Love is infectious ... but so is Coronavirus!

Heyy, 

Pressing send I knew it was official. There was no coming back from it or pretending this wasn't happening. Certainly, no going back the idea, I was positive that the next few days and weeks, explaining the story over and over again would get tiring, however no more tiring than what Mr Warehouse and I were going through. 

Coming back from Newquay and our Cornwall adventures had not been easy and with Boris' new announcement released last week which finally included some information on the hundreds of thousands of couples due to be getting married this year, still hadn't helped us muddle through the mess of trying to wed in 2020.

Drafted on the basis of the all-important and rather elusive scientific evidence, since 4 July in England weddings can now take place with up to 30 guests and from 1 August, "small wedding receptions will be able to take place" the UK Government announced. For us however crunching the numbers it, in short, meant no singing, no choir (namely in our circumstances due to age and health issues which would consider them in a COVID-vulnerable category, not to mention being unable to learn 2 new songs by the time our day rolled around). It also means for us that it would not even be 30 people as we need to include in that group our photographer, videographer, Reverand and at least 2 witnesses. It gets even worse when you start to think about the "reception" (if you can even call it that more like a glorified dinner out) and again we would need to include photographer, videographer, bar staff & waiting staff, taking our total down to even less. We calculated just 19 people could come to our special day.  

Arriving at the church Mr Warehouse and I was excited to see the Reverand again and chat wedding stuff. However, on walking in we instantly noticed the socially distanced chairs, podded up in pairs. There was no aisle. There were no flowers. There was just a coldness to it all. Seating ourselves we caught up on small talk before heading into the nitty-gritty of it all. Discussing through the options available to us it very quickly dawned on me that our conversations would not be based on flowers and readings. 

"I know this is a shock to see the church this way," the Reverand started, "however I wanted you to see it as it stands now, with no more restrictions being lifted what the absolute worst-case scenario looks like." I felt panicked. I now had to be a big girl and face what I had been dreading for months. Along with Mr Warehouse I agreed and admitted that for far too long maybe now I have been burying my head in the sand and pretending it will all blow over, all whilst in the double knowledge that within the next few weeks we would need to be having this chat anyway. 

As Mr Warehouse spoke of guests and the meaning of the wedding to him he touched on a point that had nearly set me off crying. I was close but held it back as my future husband asked openly if I would have been OK with the photos and wedding film of our special day just including twenty pairs of eyes, masks and a socially distanced congregation. Holding it together (just about) I thought about what that would look like and for the hundreds of pounds we were spending on capturing our day I didn't like the idea of looking back on them and watching the footage crying sad tears over happy ones because of the circumstances. 

"May I say a prayer for you both?" the Reverand asked. Again agreeing (because what else are you meant to do we were asking to get married in this ladies office, God's house - And to be fair, we needed every damned prayer we could get) we bowed our heads and Mr Warehouse even put his hands together. 

As the Reverand started I could hear in her voice the searching for positive words and something to envoke encouragement and some sort of solace. But as she began to talk of strength through difficult times I knew I couldn't hold it in no more. Silently the tears started to fall from my cheeks, rolling down into my double-chin crease. "Pull yourself together women, there are many other reasons to cry in church; Weddings, Funerals, Christingal when you get an orange and all raisins - This is not one of them," I thought to myself, knowing any moment she would stop talking and I would have to look up and then everyone would know I had been crying. And when that happened it was like a biblical flood all by itself. 

Fetching a box of tissues, I was consoled by both the Reverand and Mr Warehouse as the waves of emotions drowned me. My fiance and I had to really start adulting and make some tough choices. 

"Now if this is what you are both happy with then I am happy but I would hate for you to wake up the morning after and think that you could have done it differently" the Reverand kindly finished with as she waved us out of the grounds with the suggestion of a bottle of the good stuff (I know a godly woman suggesting we drink?!) but with the next few days filled with more normal social activities and things to do that conversation would have to be put on ice. Driving home we both agreed to wait until Sunday and we could talk properly then with no disruptions or distractions. 

Sunday soon rolled around and after much deliberation (and nearly two-bottles of Rose in the local pub beer garden) we agreed that what we were asking for was too much for the government to lift restrictions too. For us to be happy to go ahead with our October 2020 wedding we would need the guest count goes up to above 80/80 (up to 80 for the ceremony and the same for a wedding breakfast) plus being allowed to have sing in church as well as an evening reception with DJ and disco. With this, we could have continued with the plans as they are, albeit on a reduced number of guests for our semi-normal COVID wedding. 

If we were to wait as we wanted to until the end of August to make our decision there was going to be no hen or stag do, and to be honest no real guarantee of the wedding we wanted and planned for. On further reflection of schools reopening, pubs and restaurants reopening, shops reopening and the dreaded face mask/covering debacle (hold out for another blog post on this one) all having their announcements pretty much 14-days before the due date it was something we just couldn't hold out that long for. 

And so it was with a heavy (and rather sozzled heart) that we took the decision to reach out to suppliers and vendors in anticipation of the foreboding announcement to ascertain the costs involved in postponing and what availability there was so Mr Warehouse and I could become more accustomed to a back-up date so as to not seem so catastrophically heartbreaking when we did have to make the ultimate decision. With most of our suppliers offering a range of dates, all of them pretty much had confirmed our suspicions that they would move us free of charge. In fact, many of them were honest enough to say that since we were one of the last bookings in their calendar for weddings this year, they had sadly been awaiting a call like this from us. With only our photographer able to do accommodate one date between March and September 2021 it made the choice easy to whittle down as there was little selection. 

And so the email has been sent, updates given, paperwork amended and contract redrafted. Postponement announcements in the post (as of tomorrow) wedding guests will be informed that my east favourite C-Word ruined our plans and that whilst shit happens ... Our new wedding date is June 2021!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Getting Hitched!

Hi everyone, 

Sitting there in the darkened corner of the dancefloor I watched as the bride and groom skitted across the parquet flooring watched by all their family and friends I thought about how that would be me one day. As Mr Warehouse sat beside me I could tell he too was getting emotional as their children joined them in their union to become a family once again and that was it. Hearts stopped! As my fiance and I joined the happy newlyweds on the dance floor surrounded by twinkling lights and disco music we thought about how our day would be. With less than eighteen months ago it was certainly whizzing by in a flash. 

What with Vivienne being a right off and getting a new car, as well as work and social life, planning our special day, was put slightly on the backburner and it had been some weeks since I had checked our emails. Having a little peak in the inbox I realised that we had yet to try and secure our caterer and after a meeting with him at the Stagsden Village Hall where we will have our reception and our wedding breakfast, we have yet to hear back from him. 

Mr Warehouse and I had indulged in wedding planning and had booked the bar, the ceremony and the reception venue. I had researched into the perfect dress and been to try quite a few on too. My fiance had looked into suits and I think we have a colour scheme in mind. The flower-girl has met her dress and demanded her shoes to match ( as it should) and the mother of the groom outfit has already been chosen. 

But there is still so much more left to plan. The wedding planning website "Hitched.co.uk" says that when it comes to wedding planning there’s no right or wrong way to do it. However, there is a simple way to organise your wedding planning tasks that’ll reduce your stress levels and ensure you actually enjoy this exciting time!

One of the websites top tips is to create a budget - And stick to it! Like most couples, we sat down together and had an open discussion about finances and realistically after buying a house and managing debts, how much we could both afford and how to save over the coming years and months. Unlike some newly engaged couples, we are not fortunate enough for our parents or other family members to help pay for the wedding, and I think to be fair I wouldn't want them getting involved financially as it becomes a bit too messy in terms of who is paying for what and when and how much. This is our special day and we will finance this on our own. 

When it comes to wedding inspo, "Hitched.co.uk" has got you covered with their helpful website and suggests making mood boards to gain a theme or style. There are so many sources of inspiration out there which can make everything a bit overwhelming sometimes, so I choose one medium and have stuck with it. You can’t beat Pinterest – it’s a great way to gather ideas and create boards for each aspect of your wedding. The great thing I love about Pinterest is that you can collect all of the table décor, dress, cake, photo ideas all in one place that takes your fancy, and I can share them with friends and family, although Mr Warehouse doesn't love it as much as I do. The social media platform comes into its own when getting closer to the big day as I can ping across ideas and thoughts to suppliers when the time comes for a better understanding of what I want and how I want it!

Another tip from the wedding planning website is that before the hunt for the venue begins, the Bride and Groom should sit down together and talk about what wanted from the wedding venue and this is certainly something we chose to do very early on in our wedding planning process. Nothing else could ah[[en until we found it. And so we searched and searched but nothing was perfect enough. Mr. Warehouse and I knew we needed somewhere fairly sizable as our wedding party would be at least seventy. We ideally wanted some outside space to enjoy the hopefully warm setting sun and space for the kids to exhaust themselves. A bonus would have been a separate area for dinner and dancing but not essential. A bar would have been nice as well as some additional space for a quiet moment whereas parking and accommodation nearby was a must. Luckily we found most of it all in the Stagsden Village Hall. 

Some more helpful advice from "Hitched.co.uk"  was about the wedding party and choosing well. Now I instantly knew who my bridesmaids would be and wanted to ask Mr. Warehouse Neice, the only little girl in both our families if she would like to be my flower girl. However, Mr Warehouse had a bit of a harder time choosing between his brothers as who would be Best Man and so just settled and chose both. My advice would be if you’re not sure then don’t feel rushed into your decision. Think carefully about who will be the best people to support you and your fiance on your special day and in the run-up to it.  You may also want to consider the cost as your bridal party will need outfits, bouquets, buttonholes and thank you gifts, so the more people you have, the more this could impact your budget.  They will be in your photo's on your mantlepiece forever so be sure to make a wise choice. 

There are so many more decisions to make, most of the ones I talked about both Mr. Warehouse and I have already done, and more. Here's hoping that the next few weeks I can get the catering sorted and maybe even onto some more exciting things!

'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

Not A Cloud In The Sky

Hello everyone, 

So I know that for many of you this week's will be very much an anticipated post about life thus far since Mr. Cheese got home from his Greek adventures. I have even had Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee emailing me their own rendition of things. Well here's hoping you wont be disappointed ...

After finishing work early I headed straight to the shops for some much needed alcohol for the impending night out with Miss Chocolate. Why did I leave work early? Because I thought I had an interview. But as per usual I had muddled it up and booked the wrong day off. It was in fact for Monday morning. Irrespective of my inaccuracy I bagged the job and am now working as a Credit Controller for a large industrial machinery company. I know what your thinking - Nine months and four jobs. But what can I say, I like the change! Heading back home to collect my things for the night out I mooched about until it was time to leave. Upon arrival to Miss Chocolate's abode I wasted no time in getting stuck into pre-drinking and talking about life in general. We discussed my upcoming birthday plans and of course my date the following day with Mr. Cheese. As we kept talking, in between taking selfies and putting on make-up, the drinks continued to be poured and before long I was well on my way to loosing all inhibitions. Soon after we left in a cab and arrived at the club in due time but not before stopping off and having a healing from a god-squader who wore very long fake nails and had a head tattoo. Straight to the bar a necked a few before dashing to the dance floor. 

After a few hours and even more drinks I had thought it would be a good idea to email Mr. Cheese although the content of which I am unable to recall. Probably something about dancing and drinking far too much. Throughout this though Miss Chocolate and I have been dancing the hours away with some very dodgy characters, one of which was walking around a fairly packed nightclub with nothing less than a hard-on. Only in Luton would that be acceptable. Nevertheless our night continued. Dancing along suddenly I was approached from behind (No pun intended and anyone who knows me personally knows that this scares me greatly) and grabbed my hand. pulling me in for a hug he whispered in my ear "Follow my lead". Confused I didn't have time to think before he whirled me around the sticky, tiled floor. A space in the crowd formed and in seconds I had turned into a dancing pro; tapping my feet to the Charleston, Mamba and the Waltz. Who was this weirdo though and what did he want? Well apparently he wanted to buy me a drink. I obliged and we headed to the bar. Small talk followed and then the drinks. Not one. Not two. Not three. But four drinks. Granted two were intended for Miss Chocolate but since she didn't like the chosen beverage I adopted it to my bloodstream instead. After some sneaking around Me and Miss Chocolate scurried away from our drinks dispenser and found a quiet corner to guzzle. He found us though and wanted to tell me how rude it was to run away. I explained to him loudly how buying me a drink does not mean I am forced to spend the rest of the night with him and indeed leave with him either. He soon left me to my alcohol and wing-women. 

The night progressed and as it did the more photo's and the more emails were sent, although this was not my only concern of the night. According to legend there was many a frog in the club that night and only a fair maiden such as myself (don't laugh) could cure them of such hideous facial disfigurement. Safe to say no amount of drunken kisses could make them more handsome and so in the small hours of Saturday morning Miss Chocolate and I left for our beds, but not before being followed out of the nightclub and nearly out the doors by one frog in particular obviously wanting more. Smiling and waving as I left I knew that my ego was growing out of control, but by morning came it was back to the usual uninhibited self. 

Finally after spending the morning being shouted at by Miss Chocolate to get up and out of bed I left for London, Jelly Belly well in-toe. Shaved, trimmed, tidied and ready in case anything was to happen and we just couldn't continue with the day until our sexual appetite was satisfied. And so as I approached the grey, shininess of the city there he was to great me, as promised underneath the romantic Marble Arch on the edge of London's Hyde Park. Although I was twenty-odd minutes late he didn't seem to mind and we embraced and talked of our time apart. It was all planned out in my head. We would start off with a picnic by the Serpentine and then head to the Natural History Museum for a potter. Why I hear you ask? Well my dear's Mr. Cheese is very clever and studied ancient Greek history at university. Now since there wasn't a ancient Greek history museum in London that he hadn't been to I thought I would tie in his love of history and Zebra's to make it the best choice next to the Zoo which wouldn't be great if it was raining. As we walked around the green flower gardens of Hyde Park it was at this point my home-made picnic fit for a king and queen was beginning to get heavy. I suggested a pretty spot by the Thames to eat our picnic but after a heavy night of drinking my stomach still did not agree with food but even still I picked until I was satisfied I had dented the amount I brought. 

The rest of the day was spent walking round the expensive shopping quarters in the west of the city stopping off at a cafe for tea and cake. I settled for fruit juice as the belly still didn't know where I was. Hours flew by and I was enjoying myself being around Mr. Cheese although it did take me most the day to pluck up the courage to hold his hand. Naaw! But before long we had dinner in front of us at a simple yet contemporary fish and chip shop in Covent Garden, somewhere a little townie such as my self had never been to before. As the twilight crept in we continued our city tour in under the cover of darkness and the London lights, stopping off at Trafalgar Square, seeing Big Ben, and the Eye, Piccadilly Circus and Nelson's Column. The only thing we missed out on my trip to the capital was Buckingham Palace - But seriously who can complain when you have a cute guy kissing you sweetly beneath the twinkling and bustling action of London Town?

I know what you are all wondering now though. Where did it go? Well I am never one to kiss and tell (at least not yet anyway) although I shall tell you that after an excuse of a nice cuppa we did in fact end up back at Mr. Cheese's very, very nice flat in West London. Surprisingly though,  for a male in his early twenties there are no naked girls plastered on his bedroom walls, only innocent photo's of friends and family. Oh and flags. I think he is a bit obsessed with flags?! Hmmm. But yes I digress. After tea we talked and gradually things started to simmer and whilst the pot didn't boil over as expected or anticipated it was a nice and lovely. Maybe Mr. Cheese has left room for the pot to explode next time we meet which will be this weekend? Oh I do hope so! More than half a year without some hard, hot action and I am in need of a good session that will leave me exhausted and content not disappointed and flat like last time. 

I woke up at 5am on Sunday morning feeling awful and knowing that I couldn't be sick in Mr. Cheese's lovely home I planned on leaving early. Sitting on the edge of the bed and watching him whilst he snoozed (I'm not weird OK everyone does that ... Right?!) I realised that maybe we had made a huge mistake letting things get this far. Was it too soon? Is this the best thing to do? Where do we even go from now? Is this it? To be honest I don't think that really helped my Jelly Belly situation and instantaneously I felt a wave of sickness from the realisation of what had happened the previous night and the serious questions that followed. Mr. Cheese soon woke though and made me melt when he simply rolled over and kissed me on the forehead before asking if I was hungry or wanted tea. Maybe this was it after all? I declined Mr. Cheese's offer and explained I would be leaving soon, although that soon changed when I decided his chest wig and cute tee-pee moob's was much more comfy than the long train journey home. I finally left just after lunch time, although a quick exit was induced as Mr Cheese's flat mate got back from her own escapades just minutes after finishing round three.

All in all though a wonderful weekend of naked cuddles, tender kisses and whispered sweet nothings all topped off with enough pillow talk to smother an elephant. However the questions still prevail; Was it too soon? Is this it? Where do we go from now? All these things. All happening at once. Finally maybe my luck is changing and it seems as I look up theoretically the sun is out and there is not a cloud in the sky ...

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx