weather – Page 9 – Mick and Liesel's Antics

Menagerie

I don’t know if Liesel was surprised or not, but I got up in time to have breakfast and then walk with her to Didsbury, for her weekly coffee and chat with the ladies of the WI. We had a pleasant walk by the river to Didsbury. Some of the grass on the bank has been cut back, but there was a healthy barrier between the path and the river. That didn’t prevent all the dogs from jumping in the water, though.

Suddenly, amongst all the nettles and brambles and grass and thistles, one solitary red poppy grabbed our attention. It was vibrant, at just the right angle to the Sun, its intensity doesn’t really show up in the photo.

In the Metropolitan, we ordered our coffees at the bar. Where are you sitting? Liesel’s over there, with the WI ladies, and I’m over there, a few tables away. Why aren’t you sitting together? Several responses came to mind and I opted for, well, I failed the audition to join the WI.

So I sat over there, drank my coffee, studied my phone, and then walked home. On the way, I saw a tank parked up. It’s been there a long time, Liesel told me later, I just hadn’t walked along that road for a while.

A bit extreme, I thought. The potholes are bad around Manchester, yes, but an armoured vehicle is a bit OTT.

The squirrel greeted me when I arrived at home. For years, his instinct has been to run up the tree whenever he sees me. Maybe he thought I couldn’t see him, under the bush. Even when I accidently let the front door slam shut, he didn’t budge.

In the evening, we went over to Jenny’s for a Chinese takeaway. This was Helen’s last evening in England, before flying back home early on Sunday.

Liesel’s task for the day was to finish the pelican that she’d been crocheting for a long time. Why a pelican? And why the rush?

Well, Helen’s BFF Bambi in Australia is expecting a baby in a couple of months, and the pelican will be one of the young joey’s first cuddly toys.

The pelican is bigger than anticipated, it’s hard to gauge the size from a small picture. The stitch-count in the intructions should be a clue, but it just grew and grew, it sprouted feet and wings and of course, a big bill. A funny old bird is the pelican. Its bill can hold more than its belly can.

Liesel fought against finger cramp and RSI and pins and needles not to mention the heat but she’s a star. The pelican was completed, stuffed, sewn up and it accompanied us to Jenny’s in Cheadle Hulme.

Liesel’s dilemma was: could she bear to make another pelican should a request be received? Or would she prefer to stick to smaller projects. In any case, Liesel put away the crochet needles for a few days to give her digits a chance to recover.

Another problem was: Helen now had to fit the pelican into her already full bag.

Liesel and I collected the food from the local Chinese takeaway and we all had a very nice meal. I suspect some people had leftover Chinese for breakfast and/or lunch the following day!

Before we left, Helen and Jenny both gave me Fathers’ Day cards and chocolates, a total surprise as I’d forgotten it was that time of year. Thank you very much!

And as Helen flew away into the sunrise, Liesel and I wondered who would entertain us now? Mom, Jyoti, Helen, all come and now gone. No more visitors for a while. We might have to make our own fun.

Well, I wouldn’t call it fun, but the new printer stopped working. The problem was rectified within a couple of days, that’s great customer service from Cartridge Save, but HP as an organisation are pretty evil. Installing firmware in my printer, that I paid for, that detects non-HP ink cartridges and prevents it from working. Imagine Sodatreams only working with Evian water but not tap water. Or your car only running with one brand of petrol. It wouldn’t be allowed under decent competition laws. But HP? Huh. That’s my whinge of the week.

We missed the weekly Wednesday walk again. The Royal Cheshire County Show was happening, and Liesel had volunteered to help the WI in their tent. Her job was to make sandwiches. I said I’d go along with her, to offer moral support, and to wander round the exhibits.

It’s a two-day event and we were there on the second day. The traffic queue to get into the car park was ridiculously long. But we got there in the end. On disembarking from the car and embarking on the long hike to the show site itself, we were greeted by the biggest, blackest cloud ever.

At that moment, it didn’t feel like it was going to rain and of course, neither of us had waterproofs.

But it did rain. It poured. It was torrential. Liesel and I ducked into a tent with hundreds of other people, and some cattle. Teeming doesn’t cover it. It was a short storm, but long enough to turn all the paths and fields to mud. I had trainers on, but Liesel’s sandals were no match for that kind of weather. So, in a way, standing inside a tent for over three hours making sandwiches was a blessing.

We found the WI tent and, when the rain eased off, I went for a wet, muddy walk, to see what was on offer. It’s a very popular show, and much bigger than the equivalent shows we’d visited in Guildford when we were children.

The Cheshire Area of the National Association of Flower Arrangement Services had a great display of prize-winning arrangements.

I wonder how many hours work went into this one?

While drinking a coffee and eating my Bakewell tart, I enjoyed music from the Sandbach and District U3A Brass Band. Apart from anything else, it made me wonder whether we should have another go at joining U3A. Last time we did that, a pandemic ensued, so I’m not sure we should risk it again.

It was jolly decent of their majesties King Charles and Queen Camilla to turn up in their gold carriage, and park up outside the Cheshire WI tent.

Actually, it wasn’t the real King and Queen. They, the soldiers standing guard and even the horse were all scarecrows made using the traditional materials of wood and straw, with the addition of a covering of weather protecting bin bags. They are dressed in recycled clothing. The decoration and badges on the uniforms were created from bits and pieces of haberdashery and discarded jewellery.

Further afield, I found a funfair, lots of food stalls, a few charities seeking support, and lots of horses.

You might be wondering, which was my favourite horse? Well I think it’s this white one with a very long tail.

When I saw this big dish in the distance, I wondered whether it was the Sir Bernard Lovell telescope at Jodrell Bank. But, looking at a map afterwards, we were probably too far away.

