Hiya,
With less than 72-hours until myself and Mr Warehouse will be on our holiday in Tenerife, suffice to say that we are very excited. The question is do have we got everything ready and are we fully prepared to board the plane? No. The answer would be no. Have I packed? No. Has Mr. Warehouse packed? No. Has anyone done anything besides from getting their hair and nails booked in at the salon been done - Well that stuff is booked, but everything else is being left till last minute as per usual.
But there has been a valid excuse for this weekend it was a bank holiday in the UK, our last one for a while as the next time that we have a day off from work legitimately will be for Christmas. Normally I will try and plan to go away to somewhere with the dog and Mr Warehouse however we were very busy this weekend with social events and also a bit of overtime we were certainly stack to our eyeballs. Friday was an easy day in terms of both work and evening, but after a hard and long week at work I was more than happy for the extended weekend, all in the knowledge that the next time I see my desk I will be less than two days away from my holiday.
Saturday started early with Mr Warehouse going to work overtime for the morning, and being the only driver in the household I had drawn the short straw by taking him to work. At 5.30am. But after an extended lay-in and a chill out on the sofa with the dog I was more than ready to start my day, again. Although there wasn't much left of the day to start giving the fact that I collected Mr Warehouse and went into town for a mooch and some last minute holiday shopping. Heading home in order to bake the remaining cakes for the christening the next day we were going to, we had little time to catch a breath before we were around to Mr Warehouses Brothers in order to look after their children. It wasn't until 3am we got home on Sunday and shattered, in our haste to get into bed and some sleep before morning we forgot to put our alarms on. As a result we woke up at the time that we were due to be leaving for the church in order to arrive in time for the christening. It was not going to be possible to make it to the church in time and so therefore we decided that we would wait in a car park of the reception venue so that we could await the new arrival.
Unfortunately due to the gloriously sunny weather it was getting rather warm in my car and as a result the icing had a split. They looked like a four-year-old had done them and to hand them over to the mother of the child would have been an absolute embarrassment. Feeling depressed and at an absolute low-ebb due to the fact of my cupcakes were melting I said that I didn't want paying for them in the state they were. The disappointing thing is that I had been working on these cupcakes from the moment that she had asked me to do them, trying to work out the different ways that I would be able to carve out a centre and fill it with a rainbow. Hours has spent the last several weeks stuck in the kitchen slaving away trying to make the cupcakes look as beautiful as possible. And to top it all off we ended up arriving at the venue and realising we had forgotten the christening present. So safe to say that Sunday was far from perfect, for me at least.
Today was far more relaxed with a cheeky Nando's lunch and mooch around town for some bits for the house / dog sitter (AKA Miss Tweedle-Dee) whilst we are away. Seeing family this afternoon, Mr. Warehouse and I are now relaxing in preparation for going back to work, but only for a few hours. Next time we talk I might be writing to you from a beach or beside the pool with a cocktail or two ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Christening. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christening. Show all posts
Monday, 28 August 2017
Monday, 18 January 2016
A Visit From The Tooth Fairy!
Good Evening,
So continuing with the fancy-free frivolity of being a twenty-something with minimal commitments, this week I decided to book a day off. Now you are probably all thinking, "Hmm, I wonder what our dear friend did with her time off?" but wonder no more my amigos as I took it off not for a extended mini-break, nor a lengthy, well-needed spa day with Champers. No, I took the day off to visit the place where people are born and people die. Yes. Hospital!
After weeks of knowing my appointment to have my back Molar removed, I was certainly not looking forward to it, especially on a weekend where I had other, more important things to think about like how I am going to deal with God at Church on Sunday and what I should wear to the Christening that day. All items which pondered my mind as I sat waiting for my name to be called. I did wonder if I should maybe say my goodbyes to Mr. Warehouse now, read him my will and testament and explain what sort of coffin I would like for my nerves and fear factor were surely high enough to give me a heart attack if the Surgeon didn't.
