Saturday, Liesel went for coffee with her WI chums leaving me to my own devices at home. But not for long. I paid a quick visit to Wythenshawe Forum for my Covid booster jab. No chocolate biscuits on this occasion, but neither did I have to rest for 15 minutes before being kicked out. All I need now is my flu jab and I’ll then consider myself fully Winter-proofed.
The walk home, the long way, took me by the river where I was delighted to see the heron attempting to hide on the island.
There are of course a zillion things more romantic than a Northenden sunset, but we have to make do with what we can get.
I have been tempted to paint a mountain view on the windows, but that idea has been vetoed by my wife. What about a stain glass window, then? If not mountains, what about a beautiful seascape? Nope. And nope.
We paid a return visit to Jodrell Bank where we met up with Jenny and Liam and the children. It’s been a while since we were last there, and the layout of the place and the car park all seemed unfamiliar.
We watched a couple of short films in the Dome, and even though it was warm and dark inside, I didn’t fall asleep.
The main attraction was the playground, where William and Martha had a great time climbing the frame and spinning fast on the mini roundabout made from an old washing-up bowl.
We had lunch before wandering over towards what should be the main attraction, the James Lovell radio telescope. On the way, we encountered some strange, almost extraterrestrial lifeforms.
We also admired pictures from the Astronomy Photographer of the Year competition, now in its 13th year. I would love to claim credit for these photos, but I didn’t spend hours, days, even weeks, outside, in the cold, taking multiple time exposures and stitching together several elements. I just walked along a path and took a few quick snaps with my phone.
‘High clouds on Jupiter create intricate and beautiful shapes that swirl all over the planet. To get a colour image when there are only three colour channels (red, green, blue), some sort of filter-to-channel mapping must be done. PixInsight was used for the rest of the processing: custom white balance, deconvolution and wavelet transformation for detail enhancement, contrast and saturation curves. The resulting image, in CIE-LAB colour space, was then converted to RGB.’ – Sergio Díaz Rulz
This Image takes the Annie Maunder Prize to a new level this year. By using real data from a NASA research programme, the entrant has managed to encode the filters used to study Jupiter into shape and colour, creating a new and unique way to see the largest planet in our solar system.”
‘When I took this photo it was -16°C and the air was filled with small ice crystals that made this halo possible. This regular 22° halo is more commonly seen around the Sun. The moonlight needs to be quite strong to make the halo visible, so it’s more common around the days of a full moon. To the left you can see the city lights of Östersund, Sweden, and in the foreground you can see the tracks from a rabbit that hopped up to the trees.’ – Göran Strand.
“I really love this picture as it beautifully captures the Moon in a way we rarely see it, showing us that even on a calm winter’s night, it can still take your breath away.” Melissa Brobby, Judge.
The fly is a bit annoying but feel free to believe it’s an alien spacecraft if you like.
Martha was impressed at the scale of the telescope, even if she didn’t quite understand how it worked. We tried to walk around it but sadly, some of the grounds are out of bounds. William and Martha enjoyed the scientific exhibits outside, demonstrating such things as the conservation of angular momentum. I’m sure there used to be ‘toys’ to play with indoors too, but as I said, it’s been a long time since our last visit.
For some reason, the children weren’t interested in the wooden radio telescope prototypes that I found behind the scenes.
On our baby-sitting day, we collected them both from school and brought them straight back to our luxury apartment. Mummy and Daddy were off to school for Parent Teachers evening. I told Martha it was so the teachers could tell the parents how bad the children had been. She immediately corrected me, “How good we’ve been!”
At home, using some colourful, fallen Autumn leaves, some washi tape, paper and sellotape, they had fun making some bookmarks. At school, William had made a card each for Oma and Grandad which was very cute, even if his teacher had to help spell ‘Grandad’.
For the radio show this week, I played lots of black music to mark Black History Month.
