After the coldest winters come the warmest summers

Hello There, 

Yet again, I sit here and write to you as the sun shines on. Honestly, I am about 30-seconds away from me making myself a gin cocktail and sitting out in the sunshine to write this week. And following on from last week, the positivity and hopefulness continues, if not with a little uncertainty and confusion thrown in. Intrigued? Well, I cannot reveal all at the moment but I have a very interesting decision to make in the next few days, and hopefully by the time next week rolls around everything will have ironed itself out and I can let you in on my big secret plans!

I was hoping that since Prime Minister Boris Johnson's announcement that from Monday 12 April 2021, non-essential retail opens as well as beer gardens, I had hoped that this weekend I would have frequented one. But alas that is saved for this weekend when I get to finally catch up with some old work colleagues from my last job and maybe even Miss Hackney and Miss SugarCoat. I cannot think of anything better than some sunshine on my skin and a cocktail in my hand.

Speaking of which, Holidays?! Are they on the cards for Summer 2021 or not? If so where? and if not then should I book a Staycation instead?! A report by the BBC confirms that whilst all foreign holidays are currently banned, and returning travelers have to quarantine in a pricey airport hotel with no windows, transport Secretary Grant Shapps said: "people in England can start thinking about booking foreign trips again".

There have now been more than 33-million first dose vaccines being handed out and with many more in older generations having had both already. But what does this mean when it comes to jetting off abroad?

One way that will hopefully help travelers in making informed decisions about destinations and where is OK and where is not so OK is the idea of having a simple traffic light system. The BBC report states that details of the new traffic light system for England are expected in early May 2021 where there will be three categories -

Green: Passengers will not need to quarantine on return, but must take a pre-departure test, as well as a PCR test on return

Amber: Travellers will need to quarantine for 10 days, as well as taking a pre-departure test and two PCR tests

Red: Passengers will have to pay for a 10-day stay in a managed quarantine hotel, as well as a pre-departure test and two PCR tests. About 40 countries are on the current "red list"

Where a country is placed will depend on vaccinations, infection rates, how common Covid variants are as well as testing and sequencing capacity. But with so much confusion last year on what and why a country is red-listed, the government are keen to provide peace of mind and clarity as to the scenes last time around with the short notice in changing a countries status meant travelers had mere hours sometimes to pack up and head to the airports, only adding to the panic at resorts all over the world. There will be a "green watchlist", to give people notice if a country is about to move to amber or red.

However with consumer group Which? estimates each PCR test could cost about £120 per person making holidays totally unaffordable for the majority of normal people and members of the travel industry suggesting that holidays and travel will therefore only be for the rich and privileged in society. Some, along with myself, would argue the most affected in society are those on lower incomes and if you have been so lucky to have spent your lock-downs at your second home in Devon with a full range of amenities, a big garden, and room to move freely, then you should probably be considerate to the fact there are people who are maybe more deserving or needy of a break away; nurses, doctors, carers, lorry drivers, supermarket employees and key-workers.

While the earliest possible date for foreign travel was previously given as 17 May 2021 - Timings, destinations, and protocol have not been confirmed and so Thomas-Cooking-It is off the cards, for me at least until we have more clarity. I am itching to get out there into the big wide world and see more of it before I settle down. But with a bucket list of destinations as long as my arm (and probably longer), some upcoming life changes, and yet more sunshine on the horizon, there are just so many things to be positive about and look forward to!

'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.

A Tale of Sorcery & Spooks

Hello One and All, 

So after smacking my head heavy off the corner of the ice-rink entrance last week, I was dazed a little to say the least. Whilst Mr Warehouse was pissing himself, literally nearly dying from lack of oxygen due to laughing so hard, I was starting to feel the effects of such a crash landing. I had stopped for a little, more so to give my leggies a rest more than anything, although sitting down Mr Warehouse stopped laughing and made a comment about how I didn't look well. The truth was that I didn't feel well. I felt sick. Like as if I was going to vomit. My skin felt weird, like that kind of flu-ey skin you get when you are ill. I couldn't concentrate, my eyes desperately trying to focus on anything. Something wasn't right. Reaching up to my head I felt searing hot pain spread across my skull accompanying a huge lump. At the size of an orange, I began getting irritable, shaking for no reason. 

