Hello,
I can certainly say that the last week has been much better than before. Whilst I am still stressed up to my eyeballs what with trying to find a solicitor that will actually communicate with me, source some little bits and pieces for our home and get a handle on my fluctuating depression, I have certainly found the last few days a little bit easier to deal with. Therapy this week was helpful and whilst I feel as though we are going over old ground with my mother and brother and that whole scenario, I feel as though this is a key component in trying to work out where I go from now and how best I go forward with my life and those in it. Life was just about manageable until Saturday morning happened.
We had a new girl, maybe in her early twenties move in a couple of weeks ago, a lovely lass who seemingly appears to scrub up well when going on a night out and apparently had a toddler daughter that was due to be moving in with her soon. We hadn't spoken much to her if anything at all but seemed like she was a responsible and caring person, although sometimes the types of characters and people coming and going in and out of her flat were questionable sometimes. With most of her guests being young men or in their 20's and spending roughly about 20 minutes in her flat and then leaving, Mr Warehouse and I had our own ideas about what potentially they may be getting up to in such a short amount of time and I am sure you will make your own mind up also!
Saturday Morning however I was awoken at 6:45am by the iron gate at the side of our Alley-walk-way we shared with our new Neighbour being forcibly banged against the wall, clattering and clanging every time. Hoping it might have been the wind or rain bashing it against the wall periodically I rolled over, enjoying the free space that Mr Warehouse had given me when he went to work in the small hours of that morning. Not long after the clattering I heard a massive argument ensue which included grown men, about our age, yelling and shouting at each other. Getting up and out of bed to see what was going on I peered out of my bedroom window only to see fighting.
"I've just buried my fucking Dad man and if your not careful I'll fucking bury you too" one lad shouted at another before storming off down the street, continuing the fight and even pushing and shoving each other on to the parked cars on the street. I heard the neighbours from upstairs shout down for them to pack it in. To be fair to them they did shut up for a short while before it erupted again, this time leading to glass bottles being thrown and smashed on the street outside our bedroom window. I could only assume that this was a drunken fuelled argument or spat that has happened between our new neighbours and/or her friends.
Now honestly I don't mind the parties or even the copious amounts of lads that are in and out of that flat on a weekly basis, I am not bothered or fazed by this at all. However I am, I think, understandably pissed when I am awoken so early on a weekend morning to World War III kicking off outside my bedroom window. Thinking that there wasn't much left to do apart from just simply get up and have a coffee and maybe breakfast, I called Mr Warehouse and spoke to him about Jeremy Kyle Live that has just started outside our flat. Mr. Warehouse continued to explain that this had apparently been going since the very early hours over the morning when at three in the morning when he was awoken by our upstairs neighbours yelling down to the rowdy youths in order to keep the noise down as it was a quiet family street and we were all trying to sleep. When the Bae then went to work just a couple of hours later at 5 o'clock it was still going and whilst the music was quiet there was quite a lot of loud talking and running back and forth along the side of our Alley-walk-way.
After the glass bottles were smashed outside on the street, there seemed to be a bit of a clean up operation in which the debris was cleared as best as possible, but with what appeared to be a spliff in one hand holding a red Cup probably containing a good measure of alcohol and the other hand in a desperate attempt to try and Sweep up what glass they could see with their beer Goggles on there is certainly a lot left to be desired. Flicking the kettle and rubbing my eyes I thank my lucky stars that I had my dressing gown on as two police officers were also called to the incident, I can only assume from the other residents on the street that were also awoken. Sipping my coffee as I watched some shit Saturday morning TV, all of which with one eye on the garden gate leading into our new neighbours flat of course.
After summoning all my might to get dressed, I took the Pooch for a walk only to find that the glass was scarcely cleaned up and was still a bit of a mess, something which could also cause other children or other pets on the street harm not to mention possibly even puncturing Mr. Warehouse's bike when he comes home. I also noticed that because of the constant banging and slamming of the gate that our little sign is broken which welcomed visitors and warned them of our pup. Now whilst it cost under a fiver I still didn't appreciate that our property was being treated in this way and with such disrespect as well.
Mr. Warehouse came home a few hours later and was the most angriest I have ever seen him. Seething, he ranted loudly about how disrespectful, rude and inconsiderate they were being. But what could we do? I had contacted my landlord a couple of hours after it had all kicked off and within minutes he had come storming round to the property, fuming that he was being taken for a ride and seemingly being made out to look like a mug. But now there were just as many people as before coming and going and coming back again, now even just standing around and having conversations in our garden. I felt quite uncomfortable and judging from the amount of alcohol that was going into the flat and comings and goings, I very much doubted that this would be ending anytime soon.
Messaging my landlord again in one last ditch attempt to try and get something sorted before it's all got out of hand again. As before, within a few moments of me sending the message there was a car screeching to a halt and parking up outside. Not thinking much of that I saw my landlord storm right through past our flat and into the our new neighbours garden, banging on the glass and ushering for the lass to come out.
"Woah who the fuck are you mate!" one bloke yelled obviously upset that his potential Beau had another older man banging at her window.
"I'm the landlord of this place" he answered as he marched the girl to the front of the property where they had a heated discussion, I can only assume (because I did not have my window open - Silly me) that she was being read the riot act and as a result would have to be on her best behaviour in order to keep a roof over her head.
I think all of that had happened on Saturday without my Approval In Principle / AIP and Mr Warehouse and buy in the process of moving soon, it's almost certainly would have made my mood even worse. Not long now!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Arguments. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Arguments. Show all posts
Monday, 25 June 2018
Monday, 23 April 2018
This is not a goodbye but a mere see you soon ...
Afternoon one and all,
Normally when I take half day I usually feel very stressed and under a huge amount of pressure to get everything finished and Thursday as lunchtime approached I did not feel like this. In a weird way I felt a odd sense of calm wash over me. I knew that I would be rushed off my feet in the few hours before I relaxed into the salon chair to have my hair done before meeting my family for dinner and reminiscing about some of the the times we had with Grandad and with each other.