Something went wrong with uploading to Mixcloud, I had several attempts and it didn’t work. I wondered at my incompetence, or if I’d hit some limit that I was unaware of. But no, it turns out there was a problem on their site. So, overnight, all three of my attempted uploads successfully completed. Anyone looking at my profile would wonder why there were three shows with almost identical names! Technology eh?
In medical news, I visited the dentist, the hygienist and the barber. My neck feels much colder now. I also visited a periodontist for the first time since we moved away from Chessington. I won’t go into details but you know that song Unfinished Sweet by Alice Cooper? That. On the way home, I thought I’d go for a wander in Wythenshawe Park while I processed a lot of information. I texted Liesel and we agreed to meet there.
We had a nice walk around the park, following the new cycle/pedestrian path. It looks pretty good, although it ‘s recommended that you cycle in one direction only, widdershins. In places, there are extra loops and bumps and challenges for wannabe mountain bikers.
It started raining a few minutes before completing the circuit so we arrived back at the car a bit more damp than planned.
On TV, we’ve been watching the World Track Cycling Campionships and feel a bit sad that some of our favourite cyclists from 2012, London Olympics, are no longer competing, and we don’t know the current team nearly as well.
Well there I was, as I often am, lying in bed listening to a podcast, when I hear my name being called. Liesel is walking to Didsbury in fifteen minutes time and would I like to join her? Well no, not really, I want to hear the end of the show and then maybe another one… But no, I got up, got dressed, and we had a very nice walk by the river.
As always we looked out for the heron but he was hiding out somewhere. Instead, we saw a pair of shags and a swan on the river. A swan? That is very unusual.
Autumn draws on apace as witnessed by the very pretty Autumn crocuses along the river bank.
At Fletcher Moss, we had coffee, and I had my breakfast: a veggie sausage and fried egg barm. I knew it would be messy but I also knew it would be delicious. It was. And it was. I had to wash the yolk and ketchup off my fingers afterwards.
I don’t mind mushrooms in a dish, just not as the main component. But today, if I’d asked for mushrooms in my breakfast barm, I know they would have been really fresh.
You can pick your own right here. It looks like the weather recently has been highly conducive to fungi taking over the planet.
Liesel and her WI buddies were stationed outside the Co-op in Didsbury, handing out flyers telling people where they could recycle items that the local council can’t deal with. Sadly, we didn’t bring one of these very informative pamphlets home. My mission was to buy some filo pastry. Not in Didsbury, I couldn’t. Three shops don’t sell it and the other one had sold out. If it wasn’t for the fact that I was walking up and down the High Street, visiting each of the supermarkets at least once each, adding to the step count, I might have been a bit miffed.
Ford Lane is easily flooded whenever it rains, but we successfully negotiated the puddles without being splashed whenever Stirling Moss or Lewis Hamilton drove raced by on their way to their golf course.
Jenny and Liam have been married now for a few weeks. I said I’d post more of the official photos. Well here’s one.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the planet, Helen is moving into her new home. New furniture, new carpets, new address. We can’t wait to go and make ourselves at home there, somewhere in Brookvale, NSW.
There is now of course a huge pile of packaging to be disposed of. Sorry, Helen, we didn’t keep one of those flyers for you. But I suspect your local authority does things differently anyway.
My solo walk to Didsbury was rewarded with a massage. I hadn’t realised that all my muscle were so stiff. It was a good work-out, not necessarily for me, but I did feel much better afterwards.
The Wednesday walk in the rain was wet and wonderful. Added to which, I got papped back at Boxx 2 Boxx afterwards!
One of the highlights of the week was going to the cinema. Without looking it up, I can’t remember the last time we were in a movie theatre. We saw Moonage Daydream, the first film about our favourite alien superstar sanctioned by the David Bowie estate. It’s a roller-coaster ride of Bowie music, interviews, videos, remixes, over two hours of Bowie magic. I’d recommend it to anyone who’s even only slightly interested in Bowie’s life and times and philosophy.
