something scary – Mick and Liesel's Antics

Oasis v Blur

I woke up early, soon after sunrise, and was so glad I’d risen in the middle of the night to take some photos of the night sky, and yes, alright, just to gaze at the night sky with zero light pollution.

Neil hoovered the place, well, until the circuit breaker broke because the batteries had lost too much charge. The solar panels will charge them back up during the day.

First breakfast was cinnamon and apple flavoured oatmeal and a cup of tea.

We drove out from the cabin once again via Zuni Canyon. And again, I marvelled at the extent of the lava flows. A squirrel wasted no time in running across the road in front of us, phew. A family of ground hogs (same as prairie dogs?) standing in the middle of the road quickly dispersed in all directions. All except one who defiantly stood up on his hind legs until the very last moment, realising that a heavy American car is not to be messed with

‘Do something scary every day’ is one motto I try to live by, although there’s not always the opportunity to do so. Well, I admit, I did forego the opportunity to climb a ladder yesterday. But today, my challenge was, for the first time since about 1979, to eat an Egg McMuffin. We’d arranged to meet Buzz, Liesel, Gabe and Leslie at McDonalds in Grants at 11 o’clock. On arrival, I gave my order, being sure to enunciate to the best of my ability and to emphasise that I didn’t want any bacon on my Egg McMuffin. Loudly tapping the desk, the server who most definitely was not channeling Ronald McDonald’s jolly demeanour, told me that they don’t serve breakfast after 10.30, like everyone knows that, right?Scary Mary was so scary, I was too scared to order anything else to eat, so I just had a cup of tea.

Liesel and co arrived shortly afterwards and after a bit of a chat over tea or coffee or in Neil’s case, a small McFlurry, we all set off again. Neil returned to Albuquerque. The rest of us, almost in a convoy, set off westwards towards Window Rock.

We ate lunch at the famous Earls Family Restaurant in Gallup. It first opened in 1947 . This date reminded me that I would miss out on visiting Roswell on this visit to New Mexico. My huevos rancheros was accompanied by more green chili, which was just borderline acceptable to my taste buds: a few more Scoville points and my ears would have blown off again. Even so, Liesel did ask whether I was red because of the chili or was I sunburnt?

Window Rock is just over the border in the next state. So I was looking out for a big, brightly coloured sign saying ‘Welcome to Arizona’, maybe with flags flying, accompanied by a troupe of dancing girls and a big brass band. But no. A small, insgnificant, almost apologetic sign coyly saying ‘Arizona State Line’. That’s it? Well, what an anticlimax.

In Ganado, we visited the Hubbell Trading Post, established in 1878, now the oldest continually operated trading post on the Navajo reservation. J. L. Hubbell, whose family operated the trading post for nearly 90 years, was known among the Navajo as trustworthy and honest. His trading post became a pillar of the community, playing a large role in helping Navajo families rebuild their lives after the Long Walk.

The place was full of rug dealers, many beautifully woven rugs that would look good anywhere. Lots of jewellery too, they all seem very talented, the earrings were made by the maintenance supervisor.

Arizona and the Navajo nation have a love/hate relationship with Daylight Savings. For a while, the times on my phone and Liesel’s phone were an hour different, even though we were in the same room. Another quirk in this place: no sales tax.

The Navajo Nation Museum was interesting, and quite moving. But the first thing you notice on arriving and parking up are the large rocks on an otherwise flat terrain.

The next thing we noticed was the big, black cloud that appeared almost from nowhere. And indeed, when we were inside, it did rain for a while.

Between 1863 and 1866, more than ten thousand Diné prisoners of the U.S. were marched to the Bosque Redondo reservation, known in Navajo as Hweéldi, in present day southeastem New Mexico. The Long Walk is actually a series of forced marches, no less than fifty-three, during which captives walked anywhere from 250 to 450 miles, depending on the route taken.

Many of them (Navajos) died from starvation. The kind of food they had, they died from that. Also, I think a larger percent of deaths was caused by homesickness. They wept from day-to-day, many of them, “I wish I was on my own land bark at Chinle or Kayente.” — Dághá Chíí Bik’is, son-in-law of Manuelito and one of the first Navajo Council members (1951).

The Long Walk, then a Treaty between the Navajo Reservation and the United States that is, literally, not watertight. Disputes about the Treaty are still taking place, resulting in ongoing court cases. One current issue is the water supply. The Navajo nation depends upon just three rivers, and they’re being affected by climate change, like everything else.

Diné Cosmic Order by Donovan Snyder, 2018

At the time of the White Land (Ni’halgai), First Man (Áłtsé Hastiin), First Woman (Áłtsé Asdząą), and other Divinities were choosing rock-star mica chips that were laid out on a buckskin robe to place in the sky. They were forming our constellations to light up the dark night.

Mischievous Coyote (Mą’ii) came along and wanted to help, but after witnessing the slow and methodical placement of the constellations, he became impatient. He grabbed the buckskin and scattered the remaining stars into the sky, which is why some stars today are not seen within in the orderly constellations.

After the rain, it was only a quick downpour, we drove to our final destination of the day, Window Rock. At the first sighting of this natural phenomenon, I took this picture:

Window Rock is over there at the back, but, a flying saucer? How cool! Yes, I know it’s a raindrop on the windscreen, but still…

The rock with a big hole in it is well protected, fenced off, we really aren’t invited to go up for a closer look. It’s a great venue for graduation photos, as enjoyed by one new graduate today, having a good celebration with his family.

Here is a fascinating story, we learned a lot about it at the Museum, and there’s a monument here.

The Legendary Navajo Code Talkers:

During World War II, in the South Pacific Theater, the Japanese were extremely proficient at breaking into military radio communications and transmissions. Thus they were able to decipher U.S. Military codes. The U.S. Armed forces needed to find a secure method of communication if they were to have any chance of defeating a clever and intelligent foe. To counter the cleverness of the Japanese cryptographers, 29 Navajo Marines were recruited to devise a secret military code using their native language. By war’s end, there were over 400 Navajo Marines serving as code talkers and the code vocabulary had doubled. So successful was this innovative code that the Marine Corps commanders credited it with saving the lives of countless American Marines and soldiers. It enabled their successful engagements throughout the Pacific Theater which included the battles for Guadalcanal, Wake Island, Tarawa, Saipan, Guam, Midway, Iwo Jima and Okinawa. The code paved the way to early victory for the allied forces in the South Pacific. Major Howard M. Conner, 5th Marine Division Signal Officer stationed on Iwo Jima, commented on the gallantry of the Navajo Code Talkers: “Were it not for the Navajos, the Marines would not have taken Iwo Jima.”

Far from their homes, these brave young Navajo Marines served our nation with honor and dignity. The tale of their exploits remained a closely guarded secret for decades in the event that the Navajo Code Talkers unique talents would be needed again. In 1968 the Navajo code was finally declassified. In July 2001, at the National Capital Rotunda, United States President, the honorable George W. Bush, awarded the Congressional Gold Medals to the first 29 Navajo Code Talkers, their surviving spouses or children. In November of 2001 at the Navajo Nation capital of Window Rock, Arizona, the Congressional Silver Medals were awarded to the rest of the Navajo Code Talkers, their surviving spouses or children. Sadly, many of the Navajo Code Talkers have passed on never knowing of the honor a grateful nation has bestowed upon them. The Navajo Code Talkers will never be forgotten.

Diné Bizaad Yee Atah Naayee’ Yik’eh Deesdlii.

We checked in at our Holiday Inn before wandering over the road to Navajo Westerners Ace Hardware. Some of the fabrics on sale here are very pretty.

Another shop in this Navajo Nation Shopping Center was the supermarket from where we bought a snack: still full from a big lunch, we didn’t need a big evening meal.

We were followed back to the hotel by a stray dog, but I think it didn’t speak English, since it ignored all my stern commands. Another reason to learn Spanish, I suppose. Or maybe even Navajo.

Going down for breakfast in the morning provided the first chortle of the day. Shouldn’t laugh, really, but… There was a poster outside the hotel shop with a mugshot of a young lady. The caption: Anyone know who this is? They stole our security device.

Buzz and Gabe are here at this time for a weekend of fun with the Girl Scouts.They were at the breakast table along with Liesel and Leslie, plus three other Girl Scout leaders, by the time I arrived.

Liesel looked at a very pretty necklace in the shop, but decided not to buy it in the end. ‘It’s only stuff’ and ‘I’ll probably only wear it once’.

Over the road, the famous Flea Market was being set up. We wandered around, admiring all the jewellery (of course), ignoring the car tyres and electronics up for sale, and just passed some time until the Navajo Arts and Craft Enterprise opened. More locally made jewellery, and this time, Liesel did buy something, an unusual pair of earrings.