Unfortunately for me this would not be the case. Sweating in the sweltering heat of my Orange Vivienne that in ASDA car park, Mr. Warehouse and I called my Nanny Pumpkin to find out what time she was due to be at the restaurant this evening. After ringing through a few times she finally answered flustered and in a bit of a flap. On enquiring what was wrong I was told that after my Uncle and Auntie had landed from Ireland they had going to visit my grandfather in the funeral parlour at Nevilles. Following this harsh reality my Uncle hit the bottle. In all honesty I am still pretty impressed that he was able to do a whole bottle of brandy in the space of about fifteen-minutes.
in a way it is quite easy for myself and the rest of the family to maybe forget just how how hard that kick from reality must have been. Both my Auntie and my Uncle live abroad and as a result there is an almost inability to connect with what is happening back home sometimes I think that some members of my family would be worth noting that whilst others have had time to process the news, others have not. Whilst I acknowledge that Granddad's death was certainly not out of the blue or something quick, the luxury almost of being away from constant conversation or updates about his progress or not at the case may be almost lends itself to the fact that they were sheltered almost from the reality until they landed on Thursday Afternoon.
And so it was with a heavy heart that I gave up my mojito in a nice restaurant and instead opted for a healthy salad whilst everybody else in on Indian or Chinese takeaway. But I missed out on all the drama when I went to collect the food with my other uncle and Mr Warehouse. So the story goes that my father turned up and when he confronted my uncle in the kitchen of my Nanny Pumpkins house it all went to pot and my family started a slanging match. Now don't get me wrong, all families argue, but I just hoped that given the circumstances at the time that things would have been left and not acted upon or challenged at all in one way or another one for each and every one of us were in some sort of shock, upset or grief including hurting and anger. No matter which way you look at it that was not the moment to pick an argument for have a fight. After my father left and my other uncle, Mr Warehouse and I arrived back home with dinner everything was tense. Here's hoping that everything would be OK tomorrow for that was the last thing that we needed another point for argument.
Waking up on the morning of the funeral with the sunlight streaming through the gaps in the hedge outside I just wanted to hide away and pretend that today was not happening at all. Hiding my head under the covers, Mr. Warehouse told me that this was a normal feeling and it would soon pass. Getting ready and heading down to my grandparents home, it's strangely had an almost wedding day like feel. With everything organised and things in place there was nothing left to do but turn up and hopefully try and enjoy what we could offer day whilst we remembered a great man. Throughout the morning as I helped people get ready and dressed, fed and watered, I can tell that Mr Warehouse was watching to see if and when I would crack. Truth be told I was fine and I had grieved for my grandfather many years ago. In a morbid sort of way I just wanted to get today over and done with so we could all start to move on.
Arriving outside the church it was getting hotter and hotter. As the sun shone down on us standing there in our black glory I looked over to see my uncle crying which made me feel quite uncomfortable, all in the knowledge that there was simply nothing I could do to make his pain go away or for the feeling to get any better. I looked over to Mr Warehouse and he gave me a sweet smile. Soon it was time to go in and with this I stepped forward after my Grandma and my youngest cousins at just twelve and eight. I walked into the church alone and with nobody by my side. This was not how it was supposed to be. My brother should have been here by my side, and yet after all the trying and attempts made to get him to reply to my messages or even acknowledge what had happened, I walked alone. In away as I saw everybody look in our direction I realised that they were not looking at me or even my Nanna, but at the military draped coffin. I felt the lump in my throat get larger as I watched The Pine coffin being carried along the aisle the brass cross emblazoned on the back of the coffin was all I could focus my attention on and hope that I did not trip in this god awful heels.
Sitting down on the second row on the right hand side of the church, I familiarise myself with the pictures and images I had seen as a child of Jesus Christ and other holy sentiments. It certainly was a blast from the past as I remember the times from my childhood where things were a lot less stressful and there was a lot less drama. Things were simpler back then but I was also a child and this is what happens when you grow up. People die. After listening to my father's eulogy it made me feel so proud as he stood along his two brothers, telling Granddad's life story and explaining some of the myths and legends that surrounded the man himself. Listening to that piece about my grandfather and looking around at the people that the Sat listening to only made me appreciate him more for everything that he had achieved in life and even opened my eyes to a few things I did not know about him.
As the service came to a close I stepped out from the church into the bright sparkling sunshine. Seeing some of my mother's side of the family come to pay their respects warmed my heart and made me feel as close to crying as I possibly came throughout the day. Everyone complimented me and my family on how beautiful and personal the service was. But it was not over yet so I had to say my bit too at the crematorium. Bundling back into my Viv, I raced across town in order to try and beat the traffic in order to get to the venue first. I wanted to make sure that I was not going to be late and that I had plenty of time to maybe rehearse or even look over my notes. I could not get this wrong. I had one job and this was it. With my grandfather yet again being carried into the crematorium for the very last time again I walked in alone after my grandmother and cousins. This is not the last few weeks have been leading up to. As I was 'introduced' and took the stand I knew that this was the moment everybody had been waiting for. What was she going to say and was it going to be appropriate?
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Normally when I take half day I usually feel very stressed and under a huge amount of pressure to get everything finished and Thursday as lunchtime approached I did not feel like this. In a weird way I felt a odd sense of calm wash over me. I knew that I would be rushed off my feet in the few hours before I relaxed into the salon chair to have my hair done before meeting my family for dinner and reminiscing about some of the the times we had with Grandad and with each other.
Unfortunately for me this would not be the case. Sweating in the sweltering heat of my Orange Vivienne that in ASDA car park, Mr. Warehouse and I called my Nanny Pumpkin to find out what time she was due to be at the restaurant this evening. After ringing through a few times she finally answered flustered and in a bit of a flap. On enquiring what was wrong I was told that after my Uncle and Auntie had landed from Ireland they had going to visit my grandfather in the funeral parlour at Nevilles. Following this harsh reality my Uncle hit the bottle. In all honesty I am still pretty impressed that he was able to do a whole bottle of brandy in the space of about fifteen-minutes.
in a way it is quite easy for myself and the rest of the family to maybe forget just how how hard that kick from reality must have been. Both my Auntie and my Uncle live abroad and as a result there is an almost inability to connect with what is happening back home sometimes I think that some members of my family would be worth noting that whilst others have had time to process the news, others have not. Whilst I acknowledge that Granddad's death was certainly not out of the blue or something quick, the luxury almost of being away from constant conversation or updates about his progress or not at the case may be almost lends itself to the fact that they were sheltered almost from the reality until they landed on Thursday Afternoon.