Eventually I did find the farm animals. A little bit stinky, of course, but nothing like the tent with the pigeons, rabbits and cavies. The wall of ammonia that I walked into there drove me away instantaneously. Anyway, back to the farm animals.

The horns on this ram looked plastic. I didn’t get too close to investigate, I’m not that brave, but I did wonder whether they were 3D-printed and stuck on.

I went back to find Liesel soon after 2pm, and we wandered around together for a bit. The only thing we bought, despite so much temptation, was gingerbread from the shop in Grasmere that Pauline, Andrew and I visited last year. Very nice, very gingery.

We ate an ice cream while watching the horse-drawn carriage driving competition. They drove round and round the arena, and there was no overtaking. It was no Ben Hur. But they were all very elegant.

Meanwhile, Helen flew home, met Bambi and Brett, and introduced them to the pelican.

Bambi said it’s the best present she’s had, but what’s nice is that the pelican has made friends already down under, by the looks of it, with an octopus, a teddy, a lion and a koala.

According to my sources (Helen), Brett entered the room and said “what, that’s awesome, where did that come from?! That’s my favourite for sure.”

Helen’s no longer sure the baby will actually receive the pelican. This controversy will no doubt be discussed and resolved at length in the weeks and months to come. Anyway, congratulations, good luck and lots of love to Bambi and Brett and bump from Liesel and me.

It was a hot walk through the Wythenshawe woods, just the five of us this week. Followed by a cold drink in the coffee shop, unusual for me, but becoming more common as the hot weather continues.

At home this week, I have been making good progress on the computer, with the long-term project known as ‘sorting out the photos’. It’s amazing how much work, much of it repetitive, is required after having one zapped SD card and having to change phones. I hope you never have to recover photos from Google’s cloud storage. It’s not intuitive, it’s not easy, it’s not straightforward, it’s time-consuming and you’re never sure you have everything. I’m so glad I had my own backup copies.

In this week’s radio show, I listed the many local Festivals that are taking part in the coming weeks. If you missed it on Wythenshawe Radio WFM 97.2, you can catch it here.

Relaxation, Adventures, and Escapes

The day after our return from Center Parcs was very laid back. Some might describe it as lazy. We did very little. In fact, some might say we did nothing. We didn’t even turn the radio or TV on. A very relaxed day, all in all. A couple of snacks, a couple of hikes from sofa to kitchen, and an early night.

So here is some news from abroad.

Jyoti’s back at home in Anchorage, watching the wildlife from her window.

Meanwhile, over there in Cheadle Hulme, William was Star of the week at football class: the coach said he’d got it for his effort this week ⭐

Meanwhile, Helen drove south to visit some old friends in Somerset and SW London, and drove past our old house several times in disbelief at what our old neighbours have done.

Jenny and Liam took William and Martha to Legoland Windsor. The theme park was great fun but later in the week, the children were just raving about the breakfast they had at the hotel, the buffet style spread was huge, and the piles of toast were amazing!

We’re now in the midst of a heatwave. Suddenly the temperature is in the high 20s Celsius. Phew what a scorcher is the over-used phrase. And then came the thunderstorms. After skirting Manchester for a few days, we finally experienced one. Torrential rain and then hail, with stones the size of peas. I later found out that elsewhere, the hailstones were the size of marbles. Nothing wrong with a nice refreshing thunderstorm of course, unless you’re caught in it outside. Which, unfortunately, is what happened to the young lady whose job it was to deliver our pizza. When I ordered online, there was no sign of a cloud in the sky, but in the 25 minutes it took to cook our pizza, everything changed. She deserved a bigger tip, really. And a towel.

For the first time in many weeks, Liesel and I joined the Wednesday walk. It was a hot day for a walk by the river, with little shade. Phew what a scorcher. But the heron was standing in his default spot on the weir, so that was a bonus.

Liesel and I collected the children from school and, instead of bringing them to our luxury but hot apartment, we took them over to the nearby playground in Bruntwood Park, a short walk from school. They had fun playing, it was impossible to run after them, and it was nice to sit down in the shade for a picnic.

They both reached the summit of the climbing frame, again, something I’m not sure I could do, but only because it’s in a childrens’ playground, not for any other reason such as cowardice or chickenry.

There is a sandpit in this playground. The following converstion did not take place:
William: Can I play in the sandpit?
Grandad: Yes, of course you can, fill yer boots!

Nevertheless, he chose to do so, literally.

Later on, Martha and a school chum played in the sandpit too. By the time we’d all walked home, I think most of the sand had fallen off their shoes. Well, I say ‘shoes’, but as you can see, William was wearing wellies. I think the kiddoes had a good brush down and a shower at home.

We had an unusual visitor this week.

Usually, we see them later in the year, so here’s another sign, maybe, of climate change.

For the first time in many weeks, I joined the Thursday walk. It was a hot day for a walk so the shade in the woods was very welcome. Phew what a scorcher. There were just the four of us this week, Mick, Michael, Chantel and Chantelle.

Jenny and Liam asked us to babysit one evening, and that’s always a pleasure. They and Helen were joining a couple of friends at an Escape Room. Martha was building a Lego model that she’d acquired at Legoland. She was doing really well, the instructions are really good and comprehensive, she didn’t really need my help. She was about halfway through completing the structure, at instruction number 140.

They ate (most) of their supper, and got ready for bed quickly after which we read some stories. Both said they missed Mummy, but accepted that Mummy and Daddy like to go out sometimes. And, once asleep, they both stayed in slumber at least until we left when parents and auntie returned. The Escape Room had been good fun but very hot.

With this in mind, I dressed as lightly as I could the following day, because Jenny and Helen’s (belated) birthday present for me was a visit to an Escape Room, not the same as last night’s.

This one is located in Disley and the drive there was very pleasant.