Leslie chose to stay with Buzz today, with the Girl Scouts, so that left Liesel and me to drive back to Albuquerque. Having plenty of time, we paid a visit to El Morro, for more local culture and a walk. Thanks to some roadworks, we found ourselves driving along the rumblestrips at the side of the road, and that’s a very uncomfortable feeling after a while. You’re doing nothing wrong, but we’ve been programmed to think that that noise means we’re too near the edge. Weird.

We listened to Classic Rock 93X: Putting the rock into Window Rock! Well, classic rock? Over half of the songs they played were new to me. They may have been big hits and very popular in the USA, but it was reassuring when the odd, genuine classic, came on.

On to El Morro, then. This cuesta has long been an oasis to the travelers who left their mark upon it. A reliable waterhole hidden at the base of a sandstone bluff made El Morro (the headland) a popular refuge for hundreds of years. Native Americans, Spanish explorers and missionaries, and American soldiers and pioneers carved over 2,000 signatures, dates, messages, and petroglyphs. Atop the cuesta are the remains of the fourteenth-century pueblos of Atsinna and North Atsinna where the ancestors of today’s Puebloan communities once lived.

A most enjoyable and interesting walk. The guide lent us a book, and we followed the route more or less as suggested.

These artefacts won’t last forever, being carved into sandstone and where they’ve tried to hide post-1906 markings, the surface looks unnaturally smooth.

As we walked back to the Visitor Centre, we felt a few spots of rain. Big spots. But, just as quickly, we stepped over a crack in the concrete path, and it wasn’t raining any more.

We heard the thunder in the distance, relieved that we weren’t caught in a major storm.

Our journey back to Albuquerque continued. We saw sheep and horses close to the highway, mostly behind a fence, but not always. Not ideal when the traffic is moving at 60mph or more.

We can sort of understand why people might choose to live out here in the middle of nowhere, miles from the nearest town. But, then, why would you build your house so close to the noisy highway?

We drove over the Continental Divide, elevation 7200 feet. This was a much more interesting sign than ‘Arizona State Line’. And if there was such a sign, we missed ‘New Mexico State Line’.

But we couldn’t miss the thunderstorm ahead of us, so of course I had to try and get a picture of the lightning. Liesel wasn’t keen on me almost leaning out of the with with my phone. But it was worth it!

Back at home, we took Neil out for a meal at Monroe’s, a return visit for us. I enjoyed my final New Mexico meal: #6 Veggie Tostadas (Gluten free) 2 bluecorn tostada shells stuffed with avocado, whole beans, pico de gallo, mozzarella, lettuce and tomato. Served with calavacitas and salsa. Hey, I remembered what I ate! But only because I screenshot the menu.

Final NM meal? Yes, my time here was nearly up and I had to do some packing. I have more to take home that I came with, especially the Seestar S50. Four weeks here, and it’s all a bit of a blur right now. I need a holiday, as they say.

Oh, and WordPress has just told me that this is the 600th post on this blog. What a lot of antics!

Surveys the Prairie

Bandelier National Park is about an hour’s drive from Tammy’s house and that was the destination for our hike today. Google Maps suggested that our route might be affected by a Winter Storm Warning. Winter? It’s April! Snow as forecast for the weekend in Santa Fe, yes, but that shouldn’t affect us today.

Before leaving, though, I did see a couple of pretty birds in the back yard. One had a predominantly red head but I couldn’t find it in the ID parade that is Tammy’s bird-wathing books. The other had black and white stripes on its head, like a badger, and from the books, I believe this was a white-crowned sparrow.

Apparently someone has seen a hummingbird in the area: probably one of the first to return from its Winter further south.

Typical New Mexico landscape plus clouds

This formation is composed of sand and gravel eroded from the Sierra de Los Valles. Its age is between 5 and 2 million years old (Pliocene epoch). It’s known for its ancient pueblo dwellings carved into the volcanic tuff, but we didn’t get that close.

The view from Anderson Overlook on New Mexico State Road 502

The drive took us through Los Alamos and I kept my head down while a guard inspected the driver’s ID. Just in case,

A herd of deer totally ignored us as we drove round one corner, but it was nice to see some wildlife bigger than a bird!

A sign welcomed us to Tyuonyi pueblo. Pronounced ‘QU-weh-nee’, which made me wonder, if that’s how you pronounce it, why don’t you spell it that way in the first place when you’re anglicising a previously unwritten language?

What remains of the village was occupied about 500-700 years ago. Tyuoyni had over 400 rooms and stood 1-2 storeys high. About 100 people may have lived here with another 400 residing in the cliff dwellings above.

We enjoyed our hike by all these dwellings. peeping into caves. Well, you had to climb ladders to visit some caves, and I’m sorry to say I didn’t. I’m not that keen on climbing ladders on terra firma at home, I wasn’t going to experience one of these home-made contrivances close to a precipitous edge.

I saw this sign and immediately donned lots of warm Winter clothing, long johns, padded trousers, three coats and a big furry hat. Then someone pointed out that in fact it was a beautiful, warm, sunny day and that the route wasn’t really closed.

It was a bit off the main path, but we did see a flash of colour. At least one cactus has decided to bloom.

I’m glad Jyoti and Rupert climbed these ladders so I didn’t have to. What an experience though.

The Bandelier landscape has been formed by both sudden dramatic volcanic eruptions and the slow forces of erosion.

The Jemez Mountains are the result of 13 million years of sporadic volcanic activity. Two large eruptions, 1.4 and 1.1 million years ago, expelled as much as 200 cubic miles of volcanic ash and formed broad plateaus around the mountains. As the ash was ejected, the center of the volcanic field collapsed to a huge depression known as a caldera. Today, the most visible part of the caldera is the Valle Grande (Spanish for Big Valley).

Small streams, like Frijoles Creek, gradually carved canyons through the plateau, while rain, frost, and seeping water eroded many small holes into the solidified ash (tuff). The Anasazi carved their homes from the tuff using tools made of basalt, another volcanic rock. Volcanism also produced obsidian which the Anasazi used for arrowheads and knives.

Yes, of course I copied that from one of the many information boards, thank you very much.

View from Bandelier National Monument Frijoles Canyon Overlook

As always, a photograph cannot do justice to the scale of this landscape. It’s big and you want to embrace it all but you can’t.

Tammy drove us to White Rock where we ate at Pig and Fig. In the distance, we observed rainclouds, and even rain, which appeared to evaporate before it even reached the ground. It was a bit windy and dusty, but we managed to overtake some tumbleweed on the freeway.

Jyoti, Rupert, Liesel and I returned to Golden Crown Panaderia for pizza and I enjoyed the World’s Best Coffee Milkshake. Grateful thanks to Donald Trump for allowing me to use a plastic straw: a paper one wouldn’t have taken the strain. Thank goodness for Presidential Executive Order 14,208.

Because snow had been forecast for Santa Fe, Liesel and I returned to Albuquerque a day earlier than initally planned. And it did indeed snow. In fact, we woke up to a few flakes here.

Our plan was to do the Three Guns Spring hike. Instead (doing some food shopping on the way) we visited the Maxwell Museum of Anthropology, inside, away from the pesky weather

One current exhibition is Entangled Cultures: How Humans and Microbes Co-create through Fermentation. Milk, bread, beer all processed by some mechanism inexplicable to people before the age of science.

We also learned about evolution of apes and humans, and especially the folks who lived here in what is now the southwest of the USA.

People have lived in the American Southwest for nearly 12,000 years. The first Southwesterners were descendents of immigrants from Asia. They came to an unknown world but quickly and successfully made it their home. The exhibition reconstructs aspects of daily life, the ways in which people related to one another through particular kinds of artifacts and architectural structures, and infers some aspects of spiritual life from the symbolic features of art and aesthetic expression. Together, these insights offer a fascinating picture of the remarkable history of the American Southwest.

We had a coffee before returniung home. There was quite a houseful now: us four, plus Leslie plus our hosts Buzz, Neil and Gabe plus cousin Ann and her husband Bruce. So dinner for ten it is. But not just any old dinner.

We enjoyed the Passover Seder, a first for me. The ritual included a retelling of the story of the liberation of the Israelites from slavery in ancient Egypt. Gabe was our storyteller, reading from a children’s book rather than the original from the Book of Exodus. A small amount of wine was involved, and lots of food. A place was set for Elijah, so that’s now eleven place settings. He didn’t show up on this occasion.

Meanwhile, this is what we missed in Santa Fe, thanks for the picture, Tammy.

The Mobile Spins

After a busy day yesterday, it was more relaxed today. Liesel and I drove into town, parked up and walked to the Cathedral.

This is one of seven archangels carved in 2005 by José Lucero, a local artist affectionately referred to as Picasso Santero. He created these from the remaining trunks of cottonwood trees that once stood along the river.

Meanwhile, Buzz and Leslie were taking a train from Albuquerque to visit us here in Santa Fe. Meanwhile, Gabe was driving here with Neil. We all met up by the Cathedral, which was too big to fit in the photo.

The Cathedral Basilica of St Francis of Assisi

While wandering around the town, we couldn’t help but notice the old Route 66. In 1937, the route changed so is passed through Albuquerque rather then Santa Fe.

But the first port of call was the French Pastry Shop, part of La Fonda on the Plaza Hotel complex. A nice French place with French pastries and other tasty treats. So for lunch, I enjoyed a French baguette with my default, favourite filling, cheese and tomato.

We visited KESHi, The Zuni Collection, where there was plenty of Zuni artwork to look at. The small animals are known as fetishes, but not ‘fetish’ in the way we usually think about!

So far, we haven’t been lucky enough to see any hummingbirds in the wild. This one is made from onyx, with turquoise eyes and some mussel shell for a beak. Mussels and coral are found locally, left over from the time New Mexico was under the ocean, several weeks ago, at least.

After Gabe left us to take Leslie, Neil and Buzz back home to Albuquerque, the rest of us, that is me, Liesel, Rupert and Jyoti, well, we returned to the French pastry place for coffee and dessert. My choice was something called ‘opéra’, layers of sponge with coffee and chocolate and very tasty, merci.

Jyoti found a ring she liked on a stall in the street, and it needed a slight adjustment. The man said he hoped to have it ready by the end of the day. He did, but by then, we’d returned home so we went back the following day to collect it.

We visited a few galleries in Canyon Road, not all 300, that would be a real labour of love. Some say 300, some say 100. I didn’t count.

Amongst our favourites, I think, were the wind-powered mobiles, which are also optical illusions. There are quite a few at Wiford Gallery. Tempting, yes, but far too big to take back to Albuquerque, never mind England.

When we returned home, I took out my new telescope in an effort to capture some landscape pictures. Without realising, I found a cow’s behind.

The same distant hill was viewed though the phone and through the telescope. You can see how good the magnification is.

Unless my detective work fails me, this image shows Cerro Chiflo, located near Taos, a volcanic plug in the Tusas Mountains of New Mexico. Cerro Chiflo’s peak reaches approximately 9,000 feet. The landscape includes piñon and juniper trees, and desert sage.

And of course, I had to have another look at the Sun.

While eating our evening meal, the Sun went down and we had a beautiful sunset, nearly as good as those we see in Northenden.

What was on the menu? Lamb curry for most people, but I believe my potato curry was far superior, thank you very much, Jyoti!

After all this time in NM, I was disappointed that I still wake up every day with a nosebleed. The other side effect of the lack of humidity, and possibly the lower air pressure at this altitude, is that my skin is a lot drier than usual, and my phone doesn’t always recognise my thumb print.

As mentioned before, we returned to town to collect Jyoti’s new ring. We also had breakfast. The green chilli that accompanied my huevos rancheros was perfect, nowhere near as hot as the stew I’d wrestled into submission a couple of days ago. A local delicacy is sopaipillas with honey, but I passed on this occasion. And yes, I am inconsistent with my spelling of chili, chilli and chile, but then so are most New Mexicans.

We visited the New Mexico Museum of Art, in a building that could have been transplanted from a pueblo. The main exhibit on right now is Eugenie Shonnard: Breaking the Mold. She was a locally acclaimed sculptor, being a pivotal figure for the history of art and sculpture in the Southwest, widely recognized during her own time for her contributions to the visual arts, yet largely overlooked in recent decades.

Chest of Drawers by Eugenie Shonnard, ca 1931

“Marsden Hartley traveled widely, taking in the people, cities, and culture of places like New York, Berlin, Paris, Bermuda, and Santa Fe. During his travels, Hartley frequently wrote letters to friends and family about his experiences. In the early twentieth century, writing a letter meant picking up a pen or pencil, or even sitting down at a typewriter, such as the one in front of you. Take a sheet of paper from the top drawer of the desk and write a letter about a place or experience you would like to share. Feel free to take your letter and send it to someone or leave it in the tray to share with other museum visitors.”

How could I turn down such an invitation? Well, it’s been a few years since I last bashed out a missive on a typewriter and I’d forgotten how loud they are. The clicketty clacketty noise I made reverberated all around the rooms, there was no way I could be stealthy. If you want to read what I wrote, you’ll have to pay a visit: I left my sheet of paper there, typos and all.

There were plenty of items out in the courtyard too, including frescoes.

Voice in the Sky by William Shuster, 1934

Here are some lovely people in front of the sculpture Abstraction by Georgia O’Keeffe.

Next stop, Iconik Coffee Roasters for some iconic coffee followed by a quick visit to Beastly Books.

Something scary with an animatronic werewolf behind

What a great shop for lovers of science fiction and fantasy. (We could do with any kind of bookshop in Northenden, thought grumpy old Mick.)

Liesel and I visited the library and sat down for a while. After meeting the others, we dined at The Shed, a Mexican restaurant not too far from The Plaza. I’d been a bit worried that I’d struggle to find vegetarian food in New Mexico, but so far, there’s always been something for me. Tonight, a Tamale Plate: green chile vegetarian (green chile, onion and corn) tamales, served with beans and Spanish rice, a side of red or green chile, and garnished with lettuce & tomato. Again, relatively mild green chile, it didn’t blow my head off.

Big Things

We returned to the Bear Tooth for an evening meal with Liesel’s brother Aaron and his family. On this occasion, I chose a pizza but it was too big for my dainty stomach and I couldn’t finish it. By various logistical manoeuvres, we eventually returned to Cath and Hans’s place for one final night. Alas, not a full night’s sleep for Liesel: she got up at 4am in order to drive back across the big city and take Buzz to the airport for her return trip home to Albuquerque. During the night, the temperature had dropped to -15°C so I was quite happy to stay under the covers for a few more hours.

Meanwhile, newlyweds Helen and Brent were slurping their way through the newly released film Wicked. Liesel, her Mom and I saw the stage version in London, with the original Broadway cast, a mere 19 years ago. Feeling old.

After the airport run, Liesel and her Mom collected me and we enjoyed a big breakfast at Southside Grill. Liesel’s choice was reindeer and cheese skillet with eggs. I meant to go and check up on our near neighbour, Star, later on, but I forgot. We did learn something new about American cuisine, though. Eggs ‘over easy’ means you get runny egg white. If you want solid whites with slightly runny yolk, you ask for ‘over medium’. My meal kept me going for the rest of the day: no need for lunch nor dinner.

After watching our first TV rubbish in a week, Liesel went to work in the office, taking Mom with her. And while I didn’t go and visit Star, I did go for a long walk to visit some more wildlife, even though I really, really, really craved a nap. It was -9° with no wind. Footwear is so much better nowadays: even though it was cold out, my feet didn’t turn into blocks of ice like they used to when I was a child. My exposed face was the most uncomfortably chilly.

I had crampons on my shoes too, and the noise they made as I walked on ice was very strange. Crunch, crunch, crunch as usual, but in places, a squeak or a slight echo gave the impression that the ice was hollow underneath. At the right pace, there was occasionally an almost continuous roar coming from my footsteps. Great sound effects. Where the pavement was ice-free, my crampons sounded like I was wearing several pairs of high-heels.

My destination was a dead, beached whale that had made the news a few days ago. I know, sad that it had died, but still an interesting thing to see as a visitor: we don’t get much washed up sealife in the Mersey.

I walked by Jupiter, the biggest planet, another stop on the citywide Planet Walk, and I smiled at the uncharacteristic snow-covered Jovian north pole.

I didn’t know how close I’d get to the object of interest, so I started taking photos as soon as I saw the crowd on the frozen mud flats.

Mud flats and, way over there, whale watchers

I was in two minds about whether to walk on the mud flats. I wouldn’t in Summer, too risky with quicksands and, I suppose, quickmuds.

But, ‘do something scary every day’, as a friend once said. I figured that if I were to fall through the ice, someone from the fairly large crowd would come to my rescue once they’d stopped laughing.

It was icy, and bumpy, and I felt better prepared for the adventure than many others whose shoes and boots appeared to have no grip at all.

As I approached the whale, its odour became more obvious. Being this cold, the body wasn’t decomposing very fast. I’m sure it will smell stronger before the next really high tide takes the corpse away.

The deceased juvenile fin whale is 47 feet in length. Fin whales are the second largest cetacean after the blue whale. Their name comes from the relatively small dorsal fin.

A lady with zero grip on her sheepskin boots asked me to help her across the ice. In the end, I helped Valerie walk all the way back to her car.

The biologists have taken some large samples away to determine the cause of death. There are no signs of a collision with a boat, so it’s probably natural.

Much of the baleen seems to have disappeared: I suspect people other than native Alaskans have, illegally, taken it as a souvenir.

