Evening All,
So after the trauma of last week's trip to and in Basingstoke my bruises have started to heel but even the site of a cold coffee or green and white mermaid makes me sad. Rest in peace Creamy Coffee Caramel Frappucino - Gone but never forgotten and always in my heart (but more often in my belly). I am more than happy to be back home and safe for territory, and after a busy and rather hectic week at work I was more than ready to relax and put my feet up. Alas though that wouldn't happen until Sunday as I had put myself forward in order to host the annual family fun day at work.
With the whole day being several months in the planning I was certainly looking forward to seeing everybody happy and letting my work colleagues into the secrets that I had been keeping from them for so long. I seriously think but some of my work colleagues must wonder what I actually do on a daily basis, and over the last few months I am surprised that I have been able to manage my normal day-to-day job as well as heading up the organisation for the family fun day, not to mention my duties before being the head of the office courtesies committee and what would have appeared to be chief thermometer watcher and recorder for the air-con wars that still battle long after my duties ceased.
For weeks upon months now I, along with the board, had been planning what we were going to do on the day including entertainment, food, fun activities for adults and children alike as well as the all important drink. I like organising and in all fairness I was more than happy to plan the whole thing by myself. After a few suggestions we settled on a magician that would cater for both the adults with some close up magic including ice, cards and rings as well as a magic show for kids as the afternoon wound down to an end. There would also be a children's entertainer ready to face paint and balloon model until their little hearts content. A caterer would be brought in and it was decided that a hog roast would be something different but something everyone can enjoy ... Well if you like pork anyway! For anyone not wishing to tuck into Peppa Pig there was a vegetarian option of a filo pastry pie with vegetables which sounded and looked as yummy as the main. Bouncy castles and inflatables were hired in order to keep the kids occupied and a photographer was also hired for the event as well as setting up a photo-booth for people to capture the day in all manner of fancy dress.
Planning coming to an end I was looking forward to everyone seeing the results of what I and others around me had helped achieve. As ever the week in the my department never seem to get any easier with it getting busier and busier towards the end of the week I was anxious that I would not have enough time to get everything ready in time. Staying late and rallying around the troops for extra help we got done in the end. So as the clock struck twelve (in the afternoon) and everyone started arriving I was over the moon to know that it was all over and done with ... at least for another year!
Soon the offices and garden surrounding it were filled and as I looked around I noticed that whilst I would never be able to get back what I had at my old company with the friends and tight-knit family feels that I made there, these people that I call my work colleagues are actually just a new family of mine. You have the weird aunties that always give the best advice and pervy uncles that you laugh along with. Good looking cousins with fashion sense to rival Chanel and hot sisters who make Victoria's Secrets blush. Brothers with banter for days and then there is the older and wiser generations that bring a touch of class to everything whilst still managing to be outrageous on the odd occasion. Yes, looking around at my new work family I was certain that I could make this work! I even got a little bit emotional thinking about the fact that I along with my team had managed to pull off a family Fun day that I would hope with rival others before it.
Even my very own flesh and blood came - Well my auntie, uncle and cousins anyway! With it's been a free event as well as less than half an hour drive from there home, it was a no-brainer to come and support me on such a special day. My first ever event organising. And whilst I wasn't alone in my efforts, I was just glad that my own family could be there to see how well I have done and all the effort that I had put in. I think for one of the first and only times in my entire life I had heard my uncle and my auntie both say that they were proud of me and all the work I had achieved. Unfortunately my sisters from other misters were not available to attend and instead we're either busy I bet sunning it up in Sunny Beach, Bulgaria as Miss Tweedle-Dee was doing with Momma Tweedle-Dee or getting ready and preparing for a life on another continent as Miss Tweedle-Dumb was with her boyfriend. At least they knew that they couldn't make it, that's all that matters.
As fast as anything the day flew by with little more than a few hiccups and before I knew it it was time to go home. I think I will miss it you know organising everything and planning for something spectacular. Maybe next year we will get to do it all over again and maybe we can get even more people turning out to celebrate and spend some QT together ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Cousin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cousin. Show all posts
Monday, 10 July 2017
Monday, 24 April 2017
You cant pick 'em, But I wouldn't want to!
Evening,
Sun shining, cousins playing in the garden and all my family around me, the only thing that could have made this better was a glass of wine and someone to drive me home. Alas, Mr. Warehouse has yet to learn to drive and as such I was driving so no White Zinfandel from me! But as the temperature rose to a pleasant English Summer's day I soon realised that, no offence of course, but my family is old! Sounds strange but Mr. Warehouse and myself were the youngest adults on the patio, and not that this is an odd occasion, as it was the same when we visit Mr. Warehouse's brothers and their respective families.
It sounds strange but you never really think about your family getting older. You always imagine them being there for you, throughout everything both good, bad and ugly. As a family from my Fathers side we have been through a lot including my father in the military and going to war with the later addition of my parents divorce and the eventuality of me being kicked out of the family home also, not to mention one uncle living in Southern Ireland and working away in Africa, another with a busy life involving a young family and my grandparents facing care issues with my Grandpa. But every family is different and I am sure that similar problems arise.
My Aunt and Uncle had come over from Southern Ireland and we all in my Grandma's Garden and I cast my thoughts to the day where I would one day be the Grandma and I would be hosting a BBQ with my family and my grandchildren. Lemon Cake on the side and with pretty flowers adorning the garden area (not sure how though since I fucking hate gardening) my family would surround me for hopefully some of the happiest days of my life to come. Bringing myself back into the moment though, with most of my Aunts and Uncles drinking we all revelled in each others lives and what was going on and what was up with work, home and family life. However, there was a point in the Sunday rays as the smell of the BBQ sizzled in the background, I wondered how much longer I have with them.
Sounds morbid I know, but looking around at everyone, laughing and joking with one another, trying to take a dig at someone else I was grateful for the family I had. As the younger one of the family, you don't really think of the people in your life getting old or growing tired of life. But there were more wrinkles and grey hair than I remembered from last time we were all together. I wondered about the next time we would all be together, would it be another family BBQ or something bigger and more of a special occasion. Each and every person round this table I had a special connection to, whether it being my Uncle and Auntie with their two active boys who were kind enough to open their home to me when I had none of my own or my other Aunt and Uncle who would always be there should I need to them, be it an escape to the quiet Irish countryside after a messy break-up or just someone to talk something through over the phone.
Not that it was a bad thing, but I realised that one day this would end. I would be one of the only family members left and the generation before me would just be a talking point and in photo's. This made me sad, but determined not to let a single moment or opportunity be missed with family in the future. Without them you are nothing, but with them you are everything.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Sun shining, cousins playing in the garden and all my family around me, the only thing that could have made this better was a glass of wine and someone to drive me home. Alas, Mr. Warehouse has yet to learn to drive and as such I was driving so no White Zinfandel from me! But as the temperature rose to a pleasant English Summer's day I soon realised that, no offence of course, but my family is old! Sounds strange but Mr. Warehouse and myself were the youngest adults on the patio, and not that this is an odd occasion, as it was the same when we visit Mr. Warehouse's brothers and their respective families.
It sounds strange but you never really think about your family getting older. You always imagine them being there for you, throughout everything both good, bad and ugly. As a family from my Fathers side we have been through a lot including my father in the military and going to war with the later addition of my parents divorce and the eventuality of me being kicked out of the family home also, not to mention one uncle living in Southern Ireland and working away in Africa, another with a busy life involving a young family and my grandparents facing care issues with my Grandpa. But every family is different and I am sure that similar problems arise.
My Aunt and Uncle had come over from Southern Ireland and we all in my Grandma's Garden and I cast my thoughts to the day where I would one day be the Grandma and I would be hosting a BBQ with my family and my grandchildren. Lemon Cake on the side and with pretty flowers adorning the garden area (not sure how though since I fucking hate gardening) my family would surround me for hopefully some of the happiest days of my life to come. Bringing myself back into the moment though, with most of my Aunts and Uncles drinking we all revelled in each others lives and what was going on and what was up with work, home and family life. However, there was a point in the Sunday rays as the smell of the BBQ sizzled in the background, I wondered how much longer I have with them.
Sounds morbid I know, but looking around at everyone, laughing and joking with one another, trying to take a dig at someone else I was grateful for the family I had. As the younger one of the family, you don't really think of the people in your life getting old or growing tired of life. But there were more wrinkles and grey hair than I remembered from last time we were all together. I wondered about the next time we would all be together, would it be another family BBQ or something bigger and more of a special occasion. Each and every person round this table I had a special connection to, whether it being my Uncle and Auntie with their two active boys who were kind enough to open their home to me when I had none of my own or my other Aunt and Uncle who would always be there should I need to them, be it an escape to the quiet Irish countryside after a messy break-up or just someone to talk something through over the phone.
Not that it was a bad thing, but I realised that one day this would end. I would be one of the only family members left and the generation before me would just be a talking point and in photo's. This made me sad, but determined not to let a single moment or opportunity be missed with family in the future. Without them you are nothing, but with them you are everything.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 9 January 2017
"We'll Have Time" They Said ...
Hello,
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
When I was younger and my grandparents had just retired I asked them about what wonderful things they were going to do now they were officially old. Fart in public and not give a toss? Snoozing whilst watching Countdown? Drinking copious amounts of wine until you get so hammered you start to talk like Danny 'fucking' Dyer. It in all fairness was a mixture of all of the above but when I grew up and asked them what the worst thing about getting old was my Nanny Pumpkin replied this ...
"When your young you don't think fashion it too much; A pair of comfy jeans here, cosy jumper there, maybe even a stunning ballgown once or twice in a lifetime. But the older you get the more and more you seem to have no choice but to reach into the wardrobe and bring out that same black dress you wore last time you went to say goodbye to someone you knew who is no longer there,"
In all fairness at the tender age of about fourteen I didn't full understand what she meant by that but as I have got a little older, and maybe a little wiser too, I have learnt that it is truest thing and as sure as anything it is what I will be doing tomorrow for a character no one will forget.
Phone ringing again for the third time I wondered why, after all this time of being in a new job, Mr. Warehouse still insists to call me about three-in-the-afternoon once he has finished work. Ignoring it previously thinking it was simply about dinner or where I have hidden something of his, this time I dashed to the toilet in order to take the call.
"Whats up you know I cant answer at work?" I asked, concerned yet anxious I had a lot of work to get back to.
"Its my Mom's Cousin. He's been in a car accident, Its really bad. He's Dead!" I heard sheepishly down the phone. Thinking it was a joke I called my boyfriend sick and told him to stop messing around tempting fate and all. But he said it again and this time it was deeper and more choked than the last.
For legal reasons we cant state too much but what we do know is that it was a collision involving a lorry and several cars, one of which we are under the impression that the driver was over the drink drive limit (as if there should even fucking be one that is). I will never understand sometimes why people still to this day continue to put other peoples lives at risk, and I say other peoples for a reason and that is in most cases the drink driver is so floppy and intoxicated that their bodies do not tense and seize up as a normal person would when bracing for a car crash.
But unlike most families (Or maybe not as my family is quite small) Mr. Warehouse and his family on both his mothers and fathers sides like to breed and with this comes children who will be brothers, sisters, cousins, second cousins, aunts and uncles, all very close in both age and as a group. Cousins and second cousins are more like extensions of brothers and sisters or aunts and uncles for Mr. Warehouse and his family and what with them being so close they experience everything from celebrating the good times to mourning the bad ones too, everybody as one riding out the roller-coaster together.
Standing there in the bathroom at work, my thoughts immediately turned to his wife and children, grown up now but forever his babies. It had only been eighteen-months or so ago that the deceased and his wife had got married. It was one of the first family events I ever went too as Mr. Warehouse's girlfriend and it was the very first wedding I had been invited to. Nervous after reading the invite I shook it off and said it was silly we had only been dating a few months, I couldn't be invited to such a thing and be in all the photos, What if Mr. Warehouse and I were to break up? That would be awful then, you have some random in all your snaps. No thanks?! But nevertheless I came round to the idea and even was asked up to be in the photographs, albeit I was approached as Mr. Warehouse's Wife, something we all still laugh about today. I will never forget both the Bride and the recently departed Groom's hospitality, making me fell welcome and loved even though I was surrounded by many I never knew.
Mr. Warehouse's Second -Cousin was more like an Uncle to him, taking him fishing or to play pool and darts but every time I met him and his wife, they would be forever asking when mine and Mr. Warehouse's big day was and always complimenting me on how beautiful and lovely I was. I remember them saying how sad it is that they both had to go through failed marriages to meet each other and if only they had fallen in love sooner they could have had more time, but it was always ended by a notion that they have the rest of their lives with each other. And that is the truly saddest part, is that they didn't. A devastating irony.
Sitting back at my desk trying to take it all in I was really emotional and upset by it and they weren't even my family. I had met them a handful of times but their energy and enthusiasm for everything including each other was just electric. And now that was gone. I could not think of anything more that they were the same ans Mr. Warehouse and I. Ready for Christmas (at the time less than a five-days away) with presents wrapped, stockings packed and plans all made. Plans that would never be fulfilled and with stockings and presents that were never to be emptied and unwrapped. All gone. And so tomorrow I will attend Gorfield Village Church to pay my respects for a man who could never believe I was a Luton girl through and through. Goodnight and sleep tight!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 29 February 2016
Sleeping Like A Baby
Hiya,
And so, a week on from Dublin and Southern Ireland's trip ending, the holiday blues have set in and already I am desperate to start planning another holiday, especially with work friends (I say friends with some people in mind being the loosest of such) off to France and Italy in the months and one colleague in Paris at the moment. Yes I am severely jealous and I don't care! I suppose I would have had to end up learning to drive at some point, I do not really fancy being a bus-wanker for the rest of my days on this earth! And besides, at least then I could bundle Mr. Warehouse and his puppy into the car of a Sunday afternoon and go out for the day, seaside's, forests and day trips all at our disposal once I can drive! But sadly for that to happen I shall have to sacrifice a few holidays in order for that to happen.
Getting back to public-transport-hostage life as it is now though, this weekend itself has been relatively hum-drum and between finishing work on Friday and returning to my desk it has been spent mostly in a onesie and with puppy cuddles at Momma Warehouse's home in Marston Mortaine. A few countryside walks and lots of snacking was just the way I wanted to spend my weekend before pay-day when I am too broke to pay for life! One thing that did brighten my day was looking after Mr. Warehouse's youngest nephew. At a little over eighteen-months old he is probably, no, certainly the most adorable thing you have ever seen and his impression of an elephant is something to behold!
Now most of you that know me on a personal level will say that I am not a maternal person in any sense of the word - I mean seriously where would I have got it from even if I did have some?! In fact my lack of nurturing instinct is a constant running joke with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb and in all fairness next to them I would be the first one to throw my hands up in the air and run away from any interaction with small children and babies. In fact I recoil in horror when someone offers me up their new born and expects some sort of compliment in return for their swarking red bundle of scream and poop. Quite frankly most babies to me all look the same and whilst I would like to say that there is a definitive answer and to agree with the rest of the broody women in the room that "Yes he has got your great grandad's nose" I just cant see it and refuse to tell all newborns apart.
I think of the idea of children is a good one, you know, keep the world going with new generations and all and also I suppose sex is good for making you happy and keeping you thin (Obviously not having enough sex at present since I have gained several pounds in the last month - Mental note to make more effort in the Bedroom department) although for me the idea of children, my own especially, is that they pop out at around six months old, cute and fat with not bloody guts and gunk on them from labour and with a cheeky few words or actions in their remit. Unfortunately I doubt motherhood is like that, but I suppose there is always adoption ... I joke, I joke!
But anyway, I digress, So here Mr. Warehouse and I are, looking after little baby (*insert cute elephant noise from said toddler*) and soon enough its time to say goodbye to his Mommy and Daddy as they were off out for a nice meal whilst we babysat.
As I started to distract Baby with yet another round of 'This Little Piggy ... ', the phrase "Cuddles Dadda" were asked for a more than a few times before Mommy and Daddy made a quick getaway to the car. Now this got me thinking, if I was in their shoes - Could I put my son down and leave him whilst I went out for a meal?! The direct answer is yes, and of course, maybe rather harshly, I would jump at a chance. Having a normal adult conversation that doesn't centre around Iggle-Piggle and not having to make air-plane/choo-choo noises to eat something with a spoon or fork would be the idea of parental bliss, something childless-me probably takes for granted along with lay-in's and nights out on the lash!
A few mind-numbingly unbearable moments of In The Night Garden later, Mr. Warehouse and I decided it was time for bed and strangely letting me take charge I was instructed to take Baby upstairs, give him his bottle and read him a couple of stories before switching on a calming night-light and leaving the room. Doing it by the book and reading some informative stories of how three little kittens like to have their bedtime routine, it was time to leave the room and let the baby cry it out. Feeling awful I knew that Mr. Warehouse felt worse just by the look on his face. Mr. Warehouse's Baby Nephew had only just learned to try and say his name (after smashing mine first go a few weeks ago) and now all he kept crying and screaming from his little box room was for his Uncle's Cuddles. Heartbreaking as that was we needed to give Baby time to self soothe. Seven-minutes of sitting with the TV on mute, watching on the baby monitor this little sleeping bag of fury roll and screech around the cot I took it upon myself to go back in. Scooping the little monster into my arms I panicked, alone and unequipped in a dark room, Mr. Warehouse had chose to stay downstairs. As I took a seat on the edge of the rocking chair and gently rocked back and fourth, soothing Baby with my Shh's and letting him drink from the bottle again he was soon dozing off to sleep. grizzling a few times as I went to put him down in the cot I rocked him again until he was eventually on his one-way train to the land of nod.
Quietly slipping down the stairs I felt like a new Mom, weird I know. But what was weirder was that a few moments later I was brought to tears as Mr. Warehouse congratulated me and thanked me for being able to deal with the situation and succeeding in putting my first baby to sleep ever. Thinking about my lack of role model I could feel myself welling up inside and even before my beloved boyfriend had the chance to second that I would make a fantastic mother, hot salty tears were streaming my cheeks. Feeling silly he pulled me in for a cuddle and we spent the rest of the night in a "lets pretend we're parents" style, although without all the nappy changing, toe-stubbing baby toys and milky-sick duties.
Relieved to be back to my normal one-bedroom flat of untidiness and chaos, I am glad that I did not, like many, many of my friends, have children early as I think I would have more than regretted it in the long run. Right now I am happy to be a cool 'Cuz' to my three boisterous cousins and to Mr. Warehouses Niece and Nephews I can be the equally cool 'Uncles Girlfriend', despite being constantly referred to as Aunty on more than one occasion!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
And so, a week on from Dublin and Southern Ireland's trip ending, the holiday blues have set in and already I am desperate to start planning another holiday, especially with work friends (I say friends with some people in mind being the loosest of such) off to France and Italy in the months and one colleague in Paris at the moment. Yes I am severely jealous and I don't care! I suppose I would have had to end up learning to drive at some point, I do not really fancy being a bus-wanker for the rest of my days on this earth! And besides, at least then I could bundle Mr. Warehouse and his puppy into the car of a Sunday afternoon and go out for the day, seaside's, forests and day trips all at our disposal once I can drive! But sadly for that to happen I shall have to sacrifice a few holidays in order for that to happen.
Getting back to public-transport-hostage life as it is now though, this weekend itself has been relatively hum-drum and between finishing work on Friday and returning to my desk it has been spent mostly in a onesie and with puppy cuddles at Momma Warehouse's home in Marston Mortaine. A few countryside walks and lots of snacking was just the way I wanted to spend my weekend before pay-day when I am too broke to pay for life! One thing that did brighten my day was looking after Mr. Warehouse's youngest nephew. At a little over eighteen-months old he is probably, no, certainly the most adorable thing you have ever seen and his impression of an elephant is something to behold!
Now most of you that know me on a personal level will say that I am not a maternal person in any sense of the word - I mean seriously where would I have got it from even if I did have some?! In fact my lack of nurturing instinct is a constant running joke with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb and in all fairness next to them I would be the first one to throw my hands up in the air and run away from any interaction with small children and babies. In fact I recoil in horror when someone offers me up their new born and expects some sort of compliment in return for their swarking red bundle of scream and poop. Quite frankly most babies to me all look the same and whilst I would like to say that there is a definitive answer and to agree with the rest of the broody women in the room that "Yes he has got your great grandad's nose" I just cant see it and refuse to tell all newborns apart.
I think of the idea of children is a good one, you know, keep the world going with new generations and all and also I suppose sex is good for making you happy and keeping you thin (Obviously not having enough sex at present since I have gained several pounds in the last month - Mental note to make more effort in the Bedroom department) although for me the idea of children, my own especially, is that they pop out at around six months old, cute and fat with not bloody guts and gunk on them from labour and with a cheeky few words or actions in their remit. Unfortunately I doubt motherhood is like that, but I suppose there is always adoption ... I joke, I joke!
But anyway, I digress, So here Mr. Warehouse and I are, looking after little baby (*insert cute elephant noise from said toddler*) and soon enough its time to say goodbye to his Mommy and Daddy as they were off out for a nice meal whilst we babysat.
As I started to distract Baby with yet another round of 'This Little Piggy ... ', the phrase "Cuddles Dadda" were asked for a more than a few times before Mommy and Daddy made a quick getaway to the car. Now this got me thinking, if I was in their shoes - Could I put my son down and leave him whilst I went out for a meal?! The direct answer is yes, and of course, maybe rather harshly, I would jump at a chance. Having a normal adult conversation that doesn't centre around Iggle-Piggle and not having to make air-plane/choo-choo noises to eat something with a spoon or fork would be the idea of parental bliss, something childless-me probably takes for granted along with lay-in's and nights out on the lash!
A few mind-numbingly unbearable moments of In The Night Garden later, Mr. Warehouse and I decided it was time for bed and strangely letting me take charge I was instructed to take Baby upstairs, give him his bottle and read him a couple of stories before switching on a calming night-light and leaving the room. Doing it by the book and reading some informative stories of how three little kittens like to have their bedtime routine, it was time to leave the room and let the baby cry it out. Feeling awful I knew that Mr. Warehouse felt worse just by the look on his face. Mr. Warehouse's Baby Nephew had only just learned to try and say his name (after smashing mine first go a few weeks ago) and now all he kept crying and screaming from his little box room was for his Uncle's Cuddles. Heartbreaking as that was we needed to give Baby time to self soothe. Seven-minutes of sitting with the TV on mute, watching on the baby monitor this little sleeping bag of fury roll and screech around the cot I took it upon myself to go back in. Scooping the little monster into my arms I panicked, alone and unequipped in a dark room, Mr. Warehouse had chose to stay downstairs. As I took a seat on the edge of the rocking chair and gently rocked back and fourth, soothing Baby with my Shh's and letting him drink from the bottle again he was soon dozing off to sleep. grizzling a few times as I went to put him down in the cot I rocked him again until he was eventually on his one-way train to the land of nod.
Quietly slipping down the stairs I felt like a new Mom, weird I know. But what was weirder was that a few moments later I was brought to tears as Mr. Warehouse congratulated me and thanked me for being able to deal with the situation and succeeding in putting my first baby to sleep ever. Thinking about my lack of role model I could feel myself welling up inside and even before my beloved boyfriend had the chance to second that I would make a fantastic mother, hot salty tears were streaming my cheeks. Feeling silly he pulled me in for a cuddle and we spent the rest of the night in a "lets pretend we're parents" style, although without all the nappy changing, toe-stubbing baby toys and milky-sick duties.
Relieved to be back to my normal one-bedroom flat of untidiness and chaos, I am glad that I did not, like many, many of my friends, have children early as I think I would have more than regretted it in the long run. Right now I am happy to be a cool 'Cuz' to my three boisterous cousins and to Mr. Warehouses Niece and Nephews I can be the equally cool 'Uncles Girlfriend', despite being constantly referred to as Aunty on more than one occasion!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 28 September 2015
The Pitter Patter of ... Paws!
Hello Dear's,
So after last week's irresponsibility of getting drunk like some crazed twenty-three-year-old I welcomed in my first full weekend as a twenty-four-year-old by adopting. Well at least the furry kind of adoption anyway.
Due to a pre-arranged Gamers event in Birmingham Mr. Warehouse and Mr. CWG were going to it was left pretty much down to moi to look after Mr. Warehouse's dog - A Golden Retriever/Labrador. But she was far from the lady she had been when I visited her at home with Mr. Warehouse, spending long weekends frolicking by the lake and bounding through the local woodlands of the nature reserve that backs onto the home Mr. Warehouse shares with his Mom. Ahh yes, the mutt was living up to her name. A right little bitch!
After considering for a few days, in fact come to think about it most of the week, I had finally settled on the fact that I would take the pooch on the Bus, or at least attempt too. So after making sure we had all the puppies bowls, food and toys and whilst bidding a fond farewell to Mr. Warehouse (please note at this point that I was not keeping her forever and that in less than twenty-four-hours he would be with the pup again) it was brought up that my boyfriend, the (somewhat) tough-guy, was putting on a brave face. Looking like a mother outside a nursery for the first time I left, promptly being dragged out of the door by an eager little madam.
Arriving at the bus stop we waited. But the longer we waited the more she whimpered. I could see Mr. Warehouse hanging from an upstairs window, leaning out to get a better view of us awaiting our ride.
"Should have just called a cab" I thought as I stood in the cold, knowing in my heart that the little fluffy mess beside me would be a handful. But just as I went to pat her on the head round rolled the bus, our saviour! As the doors opened I prayed we would be allowed on. It was early evening and the rush-hour had somewhat passed so there was minimal people occupying the seats and so I thought it best to grab a seat big enough for her to sit and lie down if she wanted to. She didn't.
Around every corner or as we pulled off from a junction or bus stop she would be still, sitting nicely and being what a good girl should be when on public transport. but the second that bus was up and moving she was too. Nearly forty-minutes later and with my black leggings now caked thick with her blonde fur as was the floor of the bus we quickly thanked the driver and exited the bus. Thankful for it not to be raining we walked lead-in-hand along the bank of the Great River Ouse I looked up and admired the strings of pretty fairy lights that donned the tree's and bridges.
"This would be perfect if I wasn't carrying so much and this little cow was playing ball" I questioned as I tried to walk quicker and get us both home as quickly and as pain free as possible. As soon as we were through my door though I was happy. Calling back an anxious Mr. Warehouse I made sure she was fed and watered so as to put her owner's mind to rest.
"Now go out and enjoy yourself down the pub. Have a few and have fun tomorrow OK?" I encouraged as Mr. Warehouse explained how Mr. CWG had asked him down to their local. But soon after the telly went on it was going off again.
My Uncles from my mother's side were in town and I decided that since the dog was now settled and relatively happy I would join them for dinner at a little Italian place in town called Amici's. Wonderful food, wine and conversation flowed as we all enjoyed the evening talking about the Titanic - A firm favourite subject of mine, Current affairs, the migrant crisis and the latest on what grotesque things politicians have done this week involving a love of bacon and sausages even I couldn't top. Dinner consisted of Deep Fried Whitebait, an all time classic, followed by a slow-cooked duck breast smothered in a Creamy Gorgonzola Cheese Sauce with Potatoes and Veg. To end I did consider the Tiramisu but I was full to the rafters and couldn't squeeze any more in. Instead I pussied out with a glass of water and some Coffee Gelato. Finishing off dinner, my uncles and I were the last to leave the restaurant and with promises of seeing each other soon we parted ways and I entered my home to find that my once chocolate brown carpet was now replaced with a patchy beige one. Talking to the dog as though it understood me I stripped to my P.J's and curled up on the couch with the Missus and watched some naff TV before I realised I was, like the dog, falling asleep.
The following morning I was awoke with a kiss like no other I have received in the morning and something I would not opt for again. Then I did something shocking and totally awful. I went. *Gasp* No Bra. *Shriek* No Underwear. *Scream* Hair in a mess and with no make-up on ... I took the dog for a wee! Yes I have my own concrete patio but she is much a diva and will only poop and piddle on grass so after walking down the the other end of the street and back again I was please that no-one was up at 08:30am to see what a horrible mess I was. Spending the afternoon with my Grandma, Aunty and cousin from again my mothers side of the family I was slightly glad of the fact that the dog was not around my feet. And as I sit in my flat now I am also glad of this fact once more.
Mr. Warehouse returned shortly after it got dark on Saturday evening and good lord it was not soon enough. I did not mind looking after the mongrel but boy was she hard work. Pulling on her lead, not defecating where I wanted her too and whining constantly it made me completely re-evaluate my life both with and without a dog. You see, for a very, very, very long time I had wanted a dog of my own, something to cuddle and snuggle with, to practise being a parent to and for general company to come home to after a hard days work. When the nights are cold and long and dark and all you have is yourself and that half-bottle of wine in the fridge you really feel like having a little buddy their beside you. But now I know it is not that simple. You have to feed them, which I did successfully morning and night time. But then you have to walk them, again no problem. Brush them, OK slight hairy duty but not if I opted for a short-haired breed.
Don't get me wrong I loved having the puppy over, but it was alot of hard work. I think that I maybe need some more time before I open up my life and share my home with anyone, especially a furry four-legged friend of the dog variety. Maybe in a years time or so. But before all that I have a whole heap of travelling to do. And so brings me nicely round to my third holiday of the year ... Kavos with the Tweedles 2015! This time next week I will be writing to you from somewhere hopefully hot and with a cocktail nearby in Sunny Corfu.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
So after last week's irresponsibility of getting drunk like some crazed twenty-three-year-old I welcomed in my first full weekend as a twenty-four-year-old by adopting. Well at least the furry kind of adoption anyway.
Due to a pre-arranged Gamers event in Birmingham Mr. Warehouse and Mr. CWG were going to it was left pretty much down to moi to look after Mr. Warehouse's dog - A Golden Retriever/Labrador. But she was far from the lady she had been when I visited her at home with Mr. Warehouse, spending long weekends frolicking by the lake and bounding through the local woodlands of the nature reserve that backs onto the home Mr. Warehouse shares with his Mom. Ahh yes, the mutt was living up to her name. A right little bitch!
After considering for a few days, in fact come to think about it most of the week, I had finally settled on the fact that I would take the pooch on the Bus, or at least attempt too. So after making sure we had all the puppies bowls, food and toys and whilst bidding a fond farewell to Mr. Warehouse (please note at this point that I was not keeping her forever and that in less than twenty-four-hours he would be with the pup again) it was brought up that my boyfriend, the (somewhat) tough-guy, was putting on a brave face. Looking like a mother outside a nursery for the first time I left, promptly being dragged out of the door by an eager little madam.
Arriving at the bus stop we waited. But the longer we waited the more she whimpered. I could see Mr. Warehouse hanging from an upstairs window, leaning out to get a better view of us awaiting our ride.
"Should have just called a cab" I thought as I stood in the cold, knowing in my heart that the little fluffy mess beside me would be a handful. But just as I went to pat her on the head round rolled the bus, our saviour! As the doors opened I prayed we would be allowed on. It was early evening and the rush-hour had somewhat passed so there was minimal people occupying the seats and so I thought it best to grab a seat big enough for her to sit and lie down if she wanted to. She didn't.
Around every corner or as we pulled off from a junction or bus stop she would be still, sitting nicely and being what a good girl should be when on public transport. but the second that bus was up and moving she was too. Nearly forty-minutes later and with my black leggings now caked thick with her blonde fur as was the floor of the bus we quickly thanked the driver and exited the bus. Thankful for it not to be raining we walked lead-in-hand along the bank of the Great River Ouse I looked up and admired the strings of pretty fairy lights that donned the tree's and bridges.
"This would be perfect if I wasn't carrying so much and this little cow was playing ball" I questioned as I tried to walk quicker and get us both home as quickly and as pain free as possible. As soon as we were through my door though I was happy. Calling back an anxious Mr. Warehouse I made sure she was fed and watered so as to put her owner's mind to rest.
"Now go out and enjoy yourself down the pub. Have a few and have fun tomorrow OK?" I encouraged as Mr. Warehouse explained how Mr. CWG had asked him down to their local. But soon after the telly went on it was going off again.
My Uncles from my mother's side were in town and I decided that since the dog was now settled and relatively happy I would join them for dinner at a little Italian place in town called Amici's. Wonderful food, wine and conversation flowed as we all enjoyed the evening talking about the Titanic - A firm favourite subject of mine, Current affairs, the migrant crisis and the latest on what grotesque things politicians have done this week involving a love of bacon and sausages even I couldn't top. Dinner consisted of Deep Fried Whitebait, an all time classic, followed by a slow-cooked duck breast smothered in a Creamy Gorgonzola Cheese Sauce with Potatoes and Veg. To end I did consider the Tiramisu but I was full to the rafters and couldn't squeeze any more in. Instead I pussied out with a glass of water and some Coffee Gelato. Finishing off dinner, my uncles and I were the last to leave the restaurant and with promises of seeing each other soon we parted ways and I entered my home to find that my once chocolate brown carpet was now replaced with a patchy beige one. Talking to the dog as though it understood me I stripped to my P.J's and curled up on the couch with the Missus and watched some naff TV before I realised I was, like the dog, falling asleep.
The following morning I was awoke with a kiss like no other I have received in the morning and something I would not opt for again. Then I did something shocking and totally awful. I went. *Gasp* No Bra. *Shriek* No Underwear. *Scream* Hair in a mess and with no make-up on ... I took the dog for a wee! Yes I have my own concrete patio but she is much a diva and will only poop and piddle on grass so after walking down the the other end of the street and back again I was please that no-one was up at 08:30am to see what a horrible mess I was. Spending the afternoon with my Grandma, Aunty and cousin from again my mothers side of the family I was slightly glad of the fact that the dog was not around my feet. And as I sit in my flat now I am also glad of this fact once more.
Mr. Warehouse returned shortly after it got dark on Saturday evening and good lord it was not soon enough. I did not mind looking after the mongrel but boy was she hard work. Pulling on her lead, not defecating where I wanted her too and whining constantly it made me completely re-evaluate my life both with and without a dog. You see, for a very, very, very long time I had wanted a dog of my own, something to cuddle and snuggle with, to practise being a parent to and for general company to come home to after a hard days work. When the nights are cold and long and dark and all you have is yourself and that half-bottle of wine in the fridge you really feel like having a little buddy their beside you. But now I know it is not that simple. You have to feed them, which I did successfully morning and night time. But then you have to walk them, again no problem. Brush them, OK slight hairy duty but not if I opted for a short-haired breed.
Don't get me wrong I loved having the puppy over, but it was alot of hard work. I think that I maybe need some more time before I open up my life and share my home with anyone, especially a furry four-legged friend of the dog variety. Maybe in a years time or so. But before all that I have a whole heap of travelling to do. And so brings me nicely round to my third holiday of the year ... Kavos with the Tweedles 2015! This time next week I will be writing to you from somewhere hopefully hot and with a cocktail nearby in Sunny Corfu.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)