Our team of tomb raiders and archeologists entered an abandoned gold mine in the heart of the Mexican mountains. Our mission was to find the hidden gold. Legend says that the holder of the hidden gold of El Narangel will find the Lost Tomb. The miners left subtle clues and hints, so we used all our skills to find the hidden gold and ultimately the Lost Tomb. We had to be careful because the miners wouldn’t give up their gold easily.

I would recommend this, my first Escape Room experience, ExtremEscape, it was challenging and good fun and, contrary to expectations, the venue wasn’t too hot.

No spoilers, so no photos, suffice to say, we escaped with 8 minutes left from the original 90-minute duration of the challenge.

At the risk of blowing my own trumpet, I am very proud to have been the first person to solve one puzzle in one particular way, according to our host! Even though, at the time, I was berated by children and spouse!

For lunch, we dined at Greens in Didsbury. As usual, the food was great, the service was terrific and again, Liesel and I agreed we should come more often.

At home, the latest TV series that we’re enjoying is Extraordinary Attorney Woo: very unusual to see a character on the autistic spectrum in a lead rôle.

My show this week on Wythenshawe Radio featured two hours of Cover versions, and if you missed it, you can catch up here.

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.

Newburn to East Wallhouses

It will take a while to adapt to these early starts. No lie-ins for a while. Our breakfast girl was very friendly and bonny and we fueled up well before setting off for Day 2.

Tyne Riverside Country Park was very quiet, apart from the birds and the wind rustling through the trees. Yes, we heard the odd loud vehicle, but that didn’t detract from our enjoyment of the countryside and the fresh air.

A lot of the path was along a disused railway line, so very straight for long periods.

Every now and then, we caught a glimpse of a bright yellow field, rapeseed. Glimpse? The yellow flowers just draw your gaze, they’re so bright.

We encountered our first serious hills today too. Nothing too onerous, I just find a rhythm and stick to it, until I have to stop or change my pace. I think we all have our optimum speeds on different terrain, but on the whole, our group of five stuck together very well.

Heddon-on-the-Wall: I wonder why it was so-called? We followed a sign and snuck behind a hedge and saw the first secton of Roman Wall that we knew to be genuine. This was an exciting moment for us!

One thing they’re not short of in the north of England is sheep.

Lots of lambs, and a surprising number of twins, as far as we could see. Sometimes though, the sheep looked a bit other-worldly.

At the risk of repeating myself, the views were spectacular today.

But never mind the views of the landscape, one thing I noticed was that in just two days, Tammy had gone through five different hairstyles. And while we ate dinner later on, a sixth one, a French plait executed by Jyoti, was on display!

It rained very slightly and ponchos and raincoats and backpack covers were deployed. Thankfully, it didn’t last long and we arrived at our final destination for the day, the Robin Hood Inn at East Wallhouses.

Our tired and achy bodies enjoyed a drink and a meal before taking to bed early.

As the week went on, the walking days became longer, and so I neglected this blog. I will catch up properly when we get home.

I know you’ll want to know about this week’s broadcast Wythenshawe Radio show, which I recorded a long time ago now, or so it seems. The theme was,of course, Walking and you can listen right here.

The same guy that served us last night brought our breakfasts this morning. I don’t think he has a home to go to. But he did very kindly take a group photo for us outside the Robin Hood Inn.

Thanks Tammy for the picture!

Most of the walk that day followed a main road, the B6318, so traffic noise was a potential problem. But in the end, it wasn’t such a big deal. The path stayed close to the road, with a wall or something separating us. It was sometimes muddy, sometimes grassy, and on the whole, much more comfortable to walk on for long stretches than the road itself.

To be continued…

Thanks, Mancs and Diolch, Cymru

I missed the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II on account of not being born yet. The Coronation of King Charles III was on TV in the background while I was doing other things, such as writing and looking out of the window and making coffee. I didn’t really go out and buy a hat as previously suggested. But Liesel and Jyoti went out shopping and missed most of the so-called Event of the Year.

King Charles and Queen Camilla on the balcony of Buckingham Palace

Liesel collected her new prescription sunglasses from Didsbury, and while they were in the village, she and Jyoti bought treats for me (and for themselves). So we had scones for breakfast on Sunday morning, with clotted cream and jam and no arguments about which to put on first.

Our walk through Kenworthy Lane Woods on Saturday afternoon was uneventful, no moose nor bear encounters.

No matter how careful you are, you (or is it just me?) always end up with sticky fingers after eating anything where jam is involved.

With our energy levels suitably boosted, we took a bus into Manchester. And yes, of course we saw the back end of a bus disappear up the road as soon as we turned the corner, walking towards the bus stop. Yesterday, when Liesel and Jyoti walked to the village, I said I’d catch up and, for the first time ever, a bus arrived at the bus stop just as I got there, so I boarded it, overtook the ladies, travelled as far as the next stop, disembarked and met them.

Liesel and I enjoyed showing Jyoti the sights of Manchester including the Central Library, although it seemed to be closed. So we mooched around the Art Gallery for a while.

You can just see Jyoti’s reflection to the left of the golden monkey, who sits on top of a large urn made by top artist Grayson Perry, and he wasn’t afraid of incorporating images of his own face throughout the design.

In a few galleries, several objects are on display as if they are in storage, still in crates, and grouped together in unorthodox ways, such as by material, by object type, by size, rather than by country of origin or by artist.

Some works of art make us laugh for the wrong reason. For instance, this pot of kitchen utensils is very similar to one we have at home.

Work of art and Liesel’s version at home

One of the coolest items was a dress make up from 43 kg of dress pins.

I tried to count the pins, but someone interrupted and I lost count at about 13,000 and I wasn’t even up to the waist.

By accident, we ended up at Gooey, a cake and cookie shop that Liesel was aware of and which she’s been lusting after for a long time. We bought doughnuts and after enjoying mine, overflowing with raspberry jam, I vowed never to look at a Krispy Kreme donut again. And yes, my fingers were sticky.

We paid a quick visit to the Cathedral where we witnessed a small band rehearsing, including a harp player. I’ve never been that close to a harp but I resisted the temptation to wander over and have a pluck. I don’t think Liesel would have let me, anyway, never mind the harpist.

We walked towards Castlefield Viaduct, passing a few places of interest, such as what’s left of the old Roman Wall. Rather than sit on this historical artefact, Jyoti chose to sit on the sheep. A premonition, maybe.

It was a first visit to the Viaduct for Liesel and Jyoti, and I hadn’t visited since I went with Pauline and Andrew last Summer. It has matured since then, many of the plants are now in full bloom and some of the beds are even overgrown.

As you leave, you’re surprised to see yourself in a reflective surface. You’re supposed to reflect on what you’ve seen, the flowers, the local communities and groups that have contributed to the project, the plight of the world what with climate change and all that, but all I could think of was, I look a bit distorted in that mirror.

A quick pitstop at the Museum of Science and Industry was followed by the slog back to the bus stop. Our pedometers confirmed that we’d far exceeded our 10,000 steps today, so the sit down on the bus back to Northenden was very welcome. We dined out at Chennai Dosa before making our way home.

I had a few little admin jobs to do on the computer before packing for a few days away. We d drove off and on a long section of road, we watched as several thousand vehicles were returning from their long weekend away, it was a bank holiday, and they may have all gone to Wales to escape the Coronation. Yes, Wales, that’s where we went, Snowdonia to be precise. Liesel had booked a National Trust Cottage just up the road from Craflwyn Hall. Why this area? Many years ago, Liesel and I enjoyed a Bicycle Beano cycling holiday there during the course of which I undoubtedly had a whinge about the hills. Especially the ones that go up.

Bwthyn Mai is a cute little cottage: most of the pictures on the walls are William Morris prints from an old exhibition at The Victoria and Albert Museum, the bedrooms are on the top floor, the bathroom on the middle floor, the living room and kitchen down below. Yes, it was built on a hill, a long, long time ago. The doors and floorboards squeak a symphony as you walk around.

And outside, we can watch the sheep as they upturn furniture, take shelter under the picnic table, rub their bums against the fences and gate posts, we can witness the lambs barging into their mums for a quick feed, and generally gambol like sheep do. Jyoti took many, many pictures of sheep. And I took a couple too.

The only downside to this accommodation, to the wider area as we discovered, is that there is no 4G coverage, and our cottage has no WiFi either. Not a problem, I thought, but as time went on, we all realised how dependent we’d become on having access to the internet. Someone had left me a WhatsApp message but I was unable to acknowledge it for a couple of days. We couldn’t quickly check the weather forecast. When faced with a problem or a question, the first thing we think is, I’ll just Google it. Can’t do that. When reading a book on my Kindle, if I want to look up a new word, I just click on it and it tells me via a dictionary or via Wikipedia. Similarly if I want to remind myself about a certain character, just touch the name and it tells me. Not now I’m out in the sticks. What’s the news? Probably the same old depressing nonsense but we shall remain in blissful ignorance.

From my point of view, the worst thing was the possibility of losing my winning streaks on a couple of puzzles that I do every day. This really is a ridiculous first-world problem I know, but this is how tangled our lives have become with the many tentacles of the internet. And I haven’t even mentioned Twitter, Instagram and email yet. Who’s been communicating with me?

On the other hand, what a great opportunity to get away from the modern e-world for a few days. Except, everywhere we go, we’re checking for a 4G or even a 3G signal, and whether shops, cafés, galleries have WiFi.

I asked Liesel whether she fancied a game of chess on this board in the gardens of Craflwyn Hall but she politely declined, which is fair enough: she doesn’t know how to play.

Liesel and Jyoti set off for a walk and I followed a little later. The path was steep, rocky and damp, it had rained a lot overnight.

After lunch, Liesel drove us to Rhyd Ddu from where there is a trail leading to the summit of Yr Wyddfa which is the new (old original) name for Snowdon. It started off as a well made path, no water running down this one, and yes, of course, walking up a mountain, it’s going to be steep. Liesel and Jyoti climbed a lot further than I did because, annoyingly, I had to stop due to my old shortness-of-breath issue. Maybe I should have trained longer and harder up hills, not the flat plains of Northenden. Maybe I should have persevered on an inclined treadmill at the gym. In any case, I had to stop and sit on a rock for a while, soak up some sunshine and convince my body that it can manage.

It was a beautiful day, though, no complaints there. I walked back to the car park, slowly: it took a ridiculous amount of time before my breathing was back to normal.

Rhyd Ddu is a station on the railway line between Caernarfon and Porthmadog. While pottering about, listening to the birds, I heard the whistle from a train in the distance. I also saw a red dragon on the platform.

Eventually, the train that had been tooting arrived at Rhyd Ddu and I took a few pictures of the engine.

At which point, my phone died. No internet and now, no phone, no camera, no more pictures today, then. So I missed getting photos of the second train as it arrived from the opposite direction. Many people disembarked maybe with the intent of hiking some of the way up to the summit of the mountain. No pictures of them either, some dressed like me, in t-shirt and shorts, some with several layers of waterproofs and a full backpack including a tent.

Liesel, Jyoti and I met up and compared notes, especially regarding tired aching calves. After dinner, we turned the TV on and Jyoti and I watched the first semi-final of the Eurovision Song Conest. The whole event is new to Jyoti and semi-finals are a new experience for me. A good nights sleep should have been a dead cert.

The weather didn’t look so good in the morning. Aches and pains determined that we should therefore have a bit of a rest day. Last night, a sheep had a fight with one of the benches outside. The bench lost, and we found it with its legs in the air. One of the sheep was limping and we wondered whether he was the one who beat up the furniture.