And so it was with a heavy heart that I gave up my mojito in a nice restaurant and instead opted for a healthy salad whilst everybody else in on Indian or Chinese takeaway. But I missed out on all the drama when I went to collect the food with my other uncle and Mr Warehouse. So the story goes that my father turned up and when he confronted my uncle in the kitchen of my Nanny Pumpkins house it all went to pot and my family started a slanging match. Now don't get me wrong, all families argue, but I just hoped that given the circumstances at the time that things would have been left and not acted upon or challenged at all in one way or another one for each and every one of us were in some sort of shock, upset or grief including hurting and anger. No matter which way you look at it that was not the moment to pick an argument for have a fight. After my father left and my other uncle, Mr Warehouse and I arrived back home with dinner everything was tense. Here's hoping that everything would be OK tomorrow for that was the last thing that we needed another point for argument.
Waking up on the morning of the funeral with the sunlight streaming through the gaps in the hedge outside I just wanted to hide away and pretend that today was not happening at all. Hiding my head under the covers, Mr. Warehouse told me that this was a normal feeling and it would soon pass. Getting ready and heading down to my grandparents home, it's strangely had an almost wedding day like feel. With everything organised and things in place there was nothing left to do but turn up and hopefully try and enjoy what we could offer day whilst we remembered a great man. Throughout the morning as I helped people get ready and dressed, fed and watered, I can tell that Mr Warehouse was watching to see if and when I would crack. Truth be told I was fine and I had grieved for my grandfather many years ago. In a morbid sort of way I just wanted to get today over and done with so we could all start to move on.
Arriving outside the church it was getting hotter and hotter. As the sun shone down on us standing there in our black glory I looked over to see my uncle crying which made me feel quite uncomfortable, all in the knowledge that there was simply nothing I could do to make his pain go away or for the feeling to get any better. I looked over to Mr Warehouse and he gave me a sweet smile. Soon it was time to go in and with this I stepped forward after my Grandma and my youngest cousins at just twelve and eight. I walked into the church alone and with nobody by my side. This was not how it was supposed to be. My brother should have been here by my side, and yet after all the trying and attempts made to get him to reply to my messages or even acknowledge what had happened, I walked alone. In away as I saw everybody look in our direction I realised that they were not looking at me or even my Nanna, but at the military draped coffin. I felt the lump in my throat get larger as I watched The Pine coffin being carried along the aisle the brass cross emblazoned on the back of the coffin was all I could focus my attention on and hope that I did not trip in this god awful heels.
Sitting down on the second row on the right hand side of the church, I familiarise myself with the pictures and images I had seen as a child of Jesus Christ and other holy sentiments. It certainly was a blast from the past as I remember the times from my childhood where things were a lot less stressful and there was a lot less drama. Things were simpler back then but I was also a child and this is what happens when you grow up. People die. After listening to my father's eulogy it made me feel so proud as he stood along his two brothers, telling Granddad's life story and explaining some of the myths and legends that surrounded the man himself. Listening to that piece about my grandfather and looking around at the people that the Sat listening to only made me appreciate him more for everything that he had achieved in life and even opened my eyes to a few things I did not know about him.
As the service came to a close I stepped out from the church into the bright sparkling sunshine. Seeing some of my mother's side of the family come to pay their respects warmed my heart and made me feel as close to crying as I possibly came throughout the day. Everyone complimented me and my family on how beautiful and personal the service was. But it was not over yet so I had to say my bit too at the crematorium. Bundling back into my Viv, I raced across town in order to try and beat the traffic in order to get to the venue first. I wanted to make sure that I was not going to be late and that I had plenty of time to maybe rehearse or even look over my notes. I could not get this wrong. I had one job and this was it. With my grandfather yet again being carried into the crematorium for the very last time again I walked in alone after my grandmother and cousins. This is not the last few weeks have been leading up to. As I was 'introduced' and took the stand I knew that this was the moment everybody had been waiting for. What was she going to say and was it going to be appropriate?
Song Lyrics? Nah. A Poem? Nope. An
extract from a book? No. I have wondered for weeks what would be a good way to
start this off but somehow ripping off someone else’s writing, no matter how
good it is just simply isn’t my style - Is it granddad?
What do I say? Truth be told, what does
anyone say? Sorry just seems a bit bland. Your not sorry. Neither am I. I had
some wonderful memories with my grandfather. I don't have anything to be
apologetic for yet everything to be grateful, thankful and appreciative of.
We had some great memories though didn’t we. Like that time after
your eye operation that you had to wear an eye patch. I told everyone at school
that your fought off a bear or that you are secretly a pirate. I
remember when, after a few weeks of being a one-eyed bandit, Me and Sean
thought it would be a good idea to cut out pictures of eyes from the magazines
and stick them on your patch. The real fun though came when we figured out that
heavily made up ladies eyes were much funnier!
Or how about the time that time when we had a birthday party and I thought it would be really funny to throw marbles out the
window with my friends to spook people. The frustrating thing is that it never
worked as they would always bounce off your soft grey afro hair!
Do you recall that moment when we were on holiday? The towels we
soaked from a day at the beach or the pool and we hung them on the back of the
sun-loungers to dry off. But it was all too much for the white plastic frame
for when you came along to take a seat the whole thing just gave way leaving
you mangled in a heap of plastic and soggy towels.
There was that moment that we went out for dinner at a quiet
French village. Dusk settling in and with the hilltop vineyards as our view it
was perfect. That was until the young waitress came along with our drinks,
tripped, and showered you with a mix of wine and fizzy pop. Oh lord your were
so mad, but I think looking back on it the faces you pulled and some of the
choice English phrases you told the poor lass only makes for a funnier memoir.
One of my favourite tales, and I am sure that this will become one
of yours too when I tell it is the time you visited Uncle Dave and Auntie
Bernie at their Irish country cottage. From all accounts Granddad was outside
coming in and on a stone floor with crutches and the dogs at his feet it was
difficult keeping his balance. I suppose in a way a big slobbery dog is the
last thing you want when trying to negotiate your way to the sofa and yet there
she was. But before my grandfather knew it the floor seemed to give way under
his crutches after placing them on what we thought was doggy dribble. In a
spectacular style and yelling to my Nanna all the way he fell over. For years
Granddad you thought it was dog slobber you slipped on. I am sorry to tell you
that it was not. It was a puddle of wee.
Over the years as I got older and grew from a sweet child into an independent women we shared in a stories and anecdotes about travelling the world or my sometimes eclectic dating life. I always loved hearing tales of the good old days where my grandparents were young and walking on the moon was a myth thought up by dreamers. I myself hoped that someday I would have something as special as what my grandparents had. A love to surpass all others, born out of a pure organic romance that all started because my Nanny Pumpkin was paid to come on a double date with a friend! What I want to know was how much were you paid, because you had something with granddad that is priceless and eternally lasting. All I can pray for is that one day I can reach your level of marriage where playful bickering and comedic arguments only ended when one of you laughed it off. Or muttered under your breath, which ever the other one couldn’t hear.
But for me personally
my fondest memory was the arduous task of him teaching me how to ride a bike.
All the cuts and the grazes, all the tears and tantrums. I cant remember how
many times I stomped my feet in a grump or walked off in a huff but my goodness
there was many. I hated him for it but Granddad would always make sure I came
back to my little pink bike with a basket up front, shiny new white tyres and
frilly tassels billowing out of the handlebars. He taught me the surest life
lesson that would see me through many a problem or difficulty, probably
making me the person that I am today. When you fall off your bike you should
always get back up and start riding again for the longer you leave it the
worse it becomes when you do. And that is what we have to remember here
today is that whilst it is hard and horrible to say goodbye, we need to pick
ourselves up and get peddling again. For this is not a goodbye but a mere see
you soon
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 15 January 2018
Comparing Meerkats!
Evening one and all,
So after last week's blog post I thought that I would have lost at least something after attending a few more sessions at my local gym and after following the weeks of personal training sessions it would appear that all the hard work is starting to pay off. More and more people are starting to notice that I have lost a bit of timber. In fact, at my weekly meeting on Thursday last week I was told by my personal trainer that I had lost nearly two stone in the last 8 weeks or so. Hard to think that I have had several social events, two holidays and even Christmas as well. I am so pleased with myself and whilst I am still in the size 18 category in most shops I am certain that I will not be there for long. Anyway on with the show ...
This weekend was going to be a game changer and something that would hopefully change the spending habits of Mr Warehouse and I, all in preparation for us to hopefully own our own home. Be it this year or next (and heaven forbid if it is any longer than that) I would like Mr Warehouse and I to be in a home that we own, at least in part anyway. I know that it is almost as a pipe dream thinking that I might be able to move in and buy a house by the end of the year, but the way I see it is that if I do not aim high I will not get anywhere, constantly frittering away money on nothing. Obviously, that all being said it was almost a pointless waste of time getting up early on Saturday morning.
Waking after a late night watching crap TV and listening to Mr Warehouse tap away on his Xbox, we were late and to make matters worse what woke me up was a phone call from the bank. Unfortunately for me they were calling to let me know that despite my 30-minute phone call earlier in the week with a customer service adviser at the Call Center, the information I gave regarding wanting an appointment to speak with an adviser about saving for our first home and potentially about getting a mortgage had not been passed on. Infuriated, I certainly did not have time to discuss the reasons as to the Call Center's fuck up. Angry and annoyed at the fact that I had not woken up on time and was now about to be late to our first appointment with a different bank for the same reasoning as before. Running out of time, I ended the call, threw on some clothes and slapped on some make-up and headed for the car.
On arriving to our first meeting with a mortgage adviser, nearly 25-minutes late, Mr Warehouse and I stood in the queue like total lemons waiting for someone to come and talk to us. Once the in-branch staff had finished dealing with all the other busy customers and they had and finally got on to seeing us, it was far too late to do anything and as a result we were turned away. I suppose in a way it was my fault and I should have made sure my alarm was set and whilst it is not a major problem in the grand old scheme of things it was certainly annoying to have not one but two appointments for through on the same day, one of which at least was out of our control.
With this, I thought that Mr Warehouse and I would probably find somewhere for a cheeky fry-up and maybe a spot of shopping. Nope! Following a march out into the street from the bank foyer, Mr Warehouse and I started to crack with each other. The niggles and snaps came thick and fast as we both understood each other's frustration at the mornings activities, or not as the case maybe. Feeling like the world was against us, not to mention each other, we headed home and kept ourselves to ourselves. I was angry that we had missed our appointment and Mr Warehouse was not accommodating in any which way with what he wanted to do after the morning activities had fallen through. Mr Warehouse was annoyed that I was annoyed about the banks miscommunication and ergo missing our other appointment. The most frustrating thing about being in a relationship with Mr Warehouse is the fact that he does not want to argue and refuses to have any confrontation whatsoever. Everyone enjoys a good bust-up right?
Sitting in silence as I scrolled through my phone whilst the Bae cleaning the kitchen I certainly felt guilty for taking it out on him when it was not really his fault. Obviously I am a woman and would never let on that I was never in the wrong. Nevertheless when the dog farted and broke the silence we couldn't help but look at each other and laugh. Following our unfortunate morning we headed out in the afternoon in order to go and play with some Meerkats.
I had bought Mr Warehouse a present of being a zoo-keeper for the day for his birthday in August last year, and including looking after all animals and cute ones, scary ones and creepy ones he opted instead to look after some Meerkats. Certainly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I would highly recommend the activity for anybody who enjoys animals and wildlife especially those with kids. Maybe not something about Mr Warehouse and I could take our smaller relative to due to the fact that they are either loud and rambunctious but also that my cousins are quite timid and are more like scaredy cats than Meerkats. A nice meal out courtesy of the whoever brought us the Nando's voucher for Christmas and a trip to the pub to watch the football on Sunday pretty much concluded our weekend. Suffice to say that it has probably been the most active of weekends since before Christmas I am certainly glad to be having things to look forward to instead of thinking about how far away our summer holiday is! Uhhh So Long!!!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So after last week's blog post I thought that I would have lost at least something after attending a few more sessions at my local gym and after following the weeks of personal training sessions it would appear that all the hard work is starting to pay off. More and more people are starting to notice that I have lost a bit of timber. In fact, at my weekly meeting on Thursday last week I was told by my personal trainer that I had lost nearly two stone in the last 8 weeks or so. Hard to think that I have had several social events, two holidays and even Christmas as well. I am so pleased with myself and whilst I am still in the size 18 category in most shops I am certain that I will not be there for long. Anyway on with the show ...
This weekend was going to be a game changer and something that would hopefully change the spending habits of Mr Warehouse and I, all in preparation for us to hopefully own our own home. Be it this year or next (and heaven forbid if it is any longer than that) I would like Mr Warehouse and I to be in a home that we own, at least in part anyway. I know that it is almost as a pipe dream thinking that I might be able to move in and buy a house by the end of the year, but the way I see it is that if I do not aim high I will not get anywhere, constantly frittering away money on nothing. Obviously, that all being said it was almost a pointless waste of time getting up early on Saturday morning.
Waking after a late night watching crap TV and listening to Mr Warehouse tap away on his Xbox, we were late and to make matters worse what woke me up was a phone call from the bank. Unfortunately for me they were calling to let me know that despite my 30-minute phone call earlier in the week with a customer service adviser at the Call Center, the information I gave regarding wanting an appointment to speak with an adviser about saving for our first home and potentially about getting a mortgage had not been passed on. Infuriated, I certainly did not have time to discuss the reasons as to the Call Center's fuck up. Angry and annoyed at the fact that I had not woken up on time and was now about to be late to our first appointment with a different bank for the same reasoning as before. Running out of time, I ended the call, threw on some clothes and slapped on some make-up and headed for the car.
On arriving to our first meeting with a mortgage adviser, nearly 25-minutes late, Mr Warehouse and I stood in the queue like total lemons waiting for someone to come and talk to us. Once the in-branch staff had finished dealing with all the other busy customers and they had and finally got on to seeing us, it was far too late to do anything and as a result we were turned away. I suppose in a way it was my fault and I should have made sure my alarm was set and whilst it is not a major problem in the grand old scheme of things it was certainly annoying to have not one but two appointments for through on the same day, one of which at least was out of our control.
With this, I thought that Mr Warehouse and I would probably find somewhere for a cheeky fry-up and maybe a spot of shopping. Nope! Following a march out into the street from the bank foyer, Mr Warehouse and I started to crack with each other. The niggles and snaps came thick and fast as we both understood each other's frustration at the mornings activities, or not as the case maybe. Feeling like the world was against us, not to mention each other, we headed home and kept ourselves to ourselves. I was angry that we had missed our appointment and Mr Warehouse was not accommodating in any which way with what he wanted to do after the morning activities had fallen through. Mr Warehouse was annoyed that I was annoyed about the banks miscommunication and ergo missing our other appointment. The most frustrating thing about being in a relationship with Mr Warehouse is the fact that he does not want to argue and refuses to have any confrontation whatsoever. Everyone enjoys a good bust-up right?
Sitting in silence as I scrolled through my phone whilst the Bae cleaning the kitchen I certainly felt guilty for taking it out on him when it was not really his fault. Obviously I am a woman and would never let on that I was never in the wrong. Nevertheless when the dog farted and broke the silence we couldn't help but look at each other and laugh. Following our unfortunate morning we headed out in the afternoon in order to go and play with some Meerkats.
I had bought Mr Warehouse a present of being a zoo-keeper for the day for his birthday in August last year, and including looking after all animals and cute ones, scary ones and creepy ones he opted instead to look after some Meerkats. Certainly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I would highly recommend the activity for anybody who enjoys animals and wildlife especially those with kids. Maybe not something about Mr Warehouse and I could take our smaller relative to due to the fact that they are either loud and rambunctious but also that my cousins are quite timid and are more like scaredy cats than Meerkats. A nice meal out courtesy of the whoever brought us the Nando's voucher for Christmas and a trip to the pub to watch the football on Sunday pretty much concluded our weekend. Suffice to say that it has probably been the most active of weekends since before Christmas I am certainly glad to be having things to look forward to instead of thinking about how far away our summer holiday is! Uhhh So Long!!!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 22 August 2016
The Tapas Weekender!
Hello,
Looking at the small pile of presents I had accumulated over the last few weeks, I didn't think it was enough. After all it was Mr. Warehouse's birthday and whilst he hadn't asked for much or hinted at many items on his wish list, I still struggled with the little amount I did get him. In the knowledge that I wanted him to be surprised on the morning of his Birthday, I quickly hopped on Amazon and ordered a rather expensive last-minute, next-day-delivery gift. Fully able to flip in all 4 directions it is well fitted for outdoors flying. Having a flight time of about 7 minutes it has a built in camera and comes with built in guards to protect them from damage. Not something on Mr. Warehouse's wish list but something I know he would enjoy. It arrived Wednesday Morning as planned and I looked forward to the little face that would be opening it the following morning. Quickly I wrapped it up as soon as I got home and prepared for the following mornings unveiling.
Opening his presents the following morning, Mr. Warehouse was delighted with his gifts - A plastic Spiderman bowl (because he broke the ceramic one that he won in Newquay's Seaside Arcades), a leather wallet, phone case, and a 3D-VR Virtual Reality Headset, as well as the drone of course. I also had booked a table for dinner and both of us looked forward to something a bit different: A nine-course Argentinian Steak BBQ Meal. Mmm ...
And following a long and drawn out day at work I was glad to be not cooking for once. I would say that the meal itself was lovely, juice lamb racks, succulent steaks and tender chicken graced our plates along with lashings of salad, olives and halloumi, all washed down with a nice glass of wine. I was surprised at the end of the meal when the women whom has been serving us brought out a plate of towering chocolate covered profitoroles and proceeded to sing "Happy Birthday" to us in the broken English she had. As sweet as it was, for me it is not the first place that I want to go for dinner, especially in Bedford, nevertheless, Mr. Warehouse seemed to thoroughly enjoy himself and the meal which ended a wonderful birthay for him and I to share together.
As Friday approached I began to look forward to the weekend and after last week trying to meet up with my Dad to talk things over after our argument a few months ago, we finally made a date and met for breakfast on Saturday morning at a nice hotel by the river in Bedford. I think that we covered alot of ground that needed covering and in all fairness whilst we agreed on many points there were also times where I felt he was out of order. Overall though I am really glad we have had it out and whilst we didn't cover everything in depth, we both know now what we expect and want from each other and our relationship as Father and Daughter. I am now looking forward to seeing real change that we will all be happy with.
After Breakfast was done we left and Dad was kind enough to collect the Doggy and Mr. Warehouse (he had been working an overtime shift just to earn some extra money for my birthday gifts - Sweet isn't he!) and dropped us all into Marston Mortaine for another weekend with Momma Warehouse, the new boyfriend and the White-Chocolate-Eating Toy Poodle. After popping to the local shops for some provisions, Mr. Warehouse and I made our way round to his Brother's house to share in some drinks and a takeaway to celebrate him turning Twenty-Four! Enjoying the company we soon returned back to his family home where we were in bed and asleep by ten!
Sunday was a busy day though so with little or no capability for a lay-in Mr. Warehouse and I were up and ready to get the bus back home where I would have just enough time to change my top before heading back out for a driving lesson. Getting better on each two-hour-sesh I still am ropey when it comes to junctions and controls, but I am really anxious to take my test, although I am anticipating that I will not pass first time. Finishing my lesson however I made my way back to my Hometown of Houghton Regis as I was invited to celebrate Miss Tweedle-Dumb's parents Twenty-Fifth wedding anniversary. Although when I walked in at five-to-six both Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee appear shocked that I had arrived not just on time but also very slightly early, and in comparison to some guests who hadn't even turned up for the surprise celebrations. Saying nothing we enjoyed each others company and I admired how a couple who had been through some up's and down's over the last quarter-century still came out strongly untied in holy matrimony. Enjoying the evening I was frustrated that I couldn't drive yet as usual it took me well over an hour to get back home, by the time of which Mr. Warehouse was already in bed.
And so comes to an end another weekend. Upcoming is the August Bank Holiday in the UK so hopefully will be making the most of it and maybe even viewing some cars!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Looking at the small pile of presents I had accumulated over the last few weeks, I didn't think it was enough. After all it was Mr. Warehouse's birthday and whilst he hadn't asked for much or hinted at many items on his wish list, I still struggled with the little amount I did get him. In the knowledge that I wanted him to be surprised on the morning of his Birthday, I quickly hopped on Amazon and ordered a rather expensive last-minute, next-day-delivery gift. Fully able to flip in all 4 directions it is well fitted for outdoors flying. Having a flight time of about 7 minutes it has a built in camera and comes with built in guards to protect them from damage. Not something on Mr. Warehouse's wish list but something I know he would enjoy. It arrived Wednesday Morning as planned and I looked forward to the little face that would be opening it the following morning. Quickly I wrapped it up as soon as I got home and prepared for the following mornings unveiling.
Opening his presents the following morning, Mr. Warehouse was delighted with his gifts - A plastic Spiderman bowl (because he broke the ceramic one that he won in Newquay's Seaside Arcades), a leather wallet, phone case, and a 3D-VR Virtual Reality Headset, as well as the drone of course. I also had booked a table for dinner and both of us looked forward to something a bit different: A nine-course Argentinian Steak BBQ Meal. Mmm ...
And following a long and drawn out day at work I was glad to be not cooking for once. I would say that the meal itself was lovely, juice lamb racks, succulent steaks and tender chicken graced our plates along with lashings of salad, olives and halloumi, all washed down with a nice glass of wine. I was surprised at the end of the meal when the women whom has been serving us brought out a plate of towering chocolate covered profitoroles and proceeded to sing "Happy Birthday" to us in the broken English she had. As sweet as it was, for me it is not the first place that I want to go for dinner, especially in Bedford, nevertheless, Mr. Warehouse seemed to thoroughly enjoy himself and the meal which ended a wonderful birthay for him and I to share together.
As Friday approached I began to look forward to the weekend and after last week trying to meet up with my Dad to talk things over after our argument a few months ago, we finally made a date and met for breakfast on Saturday morning at a nice hotel by the river in Bedford. I think that we covered alot of ground that needed covering and in all fairness whilst we agreed on many points there were also times where I felt he was out of order. Overall though I am really glad we have had it out and whilst we didn't cover everything in depth, we both know now what we expect and want from each other and our relationship as Father and Daughter. I am now looking forward to seeing real change that we will all be happy with.
After Breakfast was done we left and Dad was kind enough to collect the Doggy and Mr. Warehouse (he had been working an overtime shift just to earn some extra money for my birthday gifts - Sweet isn't he!) and dropped us all into Marston Mortaine for another weekend with Momma Warehouse, the new boyfriend and the White-Chocolate-Eating Toy Poodle. After popping to the local shops for some provisions, Mr. Warehouse and I made our way round to his Brother's house to share in some drinks and a takeaway to celebrate him turning Twenty-Four! Enjoying the company we soon returned back to his family home where we were in bed and asleep by ten!
Sunday was a busy day though so with little or no capability for a lay-in Mr. Warehouse and I were up and ready to get the bus back home where I would have just enough time to change my top before heading back out for a driving lesson. Getting better on each two-hour-sesh I still am ropey when it comes to junctions and controls, but I am really anxious to take my test, although I am anticipating that I will not pass first time. Finishing my lesson however I made my way back to my Hometown of Houghton Regis as I was invited to celebrate Miss Tweedle-Dumb's parents Twenty-Fifth wedding anniversary. Although when I walked in at five-to-six both Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee appear shocked that I had arrived not just on time but also very slightly early, and in comparison to some guests who hadn't even turned up for the surprise celebrations. Saying nothing we enjoyed each others company and I admired how a couple who had been through some up's and down's over the last quarter-century still came out strongly untied in holy matrimony. Enjoying the evening I was frustrated that I couldn't drive yet as usual it took me well over an hour to get back home, by the time of which Mr. Warehouse was already in bed.
And so comes to an end another weekend. Upcoming is the August Bank Holiday in the UK so hopefully will be making the most of it and maybe even viewing some cars!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 11 July 2016
Welcome To My Inate Fear Of Children ...
Hello,
And so I am home, back in Blightly where it has rained at least once a day for every day I have been back. But lets start from the beginning shall we. The evening following the Chinese calamity, The Tweedles and I headed to somewhere a bit fancier for dinner, and this time I got some change. After spending the following remainder of the holiday frolicking by the pool, enjoying long beach tanning sessions and trying in vain to haggle for a faux handbag I was starting to feel the lull that is missing home. I did not realise this at first but I soon thought how nice it will be to get back to reality, back to my desk and back to the dog. Oh and Mr. Warehouse of course. Whilst I was missing the creature comforts of my little one-bed, there are many other things that come from a holiday abroad with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb, majority of them good.
You can almost certainly predict that along with the holiday staples of a night out getting pissed somewhere, bugs, a market day trip and boating excursions, there will also be arguments. Sometimes its about how grey the McDonalds is, sometimes its about who wouldn't come and look at a handbag with me or sometimes it was over the floor in the bathroom being wet. Either way I thought I had managed to have a holiday without the raised voices and hours of stubborn silences, that was until we left to catch the transfer bus. Of course I say we in the loosest of terms as I was not part of said 'we' since Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb headed to the transfer bus without me, not saying anything at all. After a few heated words and some attempts at making good of the situation in hand we arrived at the airport and boarded our very, very late flight home. Obviously I am over it now and I am sure, as with most of our arguments, we can laugh about them later in life.
Arriving home at three-thirty in the morning and trundling down the path to the flat, trying to be quiet but my cases were making as much noise as they could against the cemented gravel. I soon heard a familiar growl, deep and menacing. It was my darling pooch; Well, half adopted-mine anyway. At least I could say that if there was an intruder then she was doing her job, guarding her home and mine. Coming through the house, making as little commotion as possible not to wake Mr. Warehouse I gave a big cuddle to the dog and climbed into bed besides my boyfriend. The following morning (or maybe just a few hours later) I awoke briefly with a kiss on my forehead as Mr. Warehouse headed out to work with promises of seeing each other that evening.
"Remember you have a driving lesson at ten" Mr. Warehouse said as he headed out the door. Rolling over I muttered something of a goodbye and fell into a deep sleep.
Phone blaring I went to turn off my alarm in the next room, only to hear a voice as I turned back towards the bedroom. It was my driving instructor. 'Fuuuuuuuuuuuu' I thought. Answering back to the familiar voice I lied about not forgetting, throwing on some clothes and heading out to the awaiting vehicle. The lessons? They're going well. I have finished learning most things now, including a three-point-turn, parellel parking and reversing round a corner. I can now after my last lesson on Friday morning add into the mix learning what and how to do an emergancy stop. They are kinda exhilerating and fun, but I am almost certain that given a situation in real life whereby it would need to be used I wouldn't feel so "pumped" afterwards.
Enjoying my day off Mr. Warehouse soon returned home and we talked of my holiday and how even still, my phone is not fixed. If anything it has got worse. Since last weeks post, not only does it shut down, restart and freeze automatically it also conducts a full factory reset without authorisation which, in turn, deletes everything in its path - Music, contacts, Apps and holiday photos. All. Gone. So as Mr. Warehouse and I discussed our plans for the weekend we decided we would go and visit Momma Warehouse and the new edition to their family. Mr. Warehouse's newest nephew was a week old and had been born whilst I was away holidaying it up and drinking cocktails by the beach.
So after a whole day of waiting and hearing back about how Samsung were going to fix my beloved Samsung Galaxy Note4, we headed back to Marston Mortaine, Starbucks and Krispy Kreme in hand. The following day had been dedicated to seeing the newborn baby boy. Would this one day be my nephew rather than just Mr. Warehouse's? I don't know but with Mr. Warehouse in the knowledge already with how unpractised I am around children he relayed this through to his mother on the walk over, explaining in detail the physical restrictions I go through whilst in the presence of a young human.
I don't know what is wrong with me. My family never really had babies around as my brother was the youngest for a long while and when my cousins were born I wasn't really around a huge amount when they were tiny, tiny. All I need is the gurgle or a creak of a babies cry and I am on edge. I think it is the fact that they could cry at any moment. And they're only a baby so they can't tell you whats wrong. I mean you wouldn't get a week-old-child saying "Excuse me mother but my bottom is wet and I am afraid I may have shit myself. I will require either yourself or some other poor soul ro empty this sack of mine and replace with a fresh one, and none of this leaving me to roll around waiting for you to get your crap together, organise the nappy-station before commencement of operation poopy-nappy." It will just cry. And cry. And cry. And cry. Nothing will console the child. Mr. Warehouse and other more experianced personel tell me that I should approach a crying babe as a matter of elimination in four simple steps.
1. Is it wet/squishy-bottomed: If yes - Change its bum. If no - Move to question 2.
2. Is it hungry: If yes - Feed it. If no - Move to question 3.
3. Is it sad or upset: If yes - Cuddle it. If no - Move to question 4.
4. Is it tired: If yes - Cuddle it and try to put it to sleep. If no - Start process again.
Sounds simple but in reality would it really work? Truth be told, I don't know as when presented with said newborn it was asleep and continued to be throughout the duration of our encounter. I was completely rigid until the moment it was out of my arms. I think I need to work on my relaxation around babies. They're like horses right; They can smell fear? I was certainly fearful but whilst I looked after this tiny, tiny baby in my arms, sleeping soundly, I did think about my life. I am now of an age where drinking so heavily that you end up outside a nightclub, hair a mess, missing one shoe and throwing up into an ashtray is unacceptable behaviour. Equally though whilst I reluctantly need to accept that my late-teens and early-twenties days of drinking the weekend away in a blind haze of Jagerbombs and Sambuca shots, I don't know if I am fully ready for settling down and starting to build the foundations of a future family life. Not going to lie though, I knew as I looked into Mr. Warehouse's eyes as he held his new nephew the he was getting broody and suddenly it wasn't me who was watching their fertility-watch. Not going to lie though, I did enjoy the cuddles.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
And so I am home, back in Blightly where it has rained at least once a day for every day I have been back. But lets start from the beginning shall we. The evening following the Chinese calamity, The Tweedles and I headed to somewhere a bit fancier for dinner, and this time I got some change. After spending the following remainder of the holiday frolicking by the pool, enjoying long beach tanning sessions and trying in vain to haggle for a faux handbag I was starting to feel the lull that is missing home. I did not realise this at first but I soon thought how nice it will be to get back to reality, back to my desk and back to the dog. Oh and Mr. Warehouse of course. Whilst I was missing the creature comforts of my little one-bed, there are many other things that come from a holiday abroad with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb, majority of them good.
You can almost certainly predict that along with the holiday staples of a night out getting pissed somewhere, bugs, a market day trip and boating excursions, there will also be arguments. Sometimes its about how grey the McDonalds is, sometimes its about who wouldn't come and look at a handbag with me or sometimes it was over the floor in the bathroom being wet. Either way I thought I had managed to have a holiday without the raised voices and hours of stubborn silences, that was until we left to catch the transfer bus. Of course I say we in the loosest of terms as I was not part of said 'we' since Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb headed to the transfer bus without me, not saying anything at all. After a few heated words and some attempts at making good of the situation in hand we arrived at the airport and boarded our very, very late flight home. Obviously I am over it now and I am sure, as with most of our arguments, we can laugh about them later in life.
Arriving home at three-thirty in the morning and trundling down the path to the flat, trying to be quiet but my cases were making as much noise as they could against the cemented gravel. I soon heard a familiar growl, deep and menacing. It was my darling pooch; Well, half adopted-mine anyway. At least I could say that if there was an intruder then she was doing her job, guarding her home and mine. Coming through the house, making as little commotion as possible not to wake Mr. Warehouse I gave a big cuddle to the dog and climbed into bed besides my boyfriend. The following morning (or maybe just a few hours later) I awoke briefly with a kiss on my forehead as Mr. Warehouse headed out to work with promises of seeing each other that evening.
"Remember you have a driving lesson at ten" Mr. Warehouse said as he headed out the door. Rolling over I muttered something of a goodbye and fell into a deep sleep.
Phone blaring I went to turn off my alarm in the next room, only to hear a voice as I turned back towards the bedroom. It was my driving instructor. 'Fuuuuuuuuuuuu' I thought. Answering back to the familiar voice I lied about not forgetting, throwing on some clothes and heading out to the awaiting vehicle. The lessons? They're going well. I have finished learning most things now, including a three-point-turn, parellel parking and reversing round a corner. I can now after my last lesson on Friday morning add into the mix learning what and how to do an emergancy stop. They are kinda exhilerating and fun, but I am almost certain that given a situation in real life whereby it would need to be used I wouldn't feel so "pumped" afterwards.
Enjoying my day off Mr. Warehouse soon returned home and we talked of my holiday and how even still, my phone is not fixed. If anything it has got worse. Since last weeks post, not only does it shut down, restart and freeze automatically it also conducts a full factory reset without authorisation which, in turn, deletes everything in its path - Music, contacts, Apps and holiday photos. All. Gone. So as Mr. Warehouse and I discussed our plans for the weekend we decided we would go and visit Momma Warehouse and the new edition to their family. Mr. Warehouse's newest nephew was a week old and had been born whilst I was away holidaying it up and drinking cocktails by the beach.
So after a whole day of waiting and hearing back about how Samsung were going to fix my beloved Samsung Galaxy Note4, we headed back to Marston Mortaine, Starbucks and Krispy Kreme in hand. The following day had been dedicated to seeing the newborn baby boy. Would this one day be my nephew rather than just Mr. Warehouse's? I don't know but with Mr. Warehouse in the knowledge already with how unpractised I am around children he relayed this through to his mother on the walk over, explaining in detail the physical restrictions I go through whilst in the presence of a young human.
I don't know what is wrong with me. My family never really had babies around as my brother was the youngest for a long while and when my cousins were born I wasn't really around a huge amount when they were tiny, tiny. All I need is the gurgle or a creak of a babies cry and I am on edge. I think it is the fact that they could cry at any moment. And they're only a baby so they can't tell you whats wrong. I mean you wouldn't get a week-old-child saying "Excuse me mother but my bottom is wet and I am afraid I may have shit myself. I will require either yourself or some other poor soul ro empty this sack of mine and replace with a fresh one, and none of this leaving me to roll around waiting for you to get your crap together, organise the nappy-station before commencement of operation poopy-nappy." It will just cry. And cry. And cry. And cry. Nothing will console the child. Mr. Warehouse and other more experianced personel tell me that I should approach a crying babe as a matter of elimination in four simple steps.
1. Is it wet/squishy-bottomed: If yes - Change its bum. If no - Move to question 2.
2. Is it hungry: If yes - Feed it. If no - Move to question 3.
3. Is it sad or upset: If yes - Cuddle it. If no - Move to question 4.
4. Is it tired: If yes - Cuddle it and try to put it to sleep. If no - Start process again.
Sounds simple but in reality would it really work? Truth be told, I don't know as when presented with said newborn it was asleep and continued to be throughout the duration of our encounter. I was completely rigid until the moment it was out of my arms. I think I need to work on my relaxation around babies. They're like horses right; They can smell fear? I was certainly fearful but whilst I looked after this tiny, tiny baby in my arms, sleeping soundly, I did think about my life. I am now of an age where drinking so heavily that you end up outside a nightclub, hair a mess, missing one shoe and throwing up into an ashtray is unacceptable behaviour. Equally though whilst I reluctantly need to accept that my late-teens and early-twenties days of drinking the weekend away in a blind haze of Jagerbombs and Sambuca shots, I don't know if I am fully ready for settling down and starting to build the foundations of a future family life. Not going to lie though, I knew as I looked into Mr. Warehouse's eyes as he held his new nephew the he was getting broody and suddenly it wasn't me who was watching their fertility-watch. Not going to lie though, I did enjoy the cuddles.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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