What happens on Stag ...

Afternoon All, 

Last weekend I indulged in a relaxing weekend of spa's, supper, and shots, but now it was the Stag's turn. Talk was established early on, as it normally is about the stag do and hen do, and Mr. Warehouse and I were no exception. The future Hubby has never really been the centre of attention and so having him being the limelight was his idea of his worst nightmare. So when his older brother (who gets hitched just four weeks before we do) suggested a joint one. Considering that they would have literally been inviting all the same friends and family, it made sense. It also meant the pressure was off of one brother or the other and hopefully would be distributed evenly the pranks and stitch-ups.

And so the moment soon came round as Mr. Warehouse packed up his suitcase with fresh creps and clobber. I was pleased we had even just reached this stage of wedding planning to the point he can enjoy his stag do. It meant that we were a little closer to our special day. Sadly though the relaxing nature of our girls away weekend the week before would not necessarily be happening as there was plenty of DIYs and wedding stationery that needed doing.

I can't lie though, I was a little anxious about my fiance heading off for a boys weekend jam-packed with activities. A typical stag-do of course meant a trip to a strip joint or gentleman's club, of which there is actually a difference (Mr Warehouse explained it as plainly as a strip joint is just that whereas a gentleman's club you can pay for "extras"), still not making me feel any easier about the plans. But I didn't want him to worry or think I was being a psycho bitch of a future wifey, so I tried in-vain to play it cool.

A BuzzFeed article written by an American called James details it perfectly, and most of it seems odd to him and he's a yank. Aside's from the obvious it was quite a good read, but I feel as though some things were just not touched upon. The dressing up - OK yeah I get it. The pranks, dare's and rowdy drunken behaviour - Fair enough. But I don't think it told the whole story of what actually happens on a stag do's. Cosmo to the rescue! The article from the popular women's magazine details that just the mentioning of the words 'stag weekend' and brides to be are filled with fear. But it's not just the girls about to tie the knot who worry – it's any girl whose man is set to disappear for the weekend to celebrate their mate's last night of freedom.

One brave guy, unnamed in the article detailed how he ended up going to a strip club. "I don't know the reason behind why we went, but I guess it's what most stag dos end up doing. Unless the stag is a doctor, it'll be the last time he'll see a woman – other than his wife to be naked." Claiming that not a lot actually happened when in the strip club (a likely story I think not young sir!) the mystery man concluded simply by confirming what women already know; That most men are lazy stating that the "lap dancers spoke to us, trying to get us to have a private dance but I just think guys like going because they know that girls will flirt with them and they don't have to try even though they know the girls are only doing it for the money."

I don't mind Mr. Warehouse going to strip clubs or seeing boobs or fannies. but what I draw a line at is being unfaithful. I suppose for me, in my heart of hearts I knew my other half would never do anything like that, it still didn't stop me from wondering or having thoughts about what would happen if he did and what life would be like in the aftermath. Even despite me being very secure in my relationship and not the needy, insecure, or self-conscience type that (usually because of poor treatment from other men and relationships) needs the constant reassurance and compliments of their partner, I still had a wobble and a few times had to check in to know we're OK as a couple - And maybe to remind my Beau of how good he has it here!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

Suits you Sir!

Heyy Ya'll, 

As with last week, here I am again writing to you from my chain-hotel room in Welwyn Garden City and after completing my first week as an Operations Manager I am back and kicking ass. Nerves now well and truly behind me, I am really getting my teeth stuck into the role with many of my different ideas and implementations already being rolled out and put into action. There is so much to unpack and unpick that I have found myself contemplating the move but I am determined to sort this out and turn this into the blossoming business it once was. 

After working away all week though I was certainly very pleased to get home, something I never thought I would feel, but thundering up the motorway, foot to the floor I was eager to get home and see everyone, dogs and future husband included. Letting myself through the door, first, one to greet me was the youngest, my two-year-old Jackapoo, who after a little barking at the intruder soon realized it was me and was overcome with joy so much so he piddled. 

Next was our eldest who after shuffling her way through from the living room was more than happy to see me, something that is not common for her. Unfortunately, she had been poorly in the week since I had been away. On Day 2 of me being away when Mr. Warehouse returned from work to find a pool of blood (and "contents"), he was concerned, to say the least. With minimal sleep and a poorly dog on his hands, he wasn't sure what to do other than bundle her into the back of his tiny tin-can of a car and take her to the Vets. It was unclear if she had been sick and vomited up blood also, a thought process of ours since she had been coughing and making noises akin to having a hairball for the last few days, although more likely to have come from the "other end". Confirming it was just a simple tummy bug, the pooch was shipped off back home with some antibiotics and instructions to rest easy. 

And finally, there he was, my big bear. Mr. Warehouse wrapped his arms around me like he had not done so in a while, telling me how much he missed me and that I can't ever leave again. In a joking way, not in like a domestic violence way. Just thought I should point that out. Anyway, After eating out of a hotel room with basic provisions and takeaways all week all I craved was a home-cooked meal and so we did what we do best, made dinner together. Before I knew it I was back in my spot cuddling into the comfiness of the armchair and scoffing a cookie dough ice cream from the local dessert man. This is where I have wanted to be. 

As Saturday morning burst through the blinds it was time to start the day, and first on the agenda was a suit fitting for my father. After scoping out a couple of places a few weekends back with my future brother and sister-in-law, the boys had settled on a small independent formal hire place in Leighton Buzzard. Entering the premises we didn't really know what to expect, however, the previous experience of a high street suit shop located within a busy shopping mall had not thrilled us as there was nothing to try on and the lads weren't feeling the love when it comes to our pre-booked appointment. 

So when all four of us walked into the establishment, taking note of the high ceilings, bespoke garments, and glistening crystal chandeliers I was more impressed with the offerings. Within minutes the two brothers were undressed and in cubicles, suited and booted staff running rings around us, flying off to find a bigger shirt or whizzing in with a smaller jacket, swapping out one waistcoat for another or knotting up a matching tie and pocket square. I was blown away. This was something I was more used to as a bride in a bridal appointment with sashes and sleeves and veils being thrown around left, right, and center. 

But I was glad of it. It showed willingness and eagerness to please, making sure that nothing was too much trouble and anything and everything was possible. Even fitting my father with a huge gut and a determination for wearing his damned kilt was not a bother for them. Every question we asked was a yes and encouraging Mr. Warehouse especially to feel confident in what he was wearing. I was certain this was the place to hire the suits from and the brothers agreed. Paying deposits and with promises of further fittings and appointments to measure up, we booked them in. I was just so glad and happy that my groom got just a special treatment as I did in being a bride. I just cant wait for the big day now ...

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

The Best Christmas Gift of All is Family

Evening one and all, 

2020! Here. It. Is. Finally, the countdown can really begin to our wedding day! Eeek! But first I feel I need to explain as this is not only my first writing of the new decade, but also that it has been some time. Apologies as Christmas and New Years really did take over a little and I went from manic at my desk to my day job being catching up on crap telly and being Mr Warehouse's chauffeur to and from work (Unfortunately he had to work between the Christmas/New Year slump whilst I got it off). That being said I was glad of the break. 

Christmas went well. Or at least as well as to be expected. The evening before, Christmas Eve, was spent with Miss Tweedle-Dee eating fine food and drinking over-priced red wine. I had hoped that maybe Mr and Mrs Tweedle-Dumb would have been over before this point that they could have shared however this was not the case and at that precise moment were probably boarding said plane from L.A. to make the long journey back home. Nevertheless, Mr Warehouse and I were spoilt with gifts of chocolate and smellies and other treats, but the best thing was the experience vouchers she bought for us; Mr Warehouse's was an "Escape Room" experience to test our teamwork and nerves, and mine was a "Pig Petting Day". Looking on the website, Kew Little Pigs, I can tell already this is right up my street and I am ecstatic Miss Tweedle-Dee bought it for me! 

The website describes the Piggy Pet and Playday as a chance to meet a bunch of lovable new friends at Kew Little Pigs. "Discover a piggy paradise inside the petting pen for an hour and a half of fun, where you’ll meet the pigs by name, pet and play with them, and give them a good groom. The miniature pigs come in all shapes and sizes, each with their own unique personality, so guaranteed you’ll meet some real characters. Selfie seekers are always welcome, as the pigs love the spotlight and know exactly how to strike a pose!" Heading home I slipped into some new Pyjama's and desperately tried to stay awake to watch Elf - Our family Christmas movie, but with everyone cuddled up on the sofa, I could barely keep my eyes open. Heading to bed I snuggled into my plush Teddy Bear duvet set and drifted off to sleep. 

Christmas Day started well, gifts and presents from Mr Warehouse and I to our beloved animals, Frankenstein not quite understanding what was going on and our older one knowing exactly what was happening and where all the treats were! Mr Warehouse had bought some beautiful jewellery sets, earrings and necklaces as well as many a bath bomb (forever on my Christmas and Birthday Wish lists) as well as some more practical items such as salt and pepper shakers and make-up removal pads. Although I cannot be surprised when we did the Poundland Christmas Challenge. You take £10.00, visit your local Poundland (or discount retailer) and attempt to fill a stocking, in this instance for our better halves. It was such fun when doing it the weekend before Christmas, running around and hiding from each other whilst trying to sneakily hide so as not to get caught. What did I get Mr Warehouse you ask? Well, I thought that the replacement Stanley knife blades (mainly for his work), giant gummy cola bottle and water bottle all went down well as odd but appreciated presents. I think even when we have children, a big house and money is tight, I would like to always have this as our little thing we do every year. 