We drove to the nearest town, Beddgelert, where we resisted the temptation to have an ice cream. We did buy postcards and stamps and other cards and pottered about a bit. Outside the church, St Mary’s, we saw a well-preserved gravestone for a William Parry and I wondered whether he was a local hero of some description.

Many scenes for the film Inn of the Sixth Happiness, starring Ingrid Bergman, Curt Jurgens and Burt Kwouk were filmed in the area in 1958. I wonder if this explains the presence of this Chinese dragon which is stylistically very different to Welsh dragons.

Bridge over the river Colwyn in Beddgelert

There was a touch of mizzle in the air and at one point Jyoti commented that she couldn’t understand why I didn’t put a coat on. Well, it wasn’t raining that hard and I didn’t feel cold. I said that, equally, I couldn’t understand how she could keep taking her coat off and putting it back on every time the temperature changes by a degree or two!

We’d been through Betws-y-Coed before, on the occasion of our cycling holiday, so we knew it was a (relatively) big, busy place. Liesel came up with the idea of parking outside the town and walking in. And what a great decision that was because we saw a wonderful heron down by the riverside.

We found a place to eat by the railway station and looked forward to using their WiFi to catch up with some totally unimportant stuff. So imagine the heart-wrenching disappointment when we saw this on the wall.

The food was great though, especially the Victoria sponge. On this beautiful day, we should maybe have done a tour of the the local waterfalls, since they are so well signposted.

Liesel confessed to her love of bridges, so we walked to Sappers Suspension Bridge, but it’s not open to the public at the moment. Further along the road, (and who would have guessed that we’d ever be walking along the A5?) we saw Waterloo Bridge, a small edifice compared with its namesake in London, but so called because it was first built in the same year as the Battle of Waterloo, 1815.

Even though this was supposed to be more of a rest day following the exertions of all the climbing yesterday, we still did a lot of walking.

Deciding where to visit on our final whole day in Wales was hard, so much depends on the weather and of course, we can’t look up a weather forecast because we have no internet. In the end, we drove to Beddgelert Forest where we planned to walk to around a lake. Well, we never did find the lake. The trail was marked but somehow all three of us, I think, missed a vital pointer so we ended up well off course. But it doesn’t matter, we enjoyed the walk, the views, the weather, the fresh air, the birdsong and the fact that there were very few other hikers, cyclists and no horseriders at all. The forest itself is very lush, so many different greens from olive to almost dayglow.

Once we realised we were off course, we decided instead to follow the trail into Beddgelert itself. It was a much more pleasant experience than one of our earlier plans which was to walk from the Forest car park to the village along the road, with no footpath. We lost count of the number of streams and rivulets. It’s a very wet forest but today, we were lucky to be out in the sunshine, and the threatening grey clouds never came too close.

We’ve been wondering which peak was in fact Snowdon, Yr Wyddfa, and today a very helpful sign showed us. What a shame the actual summit was shrouded in cloud!

We had lunch at the Prince Llewelyn public house in Beddgelert, grateful for the opportunity to sit down for a while after quite a long walk. Oh, and they weren’t afraid to let us use their WiFi so I caught up on a few things, nothing of any importance of course.

Before setting off for the car, retracing our steps, we had an ice cream. What a joy to be sitting in warm sunshine eating an ice cream.

I heard a dog barking and a man telling it to be quiet. Round the corner, and we saw a flock of sheep in the road.

The man had two dogs that very skilfully herded the sheep through a gate. I thought it was unusual to hear a sheep dog being so vocal, though.

Finding another cute little bridge, I thought it would be rude not to take a picture of it for Liesel. So here she is, with Jyoti, about to walk across it.

By the time we found our car in the car park, we had walked over 20,000 steps, so probably between 8 and 9 miles. Very good training for what we’ll be doing next week. My body behaved much better than yesterday. I found my rhythm and walked up a very long hill and was hardly out of breath when I got to the top, a totally different sensation to the shortness-of-breath episode I’d had yesterday.

Back at our cottage, we had some coffee then supper and in the evening, Jyoti and I enjoyed the second semi-final of the Eurovision Song Contest. I now realise what I’ve been missing for several years!

A good night’s sleep was interrupted by a very early rise and an early departure. One aspect of the cottage that I didn’t mention was the beam in the room.

I must have banged my head on it a thousand times over the course of four days, thus keeping Liesel fully entertained. How I can bang my head, utter ‘ouch’, glance down, forget the beam’s there, stand up and bang my head again so many times is a question that will only be answered by the pathologist who dissects my brain post mortem.

The day back at home was quiet, I worked on a radio show, processed the week’s accumulated mail (one item) and in the evening, we met up with the family for dinner at a pub called The Pointing Dog. Martha was but a small baby when she last met Jyoti but what a fab reunion.

As mentioned a couple of times, this is Eurovision Song Contest week, and the competition is being held in Liverpool, on behalf of Ukraine, last year’s winner, and we’ve had a lot of coverage on TV and radio. So of course, my own show on Wythenshawe Radio has a Eurovision theme, and you can catch up with it here.

Oh and by the way, I didn’t lose my winning streaks on the puzzles that I do every day, just because there was no internet access. It seems that if you don’t or can’t attempt the puzzle one day, that doesn’t count against you. Phew, I am so relieved.

And, as I discovered after we returned home, the Wikipedia entry on the Welsh Red Dragon is a fascinating read. Highly recommended.

I could find no evidence that the William Parry whose gravestone we found was a celebrity in any way. But Parry is a very common name in the Beddgelert area, certainly in the graveyard.

Seven is a magical number

We all have one every year and some of us have had way too many but when you’re turning 7, your birthday is still very special. And so it was with Martha. Liesel, Leslie and I had a wonderful time celebrating with Martha, her immediate family, her cousins, aunt, uncle and the other grandparents. Thirteen people in all, but not at all unlucky.

There was a bit of running about and it was warm enough to go into the garden for a while. One thing I never expected to see was Papa, the other grandfather, standing on his head in the garden. Such poise, such strength, and of course, I didn’t have a go.

Neither did I take part in the head-over-heels competition. Or roly-polys. Or somersaults.

William was especially pleased that Papa John pizza was the main food item for this party. Although the cake was pretty good too.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the planet, Helen was spending her Easter weekend laying new decking outside her apartment.

If you want decking, let us know and we’ll put you in touch. Well done Helen!

On Easter Sunday, we went for a walk along the river and again bemoaned the fact that the Sun was out but the cold wind was winning. For the first time since about November, we saw the heron. In fact, we saw two or three herons. Not sure because numbers 2 and 3 might have been the same one, they do look very similar.

We don’t really like the cold wind and by this time of year, it really should be a bit warmer. But at least it’s not snowing here like it is in Anchorage. Yes, Leslie is missing out on what must surely be the largest ever Winter in the lrgaest state in the union.

At home, our evening meal was enhanced by the presence of a bipedal carrot. Very nice, very tasty.

Another day, another walk, this time to Chorlton Water Park, partially along the river.

The bin seemed happy to see us, as well as the joggers and dog walkers and jog walkers and doggers, not to mention the cyclists on the path. Next time, if we’re up and about that early in the morning, we’ll be taking a picnic breakfast with us.

Week 2 as a member of the choir, and when I was about to leave home, the rain was torrential. Not wanting to sit and sing looking like a drowned rat, I drove to the Social Club. And I’m glad I did, because when I left, it was bitterly cold outside, and I wouldn’t have enjoyed walking home in that! As for the singing itself, I was much more conscious this week of my drone not quite being in tune with the other tenors.

The last time I appeared on a podcast was December 2019, so it was a joy to join Danny Baker and Louise Pepper again this week for the Treehouse Podcast episode 324.

Because of the Zoom call, I was late for the walk on Wednesday but I eventually caught up with the other walkers. Back at Boxx2Boxx, it was nice to see Jill back, I don’t think I’ve seen her since before she went into the jungle for I’m a Celebrity. As usual, she was very generous with her time, and was happy to share her Euros medal with the children.

Jill Scott making some children very happy

Don’t talk to us about the Thursday walk. Liesel and I went along but nobody else did. So we followed the route to the best of our memory, but it’s surprising how most woods look alike and Wythenshawe’s residential roads are all very similar too. I suppose the lesson here is, when someone takes you for a walk in a new area, pay closer attention to where you’re going.

And don’t mention the Friday walk, it was cancelled this week.

But despite getting in a few tens of thousands of steps this week, I did spend some time on the computer, trying to get a bit ahead with the radio shows. This week’s theme was Puns, Parodies and Spoofs, two hours of wonderful music not to be taken too seriously. Be the first on your block to listen to it here.

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.

Swimmin’ and women

It’s been mentioned before, I’m sure, but sometimes our flat feels colder than it is outside. We open the fridge and the light comes on, inviting us into the warmth. Venturing outside, I exclaim, ooh, it’s warm out here. Not this Saturday though. It was cold, but at least I didn’t have to scrape ice off the car. Martha and William both have swimming lessons on a Saturday morning now, and I drove over to watch them. It was warm inside.

It’s a nicely heated venue of course, and upstairs in the viewing platform, the Sun was streaming it. It felt fantastic on our backs as we watched the children ploughing up and down the pool. Martha earned her 10-metre certificate today.

After the lesson, I drove back to Jenny’s, walked back to the pool and accompanied Liam, Martha and William on their walk back home. My reward for all this exercise? Jenny cooked up a gorgeous roast dinner for me. Well, for all of us, thanks, Jenny!

William asked me to help him build his Lego police car. He really didn’t need my help. Dozens of very small parts, and he managed very well.

While I was watching William not needing my assistance, Martha went out with Liam and came back with dessert. I think William enjoyed his chocolate cake.

Later in the week, I saw this.

There’s not much more likely to cause a panic attack than seeing this on a screen, like we’ve gone back to the 1990s or something. Anyway, all sorted now. It also took way too long to get the printer working. It went ‘offline’ but I could find no easy way to put it back ‘online’. I ended up reinstalling it as if it were a brand new device. I think this is something I’ll never understand about technology: why does something work flawlessly for two months then suddenly stop? I wonder how many printers have been thrown through windows in frustration?

I’ve said this before and I’m sure I’ll say it again, to myself at least: Do the shredding little and often. Don’t save it up for years and years. I spent several hours this week shredding old, unwanted but confidential paperwork. One thing I realised though is that once it gets going, our shredder puts out more heat than the actual heating system in this flat.

But I’m not the only one having major issues this week.

Someone had a slight altercation in Palatine Road. There’s a bit of a mess here. I don’t know whether the torrential rain that we had affected his driving ability. Torrential? At times yes, but there was just a lot of rain over a few days. The river was high again.

Walking around Northenden and Wythenshawe this week was uneventful. Rain was threatened a couple of times but we stayed dry, just a bit of drizzle.

There was more rain to negotiate when I drove to Darwen. I’d never been before, so I left really early so I could see some of the town. Good job too. There was a long hold-up on one of the motorways, so I went a different, longer way, but quicker, if Google Maps is to be believed.

This artwork celebrates the proud industrial heritage of Darwen. Please help us to look after it by not touching or climbing it. The edges may be sharp to touch and falls can cause injury. What a shame the plaque didn’t credit the actual sculptor.

I was delighted to see The Weaver Bird because five minutes earlier, I was very nearly locked inside the market. After parking up, I went downstairs to a deserted market, glad to find a public toilet. When I came out, the Men were walking around locking all the doors. I followed them round like a hungry puppy until they let me out.

This India Mill Chimney is one of Darwen’s most famous landmarks, the last remaining chimney standing as a memorial to the local cotton industry.

Supper was taken in a bank. Yes, really, it’s a pub called The Bank and it really was a bank, once. The barman asked a few times whether my meal was good. Well, yes it was. In the end, he admitted that this was something new on the menu. I can recommend their sweet potato and chilli curry, if you’re ever in Darwen, and hungry.

I was here to see Martha Tilston in concert. We’ve not seen her for about five years, and Liesel and Leslie should have been here too, but are still over there in Anchorage. So, I had three seats to choose from. One minute before show began, in came the inevitable tall man with a big head and I knew exactly where he was going to sit.

Teri Birtwistle, local to Darwen, supported Martha beautifully. I had a quick word with her in the interval, promising to play her music on my show.

I also spoke to Martha’s accompanist Matt in the interval, passed on my regards to Martha and her Mum Naomi, whom I got to know, crikey, thirty years ago now, when we were on the same creative writing course. St Patrick’s Day came up in conversation and I boasted that I was playing Martha’s song Over to Ireland in my radio show this week. So imagine my delight when she played that song on stage, even though it wasn’t on her playlist originally. Matt just went with the flow!

The drive home was much faster, the motorway had been unblocked. But a long drive, late at night, isn’t something I’m used to, so I woke up far too late the next day to go for a walk with the usual group. Instead, after another spot of shredding, I went back down to the river here in Northenden: it was still flowing high and fast.

I’ve mentioned it already, and this week’s Wythenshawe Radio show marked St Patrick’s Day, mostly Irish singers and songs about Ireland. Catch it here.

One more thing

It’s been on the to-do list for a long time, and with the luxury apartment to myself for a few weeks, this is the perfect opportunity to sort out the paperwork. I can leave piles of paper all over the floor. Organised chaos for a while! Literally thousands of sheets, mostly A4 size, have been sifted, sorted then retained, recycled or shredded. The shredding process is quite time-consuming, noisy, messy but ultimately satisfying. Maybe this could become my new money-making side-hustle. Anyone need something shredded? 10p a sheet?

There is a mountain of cardboard to be chucked out too. Sadly, some of what I thought were empty shoe boxes contain precious possessions of Liesel’s, so I’m not recovering as much space as anticipated.

Getting out for a walk has proved more challenging this week, as Winter is once again getting the last word in before going away completely. On Wednesday it started snowing, just a flurry, a smattering of snowflakes, but we still walked along the river as far as Simon’s Bridge and back. The new shops and flats in Palatine Road will, I’m sure, be nice when they’re finished, but right now, it just looks like someone is playing with oversize Meccano.

I thought I’d drift off to sleep listening to a radio drama. How long was it? According to BBC Sounds: 1339 mins! Well, it was really only 19 minutes. Three people find themselves trapped in a pitch black, flooding mine. Is this the end? ‘Danger’ or ‘The Mine Play’ is regarded as the BBC’s first ever radio drama. Originally broadcast live in February 1923, when the audience was invited to listen in the dark for maximum effect. This version was re-recorded to mark the play’s 50th anniverary. Written by Richard Hughes.

I did listen in the dark, and It was quite spooky, so it probably didn’t help me fall asleep.

In Anchorage, Liesel has been working in the office a couple of days. How she gets any work done with a view like this is beyond me.

Speed skaters encounter a moose while the mountains compete with blue skies for your attention.

I picked Martha and William up from school and both told me it had been snowing earlier in the day. We went to a different soft play place this time, Let Loose. Apart from the slides, the main attraction is the slushies. Both wanted one, a mix of Red and Blue. ‘Oh you mean slushies?’ queried the sales girl. ‘Yes, what did I say?’ ‘You asked for smoothies.’ I realised I’d probably never asked for slushies before, anywhere.

I know it’s there for safety reasons, but it’s really hard getting decent photos through the mesh. But this really is Martha and William up there.

Whingeing about the weather is what makes the world go round. While I don’t mind the cold, and I don’t mind wind, one thing that really makes me cross is cold wind blowing in one ear and out the other. But that’s what was on offer in Wythenshawe this week. Two days in a row. Cold wind blowing from left to right, regardless of whichever direction I was walking in.

The snow was never really heavy enough to show up in a photo, so here is a picture of flakes of paint thanks to some decorators in the shopping centre in Wythenshawe. On the second day, one guy was half-heartedly sweeping up their mess.

Mixed results in technical news. I couldn’t quite get the old disk drive to boot up into Windows 7 on the laptop. So close, but it gave up with scary-looking error messages that weren’t on-screen long enough to read. This was all way outside my comfort zone.

On the other hand, I was able to recover lost files from the recently zapped SD card. I guess I’ll never know whether I’ve got every single picture back, but I’m happy with the results. Message to self: backup the photos every time you take one.

This week on the old Wythenshawe Radio show, I marked International Women’s Day by playing mostly female singers. Catch up here.

All change

We often hear about the butterfly effect. Where the flap of a butterfly’s wing in Northenden can eventually result in a cyclone in the Pacific Ocean. Or as some people would have it, life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. Well, there we were, Liesel and me, passing time on a peaceful Saturday afternoon, when the phone rang. This call was to change our plans for the next month or so.

We were preparing to welcome Liesel’s Mom to our home in a few days time. I was writing something very important, well, maybe not, when Liesel answered the phone. Her Mom’s house in Anchorage was letting in water. There had been so much snow this Winter, the roof could no longer take all the ice and snow. Water was coming in though windows and by any other route it could find. I don’t think Liesel even made the offer, she just said that she was flying over to help out.

Within a couple of hours, flights had been booked and in some cases rearranged. Liesel would fly to Anchorage the following day, and they’d both come back to the UK at the end of March.

Suddenly, our (very tenuous) plans for Sunday changed. Liesel called her cousin in Richmond, and thanks to Andi and Steve, we had accommodation close to Heathrow from where Liesel was flying out.

It took just a few minutes to pack. I was staying away from home for one night, and although Liesel’s away for a month, she has more suitable clothing in Anchorage. Several feet of snow and temperatures below -10°C do not sound very appealing to me.

We drove over to say a quick hello goodbye to Jenny and family. Martha was a bit sad that Great-Oma might not be here for her birthday (in April) but we’re fairly sure they’ll both be back by then.

In an exciting turn of events, we saw a couple of foxes in the garden, quite healthy looking animals too.

We drove to Richmond, nothing remarkable, a bit of drizzle here and there, a bit cloudy although we were driving towards the Sun on the odd occasion.

Andi and Steve took us on a bit of a pub crawl. Not because we were imbibing at every port of call, but we were looking for a pub that was still open for dinner.

We briefly visited The Prince’s Head, where they are still proud of being used as a location in the popular TV series Ted Lasso.

Liesel’s enjoyed the show and has recommended it to me, and I’m sure I’ll catch up with it one day, even though I’m not a big football fan.

We found ourselves at The Cricketers, near Richmond Green, the starting point for many a charity bike ride in the olden days. Here we ate a hearty supper and as luck would have it, it was quiz night. What a good quiz, too. We came second, losing by a single point. So close!

Pomegranate tree towering over Liesel and Andi

This pomegranate tree is, I believe, the only one in Richmond, apart from those at Kew Gardens of course. On a bad night, drunk men will attempt to climb it and, when challenged, will fall down onto the carefully nurtured flower beds below.

We drove to Heathrow Airport via Richmond Park, where we dropped Andi and Steve off to go deer-hunting. Well, deer spotting, I suppose. I hope they got some good photos and had a good walk back home afterwards.

I then dropped Liesel off at the airport, and set off for Kingston. I parked up and went into The Rose Theatre for a quick cup of coffee. The place was full of buggies, it was like a buggy showroom.

I’m no detective, but I think there may have been some entertainment taking place for mums and babies.

I wandered around Kingston for a while, noticing a few changes in the retail sector since my last visit.

I met Stella and Ian in Eden Walk shopping centre, and they haven’t changed a bit. That’s not their photo, by the way, that’s Anya and Hugo, age 14 and 4. Like us, chimps learn throughs imitation. They will observe the members of their communities, particularly their mother, to learn the necessary skills needed for their survival. They will also imitate emotions, showing a high level of empathy. At least, that’s what the plaque says anyway.

It was nice catching up with old friends in Apia Café. This was a new place to me. I realised later that a long, long time ago, Stella and I had worked together in an office just down the road from this location.

We walked over to John Lewis where I left them. I followed my nose to The Bentall Centre.

From here. it was a short walk back to the car park. From there, it was a long haul back home. 5¾ hours, again uneventful, apart from a couple of incidents resulting in very slow-moving traffic for a while. In one case, I noticed a burnt-out van. In the other, I have no idea what the hold-up was.

Please don’t accuse me of not being loyal to any particular radio station. In the car, I can’t get BBC 6 Music, or Boom Radio, but I did flit from Radio 2 to Radio 3 to Smooth (where they were talking about the upcoming Take That musical) to Magic (where they were talking about Brian May’s pronouncement that Queen never really liked audience members singing along) to Jack FM (where the music was, imho, much better) back to Radio 2 and 3 then to Radio 4 and then as I got closer to home, Radio Cymru, Radio Wales, Radio Stoke, CWR, Greatest Hits Radio and another one whose name escapes me.

Then ensued a great night’s sleep with some weird but fun dreams. Just don’t ask for details.

The next couple of days offered some fabulous sights in the night sky. Jupiter and Venus are really close to each other at twilight but Manchester’s clouds aren’t transparent enough.

And the Aurora Borealis, which unusually has been visible as far south as Cornwall, is absolutely stunning.

Thanks to Martin at Manchester Weather for tweeting this wonderful, colourful photo with the caption “The Northern Lights of South Manchester 🤣 Beautiful shades of grey and black with a sprinkle of drizzle!”

We’re being threatened with another Beast from the East, in other words, extremely cold weather and snow. I’d like to say, don’t worry, I’m used it it, I lived in Peterborough for six years. There’s nothing between Peterborough and the Urals, and I’m shivering at the very thought.

We’re not there yet, and I saw bits of the Mersey this week.

I never saw the heron, but the ducks and geese are out in force, probably getting excited at the prospect of Spring. Huh, they’re in for a shock. As are the daffodils and crocuses that will want to sink back into the ground.

I met up with Hayley for a coffee, and again, it was nice to catch up. Still no heron by the river though.

Back at home, I began the process of sorting out all the paperwork. It’s pretty much split equally three ways between keep, shred and recycle.

As I wrote this today, the soundtrack was Ken Bruce’s final show on Radio 2. I remember when he first turned up, decades ago. ‘He sounds just like Terry Wogan’, I said to my Mum. ‘Don’t be daft, he’s Scottish, Terry Wogan’s Irish’, she said, ‘they sound totally different’. Well, as usual, Mum’s right. And what a great last song to play, Ken: The Beatles’ Golden Slumbers, Carry that Weight and The End.

My own relatively humble radio show on Wythenshawe Radio this week was Mick’s Monochrome Music Mix, the theme being Black and White. Catch it here.

Meanwhile, how’s Liesel doing in Anchorage? Well, I hope she’s keeping warm. The leaks have stopped but the house and roof needs much more attention.

The depth of the snow is being measured in feet. And the size of the Ice Eccles (so dubbed by Martha) is just ridiculous.

Residents are advised to wear a hard hat if they go wandering around Anchorage.