tv – Mick and Liesel's Antics

Tour de Everyday Life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I hope nobody was inside when this happened.

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

David Bowie with a fried egg on his collarbone

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

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

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

Time to go Home

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

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

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

Donald J. Trump
@realDonald Trump

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

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, alright, I made the last one up.

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

• Eat here and get gas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Quirky places

Buzz drove me, Liesel and Leslie to Tinkertown Museum, one of Albuquerque’s more quirky attractions. On arrival, I couldn’t help but notice that they’re still celebrating the fact that in June, 1997, they were visited by the top TV show Good Morning America.

The next thing I noticed was that most of the walls are made from bottles stuck together with some kind of mortar. There must be a name for this innovative construction method.

Inside the museum, you see a wonderfully eclectic collection of objects: for example, we found ourselves treading on horsehoes embedded in the floor. There are hundreds of old vehicle registrartion number plates, some of which are just a small amount of rust held together by pure luck.

As one homemade sign says: Tinker Town was started as a hobby in 1962. It was not intended as a public display until your interest helped build our museum.

It was a fascinating character called Ross Ward who started the museum. Many of his wood carvings are on display, featured in displays of fairgrounds, wagon trains and other exhibits. Some are animated, and some have buttons to press. It’s all great fun.

The smallest wedding couple are fleas (I hope I’m not giving too much away). There’s a one-man band named Otto, who’ll play something for a quarter. Yes, Sarah, who greeted us, made sure to give us some quarters when we paid to enter.

I had my fortune told, and it looks like everything’s coming up roses. For another 25 cents, I shook hands with Uncle Sam and his conclusion was that I am a romantic. On the other hand, in the next room, the Career Pilot told me I was destined to be a fish seller.

There’s a 35-foot long wooden sailboat that Fritz Damler spent ten years sailing around the world, losing one wife, finding another.

We thought we’d finished wandering around the museum, but no, there was plenty more to look at outside.

It was a fun place to visit, but we both thought it needed a bit of TLC: many of the displays were dusty, but I suppose that can’t be helped in a desert.

Lunch was taken at The Cheesecake Factory but my Impossible® Burger didn’t leave enough room for some actual cheesecake. Also, we weren’t served by Penny from The Big Bang Theory.

Buzz drove us up the hill to give us a nice all-round view. I say ‘hill’ but that’s an understatement. We drove up and up a long and winding road, with plenty of nearly hairpin bends, to reach the top, Sandia Crest, the highest peak in the Sandia mountains. Albuquerque is about a mile above sea level and Sandia Crest is another mile above Albuquerque. On a clear day, you can apparently see 100 miles in each direction. Today wasn’t that clear. But it did feel a bit ooky looking down on what might have been a model of the city of Albuquerque, a mile below.

Another really noticeable difference was the temperature. At the top, it was 56°F (13°C) and back at the bottom, on the way back, the mercury reached a massive 81°F (27°C).

Liesel and I had arranged to meet up with Tammy and Aaron one more time in Santa Fe. So after packing, we set off in a northerly direction.

Highlights of the drive up the I-25? Seeing some horses by the side of the road. And we saw a few small dust devils, which would be called ‘willy-willys’ in Australia.

We stopped briefly at a rest stop: such a place wouldn’t normally be of interest to anyone, but here there was a sign for the New Mexico Historic Women Marker Initiative, founded in 2005 by the New Mexico Women’s Forum. The 2006 Legislature funded the project to recognize women’s contributions to New Mexico history with official historic markers.

This is one of nearly 100 markers erected across the state, recognising women’s contributions in various fields, including arts, business, education, government, healthcare, and science.

Both Albuquerque and Santa Fe are rightly proud of their murals. This very colourful one celebrates Adelitas, women who supported the Mexican Revolution. It’s outside a Mexican restaurant in Santa Fe, and we passed it on our way to Meow Wolf: House of Eternal Return. This is a large-scale interactive and immersive art installation, a 20,000-square-foot (1,900 m²) facility, including a concert venue.

‘Quirky’ is the word you’re looking for. As you walk through the different rooms, you’re supposed to be able to piece together a story. It’s probably easier with the app, but I was unable to download the app because, it said, I was in the wrong region. Probably it meant that my phone was UK-based.

There were many strange noises and effects, lots of user interaction, though I don’t think everything worked as it should. There were aliens, strange creatures, and it was very colourful.

You can crawl through fireplaces, climb into fridges, enter a wardrobe and come out through a bookcase.

It felt a bit like an escape room, but with no specific puzzle to solve. We’d still be there if we’d tried to read all the printed material lying around, newspapers, books, journals, video displays.

Some of the video games required tokens, which we didn’t purchase for our human dollars. And there were some obvious nods to science fiction characters such as those from Star Wars.

A couple of rooms were designed to look like cartoon strips, just black and white imagery.

You need to visit to see and enjoy the whole experience, of course: no more spoilers here.

We found a place for a delicious ice cream. Two scoops for me: green chili and vanilla flavour, a perfect combination. While sitting inside the parlour to enjoy our treats, a group of young people were outside decorating the pavement. There was no political message, just a lot of squiggles in blue paint.

We arrived at Tammy’s house bang on 6 o’clock, our agreed time, after driving via the local supermarket.

Almost immediately, Tammy whisked us away to El Dorado Fusion Tacos. We ordered our meals, said we were going to the pub next door, Santa Fe Brewing Company Eldorado, and the guy said they’d bring our food over.

No, I don’t know why sometimes it’s one word and sometimes two words: Eldorado or El Dorado? Anyway, it is the title of one of my favourite ELO records.

Aaron joined us straight from work and we ate, drank and prepared ourselves for a gruelling pub quiz.

In the end, there were only 16 questions, with a points system based on the TV quiz show Jeopardy, so 200, 300, 400 or 500 points for a correct answer. There were four categories.

After the main quiz, our team, Autopilots, was tied in the lead with Rolling Stones, both of us having a score of 3200 points. The quiz is decided though, again in a twist from Jeopardy, in which the teams wager a certain number of points on one final question. We bet all 3200, of course. But we got the answer wrong and ended up with zero. No wooden spoon for losers here, though!

Great fun, but all over by about 9pm. On the drive home, we observed a very thin crescent Moon just about to follow the Sun and set. I should have brought my telescope, but I’d decided not to because I thought the quiz would finish much later and we wouldn’t have time to use it. So what’s the best my phone could do?

PS I would have taken a picture of a slighly fatter crescent the following night if only there hadn’t been 100% cloud cover over Albuquerque, but that’s all to come…

Branching out

We were sorry to miss Martha’s birthday again, but we spoke to her briefly online. She was about to sink her teeth into her third birthday cake. Not to mention a delicious beverage in a Greek restaurant.

Just as exciting, for me, was the continuation of my own birhday. Jenny and Helen had arranged for their present for me to be sent here to Buzz’s place and I wasn’t allowed to see it until we were all together, chatting online. It was lovely to see them both nd we had a good chat.

Half of Jenny, half of Helen and a whole Mick

I opened the box online, and it did feel like one of those influencer-style unboxing videos on Instagram that come up and bore us from time to time. Thank you Helen and Jenny, it was a fantastic idea, something that I’d never thought to have asked for. I am now the proud owner of a Seestar S50, a smart telescope that (of course) is controlled via an app and will let me take some fab pictures of the night sky.

It’s a bit of a learning curve (where did that phrase come from?) but I’ll get there. Being the middle of the afternoon, the obvious celestial object to look at right now was the Sun. After several failed attempts, due to incompetence, plus clouds getting in the way, here is the very first decent image.

I have so many ideas of objects that I’d like to capture myself in the coming weeks and months. I have admired (and been envious of) many of the pictures taken by others over the years.

The following night, I stayed up late to see the night sky. The Moon was the obvious next target: it’s big, and just a few days from being full.

Because of street lights, and other issues, I couldn’t focus on any stars or planets, but that will come with time. Watch this space. Again, thank you very much, Jenny and Helen.

One of the best ways to see a city is on a bus tour. Here in Albuquerque, Liesel, Leslie and I chose to go on a Trolley Tour of the city. Our guide (sorry, I can’t recall her name) was very informative and, given all the various jobs she’s had over the years, in several states, she must be about 120 years old. Half Indian and half Spanish/Mexican.

Explora Science Center and Children’s Museum

I wondered whether all the landmarks would feature domes, but no, I think these were the only two. We passed by several buildings and sites that feature in the TV series Breaking Bad, but of course, not having watched it, despite several recommendations from lots of people, they didn’t mean much to us. Our guide was once a carpenter, and she was responsible for laying a floor in a room for a scene in Breaking Bad. One of the characters said it was a lovely wooden floor. Now, that is a claim to fame.

We drove along a section of the old Route 66, 18 miles of which is within the city boundaries.

The city supports local artists and is very proud of the murals that appear everywhere, on pretty much every otherwise blank wall.

What we find amazing is that none of the artwork has been spoilt by graffiti or tagging. So civilised.

The local Minor League Baseball Team is known as Albuquerque Isotopes, so named following a sequence in an old Simpsons episode, and a popular name due to the large number of scientific facilities in the state dealing with nuclear research. Remember that for your next pub quiz.

In the afternoon, Liesel and I visited the New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science. Not at all because we wanted to escape the heat of the day! Actually, it’s a great place, lots of focus on dinosaurs and climate change.

Greeting us in the museum was the Bisti Beast, an animated model of Bistahieversor (meaning “Bistahi destroyer”), an early
ancestor of Tyrannosaurus rex.

Yes, of course I had to take a selfie using the camera on the life-size replica of the Mars Exploration Rover Opportunity. Does that make us Martians?

In the planetarium, we watched Life: A Cosmic Story, telling us how life bgan on Earth. Being narrated by Jodie Foster wasn’t enough to prevent Liesel from nodding off a bit. Well, it was warm and dark and the seats were so comfortable…

Another video we watched was about the asteroid that ultimately made the dinosaurs extinct.

The Chicxulub Impact

The Chicxulub (CHIK-shoo-loob) crater is believed by scientists to have been created by the asteroid impact that ended the Cretaceous Period. The crater was named after a nearby village. “Chicxulub” is a Mayan word that means “sign of the horns.” Half of the crater is buried beneath the limestone plains of the Yucatan and half beneath the water and sediment of the Gulf of Mexico. Instruments have shown that the whole crater is about 112 miles in diameter. The object that created this crater was probably about six miles in diameter and traveling at a speed of 9 to 12 miles per second when it struck the Earth. On impact, it released energy equivalent to the explosion of more than five billion tons of TNT.

The plaque onsite has a typo, which I have corrected here in this reproduction. But what amazed me was, what great quality the film was from 65 million years ago,

Outside it was now 88°F according to the car’s display, 31°C.

Lots to celebrate

The magnolias are in blossom and that’s another good sign that Spring really might be here. I walked up the road for a repeat visit to the dental hygienist. Last week, she took care of my bottom

set of teeth and this week, my top teeth were given a deep clean. A deep and very uncomfortable, unpleasant clean. A necessary procedure, I know, if I wish to preserve the gnashers for a few more years, but I’m so glad I remembered to dose myself up on painkillers before the visit.

After picking the children up from school this week, it was nice enough outside to go litter picking, an activity that we’ve been neglecting a bit lately. There’s a lot to pick up, so why they have to haggle over the smallest piece of rubbish on the pavement or in a hedge is beyond me. Still, they did a great job, and the bag left by the litter bin was taken away by the following morning. Martha was especially proud of the old rusty padlock that she found. It’s now time for the Great British Spring Clean, so please join us in a spot of litter picking, and get some fresh air at the same time.

At home, Liesel cooked us all a lovely, spicy, Indian meal. William and I played hangman and both children made something that will be a surprise for someone special sometime soon.

Some days are like dominoes. One topples over then another then something else goes wrong and then something else and oh my goodness, no wonder I’m drinking wine out of a pint glass. Cheers!

Neither wife nor mother-in-law joined me on the walk this morning, which may have been a blessing in disguise. Nobody was sitting on the other side of the table from me in the coffee shop, so nobody was drownded by the cup of decaff latté that I knocked over. The barista, who was new to the establishment, was very good about it and cleaned up my mess. My replacement drink was nice and I was very careful not to twitch, jerk or make any other sudden movements.

Liesel has booked a weekend away for the end of the month, which is great, but at first I was a bit miffed that we would miss seeing Maisie Adam perform just up the road at Boxx2Boxx. I very sheepishly had to ask if they’d take the tickets back.

At home, Liesel pointed out the funny noise being emitted by the soundbar every 50 seconds or so. A bit like the noise loudspeakers used to make when a call was coming into a mobile phone on the O2 network. A quick investigation revealed that the strange noise would appear whether the TV was on or not, and when the soundbar was playing sounds via Bluetooth. Looking at the internet for help, the next step would be to get in touch with the supplier. I suspect the soundbar is probably out of guarantee by one day. Sod’s law.

John Lewis sent a message with a two-hour window for installation of the new dishwasher. The engineers arrived, very professional and friendly. But full of bad news. First, our current dishwasher has been connected to the hot water supply and it shouldn’t have been. If they disconnect the hose from that pipe, it will probably leak. So, before installing the new machine, that pipe needs to be capped off and these guys couldn’t do that: we’d need a real plumber.

Then, on closer inspection, they couldn’t install the new machine anyway because it needs to be a ‘top-fitting’ appliance, not ‘side-fitting’, otherwise the wooden door that is fitted to the front would be in the wrong place. Or something. We’d have to order a different model. I called a plumber and waited for him to return the call: he is someone we’ve used before so I hope he’s still in business.

Liesel and Leslie were out at this point, enjoying coffee with the ladies of the WI, and I dreaded giving Liesel the bad news: no new dishwasher.

So I revisited the soundbar. Run out of ideas. I unplugged the whole lot: soundbar, TV, Freeview box and internet router. The strange sound was still being made. Uh? I followed my ears. It was the old Simon game, on the floor, beneath all the aforementioned electronic devices. Liesel had brought it back from Alaska some time ago, thinking Martha and William would enjoy playing it. But it needed new batteries, two different sizes and we only had one. Well, I now remembered that the previous night, Martha showed interest in it, and I think she must have left the switch ‘on’, even though that didn’t provide full functionality. And Simon has been beeping, tweeting ever since. Well, that was an easy fix in the end, but what a fiasco.

Feeling peeved about the dishwasher yet relieved that I’d resolved one issue, I poured myself a half pint of wine. Then I opened a birthday parcel early thinking it might be chocolate, purely for medicinal purposes of course. But instead it was whisky, a welcome gift from Pauline and Andrew, which I shall indulge in very soon. Not on top of all the vino, though.

We binge-watched a drama on TV called Protection. About halfway through the third episode, I realised it wasn’t about family planning, after all. It was most enjoyable, though.

The plumber never called back, so I got in touch with another one. He agreed to come over later that afternoon. He made the necessary changes to the various connections, hoses and pipes under the kitchen sink.

So, how’s the new dishwasher? Nobody else at John Lewis can see why the machine that we ordered can’t be installed. We even drove over to John Lewis in the Trafford Centre to speak to an expert, and he didn’t have a scooby either.

It was dark by the time we left, after eating at Tampopo for the first time in many years. Liesel’s been on the phone to customer services, left on hold for ages while they investgate, but today, five days later, we still have no dishwasher.

The Friday walk took us through Painswick Park as usual, but what was unusual was seeing a coot out of the water.

A few years ago, I enjoyed re-reading Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield. Recently I have been plodding and slogging my way through a modern day take on the tale, Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver. My review, for what it’s worth: it’s too long and it’s nowhere near as funny. I’m sure there are many American cultural references that I missed out on, but I just kept saying, ‘get on with it’ and ‘OK, I get the message.’ There’s an opioid addiction problem in the United States, I get that, but I found it depressing to read that much about it.

More TV: we watched the new film Conclave from the comfort of our own home. It was good, interesting, entertaining but, suddenly, was that it? It was over. Compared with a six-part TV drama, it was very short. No spoilers, but we’d like to see Part 2 in which we see how the newly elected Pope gets on.

It was a dark and stormy night in March, 1955. Mount Alvernia Hospital, Guildford. A woman was in pain and being helped by a Sister Frances to give birth to a bouncing 7 lb 8 oz baby boy at quarter to three in the morning. The baby’s cries were audible even above the thunderstorm raging outside. The woman’s name was Betty. She and her husband bestowed the names Michael David on the infant. Michael: no idea where that came from. David: that was the father’s name. Yes, it was me! And this weekend, I celebrated my 70th birthday.

Liesel had an appointment in Manchester so while waiting, Leslie and I visited the Whitworth Gallery and wandered around the exhibition, JMW Turner: in Light and Shade. The exhibition pairs Turner’s evocative Liber prints with a series of his watercolours from the Whitworth’s own collection, as well as loaned works from public and private collections. As invited, we explored Turner’s artistic legacy and the significance of his prints. Etchings, mezzotints, the prints were all quite small and monochrome, but the watercolours were easier on the eye. I was pleased to see that JMW Turner visited Guildford, where I was brought up, at least once.