You can tell by how dark my glasses are that the Sun was very bright, and very low down, so it was hard to avoid looking towards it.

After dropping Valerie off at her vehicle, I quickly debated with myself whether or not to walk across the ice-covered lagoon. I decided not to on the grounds that I’ve already done something scary today, but also, at the edge of the lagoon, there was water, actual liquid water, running out from underneath the ice, and I thought that maybe it’s not as solid as it looks, even if there are plenty of other people out there skating and even practicing their ice hockey skills.

I did like the machine out on the ice, a caterpillar tracked snow plough and I thought, I should get something like that to better negotiate the potholes of Northenden and Gatley.

Over in the old country, we’re sorry to have missed William’s 7th birthday, but we did have a quick video chat with him as we were just going to bed and he’d just got up for school.

Happy birthday William. And what did we do to celebrate the occasion? Well, we binge-watched a TV series Dark Winds, which takes place in the Navajo nation. I think we can all recommend it, although I’m not likely to read the 27 books on which the series is based. The only exercise today was a quick walk over the road to do some shopping.

Liesel’s doing a lot of work right now in the office: I wish I could help in some way, but my legal experience is limited to watching one session of a Superior Court case recently..

After another breakfast out, this time at Jackie’s Place, where, by the way, I only got two eggs ‘over medium’, remember, instead of the three I’d had at Southside, Liesel took me next door to Play It Again Sports. I don’t know who Bob is but I had a feeling that he deserved a damn good whacking, as the song says.

But, apparently we’re not allowed to thump him. What a great sports shop though. If only I were interested in skiing, skating, playing ice hockey, football, soccer, working out, weight-lifting or lacrosse. I could have bought specialised gloves for many different sports, even for different positions in some sports. And then there are so many different socks available. I might have had a go at the unicycle I spied in the corner but (a) it was chained to the fire extinguisher and (b) I still can’t ride a unicycle.

Another day, another dollar. While Liesel was in the office, Jyoti took me on a tour of Anchorage. Well, kinda. First stop was Chugach Mountain Roasters, the coffee shop where Suvan, Jyoti’s son, works. The coffee was so nice, I had a second cup, thanks very much, Suvan.

Next, we visited Natural Pantry for some natural food items. What a strange place. At home, we buy aloe vera gel in nice plastic bottles. Here, it’s all natural. And what big leaves they are.

I was very happy to see this sign though, an employer actually looking after their staff. So Jyoti and I returned all our cannabis and hemp based products to the relevant shelves.

We paid a quick visit to SK, Jyoti’s boyfriend’s daughter, on the occasion of her birthday, after which, I was dropped off at the office.

In the evening, Liesel, Leslie and I went round to Monica’s house for a lovely meal. A huge pork joint was the main attraction, while my falafels were a close second. Jyoti, Una and Phil joined us too and it was good to see Gregg again and especially Neha, back home from Washington DC where she is studying.

For whatver reason, we’d decided previously that we wouldn’t make a trip to Talkeetna on this occasion. For which I am very grateful. This is how cold it was there.

So, as you might have anticipated, I ended this post with another whinge about the climate here.

Coins, cone, kine

‘Do something scary every day.’ I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it again. I also interpret that maxim to mean, ‘Say Yes when it would be so easy to just say No.’ So, when Chantel asked for volunteers to do something at 8 o’clock on a Saturday morning, my first thought was ‘no way, José’, but I actually vocalised: ‘Yes, put my name down.’

I woke up nice and early, but drifted off again before the alarm woke me up with a jolt.

Breakfast gave me the energy to walk over to Wythenshawe Park where before making contact with anybody, I found this chap who expressed my mood beautifully.

As part of Manchester International Festival, artist Ryan Gander invited audiences to undertake a quest across the city in search of his latest artworks. Hundreds of thousands of collectable coins will be hidden in plain sight across Manchester, each embellished with words offering guidance on daily decisions.

Abi from Factory International presented me with a bag of 250 coins to hide in Wythenshawe Park. As requested, I left some in plain sight on park benches, walls, posts and pillars, and many in more secluded locations, on trees for example. Some coins will be found easily, some will glint in the Sun, and attract people’s attention. Ryan Gander and I invite all of Manchester to go out and explore, look for hidden coins, right up to 16th July. I suspect some will be there for many years to come. I know of one that fell down, inside a hollow tree. That’ll confuse a future archeologist! Yes, I feel very special being involved with a work of art, even at a distance.

As well as distributing coins, I was also acquiring a good step count for the day. Compensation for those times I don’t move far from the sofa at home!

Coffee and cake were very welcome. Just a slice of Victoria sponge, please. Well, what I got in the box was the biggest slice of cake I’ve ever had to deal with in a public space. Not complaining, but I really needed Liesel to help out with her fork. She was instead with the ladies of the WI.

The local wildlife weren’t that impressed with events, so much so, they stayed out of focus.

Later on, I clapped as hundreds of people ran past, taking part in a 10km run. From their facial expressions, not everyone was enjoying it too much.

After a long walk in the park, it was time to move on. I caught a bus to Cheadle and started walking towards Martha’s and William’s school. As I was passing the Village swimming pool, I took advantage of the opportunity to use their facilities. I noticed Liam’s car in the car park and deduced, therefore, that the children were swimming. Actually, they would have just finished. So I waited for them to emerge from the changing rooms and I was delighted to hear that most searching of questions from Martha: ‘What’s Grandad doing here?’

We drove to the school and I paid for entry to their School Summer Fair. Spiderman was there and he has the ability to make small children levitate, which is a cool trick.

In the chocolate tombola, I won a big bar of Cadbury’s chocolate that, spoilers, Liesel and I polished off within three days.

Martha and William had fun on the bouncy castles, until the latter were deflated and tied down when it became too windy.

Jenny was there already and when she told me there were no hot drinks on sale here today, I threatened to complain to the committee. Don’t you dare, she warned, as a prominent member of said committee!

A splendid time was had by all, and I made my way home by bus. Two buses in fact, with another long walk between.

On Sunday, Liesel and I went into Manchester city centre. Our first port of call was the Science and Industry Museum. More specifically, the café, for a coffe and a spot of lunch. I wonder why lunches come in spots?

There’s a small exhibition here about Stephen Hawking and his theoretical physics work. They’ve even preserved his blackboard from Cambridge.

According to The Guardian: The Cambridge cosmologist, who died in 2018 at the age of 76, treasured a blackboard that became smothered with cartoons, doodles and equations at a conference he arranged in 1980. But what all the graffiti and in-jokes mean is taking some time to unravel.

Our final desination we knew was somewhere behind the museum. Down a road that Google Maps doesn’t even know about yet. The directions to Versa Studios given in the email were very precise. And when we were close, it was reassuring to see directing arrows on the black hoarding, leading us to the right place. It’s all happeneing here, in and near Festival Square, all part of Manchester International Festival.

The show we watched was Kagami, in which we enjoyed a hologram projection of Japanese composer Ryuichi Sakamoto playing several of his compositions on the piano. We had to wear special goggles that revealed Ryuichi, but allowed you see other members of the audience as we were able to walk around the projection. Sadly, Ryuichi passed away in March so he never saw the final version of the show, but I hope he saw enough to know how good it would be.

As he began to play Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence, I told Liesel that was my favourite, and it seemed to be very popular as it was the only piece to attract a generous round of applause. Clapping a ghost, hmmm.

Don’t ask me to explain why his music sounds Japanese, but it does, it just evokes the sights and smells and sounds of that fascinating country.

Yes, it is weird looking at a picture of a group of people standing around, all apparently looking at absolutely nothing.

On July 3rd, 1973, I was not at Hammersmith Odeon to witness the final one of 180 shows played by Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. Famously, not only was it the last show of the tour, it was the last show they’d ever do. So announced David Bowie before playing the final song, Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide.

Well on the fiftieth anniversary of that gig, Liesel and I witnessed the Global Premiere of the Film of that Concert. Not at Hammersmith Odeon unfortunately, but closer to home, at Cineworld, Parrs Wood. Global premiere? Yes, this would be the first showing of the whole concert, including a couple of songs missed out before, and the whole of special guest Jeff Beck’s performance. I can feel Liesel’s eyes roll as I write this and I know they will when she reads it later, but these details are important.

I no longer own it, but a few months later, I purchased a bootleg recording of the show at the wonderful, atmospheric, aromatic, long gone Kensington Market.

There was a piano introduction by Mike Garson, and a panel discussion about David Bowie, but for whatever reason, we only joined the event part-way through the discussion. It was OK, but nothing to write home about. I enjoyed the film immensely, Liesel not so much, especially the long guitar solos by Mick Ronson while David Bowie took a long time to change outfits!

We haven’t seen a rainbow here in Northenden for a while, but I captured this one before it disappeared behind the bin cupboard.

I caught a bus into Manchester to help with someone’s research. So glad I got an early bus, it took ages, as it had to make a long, slow detour for some reason. And even though the windows were open, the bus ride was ridiculously, uncomfortably hot. So my first task on arrival in the big city was to buy a bottle of water. Yes, I could have taken a water bottle with me from home, but that would have entailed thinking ahead, planning and remembering to pick the bottle up. But it didn’t even cross my mind.

I saw a few new graduates around town and I resisted the temptation to high-five anyone, but who knows, maybe some of them had been taught by Jenny at some point. I also wondered whether Jenny at some point had taught the Masters Researcher whom I was seeing today. Unlikely though, as she earned her first degree in Leeds.

I found my way over to the Division of Neuroscience and Experimental Psychology, part of the School of Biological Sciences within the University of Manchester.

The study is around factors affecting observation and imagination of computer-based actions in people with Parkinson’s and older adults. They want ‘old’ people, over 50 years of age. And they want people who use two fingers to type, not touch-typists.

I did a few tests on paper, typed a lot of words under various conditions, imagined typing words, and conducted a few other tests. I hope my results are useful. Especially if, in the end, it leads to some way of helping folks with Parkinson’s.

The bus ride home was just as long and devious and weary.

This week’s Wythenshawe Radio show had the theme: Sweets. I was thinking sweeties, candy, chocolate, honey, sugar. I can feel my teeth rotting as I write that sentence. I asked my dentist to come on and talk about teeth and, well, about being a dentist. But I was out of luck: she was about to fly off for a holiday. Oh well. If, like me and Liesel, you didn’t hear the show on WFM 97.2 on Friday afternoon, you can catch up on a slightly extended version here.

So, those coins, what do they look like? Each one in the set of three has one word on each side, which you can use to guide your future choices. Heads or tails?

Center Parcs

Our next adventure? Yes, a week in Center Parcs with Helen, Jenny, Liam, Martha and William. The seven of us were to occupy a single lodge in the holiday village in Sherwood Forest, the first to open, in 1987. So it’s the same age as Helen. Any plans I had for a long, luxurious lie-in were put on hold for a few days.

Liesel and I rose early, finished our packing and set off for Jenny’s house. There, we loaded two cars with people and enough stuff for six months. Or so it seemed: I think most of the paraphernalia was for the children. Including their bikes which we mounted on the back of our car.

Quite rightly, Martha was concerned that the bikes might fall off on the journey. We reassured her that the straps would hold them in place. Telling her that if the bikes fell off, then so would the back door of the car, well, in retrospect, maybe that wasn’t what she needed to hear.

The weather looked promising and the two-hour drive was straightforward, over and around the Peaks and into Nottinghamshire. The one and only other time I’d been to Sherwood Forest was in about 1984, for work. I remember being pestered by wasps at the pub.

After arriving and checking in at the main gates, we ate lunch in the Village Square. I know a few people who have taken short breaks at Center Parcs, but I didn’t really know what to expect. It’s a large community of about 400 acres in the middle of the forest. Other than driving to the lodge to unload the car, and reloading a few days later, cars aren’t allowed on the roads. Which leaves the park free for the enjoyment of cyclists, pedestrians, buggies, skaters and scooterers. Even on our first little walk to the village square, I was surprised and delighted to see squirrels and moorhens and geese and ducks.

4pm was the time to unload the vehicles. Jenny entered the lodge first, catching a member of staff putting her feet up for a few minutes. Oops.

I don’t know how many bags and cases and boxes we carried in for the seven of us, but then I recall that when Liesel and I went away for just a couple of days at Christmas, we had 16 bags.

I thought this oak tree was hundreds of years old, but no, it was planted in the late 19th century. Why is it crooked? The strange ‘wolf’ tree form was created in the mid-20th Century when it was about 90 years old and the largest tree in the forest. Pine trees were planted around the oak and as they grew, their canopies covered over the oak’s branches. To reach the warmth of sunlight the gnarly old oak opened its boughs wide and twisted them between the pine canopies. When Center Parcs arrived, the pines were removed giving the oak unimpeded access to daylight. Neither William nor I climbed the tree.

We had an early dinner, my kind of meal really, lots of snacks, nibbles, crackers, falafels, pita chips, spinach dip. We’d planned to go swimming afterwards, so I was conscious that I shouldn’t eat too much: no need to sink on the first day.

The pool area is big and even in the evening, very busy, lots of families, lots of children and, I’m pleased to say, I wasn’t the oldest person there.

Martha and William encouraged me to go on The Rapids. As the name suggests, you’re taken down a slide, with multiple turns and bumps and plunges. What I didn’t anticipate was getting cramp in one toe. Which meant, I was even more out of control of my body, I kept bumping into Liam, I couldn’t apologise enough, but I couldn’t stop either, in the fast flowing water, to give my foot a chance to sort itself out. The third and final section was horrible too. Most of the water went up my nose. Glad I did it, but no need to do it again. Maybe just the first section.

We queued for the Grand Cascade boat ride. You hold onto the circular boat as it, relatively gently, travels down a 600-metre shute. At the end of a very enjoyable ride, everyone climbed out of our vessel, including William. ‘Are you alright?’ asked the lifeguard as I floundered in the boat, which was now half full of water. ‘Yeah, grandson just stomped on my nuts’, I explained.

We went to bed later than I’m now used to, but even so, it took ages for us to fall asleep. First night in a new place and new bed is always a challenge of course, but I think I’d ODed on caffeine too.

One of the benefits of still being awake at around midnight was that I heard owls hooting outside. Next time, I laughingly told myself, I’ll go out and see if I can see one.

The next morning, Liesel rose early and went for a walk around the village. I would (maybe) have joined if I’d been awake. Martha and William fed the geese and ducks that visited our back door. The bird food is supplied, and the birds know it. And so do the squirrels! Also queueing for free food was a blackbird, more baby moorhens and of course, pigeons.

We went for a swim in the morning and it was much busier than last night. In fact, it was so crowded that at one point, I had to get away from the throng and go for a walk around the pool area. I don’t know how many tens of thousands of steps remain unaccounted for because of course I didn’t have my pedometer with me.

In other news, today marked a very significant anniversary. Never mind D-Day in 1944. Or the UK referendum which continued our membership of the EEC. No, on 6th June, 1973, I went into school to sit one of my A-level exams. Halfway through, I just got up and ran to the toilets. I’d been having stomach pains for a few days. The GP had put it down to ‘exam nerves’. I know what exam nerves feel like, and this was totally different. But in those days, the doctor knew best.

Somehow, I got home, Mum took me to see the doctor and thank goodness it was a different one. A quick examination confirmed: appendicitis. Dad was at Epsom, enjoying Derby Day, so Mum came to hospital with me, in the ambulance.

I was told later that my appendix was removed ‘just in time’. A black shrivelled up thing was how it was described.

During my ten days in hospital, I sat one more exam, invigilated by my then maths teacher, Jenny Nelson. Whom I still feel bad about, because I never thanked her properly.

It never occurred to me in that hospital bed, during a hot Summer, that fifty years later, I would be having a holiday with my children and my grandchildren.

After lunch, we walked over to the Aerial Adventure. All the girls signed up for this challenge, us boys volunteered to take pictures. To be fair, I think William would have joined in but he’s just not quite tall enough this year.

The adventure entails walking among the treetops, on wobbly boards, through a tunnel, and negotiating various other obstacles before the final zip wire ride across the lake.

Liam and William took a boat out onto the lake and I thought I’d stay on land to get some different photos.

Sadly, my videos were no good. I blame it on the fact that my new phone behaves differently to the old one. Nevertheless, it was quite exciting to see Jenny, Liesel, Helen and Martha fly over the lake, shrieking with enjoyment.

In the evening, we dined at Las Iguanas, where I was surprised to see that many of the waiting staff were robots. They carry the food to your table, and a real human (or so I believe them to be) serves it up to us customers.

Later in the evening, Liesel and I were relaxing on the sofa, when Christmas appeared.

Good night, Merry Christmas, sleep well!

After breakfast, the children wanted to swim again but Liesel and I decided to take a day off. Liesel had some work to do, and as regular readers will be aware, I was a long, long way behind with this blog. So after watching Martha and William play in the Pirate’s Cove for a while, Liesel and I went and sat in the café that overlooks the rapids, where we drank coffee, typed and observed.

Jack-in-the-pulpit, or Arisaema Triphyllum, to use its botanical name, is a perennial wildflower native to north America. It’s sometimes called a bog onion. Which, as the sign says, is quite appropriate, because this one is in fact a urinal, which I think all us gents were too intimidated to use.

Today’s adventure for the children was the climbing walls. I think they both did remarkably well, climbing several different walls, each with its own challenges. I wouldn’t have climbed nearly as high, even knowing the safety equipment was in proper working order.

