Sadly, the day after the wig party I had to work and, as I mentioned previously, Jim was suffering from post-wig party syndrome, but by SUnday we managed to muster enough energy to take a walk in Hampstead Heath. The best part was that we ran into Meg and Dan on our way. Unfortunately, they were going in the opposite direction and to another part of London, but it was still fun to run into our dear friends.
Hampstead Heath was muddy because it's been raining a lot lately. JIm was concerned about the condition his pants would be in so he took some extra precautions. Nice socks! It was a typical grey and rainy day in London, so we came home and got into comfy mode. FInchley was in his fort: Jim was in his Texas A&M sweatshirt: And there is no photographic evidence of my existence that day, so you'll have to take my word for it.
I have been slacking a lot on keeping the blog up, so I'm a little behind on our life happenings. Last weekend we went to a WIG PARTY, hosted by our friend Richard (also my co-worker). It was our first truly English party (as in we were the only Americans there and we knew no one except for Richard and everyone kept saying things like, "Nice American accent.") and we had a blast.
I was a little boring and got a standard light purple wig, but Jim went out on a limb a little bit and went for the 80's frosted tipped look:
Richard wore a mullet in the style of Elvis crossed with REO Speedwagon:
Goldielocks, David Bowie, post electric socket, and Marge Simpson were there:
My looks are greatly improved when there is pink hair covering my face (I'm sure some of the bloggers out there who hate me would agree, but I have set the blog so they can't leave their nasty comments. MUHAH HAH HAH HAH! And yes, I'm still bitter.)
Jim wasn't feeling so great after the party. I blame this.
It's always more fun to call a cab when you have a wig to dance with.
ANd it doesn't matter if it's raining when you have a chance to pose as an 80's pop star.
This weekend, Jim and I went on a nice walk in the SUNSHINE (rare lately) and in the country! We took the train to a place called Amberley and then walked about ten miles to the next town, Arundel, where we spent the night in an old hotel next to a castle.
WARNING: My hair is going through a very, very bad time right now. It's really not a mullet, but it does look like one sometimes.
The walk started out with a lot of hay, a huge pile of manure, and some peaceful cows.
We also spent some time watching some gliders being taken up and then let go to sail across the sky above the fields and hills, which Jim thought was very exciting and cool and I thought was frightening.
We could see the sea on the horizon and the sunshine was wonderful. The clouds made patterns on the hills and the colors were incredible.We still haven't gotten used to how green England always is. Even the birds were feeling extra chirpy. When Jim asked me what kinds of birds they were, I replied, "Twittering birds!" at which point he began this interpretive dance. Sadly, I held the camera sideways and because I have it set on low res for easier blog posting, the quality isn't the greatest, but you can see his passion...sideways.
After the dance, we made our way to a small village called Burpham, where we continued our most mature behaviour: It was the quintessential "quaint village" with thatched roofs and red phone boxes.... and a gastropub, which provided us with more opportunities for immature behaviour:
The unfortunately named dessert, Spotted Dick, is actually a sponge cake with raisins in it. We didn't get that, but we did get the Sticky pudding with toffee which was PURE EVIL. It was seriously delicious.
Here I am upon feasting my eyes on the sticky pudding. ANd JIm, post pudding consumption:
Despite our immaturity, we had a great conversation with two very nice English ladies who were delighted that we love England so much.
And the walk wasn't all about stuffing our faces.
After our large lunch, we made it to a river, which we followed all the way to Arundel: It was at this point that my hair started doing really strange things.
It was pretty marshy and there were lots of swans hanging out in a field. The Arundel castle loomed large in the distance!
Arundel was lined with boats: Jim in the morning in our hotel room, which was in an old building that is an abutment to the castle: Outside of the castle: And a really old and cool little cottage: We took a walk around the Castle's lake, which was full of everpresent seagulls, but also some very cute coots (also everpresent, but not as offensive) and some sweet ducks. The trail didn't seem like England. Eventually we had to go back home, so we headed to the trainstation, where we had to wait for half an hour in the cold. At least the sun was shining and I had something to read! They were doing "planned engineering" on our route back home, so we were diverted to the town of Crawley--home of ROBERT SMITH and the rest of the original CURE. Jim was very excited. Crawley is the pits from what we can tell. On the train, I used my downtime to turn Jim blue.... ...green.... And black and white except for his red sleeves. It was a fruitful trip home.