Following our fun, we packed up the car and headed over to my (future) brother-and-sister-in-laws house for presents with the kids, one niece and two nephews! Just as we finished unwrapping their generous gifts of more chocolate, alcohol and smellies Mr Warehouse's older brother and his wife arrived with their son and we continued the festivities until lunch. making a move we promised to see them again tomorrow and made our way to Nanny Pumpkins where the whole family was waiting for us. My Uncle from Ireland was over and so was my other uncle which was nice and my cousins were hyper full of chocolate and sugar no doubt being Christmas. Dad was on Dinner duties and Nanny was relaxing with my Auntie and a glass (or two) nattering away. Coming into the chaos I was glad to have made the decision I had to be involved this year as I was not in the best place last year. 

Just before we sat down to the feast we handed out our gifts and took receipt of mine and Mr Warehouse's appreciatively including a Chocolate Afternoon Tea experience, a meal out voucher, books, gaming gear (For the fiance) and other goodies. I noted though that Dad was quiet. After a difficult year for both of us and without going into too much detail, I wondered if I would have ever spent a Christmas with him again. I saw he was getting emotional and I knew what gift had put him there. I had thought many weeks ago about what final present I could get him when I came up with a good idea for a photo book containing as many pictures and photos of myself and my brother as possible. I knew it would cause some emotion to stir up and assumed that he would know what it was as soon as he opened it and just shuffle it away, but he didn't. He opened it and with that opened himself and started to weep in front of the family, something he was not able to do easily. I knew it was a good gift and wiping away the tears, his look told me that too.

Following dinner and pudding and games, people started to drift home, although not wanting to Mary Celeste my Nanny completely Mr Warehouse, the doggo's and I stayed for a little, chatting softly to my Nan as my Uncle dozed in the next room. It was at that point that I completely forgot about our present from our Wedding Photographer - Sophie Ann! A few days ago we had received a really sweet Christmas card from her, explaining that this was indeed my last Christmas as a Miss and that she looked forward to working with us in the new year. In there also was a raffle ticket that won a special Christmas present! We were number 37. But wait where was the raffle ticket. I panicked. Did it get thrown our with the wrapping paper rubbish? Was it tossed away? Oh god no! Searching I found it in the bottom of a gift bag and proceeded to Social Media to hunt for the big reveal. There it was for all to see. Selected number? 37! WE WON! Mr Warehouse had won a free engagement photo shoot and a chance to meet our photographer and chat before the big day. Uhhh what a weight off our mind! This truly had been one of the best Christmases in a while. No one argued, No one fought, No one drank too much. A classy Christmas all round. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

More Missing Minutes of a Different Kind

Hello, 

So it's got to that point of the year again where I am constantly bombarded by people telling me about their holidays or their upcoming beach bargain breaks. To say that I am jealous would be a major understatement. Tenerife, Majorca, Lanzarote and Bulgaria the list goes on. I know in my heart of hearts that the four-hundred quid sat in my savings account should really be used towards our house fund, deposit or redecorating and not a holiday. Ugggh but its so hard! When everyone else is choosing which flip-flops to pack or which bikini will go with which Snapchat filter, here I am trying to work out how many stick-on tiles I can buy for under a tenner to do the kitchen and why Ronseal is so expensive. And after the last few weeks of collecting bits and pieces for the house and redecorating I was ready to start. No Weddings. No Funerals. Well, nearly ... 

Relaxing on a Friday evening, I was having one of those rare moments to myself. Mr. Warehouse had gone to visit his brother in a small village outside of Bedford after work and was staying there to play a few games of pool before coming home. I didn't think anything of the phone call I've picked up whilst putting the TV on pause. I expected some sorry reason as to why he was going to be late home or maybe even the fact that he wanted me to picking up as he had been drinking. No. None of the above. The words 'Don't Panic' are never a good phrase to start off with when you ride a motorbike and were expected home ten minutes ago. To be honest I had been awaiting this moment for a while now. I thought that I would have been much more in a panic or a bit of a flap about it all, but an odd sense of calm came over me and I just thought "Oh for goodness sake what have you done now?"

After leaving his brothers around about 7.30pm and with plenty of time to get home before it was dark, Mr Warehouse whizzed off down the road from Village to Village as he normally did and had done many a time before. Only this time was different. Coming round a bend and over a humped railway bridge, Mr. Warehouse lost control of the motorbike beneath him, skidding and crashing into a road sign. Successfully taking that out my boyfriend flew for a further twenty or thirty meters before hitting a tree. Knocked unconscious, Mr. Warehouse only came round when he heard the sound of a cars engine, a door slamming shut and a women running towards him, asking if he was OK. "No love, just thought I would have a little nap face down in a pile of stinging nettles with my bike on its side and still running" was what my gorgeous boy wanted to tell her, but Mr. Warehouse said to me that he just thanked her for her time and for stopping, but said that he would be OK in a few moments and not to call for anyone. 

Accepting by this point that he was on his feet and seemingly talking OK, the woman left the scene in a rush to wherever she was heading. About five minutes later I received the dreaded phone call. I knew that it was Mr Warehouse as soon as he spoke and this relieved me a little bit that he was clearly well enough to talk and it wasn't a police officer or paramedic. I think I would have freaked more. Calmly and as collectively as possible I continued to keep him talking asking all manner of questions about what had happened and where he was in relation to his surroundings. But being a typical man he brushed it all off, dusted himself down, got back on the bike and drove home. 

After the phone call ended I called his brother immediately asking him to whizz round the corner a couple of minutes and see if he was still there. Unfortunately he wasn't and by that time Mr Warehouse had driven off leaving a few chunks of plastic and debris in his wake. I promised to update Big-Brother Warehouse about how he was when he got in and to check if we need to go to accident and emergency. About twenty minutes later and with the sun now setting I heard a bike rolling through the quiet streets. Undressing my boyfriend and making sure that he was OK I could see that he was well within the grips of shock. Tongue was white as a ghost and he was waiting up and down the front room checking every inch of his body for scratches or bruising. 

Sitting him down I make sure to contact his family including his brothers and his mother, and all whilst I made sure he missed a good strong and sugary cup of tea. Us British eh?! Thankfully he was alright in terms of no cuts or bruising just a couple of light cat scratches from bushes and a couple of rashers from where he woke up in some stinging nettles. I was probably more concerned at the fact that he was now shaking and saying that he was cold, not to mention a large headache as well as pain in his hand, wrist and lower back. Yet again I said to him that we should probably go to A&E as he had been involved in a major bike accident not only that but he has fuzzy memory about what exactly happened and thinks he may have been knocked unconscious. Mr. Warehouse wasn't having any of it though. 

After a brief heated discussion and a talk with his mother, Mr Warehouse and I came to a compromise that we would call the 111 service setup for the NHS. After going through numerous questions and answering yes, no and explaining what had happened in general the operator had decided with her superiors that a ambulance should be sent on its way just to be sure. Ambulance arriving it couldn't have been quicker or at a more convenient time as Mr Warehouse was going into full blown shock mode, suffering from chills and hot sweats as well as feeling nauseous. But disaster was not over yet as I had to get the dog out of the way of the paramedics in order for them to do their job. As I went to go and grab Pooch's collar, she told hard and I felt harder which only meant one thing for my nail that was holding on as tightly as possible. SNAP!

Crying out in agony on the inside I tossed the dog into the bedroom and shut the door behind her cussing at her under my breath. Mary mother of God did it hurt and oh my goodness I thought that I was actually going to be pissing blood from my finger it thumped so hard. As the paramedics did their job well running tests and checking Mr warehouses Obs I was standing there feeling like a lemon and wondering whether I should inform the medical team that I myself had also had an injury - A broken nail. I didn't and after a brief conversation about how to try and stay safe on the road the wonderful medicine Angels left. I suppose that I just have to be thankful that the equipment that Mr. Warehouse was wearing did it's job and potentially saved him from otherwise more serious injuries or potentially even worse. God only knows what the outcome would have been should he have not been wearing his protective jacket, trousers and helmet. So many times across so many different continents and countries I am sure that you all will have seen that idiot on a motorbike driving down the road with nothing but a T-shirt and a pair of shorts on! It just doesn't bare thinking about what could have happened. 

And so Mr Warehouse has spent most of the weekend recovering either on the sofa or in bed. We had a look at the motorcycle itself and it seems as though most of the damage is simply plastic and could easily be replaced or repaired. I think my main concern is whether it drives OK as the alignment seems slightly off and when Mr. Warehouse drove it home he was obviously battling a shock as well as adrenaline coursing through his veins. Hopefully nothing is too expensive as I would ideally like to try and get some things done sooner rather than later in the flat. Who knows maybe it will be this weekend that we finally get round to doing some DIY! 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx