Wythenshawe FM – Page 4 – Mick and Liesel's Antics

Four walks and a crossword

Dunham Massey is one of the three National Trust properties closest to us here in Northenden. One day, we will visit the actual house, but not this time. Our habit is to wander through the garden and then go for a longer walk around the deer park.

The garden was busier than usual, but then we don’t usually visit on a Saturday. They’re fighting a losing battle against the rabbits who still find a way into the garden somehow… I’m sure absolutely everybody closes the gates properly every time.

As ever, I stand to be corrected, I don’t really know the names of these plants, but I do like a splash of colour.

We were a bit late but we successfully caught up with a guided walk hosted by Tony. He took us to parts of the park that we’d never visited before. His commentary was informative and funny, but he did have a few issues with NT management and some of their decisions. Such as closing the mill to the public except for one day a week. Many volunteers hadn’t returned after the pandemic, so that doesn’t help.

I mentioned colour, and you had to be quick to see it, but the very tip of a rainbow appeared above the trees, over there.

It didn’t last long, and it didn’t mean that it had recently rained here, nor was it going to, at least not until we were driving home later on.

One of the original occupants, the Earl of Warrington maybe, based the design of the grounds on the gardens at Versailles. Well, I can see that. Not all of the paths have been paved though. One, Langham Grove, leads to an obelisk which was erected in 1714 by the 2nd Earl of Warrington in memory of his mother.

At one point, I was told off for walking in the area fenced off as the Deer Sanctuary. Fair enough, but the alternative would have been walking through what could have been knee-deep mud. Plus, the only deer we saw wasn’t in the Sanctuary anyway! And then later, we saw a stag lying down way over there.

The coffee and walnut cake was about the best I’ve ever had. Sadly, it was the last slice so I couldn’t even have seconds.

Wythenshawe Park is the nearest green space to where we live. Northenden Village Green is a mere postage stamp in comparison. We joined an organised walk here on another dry day, with I think about twenty-five other people. On this occasion, we didn’t see anything new to us in the park, but it was a very slow walk. Plus, we stopped every few minutes.

So I don’t think we’ll be joining this particular group again. Oh, except that one of the ladies had brought cake. Very nice cake, and plenty of it.

It was our turn to look after the children this week one day, after school. The craft activity and food preparation were combined on this occasion. We asked Martha what she wanted for supper and she replied ‘sushi’. So, for the first time ever, Martha, William and I made sushi. It was fiddly but fun and I’m sure next time, we’ll handle the sticky rice better.

Jenny and Liam came round too to join us for our sushi supper. Followed by dessert: a pineapple, not a €28 one fresh from the Azores, just a normal one from Ocado, and a pomegranate that we’d brought home from Portugal. Martha peeled and prepared the latter: she’s been a pomegranate fan since she was a baby. Well, nearly.

Liesel went out to a WI Craft Group meeting and I managed to tidy up and do all the washing up in less than an hour! Who knew making and eating sushi would require the use of so much kitchenware?!

My other major achievement this week was completing the largest crossword I’ve ever seen. I solved 1,322 clues in less than thirteen hours. (On and off, over several days, I don’t think anyone could complete the challenge in one sitting.) They even sent me a certificate, which I shall frame… no I won’t.

Good luck to you if you’re going to have a go!

The regular Thrive Manchester walks were all cancelled this week, but that didn’t stop some of us from turning up anyway and going for a walk through the woods. The crunchy Autumn leaves hide a multitude of sins, especially muddy puddles. My new shoes no longer look brand new.

We did join a Walkaday walk too this week, starting and ending in Parrs Wood. Or East Didsbury if your prefer. It took us along the river Mersey, a very nicely paved path, not like the rocky road between Northenden and Simon’s Bridge. The only wildlife we saw were a few horses. Not that wild I suppose. Someone had beaten us to the blackberries too, so that was disappointing.

Mersey Vale Nature Park was very pleasant. On another day, I’m sure I would have picked some apples in the orchard, but I didn’t want to have to lug them all the way back home today!

We were looking out for herons of course, and saw a few ducks, but the most exotic bird was this cormorant way over there in the middle of the river.

So far this week, we’ve been walking a lot and that’s good of course. But we did go out to a show which was also very good. We didn’t expect a musical, but that’s what it was. Kathy and Stella Solve a Murder! was first performed in Edinburgh but we saw the show at HOME in Manchester. A fine evening’s entertainment.

And by luck, this venue is just a stone’s throw from The Indian Tiffin Room. This was a favourite restaurant of ours but we haven’t been since before the pandemic lockdowns. Last time, we couldn’t get in because we hadn’t booked a table. Liesel booked a table this time, no need to make that mistake again! So we watched the play with very full stomachs, very nice, very tasty! One of the starters was ITR Sweetcorn Fry, new to the menu, apparently. It was very enjoyable and we tried to work out what was in the mix. I caught myself saying ‘It’s got pomegranate in it, innit!’

A couple of weeks ago, Helen sent us bingo cards from The Freshwater Beach House Bingo Bangers game. I decided the songs listed on these bingo cards could become a fantastic radio show. And so it came to pass. You can listen right here.

Turtle, trees and tiles

I’m the first to admit that I’m no fashion expert. I would never comment on whatever somebody chooses to wear. But I might laugh to myself at their outfit. A few times in Northenden, we’ve seen what, at first glance, are naked young ladies prowling the streets. They’re not really au naturel of course, but the choice of clothing is flesh-coloured, tight trousers and top. I dare you not to do a double-take when you see such a thing in your peripheral vision. And, if they’re walking along the road in front of you, how hard can it be not to take a picture? Well, very hard. An old bloke papping a young girl from behind, while walking?

She was sitting at the bus stop as I passed her and I wondered, does she know? Would I go out in flesh-coloured outerwear? Only as a dare. Or for charity. But the rest of my wander that day was uneventful.

In the evening, LIesel and I watched a chat online between Mary Beard and David Olusoga. They were talking about Roman Emperors and in particular Mary’s latest book, Emperor of Rome.

Imagine my surprise a few days later when the postman delivered a parcel. It was a copy of this very book. This very weighty tome. It’s so long since I booked tickets for the online event, I’d forgotten I must have ordered the book as well. Something to look forward to when I want something to read and something with which to build up my arm muscles.

On another occasion, I went out for a haircut. I know, there’s not much left, since I only went five minutes ago. Or so it seems. And we felt a bit sad as we walked by the empty shop formerly known as Quirky Misfits.

As we ambled along by the river, a man said to us, ‘there are no birds’. I thought he meant, there are no herons today. Which wouldn’t be a surprise. But no, he was right, there were no birds at all, no ducks on the water, not even any pigeons flying around, and no birdsong from the trees. Weird.

It was our turn to collect the children from school again this week. The first question they usually ask is, where’s the snack? When we remember, we take them a small snack from home. But right now, we’re out of snacks. We’re trying to eat everything before setting off on our trip. So, after a very civilised discussion, we took them to Head Over Heels for a snack, cake, and a couple of hours of running around and climbing and sliding.

We took them to their home for dinner because Liesel and I had a show to go to in the evening. Another pair of tickets purchased a long, long time ago. We went home and changed, then drove into Manchester parking close to the venue, Stoller Hall. The support act was Jack Badcock, and he was very entertaining, good songs and funny stories.

But the main attraction was Eddi Reader. Yes, we saw her last year in a cave, and a few times before that, but she always puts on a good show, and her set is never predictable.

