Episode Two of The Weekend

I received this lounge feature, a Tinkle machine,  from Miss 21 and the automotive engineer. It makes a lovely flowing aquatic noise.  It will be perfect for getting guests to go home after they've had too much of our beverages. I'll switch it on to create ambiance of gentle streaming water.  Gone is the so last year idea of turning the heating off. 

Mr Him invented an alcoholic drink for me. After a couple of these I had to turn off the tinkle machine.  

We went to a local Italian chain restaurant Prezzo, for lunch. 

 I wore a new blouse and decided to christen it with Prezzo Royale which I poured elegantly down the front creating a raspberry waterway. It looked a river of red weed out of War of the Worlds. 

I ate crab cakes followed by a Prezzo Royale and rocket and wild mushroom pizza.

Honeycomb cheesecake and a  Prezzo Royale followed.

We walked waddled home a new way, through a private lane, and admired the houses, blossom that's about to bloom and the odd stained glass window. 

Miss 21 and the automotive engineer made bought me this lovely cake from Sainsbury's. It really is light and not as rich as it looks. 

Approaching my bedtime Mr Him turned on the Tinkle Machine.  It works.  

Meanwhile on my boring blog I've  had an accident with coconut oil. Visit Boring Blog here  and add it to your follow list as I'm updating that pretty regularly too now. 

Birthday Weekend Episode One

What a weekend dear reader.  Someone not a million miles from this blog had a birthday.  Someone not a million miles from this blog has decided to  have another one next weekend.  Not that I'm  greedy. 

On Saturday night we had family drinks in our local (English for drinking establishment or watering hole. ) In attendance were Miss 21, Mr Him,  the automotive engineer boyfriend of Miss 21, the yogurt churner extraordinaire  (remember him here and here) , the rescuing girlfriend in orange Clio ( remember her here.)  And finally the mother of yogurt churner and coincidentally the mother of his twin brother.  It's great that the younger generation are now old enough to join us for a night out with a beer or two. 

For entertainment we played with a selfie stick and then conversation turned to what fish they each had.  'I've upgraded to a Tiger Shark, ' said Mr Him.   'I've got Megalodon,' trumped it from the automotive engineer.  Miss 21 has an electric shark.  I know that if i played this phone game I'd have frog spawn.

I made conversation discussing the benefits of coconut oil with the rescuing girlfriend in the orange Clio.  (BTW do not put this on your hair if you aren't staying locked in your house in the dark for 3 days, more on that another day.)

A pleasant evening was had by all.  Episode two of birthday weekend Series One is later this week.  Remember to set a reminder to read.  Series Two is next week. 
In the meantime entertain yourself with my boring blog here. It will give you hummus houmous hummus tips, not humour tips, and other fishy stories this week.   In fact why not add my Mutton style blog to your reading list so as you do not miss anything boring. 

My National Wine Drinking Day

Yesterday was National Wine Drinking Day.  Do my colleagues realise?  Er, no. However much I  suggested it by saying beverage and South Africa in one sentence the hint was not taken .

Instead I was offered a teabag from Zimbabwe

 (flavoursome but not as fulfilling as wine). 

"No!  A South African beverage," I said emphatically.

"Tea from Rwanda?"

  'No! ' I said, ' South  Africa!'

"Chocolate from Thorntons?"

"Well, OK then, as long as its  white."  No pic, I ate it too fast. 

Meanwhile, on my other channel I had an episode with boots. here 

A Swine of a Valentine's

Dear Reader, once again Mr Him decided that we needed to establish whether the Great Crested Grebes were feeling the mood of valentines.   They were not.  We did see the early morning rowing school,

Sussex old spot pigs

Luna saw pigs for the first time

and our chihuahua got mucky (and frowny) once again.

We did not venture to the pub this time but ventured home for a roast pork (no, we did not smuggle an old spot into our car however much Mr Him tried) lunch with a glass or two of Prosecco as it was Valentine's day.

Later in the day Mr Him grew a beard and a moustache.   He does that sometimes.  I'm still trying to work out how he manages it in an afternoon when he's supposed to be doing jobs.

The Miss 21 and her automotive engineer boyfriend successfully chose each other a valentine's present (they went into the same shop one after the other to get the other a surprise). I'd like to see what planned looks like if this is a surprise gift each! 

In the evening the four of us played a game of writing date ideas onto slips of paper and put them into a jar.  This jar should keep us going for a year of ideas between us.  When we pull an idea out we will put it back in the jar so as the other couple can have a chance of picking it too.

Over on the flipside I've updated my food diary and am struggling to understand why I feel so much better on a diet that looks so unbalanced (like me.). Ah now I understand  here

Feed Me

I think I must be giving out 'feed me' vibes.

As I sat in the staff room today a colleague strolled in with a trolley on which were sandwiches and crisps. 'Help yourself, ' he said.  I had a two three handful s of crisps. I was good.

Later in the day another colleague sidled up to me and said, 'would you  like this voucher for salad.' Salad, now that's a safe bet given my diet.  The voucher was for  £40 discount on salad!   That's some salad! 

On leaving the building you'd think I was safe from further offers temptation.  Ding goes the lift,  I step in,  a colleague says ' did you get some pasta to take home? '

Well no!  I got a voucher for  £40 of salad! (Cheated I think to myself. )
My pasta talking colleague told me to go to HR. Complaint tingling on my lips, I left the lift and headed for HR, where I was given some  pasta, 3 boxes. The complaint fell silent. 
Why was food being hurled at me and can you have some you are no doubt wondering.

 Firstly a lunchtime meeting had finished and left over food is traditionally brought out to other staff to scavenge.  Secondly my voucher was donated by a colleague who had obtained one from HelloFresh,  a box company whereby ingredients and recipes are delivered to your door. The hitch is I'd have to set up a regular subscription. I'm thinking on that one. (I wonder whether they do dates and chocolate balls of gorgeousness.)  The pasta was donated by Dolmio on a marketing drive, a big marketing drive. It seemed the whole town was wandering around clutching boxes of pasta when I left the office, finally.  

I wonder what tomorrow will bring. 

A Sunday of Walks and Pub

Yesterday was a gorgeous sunny day, before Storm Imogen comes through today.  We're expecting 70 to 80 mph winds.  We took the opportunity to walk around Ardingly Reservoir.  Mr Him wanted to check on  one of his (the lesser one,)  hydration supplies for the summer.  This reservoir provides Mr Him and others  in Sussex with water. 

It's currently reassuringly high. We have seen it more than half empty during droughts. 
Mr Him also wanted to see the Great Crested Grebes do their mating dance.  We have seen it once before and it's akin to Swan Lake on water. Unfortunately they did not show us their display this time.

Now without any further ado I will show you the photos of the reservoir and environs.

Later in the day we made our way to my current favourite village pub.  Here our Horseshoe Hats decided to embarrass us and do their mating dance on the bar.

 Not only does this pub serve my current favourite beer, Blue Moon, on tap but it's the local haunt for santa when he's having downtime. 

There is an intriguing display of memorabilia on display and we notice something new to be in awe of each time we come here.  Mr Him assures me that his jaw dropping mouth open look has nothing to do with him testing his other summer hydration  but is solely due to the artifacts.

I tried my best to keep up with Mr Him beer wise.  We had a pleasant afternoon chatting to Santa then headed home on foot, where I cooked supper.   This was by judicious slurring of ingredients to Mr Him across the kitchen with accompanying instructions as I sat at the kitchen table. 

My recipe for pheasant casserole,  non slurred version is here.
There is a bonus link to chocolate brownies to encourage you to look.

The Compelling of Mr Him

Dear reader,  I have this week seen the husband that the wife is blissfully ignorant of. The husband in his natural habitat, where he speaks as he means.  The wife, no doubt, blissfully thinks her 'special' nurturing or training is for the best for mankind.

Let's take my male colleague who sits opposite me as an example.  Most of the time I don't see him as he types behind his computer screen.  His wife has just gone into hospital for a hip replacement.  I said to him,  'you can watch TV in the evenings now.' (she normally dominates the tv). His head emerged around the computer screen at a 45 degree angle to it.  'Can I, ' he said in a flat tone and disappeared back behind the screen.
' ah, I suppose you have to go to visit in the evenings don't you. '

His head emerged at 45 degrees, 'yes'.

It goes back behind screen. 
'I'm thinking of having volume control fitted,' drifts towards me from behind the same screen.

'How long is she in for? ' I ask.
'Not long enough. '

My story does not end there.  On approaching a desk elsewhere I join a conversation on oils.

'My wife compelled me to buy coconut oil,' I hear.  My ears pricked up 'goodness, how does she do it?  I'd like to have a go at that.'  I say thinking of Mr Him.

Compelling, what a wonderful idea.  Such a strong word.  A word you can do a lot with. That evening I tried a compulsion on Mr Him.  It involved preparing me green vegetables for supper.

I think I need practice.  I clearly overdid it. 

Tonight I had a text from Mr Him, 'I know you are having broccoli for supper but what else are you having?'  I actually stopped reading at broccoli as I realised I hadn't lift that darned compulsion.

For clues as to how we have come to this, the compelling and 'special' nurturing nagging, special nurturing, let's remind ourselves of how it may have begun, when we were in our youth, here 

Making of Rhubarb Gin

How I made Rhubarb Gin and Mr Him does a BBQ See he's still being sensible. Maybe I should pour the gin down him! No. That would be a...