Later in the afternoon, I went for a solo wander over to the Nature Walk. I followed well-made paths, walked through the trees, and was glad to be away from people for a short while. So what wonders of nature did I behold on this special trail? One rabbit, one squirrel and, er, some pretty flowers.

On our last full day here, I got up early, finished writing and posted the blog. Liesel decided to work again, while I went swimming with everyone else. I say swimming, but the pool isn’t designed for serious swimming, it’s too busy and the wrong shape. So when I say I swam two lengths, it’s not that impressive, really.

Liesel and I took the children to the playground in the afternoon. Two playgrounds in fact. The first one was for 8-13 year olds, and so the equipment was quite a stretch for both of them.

Later on, time for 10-pin bowling. I didn’t participate because my back has been giving me gip on and off for a couple of weeks. Jenny didn’t play either, because of her knee issues. Being a mere observer, I couldn’t help but notice there was definitely a slight camber to the left hand side, that’s where most of the errant bowls ended up.

The weather had been OK all week, but a couple of extra degrees would have been nice. We enjoyed our walk, or in the case of the children, bike ride, to the venue for our evening meal. There’s a maze here too which Martha and William enjoyed running around, and, taking a cue from their Dad, jumping over the low fences!

After the best night’s sleep of the week, and a quick breakfast, it was time to pack up, move out and move on. Liesel volunteered to retrieve the car from the car park and when I saw it, decorated with a thick layer of pollen, I finally understood why some of us had been suffering from hay fever all week.

It took several trips to carry all the bags and cases and boxes from the lodge to the cars. And, because we had a long way to drive home later, I thought it would be nice to see where we were going, so I washed the pollen off the cars’ windows.

On our first day here, William and Martha drew on the blackboard in the lodge, and I am glad I can preserve the artwork here:

Oh, and it wasnt a lodge after all, it was a ‘villa’! At least, according to the sticker warning of the deep water nearby.

There was time for one final swim in the morning. The first time William saw this shute, slide, whatever it is, he took a few seconds before deciding not to go on it. Just a few days later, and he was sliding down, very fast, time after time. As was Martha.

I managed to get a video of the family at the end of a Grand Cascade Boat Ride.

After our final meal, this time at the Pancake House, we set off for home. It seemed to be a long drive, with lots of traffic and loads of hold-ups. But we still made it back to Cheadle in time for Martha and William to attend their cricket club. Yes, they’re learning the skills of the gentlemen’s game. I was glad to see they don’t use a real cricket ball though: I’m still wary of those things from my own school days.

When Martha wasn’t required to bowl or wield a bat, she entertained us by doing handstands out in the field.

After dropping the bikes and other paraphernalia off at Jenny’s house, Liesel and I went home. Hot, tired, and very happy. We’d had a lovely, fun time with the family.

A bonus was that during the two-hour drive, Liesel and I listened to Wythenshawe Radio, and there was a fascinating show about Parks. Mick the Knife presented it and you can catch it here.

Carlisle to Northenden and back to normal

Our hosts let us stay in the b&b for a while after the publicised checkout time, and I had a very modest breakfast, since there was to be no major hike. Tammy and Teresa walked to the station with their heavy bags and shortly afterwards, Jyoti, Liesel and I took the taxi: the same cabbie as yesterday, booked by Liesel when he dropped us off yesterday, mainly because he wasn’t Max Verstappen.

Yes, we caught up with Teresa and Tammy at the station. Our trains, theirs to Euston and ours to Manchester, departed from the same platform, albeit over half an hour apart. The second farewells were just as fond as the first.

I wish I’d counted the carriages or containers that made up the long Tesco train as it passed through Carlisle Station.

I probably could have used the facilities closer to where we were sitting, waiting for our train, but it was fun wandering around, getting a few steps in, at least.

And of course, it’s always fun looking down on people.

The two-hour train journey into Manchester was uneventful, but we did pass some very pleasant countryside, which I observed momentarily whilst reading my very exciting book.

And the thought crossed my mind: yep, for the last week or so, we’ve been walking through that sort of thing.

And again, as my mind wandered, the thought occurred: in hotels and b&bs, why do the bathroom materials have to be so hard to identify? All I want to know is whether it’s ‘Shampoo’ or ‘Shower Gel’ or whatever. Yet this vital information is often in very small print at the bottom of the bottle. I don’t care who the manufacturer is, or what it smells of, or what the ingredients are or whether or not the bottle’s recyclable, or what its capacity is. Just tell me what it is, in a big typeface, something that I can read when I don’t have my glasses on in the shower. That’s the whinge of the day.

The taxi ride home from the station was also uneventful. Again, we were glad not to have Stirling Moss driving us.

I think it’s fair to say we took the rest of the day easy. Liesel and Jyoti attended to their blisters. My only one, on a small toe, was caused by a small stone that had entered my shoe via the back door. A new shoe that should be waterproof, but according to the mud stains on my sock, in that corner, wasn’t.

The one commitment I had was to produce a radio show for Friday. This I completed over two days, utilising birthday messages sent by several messages from Jenny’s friends and family. I can’t believe Jenny is that old, I keep doing the arithmetic in my head. Forty years ago this week, to speed things along, Sarah was doing lots of gardening, and enjoying plenty of Indian food.

We invited the family over for dinner, which I think they enjoyed. Martha certainly did.

I wondered how long the ‘rest period’ would be following our hike across the country. It was very easy to not join any of the regular local walks this week. On one occasion I had to go to Boxx2Boxx for a meeting with David and Mary again. I still find it interesting that there are so many services offered locally, but the main problem is informing the people that need to know.

In the afternoon I took a bus into Manchester, to the blood donation centre. To donate blood, I wasn’t just going in to ‘borrow’ some biscuits. Trainee Phoebe looked after me today, and she seemed relieved when I agreed to letting her put the needle in my arm. ‘Well, you’ve got to practice on somebody’, I said.

I think someone must have set the alarm off once too often. They seem pretty desperate for us to press the right button when we want to leave the building.

Before going home, yes of course I had biscuits, custard creams and shortbread, since you ask, plus orange squash. They don’t offer tea or coffee any more, and I hope that’s for medical reasons and not ‘budget cuts’.

The three of us went for a walk at Dunham Massey, it’s close, fairly flat, and at this time of year, very colourful.

But the most exciting event of the day was undoubtedly the arrival of my younger daughter Helen, all the way from Australia. Liesel, Jyoti and I went over and joined the family for dinner. I took one photo. A momentous occasion, and all I got was this non-award winning portrait, which gained negative points for its composition.

When Liesel’s Mom left, Jyoti arrived to take her place. Helen turned up so now it’s time for Jyoti to go home. One in, one out. On Jyoti’s last full day here on this visit, we all went to Chester Zoo. Liesel, Jyoti and I arrived first, and before the others joined us, we actually saw some animals. Exciting, eh? And we saw even more animals when we were a party 7 strong. Yes, sadly, only 7, Liam was left at home to deal with a faulty boiler. We offerered, but I’m so glad they didn’t all come round to ours at 7am for a warm shower.

Martha haunting the golden mantella vivarium

During her time here, Jyoti was often busy knitting hats for the children. She and Liesel with her crochet are very talented.

Another fabulous day then, in fair weather. Liesel, Jyoti and I sadly couldn’t make the comedy night that I’d booked ages ago on account of being absolutely shattered. Plus, Jyoti had to pack as she was leaving us the following day. One in, one out.

We said our goodbyes at Manchester Airport and then, in the afternoon, we went around to Jenny’s again for her 40th birthday party. Alan and Una were there too as well as Andrea, Paul, Annabel and Emily. A party of 13.

It was nice enough to go in the garden too.

It’s Jenny’s day, but of course, most of the attention was on the children, with Martha doing handstands and never quite going all the way over.

And we began to pack for our next little adventure…

When it cooled off a bit later, we went inside and the children entertained us with various dances. Oh to be so uninhibited, I hope they never lose their joie de vivre.

We’d had quite a feast by the time the birthday cake arrived, but that didn’t stop me from having a slice, maybe two, I can’t quite remember, with my coffee.

In technical news, it was time to get my phone repaired. Replace the battery and fix the volume control buttons. Everyone else, it seems, had broken phones since all the slots at the Samsung repair shop were booked. Plan B was to arrange for an engineer or mechanic to come to mine and fix it. Or technician, as I found such people are called.

It was good to see the Mersey again, and on this bright and sunny Sunday, some people were messing about in boats. I watched and waited, but nobody fell in the water.

I do enjoy listening to podcasts, and have subscribed to quite a few. I’m a bit behind right now, but I hadn’t realised quite how many episodes were in the pile to be listened to.

I think it might take a while catch up, between you and me.

In family news: William can now ride a bike. So he cycled and Martha scootered to their local park one afternoon, with Jenny, Helen and me in hot pursuit.

Liesel has begun a couple of new crochet projects: a sheep and a pelican. Can you tell what this is yet?

That’s right, a pelican

For Jenny’s birthday, she and Helen visited Shrigley Hall Hotel and Spa for a relaxing spa session. In a throwback to the olden days, Dad went to collect them at the end of the evening. What did the spa session entail? As far as I could discern, consuming two bottles of wine between them and spending time in the pool. When I arrived, the Sun was about to set, and I realised what a great setting this place was.

I should be ashamed but I’m not. I consumed the TimTams that Helen brought over for me very quickly. ‘Just one more’ says my evil brain far too often. What’s brown and invisible? No TimTams.

And as May drew to a close and the curtains opened on June, someone reminded me that we’re only six months away from Christmas. Yes, maybe, but we don’t need to know that, thank you very much!

Liesel and I took a bus into Manchester and ate a meal at The Allotment, a vegan eatery. They brought an entirely new vegan experience to the table. The service was a little slow maybe, but the food was good. Me, being me, I did begin to panic that we wouldn’t get to the theatre in time, but we did.

We returned to The Royal Exchgange Theatre to watch No Pay? No Way!, by Dario Fo, originally produced in the 1970s, during an earlier economic crisis. This furious and feisty political comedy is an urgent exploration of our global economic reality, says the blurb. It was very funny and some of the dialogue rings true today, in 2023.

And so the day came to get my phone fixed. The technician arrived early and very quickly gave me the bad news. It could not be repaired. Whoever took the phone apart last time had used the wrong kind of glue, and this had leaked onto the motherboard. You’re going to have to get a new phone. That was exactly what I didn’t want him to say. Apart from anything else, I won’t be going back to that tech shop in Northenden again, and I recommend you don’t either. Just because we’d had good service there before doesn’t mean we will now, with different owners.

Meanwhile, Liesel had gone for a nice long walk with the WI at Lindow Common near Wilmslow.

Obviously, I hadn’t planned to go shopping for a phone, so I hadn’t done any research. But I decided to stick with Samsung, so Liesel and I visited The Trafford Centre. Liesel did some other shopping while I pestered Suresh in the Samsung Shop. Some of the information went over my head, but eventually, I made my choice. Its colour? Awesome violet. It’s a bit scary buying an expensive item such as this on the spur of the moment, but it doesn’t happen very often. Thank goodness.

It took over an hour for the process of copying everything over from the old to the new phone. Well, not quite everything. Over the course of the weekend, I noticed some weird omissions. I spent a lot of time over the weekend making sure all my home pages resembled my old, familiar layout, as much as possible. And as Suresh said, I had to sign in again to most of the apps.

Something I couldn’t carry over were the winning streaks from a couple of my daily puzzles: Nerdle and Full Rainbow.

Earlier in the week, I’d prepared two radio shows, one for this week, Walls, and one for next week, Parks, because we’ll be away next week, hooray!

But having a new, reliable phone definitely trumps that.

The Long and Winding Road

The three of us drove over to Jenny’s on a beautiful Saturday morning. After William’s success last week, we thought it would be nice to watch William and Martha swimming again. We all walked down the road to the pool and were entertained by two young but very competent swimmers for half an hour. I feel good in a special way, I’m in love and it’s a sunny day. Walking back afterwards, we passed some really lovely gardens, well-tended and for a brief moment, I wished we still had a garden.

A lot of daffodils are now past their best-before date, but there are still a few bright patches here and there. Little darlin’, it’s been a long cold lonely Winter, little darlin’, it feels like years since it’s been here. It really is uplifting to be out and about in the sunshine, even if it’s not that warm. It is strange to be walking along, feeling the heat of the Sun on your back while feeling a cold wind on your face.

Later in the day, we met up with the family at Quarry Bank Mill for a quick walk. Martha and William followed the trail which entailed some fun activities such as doing star jumps and even a wheelbarrow race. Desmond has a barrow in the market place, as they say.

The really exciting part, though was at the end. On completion of the nine tasks, they received an Easter egg. I wish I’d picked up an instruction sheet, now. I am the egg-man, they are the egg-men, I am the walrus, goo goo g’joob.

At this point, Martha and William were miles ahead of us so-called grown-ups. They were heading for the playground. We’d had coffee and they’d had ice-cream so the energy levels were high. I get high with a little help from my friends.

In the evening, Liesel, Leslie and I visited our local theatre to watch Northenden Players Theatre Club’s production of Ladies Down Under. It was a full house, well, the capacity is 60 I think, and the play was very well performed. She’s got a ticket to ride. The action mainly takes place near Uluru, and mention was made of staying underground at Coober Pedy, bringing back memories of my trip there in 2002. The set was very clever too, very atmospheric.

Its been a long time, so I paid a visit to Rose Hill Woods, one of Northenden’s best kept secrets. There’s no getting away from the hum of the motorway, but it’s a very peaceful place. Especially when there are no other people about. And I did wonder whether the proximity of the M56 and its noise was responsible for the birds seemingly singing more loudly than usual. And your bird can sing. I’d forgotten how well made the path was too.

This is a memorial to Absalom Watkin who campaigned for electoral reform and for the repeal of the corn laws. It’s amazing to think that a UK government would bring in laws that result in food shortages, huge profits for wealthy landowners along with widespread poverty. It would never happen in the 21st century, of course. Baby you’re a rich man.

Liesel’s a fantastic cook and so it was, she prepared some Indian dishes which we took over to Jenny’s. Don’t worry, we had been invited, it wasn’t a case of just turning up and thrusting our food upon them. It was of course delicious. All together now, all together now. And we had a lot of fun with the children and their marble run. I suspect there are still some marbles under the sofa.

As we’re ‘in training’ for a long walk next month, Liesel and I wandered over to Wythenshawe Park, and walked the boundaries. This Park isn’t as hilly as the long trek we’re planning, but it’s better than nothing. The long and winding road, that leads to your door, will never disappear, I’ve seen that road before. It’s good the see the path being used by cyclists, not so good to see piles of evidence that horses also use it.

We stopped for coffee just before closing time and as we were leaving the park, we saw smoke over by the field with the horses. We think it was probably someone with a disposable barbecue and we suspect the evidence will still be there. Good job there are litter pickers in the park, eh? Help! You know I need someone! Help!

I joined the choir. Yes, I know I can’t sing for toffee but, ‘do something scary every day’. I met Dan last week, had a chat, he kept a straight face as he said I should come along, so I went along. There were far more people than expected, between 50 and 60, and about 10 of us tenors. I’m a tenor! Fortunately, Roger and Nick are very loud tenors and my warblings are nicely drowned out. There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done. Nothing you can sing that can’t be sung.

Sadly, here is some sad news. I’m too emotional to write my own words, so here are details straight from the source.

Over 500 years old, this is the oldest oak in the Dunham Massey deer park: it even predates the historic buildings!

As you can see this special oak is starting to lean towards the moat, this is due to a variety of factors from root compaction to recent storms, as well as the sheer age of this veteran tree.

The Rangers started work in Autumn 2022, thinning some of the older, more ridged branches from the crown of the tree to reduce the sail area, working to prevent the wind from catching it as much as possible. Thinning the top branches has also helped to take some of the weight off, lessening pressure on the root system

Next, in February 2023, they installed a prop to help support the weight of the oak, as this section of the tree will get heavier as the top foliage starts to grow. Help! You know I need someone! Help!

It was another very pleasant walk, again with cold wind in one direction and warm Sun in the other. And I say it’s alright.

Leslie, Liesel and I joined the walks on Wednesday and Thursday, warm Sun, cold wind, not as cold maybe but noticeable. I can’t measure it scientifically, but it seems to me that ever since I had Covid last year, I have noticed the cold much sooner than I used to, even the slightest of cold draughts. Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind, possessing and caressing me.

Sale isn’t that far away, but we’ve seldom been there. We had a lunch date with some folks from the choir, and their spouses. Spouses? Spice? And all the people that come and go stop and say hello. Alanya in Sale was very nice and before we went in, we had a wander around the town. Lots of charity shops and betting shops, even a games arcade.

Liesel and I left Mom at home while we went for an early evening walk along the river. It was very pleasant, mainly because there were so few other people around! Not even on the golf course. In fact, more than pleasant. In fact, it was so warm, we took our coats off, and that’s a first for this year. I also should have worn shorts. Let’s hope for a nice, long, warm Summer. Here comes the sun king, everybody’s laughing, everybody’s happy, here comes the sun king.

That was the week leading up to Easter, so guess what the radio show was about this week? That’s right: Japan. Some Japanese music, plus songs about Japan or that mention the land of the rising Sun. If you missed the Wythenshawe Radio transmission, you can catch up here.