We drove home via La Chouquette where I picked up a loaf of bread and a chocolate-based birthday cake. Back at home, I opened my cards and a couple of pressies. Chocolate, chocolate and chocolate! Not complaining at all!

We drove to the restaurant Delhi Dream in Cheadle and met up with Jenny, Liam, Martha and William for a big family celebration. Martha had brought the helium balloon with my latest age upon it, not at all embarrassing.

We had a lovely meal, lots of food, almost too much. And the waiter realising it was my special day, gave me a bowl of ice cream with some cherries. I struggled even to eat the ice cream, that’s how full I was.

Back at Jenny’s, I was presented with a cake baked and decorated by the grandchildren. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to determine which is the shop-bought and which is the home-baked cake. No prizes, just for fun, as they say!

It took a while, but things settled down and I was able to enjoy a slice of each of the cakes with a cup of tea. It was difficult to move for the rest of the day, but worth it.

Martha and William were more excited about my birthday than I was, I think. No children were harmed in the demonstration of their kick-boxing skills.

Jenny, William, Martha, old fart, Liesel

So another year older, not that I feel it really, I still alternate between 70 (now), 29 and 14.

If you require details of my new cake, chocolate and whisky diet, just let me know.

What’s going on?

Mahjong is a game that I’ve never played with real tiles, but a few decades ago, I did enjoy playing it on the computer. This week, I downloaded a version onto my phone. It’s very addictive so, after reaching level 200, I deleted the app. Good fun though. And I’m sure the way I describe the Chinese characters and symbols on each of the tiles to myself has nothing to do with what they actually represent. The funny thing is, Liesel too has downloaded an addictive game onto her phone, and when she’s in the zone, she’s really in the zone.

It was pancake day and as there are now three of us in this household, I increased the volume of my batter mix by 50%. I do venture into the kitchen more than once a year, honest, and I’m glad to report that none of my tossed pancakes fell on the floor nor stuck to the ceiling. We had a mix of savoury and sweet, but I think my favourite will always be freshly squeezed lemon juice and white sugar.

In local news, gas mains are being replaced in Royle Green Road, round the corner from us. They’re working from both ends, which means whichever way we want to leave home, we have to wait in a usually long queue for traffic lights to change.

And if I wanted to draw attention to a specific house, this is exactly how I’d do it. With a nice big yellow loop.

It’ll be nice when it’s finished.

The Wednesday walk through the woods was wonderful, although Liesel missed out on account of having lots of work to do.

The Thursday walk through the parks and woods of Wythenshawe was probably wonderful too, but I wouldn’t know, on account of not waking up in time.

World Book Day was again celebrated by William and Martha and their schoolmates.

Leslie and I just went for a short walk in the sunshine to the community library and back: we had just one book to return.

It’s always nice to see Spring flowers surviving despite being so close to the public footpath.

The Friday walk was wonderful too, the short one in Wythenshawe. Again, Liesel was working so I took Leslie along. And then, in the afternoon, the three of us visited Dunham Massey for another quick wander in the sunshine. And, for the first time this year, I got my lallies out. Yes, it was warm enough to wear shorts and I displayed my pasty white legs for everyone’s enjoyment.

The Holly here and by the wooden bridge have been cut back as part of a 4-5 year cycle to allow more Light into borders and Keep the Holly at an appropriate Size.

The Gardeners

Well, I’m sure they know what they’re doing, but, have they cut back too far?

As we were leaving, Liesel spotted a heron over the water, sitting in a tree, which is unusual. It made us wonder again what has become of the heron that used to live on the Mersey near us? We haven’t seen him for several months.

That’s one National Trust property. One’s not enough, so we visited two more a couple of days later.

We have been here before, but not for a few years. This photo is almost identical to the one I posted last time. Spot the differences.

We met up with Jenny and family for a picnic as it was a beautiful, warm, sunny day. We walked around the house with its wonky floors and creaky walls. It’s a fascinating place and I think Martha and William enjoyed looking at the old artefacts

The guide told us that this mantlepiece is one of only 4 places that are truly horizontal in the whole house. In real life, it looks crooked because the wall is leaning over and the floor is on a slope. He also told us a lot more about the history of the place. A guy called William Gee did a lot of the handiwork here and he oftem brought along his granddaughter, Mary Martha. Both are commemorated in a few of the 32,000 glass segments that comprise the windows of the great hall.

