Late Nights & Christmas Lights

Hi Everyone, 

Goodbye snotty nose, cough, and dry throat! For once I am sickness-free and finally totally back to little old me again. But that might not stay as I have my COVID booster booked in this week. 

Whilst we discussed last week that many more people have been not only singularly but doubly vacc'd, some people, like yours truly has even been offered a third vaccine to protect them from this disease and all of its variants and mutations. Government figures show that so far, 89% of people aged 12 and over in the UK have had their first vaccine dose, 81% have had their second and 36% have had a booster. The BBC confirms there have been more than half a million confirmed cases of coronavirus in the UK in the last week, however, the number of dead has not increased since my last blog post.

The British broadcaster's website explains in an article by James Gallagher, a Health and science correspondent, that whilst some scientists have described the new variant of  COVID19 (Omicron) as milder than earlier versions of Coronavirus, such as Delta. Although of course, it would not be fair to only listen and read up on one side of the argument. And so we need to establish that science in its very nature is rather subjective and as such, some academics in the Science industry have claimed that Omicron had such a long list of mutations that it was being described in articles as "horrific" and the worst variant they'd seen. 

Omicron, named by the World Health Organization, following the pattern of Greek code-names like the Alpha and Delta variants has now been detected in more than 30 countries and there are signs it may be able to bypass some of our immunity. Great! But a lot of mutation doesn't automatically mean: bad. It is important to know what those mutations are actually doing explains James Gallagher in the article. 

Whilst there are fears that Omicron could be more infectious and less responsive to vaccines personally feel as though the aforementioned "precautions" are being taken a little too prematurely. At least wait until scientists can properly assess what the new variant's impact could be and then jump into Hands-Face-Space-Repeat. But then I suppose if this did all blow up and went to shit we would all be blaming BoJo and his friends for not acting quickly enough. Like a lot of people I know, I am totally unnerved and somewhat untrusting of the government, especially after the shit show that was last Christmas and the close to years in totality we have now had to spent locked in, locked down, and isolated. 

All we can do is hope and pray and enjoy our freedom as it stands at the moment. And I did such that on Saturday even when, as always, I went for a nice relaxed and quiet catch-up with Miss Hackney and Miss Sugar-Coat. It was the first time since Mr Warehouse and I got married that I had seen Miss Sugar-Coat and I was excited to fill her in and hear all about her life too. But as it always happens (and I don't know why I thought this time would be any different) no sooner had our food arrived on the table at Baja, a casual Mexican restaurant in the heart of Bedford Town, we were already planning to leave. 

Not one to turn down an invite, Miss Hackney and I "joined" Miss Sugar-Coat and basically gate-crashed her work Christmas party. A good few hours of drinking ensued, several shots of Tequila and many bottles of wine and champagne, many we had not put our hand in our pocket for. It wasn't long before we were dancing on the top floor of some nightclub and stealing fresh air and conversing with all sorts of messy characters. As the night progressed, Miss Hackney and I left Miss Sugar-Coat and her colleagues to it and headed to another bar. Although we were refused entry to one, goodness knows why and nearly kicked out of another for smuggling in a bottle of Rose. Within a couple of hours though I was headfirst into a bin and remembering what my Chimichanga tasted like the first time. 

The following day I woke up, remembering how Mr. Warehouse was collecting our nieces and nephews this afternoon so we could have a Christmas craft day whilst their Mom and Dad helped "Santa" out with some last-minute bits. I had hoped that it would be a quiet afternoon in front of the telly, cuddled up with snacks watching The Grinch. I mean it worked for a little bit, and the crafts and colouring allowed me another hour or so but boredom was afoot. However, on noticing we have yet to put up our decorations there was soon "something" to do. Dreading it I was actually pleasantly surprised that the tree wasn't top-heavy being decorated all in one place with little hands. I was quite proud of my youngest Nephew, taking on the role of chief detangler of Christmas tree lights and deputy tree dresser. 

And so as I sit here now, dogs cuddled up around me and Mr Warehouse watching the football, we are sat here in the glow of the Christmas tree, all in the knowledge that had the kids not pestered me to get up from my pit and dress the house in Xmas joy and tinsel, then it would have been another weekend passing without decorations in our home. I don't know why they abolished child labour, they seem to have so much fun, and secretly, so did I. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

The best day of my life: Part II

Afternoon, 

Continued ...

It was already dark when I left my nail appointment. At nearly 7pm I was already an hour late for meeting the florist at the church and I still had to go and grab something for breakfast the following morning, pick up Miss Hackney and get back home to finish off Mr. Warehouse's final wedding gift, which I shan't disclose here as it is now going to be a Christmas present and by the time I got home at 8pm I thought fuck it I can't be arsed to finish it off and if I start it I won't stop until it's finished and I wanted a fairly early night. So when we arrived home back to the house I shared with Mr. Warehouse and our Doggo's the last thing I had in mind was eating or sharing a bottle of champers as Miss Hackney had suggested as she tucked into her pie and chips from the local chippy. It was coming up to nine and I was ready for bed. 

And so for once I declined the Friday night Prosecco and headed to the sheets. Showing Miss Hackney the bathroom and making sure she had everything she needed (although I did end up forgetting to get her a duvet for her night on the sofa) I settled down with the pooches in my marital bed, watched some murderous true-crime YouTube videos, and was asleep by about 10pm. Waking the following morning I couldn't sleep. Unlike normal, I awoke at 6am and couldn't get back to sleep. I was wide awake. I stayed like that for a good couple of hours, maybe drifting in and out of sleep, but mainly awake and thinking about what the day will bring before I am back with my head on a pillow, only next time it will be in a plush central Bedford hotel suite overlooking the River Ouse. But oh there was so much to come before then. Soon after waking, I could hear my phone buzzing. Zzz, Zzzz, Zzzzz. I knew it was Mrs. Tweedle Dumb. 

"You should be asleep," I messaged her, to which her reply was "Well so should you but I can't sleep, and neither can you for the excitement". It was true. More than anything I was just excited. Excited to see my fiance. Excited to see everyone. Excited to finally be able to enjoy all of my hard work with spreadsheets and payments and GoogleDocs from the last three years. I couldn't wait anymore. At 7am I messaged Miss Hackney from upstairs wanting to not disturb her if she was still sleeping. By 8am I could wait no longer and so headed down as quietly as possible. By the time I reached the couch, our little dog had already pounced on my Maid of Honour, probably forcing her from any sleep she was enjoying. 

Within an hour I was in hair and make-up, sat in my bridal pyjamas, having my hair curled and put up as we had planned. I had feebly attempted to eat some spiced Christmas jam on toast and only really managed a few bites, maybe half a slice at most. My mug of coffee too was still half drunk by the time the Make-up Artist arrived too. Soon enough the door was going every couple of minutes. In time, my mother-in-law and her boyfriend turned up with their dog (Frankenstein's sister). Confirming the details of the day she seemed confused and panic set in. 

"So you are to come to the church with our dogs for the family photos, yeah?" I confirmed with the boyfriend one last time "because I have cancelled the other people and companies that we had quotes from because you said several weeks ago you could do it". He nodded and agreed it would be no problem, bidding us farewell as he made himself scarce for a few hours before the ceremony. "OK see you in a few hours with our gorgeous fur babies," I said as I waved him off. The final few hours of Bridal Prep were leisurely paced as I flitted from MUA to the door and back again. Photographers, Videographers, Florist, Visitors and well-wishers. It was a busy morning, but we still had plenty of time to cram in a couple of bottles of Prosecco. 

Soon enough though it was time to get ready. For real this time. Stepping into my dress and with the help of my Mother-In-Law and Miss Hackney as my Maid of Honour, I became a bride. As I dialled Mrs Tweedle Dumb's number in Los Angeles I was nervous for her to get the first look. She was the first person ever to see me in all my get-up. All morning I prayed that she would be my next knock at the door. Alas it was only to be via WhatsApp video call but at least this was better than nothing at all. But then in a flash, the car was outside and it was time to step out into the fresh Autumnal sunshine. Walking out I saw my Dad turn and shed a tear with an accompanying smile. I was pleased that after everything we had been through that he was here, now, to take me to my Groom. As my Maid of Honour, Mother-In-Law and my Dad's Wife left for the church I headed indoors one last time to lock up and say one last see you soon to the dogs. I would only be seeing them again in an hour or so, but it still felt like something I should say goodbye for. Stepping into the wedding car I was excited and couldn't wait for my life to finally begin. I had expected the talk of "Are you sure you want to do this because it really isn't too late you know," to come from my Dad, but there wasn't, probably because he knew as well as I did that this was right for me. 

Standing at the church, blue skies and white fluffy clouds I had everything I could possibly want or need. Everything was just right. Perfect you might even say. As my father took my arm and we listened intently to what the reverend said I was excited to know that in just a few moments I would be seeing my husband. In just a few seconds I would be walking down the aisle, the one thing that has kept me going in my darkest of moments. In just a few minutes I would officially be changing my name and committing myself into marriage for the rest of my days. In just a few hours I would be leaving one family and joining another. 

"Are you ready to do this?" My father turned and asked me as Miss Hackney straightened me out and adjusted my veil over my face. Excitedly I quietly squeaked - Yes!

Walking into the church, organ starting to play my Dad and I walked through the huge archway and to the top of the aisle. As Dad went to step forward, I pulled him sharply back into alignment with me. I wanted to take it all in. I wanted to watch, look out and see all the faces and people who had joined us. I wanted to bask in this glory forever. I had thought of this moment at every difficult turn and twist in my life. Every evening on the bus home from college after I was kicked out of my family home, losing everything; I thought about that moment. Every time I broke down after yet another mean and hurtful phone call from my mother; I thought about that moment. Every night I cried myself to sleep from heartache following the break-down in my relationship with Mr. Workaholic; I thought about that moment. I thought about that moment and how sweet it would taste; How glorious it would feel knowing that all is right with the world. I made it. And there was my Husband, waiting, waiting for me. 

As the sun shone in through the medieval windows stained with biblical scenes and angels, tears began to fall from my cheeks as I became overwhelmed with emotion. It was then that I said out loud; "Ready" Stepping forward as I did so. It was second's really, maybe even milliseconds but it was something I am honestly so SO glad I did. Descending down the aisle I was slow and methodically stepping, as I had pretended to do so as a child with Mrs Tweedle Dumb and Miss Tweedle Dee. Fat tears were now rolling down my face as I desperately tried to compose myself. Soon enough I was there, standing next to my groom and noticing that he too had been and was now in fits of tears, although he will claim it was hayfever. 

The ceremony went beautifully, far more emotional and special and magical and personal than I could have ever hoped for or dreamt in my head. My new husband and I had to pause a few times throughout just to take it all in. This was especially so as we took a moment and stopped singing in our last song/hymn to listen, surrounded by the choir and hearing the backing vocals of our family and friends we simply took in the emotion behind the words we had chosen from Disney's Tangled OST, I See The Light:

And at last I see the light

And it's like the fog has lifted

And at last I see the light

And it's like the sky is new

And it's warm and real and bright

And the world has somehow shifted

All at once everything is different

Now that I see you ... 

Exiting the church as the bells rang out I looked up to the clear daylight. Searching the grounds of the church, however, I soon fixed my eyes on something that was not so perfect. There was my Mother-in-Laws Boyfriend standing a distance away so as to keep separate from the wedding guests due to his health complaints and risk of COVID, but with him was one dog, and it wasn't mine. It was his. He had failed to bring our fur-babies, our own little family, to greet us at the church. I was heartbroken. I felt so sad, knowing that in all of our wedding pictures there would be none of them. When they have both crossed over the rainbow bridge, it will be like they never even existed on our wedding day. Nothing. Admittedly he apologized at the time, but by then the damage was done. I was stood there in my dress and Mr Warehouse in his suit, I could hardly have kicked off. We can never get them back. We can never recreate that moment or what those images would have been. Never. I was, still am, devastated. 

We carried on with the day, enjoying a long and leisurely drive from the church to our reception venue at Stagsden Village hall where we were met by all of our wonderful friends and family. Petting and cuddling the farm animals we had hired as guest entertainment I was satisfied that people would be talking about our wedding for years to come. Goats, bunnies, Chicken's and a Pony, I bet you couldn't find another wedding like mine. Sitting to eat we roared with laughter and sometimes welled up as we listened to the lovely words and cracking jokes in the speeches. But as the night began to darken, and the daylight gave way to the moon I was sad that it was nearly over. Within moments we were cutting the cake and what feels like seconds later I was rick-rolling my Dad during the father-daughter dance (which came after my first dance with my new husband to which I yet again cried mostly throughout it all). 

All in a blink of an eye Mr Warehouse and I had swapped out doing shots of Tequila Rose, Cha-Cha-Sliding on the dancefloor and having sentimental moments outside with the likes of Mr CWG (basically thanking him since he was the whole reason we were all here today) and we were in the back f our white London Taxi Cab waving goodbye to our guests, off to Bedford's Mercure Hotel for our mini-moon and a few nights of wedded bliss before heading back to reality. Well at least until next week when we can submerse ourselves in newly-wedded bliss again as we head off on honeymoon! Egypt here we come!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

The best day of my life: Part I

Good evening, 

Did you miss me? Sorry for not posting last week, unfortunately I had come down with a terrible cold and was feeling super ill. I am almost certain that this time last week I was in bed by the time I am writing this now. 

So I will start from the beginning. The days following my Hen Do / Bachelorette weekend were agony and sore. Full of aches and pains I was still recovering as the sun shone down I arrived for my bridal shower, excited and looking forward to seeing everyone. The day went wonderfully with everyone looking beautiful and enjoying a lovely afternoon of crafts and creative fun with flower arranging and afternoon tea. I was sad that Mrs Tweedle-Dumb couldn't be there and I probably should have bought some more prosecco as it disappeared waaay too quickly (I have no idea as to why?!) but alas we had a lovely time and everyone's arrangements came out looking slightly different from the last but all looking beautiful. I think I may have even convinced some people to join me and my Nanny Pumpkin for what I hope may even be a yearly traditional Christmas wreath making. 

In the final few days before the wedding Mr Warehouse and I felt a wave of calm wash over me, that and maybe the flu-meds were kicking in. I had the perfect run up to our big day as I had hoped. Early in the week me and the now husband watched telly, curled up on the sofa with the dogs, cosy and under the warmth of blankets with an Autumnal candle burning in the background. A scene far from what my father had predicated and pictured following his own wedding. in 2019  But I prided myself on my planning skills and because I had been so organised and prepped, we had time for what was important to us, even if that was EastEnders and some cheeky choccies. 

Wednesday I finished work at midday, heading off for my afternoon errands, although not before I was stopped leaving the office and instead handed a bottle of fizz and a wedding card from the guys and gals in the office. A sweet thank you for inviting them and congratulations on finally getting hitched. It's strange, I sort of always imagined myself leaving one of my other office jobs to go off and get married but no, it was this one. My colleagues were lovely and I was looking forward to seeing them on Saturday night, and for them to probably not have me in their earholes every five-minutes about wedding stuff blah blah blah. 

Pulling up for my eyelash appointment I was surprised when not only did she tell me she didn't have me in for a full set (I had been incorrectly booked in for an infill) but I was also told that they cant d it due to needing a patch test 24-hours beforehand. Great! So after shuffling a few things around I was able to secure an appointment the following day. But oh but the following day was not going to be easy or slow at all. 

Thursday saw us 48-hours out from our wedding day and so we started early. We had a lot to do. First on the agenda was travelling up to Peterborough, approx an hour and a bit journey to drop off all our passport information. We had an 8am appointment so it was an early start, earlier than we normally get up for work. But it had to be done and if we wanted that Honeymoon in the Caribbean then we needed to get them renewed. Short stop off at Momma Warehouse's in the Cambridgeshire countryside to drop off her dress for the wedding and then back to Bedford for Mr Warehouse's barber's appointment, a spot of shopping and some lunch. Picking up the cast iron post box on the way home and swapping cars I headed off for my newly arranged eyelash appointment. Whizzing home afterwards I had just about enough time to pack up the cars ready for setting up the hall the following day before popping across the road to a lady who tidied up my eyebrows. 

At 6pm we arrived at church ready for the rehearsal. I was shattered. Truth be told the eyelash lady said I had fallen asleep during my appointment several times so it looks like I won't be going back there again. I was flustered and flapping. It was now just over a day left and we still hadn't arranged or organised the live feed from the church for my American friends and Mr Warehouse's eldest brother and his family who were still self-isolating due to fucking COVID. Rehearsal over and done with I was excited and a lot clearer and happier with how things were going to roll. 

Waking Friday morning and making the bed, I realised the next time I crept into there I would be spending my last night sleeping as a Miss. We had still so much left to do. Balloons to fill with helium, flowers to pick up for the cake and my god a whole effing hall to decorate. The day was long and after having to cancel my massage appointment and pushing back my nail lady by an hour we were done. Standing outside the hall I was excited and nervous and a little scared all at the same time as I said farewell to my fiance. The last time I would ever call him that for the next time I saw him I would be at the top of our aisle with all of our friends and families around us. Waving out of the window of our cars, we split, driving in separate directions but within a few short hours we would be reunited, this time as Husband and Wife. To be continued ...

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

Cluck, Cluck!

Morning Everyone, 

After finishing a busy day at work there wasn't enough time to hang around and chat with colleagues at the end of the week. I was off. I had a Hen weekend to get to. With my bags already packed for night number two in Milton Keynes, complete with toothbrush, Jammies, and my HURR Collective rental, the Ivory SELKIE Puff Ball Dress, I was certainly glad of getting my hair done on my lunch break. Yes a bit bouji, but when I had to get home, changed, make-up done and over to Kempston, all within an hour. Safe to say even with my hair done and outfit ready for the first night out of the weekend I was pushed for time and didn't rock up until gone 6.20pm. What is going on? I have no effing idea. All I know is that it is going to be a weekend of debauchery and naughtiness, and maybe a few willie straws thrown in for good measure!

Friday evening was started with strongly poured drinks, pic's for the gram, and a good catch-up with my old work colleagues. Being handed a huge blow-up doll (with no appendage), a sash, and a veil I was super excited. Taxi booked we soon were taking the party to a posh restaurant within a four-star hotel in Bedford. Pen & Cob, is the Swan Hotel's on-site British Brasserie, offering freshly prepared dishes throughout the day. Serving breakfast, brunch, lunch, and dinner, the selection of seasonal dishes were superb with most of them locally sourced, where possible. 

On their website, they state "We make sure our dishes are sourced from suppliers which have superb reputations for producing the highest quality meats and products. Such as working closely with Stickleback fish suppliers in Welham Green to ensure Pen & Cob has the pick of the market as soon as the boats come in." Soon enough though we headed to a few bars for cocktails and some more chatting shit about life before hitting the dancefloor's to dance the night away. 

As midnight approached a few of the girls left, dropping off as the night went on. By the time I knew it I was stood in The Standard at like 2am and I had a Jagerbomb in my hand. I knew this was wrong. I knew I shouldn't have done it. If truth be told, I felt a little pressured into it as the tubby man in a waistcoat and pocket watch (Yes I know - He claimed he was a "music producer" but seemingly the only musicians he could produce from his Instagram were a bunch of old drunks trying to relive their youth, his words not mine?!). The moment it rolled over my lips and into my mouth I regretted my decision and my lack of firmness in refusing it. 

Within seconds I looked at my old work colleague and I think she knew. I made my excuses that I needed to "make a call" and desperately tried to contain myself as I could feel the German drink slipping further down my body. I knew I only had mere moments before this bad boy was visiting my mouth for the second time. Just as I pushed my way into the ladies' bathroom, some girls congratulated me on my Hen Do but I couldn't reply. My drink had arrived. Again. Stumbling into one of the stalls it came up entirely and instantly I felt better. 

An hour or so later with just the two of us girls still standing and the blow-up man waining we decided to call it a night, although unbeknownst to me we had already made it mostly the whole night as it was 3am and kicking out time for most places. Heading to where Mr. Warehouse normally picks me up, there he was,, my knight in a shining silver car. After dropping my friend off, the future Hubby drove me over to Milton Keynes where I met a sleepy Miss Hackney at the AirBnB we had booked for my Hen weekend. Falling into bed I was shattered and within hours I would be back at it again. 

Saturday was started with Melon and Mango and a freshen up under the waterfall/rain shower. With mostly Mr. Warehouse's family turning up around 1pm we played some games to get to know one another (maybe a little too well) before heading off to our first activity. Arriving at the school setting, I must say it didn't give off immediate hen party vibes. It was still chucking it down with rain as it had been all morning and after being told that it was an adults sports day organized I was concerned as none of us had come dressed for outdoor weather. We all laughed as we joked that we couldn't possibly be doing it out in that weather, that was until we realized that the poor Uni-Student wasn't laughing. He was deadly serious. 

Marching straight up to the reception Miss Hackney nearly unleashed all her Shoreditch-Shit on this bloke, demanding he either found us somewhere inside to do the games or refund us everything. Suddenly there was a dance studio free. We all piled in and just as we did the rain had knocked out the power, leaving us in a darkened room. But this didn't dampen our spirits as we chugged down our mini bottles of rose and donned sweatbands, twerking and limbo-ing our way through the afternoon before heading back to the apartment to get ready for the night-time fun!

Unbeknownst to me, we were due to be doing cocktail making and then a nice meal before heading off to the clubs of MK but after the cocktail making and meal had fallen through as the venue had an outbreak of COVID, Miss Hackney had a job of finding something to take its place. That is when she stumbled upon Bistro Live. With the entire night taken care of and all under one legendary roof, I can see why. After a tasty meal, our night was jam-packed with fun from 7pm all the way through to the early hours, all accompanied by the attentive team looking after our every need, there was no queuing at the bar for drinks and much more time to party! And because it is the world-famous Bistro Live we were even allowed to dance on tables and chairs, grinding and groaning the night away all in the knowledge that the thighs that hurt from the Adult P.E Session earlier were going to be even worse tomorrow morning.

Waking Sunday morning and checking out of the AirBnB was hard. Not because there was no life and we had tonnes of stuff. Not because Miss Hackney was absolutely hanging out her arse. Not because we had to tidy up the place from the night before. But because I knew it was over. That was it. My Hen Do. All done. Finished. Over. No More. I was sad. I think I have Hen-Do-Blues. Is that a thing? Well, at least I can say I had an incredible weekend and all thanks to some amazing friends who pulled through for me when others hadn't. I enjoyed every moment of it and drank so much I am surprised I could remember where I was let alone who I was getting married to. All in all a great weekend with great company. At least I can still say I can hack two nights out on the Trott, and if anything I could have probably even managed a third! Roll on the wedding!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Remember, if you would like to purchase anything then please feel free to check out my store at: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/Wooftys or visit our Instagram @WooftysDogTreats and use "TATOATS21" to get 10% off your first order over £15.00.

Last Year of my Twenties ...

Evening, 

Strolling into the office, I was feeling excited I had less than a few hours left before a weekend of fun and birthtday activities. Friday was my 29th year on the planet, gracing you all with my precence (haha) and I was certain to make the damned most of it, COVID or not! And so after a dental appointment Thursday afternoon I poured myself a nice big glass ofof the good stuff and enjoyed a night of telly, all in the knowledge I would be jam-packed with people to see and places to go come tomorrow. 

Friday morning came soon enough though and just like the good old days I dropped Mr Warehouse to work, but not before a cheeky McDonald's Breakfast. The start to the day of kings, or at least this one. Double sausage and egg McMuffin meal with a large toffee-nut latte and side of hash brown. Winning! Once back at home I settled in for the morning as the sun continued to rise, watching crappy daytime TV and snoozing with the pups, all before heading out for a spot of what I hoped would be lucrative Halloween shopping however proved fruitless. But the best was yet to come as arriving back home I had a treat in store, well for my oven at least. 

Ever since moving in (nearly two-years ago now) Mr Warehouse and I have been meaning to clean the oven. I know, I know. It is a horrible dirty little secret but telling you all I am sure I am not the only one who has had every intention of sitting there on the kitchen floor of a weekend afternoon, desperatly trying to work out how the oven door comes off whilst the wire racks and trays sit on the counter-top fizzing in bicarb and vinegar. Alas, my future husband and I had all the best ideas when purchasing Oven Pride over 18-months-ago, but there is always something (anything) better to do of a weekend than spent scrubbing on all fours trying not to get bummed into the cooker Hansel and Gretel style by lover boy over there. And so I bought a service so that they would come along, clean and srub all my dirtiness away and leave it gleaming so I can (now) stay n top of it so I dont have the embarressment of calling someone out again and having to lie (unconvincingly) through my teeth that it was only cleaned six-months ago. 

Following the collection of Mr Warehouse we headed home for a bit until it was time to leave for some QT with Miss Tweedle-Dee. Although on arrival her new gaff was packed with her Mom, Dad and not-so-little brother as well as Miss JoHo (now not a Jehovahs Witness). Lots of alcohol followed with some good laughs and giggles. But turning 29, the last few days on the run-up had been reflective. This will be the first year without my Scottish Grandmother and her force of nature was certainly missing from my life, something I have been feeling more now that I ever did before. I dont know, maybe it is the fact that unlike when my Granddad passed away, I still continue to get birthday and Christmas cards from my Nanny Pumpkin, they just dont have the inclusion of "and Granddad" at the end. But this year, it will just be nothing. No "lots of love and hugs and god bless". No funny tongue in cheek card. No money wrapped up carefully in tinfoil. Nothing. And since Scottish Granda' passed long before I knew of grandparents and the impact they have on a growing human, this is the end of an era. 

Saturday my head was fuzzy to say the least, but continuing with the fun (and after doing menial tasks like lumping our old triple wardrobe about the place for someone who came to buy it) Mr Warehouse and I headed off to Bedford Town Centre for something I had wanted to do for ages ... Bottomless Brunch. As the Slug and Lettuce website confirms, "brunch is one of the most important meals of the day" and paired with bottomless bubbles the experience all the more better. Lasting two hours, on arrival Mr Warehouse and I joined our old work colleagues Miss Hackney & Miss Sugarcoat dined from a simple brunch menu choosing Eggs Benedict of course, however the less than attentive team were slow and it wasn't lng before we were ordering two-at-a-time-mimosa's. 

But I couldnt get so shit-faced, I had to go dinner with my Dad and his wife, now of over a year would you believe it? A family run countryside English Inn, The Carrington Arms is situated in the picturesque village of Moulsoe, about a ten-minute journey by car from our home in Cranfield. I had been itching to visit the award winning restaurant for a while now but it was always fully booked during the whole "Eat Out to Help Out" thing in August and after mentioning it in passing my Dad had said he would book a table for my birthday. 

Ariving early I made Mr Warehouse take some pictures of me in my denim jumpsuit finery amoungst the Insta-worthy grounds, all before meeting our dinner guests and walking through into the bar, adorned with a huge selection of gin bottles, towering up the walls as well as draught beers, lagers, real ales and an extensive, handpicked wine list. Sitting down we chatted about my Dad and wife's recent holiday to Northern England including Durham and York, somewhere me and Mr Warehouse would love to travel to again. 

Starting with a Mango and Passionfruit gin I followed it with my favorite starter - Deli Carpaccio of Seared Bedfordshire Beef Fillet, Charred Cucumber, Filo Brick Pastry, Smoked Mustard Mayonnaise, Dill, Pink Pepper & Shaved Pecorino. Following that, my main had to continue the same caliber and since the restaraunt served locally raised Bedfordshire Beef (sold by the gram I might add) I just had to try some, although I was disappointed to discover that in "normal times" pre-Corona you could ahve gone and selected your own steak and watched it being cut and cooked on our charcoal grill. Washed down with plenty of good wine I was far too full from brunch and bubbles plus dinner to even entertain a dessert and so I have just booked to return soon and certainly so for our traditional Christmas eve meal out. 

A few drinks with some of Mr Warehouse's family to see one of the younger ones off to Uni in Liverpool ensued followed by our heads hitting the pillows and falling fast asleep. Most Sunday's are now spent lazing in bed watching Youtube before Mr Warehouse heads out to watch his (or really should be our) Nephew play football and this weekend was no different, I found myself chilling around the house and watching yet more documentaries on Dennis Neilson (self-consuming myself since the incredibly spooky and true-to-likeness docuseries on ITV called "Des" played by David Tennant - Uhh just fascinating you must watch it if you havent already), before heading over to see Brother and Sister-in-law, kids and the most adorable little puppy called Lola ever! 

Wrapping up the weekend in style, Mr Warehouse and I headed to French Affaire, a French inspired restaurant buried in the heart of quaint Stony Stratford near Milton Keynes. Meeting my Scottish side of the family it was nice to finally come full-circle and feel a little better about having my first birthday without my Scotch Nanna. Stepping into the beautiful restaurant I was swept away by the exquisite and elegant interior, including sparkling chandelier, living moss wall and plush furnishings, not to mention a sunny terrace area complete with flowers in full bloom. And unlike The Blossom Room in Milton Keynes Miss Tweedle-Dee and I tried during August's "Eat Out to Help Out" thing, French Affaire's clean & simple cooking was full of flavour and you could tell that many of the ingredients were from local suppliers. Opting for something healthy (probably the first drink I had since Thursday that wasn't alcoholic) I chose a smoothie of blended carrot, goji berries, banana, mango and some other shit to add up to my five-a-day. Our late lunch was compromised of smashed avacado on Sourdough toast with poached eggs and chilli followed by the best Crepe I think I have had outside of France itself - Baileys, Oreo crumbles and White Chocolate sauce. Uh heavenly!

And so the rollercoaster continues into my finaly year of my twenties as some weeks I am good and others, like last week, I just want to tell Corona to do one. COVID-19 really has fucked everything, however unlike last week where I thought I had to kiss goodbye to dreamy Greek islands or lush Italian breaks; This week I am looking forward to the most incredble present I think anyone could get on their birthday - A FUCKING HOLIDAY!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Creation of Fear Pong

Evening, 

Heading out for supplies I was not confident in the evening's frolics. Ever since I had any remotely valid social life I have wanted a Halloween Party. Something to rival Heidi Klum's or Jonathan Ross's. Something people would talk about for months after and anticipate from the sunshine haven of Summer. As the years pass it would go from mad house-party to a family event the school gates would buzz about from September right through until half term. My family's costumes would be infamous, like Neil Patrick Harris and Co. 

Alas though, the first year I have held one, I was a little miffed at the turnout, or so I thought. Having a bit of a dramatic meltdown (who me?!) to my fiance a few nights before, I confided in him that not many people were coming. I knew his brother and his family would come with the kids, I also knew my bestie, Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss JoHo ould be in attendance along with Miss Tweedle-Dee's lil' bro and another friend. Miss Hackney would probably make an appearance hopefully and a couple from Mr. Warehouse's side of the family. But none of my work colleagues came, disappointingly, however not completely unexpected. 

Nevertheless, I felt much more in the "spirit" of things come that afternoon as we decked out the house in bats, cobwebs, Halloween bunting and more, some of which was all the way from the all hallowed place that is the Doller Tree (or at least I hope so as they look incredible) as Mr. and Mrs. Tweedle-Dumb indulged me for my birthday in sending back some schpoopy gifts that I could use at my party. Despite the distance, Mrs. Tweedle-Dumb would be a part of my first ever Halloween party. Now I know a lot of people go OTT with Halloween party decorations, I can see myself being one of them but this can be verging on tacky however my theory is that if you can't go hard on Halloween then you should go home as it is all about being over the top and ultimately spooky. Obviously with Halloween parties you can take two routes.. The first being the classic creepy, gore and blood route which is great for a festive, cliché type event - Something I would love to achieve in a classy event with posho cocktails and dry ice - something glamorous and stylish – definitely more of a treat than a trick.

Seven came and went, although I was anxiously awaiting the first guests. Dressed to impress I answered the door to our first guests, arm in arm with my little Frankenstein, complete with doggy dress up as a bat. Me? I was dressed in red, jet black wig and red veil, along with Mr. Warehouse in a black suit, green hair and purple sunken eyes, we were the Beetlejuice Bride and Groom - Betelgeuse and Lydia! Although this is maybe not one of our best ones, I certainly think it was a good going and certainly something I have wanted to do for a while. I had considered on a theme, say 80's slasher films or Hollywood's golden age, however, I felt as if this would put people off even moreso of a party where they have to dress up and make a bit more of an effort than normal. I mean of course I could do something like this in time, however Halloween is already so diverse, as long as your dead you can make it work but you know that there is always some lazybones that takes this as a way out and barely dress up at all!

Another thing I would have done if I was really hardcore about it and I wasn't using this as an excuse to drink at home would have been spooky food. Catering, I feel, can really make or break a party and give an excuse for people to chat and talk and mingle whilst snacking, especially to break up any awkward silences with the weird guy that has danced over for a chat. Themed food and DIY's are a great way of adding personal touches and a “center-piece cake” is an almost must, especially something like cupcakes as it’s something that can be given to kids and adults alike and is easy to eat whilst on the move around the room. Food dye and shape cutters are a godsend for amateur cooks such as myself and who normally screws their Pinterest creations up. 

As the night continued, the drink flowed and I most certainly was not counting the Slimming World Syns in the prosecco, or the gin, or the mini sausages I was stuffing down my throat. The highlight, among the many that were had to be teaching my future niece and nephew play "Fear"-pong, a spooked spin on Beer-Pong whereby my niece and nephew would do the pinging and the ponging bit, and the tag-teamed adult would do the drinking. Basically, the kids made us all bladdered. Yes - Definitely a highlight and probably one of the best ideas Mr. Warehouse had. Suffice to say that as a direct result of said drinking game, myself, Mr Warehouse and my other guests were perfectly pickled and come witching hour, I was gone. As the party wound down and the guests dwindled I found myself in my bathroom, looking after a friend of Miss JoHo's who had his head in the toilet bowl. Next thing I knew, I was pushing him out the way to get to the next biggest vessel for my own bile. 

By Midnight I was in bed, tucked up, listening to the rest of them get sorted out and heading to the land of nod too, and all thanks to Miss Tweedle-Dee and Mr Warehouse. I think that despite my reservations, and nearly cancelling at one point, I am glad I didn't, persevering and throwing what will be now known as the Halloween Party of the year!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Fast and Furious of Adulting

Evening All, 

Following last week's final adventures in my little Vivienne, she is awaiting her final journey to Car heaven as is still on my driveway. The 2011-plate little orange Ford Fiesta, with her five-door hatchback body and a 1.4L engine she certainly was everything I had ever hoped for in my first car. Viv's multi-functional steering wheel, automatic headlights and rain sensors I was please that I had experienced my first real taste of the open road in her. But alas all good things must come to an end and this week and I will hopefully be welcoming in a new car to my driveway, other than the swanky black Vauxhall Corsa I have had the pleasure of driving for the last few days. 

After a heavy night of drinking, dancing and laughing with Miss Hackney and Miss Sugar-Coat, I was not sure I could even look at a car, let alone drive one. But nevertheless, taking time out on Saturday to have a race day with my fiance, Mr Warehouse, at the Bruntingthorpe track in the Harborough district of Leicestershire was certainly one way to get over a fragile head. The best way though, Im not so sure!? A Christmas present from last year from Mr. Warehouse, he had certainly been listening to me when I was banging on about driving a fast car round a race-track. And so I drove the hired Vauxhall Corsa through the country lanes and even avoided a few horses on the road not to mention the sheep crossing too. 

I had a fantastic day driving a Mazda MX5 race car. Complete with full roll cage, race suspension and mechanical backup, this was the perfect car for Bruntingthorpe Airbase circuit and has left me wanting more. And so I booked the Bae and me to experience a Ariel Atom Passenger ride where Mr. Warehouse and I hit the tarmac for a supercharged Ariel Atom. The Atom houses a Jacskson Racing Supercharged Honda i-VTEC engine. Stripped to it's bare essentials, a chassis, wheels, engine, gearbox and suspension gives the Atom a better power to weight ratio than the mighty Bugati Veyron. Experiencing one of the quickest cars with a 0.60 in less than 3 seconds was exciting and a great day out and was sure to get our adrenaline pumping. 

And after waiting patiently for the last few days I finally had the call I was expecting from the insurance company. Answering all the relevant security questions I prepared myself for the inevitable conversation of being paid barely enough to pay of my finance deal, let alone buy another car. 

"Sorry can I just get you to clarify that again for me?" I asked, desperately trying to process exactly what the call handler has just told me. 
"Yes certainly madam. So the car's total value is £8,500.00 give or take. Now obviously we have the insurance excess and a few admin charge that we need to take off before we pay the finance company. Although once the insurance company has paid off the finance deal and taken the relevant fees we will be transferring the remainder £4,200.00 over to yourself. Is this OK?" the call handler explained. I was shocked to say the least! Considering I had already bought and financed the car at quite a high rate of interest I was not expecting a single penny back to me at all. As long as the finance deal was settled in full be it partly an insurance pay-out and partly my asset protection insurance to cover the rest, I considered walking away from the situation washing my hands and starting afresh. 
"Hello? Miss? Are you there?" the friendly young gentleman said on the other line. Confirming some further details the the call ended and I expected to receive a email or phone call shortly after explaining that there had been a mistake in the finance settlement. 

However, less than a few hours later I received an email confirming exactly what I was told over the phone and that I should be expecting payment within the next forty-eight hours. Still in shock, I thought of didn't really believe it until I saw my bank account the next day which read a full four digits on my screen. Excited I started looking for my new car right away, all in the knowledge that I could receive a phone call any second telling me that I would need to hand my hire car back. This would probably have not been such a big deal had I been living in Bedford town center as before, however as I am now a country bumpkin living out in the sticks of Cranfield I have no choice but to need a car. Although I was certainly not going to be making the same mistake as I did last week when I eagerly called the insurance company so I could get the ball rolling following a message from the estimator's garage. 

Mostly over the last few days I have been spent looking online at car dealerships websites for any car that tickles my fancy. Obviously I am not looking for much in my next car however I would like some specifications I have since become accustomed to. Firstly on my shopping list is the price as I would like to keep it under the same value that I am already paying on a monthly basis. Secondly, I need the car to be at least a 1.4 engine as anything smaller would be taking a back step from my previous vehicle. Ideally I would like the car to be newer with less mileage on the clock. If I can continue with a petrol engine then that would be fantastic but it must be a manual, only for the fear that if I was to get an automatic with my lazy brain I would forget how to drive stick. Mod-Cons that I would be looking for may include a heated windscreen to save time in the wintery months, a  heated steering wheel for exactly the same reason and even a touch screen navigation system. 

However that being said, I think I may have already met my new car. Scrolling online I found a cute little Fiat 500L in red. The 1.3 liter, 5-door multijet needs to be moved closer for me to have a proper look around the car and even have a whizz around town but with just over thirty-thousand miles on it 2013 plate clock, it was certainly a steal at £140 per month on a Hire Purchase finance deal. 

Now I know what your thinking, walking away from this unscathed and essentially up n an investment, why didn't I consider a brand spanking new motor? The fact is that it would depreciate by over a third just by driving it off the forecourt which is and always has been a huge factor in why I chose second-hand over new not just the first time buying a car but also the second time too. With no noticeable damage or scratches to the paintwork and it's almighty diesel engine I am certainly looking forward to receiving my new car and hopefully having this one for good!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx 

Beware - The Stagsden Hag!

Evening All, 

Standing in the freezing cold and blustery wind that I thought was going to take me off like Mary Poppins, my frustration and anger was growing minute by minute that we sat in the car park of our future wedding venue, Stagsden Village Hall. For weeks I had been trying to arrange an appointment whereby I could view the building again with a fresh pair of eyes and alongside my fiance Mr Warehouse after we had booked it for our special day. Finally, after some communication issues, I was told that the original lady though we had met on site the first time that we viewed The Village Hall that she has now moved on and how work commitments meant she could not dedicate enough time to the running and upkeep of the village hall and its users. 

With this in mind, I had been put in touch with another lady who assured me that she would be here. The difference was that we were not alone and accompanied also by a potential caterer who had met us on site in order to see the facilities that he would be working with in order to give us some scope for a menu. 
"This was getting ridiculous" I raged to Mr. Warehouse and the caterer as the wind howled and I stormed around the property. It was now nearly half an hour later than planned and after getting up at the crack of dawn in order to make it for my 9:30am appointment, I was seriously vexed at being seemingly stood up. All things considered, the delay would not have been a huge problem had I been alone and had not consumed 4 bottles of wine the previous evening along with Miss Hackney who had come round for gossip and to offload on the week she had. 

Fragile to say the least I had been up until about midnight drinking only to then get up early the next morning in order to drive Mr Warehouse to work at approximately 5:30am. So yes, I am sure that my patience was quite thin anyway and my temper was wearing by each minute that slipped by. 
"I could have been in bed asleep, or binge-watching craft and life hacks on YouTube, or maybe even hitting the road for a morning run?!" I fumed to my entourage. So many more things that I could be doing better than standing around waiting for someone to turn up if at all. I was constantly calling the numbers that I had for the village hall which were only one or two. When no one answered I decided to email an urgent request to the contacts I had, and again to no avail. 

Just as we had discussed with the caterer that there was to become a time where none of us could wait around all day, a large red people carrier came bungling into the gravel car park and out stepped a woman in her mid-thirties and a gentleman about ten-years-older. She asked for my name and said that she was here to set up for a party the following day. I jokingly said with a little bit of annoyance in my voice that I hoped she had a number and had prearranged an appointment since no one had actually turned up for ours. The lady and gentleman explained that they had booked the whole the following day for a party and that they were there today to set up in preparation and to collect the keys. 

It was at this point that I started to get angrier and started to wonder if something sinister had happened. Just as the caterer had come to say he was unable to stay any longer a silver sports car come whizzing into the gravel car park, nearly missing some of us standing around and pulled up to a halt outside the front door. Out popped a chirpy retiree who had mentioned "good morning". Barely being able to hold back after waiting around for nearly an hour I marched over and asked what had happened which made her late for our appointment. She scowled back at me the caterer and Mr Warehouse and proceeded to explain that our meeting was at 10:30am and she was not late. 

Taking a deep breath and mustering all I could by not wanting to smack a bitch in the face, I allowed her to open up the village hall as I explained that I was not the 10:30am appointment and that this was the poor woman and her gentleman friend behind me that had arrived on time to set up the venue. 
"Oh yes well there must have been a mistake and I do apologise but it is of course run by volunteers don't you know" was her response, to which I could handle no more. I made the gestures that we should probably rearrange a better and more suitable time that would be convenient for both of us since there was already someone setting up the hall to which the retired old hag just ushered us in and said to look around. I didn't feel comfortable and explained that the lady and gentleman in the car park had hired the hall and were clearly setting up for an event that they did not need anyone wondering around taking photos or getting in the way when they have hired and paid good money. On hearing this, however, the lady who was setting up the hall with her friend was quite sweet and had said they did not mind us walking around and taking photos if necessary as it was clear there had been a major misunderstanding. So nice! 

Accepting I walked off with my caterer in toe, dashing for the kitchen, Mr Warehouse following and maybe throwing a tut or sigh about the place as he went. However last Stagsden Village Hall is large in comparison to its other contenders we had on the list, it was no stately home and on many occasion, I kept bumping into either the lady and her gentleman friend setting up or the old bag herself. At some point, a group of two or three workmen came in to assess the state of the foyer to lay down some new flooring and then a few moments later another elderly gentleman joined the "Stagsden Hag", tinkering about with the Gas and Electric metres in the middle of the corridor. 

Frustrated beyond belief I think the woman figured that I wasn't best pleased that her and tried to stay out of my way. When it came time to leave I asked her for her mobile number so that this incident would not happen again. Yet again she ran off the bullshit spiel that this is "run by volunteers and there must have been a mistake", that was until I pulled up the email which clearly stated the date and time of which our appointment was. Now I acknowledge that as a side note I was probably a little ratty that day. A combination of very little sleep, lack of food and my bloodstream being made up of at least 30% Rose I was in a foul mood. Add in the fact that it was incredibly windy and very cold as well, all whilst I was on time (which anyone who knows me knows this is a rarity in itself) and someone else was late. I suppose in a way that I have blown this a little out of proportion but the way I see it is that I am sure I will laugh about this in years to come however at the moment I am still narked. Mr Warehouse and I left there Saturday morning, hoping against all hopes, that the "Stagsden Hag" would not be the one handing over our keys the day before our wedding next year. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx 

Difficult Roads Often Lead To Beautiful Destinations

Suup, 

I never thought that I would have festival blues like I did at Reading Festival back in 2014, oh boy do I have a big come down from the glitter and frolics of a festival atmosphere. Truth be told I didn't think that I would have enjoyed myself or looked forward to the Bedford River Festival as much as I did. Maybe it was the drib's and drabs of family and friends throughout the weekends festivities that made it as good as it was, or maybe it was just simply down to the fact that I felt much better than I have done in the last few months. I suppose that the reality is that next time the Bedford River Festival comes around we will be living in our new home and who knows what life might be like then. although I am sure that there will still be a place for some glitter and denim shorts to enjoy the drumming music, incredible smelling food and host of activities and things to do and see. 

With the last few months being a bit of a whirlwind in terms of emotions and life events, I decided a couple of weeks ago that I would book a few days off at the end of the month after payday in order to have a little bit of me time for rest and recuperation. Suggested by several of my friends including Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat who I have met up with a few times over the last couple of weeks, I think a few days to relax and take time for myself will be beneficial and can only do me some good. I have a few things planned such as some nice lye-in's and watching telly. On Wednesday I will be getting my hair done which maybe doesn't seem like such a big deal but for me a relaxing afternoon in the hairdressers chair is just what I need. Maybe afterwards I might take a trip over to one of the retail outlets a few miles out of town in order for some retail therapy and a treat or two.

Thursday's plans will consist of going to my usual counselling sessions and therapy, however this week will be the first of the NHS Treatments. In the afternoon I also have a doctor's appointment in order to discuss my ongoing medication and going forward with my diagnosis. Whilst the medicine I am on has finally stopped making me feel queasy and nauseous, I haven't stopped taking them as I know that this is something I need to continue in order to build up it's effect, regardless of how I feel much better and more back to normal. I know that coupled with counselling and therapy I will get better it will just maybe take a little bit longer. 

Friday is what I am really looking forward to as I will be accompanying Mr Warehouse to a spa in London. Courtesy in part to Nanny Pumpkin's Christmas present to Mr Warehouse and I we will be enjoying a gorgeous fruit platter as well as some relaxing treatments. I think just simply having some time just for us will be nice as I think life just takes over and before you know it it has been weeks since you have spent time with each other. 

I know after spending Sunday afternoon in the sunshine with two of my favourite people, Nanny Pumpkin and Mr Warehouse, I realise the heartbreaking reality that whilst my Grandma is doing her own thing and thoroughly enjoying life skipping off here, there and everywhere, I know in reality by the amount of times my grandfather was mentioned that she does miss him. Listening to Miss Hackney and Miss Sugarcoat their own grandparents and how their lives have been affected since one of them had passed away made me want to spend time, and quality time at that with Mr Warehouse whilst we have the chance to do so before mortgages and family life takes over. 

This is a happy time where we should be excited about finally getting a home of our own and looking forward to putting our own stamp on the place, although I think Mr Warehouse would agree with me when we both say that life has not been the easiest for us at the moment. It has been a poisonous melting pot of complicated issues including my mental health, Mr. Warehouse's skin condition and his own health worries all mixed together with a good helping of work issues and family problems, sprinkled with the stress of buying a house and preparing to move home. When the Devil on my shoulder tells me that it is going to be very expensive and makes me question as to whether Mr Warehouse and I can afford it, I must remember all of the other times that I thought or wondered how I would ever afford what I wanted in life. I am sure that I will look back a year from now and wonder as to what exactly I spent my money on. 

It terrifies me to think that I will have to depend on someone else both financially and in the general upkeep and running of the house in Mr Warehouse. To say that things have been tense or highly strung has been a understatement and I would say Mr Warehouse and I have argued more than we have ever in the last few months than we ever have in the last three and a half years we have been dating. But for all the snippy comments or playful bickering that happens between us I cannot fault Mr Warehouse for his support and love over the last few months, holding me up high when I was down in my lowest points and making me feel so loved and wanted it's unreal. I don't think that there is literally anything that his arms couldn't cuddle away and I know that whatever life throws at us I will be able to deal with it just as long as I have him by my side, wiping away the tears and making things better for as long as we have ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx