Day 1 Canary Islands

After a bit of an adventure over the new plane bridge at Gatwick and a delay due to a plane traffic jam we have arrived in the Canary Islands.  The pilot made up speed by taking short cuts, his words. I guess airspace has rat runs too!

Being generous I immediately shared my suncream with Mr Him soon after arrival.  It took a few beers and two sangrias for him to later comment that something had gone 'terribly wrong' with his arms as they were glittery.  Yes, I had shared my 'abfab'esque glitter sun screen with him.

Meanwhile we have bought some local cuisine to ripen on our balcony.

Meanwhile on my boring blog there's a post for the ladies on my travelling wear here http://muttonyearsstyleandi.blogspot.com.es/?m=1

Gin

It's been a while.  I've been under a carpet of gloom over the ref...ref.. I don't want to talk about it.

I'm going away soon on vacation.  I may well post from there but pictures may be a problem.  Last time I blogged and loaded pictures it caused Hastings Battleaxe to ask if I was on the gin.  The uploads did very terrible things to my blog.  I admit I may well be on the cocktails and will be able to use that as my excuse. 

Talking of gin, I tried a lovely little number on Sunday.  I had been given a bottle of gin with a jumper that I bought. Stop.  Stop now. Close that front door. Do not go rushing out to buy jumpers in the hope you will get a litre of free gin.  This was a sample size. The sort you get on a plane. 

However this gin was very lovely with a tonic.  It was called Bloom and had a crown stamp.  What more can I say!

View from an office block

Dear reader, I've been working in London this week and was lucky enough to be right on Oxford Street.  The view from our meeting room window was straight on to the works for the crossrail  Elizabeth Line. 

We remarked that they didn't appear here to be going deep so concluded that this is the works for a station.  It makes sense to have one on Oxford St. 

The men look like Leggo figures. 

This guy up in the crane for hours. 

Google says that in fact this is to be a ticket hall with entrance on Dean Street  for the new and expanding Tottenham Court Road station which will have an Elizabeth Line stop ergo, we were correct in our deductions. 

Ardingly South of England Show

Dear reader, today's blog is a pictorial of the South of England show.  Mr Him and I took the day off work on Friday and attended this epitome of countryfile local to our home.  I see that Battleaxe also visited  (that's not my new name for Miss 21, although apt on occaisions.)

Firstly the horse bit (not a pun.)

The shire's were pulling their tradional carts and lining up for the judging.  The driver had to doff his cap to the judge and address him as Sir.  

This one is sponosored by our local Lewes brewery.  

After the parade Mr Him visited the shire's for himself, no doubt looking for the associated brewery. 

The Hounds on display

This hound kept running off to join other pack's.  Friendly little canine.  

We moved on and Mr Him found the Leffe beer sampling stall.  I lost him for half an hour here. 

I feel I should remark on the hayfever he suffered that day.  The pollen even caused a rash on his face,  or was it the beer. 

Jointly we found the wine tasting stall. 

We stayed a bit longer at the wine tasting stall. Wisely we took the bus to the show and left the car at home. 

These little cauliflower sheep look easy to reproduce for a table display. 

The cactus stall was so pretty too

This could do for me at home.

The geese 

Mr Him looks like he's lining up for a dog treat too. 

No! We aren't having one of those!  Just No!

The local school's costume competition winners. To make it clear this is not uniforms! 

and the school's word work competition winners.  I love the fish below.

Finally a Seed's for Change stall (for Christine.)

In other news I have discovered Aperol here 

and housework here 

The Full Monty of Trifle

Having left Brussels to recover from my visit I have thrown myself into family life this last weekend.  On Saturday I made a trifle.  This was no ordinary twee sweet sherry trifle.  No, for I went for a 'full monty vodka shot trifle' many months in the preparation.  Mr Him had made strawberry and mango vodka last year. Rather than waste those vodka infused fruits we froze them to enjoy in the summer.  Perfect to serve to unwitting guests at a bbq, accompanied by a taxi home.

