Ay up. We have been to the North and we have come back. I mean the North of England – well not even that really. We have been to Manchester. I am technically from Manchester way but we don’t get to go back very often This was a flying visit to see a concert in the Bridgewater Hall. For those who aren’t familiar with the Bridgewater Hall, it usually accomodates the likes of the Halle Orchestra or the Choral Society. On Friday night, it played host to a Northern Soul and Motown evening. The reason the event was in such an august setting was that there was a full orchestra providing a strings and brass background to some frankly brilliant songs. However, Northern Soul is basically music for the working classes and no-one should have been suprised when we working classes descended on the Bridgewater like seagulls on an open binbag.
Most people were very well behaved and if the doormen are not used to having a lady with several teeth missing insisting on showing them her tatoos, they certainly didn’t show it – much. She was so happy, it almost made me resolve to get inked myself. There was plenty of Northern bonhomie. The lady who sat next to us assured us that we could leave our coats with her at half time as she had no intention of going through our pockets. Ha. This was something that had obviously not occurred to us up until the exact moment that she told us that she would never do it. There then followed an awkward few moments when we weighed up laughing gaily while we checked our pockets or throwing our coats over our shoulders feigning a sudden chill and trying to change seats.
The evening itself was fantastic. Lots of brilliant singers singing lots of lovely songs with some of the best acoustics ever. I am no expert in the Northern Soul department but Head of House is very, very (very) wise in this department and he was more than happy with the music. Phew.
We did go into the City Centre for a bit of shopping (A bit! Remove this debit card from my hand now!!) I haven’t been there for ages but it did look a bit shabby which was a disappointment. Although, to be fair, the general ambience was not helped by a large group of workmen, trying to put up fifty log cabins for the Christmas Market while donks like me insisted on tiptoing through their carefully placed roof joists to get to Zara.
In other news, it is November 5th today and this means that I am acknowledging the existence of Christmas. Although, did I tell you that I have cancelled Christmas this year? Well, I say cancelled, I am not doing all the turkey shenanigans etc. Firstly, I heard an interview with a lady who said that she had never done all that stuff. On Christmas Day, they had a walk, went to church, ate bacon sandwiches and soup and fell asleep in front of Indiana Jones with a glass of prosecco. I wistfully announced to no-one in particular that this sounded lovely. HOH then said it was ok with him and he may be working anyway. Both kids will probably only be here for limited time. Aged Parent doesn’t have a say because she behaved very badly last year and also I think she is better if she ends the day in her own bed. So – there we are. I have done the full on dinner for twenty odd years now and we are paring back unless anyone else wants to take it on which I doubt. I may compromise and do something in the slow cooker – haven’t decided yet. Either way, it’s very freeing. (BTW, am not having a go at you if you like to do all that. I’m just not.) Anyone else done this? How was it?
Lastly – is anyone watching The Little Drummer Girl? I haven’t read this so am at a bit of a disadvantage. (Although I had read the Night Manager but had to go back and re-read the end because they changed it completely) Anyway, really liked the first episode – but did not have the faintest idea what was happening in the second one. I mean, I thought I knew but then it seemed I didn’t. No one is apparently what they seem which is not unusual for a Le Carre but I am not sure what they are or who they might be pretending to be or not. Phew. Will stick with it though, partly because I like the frocks although there is an Israeli spy lady/Palestinian terrorist lady (not sure) with the most terrifying feather hair cut. I would arrest her at any airport she arrived at. She certainly looks like she is up to no good. Not all of the Seventies was glamour and velvet pants it seems.