I decided that after some painkillers, although truth be told I really could have done with going to Accident and Emergency but I didn't want to worry anyone or spoil my Nephew's birthday. Snoozing most of Sunday, I knew that things were not good when on day three you still have symptoms. Returning to work on Monday was like a whole other challenge as for the first time all weekend I had to really focus my attention on something important, like my job. Answering the phone, listening and concentrating on the screens all became harder and nausea didn't help. NHS guidelines state that it's totally normal to have symptoms such as a slight headache, feeling nauseous or dazed and these can last anywhere up to 2 weeks. Where I was normally on the ball I simply couldn't take it in, sometimes taking several attempts to read the simplest of sentences, not good for a busy and fast-paced environment. As the week progressed I felt better but realistically I should have gone to the hospital. The problem is I do not get paid for being off sick, apart from statutory sick pay from the Government (£70 a week - But when I earn more than £70 a day there isn't much point unless I am dying). 

I am glad for the feeling of "normal" to return because Friday was Bestie time! Miss Tweedle-Dee and I headed for a day out, checking into a hotel for a cheeky sleepover and hanging out in the City until nightfall! My dinner date was at The Alchemist on Bevis Mark. Describing itself as a new home for The Alchemist’s unique brand of cocktail bars & restaurants in Aldgate, Bevis Marks naturally attracted curiosity and with a unique location, it was a natural choice - Standing out as a glint of pure gold amidst the charcoal & black suits of the London’s business district. Suffice to say that The Alchemist does its business in a decidedly different way. Walking in the impressive golden bar gave way to a quieter restaurant area and a beautiful outdoor terrace, a perfect place for glorious sun and warm summer nights. However, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I had to settle with the fading winter sun to sample a selection of exquisite cocktails and stunning food, all accompanied by a theatrical experience. 

Starting our evening early I entered a world of theatre as my "Sailors Punch" Cocktail told its own story. Inspired by the spirits & flavours within, the molecular madness in an augmented reality started when Sailor Jerry Rum, Banana liquor, Pineapple & Coconut Bristol Syrup, and a dash of Citrus all turned up on a weird lined coaster. But using the App I downloaded it turned my drink into a far-flung Desert Islands where Pirates poached and Mermaids Merried. Miss Tweedle-Dee made a great decision - The Banoffee Manhattan! Espresso sloshed with a good helping of Monkey Shoulder Whisky, a few squirts of Monin Banana, tickled with Briottet Banana and brought alive by the dreamy Banoffee Foam! 

To. Die. For. 

Not feeling hungry I opted for a sharing starter platter consisting of BBQ Wings, Nachos, Pork Bon Bons, Mac ‘N’ Cheese Bites, Halloumi Sticks and Veg Sticks & Houmous. Finishing up before making a dash to our evening entertainment I chose my final cocktail of the night - The Colour Changing One! Grey Goose Vodka twisted with Briottet Apple, splashed with Soda, sparkled with Citrus and a little sprinkle of Magic. had this dry-ice drink changing colours from deep navies into vibrant pinks and mysterious purples. Watching the time we fast-walked to Aldgate Station to meet a man. Sounds creepy by we were actually about to encounter something much, much spookier as we dove into 1888. 

A Christmas present to my future Maid Of Honour, the Jack the Ripper walk offered a truly atmospheric route.  Miss Tweedle-Dee and I were guided (along with others, that would just be weird) into the old, narrow alleyways where we most certainly felt like we had been transported back to the mean streets of the Victorian East End. Along the tour, our guide, an ex-MI5 police investigator and anti-terror detective accompanied us to the murder sites and locations related to the Jack the Ripper murders. Learning more than just about the murders, I must say after doing so many different versions of the Jack The Ripper tours over my years of fascination, the guide - Who had served not only in the police force but undertaken military exercises including Afghanistan, Belfast and the Falklands - an almost exact background to my father, was incredible. Hosting several investigations into who the Ripper was and having detailed documentaries under his belt diving into the possibilities and struggles the forces had in catching him I was enthralled. By the end of the walk, not only was I exhausted and in need of my bed, but I also wanted to take this guy out for a pint and listen to all his fascinating stories and tales.

By the following morning, I was refreshed after a wonderful sleep in the hotel and after a light breakfast, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I departed, but not before commenting on how we should do something like that again. I mentioned a weekend in Edinburgh - Castles, Instgram-worthy photoshoots and Haunted tours galore. But the long journey and costly expense of it all wasn't something that was within reach at the moment, especially since Miss Tweedle-Dee is only a few months off being a fully-fledged adult like moi and having a mortgage. Maybe we will have to park that on the shelf that requires bigger bank balances along with sleepover's in deranged Liverpool mental asylums and hunting down a UK Horror Convention. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Blues of Bank Holiday in Britain!

Howdy Ya'll, 

Sorry about that intro - Definitely been watching too much Teen Mom OG there! Little obsessed at the moment, especially with Caitlyn and Tyler's gorgeous wedding (Tyler had me in tears with that speech). Anyway! On with the show!

So with this weekend being a bank holiday in the UK you would have guessed I might be off on another adventure somewhere abroad or maybe living it up here in good old blightly with some pals, heading out to a farm or a theme park. Sadly to say I am poor. Slumdog Nill-ionaire that's what they call me! With another week until payday and already on my last few pennies, this weekend has been a frustrating mess of odds and sods dinners, household chores not getting done and catching up on good telly. Apart from collecting Mr. Warehouse's pooch on bank holiday Friday and getting her settled in, maybe the only highlight of my weekend otherwise was heading out with Mr. Warehouse and my other work colleagues to celebrate (or commiserate) the leaving of another member of staff in the sales department, a lovely gentleman with a sick sense of humour and a shark-like hairdo. 

By the time Mr. Warehouse and I had arrived at the first pub of the evening my feet were soaked from the pissing rain. And so, dress clinging to my body making me look like a boobalicious washed up seal, I headed to the bathroom in order to attempt a blow dry of both myself and my clothes. Sadly to say the shoes and my hair, of which I had spent some time on, was unsalvagable. Onwards and upwards I thought. Necking my Vodka and orange, vodka supplied from my house and carried in a handbag, we headed onto the next place - A high end, extortionately priced cocktail bar, The Auction Room, away from the strip of Bedford town centre. "Alright for some," I thought, wondering how much my colleagues had been paid that day, all in the knowledge that it was another eight-days before my money would hit my account!

Getting a cheap bottle of Cider, I joined my other half and friends over on some plush sofa's whilst we sipped our drinks and made small talk. I took a moment to notice our surroundings and revelled in the fact that last time I was here I was with Mr. Cheese and company. Now I was with work colleagues, some of which looked very comfortable together. Very, very comfortable indeed! Putting it down to alcohol it wasn't until later that some of these feelings towards certain people was very much unappreciated and in a polite way, a gropingly vulgar
nuisance to both the recipient and others whose distaste for such thing in public matched my own - Shocked and outraged!

Nevertheless the evening continued and into another bar we went. Although this time it was our usual haunt! The Rose on Bedford's High Street. However this time there was no dancefloor! No DJ. No Disco. No Bumping and Grinding to be had! With several tables adorning the dancefloor area and disappointed to say the least we had one drink and then headed next door to another old favourite, a Yates! Hitting the dancefloor almost as soon as we got in there and having a good time as usual, we enjoyed being in each others company. Aside from the lack of bar staff and increasingly outrageous behaviour from some party-goers, I was having a good time. I think I had found my place for the evening - The four-person-deep bar in the background, dancefloor and lights everywhere and four Sminoff Ice for Six-Quid I had minimal complaints! Now yes, I acknowledge the fact that Sminoff Ice is something for the younger audience of a restaurant-come-bar but I am more broke than the Pigeon lady from Home Alone.