After eating our picnic lunch, we went for a bit of a walk. Through a few gates, but I stopped at one because I felt it was too muddy for my shoes. So while the others proceeded, I carried our picnic bag back to the car. I wish I hadn’t. I missed watching Martha plopping through the mud, losing one shoe, then another and ending up very dirty. Liesel and Jenny tried their hardest not to laugh. I’m sure I would have kept my composure as I took photos, but sadly, I missed the incident.

For a longer walk, we decided to go onto out third NT property of the weekend, Biddulph Grange Garden. The children were of course still full of energy and probably ran twice as far as us old folks walked.

They both enjoyed the climbing apparatus along the path, as well as climbing a fallen tree.

Jenny, Liam, Martha, William, Liesel, Leslie

Soon after 4pm, we went our separate ways. Thanks to the fresh air and exercise, Liesel, Leslie and I were all tired so we ordered a pizza and picked it up on the way home. Very nice, very tasty. Then I received a text message and an email telling me that because they were out of some ingredients, they’d cancelled my order. As they say: to err is human, to really mess things up, get a computer system.

Well, I don’t often get drunk any more, I just can’t drink enough volume of beer or whisky. Plus I’m worried about how my bladder will behave later in the day. Recently, we’ve been binge watching the ITV medical drama, The Royal, about a community hospital in the 1960s. There’s one piece of dialogue that crops up often on many TV drama series: “What’s going on?” Yes, someone walks in on a discussion between other people and exclaims, “What’s going on?” Liesel and I started a drinking game while watching The Royal. One swig of whisky for every “What’s going on?” A double swig for every “What on Earth is going on?” And on the rare occasion it’s “What the Hell is going on?”, we enjoy a triple slurp. Yep, I haven’t been that drunk for years.

The other thing I enjoy about the show is the music, mostly from the 1960s, and including many Beatles songs. But the final episode of what turned out to be the final series ended with a Pink Floyd song from 1973.

Obviously, listening to a New Scientist podcast about sleep was going to send me to sleep. It did. Twice. Fascinating subject of course, but it took me three goes to hear it to its conclusion.

Mud, mud, glorious mud

We continue to walk around the streets and parks of Americashawe and Northenamerica and along the banks of the River America. Spring is in the air, the crocuses and daffs are adding colour to the bare earth. And we are grateful that America’s new president hasn’t renamed absolutely everything, just Denali and Chalchiuhtlicueyecatl so far, now to be referred to as Mount McKinley and the Gulf of America. If I could be bothered and if the whole thing weren’t so tragic and ridiculous, I’d produce a cartoon series about Donald Trump and the world’s richest man, called Felon and Elon.

Seth Lakeman and his band drove all the way to Buxton where we saw him perform at the Opera House. We recognised most of the songs, although not well enough to sing along, much to Liesel’s delight. She’d booked back row seats, and, as planned, she stood up to dance. It was good to see Leslie tapping her feet and clapping along to the tunes too.

Google Maps took us home along country lanes, rather than the main road, the A6, and that would have been lovely if it hadn’t been so dark and we could have admired the scenery.

This drive was but a rehearsal for the much longer journey the next day. We drove to Sussex, over five hours on the road. I say ‘we drove’, but as is usually the case, Liesel drove the whole way while I tried to stay awake in the passenger seat. It was dark by the time we arrived at our home for the weekend, the Woodlands Cottage within the National Trust property Nymans. In the dark, I had to wrestle with an old, sturdy but rusty padlock on a heavy gate while trying not to slip in the mud on the very wet path.

After a good night’s sleep in the cottage, we were woken by some glorious birdsong, something we don’t hear much of at home. Nothing against our local magpies, but we could do with some variety!

After breakfast, back on the road, this time to Polesden Lacey, another National Trust property. Here we met up with some of Liesel’s old friends and their men from when she worked in Dorking. It was lovely to see Sandra and Fred again after all these years, and I don’t mean just because Sandra gave us some of her delicious, homemade, fridge cake!

The recipe is a secret otherwise I’d be happy to reproduce it here. Suffice to say, chocolate is involved.

I also met Vicky for the first time with her husband Andrew: it was their cottage in the Lake District that we stayed at several years ago. And yes, it would be nice to go back.

After a coffee and a long chat, we all went for a walk in the grounds. It’s not every day you find a turtle in a tree.

I think it was part of a half-term treasure hunt, but it might just as easily been the result of a two-year old’s temper tantrum, I suppose. Our walk wasn’t as long as anticipated: we stopped at the children’s playground where Holly’s son had a great time.

Entertainment was also provided by Clyde, Sandra and Fred’s little Lhasa apso, and a stick.

I’ve never had an organised reunion with a group of former work colleagues like this, but I have kept in touch with a few individuals, mostly online of course, these days.

I think all of the statues were wrapped up for some reason, maybe to protect from the elements, but if that’s the case, why leave them outside? I bet other places don’t wrap up their outdoor art in this way.

After the goodbyes, we returned to our cottage just in time before the heavens opened. The rain was loud that night, and so much of it!

We went for a walk in the woods and the gardens, mostly following the ‘blue route’. There was a lot of mud around and when we got home to Northenden, we scraped most of it off our shoes and sent it back to Sussex.

There were plenty of other folks walking through the woods, and most of them had more suitable footwear such as wellington boots. And we saw a lot of filthy dogs too: I hope they send the mud from their coats back otherwise the tree roots will have nothing to hide under.

Some ducks came out of the lake up onto the path, not bothered by us, nor expecting to be fed by us.

This is probably my favourite tree, mainly because it contains all the vowels.

Last time we went away from home for the weekend, there were floods at home. This time, we missed a big fire in Wythenshawe, just behind the hospital.

(Sorry, I don’t know whose photo that is, but thanks!)

We found a cafe that was packed so we carried on our wander and found a smaller, less packed one. I enjoyed my scone with jam and clotted cream.

Although we were out in the countryside, we didn’t see a lot of wildlife. A few birds and a couple of worms that had strayed onto the path. Even by the cottage, we thought we might hear something moving about outside, especially at night, but no, nothing. But we did come across these beasties on our walk.

As mentioned above, I really didn’t expect to see another sculpture wrapped in plastic, but there were a few here, too.

Maybe it’s a southern English thing.

It was a lovely long walk today, even if a bit muddy in places. I looked at my pedometer to see how far we’d traipsed and, oh no, utter disaster, its battery was dead. All those tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of steps over the last day or so, all gone to waste, not counted, totted up, enumerated nor accounted for. What an absolute tragedy. Liesel thinks I’m obsessed but what am I supposed to do when there is no data to enter into the spreadsheet? The statistics will all be wrong. In protest, I sat down and refused to carry on. Well, I didn’t, but how daft that the thought even occurred to me? Oh well, c’est la vie. I replaced the battery at home the following day, and, correlating the numbers with my previous readings on the spreadsheet, I concluded that the battery must have died sometime while at Polesden Lacey.

We had one more night at the cottage before returning home. There was a TV on the premises and a DVD player which Liesel made good use of: over the weekend, she watched the whole of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, maybe not avidly all the time, but it was on in the background while I read a book and did some puzzles.

On the drive home, we did something we’ve not done for a while. We avoided the M6 Toll Road, saving nearly £10 and only taking five minutes longer to get home, via the original M6.

We picked the children up from school and took them to Bruntwood Park for a short play. A tree had fallen across the path, which we all climbed over, of course. And there was some colour here too.

It wasn’t the warmest Spring day, but I think they had fun in the sandpit, after their ice cream snack.

Liesel made it at home but we enjoyed the corn chowder and garlic bread at the children’s house because we had to make a quick getaway.

Somewhere else we haven’t been for a little while is London’s National Theatre. We didn’t go this week either, but we did see one of their productions on the big screen here at Stockport’s Plaza. We’ve seen The Importance of Being Earnest before, but this performance was very good, very funny, and I’m sure the cast weren’t taking it too seriously, lots of winking at the camera, especially from Ncuti Gatwa, who we know from Doctor Who.

The three of us joined the Thrive Walk in Wythenshawe. There was a long queue for something in the Forum so I thought I’d better join it, it might be for something interesting, Led Zep tickets or something. But no, these people were all interested in a job at Manchester Airport.

We should be able to see a parade of seven planets in the night sky, around now. But there’s just too much light pollution, even when it’s not total cloud cover here. Plus of course, I don’t have any equipment. Still, Venus is always easy to spot.

And as this post comes to an end, let me show you another terrific Northenden sunset.

Southbound

The final WI Committee meeting of the year took place, and according to Liesel, it didn’t turn into a drunken orgy. But whatever happened, it didn’t make the local newspaper.

On Christmas Eve, we treated the car to a wash and brush-up. I think most of the moss and the guano was washed off and the wheel hubs look much better without that layer of rust. I sometimes wonder whether the dirt is holding the vehicle together.

Later on, the family came round for our (new tradional) Christmas Eve potato and leek soup (Liesel’s version), salad and a selection of home-baked cookies: thank you Liesel. After clearing the table, we played the Dreidel Game for Hannukah. Martha and William enjoy the game, even more so when they know that regardless of the outcome, they’ll be going away with a tub of chocolate coins.

We enjoyed another wonderful Northenden sunset, not all the colours of the rainbow, but at least one of them.

Christmas Day, the most wonderful day of the year, according to at least one song. We shared in William and Martha’s excitement when we went round for brunch. Not when they first woke up, though, soon after 3.00am!

We went for a postprandial perambulation to a nearby playground, passing through the graveyard. Martha rode her bike, William scootered because one of his bicycle tyres was flat. It was a very pleasant afternoon and we burned off about 2% of the calories consumed earlier.

Did I say brunch? It was a huge meal, so much so, that we didn’t need to eat much at home for the rest of the day, just a quick snack. The Christmas Doctor Who was good. We also watched the final ever Gavin & Stacey. We saved Wallace and Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl for the next day! Hundreds of pages of listings in the Radio Times, and that’s pretty much all it came down to, for us.

On the radio, Wythenshawe FM repearted one of my Christmas shows from a couople of years ago, and on Boom Radio, we heard a 2-special celebrating Kenny Everett’s time on Radio Luxembourg and Capital Radio, on what would have been his 80th birthday. An d I am enjoying the latest, the 82nd, series of I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue on Radio 4

Sad to say we didn’t move much at all for the next couple of days. If I were into New Year’s Resolutions, mine would be to definitely go for a walk every single day. But I’m not. I resolve to do that quite frequently, throughout they year, and it never lasts long

Meanwhile, in Christchurch, New Zealand, Pauline and Andrew have signed up for this very special party in the new year.

We’d been looking forward to our end-of-year visit to London for some time. Again, we decided not to book a train, the service is so unreliable. We drove south: the traffic wasn’t too bad.

Once we hit the M6, Liesel didn’t need a lot of help with navigating, and I did my best not to fall asleep. In the back seat, Leslie was counting birds’ nests in the trees and concentrated long enough to reach 100. If she’d been counting sheep instead, she might easily have fallen asleep.

At the services, the sign told us to Drive Thru Starbucks. So we did. We drove thru Starbucks without stopping.

The biggest laugh of course came from Google Maps which warned us that there was unusually heavy traffic on M25. No, mate, that’s not unusual at all.

And of course, when you’re on the M25 and you think your car’s falling apart, it’s just the very loud and presumably very cheap concrete surface you have to drive on in some places.

Our first choice of accommodation was the Premier Inn in Tolworth. But it was fully booked. So we slummed it at Premier Inn, Chessington, next door to the World of Adventures. It was comfortable enough.

We drove into Surbiton where we met up with Helen and Steve at the old place, Allegro’s, for a pizza. After this, Liesel, Leslie and Helen caught the train into London to watch Ballet Shoes at the National Theatre. This play was enjoyed by all, although I did feel a little jealous that I’d missed out when Liesel told me Pearl Mackie was in it: she played Bill Potts in Doctor Who for a very short while.

But I was pleased to be able to enjoy a relaxing massage on this Saturday night, thank you very much. If only I could have fallen asleep straightaway afterwards, rather than having to catch a bus and walk several hundred metres along Leatherhead Road.

I was in a room by myself while Liesel shared with her Mom: this was to be the sleeping arrangement for the next few days. After a nice, but short, sleep, we got up early, packed and checked out. No time today for a delicious Premier Inn breakfast. Things to do, places to go, people to see…

It’s the season

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And back again

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

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

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

Thanks again to Jodi for the picture.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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