Name called and without a moment to spare once in the Surgeon's office I was whizzed through a shit load of questions my anxiety has made me forget and hoofed straight into the operating theatre. Laying down on the PVC Leather couch I tried not to imagine people having violent porn on it. Sitting back as the nurses rallied round I asked if I would be able to listen to some music in order to drown out the sounds of drills, wrenching and yanking. Getting me prepped a lady took my blood pressure and I mentioned how I was proud that it along with all my other vitals were outstanding for a person of a BMI over 30. But as I rest my head backwards and felt the tourniquet tighten and the sharp scratch of the needle pierce my pale skin I got chatting to the lady holding my arm. She had noticed the golden bumblebee around my neck and had commented on how pretty it was, probably the first person in a long time to do so. I thanked her and explained how it was not real gold, letting her into the secret that it was in fact sterling silver with a gold-plate and that honestly I should probably go and get it re-plated. As I felt the anaesthetic take hold, pulsing through my veins I drowsily slurred that I wanted an Alex Monroe Bumble-Bee for my birthday but instead bought this as it was much cheaper that the £150.00 real-Gold Monroe. As I revelled in the fact that someone had the same interest in the beauty that is Alex Monroe, I could feel myself slipping under. Everything became blurry and slurred. Nothing made sense and I couldn't feel anything in terms of pain but had the sensation of multiple people pulling, ripping and stretching my face.
As they wheeled me coming out of Theatre I noticed Mr. Warehouse on his feet, waiting anxiously. I have no idea of time and whilst I was recovering from the drugs and anaesthetic I lay there not wanting to speak to my sweet boyfriend as I could feel that he did not want to look upon me in the state I was. Later I recall him saying that it was one of the worst moments of being with me as he loathed the fact that I was in pain and hooked up to all these machines, nothing that he nor I could do to make it better. What a sweetheart 'eh?!
Apparently it wasn't all morbid and solemn. Supposedly there were two surgical bins, one yellow, one black and white. According to Mr. Warehouse I was so out of it from my medication I thought that they were a Duck and a Penguin having a deep conversation about the political affairs somewhere. I also tried to dance whilst lying in my hospital bed and this didn't stop when the nurses tried to get me up. Soon though I was allowed home. Mr. Warehouse took me back to the Home he shares with his Mom and pet Dog. Mr. Warehouse treated me very well on Friday, read all my hospital paperwork, made sure I took my meds on time, kept me topped up on water, wiped my dribbles and even made me lunch and dinner. Such a good boy isn't he!?
With my tooth removed the rest of Friday was a haze between doggy cuddles, Mr. Warehouse cuddles and sleeping. The weekend as a whole was fairly relaxing ending yesterday with a beautiful Christening service in a tiny snow-dusted church on the outskirts of Marston Mortaine in the idyllic Bedfordshire countryside followed by a wonderfully tasty meal at The Embankment Hotel, situated right on the river front of the River Ouse in Bedford. Now I must say that on calling the venue a few weeks ago to ask for a menu to be sent via email for pre-selecting what I and the boyfriend were going to have I was quite put out by the rudeness from staff and other telephone answer-ers. However on entering and ordering a 'Hot Mulled Cider' which took longer than needed I was pleasantly surprised when they not only offered me a drink on the house for the 30-minute wait whilst the Cider warmed but also a couple of free refills and what amazingly scrumptious, apple-y, lemon-y, cider-y goodness. especially for when there is snow on the ground outside.
But hears hoping that this weekend the snow can stay away so Mr. Warehouse and I can do something fun involving something warm and cosy. Definitely not off to raid my under sink booze-cupboard for some left over cider ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So continuing with the fancy-free frivolity of being a twenty-something with minimal commitments, this week I decided to book a day off. Now you are probably all thinking, "Hmm, I wonder what our dear friend did with her time off?" but wonder no more my amigos as I took it off not for a extended mini-break, nor a lengthy, well-needed spa day with Champers. No, I took the day off to visit the place where people are born and people die. Yes. Hospital!