This was our first time at The Light in Stockport, a cinema recommended by Jenny, even though she hasn’t been there herself. Yet!
Another highlight was visiting the gym in Wythenshawe. Liesel swam for a bit. I spent some time on the treadmill and the exercise bike. But the woirst thing was, I forgot to take a pound coin for the locker. That’s the real reason I wasn’t totally motivated.
Here’s a book recommendation. I really enjoyed this one.
It’s a period of history that we don’t know much about: the Roman invasion of northern Scotland. The characters and story are all very well written. It’s one of those stories that you don’t really want to finish. You want to know what happens after the events depicted. Highly recommended. Sisters at the Edge of the World by Ailish Sinclair.
The radio show this week was themed around Germany, in light of our recent trip. So, a few German musicians, some German music and songs that mention Germany, or a German city. If you missed it on Wythenshawe Radio, you can catch up here:
16th century beer was often strengthened by mixing it with lant (stale urine). So says a wall in one of the lavatories at Little Moreton Hall. Liesel and I took Leslie for a short walk here, and a small wander around the small house. I’d forgotten just how wonky the building is, with sloping floors and crooked windows. The National Trust check it every so often and they think it’s safe, it’s not going to topple over any time soon.
In the courtyard, one of the guides gave a brief history of the place. He was dressed for the part and he noticed that we, and many others, had gathered in the small area illuminated by the Sun.
We sat in Mrs Dale’s tea room for a cuppa before setting off for home. Briefly, we thought we were in France: we passed by a field full of sunflowers reaching for the sky.
I’ve mentioned Slitherlink a few times and this weekend, for the first time, I succeeded in completing one of the hard, huge, square Slitherlink puzzles in less time than the ‘median’ time they claim it takes. I shall add that to my list of personal achievements for 2022.
A couple of days later found us escaping coverage of the Queen’s funeral on TV. After ten days of mourning, the UK was in danger of returning to some degree of normality.
We drove to Alderley Edge having arranged to meet up up with Jenny and the family. Yes, Martha and William had the day off school. We thought we’d have the place to ourselves. Huh. Everybody else thought the same.
I tested myself by walking ahead and down a long. long hill, knowing I’d have to walk back up. I managed ok, thanks, no shortness of breath on this occasion. Martha and William showed me their new trick: jumping over a rift in the rocks.
As requested, I took a careful look at this veteran tree and I memorised the text on a nearby sign.
A veteran tree has the same characteristics as an ancient tree, but these are caused by natural damage or by the tree’s environment, rather than its age.
The characteristics are:
► A low, wide and squat shape because the crown has reduced ► A broader trunk than those of the same species at the same age ► Evidence of decay, such as a hollow trunk, the presence of fungi known to cause wood decay, or rot holes where limbs have fallen off or the bark is damaged
Why are veteran trees important?
Veteran trees are habitats for many rare and specialised species of wildlife and fungi. Looking after these trees is a vital part of our conservation work. Tree branches and limbs which have dropped to the ground are kept, as they help protect the roots of the tree. Veteran trees that have fallen over are generally not removed, as they are still habitats and may even continue to grow, making them ‘phoenix’ trees.
I don’t recall what species of tree this is, though.
It was a beautifully clear day, but I was still surprised when I saw Manchester way over there in the distance.
William probably walked twice as many steps as the rest of us. Well, ran, mostly. It was quite hard to find him a couple of times.
Liam filmed Martha as she walked carefully along a fallen tree.
I thought about suggesting she perform a forward roll on the log, like she does at gym, but I kept quiet: she probably would have taken up the challenge.
Liesel, Leslie and I joined the Wednesday well-being walk in Northenden. On this occasion, they went through the woods again, while I joined the group that walked a little further afield, along the river towards Didsbury and back. We spotted the heron, not in his usual place on the weir, which was unusually dry, but hiding under the bank. He was very still, just like the cardboard one that Liesel and I saw near Hampton Court that time, many years ago!
