This is a story of boy meets heavyweight champion of the world… but more of that later.
August was largely spent up ladders or on haunches, sander or paintbrush in hand, slowly transforming the house.
This, of course, given the need for days out to entertain and enjoy, was balanced with several excursions to local attractions and places of interest.
The first of these was Kirkdale, to see in person the new trains, due on the Merseyrail network any day now. It felt like a covert operation: we had to sneak a picture through a gap in a railings.
E was very excited to see the futuristic 777s on the tracks; me, more so the beautiful blue of GP for the first time in ages.
Trains were a common theme of the holiday, as model railways suddenly became a thing. I’m quite liking visiting the shows, what with some weird old characters enthusing over twin gauge something or others and very expensive special editions. The notion of creating these perfect little worlds is quite enticing, particularly as I never bothered with anything like this when I was young. We even saw Pete Waterman and his record breaking train set (and some wonderful artwork by an old friend, Nicky Thompson) during a wonderful day in Chester and then lunch at the Southport terminus in between a long-awaited return to a play centre and a Captain Pugwash artwork exhibition.
Then came the moment you’re all waiting to hear about: meeting Tyson Fury.
Almost five years ago, a serious situation led to a stay in Alder Hey. E’s annual check up was due, and I knew the boxer was at the hospital following the recent arrival of his baby girl. As soon as we walked into the atrium I saw him, stood talking to a security guard with his entourage surrounding the family. I’ve been there as a worried dad and the last thing you’d want is weirdos coming up to talk to you all the time in that situation, but he was happily sporting his Gypsy King regalia so wasn’t exactly incognito and there was no way I could pass up the opportunity so we respectfully approached and had a quick chat. No selfies, just warm wishes and discussion of Lancaster, future bouts and the baby’s health. He was amazing with Elijah and I’ve since started reading his autobiography.
We will never forget the day we met the champ.
The Lancastrian theme continues with a grand day out in Manchester: lunch under the pink neon sign at Liam’s very cool new place, The Smithfield Social, for amazing small plates and a new love for soul bowls – with honourable mentions also going to Afflecks & Brown, Trof and a jewel of a place, Sicilian NQ for cocktails – then, talking of the 17th, a wonderful trip to Blackpool for B’s birthday at the Sealife Centre and Notarianni’s Ices, which is basically the most me place ever, what with the homemade vanilla ice cream, the Art Deco decor, the Trickett affiliation, the Maradona stickers on the tills and the Passalaqua cups.
The summer showed us that B is growing up fast; tantrums and make up have replaced sweetness and princesses, that’s for sure. Thankfully, we were also lucky enough to spend time with family, and were saddened to say goodbye the extended family of Kids Planet Crosby nursery which was an emotional parting given the journey we went on and the growth and development shown there.
It wasn’t all practical, though: there was some creativity! The amazing street art in New Brighton, which has really brightened up the place, and the luscious, lustrous Lucian Freud exhibition at Tate Liverpool were real standouts. The former was particularly impressive, especially given it was in the seaside town that they tried to shut down (and only last week, failed) but the latter was full of forgotten gems and reminded me of lessons spent closely studying some of the painters portraits.
Meanwhile, other days spent decorating led to evening viewing… honourable mentions go to the excellent Cruel Summer (took me back to the mid 90s), Mare of Easttown, If… (took me back to school), A Kind of Loving, Tracy Beaker, the mysterious 9 Perfect Strangers and the pick of the bunch: This is Us, a story of coincidences, time travel, narrative twists, parenting, education choices… basically, my life story, which really got me thinking. About a lot of stuff. We’re watching an episode a night, it’s that good, and it evokes thoughts of Blood Brothers as well as my own past eight years (and possible future)… yes, it’s really that good.
Meanwhile, Summer is fading.
We refreshed the front of the house. Finally got the broadband sorted, and attended our first White party, and a great time was had by all. We enjoyed another amazing meal at Six by Nico, what with excellent service, amazing dishes and accompanying wines, and an overall beautiful and clever concept which never ceases to amaze me. This time, the courses were all on the theme of the Amalfi Coast, where we spent our honeymoon, and just for a while we were back there… the Vongolle, the lemon dessert, but the second dish, the burrata, was for me the stand out because of the textures and the colours and basically every single mouthful…but, as the song goes, nothing ever lasts forever and before we knew it, we were coming back to (yet another) new normal and back to school for all.
Wake me up when September ends.