Running here there and...

Waking up on the dot of 5.30 (damn that internal alarm clock and it registering silly things like pancakes) one stumbled out of bed in search of mouse... sweet mouse... glorious mouse. The hour was a necessity due to the fact that we had plans, lots of plans, all squished together due to time restraints. We were doing well; in fact we were on time to leave the house at the allotted hour when His father fell out the door and over his Zimmer frame... literally. We left him, bleeding profusely, in the care of the other Zimmer frame wielding member of the household and fled with all the grace of two small panicked animals streaking towards freedom... there was actually a scramble as we both hit the door at the same time.

We did well; we even managed to meet our poor, long suffering friend who was down for a week, on time. Considering the vagaries of public transport, the only sensible way to get to the Valley, it was nothing short of a miracle. So we passed our time in the pursuit of, well finding a few things we hadn't come there for at all. See the trip had been all about going to Spunk'd, a sex shop that caters primarily to the gay male market. It just contains the best range of anal toys (duh!) and a very good selection of other essentials, like all things hitty and slappy... and zappy but one prefers to forget about those things. We will return at a later date to what followed us home from there, but for now one will say that gentleman in the place was incredibly charming and helpful J

There was a side bar to the Dr. Martens shop to buy shoe laces for Him. It ended up two pairs... one of which was attached to a new pair of boots for one small shoephile. It's been years since buying a pair. With the extra weight on they were not the most comfortable of footwear. The silly thing is that the second to last pair were similar, both being snakeskin, but the other pair were purple. Not the favourite colour, before some of you whits start. So here we are twelve or fifteen years later... full circle.

We then we hit this fabulous store called Trash Monkey, full of all things steam punk, rockabilly and eclectic companies of that ilk, where an incredibly short tartan skirt might have found its way into a bag, along with a fabulous dress covered in big red cherries. Our friend might have also spent a tad too much money there, but the dress looked fabulous on him and the shoes were to die for.

Tottering down the mall, laden like small pack ponies, we came across this fabulous statue while in search of coffee. It represents the tale of the Leaping Carp or the Carp Leaping Over Dragon's Gate. A quick search will find the curious of you the tale. But he was such a brilliantly colourful carp that we all had to take pictures of him to share.

So there we were... four hours later; exhausted, overburdened and in possession of things we hadn't really gone there for. It was a good day and there wasn't a parent in sight J