The vodka soaked strawberries and mango chunks were flooded by strawberry jelly and left to set overnight.

A layer of custard  (I used a carton) 

followed by a layer of whipped cream 

and topped with sprinkles. 

All the better to stop the vodka evaporating.  Served with a spoon and a glint to my eye, from the fumes.

The sun shone.  It was hot but not too hot.  The family and guests were polite but not too polite. The potato salad creamy but not too creamy. The trifle  tipsy but not too tipsy.  A perfect use of the strawberries and mango.  The good news is we still have more in the freezer.

On bank holiday Monday I met my brother and my mum for lunch and we went to Prezzo.   I so love those decorative jars in there. Always a photo opportunity but I think we make far better use of infused fruits. 

Mum was sent home with half her carbonara in a doggy bag  (carton actually.)

Back to work Tuesday and the Yogurt Churner Extraordinaire decided to move back in. There is no more room at the inn. We are now full.

Views of Brussels from a Taxi Cab and other waffle

Dear reader, being a business sensation I was summoned to make a presentation in Brussels this week.  Well I would be, wouldn't I!  It's obvious to you, I'm sure, that my views on Brexit and Bremain plus Br...don't know, must be heard, or perhaps not!  As I sat not five minutes into my journey I realised that I hadn't packed a blusher brush.  Then I darn well realised I hadn't packed blusher.  Off to a grand start.  With memories of my mascaraless meeting last year running through my brain I hyperventilated for a bit and then devised a back up plan.  I'd use a lip pencil as my blusher. 

I was travelling with seven others to talk at a seminar.  Four of the team were organisers and we other four speakers from a selection of companies. We knew each other well as we often work together.

On the Eurostar I rallied my 4 fellow speakers  to the bar coach where we glided across England,  France and Belgium drinking alcoholic beverages. 

drinks on the Euorstar

 Into the umpteenth beer for them and second wine for me  we had decided Tai Chi at 6 am in the gym was a mighty fine idea.  Once the men moved onto their umpteenth plus a few it was decided that the workshops the next day should begin with the Birdie Song. (if you don't know it, Youtube it, you must)

(For full disclosure the alcohol was not on expenses, nor were the Pringles.)

We arrived and eight of us squeezed into a taxi.  'Shall I go in the front?,' I said helpfully  opening a door.  A quick, 'not that side you're not ' from a panicked speaker, as I realised I was hopping into the driver's seat. Flipping left hand driving. It caught me every taxi ride and each time my fellow speakers were adamant that I was not driving them through Brussels. I can't imagine why!

views of Brussels from a taxi

Our hotel

we had arrived

After a quick turnaround in our rooms we met for our evening meal.  I accompanied mine with water but the men had beer by the gigabyte. Look at the glasses.  They were heavy even when empty!  Apparently they were giving their arms a workout.

Mighty gigabyte glass 

We had had a long day with a hard day ahead and decided it was a night.  Making my way to my room I passed a shoe-shine machine.  A glance along the corridor confirmed I was alone so I decided to play.  Just as I was holding my foot out under the brushes
a fellow speaker came along.  I explained what I was doing but  it clearly wasn't convincing as the following morning he told my fellow speakers at breakfast that I was clearly stressed by the presentation as he saw me 'giving the wall a kicking. '  My reputation dissolved before me.

Once again we piled into one cab for eight people. Once again I tried to drive the cab.  Once again I was removed from such endeavour by my fellow speakers. On arrival at the venue seriousness ensued as we all became professional. Competence was worn as a girdle around our silliness only to be released at 5.30 that evening as we set back off for the Eurostar once again and once again I led the way to the bar coach. 

Heading back to the Eurostar and we notice Brussels outskirts also has a rush hour

Leaving Brussels on the Eurostar

Belgian countryside

A blurred Belgian countryside

It was a hard couple of days work,  intense but fun.  As well as giving a presentation I also ran 3 workshops.  On Wednesday night I arrived home at 11.30 at night and was very glad to climb into my own bed.