Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans, said a great man once, and the past few weeks have proven that theory tenfold.
Birthdays make for a busy September and this one was no exception, with days out at the Ribble Valley Train Museum (a step back in time) and visiting both Cathedrals; welcome dips into the cultural and spiritual wells. New routines were adapted to, generally quite positively, and new normality felt, well, normal but with a distant threat never too far away.
New regimes, too… by and large. Everton have remained a bundle of contradictions, literally from the sublime to the ridiculous, and as great as it was to watch a couple of games uninterrupted in an actual pub, I couldn’t wait to make my return to a ‘live’ match for the first time in 23 months and still enjoyed it immensely despite the disappointment of the surreal score line and toxic atmosphere at the end which took me back to 1994. I love that we’ve recently been announced as one of the three most ‘vulgar’ fan bases who swear the most.
UTFT indeed.
Thankfully, such sporting underachievement was tempered by two brilliant boxing bouts especially the Tyson Fury v Deontay Wilder fight I watched quietly under the bed covers at 5 in the morning. I felt a bit responsible for his victory to be honest, having wished the Gypsy King well for the fight when we met him in the summer. Something of a benevolent voyeur, I was, which funnily enough was the name given to an article on a photographer I was kindly sent an article about recently and was blown away by some of Elliott Erwitt’s work, which were instantly familiar but felt like a new discovery. What was amazing is that I even happened upon a picture of him picking his nose next to a statue in Rome which I also stood next to, not picking my nose, in 2004.
Talking of looking at things differently, the work on the house neared its conclusion and new series were enjoyed not quite in comfort yet but in much more inviting surroundings (literally) as weekends were spent painting and evenings admiring the outcomes. Hilarious Brassic, the surreal and gripping Squid Game which took the world by storm (and I really loved, especially the impressive set pieces, but won’t spoil for anyone yet to join the red light green light party) upcoming returns of Temple and my favourite Gomorrah, make the cosier, darker nights all the more enticing.
Not entirely unexpectedly, the real highlights of this past couple of months came over half term. A chance to rest, but also do things we’d been looking forward to for ages. A visit to see the new Merseyrail 777 Trains, which I’d enquired about for junior’s birthday, and finally a chance to get onboard (and sit in the drivers seat, learning all about the controls and cameras) which was an unforgettable experience for all involved.
Talking of which, my new favourite restaurant and a delayed birthday celebration courtesy of my wonderful wife and the nearly as equally talented Ellis Barrie at Lerpwl. She had opted for the Capricious menu and I was delighted to see that, as the name would suggest, the menu changes almost daily. We had had an aperitif in the stylish One O’clock Gun next door – an Albert Dock gin for me, in fact – so were more than ready for the culinary journey to Wales and back we were about to embark on and then were even more excited to be offered a kitchen table to see how the magic was happening and engage in conversation with the great man himself, who I’d watched in countless episodes of GBM and even the reboot of a childhood staple, Ready Steady Cook.
This was how I felt walking in and seeing the great man at the pass:
The oysters were incredible, the treacle sourdough too. Other standouts were the mackerel, with its deep green accompaniments, the curried crab accompanying the hake, and the large glass of Plexus as recommended by the chef himself. The real favourite was my first ever taste of the wild mallard, a more ‘gamey’ duck, served and explained by Barrie himself. This was a really nice extra touch, that the chefs largely deliver the dishes themselves, or the maitre d’ or the barman, giving the place a fluidity and informality I cant remember noticing as much anywhere else.
As it was a special occasion, I also opted for the cheese course – again, like nothing I’d ever eaten before. The mix of truffle, Welsh blue cheese and a crispy frangipane tart sounds crazy and has to be truly tasted to be believed. The final course, a chocolate and banana extravaganza, was the perfect way to end a luxurious, somewhat decadent two and a half hours of being spoilt.
We will definitely be back, hopefully for our tenth wedding anniversary next year, when I will have fixed my collar…
To walk off the heavenly fare, we visited the new show at Tate Liverpool featuring the eclectic work of Lucy Mackenzie, some very ‘me’ works which also introduced me to the term ‘Quodlibet’. What with the trompe l’oeil notice boards, the collaged posters, the gymnastics performances, it reminded me I used to be an artist… talking of which, there’s exciting Mann Island-based news coming next time!
Honourable mention too, to to the groundfloor-based interesting installation by Emily Speed: Flatland, inspired by the 1884 novella which reduced women to thin, straight lines. Thankfully, this one hasn’t!
I vowed at the start of the year that these blogs would be based on Neil Sedaka’s ‘Calendar Girl’ and recently re-watched this amazing performance; this is perhaps the most serendipitous of the links therein.
(September) I light the candles at your sweet sixteen
(October) Romeo and Juliet on Halloween
(November) I’ll give thanks that you belong to me
As well as mine and my son’s (note the acrostic) birthdays, my godson, one of my proudest creations, recently turned sixteen. Halloween came and went; Bonfire Night too, and I felt particularly grateful and appreciative after a (somewhat oxymoronic) busy and restful week off.
Then, before we knew what had hit us, John Lewis released yet another advert; a postmodern ET, one of my favourite films, and the countdown to Christmas was on.