One major disappontment this week. One day, I went out for a walk and left the pedometer at home so there is no step count available. Not once, but twice that day. This will severely affect any statistical analysis that may ensue.

Meetings

I don’t know why, but out of the blue, I remembered a pair of bookends that I had when I was a child. They were wooden. One had a dog and the other had a cat and, when propping up books, it looked as though the cat was about to leap over the books onto the dog. Very cute. And I thought, you don’t see bookends much any more.

It’s always a bonus when you can walk home from a gig. On this occasion, I walked up the road to Northenden Theatre to watch an evening of comedy. Plane Comedy was one of the events that made up Northenden’s Arts Festival a year or so ago. Plane Comedy returned with six comedians. The only thing wrong was, they were all men. Out of six, I can’t believe they couldn’t drag at least one female comedian along to participate. Still, it was a very good evening, hanks to Mike Carter, Charlie Lewis (yeah, him again!), Jack Miller, Ben Hodge, Eddie Fortune, Stan Ridgeway and the MC, Lewis ‘Big Lou’ Jones. I was even able to enjoy alcohol during the interval.

The next day was Mothers’ Day, something that I was totally oblivious to until Liesel mentioned it in passing. She’s still in Anchorage with her Mom and I’m glad to report there hasn’t been any more snow recently. She’s coming home soon so I’ve got to tidy up a bit, and hide evidence of all the rowdy parties I’ve enjoyed.

The first person I met during a busy week of meetings was my GP. We discussed the results of my recent echocardiogram which showed that really, there’s nothing wrong with the old ticker, and I should go back in three years’ time for another echo.

Next up, in Didsbury, I met Chris Mitchell, DJ and entertainer. We met in Didsbury and I recorded our chat for this week’s radio show. It’s his birthday this week too.

Walking the back streets of Didsbury, and guess what I came across?

That’s right, bookends, in the form of two red Ford Fiesta Zetecs. What are the chances?

To conclude a busy day, well, busy by my standards, I attended a meeting in Wythenshawe for us volunteers at the local, community radio station. I’m slowly putting faces to the names and the voices.

It was my turn to collect the children from school this week, and I took them to Quirky Misfits, the coffee shop in Northenden. Martha was delighted to be able to buy the ‘Love Potion’ pendant that she’d asked for last time. Of course, it was only fair that William buy something too. I would never have guessed that he would choose… a pair of halloween socks. ‘It’s not halloween for a long time,’ I said. ‘In this shop, it’s halloween every day,’ said Lydia! Quite right too.

There are some games in the shop too, and William recognised Ker-plunk from school. His level of concentration while putting the device together was lovely to see, even when things didn’t quite go right.

Thankfully, they were both very well bahaved, enjoyed their drinks and snacks. William had a nice brownie, while Martha went for a slice of Cookie Pie. What’s in a Cookie Pie? Cookies around the outside, cookies on the base and all filled with cookies. It was too much: Martha took half of it home in a box. A couple of days later, this advert appeared on Instagram.

Before taking them home, we went for a play in the Riverside Park playground. Yes, after all that sugar, their energy levels were maxed out. I’m not sure William’s quite got the idea of ‘slides’…

Nor of monkey bars…

Oh well!

After taking Martha and William home, I set off for Salford. Liesel and Leslie should have been with me, to watch Danny Baker again. The show was similar to the Buxton edition a few weeks ago, but as time goes on the stories change and morph. Another three and a half hours non-stop talking and pacing up and down the stage.

After the show, I asked a member of staff to take me ’round the back’ to meet Danny. He’d invited me (well, all listeners to his Treehouse podcast) to go round the back whenever we saw him.

We had a nice chat and he gave me a terrific voicenote/jingle thing for my own radio show. Tune in to hear it sometime! Of course, in the heat of the moment, I forgot to take his picture in the luxurious dressing room. And I forgot to show off my collection of the giveaways from various incarnations of his show over the years. And I think he is genuinely looking forward to retiring, to his third act.

And lo, it was my birthday. I feel I’ve had enough birthdays. So, treating it as a normal day, I went out for the second of three organised walks this week. Today’s was a bit wet. Light drizzle mostly but quite a downpour for a couple of minutes. So much so, that one of our number took a tram back to the Forum. The rest of us merely took a shortcut, missing out some potentially slippery woods.

William and Martha invited me out for a birthday meal, so I went round to their place and we all walked over to Gusto.

Very nice, very tasty, thank you.

Back to Wythenshawe next day for another walk followed by a coffee! In the afternoon, I witnessed the event of the week in Northenden. The official opening of the Little Library in the Riverside Park playground. We’d seen it there when we went to play after school, but I didn’t realise at the time that it had only been intsalled the previous day.

Anyone can leave, borrow or take books, so I hope it gets well used.

It was nice to see a few local celebrities there too, Dave the chief local litter-picker, Mary the ex-councillor and Pam the poet who recited one of her poems.

On this week’s radio show, I had a chat with Chris Mitchell (as mentioned before) and I also celebrated my birthday so if you missed it on Wythenshawe Radio, click here to catch up.

Three threes

The old printer has found a new home, I hope the new carers get years of enjoyment out of it. Meanwhile, our new printer is doing a great job, at least in terms of printing black and white documents. One day, we’ll try and print photos, in colour.

Still messing around with ChatGPT, here’s a little sonnet that it wrote at my request:

From Liesel’s phone, she captured the sunset,
A moment of beauty, worth sharing with all,
For eyes to witness, with no need to fret,
Her photo would inspire, both big and small.

The hues of orange and pink fill the sky,
A sight so serene, it’s hard to describe,
Her lens captures it all, no need to try,
For her photo tells a story, with no bribe.

The sun bids adieu, as it fades away,
But Liesel’s photo remains for us to see,
It reminds us to cherish every day,
And the beauty that’s around, for you and me.

So, let’s give thanks to Liesel’s lovely shot,
For sharing with us a moment we’ve sought.

It was a good week for pounding the beat locally. There are more signs of Spring now, although I don’t think we’ve seen the last of the really cold weather. Someone mentioned the beast from the east, and even that phrase alone makes me shiver, brrr.

We participated in all three organised walks this, meeting a few new people on the way. One afternoon, I’m glad I had a good reason to nip over to Benchill, otherwise I might have missed this unusual cloud formation.

We don’t have a night out for ages and then the have three in a week. I’ve been meaning to go for a long time, but this week, I actually ventured into Manchester to watch some comedy: Jokes at the Oaks. The venue is The Seven Oaks pub in Manchester’s Chinatown.

It was a very entertaining evening, with comedy from Dan Tiernan (who was on my radio show a couple of weeks ago), Charlie Lewis, Hayley Ellis, Jordan Ducharme, Harry Stickini and James Heath (any of whom would be welcome on my show, any time). The room was packed, and we all had a great time.

Our second evening of entertainment was provided by folk singer Frankie Archer (she was on my show a couple of weeks ago too). This time, we were at a much smaller venue, The Talleyrand, and there was a small but perfectly formed audience. She held us rapt for just over an hour, even when the subject matter of some of the songs was potentially upsetting. You don’t realise how many folk songs are murder songs, until someone points it out.

We drove over to Buxton for our next night out, a return visit to the gorgeous Buxton Opera House. Here we laughed and chuckled at Danny Baker’s third and final (maybe) solo stage show, in which he took us through his radio and TV careers. Lots of name-dropping of course, plenty of mentions of his Dad, Spud, plus some very funny stories.

This guy can’t stand still when he’s talking at 90 mph, so I’m guessing he clocked up about 20,000 steps on stage that night during the monologue that lasted well over three hours.

This show was a complete antidote to the disaster that occurred earlier in the day. I installed the newly acquired power supply unit in the old PC, verging on the limits of my technical expertise and competence. I took photos of the innards so that I would make all the right connections.

I hoovered up as much dust as I could without sucking up any components. Then the moment of truth. Plug in, turn on at the wall, switch on at the back and finally, press the big button to boot up the PC. Nothing. Not a flicker of life. Nada. Whatever the problem is, it’s beyond me. Do I take it to an expert to fix? I could, but that would be an expense far beyond the value of the thing. Since there are still files on the old hard disk drive to copy off, I removed the HDD with a view to connecting it to my laptop eventually. Because I could, I also disconnected the CD/DVD player. The rest will be deposited lovingly in its final resting place: down the road at the tip. What a shame. I was using Windows 7 and even Windows XP on the old PC right up until just before Christmas. Now, on the laptop, it’s Windows 11 all the way. That’s progress, I suppose.

On the radio show this week, I attempted to build a house using song titles and lyrics. If you missed it on Wythenshawe Radio, you can catch it here on Mixcloud. The Mixcloud version has a house and an extension, an extra hour of songs which I hope you enjoy.

Three walks, three technical issues, three nights out, three threes, see, it all makes sense!