Later that day, Liesel and I collected Martha and William from school again and took them home to play. William wanted to join in with the craftwork, but he didn’t really move beyond cutting up pieces of paper with the many different pairs of scissors we have at our disposal. Pizza for supper with home made salad: it all went down very well. And it was then time for Martha and William to say their farewells to Great Oma, who would soon be flying home to Anchorage. I’m really glad they’ve met at last but I can’t help feeling sad that Klaus never spent time with our grandgchildren.
We haven’t been into Stockport for a long time, so I’m tempted to give you twenty questions in which to work out why we visited on this occasion. But that won’t work, because I don’t know when you’ll be reading this, and I certainly can’t think how to reply to your twenty questions in a timely manner. So I’ll just tell you: Leslie wanted to buy some locally distilled gin to take home for Aaron and Jodi, so we drove over to Stockport Gin. Leslie bought a bottle and some small bottles for Liesel and me.
Of course I checked the window display of this record shop, and found the David Bowie t-shirt. So my theory is still looking good: Every still existing record shop has, in its window display, either a David Bowie record or some other David Bowie merchandise.
On Friday, Liesel and I were a little late for the well-being walk in Wythenshawe, but we soon caught up with the group. We tried hard to persuade, cajole, convince Leslie to join us, but she put her foot down and declined the invitation.
And then, in a fit of madness, after we’d had coffee, Liesel and I joined the gym. I know, I know, I said ‘never again’ after the last time. But we feel we should make more of a concerted effort to build up strength, stamina, and all that malarkey. We’ll see how it works out over the next few weeks and months.
Leslie packed a huuuge case, which weighed in at 23 kg, so heavy, it nearly fell through the floor. Liesel and I packed our bags, 7 kg each.
In the evening we drove over to Castleton for a concert. I’d booked tickets for Eddi Reader a long, long time ago and I was able to purchase a third ticket for Leslie too. The car park at Peak Cavern was incredibly full. I was hoping we’d be amongst the earliest arrivals so we’d have a choice of seats.
Peak Cavern is also known as Devil’s Arse! and whoever came up with the idea of holding concerts here needs to be congratulated.
It was quite a walk from the car park to the cave itself, but it sort of made up for the fact that we’d not paid a visit a few weeks ago when we’d been staying in Castleton. I don’t know what the capacity is, but we ended up sitting in what would have been row AZ if they’d been labelled. The benches weren’t very comfortable to be honest, I’m sure my fidgetting annoyed the people behind. Much like the big head of the tallest man in the world annoyed me when he sat down right in front of me.
Bats flew around while the support act, Jill Jackson told stories and sang some lovely songs. My old ears plus cavernous acoustics meant that I couldn’t really hear everything she was saying. Did I buy her CDs? Don’t tell Liesel, but yes, of course. Did I invite her onto my radio show? No, I was too intimidated by the long queue of people who also wanted a quick chat.
Eddi Reader was as gloriously entertaining as she always is. This show originally was meant to be part of her 40th anniversary of performing, but Covid ruined a lot of plans.
She sang a nice mix of songs we know and some that we’re not so familiar with. Did I buy any CDs of hers? Well, no, because we already have them, all the ones up for sale, anyway. She was joined on stage by Boo Hewerdine and her husband plus a couple of others whose names I missed. By the time Eddi appeared on stage, the bats had disappeared.
I went for a wander to try and get better photos, but actually it was much more enjoyable to just sit there, even on a hard bench, with my eyes closed and let her voice permeate my whole being. I was nudged a couple of times, allegedly for singing along too loudly. I suspect my drone has suitably enhanced the videos made by fellow audience members.
What a great way to end Leslie’s six short weeks here with us in the UK. Well, apart from having to now walk back to the car park, along a slippery path, in the dark!
Oh, and apart from getting to bed at about 11pm and having to get up again soon after 2am. But that’s another story…