Mr Him Knew his Day Would Come

Dear reader, last weekend Mr Him  had another adventure in apparel. Not unusual, I know, but this time his star is risen. Finally he is a voice face head in the fashion industry.  How did this happen?

We had gone to the Autumn country show at Ardingly  (you know how much we enjoy these shows having told you about the Spring and summer shows in previous blogs. ) I  will add that on this occasion  I did not buy a loincloth scarf combo however tempted Mr Him was. I can assure you that if I had his fashion star would not have risen and I've told him as much. 

As we got through the gate of the showground  it happened. A stirring in Mr him. Something primal and deep in his ancestral routes (note to self to ask his dad about this). No doubt in years to come I will remember this moment, for it was the moment that Mr Him embarked on his modelling career. As an aside he also asked me to call him 'Crocodile Him Dundee' and added 'dag' to his vocabulary but we won't dwell on that. 

Well, Mr Crocodile Him Dundee at that moment discovered the Barmah, the Austrailian folding hat.  He plucked hats off a nearby stand, he stroked, he debated kangaroo or cowhide, he tilted and tipped. He chose. Then he said,  'Hey Dag, got one for my Sheila,' and with that  I was crowned Mutton Mick.  The stall holder then saw a certain panache in Mr Crocodile Him Dundee. A panash that Mr Him had been telling me for years was there but I couldnt see it for love nor money. The stall holder however saw 'The Panache'. Mr Him was asked to model the hat around the show. This was his moment.  Mr Him had awaited his whole life, to be recognised as the style icon that he knew he was and for someone other than him to see 'The Panache.'

He was asked if would go on a walkabout and wear the hat around the bush show, try it, feel it, live it, become one with it. Now I've told Mr Him to go on a darn walkabout in the wilderness many a weekend but does he? No! I've clearly made a mistake all these years. I made the mistake of not telling him he was modelling. Next Saturday I shall tell him to go modelling over the heath. That should keep him busy for a few hours. I digress though. 

Mr Crocodile Him Dundee went amodelling and took me with him.

He modelled  the hats to take a selfie.

oops,

He modelled them to take a selfie

He modelled  them for our personal photoshoots

He modelled  them to chickens,  lots of chickens. 

He modelled  them to goats. 

He modelled them to donkeys

Mr Crocodile Him Dundee's modeling was so successful that at the end of the day he was given a free smoker bag.  

That, dear reader,  is not the end of his modelling career, for two days later his mobile phone rang.  It was the Barmah hat seller. Mr Him was being asked to  model Australian boots next and do five shows a year.

Mr Him knew his day would come.  

A hangover called Anna

Good day, dear reader.  As I write this it's pouring with rain and we're expecting storms this week.  We have, though, enjoyed some excellent weather, better than July and August in my opinion. 

To capture the spirit, literally,  of our late summer Mr Him and I have had a bit of adventuring.  The weekend before last we journeyed in our imaginations to the Caribbean.  This was helped by being surrounded by rum, coconut and fruit juices.  In fact the more  familiar I became with rum that afternoon the closer I got to the Caribbean. 

We had taken ourselves on a date-afternoon.  Yes,  date nights are beyond us.  Far better to have the hangover at 9 pm, have a cup of cocoa, go to bed and sleep through the worst of it, to awaken refreshed the next morning. 

This particular date-afternoon saw us Mr Him advising the mixologist at a restaurant how to make a cocktail.  Not any old cocktail. Mr Him s special cocktail. The mixologist scurried away only to appear at our side 10 minutes later with a glass which he thrust at Mr Him, 'try that, I've improved it.' Mr Him was quite speechless. Improved it! The mixologist waiter then gave me the concoction with an 'its on the house.' 

Mr Him remained speechless. What luck was this!  Mr Him speechless, a waiter waiting to take our order and  happy hour.  What was to be done ordered?  Two pina coladas for me of course!  Mr Him was still busy trying to pick up his wits but luckily mine were present and enough for two.  I immediately designated him driver, ordered him an alcohol free ginger beer and my double colada. 

Amongst remnants of shipping containers we ate chicken with coconut off tin plates.  Mr Him  sampled rums by dropping drips from a straw onto his tongue whilst I had the benefit of pouring a measure from a bottle for myself.  

I went to bed early that night and slept through any hangover Mr Him may have had.  I think he called it Anna.

Wobblies, Dinner, and New Found Stations

Dear reader,  there has not been much joyful to tell you about recently.  However on Monday I did go to a dinner in London.  This was enjoyable, although a note to self in future would be to say 'food preference, no veal'.  A dinner in London is not that unusual but what was remarkable was that this one threw ten of us into a private room, as representatives of corporate, NGO, banks and government, to thrash things out and put the world to rights. Listening to the news today you can gather we didn't get very far, but what can you do between starter and main course, really. 

What was more remarkable about the evening is that I got home.  The dinner was in the East End  of London.  I tapped my app to see my home route choices.   I was expecting options of London bridge or Victoria, but no, my phone threw it's own wobbly!  It churned out Shoreditch Highstreet Station then on to New Cross Gate and then East Croydon from which I was to phone home!  I didn't even know there was a Shoreditch highstreet station. 

Well, as one does, I do, I decided to explore these wobbled options. In retrospect 10 pm might not have been the best time but I needed to grab the moment whilst it was there. 

I used my maps app and found the unbeknown station. It has to be said that there are a lot of new stations plus new lines and routes through and around London. This is the London Overground network. 

A train came and carried me to New cross gate where I waited and waited. ..and waited.  I waited 25 minutes.  It was 22.45 before I got a train to East Croydon where I'd pick up my next connection.  Remarkably I was in bed 45 minutes later. The connection at East Croydon was on time and a fast train.  I did phone home and Mr Him met me at the station and  drove me to slumber. 

The journey took a total door to door one and a half hours.  If I had traversed London by underground to Victoria and trained from there it wouldn't have been quicker.  I am satisfied my phone gave me an unusual but timely route. 

The next day I entertained tormented, surprised my friend Natalie with a my rendition of 'Underground Overground wobbly are we...' She hasn't travelled with me since.

Talking of wobblies the men in the office wobbled again this week with a detour from blue, and mid-week too.  

Pictorial of Tenerife

As promised, dear reader, here is a simple blog of pretty holiday pictures. 

Our hotel was near a harbour. 

We visited this rustic beach bar a few times.

Hard Rock Cafe in Tenerife. We try to get to Hard Rock in every location we visit.  Last year it was Brussels and Manchester.  This year Tenerife. 

Similarities to Vegas (on sea) but then this town is called  Playa das Americas

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Our  morning stroll up Red Mountain

and back down again..

Then to admire from a safe distance ie the bus stop. Yes we walked to that rock and back as well as up it. That's my exercise for 2015 done. 

Finally the view from our hotel bar at night. 

On the Lava Rocks

Dear reader, you have probably been wondering where I have been.  Well  Tenerife is where I have been.  Yes, Mr Him and I journeyed, for your delight,  on a plane for four and a half hours to  a bit of a way off the coast of Africa to seek some sunshine.  (You will be pleased to know, on a side note, that no one moved in whilst we were away.  It was risky I do grant you.)

This trip to Tenerife saw Mr Him expand his wardrobe.  He enlarged on his clothing theme by trying out the cocktail look, not dresses, that would have been far preferable I can tell you. 

On the very first night he dressed  as a Tequila Sunrise. Of course  I had to have one to prove the point.

However his attire was not the only drink display he had in store for me that evening.  He decided that he needed to demonstrate on the rocks to me.  I let him and sat back laughing as I much preferred the traditional interpretation.

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Yes, that's him, the speck out there clambouring.  As for me, well you see the drink in the foreground, need I say more.

Mr Him realised that he had not impressed me so proceeded to show me another example of 'on the rocks.'    Shame about the plastic cups but you can't have everything.

This was not the only fun Mr Him had in store for me.

For my entertainment he danced amongst fountains,

he persuaded me I could do a Marylyn, (this wasn't so much a case of asunder, but desperately trying to keep ####under).

He went to great lengths, or weights, measures anyway, to show me that I hadn't put on weight on holiday.  Really I hadn't!

but just in case I had he had the consideration to make me climb this flippin' great rock, called Red Mountain, under the pretense of 'lets go for a morning stroll,'

I even managed it and reached the summit.

The culmination of this adventure was to walk along a nudist beach at the bottom of the rock.  Mr Him covered my eyes screaming don't look Mrs Mutton Years, don't look.

There aren't pictures for obvious reasons but I did capture these waves thrashing around in distress in the vicinity of said beach.  As you can see its a popular beach!!

On my next blog I will show you more picturesque pics of the island.

In the meantime, I am back in the UK but why let the fun stop.
Mr Him has bought a selection of freezer cocktails to inspire his autumn wardrobe choices.

However I have a better idea, I'm going to drink his colour pallet.