How much Fun can be had with 2 Lilos and a Husband's Underwear in a Full Lift?

Dear reader, 

Mr Him has done it again.  Caused Miss 18, myself, reception staff and various guests in a lift great hilarity. For most people this is no mean feat but in Mr Him's case it just took underwear, or lack thereof. 

We had moved hotel. In the new hotel Miss 18 and I weren't satisfied with the room so arranged a transfer. Mr Him had unpacked already eager for his second week to begin.  He repacked and we shuffled across to the new room. We then lazed by the pool,  enjoyed happy hour, had a swim. Mr Him waddled off to our room for a shower. He was a while.  He was more a-while.  After even more a- while we went to the room to see if he'd been washed away.  He came to the door ensconced in a towel. ' I seem to have a predicament ' he said. 

'I don't have any underwear. ' 

We were incredulous.  'You've been here a week and only just noticed.' 

'No, I had underwear yesterday.  I just don't today. '

'What, none?'

'Yes, none except what I wore today.'

I asked him if he possibly left them in the other room. Miss 18 and I giggled (convulsed actually) our way to reception. We explained Mr Him's 'predicament.' 

I don't know who's plight they had sympathy for, mine, Mr Him's, Miss 18's, theirs or the general populace's but reception handed over a key to our last room with supersonic speed, and laughter. "You better check before the next people arrive and think they're a hotel giveaway. '

'They'd complain if they did ' I said.  ' they aren't exactly new'. I didn't add maybe not even clean. (Actually they were clean as our dirty clothes go in a laundry bag. )

We found the pile of clean boxer shorts neatly folded in a draw, handed back the key and wandered to restaurant to browse the menu, just to keep him in suspense a little longer. 

Then the lift beckoned. We squeezed ourselves in amongst 2 men, one lady and 2 lilos. One man decided it would be amusing to keep bopping us with the upright taller than us lilos.  

We told them of the boxershorts excursion  which led to one saying.  'How much fun can 5 people  have in a lift with two lilos and a husband's underwear. '

There are no videos.

Miss 18 and Sioux City

Dear reader , I'm not sure whether you have gathered but we are on our annual holidays.  Once again we are in the  Canary Islands.  This time as you would have gathered Miss 18 has joined us. Miss 18 has not featured in my posts but now she's 18 she's fair game as blogvictim.
This week we took miss 18 to a wild west replica town, yes in Spain.  We had the most amazing day at Sioux City. 
Our inevitable  video is below

Video of Sioux City 

This year we have come to  Gran Canaria. It's our first visit to this island. 

The Cartooning of Mr Him

Mr Him has mighty fine ideas. And sometimes he doesn't.  Tuesday night after a dry Rose wine and a chocolate mousse thingy he had an idea. It was a subjective idea.  One whereby you aren't quite sure whether it was fine or not, so you give it a sample.  Those who bought tickets to watch may well have thought it was fine.  After half the bottle of Rose Miss 18 thought it was hilarious.  

The idea was to have us caracacheuteured. That may well look like neutered, which I'm sure you'd think was a fine idea in Mr Him's case, but it's my word for turning us into cartoons.   I needed all the Rose Miss 18 could spare me to sample this idea I can tell you. 

Miss 18, full of the joy of Rose, hopped eagerly into the torture chair.  The light shone bright upon her emblems of independence and adulthood, her piercings, and her teeth.  As the artist picked up his equipment the crowds gathered.  A drummer rolled his drum of doom and suspense.  The result,  Miss 18 was immortalised alongside a piranha. Next Mr Him.  The stallholder next door realised his opportunity for enrichment.  Tickets were sold with mutterings of ears, bonus chin.  For 10 euro extra watch the forehead being formed. It was a success for all who gathered, especially the entrepreneurial stallholder next door.  (Don't worry, you have the video). Next my turn.  I sat all a nervous, not having had the benefit of a sufficient amount of Rose.  I dared not to smile and show my teeth, having seen what the artist had done to the other two.  A lady in the audience smiled encouragement to me like a mother to her child on stage.  She nodded and mouthed 'It's OK.'
Mr Him thinks the artist was kind to me.  Thank you Mr Him! 
Yes, here's the video

Enjoy.  I didn't.

Highdown Garden

Dear reader 

He did it again.  Mr Him,  the man living on the edge of taste.  Whilst last Friday was about all things Grease by Tuesday there was new eccentricity.  I had asked him to make scrambled eggs.  Simple you'd think.  Not much room for eccentricity.  Wrong!

Mr Him wandered the garden for inspiration. Not to the chicken coop where one would suppose scrambled egg inspiration would come.  No. He wandered to the flower borders. Here he gathered herbs of an 'interesting' kind, and I say herbs loosely.  He raided the  lavender, and added it to the eggs as he whisked.

It was another taste sensation too far. Believe me.  

Looking into cooking with lavender it seems there are varieties that lend themselves to culinary ventures.  I think our garden lavender didn't.  I asked my French friend,  the Nat Nav,  what she'd do with lavender.  If anyone would know about lavender in food it would be someone French.  She said, 'put it in a scent.'  'not eggs then! ' I replied. 

She laughed.

Talking of flower borders we visited Highdown Gardens recently with Mr Him's dad and stepmum.

And here are the pics, but first lunch, 

mushrooms in batter with mayo

or rather pudding.


Mr Hims

Mr Him's dad.  Note the T shirt. I see where Mr Him gets 'it' from .

Stepmum's icecream

we tried to catch a dragonfly on film

former lime kiln

A very chalky area.  Think white cliffs of Dover.  They run all along the south coast.

Gorgeous colour of this old post box

Time for a cuppa.  Hey, we're English.  We like our afternoon tea.

The Soprano

Dear reader,

Mr Him had a touch of the Sopranos last Friday. I have to tell you that I didn't like it and immediately told him to get in the shower.  Ladies, if your man succumbs in such a way do pack him off to be deluged in water, and cold tar soap if possible.  

We were going out with friends.  I had dressed in my best Olivia John outfit.  Bardot top in black and black trousers.   Maybe this is what caused the outbreak for Mr Him pranced around the room singing, 'Tell me more tell me more.' ,This was much to the cats dismay. The cat, who was curled up on the bed,  abandoned such warm spot for another without accompanying catawalling.  Grease was on Mr Him's mind, and it wasn't  long before it hit his darn head. 

I had turned my back not one minute before the Sopranos hit.  In the room with me,  and thinking he was going out with me  (a thought too far) was the ruddy Godfather! 

He had swamped his hair in some slick from the 50's. This was not good.  

Tell me more turned into 'you talking to me' spoken nasally. 

I packed him off to the shower.  Nothing less than a hair wash was going to solve this nightmare. 

Now that's better isn't it.  Video here.  I call it the Reformed Soprano

Mr Him Visits Goats

Now that that advert for my Facebook page is out of the way back to the Anna lifestory.  We had Father's Day of course since my Oslo post.  Knowing how Mr Him likes his inner goat (see herding-goats here) what could be more fitting than taking him to see goats, climbing goats at that.  

So with eagerness in my mission I bundled Mr Him, Miss 22, Mr 26 and Mr 26's dad into my car.  Yes, 2 father's days in one.  A take one, get one free sort of drive to see goats. 

Did they enjoy the day.  Here are the pics, and of course there is the inevitable video.

They are enamoured!

Mr Him (left) is clearly delighted with his outing

The goats

the video bit click here

Facebook Page, New, Limited Offer

The struggle is real!  I have promised Instagram followers that I would use that swipe up function on Mystory to link to a jewellery providor.  I shouldn't have promised. Who would have thought it would be so darn hard!  I discovered that to be able to swipe you need to be a verified user.   You cannot ask to be verified.  Instagram does it when it decides you are worthy.  In order to be worthy I decided I need to be, well, worthy.  I decided to define worthy as 'have a Facebook page with 16K followers.'  I didn't  have a Facebook page for my blogs.  I set one up yesterday to get 16k followers.  I tweeted. I Instgrammed, I mystory-ed.  I got a mighty 9, yes 9 followers. And one of those is my brother!

So you see the struggle is very real. 

Here is the Facebook page  Join the cause if you feel like becoming one of such an elite number, the few in the know, the few that follow @muttonstyle on Facebook.  I  may end up restricting numbers so get in early.  Yeah, right!  

What's in it for you?  I intend to focus on my 'other' blog over there with the odd celebrity visit of my Anna blog posts. If you are interested in all things 'the ordinary middle aged woman' its for you. well, let's limit 'all' things to clothes, shampoo, make up, life, mid-life, packing, yes packing, lots of packing, shopping, food, diet.   

How much Fun can be had with 2 Lilos and a Husband's Underwear in a Full Lift?

Dear reader,  Mr Him has done it again.  Caused Miss 18, myself, reception staff and various guests in a lift great hilarity. For most peop...