Good Evening,
So here Mr. Warehouse and I are after a lovely long weekend, knackered and tired but thoroughly happy with this Bank Holiday Weekend's activities gone by. With a work colleagues beautiful wedding on Friday night in the bag, Mr Warehouse and I were well and truly excited for our mini-break to Great Yarmouth. Situated on the Norfolk coast Great Yarmouth was a fabulous choice for us as it was only two hours drive or so from home and nicely nestled between the cold North sea and the good old British Norfolk Broads, we imagined that we would have plenty to do not just spend all day on the beach walking the shore or in the arcades playing the slot machines.
Arriving at our hotel I must say was not the most glamorous of stays that Mr. Warehouse and I have ever had, however was nice and plenty for what we needed. It was the first bed and breakfast that the bae and I had stayed in with a dog but I was pleasantly surprised as I was expecting the room to be a lot smaller and more cramped for the three of us. Now this isn't to say that it was a large room by any standards and the decor could have definitely done with an update from at least the last decade, but as I explained to Mr Warehouse on the way back from dinner last night have you really stayed at a B&B by the sea if the room's don't look like a gaudy replica of your grandma's spare bedroom. In all fairness though the hotel was everything that we needed; Free Wi-Fi, Free breakfast and even free parking.
After checking in and getting they keys on Saturday afternoon we decided to head down to the seafront for our pooch's first outing to the beach. Running onto the golden sand's, she was more than excited and I can honestly say that it brought a tear to my eye to know just how close both of us came to losing her only a few months ago. I did think at one point throughout that whole ordeal that we would never even get to this point where Mr. Warehouse and I would be able to see her run and frolic amongst the sand dunes without a care in the world. My thoughts turned to the day of her operation to have her Pyometra removed and how sickeningly worried we both were for our dog. Thankfully though Pup pulled through and we were all here on the beach having lots of fun throwing stones into the ocean and seeing which one of us would get splashed by the waves first. I am sure that it is not, but I imagine that this is what parenthood feels like - Chasing each other along the shore and making sure that there are plenty of memories being created and enjoying every precious moment there is, laughing all the way.
After the exhausting fun by the sea Mr. Warehouse, the dog and I headed up the promenade towards the main town centre to enjoy some of the sights and smells at the seaside had to bring us. Stopping for some hot doughnuts and drinks, I reflected on how much fun I was having already and we had hardly spent a penny. Feet thoroughly painful I suggested going back to the hotel before maybe heading out again for some dinner just the two of us, but I will be honest by the time I got back my feet were so painful that I would have had to have a wheelchair in order to go out for dinner and so I got a delivery in of Chinese whilst Mr. Warehouse and I kicked back for a relaxing evening in front of the telly albeit a smaller one we were used to.
Sunday was definitely the day for the adults, no doggies allowed. Although apparently taking your dog into the arcades was not as taboo as Mr. Warehouse and I once thought. Don't get me wrong it was weird not having the dog with us, she is essentially an extension of ourselves however it was nice having a day all to myself with Mr Warehouse. Almost like having a night off from the kids, it was as if we were having our first date again; Eating ice cream, messing around in the Amusement'S and going on fairground rides together. Suffice to say that it is days like this where I fall more and more in love with my dearest boyfriend. Even if he does push me under the spray of the log flume to get soaked.
Waking up this morning I was sad to know that this was the last time I would be by the sea for at least the next few months, only difference being that next time it will be in a much warmer climate and without the dog. Scoffing down our fried breakfast and packing everything in the car to go home, I drove my little family down to the seafront for the last and final time, indulging ourselves in our favourite seaside activities such as playing on the 2p games in the arcades and amusements, running along the beach chasing each other over the sand dunes.
Mr. Warehouse and I finished off our little trip with the pooch in true British style by eating fish and chips by the cold and grey sea front and watching the shore lap against the wet sand. It was in this moment that I noticed something dark and long in the water. Whatever it was it looked as if it was moving and as I yelled at Mr. Warehouse to look out to sea in order to confirm my sighting we both were shocked as the head turned to look at us dead in the face as if he heard us talking about him. It looked as if it was a seal in fact I'm almost certain of it. A dark grey figure with an almost dog-like head took one look in our direction and proceeded to swim away. Knowing that no-one would believe either me or the boyfriend if we said we saw seals off the coast of Great Yarmouth, all of us began to chase along the shore to see if we could get a better picture of this mysterious animal. Again the canine-appearing creature decided to raise its head again above the choppy, green sea to have a look again towards land before diving deeper, not to resurface again before we headed back to the car.