So as the moments drifted by in a hazzy-blur, I had noticed that a few faces had left in quite a rush. Where they went no-body knows but I have my suspicions?! Carrying on dancing and having a good time I noticed there was an altercation with one of the bouncers. Going over to see what was happening it was apparent my Mummy of the office (who has actually now left to go on to do bigger and better things but is still invited on nights out and so therefore still an integral part of my life) was being chucked out. Why? Because apparently she had been asked by a bouncer once before to put her heels back on as she had taken them off which was very common for my Office Mom! Having none of it the bouncer chucked her out. At that point my Office Dad stepped in to explain in his drunken slur that is was not OK to do that and treat someone that way. And then he got chucked out. The guy who was leaving stepped in at this point, equally intoxicated as the last who tried it on and again, was escorted off site. And if they went we all did. So grabbing our things we headed to the rainy streets outside, putting a downer on everything. 

But as if that wasn't enough, someone had stolen some coats belonging to Office Dad and the guy who was leaving. Becoming the mother of drunkards I took it upon myself to go back inside and look for them. Well that and the fact by this point I was the only one that wasn't barred. Coming back with nothing we continued onto the nightclub next door although with the night on such a southern turn it wasn't long before Mr. Warehouse and I called it a night. Reluctantly on my part as I still wanted to carry on, but the Boyfriends tooth was hurting him so it was probably best that we left together before I got annoyed at him for just moping in the corner. 

The rest of the weekend pretty much has been wasted browsing holidays I am not going on and begrudging the fact that I am not somewhere in Europe right now talking to you as I try not to think of my desk tomorrow. And another bank holiday is over, the longest one we get every year, Easter, is over with and I did nothing but boil in my own annoyance and ordering our new arrival to go and poo. This time next year I will be somewhere other than Bedfordshire on Easter ... Trust Me!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Jet Setting And The Joys of Being Twenty-Something!

Maarning One and All,

So after the thrills and spills of New Years and with Christmas seeming like a distant memory I am slowly but surely trying to get back into the swing of things that boring day-to-day life has to bring. 

With the weather cold and thick with the threat of snow and the nights darker than ever it would only be the right time to go holiday shopping. Now I'm not talking heading to Next or New Look in the hope of spotting that teeny, weeny, polka-dot bikini. Oh no! I am talking about booking a glorious sunny holiday with loved ones to somewhere lovely and exotic. 

Now every summer myself and my Tweedles, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb all manage to get our mid-twenties lifestyles together for enough time that we can plan a holiday. Usually it starts off with some emails flitted back and fourth for a few weeks ending in a mass panic about booking holiday from work, booking and buying the actual holiday, not to mention saving up spending money and the like. So after a couple of weeks separately looking for what we all wanted Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I decided it would be best to sit down al together and come to a conclusion of what we all wanted from this holiday and how much we can all afford. Normally this is all done over rushed emails in between our working days and every time I leave it down to the Tweedles to decide on where we are going, when and how much it will be. I think I am fairly easy to please with a holiday - It just needs to be sunny, by a beach, have some stuff going on in and around the hotel and be somewhere I have never been to before. Extra-Fat, Bonus-Brownie-Points to any activities where I can pretend to live a life I cant when spending my home currency whether that be Horse-back riding on the beach, shopping day trips or being on a boat at some point; I don't mind as long as my ego is happy!

The norm for booking a holiday is fairly relaxing for me and I will be honest I let the other two Tweedles do most of the leg work, leaving me only to pay up when told to. I think I speak for all holiday makers when I say that I was more than disappointed that flights to and from the popular Egyptian beach resort of Sharm el-Sheikh were on hold pending a terrorism alert and other conflicts going on in the areas surround the beaches of Sharm in the late Summer last year. After Vegas I was thoroughly looking forward to having a ride on a camel and eating strange foreign things. 

But instead, this year I was firmly concentrated on finding somewhere equally gorgeous to Sharm el-Sheikh. It needed to be beautifully hot for Miss Tweedle-Dumb and with some sort of local entertainment I can embarrass myself on for Miss Tweedle-Dee. Much to the Tweedles disapproval I was avoiding at all costs places I had visited before and set my sights on somewhere in the Canaries. After visiting there a few years ago on our first girls holiday I was surprised at the heat and wonderful bliss that comes with holidaying away from parents and work. with the girls I had holidayed on the isle of Fuerteventura in the Atlantic Ocean and loved it as much as the next person, although I was inclined to spend all my holidays on the same island. Instead I looked at the other Canary Islands and what they had to offer. 

Soon I had settled on Lanzarote. With flights from beloved Luton less than four hours, iconic black sand beaches, volcanic scenery and weather to fry eggs in, who could complain! And at under £300 per person, it certainly wasn't to be sniffed at. I have already planned to set aside money for horse riding and a camel ride as well as me, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb all boarding a boat at some point as we normally do on holibobs - Its a tradition now! I feel

Self-indulgence is wonderful and I reluctantly look forward to a time when this process will not be as frivolous and fun. Holidays with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb in years to come will probably consist of a triple room in South Wales or Birmingham and with the prospect of no kids or other half to care about for three-nights we will all end up getting wasted and be in bed by 10pm. I wont lie, I am looking forward to it and the excitement of holidays, weddings, babies and more to come is just the tip of the iceberg for some of the events that will be happening this year!

Roll on Summer 2016!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Magician's Assistant: A Master of Surprise's and Loosing Things!

Hello one and all, 

As my phone rang I was pleased my friends had made it, even if they were a couple of hours late. Answering the door and greeting them from their car Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb waddled over with their stuff for our sleepover, and standing my communal porch outside my flat sparking up a cigarette before the dreaded three-flights of stairs to my loft apartment. I smiled to myself as I knew that this would probably be the last time we had to brave those steps. 

"Why are all your lights off?" Miss Tweedle-Dee asked curiously. 
"I don't know? Just haven't put them on since I got in from work. The TV is on though, cant you see the light?" I answered swiftly as to throw them off the scent with a cool yet panicked response. Changing the subject quickly we spoke about work and the weather and general niceties before stubbing out our fags. Welcoming them in I muttered about having to muster the courage to go up the stairs again. As my friends took to the steps I braced myself for what was to come. 

"Guys. I have something to tell you!?" I said, face splitting into a smile that I quickly erased before they had a chance to look round. 
"Oh my god, what is it now?" Miss Tweedle-Dee asked, shocked. 
"Are you pregnant?" Miss Tweedle-Dumb asked frantic to know. No. I was not. 
"Are you engaged?" She asked again desperate to discover my little lie. Nope. I am still happily a girlfriend to Mr. Warehouse. Suddenly the lights timed out as my bewildered bestie's stood wondering together in the darkness. 
"OK well at least turn on the lights, I need to see your face when you tell me this." Miss Tweedle-Dee said reaching out for the switch. 
"I have a confession to make and its something I have been hiding for a while" I noted, building up suspense. "I don't actually live here any-more!" 

Confused I smiled mysteriously and as I was met by a barrage of abuse, questions and general foul language of confusion and non-comprehension I casually descended the stairs for the last time. Wiggling the key into the ground floor flat I turned and welcomed my best friends, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb, into my new home. 

Shrieks and squeals came from both of them as they ran around, exploring and searching everywhere shouting and whooping all along. "Oh my goodness you have a garden. Oh wow a really big kitchen. Look at those twinkle lights. Amazing princess canopy bed! New wardrobe! How much more space we have for fun and games! Look at all the room!" and asking as many questions their little mouths could talk - How much is this more? Has Mr. Warehouse moved in with you? What is the bills like? Have you got a bath now rather than a car-wash of a shower? Are you getting a dog?!

After about half-hour of running round, being noisy and rambunctious, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb settled down and we talked for most the evening about my big reveal and the biggest surprise I have ever pulled on them. Laughing and giggling along I am glad that they were not mad, just overly excited and happy that I had moved into a 'big girls house'. And so that was Friday night. Soon we all headed to bed and awoke the next morning ready for some holiday shopping and coffee with cakes soon to be joined by a joyful Mr. Warehouse. But the joy was not to be had for long. Oh no ... 

---

Sunday I had planned a day out for Mr. Warehouse's birthday which was just last month. I had it all figured out and it would be a wonderful sparkling day with no hiccups! Sadly this was not true. Boarding the not-so-fast-train to London we struggled to find seats so settled in a walk-through-corridor with two flip-down seats. Making light of this we chose to pretend we were in our own private carriage with two entrances and windows either side. Lucky really for the 0944 to St. Pancras! Alighting at our final destination we headed to the tubes and straight to our first point of interest - Piccadilly Circus but more specifically the wondrous Ripley's Believe It Or Not! London! Entering the venue we handed over our tickets and began our walking tour of the exhibitions and museum artefacts. Coming round one corner I noticed something spectacular. A full size replica of the Titanic made out of matchsticks. Next to it was a tank. filled with the same icy cold water that would have attacked the lost victims of that fateful night in April 1912. -2 degrees. Below freezing. Fascinated by the Ship's gruesome tale and all things Titanica I took no hesitation in plunging my left hand into the tank of cold, needle-stabbing pain. After thirty-seconds or so I could no longer stand it and wiggling my fingers in an effort to keep warm just made it worse. Freeing my palm from the Chlorine water I was thankful and glad that I could get out of that situation and get warm again, unlike the hundreds and thousands of people that died, alone in deep blackness of that starry night. 

"Lets have a competition to see how long we can keep our hands in?!" Mr. Warehouse said, rolling up his sleeves. "But to make it fair use your other hand as your left one has already had a dip."
And so as I took off and placed on the side my precious Alurring Brilliance ring from Pandora I bought whilst in Las Vegas in March this year and Sterling Silver and Cubic Zirconia ring, very similar to the Droplets ring by Pandora that I bought from a little boutique in Lyon, France whilst there not even a fortnight ago. Talking my way through the competition with Mr. Warehouse I was determined not to be beaten but alas I had to get out after again less than a minute. Drying off my hand and grabbing my bag I moved onto the next thing to see and eventually Mr. Warehouse and I made it back to the beginning. Taking a walk down to Buckingham Palace we walked and talked about the evenings entertainment of a Magic Show in London's West End. But as I stepped out across the red gravelly sand of The Mall I couldn't feel my rings on my right hand. Where are they?! Pockets?! Back Pockets!? Handbag?! I knew though where I had left them. Frantically I called  Ripley's Believe It Or Not! London, praying to god that they had been handed in by some kind, kind person. But after what seemed like an eternity on hold the sorrow female voice returned to say that nothing had been handed in and nothing was found at the Titanic freeze tank. Mourning my beloved jewellery I spent the next hour or so moping around. I tried to blame it on Mr. Warehouse, saying that if he hadn't asked me to compete with him in a stupid game of "me verses you" then I would not have taken them off ergo not leaving them on the side for some thieving little bugger to pinch them. 

Beyond sadness and only barely consolable I was taken to a posh Champagne Bar overlooking Trafalgar Square. Comforted by Macarons and milkshake I was reflective on how much of an idiot I was but also how I did not want to spoil such a lovely birthday day trip with Mr. Warehouse. Continuing with the days activities, albeit slightly subdued in happiness, we continued through some more typical tourist hotspots to the four-star, Kingsway Hall Hotel in Covent Garden for dinner. Moping still and with my phone battery dying Mr. Warehouse had a cracking idea. Lets just get pissed. And so he took me to the best bar we knew in town - Adventure Bar, Covent Garden. We had been here before on our mini-break over Valentines day earlier in the year and fell in love with the place always remembering fondly that time we went to London and went for spontaneous cocktails that got us very drunk indeed. I feel now though that it is somewhat a right of passage whereby whenever we now come to London, Adventure Bar, Covent Garden will be another tourist must-see. 

Gathering ourselves together we finally came to our end stop of the day - The Leicester Square Theatre to see Tim Barnes in Something Fishy: An evening of magic and wonder. A tincy-wincy little room, blacked out and holding only around thirty people we as an audience were shown a mirage of card tricks, fire magic, rope tomfoolery and surprises left both me and Mr. Warehouse mouths wide and aghast with questionable curiosity. Soon there was an assistant to be had and like the great Debbie McGee I stepped into the limelight and provided myself for the crowd. The magician, Tim Barnes, handed me a piece of paper with a prediction of which animal would be on a card I had just selected from a bag of children's picture cards. It was a rat. Doing as he said I placed it carefully inside a tiny black box and closed shut making sure the audience saw I had locked it tight. Swanning back over I was asked a series of questions and was given some information about animals before being asked to disclose my animal card. Then I was asked if I could retrieve the prediction from the little black box. Unlocking the catch and raising the lid I pondered on how I would unveil this ending to the anticipating crowd of people. but as I lifted the door of the box out popped a little nose. Then a whisker. Then an ear. Handling him gently I held up the live and very wriggly rat named Fifi. Black and White patches covered her body with silky smooth fur and as I petted her I wanted to take her home, imagining all the fun we would have in my new home! 

Unfortunately Mr. Warehouse does not care for rodents, especially the ratty variety and jumped out of his skin as I raised the little cutie for all to see. Amazed and bewildered at how Tim Barnes had done it the audience looked on as I guessed that the small seem at the bottom of the box housed this little critter until the magical moment! Enjoying the lights and enthusiasm from the room of faces I reluctantly handed back the rat named Fifi and took my seat once more. 

There were up's and down's but I enjoyed myself and especially when the best bit of the whole day was only £12.00 spent which is equivalent to two Starbucks and a muffin if your lucky. All in all I suppose it was a good day, apart from leaving my rings behind. Loosing something precious and meaningful that has not much monetary value but personal value in shed loads is horrible, and especially so when you know that you are the type of person to go and hand something like that back in so as to be retrieved by its rightful owner. But at least maybe I can look forward to brightening my mood slightly this week as it is my birthday on Friday. And whilst I will be turning the ripe old age of twenty-four I will certainly be partying and drinking my way through my first forty-eight hours! Bring on Mid-twenties!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

L'amour est dans l'air!

Morning everybody, 

Much love to one and all this week as Valentines day sent the women into a mushy mess because their four year old made them a card and men into a panicked frenzy at the local petrol station for lack of Chrysanthemum's. Yes I, as I am sure you know by now, am not one for spending an entire day showering others with love. I prefer to give them a little bit every day instead. But that didn't stop me and the Bae, Mr. Warehouse heading to the Big Smoke for some much needed QT!

Arriving at work Friday excited and anticipating the weekend ahead I soon realised that time was dragging. Finally though the clock struck three and with my trusty partner in crime I left my desk (including several piles of papers) and headed to the station. Boarding a packed train we made quiet small talk as we people watched men on laptops and couples clearly heading for the Eurostar. Jealous ... You betcha I was! "One Day" I thought "One Day I will finally go to Paris, even if I do go it alone." 

Arriving into St. Pancras International, Mr. Warehouse and I hopped straight for the tubes and over to Soho for some dinner before heading back to our hotel room, for which we weren't holding out much hope. Drizzling and wet, London was lacking the glory and romance I had wished but as we settled after our meal I wasn't quiet ready to slip under the duvet just yet. Pouring with rain Mr. Warehouse and I navigated ourselves back to a bar we had seen earlier, Adventure Bar, and as I wrestled to the bar and ordered some cocktails I knew that this was probably one of the best spontaneous ideas I had ever had! Music coursing through the underground club and bodies everywhere we turned I watched Mr. Warehouse as he sipped his first cocktail called Bramble, a concoction of several spirits, fizzy champagne and soda over slippery glass-like ice cubes. Only being seven-thirty I was surprised it was so busy but was happy with the scene and only wished I had packed a pair of heels and a sexier top. Moments later that mood was somewhat destroyed when Justin Bieber came squeaking over the speakers. Yes, it was time to leave. So as I polished off my second cocktail I slipped the drinking vessel very sneakily into my handbag. Oh how I love a large tote. And oh how I love my new Martini Glass. But as my dearest love put it the other day "If you don't drink Martini's or even cocktails at home for that fact, why have you commandeered one?" Alas he is not the sharpest of tools in the box, but he knows not to question me when it comes to anything of alcoholic content. 

Walking through the streets of Soho and Piccadilly I soon made the grave understanding of mine and Mr. Warehouse's journey back to the 'Hotel'. CityMapper explained that the quickest route to our Shepherds Bush accommodation was via the District line alighting at Stamford Brook, a station I am sure you are all well established in the knowledge that this was where the late Mr. Cheese used to live and his fit flatmate also. Nevertheless I tried to control my talk of years gone by and focused on the here and now with my wonderful if a little broke Mr. Warehouse. As Mr. Warehouse and I were informed of our final destination arriving soon we geared ourselves up for disaster. 
"So is this the point in which you tell me that in actual fact we have a really nice double bedroom in a posh Chiswick hotel with views of the city" Mr. Warehouse asked, worried. And I wished that was the case. I had booked the room a few days in advance with the total coming to £34.00 for the both of us for one night. Being a twenty-minute walk from any tube line I expected the worst and when I discovered it was more of a studio flat than a hotel room I had booked, all did not seem well. 
"At least it will be a giggle when we tell everyone at work?!" I said as we turned into the street. Deep, pungent smells of cannabis filled our throats as we struggled to find number fifty-seven. And as the houses became more tightly packed, gardens less blooming and exteriors ever increasingly daunting the prospect that this was a good idea was fading fast. 

We were greeted at the door by a gentleman and shown to our room come studio. We both held hands and took a deep breath as he placed the key in the lock. But as he opened the door we both breathed a sigh of relief as the room, while not the most spacious was certainly large enough for what we needed. A under the counter fridge, kettle (with no tea or coffee) and a microwave complimented the wardrobe and super comfy double bed. A large walk in shower in a newly fitted bathroom inclusive of toilet and a stunning white, square butler sink. I was more than happy to sign away the paperwork and check-in. 

Closing the door on the way out we giggled like school children as we bounced on the bed and explored our new surroundings. Feeling like virgins again we took mere minutes to test out the bed, but not before locking that front door - Don't want any more Australians walking on in now do we?!

As morning broke over London and Valentines day began we started our morning as every couple should, and in the best way. Morning Sex! Twice I think in the end. Rolling over though in a heated embrace we discussed our plans for the day and eventually decided on a visit to London Zoo. And after a much needed shower, Mr. Warehouse and I popped out for Breakfast at an old haunt of mine and Mr. Cheese's; Carluccios. Taking a leisurely stroll back to the tube and making our way over to the Zoo we took in the sights and scenes of the city and discussed what it would be like to live somewhere such as Fulham and the likes the leafy, laid-back suburbs of London; all with their white picket fences, fancy cars and four storey houses.

No sooner had we arrived through the gates of London Zoo though I was greeted by a small child. Yes. My Valentine, Mr. Warehouse, had turned into an excited six-year-old and all at the sight of a guide book and a cast iron Gorilla. "Today is going to be entertaining" I thought to myself as we joined hands and entered the wondrous world of animals great and small. We scared each other in the creepy crawlies and reptile house. We held hands and pointed in the Monkey enclosures. We even managed to have a cheeky little kiss in the Aquarium. Exhausted and being hoofed out the Zoo at closing time we walked through colourful houses and lanes to Camden where we were due to have a table already booked, ready and waiting for us. Anticipating a quick bite to eat and getting the train back to my cosy flat in Bedford ready for cuddles on the couch just in time Saturday night TV. Alas after more than thirty-minutes and no table reservation we were not happy. Seating a frustrated and tired 'Pooh Bear' (My pet name for Mr. Warehouse. I am his Piglet) I go off to angrily speak to the staff and after a word with management I was able to get our dinner sorted, although this did mean having to share our table with another couple and also it being another forty minute before food actually arrived. 

Nevertheless it was a lovely Valentines, so much so Mr. Warehouse and I were even given a blessing by a Black man preaching about god and his holy ways on the way back to Kings Cross through Camden's Alternative scene. Suffice to say that this weekend was heavenly!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx