Things to do in Manchester

It has not escaped my husband's notice that there is quite literally a beer festival happening right now, just feet away from his own fr...

Well, it's been a busy old week. So far, I have spent three days in Edinburgh, shown exceptional bravery at the dentist, and finally got...

It all began a few months ago, when I observed I had a new Twitter follower who rejoiced in the unusual moniker of @manchesteregg. Now, thos...

Such are the vagaries of life: one minute you're (ahem, hypothetically speaking) sitting in your pyjamas, half-watching Countryfile and ...

Now, I have nothing but admiration for people who are able to fully commit themselves to the dedicated following of fashion. I myself am ful...

There are often nice things happening in the offices of Didsbury Life: that unassuming facade on Burton Road actually conceals a tardis-like...

I have found a definite advantage to being a greedy-faced glutton who will eat pretty much anything: it allows you to take advantage of exce...

Now, there are only so many hours in a day, and a distressing number of those are spent at work, so some prioritising may be in order. As we...

I am starting to think it may be physically possible to attend a different festival every weekend. This is exciting news, and whilst my hypo...

Saturday morning, and across Manchester men are jumping from their beds, rubbing their sleepy little faces, and crying, "Is it time? Is...

Further proof this week - as if any were needed - that I am now officially the greediest woman in Britain. I realised this incontrovertible ...

Anyone who has chanced across this blog before may be aware that I am partial to the following things: 1. Food, in any guise, but ideally in...

Oh. It was meant to be such a low-key evening. After a hard week's work, what could be nicer than a drink at Silver Apples in West Didsb...

Occasionally, I attempt to post some kind of meaningful comment on Twitter or Facebook. This is always soundly ignored by the general public...

Before last night my knowledge of Evita could be described, at best, as "sketchy". I think I once saw the last 10 minutes of the M...