What a wonderful way to end such a fabulous weekend, and all for a relatively modest budget of under £100 each. A cheap B&B, a penny jar full with odds and sods from purses and wallets over the last few months and the drive to get up and do something more than just sitting and catch up on telly or sleep of a bank holiday weekend in blightly. OK, granted it was certainly not the best weather in fact I would have probably liked it a bit warmer but it didn't rain and as long as you plan for rain and have any ideas of what you may do up your sleeve for if it does everything will be just fine. Wonder where our next adventure will be ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Fish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fish. Show all posts
Monday, 1 May 2017
Monday, 19 May 2014
Toilet Terrors and Fishy Frights!
Bloggers Note: I have recently decided to start a thing going whereby if you yourself have a 'Trial or Tribulation' that I can help with then feel free to drop me a free and fully confidential message by popping it on a mini form in the right-hand sidebar or email me at: Abbbey4@gmail.com. Also If you have any ideas on how to make me sound or look more interesting then just do the same! :) xx
Hello There,
And so after ten long months waiting and many, many times of myself fighting back the high of endorphins and dopamine after a bedroom workout I was thrilled to hear that Mr. Cheese loves me! And yes I was not false in my hopes or wrong in my hearing of the phrase for Mr. Cheese said it again over the weekend after a wonderful sunny Saturday as we lay on the trampoline in his huge garden at his families home in the country. As we lay underneath the fading sky, watching bats skit across our focus my dearest Mr. Cheese informed me for the second time that it was not a mistake and that for the first time since Miss Cardboard Box he loved someone else. Me. Little old me. The same old me that has been doubting our relationship from the very beginning. The very same person that blurted out the same phrase on the platform of Victoria Underground all those many moons ago last year. Yes. I think it is safe to say that life is somewhat better now that we have found bliss.
Speaking of blissful moments stolen together it was some of the shared moments with Mr. Cheese's family that made me ponder my future with them and him. Now obviously you are not all to rush out and buy your hat's just yet, although I feel that things could be a lot more simpler now I'm looking at the relationship in a new light. I suppose if there is one thing that Mr. Workaholic taught me it was that life is unpredictable and that you can spend years building the foundations to your future only to have someone torch them before your very eyes with the only thing you can do is to sit back and watch all your hopes and dreams burn to the ground. I like Mr. Cheese although sitting in the adults lounge at the front of the fully detached cottage, snuggled into my darling watching the nail-biting cup final between Arsenal and Hull sipping on wine I glanced over to the rest of his perfect family imagining how I could fit right in here. Pappa Cheese in just his underpants (Not joking!), Momma Cheese tending to her boys making sure they were well taken care of, Mr. Cheese and his brothers fooling around and acting like the kids they are. It made me yearn for something as idealistic as that in years to come. Looking back on my weekend, what with its glorious weather and idyllic snatched moments its hard to think that this was all amongst yet another raging argument with the Tweedles.
On the other hand though I thought about the family I have. Or had. Whatever way you look at it family is important. Probably one of the most important things in life. No. The Most important thing in life. Without family you are nothing. Without family there is no you. Although reflecting on my own is hard given the separation of my parents and breakdown of said family unit I think only makes me want one of my own that is better and stronger than ever. As the sun shone in through the roof light in the large kitchen of Mr. Cheese's family home I helped chop and prepare the salad. Conversation with Momma Cheese alone turned to my own maternal connection (or the lack of one) and the question was finally asked. When answering the question of why I never speak of my own mother arises I always have to be careful and slightly coy about how I tell the person asking the question. I knew that with four boisterous lads on the loose in and out of the kitchen I didn't have much time and so the extended edition was spared. I could tell that whilst Momma Cheese was itching to know the answer why, she was also very sweetly anxious as to not upset me. I explained simply as I had a million times before that whilst coming into constant conflict with her for my entire life, after my parents divorce my mother simply couldn't stand the fact that I wanted to see my father and so as a result threw me out. It was harder this time seeing the shock on Momma Cheese's face as I could tell it is something that even in her worst night terrors she could never dream of doing the same to her four boys. And almost as if right on cue the youngest of the Cheese brothers appeared with a question about dinner and my passed was soon just floating words soon to evaporate and be replaced by love and laughter.
All was not plain sailing this weekend though as I almost got caught up stream without a paddle - Don't worry these jokes will soon make sense! Seeing two silvery fish wrapped up in a plastic bag on the kitchen counter, I boasted about how my own father had taught me how to gut and prepare fish for cooking and since the Cheese's were having a BBQ I decided to gloat a little more than usual in anticipation that the sea creatures contained in the freezer bag were already fully ready for the Barbie. On closer inspection to the deceased critters I realised that whilst they were very much dead, (I washed them and whilst no one was watching played with them pretending I was Ariel the little mermaid and that these were my companions! Yes I know I'm sad!) They were fully in-tacked biologically. Not wanting to look like a tit and trying desperately to show how amazing I am in the kitchen I chopped off the heads of my underwater friends, cut off their tails and fins, and finally ripped out their insides! Giving them a after-life massage with some lemon, salt and pepper I wrapped them in a towel of tin foil and stuck them in the fire pit for all of about five minutes. Its OK though they had three skewers of prawn-y pal's to keep them company whilst they steamed away. I was very impressed with myself and they tasted wonderful.
And goodness me the faux pas didn't begin their either as Friday night we all congregated at a posh local restaurant with the whole Cheese family out to celebrate Pappa Cheese's birthday. Apparently he is near to sixty but I myself cannot see how this is possible since both Momma and Pappa Cheese look so young. Very confusing. Nevertheless the moment come when I had to break the seal. choosing y moment carefully I politely excused myself from the table and made my way across the tinie-weenie restaurant floor to a door in which I thought would lead to a entrance and lavatories. I was taken aback however after entering through said door and noticing that it was an extension of the establishment and tonight was hosting a meeting. Obviously very important and not wanting to disturb such pressing matters I asked shyly where the toilets were. They looked at me with utter disgrace and contempt. The faces stared at me. I stared back. It was a tense battle of wills and I was literally shitting myself. After what seemed like an eternity of angry looks one spokesperson pointed to a door across the room and motioned me to go and inform me that I should not call them toilets I should call them lavatories. Not wanting to upset or disturb the committee any further I hurried along passed the glares. Only as I turned my back to leave I heard a little voice within the group of obvious villagers piped up and whisp-squeeked (Across between squeaking and whispering) "She called them toilets!" To which nearly made me wet myself right there and then. As I sat on said throne I took a moment to realise what had actually in real-life, really happen. Not only had I used the incorrect phrase to describe such an act of nature but I had also just walked in and through what can only be seen as a regular meeting held by the Federation of Fouling. Other witty names I came up with at the table included 'The Toilet Committee' and the 'Poo Police' - All of which gave at least a chuckle when I explained what was on the other side of the rightly coloured, brown door. Although on later reflection I realise now that they were all involved with SHITT - the Society Held In Toilet Terminology.
Laughs and giggles aside now though as I have a hectic week ahead of me! Tomorrow I am meeting up with Miss Chocolate to hear all about her life and liaisons. then on Friday is the first wedding of a friend - The marriage of Miss Bride and her fiancé whom I have both known for years and are a wonderful couple. Sunday I have the joy of spending it with my favourite ladies, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Stuu for a lovely, hopefully sunny day out in Brighton for Miss Tweedle-Dumb's Birthday! A busy weekend jam-packed with family, friends and fun. Finally though after what seems like forever I have a normal social life again. And this time it even includes some regular exercise.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Hello There,
And so after ten long months waiting and many, many times of myself fighting back the high of endorphins and dopamine after a bedroom workout I was thrilled to hear that Mr. Cheese loves me! And yes I was not false in my hopes or wrong in my hearing of the phrase for Mr. Cheese said it again over the weekend after a wonderful sunny Saturday as we lay on the trampoline in his huge garden at his families home in the country. As we lay underneath the fading sky, watching bats skit across our focus my dearest Mr. Cheese informed me for the second time that it was not a mistake and that for the first time since Miss Cardboard Box he loved someone else. Me. Little old me. The same old me that has been doubting our relationship from the very beginning. The very same person that blurted out the same phrase on the platform of Victoria Underground all those many moons ago last year. Yes. I think it is safe to say that life is somewhat better now that we have found bliss.
Speaking of blissful moments stolen together it was some of the shared moments with Mr. Cheese's family that made me ponder my future with them and him. Now obviously you are not all to rush out and buy your hat's just yet, although I feel that things could be a lot more simpler now I'm looking at the relationship in a new light. I suppose if there is one thing that Mr. Workaholic taught me it was that life is unpredictable and that you can spend years building the foundations to your future only to have someone torch them before your very eyes with the only thing you can do is to sit back and watch all your hopes and dreams burn to the ground. I like Mr. Cheese although sitting in the adults lounge at the front of the fully detached cottage, snuggled into my darling watching the nail-biting cup final between Arsenal and Hull sipping on wine I glanced over to the rest of his perfect family imagining how I could fit right in here. Pappa Cheese in just his underpants (Not joking!), Momma Cheese tending to her boys making sure they were well taken care of, Mr. Cheese and his brothers fooling around and acting like the kids they are. It made me yearn for something as idealistic as that in years to come. Looking back on my weekend, what with its glorious weather and idyllic snatched moments its hard to think that this was all amongst yet another raging argument with the Tweedles.
On the other hand though I thought about the family I have. Or had. Whatever way you look at it family is important. Probably one of the most important things in life. No. The Most important thing in life. Without family you are nothing. Without family there is no you. Although reflecting on my own is hard given the separation of my parents and breakdown of said family unit I think only makes me want one of my own that is better and stronger than ever. As the sun shone in through the roof light in the large kitchen of Mr. Cheese's family home I helped chop and prepare the salad. Conversation with Momma Cheese alone turned to my own maternal connection (or the lack of one) and the question was finally asked. When answering the question of why I never speak of my own mother arises I always have to be careful and slightly coy about how I tell the person asking the question. I knew that with four boisterous lads on the loose in and out of the kitchen I didn't have much time and so the extended edition was spared. I could tell that whilst Momma Cheese was itching to know the answer why, she was also very sweetly anxious as to not upset me. I explained simply as I had a million times before that whilst coming into constant conflict with her for my entire life, after my parents divorce my mother simply couldn't stand the fact that I wanted to see my father and so as a result threw me out. It was harder this time seeing the shock on Momma Cheese's face as I could tell it is something that even in her worst night terrors she could never dream of doing the same to her four boys. And almost as if right on cue the youngest of the Cheese brothers appeared with a question about dinner and my passed was soon just floating words soon to evaporate and be replaced by love and laughter.
All was not plain sailing this weekend though as I almost got caught up stream without a paddle - Don't worry these jokes will soon make sense! Seeing two silvery fish wrapped up in a plastic bag on the kitchen counter, I boasted about how my own father had taught me how to gut and prepare fish for cooking and since the Cheese's were having a BBQ I decided to gloat a little more than usual in anticipation that the sea creatures contained in the freezer bag were already fully ready for the Barbie. On closer inspection to the deceased critters I realised that whilst they were very much dead, (I washed them and whilst no one was watching played with them pretending I was Ariel the little mermaid and that these were my companions! Yes I know I'm sad!) They were fully in-tacked biologically. Not wanting to look like a tit and trying desperately to show how amazing I am in the kitchen I chopped off the heads of my underwater friends, cut off their tails and fins, and finally ripped out their insides! Giving them a after-life massage with some lemon, salt and pepper I wrapped them in a towel of tin foil and stuck them in the fire pit for all of about five minutes. Its OK though they had three skewers of prawn-y pal's to keep them company whilst they steamed away. I was very impressed with myself and they tasted wonderful.
And goodness me the faux pas didn't begin their either as Friday night we all congregated at a posh local restaurant with the whole Cheese family out to celebrate Pappa Cheese's birthday. Apparently he is near to sixty but I myself cannot see how this is possible since both Momma and Pappa Cheese look so young. Very confusing. Nevertheless the moment come when I had to break the seal. choosing y moment carefully I politely excused myself from the table and made my way across the tinie-weenie restaurant floor to a door in which I thought would lead to a entrance and lavatories. I was taken aback however after entering through said door and noticing that it was an extension of the establishment and tonight was hosting a meeting. Obviously very important and not wanting to disturb such pressing matters I asked shyly where the toilets were. They looked at me with utter disgrace and contempt. The faces stared at me. I stared back. It was a tense battle of wills and I was literally shitting myself. After what seemed like an eternity of angry looks one spokesperson pointed to a door across the room and motioned me to go and inform me that I should not call them toilets I should call them lavatories. Not wanting to upset or disturb the committee any further I hurried along passed the glares. Only as I turned my back to leave I heard a little voice within the group of obvious villagers piped up and whisp-squeeked (Across between squeaking and whispering) "She called them toilets!" To which nearly made me wet myself right there and then. As I sat on said throne I took a moment to realise what had actually in real-life, really happen. Not only had I used the incorrect phrase to describe such an act of nature but I had also just walked in and through what can only be seen as a regular meeting held by the Federation of Fouling. Other witty names I came up with at the table included 'The Toilet Committee' and the 'Poo Police' - All of which gave at least a chuckle when I explained what was on the other side of the rightly coloured, brown door. Although on later reflection I realise now that they were all involved with SHITT - the Society Held In Toilet Terminology.
Laughs and giggles aside now though as I have a hectic week ahead of me! Tomorrow I am meeting up with Miss Chocolate to hear all about her life and liaisons. then on Friday is the first wedding of a friend - The marriage of Miss Bride and her fiancé whom I have both known for years and are a wonderful couple. Sunday I have the joy of spending it with my favourite ladies, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Stuu for a lovely, hopefully sunny day out in Brighton for Miss Tweedle-Dumb's Birthday! A busy weekend jam-packed with family, friends and fun. Finally though after what seems like forever I have a normal social life again. And this time it even includes some regular exercise.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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