After weeks of knowing my appointment to have my back Molar removed, I was certainly not looking forward to it, especially on a weekend where I had other, more important things to think about like how I am going to deal with God at Church on Sunday and what I should wear to the Christening that day. All items which pondered my mind as I sat waiting for my name to be called. I did wonder if I should maybe say my goodbyes to Mr. Warehouse now, read him my will and testament and explain what sort of coffin I would like for my nerves and fear factor were surely high enough to give me a heart attack if the Surgeon didn't.
Name called and without a moment to spare once in the Surgeon's office I was whizzed through a shit load of questions my anxiety has made me forget and hoofed straight into the operating theatre. Laying down on the PVC Leather couch I tried not to imagine people having violent porn on it. Sitting back as the nurses rallied round I asked if I would be able to listen to some music in order to drown out the sounds of drills, wrenching and yanking. Getting me prepped a lady took my blood pressure and I mentioned how I was proud that it along with all my other vitals were outstanding for a person of a BMI over 30. But as I rest my head backwards and felt the tourniquet tighten and the sharp scratch of the needle pierce my pale skin I got chatting to the lady holding my arm. She had noticed the golden bumblebee around my neck and had commented on how pretty it was, probably the first person in a long time to do so. I thanked her and explained how it was not real gold, letting her into the secret that it was in fact sterling silver with a gold-plate and that honestly I should probably go and get it re-plated. As I felt the anaesthetic take hold, pulsing through my veins I drowsily slurred that I wanted an Alex Monroe Bumble-Bee for my birthday but instead bought this as it was much cheaper that the £150.00 real-Gold Monroe. As I revelled in the fact that someone had the same interest in the beauty that is Alex Monroe, I could feel myself slipping under. Everything became blurry and slurred. Nothing made sense and I couldn't feel anything in terms of pain but had the sensation of multiple people pulling, ripping and stretching my face.
As they wheeled me coming out of Theatre I noticed Mr. Warehouse on his feet, waiting anxiously. I have no idea of time and whilst I was recovering from the drugs and anaesthetic I lay there not wanting to speak to my sweet boyfriend as I could feel that he did not want to look upon me in the state I was. Later I recall him saying that it was one of the worst moments of being with me as he loathed the fact that I was in pain and hooked up to all these machines, nothing that he nor I could do to make it better. What a sweetheart 'eh?!
Apparently it wasn't all morbid and solemn. Supposedly there were two surgical bins, one yellow, one black and white. According to Mr. Warehouse I was so out of it from my medication I thought that they were a Duck and a Penguin having a deep conversation about the political affairs somewhere. I also tried to dance whilst lying in my hospital bed and this didn't stop when the nurses tried to get me up. Soon though I was allowed home. Mr. Warehouse took me back to the Home he shares with his Mom and pet Dog. Mr. Warehouse treated me very well on Friday, read all my hospital paperwork, made sure I took my meds on time, kept me topped up on water, wiped my dribbles and even made me lunch and dinner. Such a good boy isn't he!?
With my tooth removed the rest of Friday was a haze between doggy cuddles, Mr. Warehouse cuddles and sleeping. The weekend as a whole was fairly relaxing ending yesterday with a beautiful Christening service in a tiny snow-dusted church on the outskirts of Marston Mortaine in the idyllic Bedfordshire countryside followed by a wonderfully tasty meal at The Embankment Hotel, situated right on the river front of the River Ouse in Bedford. Now I must say that on calling the venue a few weeks ago to ask for a menu to be sent via email for pre-selecting what I and the boyfriend were going to have I was quite put out by the rudeness from staff and other telephone answer-ers. However on entering and ordering a 'Hot Mulled Cider' which took longer than needed I was pleasantly surprised when they not only offered me a drink on the house for the 30-minute wait whilst the Cider warmed but also a couple of free refills and what amazingly scrumptious, apple-y, lemon-y, cider-y goodness. especially for when there is snow on the ground outside.
But hears hoping that this weekend the snow can stay away so Mr. Warehouse and I can do something fun involving something warm and cosy. Definitely not off to raid my under sink booze-cupboard for some left over cider ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 6 April 2015
Amen.
Evening all,
So this weekend has been one of the first Bank Holidays for 2015 and as its Easter I would like to wish ya'll a Hoppy (Easter Reference number one) Easter! And whilst I was banging on, and have been for a while now about my future travels and my itchy travel-bug bite, I have stayed at home in Blighty this Bank Holiday and spent the majority of it with the other half, AKA Mr. Warehouse, and some work colleagues, whom also happen to be Mr. Warehouse's friends and family.
Friday was relaxingly entertaining as Mr. Warehouse and I walked his Golden Retriever in the nearby countryside that backs onto his home just outside Bedford. And so, after a very muddy and soaking-wet trip to the shore of the Lake watching the canine jump in and out of the water like a spawning salmon we all decided to call it a day. Once home we bathed the poor pup, soon settling into the sofa with our Chocolate Easter Eggs and a movie. Saturday Mr. Warehouse and I had planned to go and do some shopping but was hindered slightly by the fact that ever since the previous evening, Mr. Warehouse had been suffering from a tight chest and had barely slept throughout the night. Worried I knew it was an Asthma attack and begged him just to go to a doctors, albeit in vain. After picking up an inhaler we headed out, and returned later than evening from a hard days shopping and browsing to a wonderful Chinese take-away and a chance to meet Mr. Warehouse's Mom's new fella, whom seems nice and friendly, just what she needs, I think!
Yesterday however was an experience, I have to say. Mr. Warehouse and I had been invited to what was in some way a Christening but was called a "Dedication" meaning that the child would be promised to god and when it was finally old enough to make it's own decision then it could choose whether to be baptised or not. In all fairness I think its a cracking (Easter Reference number two) idea. As a Christian I was brought up with my Grandparents teaching me about the ways of the lord, learning things at Sunday Schools and trips to Church when I stayed at my Nanna and Grandads the occasional weekend my parents wanted some "adult time" away from the kids, and I must say that in all the years I had gone to and been a rather insignificant member of the congregation, albeit a part nevertheless, I had always questioned and doubted the things I had been told were gospel.
I think that in any respects of religion the science and fact of the twenty-first century outweighs the fables and folklore surrounding them. It is physically, not to mention completely inconceivable to part sea's, turn water into wine and give birth to the son of god whilst claiming to be a virgin still. I have tried turn water into wine, many times, and I have failed on all accounts. Maybe this is because I am not Jesus or god himself. Or maybe it is because they are simple tales to help people who were struggling in a time of upheaval, war and dictatorship. I am positive that like Syria, Iraq and other places in the middle east today, Jerusalem in year dot was not a nice place either. Tales and stories about a couple who was born of humble beginnings becoming the adoptive parents to the saviour of all mankind was something of fairytales. Miracles and adventures to follow the Bible, whilst some of it may be truthful of the time, the majority, in my eyes at least is fiction. I love the ideas that thousands of people can be fed by just a loaf of bread and a couple of fish or that out of everything endured somebody can rise from the dead but these seem to me ancient explanations for very simple life events.
A man is murdered on a cross and buried in a tomb with a large boulder obstructing the entrance. In the days that follow the body of Christ is nowhere to be found and it is said he has risen again to help all of humanity. Question is science may have an explanation for this. In my mind it is plausible, and in maybe a small case possible, that the boulder was moved due to a shift in the ground such as an earthquake or tremor or even moved by hand. This in turn would open up the cave/tomb to thieves and looters of the time. I mean what was stopping someone getting rid of Jesus' corpse and posing as the Christ Almighty in order to gain fame and notoriety. God was maker of all so why did he not just create more saviours of the world once the only one he ceased existence.
For example, I went to a funeral last year and all it seemed to be was God this and Jesus that. The focus I feel should be on the person in the box not a man who no-one has really seen. A funeral should be about mourning and celebrating a person and who they were and what they meant to people. A wedding should be about love and the coming together of two people with their families in order to make way for more family members in a stable home with a good, steady upbringing. A christening should be the celebration and joyful beginnings of a child's life. All these events that are held in the presence of the lord, usually in God's house should be about the here and now as well as the future to come, not about the past and how the moment and moments to come would never have happened if it weren't for the sacrificing of God's only son. Now don't get me wrong, I love the idea of a church wedding in the British sunshine and weekly trips on a Sunday morning to see friends and family as well as investing time into the community, but why can't you do that without Religion. Sing songs that are in the charts and that we all know the beat to, talk about issues in the local area that affect real people and praise the good of the world that we live in whilst making a difference to those to home. A church of people and a Religion of Community Spirit.
Its not fact obviously but in my opinion the Christian religion, at least, is something worth questioning with the information, fact and science we know now. Truth is we will never know if the story of Easter is true, at least by all Christian accounts any way. Its a controversial opinion yes, and one you may disagree with but nevertheless an opinion I have. All I know is that the church I visited with friends and family on Sunday was not as heavy as some others I have attended and as a self-styled 'community church' it was as friendly and inviting as it possibly could be. Indeed, as I looked around sceptically at the church-goers on that bright Sunday morning I saw hope and positivity. Old people that had come and donated their time and money towards something they believed in, a cause for helping others as well as an excuse to get out of the house once a week and meet up with some old faces over a cuppa and a Rich Tea. In their wrinkles I saw lives that had been lived fully, tragedy and joy endured and not all in equal measures. They were living for something. People from all walks in life, old and young, disabled and abled, poor and well-off - This is what they believed in and had faith with someone from a story book written hundreds of years ago. But most of all it made them happy. As the singing came to a close and the ceremony over with I noted the peacefully nature of the place and the smiles and grins on the faces of all who left. It then dawned on me as I looked over at the children's reading books in the corner - Religion is no different than Cinderella or Snow White. Difference is that whether you are a follower of it or not, without it the world would be a very, very different place indeed ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So this weekend has been one of the first Bank Holidays for 2015 and as its Easter I would like to wish ya'll a Hoppy (Easter Reference number one) Easter! And whilst I was banging on, and have been for a while now about my future travels and my itchy travel-bug bite, I have stayed at home in Blighty this Bank Holiday and spent the majority of it with the other half, AKA Mr. Warehouse, and some work colleagues, whom also happen to be Mr. Warehouse's friends and family.
Friday was relaxingly entertaining as Mr. Warehouse and I walked his Golden Retriever in the nearby countryside that backs onto his home just outside Bedford. And so, after a very muddy and soaking-wet trip to the shore of the Lake watching the canine jump in and out of the water like a spawning salmon we all decided to call it a day. Once home we bathed the poor pup, soon settling into the sofa with our Chocolate Easter Eggs and a movie. Saturday Mr. Warehouse and I had planned to go and do some shopping but was hindered slightly by the fact that ever since the previous evening, Mr. Warehouse had been suffering from a tight chest and had barely slept throughout the night. Worried I knew it was an Asthma attack and begged him just to go to a doctors, albeit in vain. After picking up an inhaler we headed out, and returned later than evening from a hard days shopping and browsing to a wonderful Chinese take-away and a chance to meet Mr. Warehouse's Mom's new fella, whom seems nice and friendly, just what she needs, I think!
Yesterday however was an experience, I have to say. Mr. Warehouse and I had been invited to what was in some way a Christening but was called a "Dedication" meaning that the child would be promised to god and when it was finally old enough to make it's own decision then it could choose whether to be baptised or not. In all fairness I think its a cracking (Easter Reference number two) idea. As a Christian I was brought up with my Grandparents teaching me about the ways of the lord, learning things at Sunday Schools and trips to Church when I stayed at my Nanna and Grandads the occasional weekend my parents wanted some "adult time" away from the kids, and I must say that in all the years I had gone to and been a rather insignificant member of the congregation, albeit a part nevertheless, I had always questioned and doubted the things I had been told were gospel.
I think that in any respects of religion the science and fact of the twenty-first century outweighs the fables and folklore surrounding them. It is physically, not to mention completely inconceivable to part sea's, turn water into wine and give birth to the son of god whilst claiming to be a virgin still. I have tried turn water into wine, many times, and I have failed on all accounts. Maybe this is because I am not Jesus or god himself. Or maybe it is because they are simple tales to help people who were struggling in a time of upheaval, war and dictatorship. I am positive that like Syria, Iraq and other places in the middle east today, Jerusalem in year dot was not a nice place either. Tales and stories about a couple who was born of humble beginnings becoming the adoptive parents to the saviour of all mankind was something of fairytales. Miracles and adventures to follow the Bible, whilst some of it may be truthful of the time, the majority, in my eyes at least is fiction. I love the ideas that thousands of people can be fed by just a loaf of bread and a couple of fish or that out of everything endured somebody can rise from the dead but these seem to me ancient explanations for very simple life events.
A man is murdered on a cross and buried in a tomb with a large boulder obstructing the entrance. In the days that follow the body of Christ is nowhere to be found and it is said he has risen again to help all of humanity. Question is science may have an explanation for this. In my mind it is plausible, and in maybe a small case possible, that the boulder was moved due to a shift in the ground such as an earthquake or tremor or even moved by hand. This in turn would open up the cave/tomb to thieves and looters of the time. I mean what was stopping someone getting rid of Jesus' corpse and posing as the Christ Almighty in order to gain fame and notoriety. God was maker of all so why did he not just create more saviours of the world once the only one he ceased existence.
For example, I went to a funeral last year and all it seemed to be was God this and Jesus that. The focus I feel should be on the person in the box not a man who no-one has really seen. A funeral should be about mourning and celebrating a person and who they were and what they meant to people. A wedding should be about love and the coming together of two people with their families in order to make way for more family members in a stable home with a good, steady upbringing. A christening should be the celebration and joyful beginnings of a child's life. All these events that are held in the presence of the lord, usually in God's house should be about the here and now as well as the future to come, not about the past and how the moment and moments to come would never have happened if it weren't for the sacrificing of God's only son. Now don't get me wrong, I love the idea of a church wedding in the British sunshine and weekly trips on a Sunday morning to see friends and family as well as investing time into the community, but why can't you do that without Religion. Sing songs that are in the charts and that we all know the beat to, talk about issues in the local area that affect real people and praise the good of the world that we live in whilst making a difference to those to home. A church of people and a Religion of Community Spirit.
Its not fact obviously but in my opinion the Christian religion, at least, is something worth questioning with the information, fact and science we know now. Truth is we will never know if the story of Easter is true, at least by all Christian accounts any way. Its a controversial opinion yes, and one you may disagree with but nevertheless an opinion I have. All I know is that the church I visited with friends and family on Sunday was not as heavy as some others I have attended and as a self-styled 'community church' it was as friendly and inviting as it possibly could be. Indeed, as I looked around sceptically at the church-goers on that bright Sunday morning I saw hope and positivity. Old people that had come and donated their time and money towards something they believed in, a cause for helping others as well as an excuse to get out of the house once a week and meet up with some old faces over a cuppa and a Rich Tea. In their wrinkles I saw lives that had been lived fully, tragedy and joy endured and not all in equal measures. They were living for something. People from all walks in life, old and young, disabled and abled, poor and well-off - This is what they believed in and had faith with someone from a story book written hundreds of years ago. But most of all it made them happy. As the singing came to a close and the ceremony over with I noted the peacefully nature of the place and the smiles and grins on the faces of all who left. It then dawned on me as I looked over at the children's reading books in the corner - Religion is no different than Cinderella or Snow White. Difference is that whether you are a follower of it or not, without it the world would be a very, very different place indeed ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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