Eddi’s band includes her husband John as well as Boo Hewerdine. Yes, I sang along sotto voce, except when invited to join in, when I turned my volume up to 11. No, not really. She performed Charlie is my Darlin’ and I remembered my old biology teacher, Martin Hyman, while discussing the theory of evolution, breaking into song, singing Charlie is my Darwin.

You don’t think about teachers for ages, and then two memories come along at once. The actor David McCallum sadly died this week. He played Illya Kuryakin in one of my favourite TV programmes at the time, The Man from UNCLE. So, in French lessons at school, whenever Jim Merritt used the phrase ‘il y a’, the class would respond with ‘Kuryakin’.

That’s enough about school, here’s Eddi again.

We had a good night’s sleep ahead of our travels. It didn’t take long to pack in the morning and the taxi arrived on time for our trip to the airport, Terminal 3. Check-in? Easy. Securiy check? No problem. We were through within twenty minutes and had a couple of hours to pass before boarding the plane bound for Porto. This was a first visit to Portugal for both of us.

The flight? Two and a half hours occupied by a puzzle and a good book. Remind me not to buy Ryanair coffee on board though, it tastes of plastic. I had to chew gum to take away the after-taste.

We landed just before a very quick sunset and although in retrospect, we think we bought the wrong type of ticket from the machine, we took the Metro to our place of abode for the next few days, in Porto.

One of the first things we saw out on the street was this tree, nicely swaddled in pink stuff. We saw trees similarly wrapped in many other colours too, and it was a couple of days before we found out what this was all about.

This was the view from out second storey apartment. Maria, our host, showed us all the sites and restaurants and places of interest on the map, but I’m not sure we took much in. I for one focussed on a couple of locations. We’re only here for a couple of days, after all.

We didn’t have anything in for breakfast, so we went for a walk the next morning. We knew Porto was hilly, but I took that to mean, it would undulate, you’d walk up and down in turn, stretching different muscles in turn. But no. On this first walk, we walked down and down and down.

It’s an old city and it will be nice when it’s finished. This building for instance has a decent façade, but not much going on behind.

Many of the buildings look attrcative to us because they’re covered in tiles, all sorts of patterns and colours.

It’s a Catholic country and Porto doesn’t disappoint with the number of churches and chapels.

For example, this chapel is of course quite beautiful in its own right. But the main point of interest is the faded Pillsbury Doughboy on the wall down the road a bit.

Graffiti is the same everywhere, we realise, lots of ugly tags and rude words, but with the occasional work of art. And then there’s this homespun philosophy:

Liesel admired the crochet decorating this staircase. I wonder whether there’a a local equivalent of the WI responsible?

We’d only found a few euros at home, so we thought we should get some out of a machine. The nearest ATM was half a mile from our location when we trusted our fate to Google Maps. We both extracted some cash, to confirm that both our cards would indeed work. And after this point, we saw an ATM everywhere we looked. On one street, there were four shops in a row, each with a cash machine outside.

Similarly, we didn’t come across a tourist information office. Until we did, and then there were three different ones all located on one particular corner.

There’s a big market, all under cover, where we could have bought any amount of fish and meat, fruit and cheese. I’ve never seen so many cans of sardines. I’ve never seen so many different brands of tins of sardines. In the end, we just had coffee and what turned out to be a very squishy cake. Which made my hands sticky. So I went into the facility to wash them. As I was standing by the sink, giving them a good scrub, the cleaner shouted at me, I’m guessing, to go away. I thought it was because she was about to clean that set of wash basins. But no, it turns out I was in the ladies’. Oh well.

On the top floor of the market, there is this model of the whole structure, which is built on several levels. We entered from street level on the ground floor, and left from the third floor, also at that point, at street level.

As we were walking along minding our own business. I was approached by a young man with a clipboard. ‘Do you speak English?’ he asked. ‘Nein,’ I replied, putting a defensive hand up. He apologised and moved on. I’m not a fan of chuggers at home, never mind in strange cities.

We had a sit down in St Anthony’s Church, and we both lit a candle for our lost, loved ones.

As we wandered around, I was keeping count of the buskers. Until I lost count, there were so many of them. Two were playing guitars, one had a barrel organ and what appeared to be a trained pigeon dancing. We saw one singer and one saxophone player.

And on the whole, we were still walking down and down, towards the river Doura. And here we were entertained by three performers in a row. A guitar version of Coldplay’s Paradise, someone singing Elton John’s Your Song and the last guy was singing George Michael’s Careless Whisper. And there were plenty more buskers where they came from. A very musical city indeed.

We crossed the river on Ponte Luis I, and there was a guy walking along the top. We wondered whether he was going to jump in, but I suspect he just gets his kicks from watching tourists looking and pointing at him, wondering whether he’s going to jump in the river or not!

Lunch was meh, nothing special, but I had my first Portuguese beer. The views of the city, to the north of the river especially, were stunning. It is a very pretty city.

And just look at that sky! Proper sky blue. I never knew I wanted to see a turtle made out of old car tyres, until I actually saw one.

And then we took the teleferico, the gondola, to save walking up the hill.

It was a beautiful day and we were just about done walking, so we knew we couldn’t, on this occasion, hang around to see the Sun set. So we took the metro back home again.

Siesta time. I’m not sure whether I completely nodded off, but I was surprised to be woken by my phone. It was David, my brother, who by some strange coincidence lives in Portugal. And, yes, we’ll be visiting him very soon.

Time for another quick walk to a local supermarket to buy some food for dinner tonight. Cheese sandwiches and crisps, how does that sound? Suitably Portuguese? I was fascinated to see that the local authorities employed Yayoi Kusama to design the local car parking facilities.

A very nice man in the supermarket helped Liesel use the bread slicing machine. He might hang around all the time, waiting for clueless visitors. But how nice, that they trust customers to slice their own bread like that.

We walked and metroed back home again. What a wonderful first whole day in Porto, we feel well exercised. The only downer was seeing news that ‘our’ tree has been vandalised and cut down. Sycamore Gap will never be the same again. And to think we were lucky enough to visit it just four months ago.

We’re in a quiet area in Porto, we’ve just heard a couple of dogs, and the cleaners outside, but it is really quiet. So we were delighted to be serenaded by a soprano practicing her scales somewhere along the road. Liesel wouldn’t let me go out on the balcony to harmonise.

Our second and final full day started with a sort of croissant and a slice of bread accompanied by a cup of tea with no milk. We didn’t want to buy too much stuff that we’d have to lug around Portugal.

Again, when we left our accommodation, we turned right to walk downhill. Well, it’s a 50-50 chance!

We didn’t go into Clérigos Church and Tower. On another occasion, I might want to climb the tower, but not today. I was following one of my GPs’ advice: pace yourself. No need to feel uncomfortably short of breath in a strange place.

We heard the bells tell us when it was ten o’clock and part of me wondered what was the significance? Well, just a few minutes later, my phone reminded me that tickets were now on sale for Seth Lakeman in February. So I bought a couple of tickets. And the whole process was straightforward, just a bit disappointed that we never had the chance to select our own seats. And the usual whige about being charged extra for electronic tickets.

We found a fountain and Liesel thought it was a good place for a selfie. The Fonte dos Leões, the Fountain of Lions, recycles its water and is lit up at night.

Here is another Catholic Church, and the picture is composed of tiles, each hand painted and fired and, phew, glued on the wall in the right place. That would have taken some planning.

We encountered more buskers today of course. One young lady was playing slide guitar and I kept expecting her to segue into Dire Straits’ Private Investigations, but she just carried on doing her own stuff. We can’t throw money at all of these street entertainers of course, but she was the first of two today. The other one was this guy dancing with a life-size doll.

He had some good moves and she just followed him around, the expression on her face not changing at all.

Liesel had read something about freak, deformed trees in Porto. We found them in the park, Jardim da Cordoaria.

I think they’re London Plane trees, but it does depend who you believe. They’re certainly different to the plane trees in actual London. They may have been cut back and regrown, or they may be affected by fungus, there are many stories. Also in this park, you can see a set of sculptures featuring jolly gentlemen being daft. So of course, I had to join them.

This turns out to have been the final work by sculptor Juan Muñoz who died in 2001. Thanks for the laughs, Juan.

We carried on walking and when looking west, thought, wouldn’t it be nice to see the Sun set? Yes, but it’s a bit hazy in that direction. Well, all the better for a nice red sunset!

We came across this graffiti, whch turns out to be world famous. After a ridiculous amount of time on Google, it seems that it just means ‘Tagging is not dead’. Well, some of us wish tagging were dead, and the space left for other artwork.

We passed this statue a couple of times. It depicts a local bishop from about a hundred years ago. He’s very angular, isn’t he? But what really caught my eye was the fact that he’s wearing spectacles.

I had a strange synaesthetic experience today. Usually, my synaesthesia is confined to ‘seeing’ flashes of colour when I hear a sudden crash or bang. But today, when I first saw this pattern of paving stones…

… I immediately ‘heard’ the sound of fireworks going off, phweee… very strange. Also, I wasn’t feeling tired nor stressed at this point, which is when I am normally suscepible to such phenomena.

Time for a coffee and cake? Of course. We sat inside to avoid the coach party and the smoker that arrived and sat outside as we were queueing. It was nice to sit down for a while. And the coffee was so good, I had a second, which is also very unusual for me.

Liesel had some work to do, so we decided to return to base. A short walk and a short metro ride and another short walk later, here we are. When we disembarked at Marquês, we spent some time looking at the colourfully wrapped trees and other displays of colour. It’s all part of an art installation called Chromatic Emotions – Porto ’23.

I do like this one, and it’s only enhanced of course by some supermodel photo-bombing.

Back in doors, Liesel worked while I wrote, we had some lunch, listened to some bloke called Mick the Knife on the radio and then played some other music.

Yes, this week’s show was Friends and Friendship and you can catch it here, if you missed it by accident when it was broadcast on Wythenshawe Radio.

Soup, sand and sunshine

And breathe. It took a couple of days for Liesel and me to recover our composure after those few busy days. So we relaxed. Liesel went for a haircut. I waited in for the groceries. This is our usual, default level of excitement.

We picked up Martha and William from school on our new regular day, Tuesday. At home, Martha crafted this creature from beads and pipecleaners:

At Marha’s request, Liesel made a cauldron of corn soup, which we all enjoyed. Liam and Jenny joined us too, and the best news is: no leftovers! It’s funny how things change though. Martha no longer likes garlic bread. It wasn’t so long ago that she and William would have gone ten 3-minute rounds for the last slice.

Liesel went for a walk in Heaton Chapel but I was quite happy to stay behind and pursue my own interests. Which included watching a crummy film on TV called Superintelligence. There are some good one-liners but if you too fancy spending a couple of hours counting holes in plot-lines, go for it!

And so it’s that time of year again. Liesel’s birthday. We joined the gang for the regular walk in Wythenshawe in the morning, and even though it’s late in the year, we’re still seeing chicks in the pond.

In the afternoon, we drove to the seaside. We realised we hadn’t been all year, and this might be our last opportunity, with half decent weather. Formby is our usual destination, but today we went slightly further afield, all the way to St Anne’s.

We’d left the sunshine behind in Manchester, it was overcast here but still warm. And, remarkably, no wind.

The tide was miles out, we felt sure that, if we’d wanted to, we could walk all the way to the Isle of Man. So no chance of a paddle in the sea, but we had a very pleasant walk along the promenade. We stopped for fish and chips, well, pie and chips in my case, to fully appreciate the seaside atmosphere. Seagulls hovered and squawked, but we and our chips were never in any real danger.

The pier is 90% amusements and the thing that always amuses me about the word ‘amusements’ is that it has the word ‘semen’ contained within. Sadly, we had no cash on us, not even any notes that we could have exchanged for coins in the very helpful change machine. So we couldn’t play any of the games. Also, maybe I’m just getting old, but some of the games look way too complicated. You could spend a fortune just learning what to do, never mind actually trying to win anything. Very noisy it was in that arcade.

We continued our promenade until we reached the sand dunes, then walked back along the beach. We noticed there were very few shells, certainly none worth bringing home for crafting purposes.

In contrast with Formby, it was good to see so many litter bins. Plus, a place to leave and borrow buckets and spades. Well done, Fylde Council.

On the drive back home, we stopped for a comfort break and a coffee, noting that, strange as it may sound, it really did become sunnier as we approached Manchester. If it weren’t such a fanciful idea, you could almost start to believe the climate is changing.

The radio show this week was, shhh!, Secrets. You can listen here.

Bath, bridge and backpack

The children returned to school during what turned out to be one of the hottest weeks of Summer. Even though, meteorlogically speaking, it is now Autumn. William and Martha both look very smart in their uniforms, but mainly, Martha is very proud of her new backpack.

I did ask how long she was going away for, but apparently this is just for one 6-hour day at school. It puts my old school satchel, and later on, briefcase, into perspective.

Meanwhile, half a world away, Helen has been getting to know baby Gypsy.

Bambi and Brett are very lucky to have such a wonderful auntie (and babysitter) in their orbit, and I’m sure, if Helen has anything to do with it, young Gypsy will be well pampered!

We haven’t had to pay a cheque into a bank for a long time, but Liesel’s had one gathering dust for a few months now. The nearest branch of our bank is now in Sale, so we had no choice but to drive there.

We didn’t spend much time there as we were en route to Plumley. This was a place I don’t think I’d heard of before last week. So, when someone on a walk mentioned it, I looked up Plomley. Yes, I was thinking of the man who devised Desert Island Discs, Roy. Needless to say, I couldn’t find it. Plumley, however, was the venue for a group walk this week. We parked up in the railway station car park and waited for everyone else to arrive by train. And yes, the train was late, leaving us time to explore the station.

The walk was circular, about four miles in length, and very enjoyable, as long as you dodged the nettles. We passed by Holford Hall, but couldn’t actually see it through the trees… maybe that’s another day out sometime.

The half the blackberries were sweet and juicy and half sour. Yes, I ate two, one of each. At about the halfway point, we stopped for a snack. Some of our number sat on the old, rusty gas pipes that the sign told us not to climb on.

Where the path was really overgrown, with long grass and everything, I was very conscious of every tickle. I really didn’t want to be attacked by a tick. Well, I didn’t want to be bitten by anything at all, like I was last week. Especially as some of those bites are still quite itchy. Yes, I could wear proper leg coverings, but on the whole, I am much more comfortable wearing shorts. And, with legs as good as mine, why should I conceal them?

Some signs are meant to be ignored, right? It was a real struggle to get over this bridge, with several barriers, bollards, fences, all to be negotiated, moved or climbed over. I let some of the others go first, just to make sure the bridge could bear the weight of pedestrians.

We bade farewell to our fellow travellers at the station, and returned home, dropping our friend Sue off at the fire station where we’d found her earlier on.

It was a glorious, hot, sunny week, so it felt wrong to be stuck inside. We went outside for a stroll each day but then indoors, Liesel had some work to do, and I continued prepping radio shows and yes, sorting out the photos.

One morning, we went out and were horrified at how dirty the car was. And so were all the others in the neighbourhood. Overnight, it had rained, and several tonnes of Saharan sand were deposited on the streets of Northenden.

Because of the heat and humidity, the walk today was shorter than usual. And in one of the parks, we saw evidence of gun crime in Wythenshawe.

We collected the children from school and brought them home. The best entertainment we could offer on such a warm day was to play in the bath. And as if to prove they’re growing up, they asked to get in the bath separately.

And, playing in the bath was fun to watch. It’s amazing what stories you can invent with a set of stackable beakers and a few dinosaurs.

After dinner, we took them home, and hope they had a good night’s sleep before non-uniform Friday at school. There were to be bouncy castles too, postponed from the end of last term, because it was just too wet.

Back at home, we started packing for our upcoming weekend adventure.

The radio show this week featured songs with titles that are also the names of TV programmes or films, especially when the two are not connected. Tributes to TV shows such as Top of the Pops and Ready Steady Go are amongst the highlights. If you missed the initial broadcast on Wythenshawe Radio, you can catch up here on Mixcloud.

Litter, lollies and Leghs

Northenden briefly became the centre of the universe this week. Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds were playing at Wythenshawe Park, supported by a couple of other bands. From the comfort of our luxury apartment, we could hear the soundcheck early in the day. And even in the evening, we could hear the bands playing. Unfortunately, what we heard was very bass-heavy, so we couldn’t identify any particular tune. I’m sure they would have played some Oasis songs, but I was in the land of nod well before the end of the show. Friends of ours who attended later said they had a wonderful time, despite the short, sharp torrential downpour late in the afternoon.

By way of marking the occasion, Northenden Fringe Festival was organised over a couple of days. I went up and down the main road, looking for music, but didn’t find any. There was a group of people outside the theatre, but I think they’d finished. But don’t take anything away from the local shops.

Meanwhile, Jenny and family went away for the weekend. Martha and William’s other grandparents, Alan and Una, were celebrating their Golden Wedding Anniversary. Congratulations to Alan and Una!

Alan and Una with the grandchildren William, Martha, Emily and Annabel

This week, we walked in a couple of places new to us. Jenny invited us to join them for a walk at Errwood Reservoir, in the Peak District. I thought, a reservoir, that’ll be fairly flat, then.

From the car park, we walked along the road and then started following a track towards the woods. The incline increased slowly. William was running much of the time, mostly off the track, and both the children picked up sticks every now and then.

The fireweed was quite profuse, and if you look closely at the picture, you’ll see the flies were too.

I don’t think these were the culprits, but we were all being bitten by small, annoying, flying microdots. Legs, arms, back of my neck and my forehead were all affected. Some of the bites didn’t attract itchy attention until a few days afterwards. I haven’t been this spotty since I was a teenager.

But after walking up a long, long hill, I was becoming short of breath. My coping mechanism is to walk 100 steps, have a short break, then go another 100 steps. Well, that reduced to 50. What I should have done was have a complete rest for 20 minutes, half an hour, and start again. Liam pointed out that we were two-thirds of the way up the hill. The contours on the OS map were just about on top of each other! I groaned inwardly. Thinking of how far I’d already climbed, I knew there was no way I could do half of that again. So, reluctantly, I told the others to carry on, and I turned round. But by now, even walking downhill was ridiculously hard work. I was still stopping every few steps. At least, until I found a nice log to sit down on for several minutes. But them flies. Can’t see them flying around, but sometimes catch sight of one on your skin when you feel a sharp sting.

I found the ruins of Errwood Hall. For some reason, it hadn’t registered with my brain that it was indeed just a ruin. I’d anticipated walking around a stately home and then enjoying a cup of coffee with a huge slice of cake. Huh. Unfortunately, even the ruins are out of bounds right now.

Along the path, there was a pile of fencing and another warning: Danger, Forestry Work, Follow all signs and instructions. Well, I try to do the right thing, but try as I might, I could not find any other signs nor instructions. Instead, I followed the path all the way back to the car park where, I was pleased to say, the ice cream van was still in place. I took my Magnum back along the path enjoyed it while sitting on a bench overlooking the reservoir. Very peaceful.

When the others reappeared, Martha was very excited because she’d seen her first wild animal.

We swapped stories about our bug bites. “Guess how many times I’ve been bitten, William?” I asked. “Twenty thousand billion” was his surprisingly accurate response.

As it was quite late in the day by now, we decided to dine out. Bayleaf Lounge in Bollington was our choice and I spent much of the rest of the day trying to recall why the name ‘Bollington’ rung a bell. Days later, I still can’t remember. But the Indian meal was delicious, even if for a while, the children weren’t that interested in it!

After the meal, the owner of the establishment came over with mint chocolates for us, plus a lollipop for each of the children. He asked us to put up positive reviews, and while we enjoyed the meal, I’m not sure any of us do positive reviews for anything.

So that was a pleasant day at a new venue, and so was our next walk. We picked up our friend Michael, who we know from the regular Thrive Manchester walks, and went to Wilmslow railway station. We should have gone by public transport, but when it’s a choice between an 18-minute drive and an awkward bus and train journey that can take over an hour, what are you going to do?

We met up with a group of walkers from Stockport’s Walkaday programme. When the next train arrived, it disgorged several more, and over twenty of us walked from Wilmslow to Alderley Edge. The first mile or so took us through the residential area. We passed by the world-famous Sainsbury Mural, made by Judith Bluck in 1989.

Obviously, you can’t see the whole thing properly because so many cars are parked in front of it. But it tells the story of one of the legends that surrounds Alderley Edge: ‘The Legend of the Iron Gates’.

We saw a few birds later on in the fields and woods, but none as close nor as impressive as this one in Wilmslow.

The walk was led by Su and she knew a few interesting spots. For example, we didn’t expect to see a disused narrow gauge railway line in the woods. It’s been there so long, a tree has grown between the rails.

We were walking on peat for much of the time, enjoying the expanses of heather. There was nothing harder to negotiate than minor undulations, so I had no problem keeping up today.

Lindow Man is a 2000-year old body found in 1984 well preserved in this peat marsh. Hence his nickname, Pete Marsh. He currently resides at the British Museum but it is hoped that he’ll return to Manchester next year for the 40th anniversary. The site of the discovery is well marked. With a stick.

We finished our walk at Alderley Edge station, from where we took a train all the way back to Wilmslow, just one stop.

Liesel’s exciting day concluded with a WI committee meeting while I watched Jessica Lee Morgan performing online.

The Wednesday walk was cancelled this week, but this didn’t prevent some of us from doing it. And just as well: two people had turned up for their first time and we all did our best to make them welcome.

The Thursday walk took place as usual in Wythenshawe, and again, a couple of new people turned up to join us. The most important news I can share is that Costa has fixed the spelling of their Vegan Sausage baps.

The Friday walk took place as usual, but Liesel and I didn’t join it. Instead, we collected the children for what would be their, and our, final visit to Quirky Misfits. Sadly, this coffee shop and gothic stockist of steampunk, skulls, incense, jewellery, crystals and much more quirky stuff, is closing down. So, farewell Lydia and Maria, thanks for all the coffee and good luck for your future endeavours!

But instead of going straight to the coffee shop, we walked from our flat. And both William and Martha were keen to pick some litter on the way.

There were friendly fights over some items, bottles and cans being particularly attractive! In the end, William picked up the longest item, something off a car, while Martha picked up the largest single item, a hub cap, again, off a car.

At one point, we were discussing how disgusting some people are, just throwing their litter on the ground. William sucked on a thoughtful, yet wobbly, tooth, and opined “Why can’t people have some respect for the planet?”

Both children entered the Riverside Park playground through the back door. In other words, rather than walking around to the gate, they climbed over the wooden fence. The playground is much nicer now, there is much less litter blowing around.

We finally reached the shop, and Martha decided to buy a small, pirate’s treasure map in a jar, yes, that is very quirky, plus one of the many fascinating rocks, newly polished.

Because William couldn’t find anything here in Quirky Misfits, he chose a Pokémon magazine in the Co-op next door. I think the main attraction of this magazine was its twenty thousand billion stickers. While in the supermarket, William also decided on what to buy for lunch and take home. Including a water melon. A very heavy water melon. Heavy, yes, but in the end, really juicy and sweet and tasty

The theme for this week’s radio show was Emergency Services, so plenty of sirens and emergency situations. Two hours of fabulous, eclectic music, as heard on Wythenshawe Radio WFM 97.2 on Friday at 2pm. But if you missed it or want to listen again, here it is on Mixcloud.

Usually this blog is written and delivered on a Saturday. But this week is different. Martha was very disappointed when she realised she’d left her treasure map at our place when we took her home. So we invaded their space on Saturday morning to return the bottle and we loved watching both children’s swimming lessons.

As it was such a beautiful, warm day, we decided to go for a walk at Lyme Park. Ironic how hot, Summer days arrive with September, just as the children are about to go back to school.

Lyme Park was very busy, there was even a queue to get in. But we got there in the end. As usual, we walked up the hill towards the entrance of the house. It’s a short but steep slope, and a good indicator of whether my SoB issue will rear its head. It didn’t. And we had a nice wander around the gardens.

We had an ice cream, sea-salted caramel for Liesel, and raspberry ripple for me, if you’re taking notes. We waited on a path for a family to take some pictures, and as we passed them, I prepared to take a photo of my own. “What are you doing?” asked a worried Liesel. “Taking a picture of the house,” I replied. She thought I was shooting the family who were celebrating a young person’s birthday. No, no, I wouldn’t do that. And this is the picture that I took following this exchange.

Not a bad picture, right? There’s only one way it can be improved.

After a well-earned coffee and sandwich break, during which time I admired paintings by the Legh family, former occupants of this, the biggest house in Cheshire, we carried on walking, towards The Cage, down the hill again, over the stream, over the stile, and through the woods.

Some work had been done in these woods, with a bridge over a particularly damp and muddy section. I was a bit short of breath, but nowhere near as bad as at the reservoir a few days earlier. I paced myself, and took advantage of some logs for a bit of a sit down.

We went home and after a refreshing shower, I made a start on the blog. Then we ate supper. After which, I felt ridiculously tired and couldn’t bring myself to continue. So I didn’t.

This morning, we made our way over to Jenny’s quite early and then followed them to Hazel Grove. Today is the start of the Tour of Britain bike race, and today’s stage was from Altricham to Manchester, the long way round, just over 100 miles.

We decided to witness the first, and only, sprint at Hazel Grove.

We arrived at the right time, we had a great spot right by the sprint point. We watched the marshals putting the finishing touches to the barriers, making use of cable ties. Then we watched the man mark the finishing line on the road with white tape. I always assumed those lines were painted.

The children kept themselves busy while waiting for nearly an hour for the race to turn up by playing video games on parents’ phones!

The crowd cheered most of the every-day cyclists who passed by minding their own business and I took advantage of them to practice taking action shots with the phone. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was to discover that when I do a burst shot, I only get 30 pictures. On the old phone, a burst would produce 100 images. Maybe there’s a way to change this number, I thought, but I couldn’t find one.

We monitored the race online but we knew the race was imminent when a large number of police motor bikes roared by. Some had sirens going too. Then the support cars came by, some but not all with spare bikes on top.

Suddenly, after much anticipation, the leaders of the race arrived, and we had a winner:

There were five riders in this leading group, and the rest of the peloton came by just over two minutes later. Far too fast to be able to identify any one individual. It was just a blur of cycle jerseys.

And that was it. Away from home for three hours altogether in the end, for a mere couple of seconds of action! That is the nature of bike races. Back at home, of course we watched the rest of the race into Manchester on TV. But if you were hoping to see footage of our family at the first sprint point, you’ll be disappointed: the camera was concentrating on people on the other side of the road.

As you are now reading it, you’ll be aware that I wrote and published the blog.

That’s all folks!

Trouble with lifts

After much prevarication and decision-making, weather-watching and umming and ahhing, Liesel and I drove over to Alderley Edge where we met up with Jenny and Liam and the children. We had a nice walk, Martha and William had a nice run, and it stayed dry for us. They are very adventurous but sometimes, when they’re close to the edge of a sharp drop, over the edge, so to speak, at least one of us will tell them to stop running, to step back, and generally stop giving us heart attacks.

The adventure playground was quite challenging, and both the children made the most of it. Martha’s other main activity was collecting fir cones. The acorns were still very small, but later in the year, she’ll be fighting the squirrels for them.

William was very proud of his new wellies, so coating them in mud was of course top of his agenda. He also enjoyed his time halfway to the centre of the Earth, in a big crevice.

One reason we like Alderley Edge is that it’s hilly, and it’s interesting geologically. And there are some nice views too.

We are watching Designated Survivor on TV at the moment. The first series was good, as tense and gripping as the first two or three series of Homeland. The second series is good too, but there are more holes in the storylines and bad script decisions. We’ll see it through to the end of the third series, but after that, they don’t need to make any more episodes just for us, thank you! There goes my new career as a TV critic.

We were up early to collect the children. The plan was to go into Manchester by bus, but after waiting for over twenty minutes, we resorted to Plan B. We drove to Sale Water Park and caught a tram into Manchester. There have been strikes on our local buses, but we shouldn’t have been affected today. William’s first response on being told we would travel by tram was, ‘I don’t like trams’. As soon as he saw one, ‘Oh, I really love trams’. It was their first journey by tram, although we didn’t realise that at the time. No seats available at this busy time of day, and presumably many other people whose buses had gone AWOL, so we had to stand, and the children were just as excited about that as they were about being on a tram in the first place! Martha was also fascinated when the tram went along a road, with cars and everything.

Our first port of call was the Castlefield Viaduct, but we were too early, it wasn’t open. We decided to come back later. Let’s go down to look at the Roman ruins then. William wanted to go down in the lift. So we did. A very slow, ricketty lift. At ground level, the door opened, but we couldn’t get out. Someone had forgotten to take the padlock off the outside gate!

As Martha so succinctly put it: what’s the point of going down in a lift if you can’t get out? We went back up in the lift, and walked down the stairs, 60 of them, like we should have done in the first place!

Our next port of call was the Science and Industry Museum where we revisited the hands-on exhibits on the first floor, before having lunch.

William lost interest in the Red Arrows simulator very quickly, not one of the best exhibits really. But he did enjoy causing earthquakes to demolish buildings, or, in his case, stacks of wooden blocks. He enjoyed getting ping-pong balls to defy gravity, floating on a stream of air.

The main event of the day though was Yayoi Kusama’s exhibition, You, Me and the Balloons, that Liesel and I saw a few weeks ago. Martha had learned about Kusama at school, so she was very happy. They remembered the main rule: don’t touch the balloons.

I let Martha use my phone and she took some pretty good photos.

The queue for the Infinity Mirror Room was much longer than last time. I said I’d wait in line, and it was exciting to reach to point at which the wait was 30 minutes! Meanwhile Liesel and William looked at some other exhibits, Martha wandered round, doing handstands and somersaults.

I learned something new today. My phone camera takes a while to respond when the light levels are low. So, in the mirror room, I pressed the button while William was in shot, but it actually clicked a second later, by which time, William had left the stage!

As promised, we returned to the Viaduct. Martha and William were quite interested in the plants, but mainly, they enjoyed sitting down to draw pictures.

On this visit, neither Martha nor I could detect the smell of chocolate from this flower, although other people were able to.

The tram ride home was uneventful, the novelty of sitting and travelling backwards soon wore off for William though. Before taking them home, tired as they may have been, they welcomed the offer of visiting the playground in Wythenshawe Park. I don’t know where they get their energy from, Liesel and I just wanted to sit down and watch them running around. And climbing to the toppest top of the climbing frame.

The Wednesday walk was well attended this week, just the usual wander through the woods.

In the afternoon, I visited the Wythenshawe Radio studio from where I co-presented a ‘live’ show with Sarah-Jane. Her Dad, Roy, owned record shops in Manchester in the 1960s and beyond, and the two of them present a show together once a month. In between, S-J invites other folks to join her in the studio. I selected 16 records to play, and we had a nice chat for a couple of hours. I was reminded why I like presenting live, even if a couple of words did elude me in the heat of the moment. Tears were shed in the studio. Today is was the anniversary of Elvis Presley’s passing, and S-J’s Dad was a big fan. And after picking a Sinéad O’Connor song a few weeks ago, Sinéad passed away, which shocked us all, but I didn’t want to change my selections. You can listen to Sarah-Jane’s Happening here on Mixcloud, I make an appearance about 50 minutes in.

I then joined a few other volunteers for further training on the Myriad system, the software used to send on Wythenshawe Radio. When I got home, I was worn out. Myriad 6 Anywhere is a complete, web based interface for controlling every aspect of a radio station.

The Thursday walk was as usual, longer, through the woods and parks of Wythenshawe.

And I travelled into Manchester again to donate some blood, which is why I consumed a very creamy coffee and a millionaire’s shortbread ahead of time. Glad to say I’m still a ‘fast bleeder’ so I didn’t have to wait too long for my post-donation biscuits.

In the evening, Liesel enjoyed a birthday party for a 90-year old lady, and she didn’t come home drunk, nor full of ice cream and jelly. Happy birthday, Eve!

The organised Friday walk was cancelled this week, so Liesel and I picked Michael up from the Lifestyle Centre, and we enjoyed a nice, long walk around Sale Water Park amd beyond.

And yes, we did stop for a coffee at the pub!

Later that day, Liesel met up with a friend, Audrey, in Didsbury, for a quick chat, lasting several hours. Meanwhile, some people might have been listening to Mick’s Music Mix on Wythenshawe Radio. Ups and Downs, that was the theme of the show, and you can catch up here. That’s a lot of me on the radio this week!

Watching Matilda

Suddenly, sunflowers have sprung up all over the neighbourhood. Even Martha and William have pet sunflowers at the moment.

I like sunflowers, not only because they follow the Sun across the sky, and they bring joy whenever you see them, but they are mathematically very satisfying. If you look at the seeds and count the spirals, in any direction, you’ll always find it’s a Fibonacci number. I know this, but I still feel the need to check, just in case nature’s made a mistake.

We didn’t venture far afield this week, too busy at home. But I think we mostly got in our 10,000 steps a day, in Northenden and Wythenshawe.

And hello, Gypsy Ryan, welcome to the world, lots of love to you and new parents Bambi and Brett, friends of Helen in New South Wales. We look forward to meeting you all at some point!

Martha has been asking for a while to revisit Quirky Misfits and this week, Jenny brought her and William along. Coffee and cake were as usual welcome. William wanted to play the games, including Connect 4.

He was very nonchalent about beating me, fair and square, to the point where for a moment, I wondered whether he even realised he’d won the game!

Martha didn’t want to have her picture taken while holding the I Smell Children cushion, no idea why. But she was happy to show off her blue tongue, from the slushy, diluted blue food dye beverage.

Unfortunately, for personal reasons, this coffee shop is closing down in a few weeks time, but I hope the children can come along one more time at least.

We wandered around the corner to the playground in Riverside Park which was fun, although we were all disappointed by the amount of litter flying about. Yes, the bins were full, but some of that stuff had never spent time in a litter bin.

William likes playing hide and seek so we hid and sought for a while, in my case, taking my step count for the day to over 20,000, in case you’re taking notes.

After Jenny and the children left Northenden, Liesel and I walked home, trying to decide where to eat. We got as far as Viet Guy and thought, we’ve been meaning to try this place for years.

The food was very nice, and very filling. Next time, we’ll probably share a starter. It was good to see Vietnamese, or at least, south Asian, people among the clientele.

There’s a photo on the wall, inside the restaurant, of paddy fields. My plan was to take a picture of this, and then write about the new rice-growing paddy fields in Northenden since we’ve been having so much rain recently. In the end, I forgot. And, after such a satisfying meal, it was a long old slog, walking home.

Surprise of the Week. I’m reading some PG Wodehouse stories at the moment, and I was indeed very surprised to see this:

I thought that construction, ‘something something – not!’ was a recent American innovation. You live and learn. This was as earth-shattering to me as when I read Charles Dickens supposedly incorrect use of the word ‘literally’.

Who did we see in concert this week? Well, Martha and William as it happens. All week, they’ve been at the local Dance School, rehearsing and designing the set for their production of Matilda. We joined Jenny and Liam and the other grandparents Alan and Una for an afternoon’s entertainment. Our two did very well, but all sixty children put on a really good show. I resisted the temptation to sing along to School’s Out, and that was to everyone’s benefit.

Martha’s contribution to Matilda’s school library

Earlier, I suggested that’d we’d been quite busy this week. Well, Liesel was doing some actual work, while I was putting together a radio show. At Liesel’s suggestion, the theme this week was Rain. And between us, we came up with over 4 hours of songs about Rain. What to discard? Well, in the end, none. I sent a two-hour show to Wythenshawe Radio as usual, but I uploaded a much longer edition of the show onto Mixcloud. If you have nothing better to do, you can listen to four and a bit hours of Rain-soaked music here.

Imagine my horror and disappointment then, when, watching TV a few days later, they played Joe Brown and the Bruvvers singing Teardrops in the Rain. That would have been a perfect song to play in my own show, if only I’d remembered it. Oh well, listen out for Volume 2, I guess — not!

PSA: I am still trying to work out why for some people, on some devices, under some circumstances, sometimes, my images appear distorted. As an experiment this week, I have not edited the pictures after uploading them to WordPress. Please let me know if you experience changes. Thank you! If the pictures still appear in the incorrect aspect ratio, then I know I can point the finger at WordPress. Please let me know one way or the other, thank you!

Weather or not

In the quaint and charming society of Britain, where genteel manners and civility reign supreme, conversations about the weather dance gracefully amidst the exchanges of social niceties. As the Sun rises and sets in its majestic cycles, so does the topic of weather occupy the parlours and drawing rooms of esteemed households and luxury apartments.

With great propriety, British people find solace in discussing the ever-changing skies, for it is a topic both universal and safe, bridging the gaps of acquaintance and forging connections anew. And British people like a good whinge too. Especially when precipitation persists perpetually day after day. The subtle nuances of cloud formations and the gentle caress of a Summer breeze invite observations and reflections, inspiring lively discourse and fostering a sense of community amongst diverse acquaintances, whether out walking in the rain or skulking inside gazing at the latest boxset.

As ladies and gentlemen, or Liesel, I and several strangers, gather for afternoon tea or an evening soiree, the weather is the ballet of our conversations. “What a terrible day we have today,” one might exclaim, to which another replies, “Indeed, the Sun hides behind the clouds like a frightened child.” Like the waltz of an elegant ballroom, these exchanges follow an unspoken rhythm, harmonizing the social symphony.

Yet, behind these seemingly mundane discussions lies a shared understanding — a tacit acknowledgment of the weather’s influence on daily lives. Rain or shine, it governs outings and pastimes, and its unpredictable temperament becomes the muse for plans and diversions.

And so it proved to be as Liesel and I did attend afternoon tea at our local church, St Wilfrid’s, all part of a borough wide campaign to help feed the local community. We chatted with the curate, Andrew for a while, as well as some of the other tea drinkers and scone scoffers.

On the walk home, we took a diversion to visit the new, vegan coffee shop by the Riverside playground. After all this time, the long closed public toilets have a new lease of life.

After all the rain (sorry, more weather), the water pressure in the fast flowing waters of the Mersey had pushed over some of the bushes on the part-time island.

Wythenshawe Hall was damaged by fire a few years before we moved to Northenden, and after being repaired and refurbished, it has been opening to the public once a month. And for the first time this month, we had no other plans, and we remembered to go.

We met our walking buddies Dot and Chris on the way to Wythenshawe Park. Our deliberations on the parlous state of our weather recently were only interrupted by the need to have a moan about how difficult it is to get to the park, when it comes to dealing with major crossroads where the traffic lights really are not in the pedestrians’s favour.

Chris, Liesel and Dot in Wythenshawe Park

The volunteers at Wythenshawe Hall were dressed in costume, and when asked, they related stories of the Tatton family who lived there.

We wandered over to the coffee shop where Chris ordered a slice of Victoria sponge. It was a huge slice. Liesel helped her finish it off.

Back at home, Liesel asked what the puddle on the floor was? No idea. Eventually, we found a leak from the pipe taking mains water to the cistern. Another nightmarish plumbing issue. We turned the water off, called a plumber and the leak was fixed the following day.

We picked Martha and William up from their home and we drove to Catalyst near Widnes, a science experience centre and museum that we’d taken them to years ago.

Before going inside though, we had a lot of fun in the playground.

The children enjoyed all the hands-on equipment inside, as well as iron filings and magnets, bubbles in a big tube of viscous fluid, small hankies travelling along vacuum tubes. William enjoyed using the elevator, refusing to call it a ‘lift’. And their short stop-action movies were very impressive.

In fact, we took the lift up to the top floor from where you see it raining in every direction.

Of course, the Mersey is much wider here than it is in Northenden, and from this distance, we couldn’t see any discarded tyres or fridges or couches.

We’d also booked a workshop where they learned about bees, the different species, the stings, and about making honey.

They both had a go at weather forecasting, but their predictions were no better than the real thing.

It was fascinating watching them both satisfying their curiosity, trying things out and, especially in William’s case, getting more and more tired through the day.

The rest of the week, we walked here and there, hardly mentioned the weather at all, he lied. What we didn’t expect to see in Wythenshawe was new trams that have been introduced as part of the new Bee Network, integrated public transport for Manchester.

The radio show this week was a wander through an Enchanted Forest: songs about Trees. If you missed the show on Wythenshawe Radio, you can catch up here.

Waters and daughters

Water, water everywhere. That was the weekend. Two days of almost constant rain. Our gutter continues to drain in the wrong direction, and there are now at least two other problem gutters on our building. I’m so glad we’re keeping up payments to the management company, I’m sure they’ll send someone to fix the gutters one of these months.

In more watery news, we went to watch the children’s swimming lessons, and we are blown away by how good they both are. I didn’t successfully swim my first stroke until I was 14, and that was in the sea at Hastings, where I benefited from extra buoyancy in the salty water. And I’ve never been able to dive to the bottom of a pool to retrieve a block. In that respect, Martha is like a little mermaid.

Did we go out for a walk this weekend? Of course not. Instead, we re-watched the whole of The Night Porter on TV. And that reminded me, it’s about time I read another John le Carré book. Although I am enjoying a Jeeves story right now. Liesel enjoys the way the bed moves when I’m chortling at PG Wodehouse’s finest work.

But not everyone is averse to being out in the rain. William enjoyed playing football in extreme conditions. Did we go and watch? What do you think?

It stopped. We went for a walk along the river, commenting on high the water was, and how fast-flowing. Hope it calms down a bit before the annual Northenden Boat Race at the end of August!

As soon as we left the flat, Liesel regretted not bringing a coat, it was a little chilly. By the time we got home, we were glad not to have the extra weight, it was warm, hot even, almost like a proper Summer’s day.

It was a nice long walk though, through Millgate Fields and on to Fletcher Moss with its botanical gardens.

After a coffee, we walked into Didsbury and bought a loaf of bread at the newly opened branch of Gail’s the bakery. We’ll still frequent La Chouquette of course, but it was closed today.

We successfully avoided being splashed as cars drove through puddles next to the pavement. I did suggest to Liesel that I carry a large building brick to act as a deterrent, but she vetoed the idea.

My visit to the dental hygienist was uneventful. Don’t know why I mentioned it, really.

It was the last day of Martha and William’s school year and the other grandparents picked them up from school. Liesel and I decided to go to the zoo. Our first plan was to visit a castle, but we thought, it looks like a nice day, ideal for a wander outside. And we did indeed have a good time. True, it did started raining lightly later on, but we visited parts of the zoo that had previously eluded us. And it wasn’t too busy: that was another reason for going today, it’ll be much more busy during the school break.

We wondered why many of the big cats were having a lie down, it was warm, but it wasn’t that hot! It was nice to see some animals for the first time, usually we’re concentrating so much on chasing the children around, we don’t get so far afield.

I went to Wythenshawe for the regular walk with the best of intentions. But by the time we’d all met up, it was raining again. Quite hard, so we decided instead to go straight to the coffee shop. Well, it passed the time, the precipitation continued, teasing us by easing off for a few minutes now and then, but returning with some force. I briefly thought about walking home, but no, I didn’t fancy getting that wet today. Another time maybe.

Liesel joined the walk the following day but I had other plans: I walked over to Didsbury for a massage. Marie Louise Gardens was nice and quiet, I wandered around for a bit, watched the people and the dogs and the squirrels.

And guess where I went for a coffee after my lovely, hard but relaxing massage?

The radio show this week was titled ‘Fathers and Daughters’, so songs by Fathers about their little girls, and by girls about their Daddies. Plus a few Father-Daughter duets. You can catch the show here.

Dear Reader, if the photos appear distorted, in the wrong aspect ratio, please let me know. Tell me how you’re reading the blog, PC, phone, whatever, which browser, and if it’s a recent issue. I’m trying to work out what’s changed in the last few weeks. Thanks very much!

Stench and the Dial of Destiny

One of the things we like about living where we do is the oak tree outside. It sheds dead wood now and then, but so far, the falling logs haven’t bonked anyone on the bonce. Nor did that large branch land on the car parked in the wrong place in the communal car park. We enjoy watching the magpies at play and sometimes fighting, or is that foreplay? And the squirrels: I think there are at least two, one of whom sits sedately when we walk by, while the other one scampers up the tree as soon as we appear. We don’t see many acorns, maybe the squirrels grab them and hide them first. But this week, our tree sprouted something very unusual.

It was meant to be a night out for Liam’s birthday, but sadly, he and Jenny weren’t feeling on top of the world. So Liesel and I used the tickets. We enjoyed an evening of The Best of British Pop Music, played by the Hallé Orchestra, at Bridgewater Hall in Manchester. Pop songs from the last 70 years. We enjoyed it although I personally wouldn’t label some of the chosen songs ‘The Best of British’.

The MC was a certain Ken Bruce, who broadcast on BBC Radio 2 for over thirty years, before recently jumping ship to Greatest Hits Radio. It was good to see him, and he was quite funny.

The vocalists were Laura Tebbutt (who I’ve heard of) and Jon Boydon (not sure) and they did a good job of interpreting the songs. The orchestra was conducted by David Arnold, composer of many James Bond tunes, musical director for the 2012 London Olympics and Paralympics, not to mention being on Björk’s first album, Debut, and all-round good egg.

Laura Tebbutt, Jon Boydon and David Arnold

Yes, I feel bad that Liam and Jenny missed the show, but we’re glad the tickets didn’t go to waste!

More live music was seen the following afternoon at Boxx2Boxx. The big surprise though, in passing, was seeing the local Tesco Express all shuttered up.

Later in the week, there was hoarding all around the site, so I think some refurbishment must be taking place, although I’m surprised we didn’t see any publicity in advance.

Anyway, back to Boxx2Boxx, where Zha Olu played for two hours, with a break at halftime, and despite the intermittent rain.

She performed a wide variety of songs, including one by Oasis, two by the Bee Gees; Fleetwood Mac, Britney Spears, Cher, Katy Perry, Amy Winehouse, Killers were all represented.

Quite a few of us were sitting outside, and the rain didn’t deter us. Those two, like me, didn’t have coats. But someone walked down the road and acquired ponchos at the Pound Shop. I assume the hats came from there too. It was a great atmosphere, and I hope there’ll be more music here sometime, and I hope we get to see Zha Olu again at some point. Look her up on YouTube!

This picture was put up on Instagram later: see if you can spot Mick.

We haven’t had visitors for a while, so it was nice to collect Helen and Steve from Gatley Station, so much easier than from Manchester Piccadilly. They’d been in the Lake District for a bit and even as far afield as The Isle of Man.

We ate dinner at The Metropolitan in Didsbury, a nice veggie burger in my case, since you ask. But have some sympathy for Helen and Steve who both wanted fish and chips: alas, the restaurant had sold out!

Why did I take this picture of an old advert hanging in the toilet? Because the model closely resembles my Dad at a young age, and he did indeed use Brylcreem.

Then off to Parrs Wood Cineworld where we watched the newly released Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny. It was great fun, and I was pleasantly surprised to hear a Beatles and a David Bowie song in the soundtrack.

Despite the threat of wet weather, we visited Quarry Bank Mill for a bit of a walk, and a wander around the Mill itself.

The dahlias looked good in the rain, and what a coincidence: I just started reading a PG Wodehouse book in which Bertie Wooster’s Aunt Dahlia looms large.

Our visit to the Mill itself took up so much time, that our planned tour of the Apprentices’ House never happened. We’ll get there one day.

We drove Helen and Steve to Leigh where they spent one night and visited a friend before taking the train home.

Liesel attended the WI Craft meeting, with her decorated fairy door, which, I have to say, was much better than all the others on display. I’m sure the fairies prefer it too.

When we walked Hadrian’s Wall in May, Liesel grew a huge blister on her little toe. Fortunately, this was on the final day of the hike. Fast forward to this week. Her toenail fell off. There’s no other way to break the slightly gruesome news. The toe with the big blister shed its nail. Liesel put in under her pillow, but sadly, there’s no such thing as a toenail fairy.

The regular Wednesday walk didn’t take place this week: instead, I returned to the optician to repeat one of the tests. I did better this time. I hope I don’t have to bother the optician for another year.

In the afternoon, we collected Martha and William from school, and brought them home, where they decorated their own fairy doors.

After dinner, we took a pair of tired children home, and against all odds, they didn’t fall asleep in the car.

The Thursday walk was also cancelled, but we both joined Michael on a slightly truncated walk around Wythenshawe, finishing in good time for Liesel to make her physio appointment. In the end, she was so early, that she had time for a bit of a walk in Gatley Carrs. Meanwhile Michael and I enjoyed a coffee in the usual place.

Friday, I returned to Manchester University to help with someone’s MRes research, well, I hope I helped.

When I got home, the predicted rain had stopped, so we went for a walk. One thing we didn’t expect to see was someone camping on Northenden Village Green.

We walked along the river and through the woods, all the way to Wythenshawe Park. I wondered whether any of the coins that I secreted a couple of weeks ago were still available. I remembered some of my hiding places, and I’m pleased that many of the coins had been been discovered. I hope people were sufficiently curious to look up online to see what The Find was all about.

On Wythenshawe Radio, my show’s theme was Memories, songs about memories and forgetting. You can catch it here: don’t forget.

A couple of weeks ago, we went out somewhere and noticed that the car stunk of garlic. Where’s it coming from? Maybe a dropped bite from a service station sandwich? We looked all around the vehicle, but couldn’t work out where the smell was coming from.

In the boot of the car, we have a big black bag, a carry-all bag, with lots of bits and pieces in it, shopping bags now known as ‘bags for life’, our litter pickers and pink council-approved plastic bags for picked litter, plus some other paraphernalia. No, nothing in there was responsible for the odour.

Before our visitors, Helen and Steve, arrived, I took the car in to be washed and valeted inside. I thought whatever the source of the aroma would be hoovered up. The car was nice and clean. And before picking our visitors up from the station, to make room for their luggage, we put the carry-all in the cupboard under the stairs in our block. Nobody goes in there, except the electric meter reader once every six months.

After Helen and Steve had left us, and a couple of days after hosting the grandchildren at home, we thought it was time to retrieve the bag. When I opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs, I was engulfed in a miasma of stench. Garlic. Aha! So, whatever the source of the malodour, we’d pretty much proved it must be in the black bag after all. And, indeed, we realised that we’d not complained about a smelly car at all this week.

We went through the contents of the bag, slowly, methodically, meticulously, one item at a time. And guess what we found in an old, padded but torn, cool bag? A clove of garlic. Why? How did it get there? Our theory is that it’s been there since we took some ingredients with us on our trip to Wales in May. May! It’s been festering in a cool bag, in a black bag, in the boot of the car, in the heat, for over two months! Phew, what a stench. The bag in question has been not so ceremoniously dumped.

My original note was mistyped:
Just one Clive og garlic