Heyy,
With many wedding plannings afoot, Mr Warehouse and I decided to take a break and head to London for the day, partly to celebrate Valentines Day, our last as a Fiancee and Fiance, but also as a Merry Christmas Pressie to our Beau. I had promised him that I would take him to go and see his favourite Disney film in theatres - Mary Poppins! As the website suggests Disney and Cameron Mackintosh’s have collaborated in order to create a multi-award-winning musical. Playing at the Prince Edward Theatre, this is the timeless and magical story of the world’s favourite Nanny. Being triumphantly and spectacularly brought to the stage with dazzling choreography, incredible effects and unforgettable songs. MaryPoppinsOnStage.co.uk goes into detail about the cast, starring Zizi Strallen, returning to play the title role following great acclaim on the recent sell-out international tour along with co-stars Charlie Stemp as Bert, Joseph Millson as Mr Banks, Amy Griffiths as Mrs Banks and the legendary Petula Clark as The Bird Woman. "The stage production of Mary Poppins is brilliantly adapted from the wonderful stories by PL Travers and the original film. It is co-created by Cameron Mackintosh and has a book by Oscar-winning screenwriter and Downton Abbey creator, Julian Fellowes. With a timeless score by Richard M Sherman and Robert B Sherman including the classic songs; Jolly Holiday, Step in Time, Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious and Feed the Birds with new songs and additional music and lyrics, including Practically Perfect, by the Olivier award-winning British team of George Stiles and Anthony Drewe."
However, as we attended the third ticket office we were met with the same response, and unless we were willing to pay over £150.00 PER TICKET then we were in no way going to be able to afford such an affair. Unfortunately the combination of booking slightly last minute and more so the fact of it being half-term holidays for kids, Londoners or otherwise, it was going to be damned impossible to get any sort of supposed discounted or cheap tickets. Disappointingly I accepted that it was not meant to be, but promised Mr Warehouse I would take him to see it again soon, maybe a weekday evening, before the play shuts for good in June 2020.
Instead, we decided to grab Costa Coffee (well I did). Indulging in the new Valentines Day inspired drink, made with Ruby cocoa that gives the drink a stunning natural rose pink colour - The new Ruby Hot Chocolate. Infused with sweet berry flavours, crowned with a swirl of cream and finished with red shimmer chocolate curls it certainly was not Slimming World friendly.
Following our little pitstop, I decided to take my future Husband to the wondrous world of Borough Market with all its tidbits and nibbles. As its website reveals, Borough Market is rich with history, but it remains as relevant now as it has ever been. As London’s oldest food market, it has been serving the people of Southwark for 1,000 years, and that extraordinary heritage is an important part of its appeal. However, despite the array and variety of the food on offer, it was far, far too busy for Mr Warehouse to even entertain eating something overpriced and Hipster and so we left, empty-handed and slightly hungry.
Next stop, throughout the horrendous weather storm Dennis was inflicting on us and the rest of the country was the Tower of London. Included in the ticket price (which we used a 2-for-1 offer, I ain't made of money) are captivating stories of pain and passion, treachery and torture on the Yeoman Warder tour, a chance to meet the famous ravens and discover why they are known as the guardians of the Tower and a once in a lifetime opportunity to see the breathtakingly world-famous collection of 23,578 gemstones and crowns of the state.
The weather truth be told was horrid, that frustrating combination of spitting rain and high-speed winds that made for a pretty miserable day out in the City. And so, following our visit we headed to the tube in search of Absurd Bird in London's Soho District, something I have been begging to take Mr Warehouse to ever since I first tried in in Bath with Miss Tweedle-Dee during our trip to HMP Shepton Mallet (Haunted Happenings at Her Majesty's Pleasure). Advertising itself as "Deep South Fried Chicken, Wings, Waffles & Cocktails", Absurd Bird hit the spot, even for a weary Mr Warehouse who selected a Chicken burger and onion rings. For me, I was yet again met with disappointment as the waiter informed me that there was no deep-fried Babybel on the menu and that this was taken off several months ago, much to my dismay. Instead, I drowned my sorrows with an ABBuffalo Chicken Burger with spicy buffalo sauce, garlic mayo, lettuce, tomato, blue cheese served in a brioche bun with a tangy carrot & celery slaw. This was all washed down with a BOGOF cocktail, The Green Jubel: Vodka, melon Midori, kiwi syrup & apple juice. Shaken hard with lemon juice & fresh apples - Simply Delish!
Heading home I was glad to be back in the 'Shire. Despite the darkness and black of the now night sky, I was glad to be out of the rat-race-mentality of the Big Smoke. Now don't get me wrong, I would never admit it, but I am glad I didn't follow my earlier dream of working in the city as a 20-something. I very much doubt it would be all Bridget Jones and Notting Hill, more likely than not I would have been stuck out along the ends of the tube, ages from the hustle and bustle. I would have grown tired of the corporate events, meetings and high-powered nature of business. Now whilst I imagine the money being good, maybe very good, I eventually would have grown frustrated with the price of everything including socialising and eating out, not to mention the fact I would have never been able to afford my own home. Granted the dating scene would have been plentiful, but I would soon have eaten through the Tinder profiles and POF dates, only adding to my city-frustrations.
Yes, certainly glad to watch from afar and enjoy city living for a few hours, maybe even a few days, but I am always glad to return to the greenery of home and the peaceful surrounds of Cranfield. Yes, I could have gone to the City, earned my money and come out again, possibly even man in toe; But I know I would have gotten far too used to the pennies and would have ended up living out the rest of my days in the smog of London, miserable and bitter not looking at people or making eye contact with whilst on the tube, all after I have raged on Instagram about having to wait 2 minutes for the next tube.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Money. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Money. Show all posts
Monday, 17 February 2020
Monday, 17 June 2019
Deposits And Departure Gates!
Heyy,
In a few days from now, I will be probably writing from you in the hotel lobby or maybe by the pool of our holiday apartment in the centre of Malaga, Spain. Sipping on cocktails and sunning myself in the warmer weather I will certainly be glad of the break, especially since it has been a couple of years since mine and Mr Warehouse's Tenerife break! What with saving for a house, my mental health issues and every spare penny going towards our new home Mr Warehouse and I decided against a summer break in 2018. That being said it was not exactly planned this year either, what with the wedding less than a year and a half away now I expected to be ploughing every penny we had not only into our new home but also towards the wedding of our dreams. That would have been the case until Mr Warehouse gave me an ultimatum back in the dreary depths of March. "What will you do with the money?"
It all started when we moved out of our little starter flat in Bedford town centre. We had just received our new keys when we had noted that days earlier paid our rent for the next month up until the end of November 2018.
"Don't suppose you could give us half of it back and we can be out in a fortnight?" I asked my Landlord cheekily. He didn't agree, although I knew he wouldn't. I had, along with my new fiance, a month to move our things out and clean the property ready for the Landlord's new tenants. Clearing most of our stuff in one weekend we made sure to give the flat a good solid three days worth of cleaning, scrubbing every skirting board, every wall, every tile to make sure it was spotless.
I had been relying on my £400.00 deposit money coming back to me before we had bought a lot of the home stuff we needed and as Christmas approached it would have been nice to maybe go somewhere or just have a more enjoyable festive period, especially after the year Mr Warehouse and I had just battled. And on checking out with the Landlord everything seemed to go swimmingly. There were a few items that needed to be collected and taken care of furniture wise however on returning the keys the Landlord mentioned that the carpet may need changing and he agreed that he would find a few quotes and be in touch with a price so I knew how much of my deposit would be used, something we reluctantly agreed to. As the festivities got underway Mr Warehouse and I was able to even steal a weekend away to Bournemouth with our eldest. Soon enough Christmas arrived as did New Years and without a moments thought I realised it had been well over six weeks and I had still to hear anything from my ex-landlord regarding my deposit and what he thought was appropriate for a carpet that needed replacing waaaay before I moved in.
I called and called and called but nothing; texting every time I left a voice mail, just in case he was out of the county or not able to answer a call. After several weeks I tried emailing, however the email I had just kept bouncing back. Hell, even Mr Warehouse had gone round to the Flat after work some nights just on the off chance he may be there but still nothing. Clutching at straws at the beginning of January this year I called the estate agents that originally dealt with me in letting the penthouse flat in the same block. They were helpful and put me in contact with the DPS, Deposit Protection Scheme. Since April 2007, a landlord must put the deposit for the property you are renting into a government-backed tenancy deposit scheme (TDP). This gives the landlord or letting agent's assurance that the tenants will meet the terms of the tenancy agreement, not cause damage to the property and pay the rent/bills.
Finding out where my deposit was the first thing, next was trying to get it back. I found out, again through the helpful lettings agent, that my landlord must have returned my deposit within 10 days of us both agreeing how much you’ll get back. Since it was January and I had heard absolutely nothing since I handed back my keys there was only one thing left to do - Raise a dispute. I was told it would be pretty easy since it was clear that I had made every effort to try any other means of getting this resolved and had the texts and phone calls to prove it. And so I put pen to paper (well fingers to keyboard really) and filled in the online application form with ease. A few days later I had a response and was told that the Landlord / Agent would have a right of reply and that this would be allowed up until the beginning of February, three-weeks away. Should what I thought the inevitable would be and that there was no response from the Landlord then the DPS would look in favour to the tenant and in most cases award the full amount back to me. I was anxious but confident I had done everything I could.
Within a day or two of logging a deposit dispute, I had a text from my ex-landlord, asking if we could meet at the property the following day to discuss the deposit issue and collect the "piles of post that was building up". I explained that the following day was not convenient and since I had been trying to get ahold of him for months now that he would have to wait until the weekend when Mr Warehouse and I would be free. I never heard back.
Friday afternoon of that week came and I received another text message asking about the time Mr Warehouse and I would be meeting my ex-landlord at the property. I explained that since I had not had confirmation that I had assumed it was inconvenient and had made other plans for the weekend. I had instead agreed that I could meet him at the property, along with my fiance after work that day but that we needed to be finished by a certain time as we had somewhere to be, a lie but I didn't want to be waiting around for hours.
Incidentally, on arriving at the flat, rushing there from work in 4pm traffic, my ex-landlord still did not show up for a further forty-minutes, only to arrive and announce he had forgotten the keys so needed to return home to fetch them, delaying the meet by a further half hour or so. During which time I took a look through the windows of my once precious abode. I was horrified to see that in the darkness of that January evening my ex-landlord had completely decked out my old gaff with new carpets and even painted the walls. Terrified he was going to try and charge me all of this, I thought it best to call the TDS and get some advice on how best to proceed, considering I had already filed a dispute. They explained that despite the ex-landlord fully fitting the flat out he would not be able to put that charge to me, even if they were cashmere carpets and golden paint (of which they were certainly not)!
It was at this point that I also found out to my shock that legally my ex-landlord could not ask for any of the deposit to be used on the downstairs flat. You see, when I first moved into the block I rented the top floor 1-bedroom apartment and loved every moment of it. I paid a £400.00 deposit and then a year or so later when the ground floor property came up for rent I initiated a conversation to my Landlord and asked if I could have the first refusal. He agreed and since I had been a good tenant and always paid my rent on time with never any issues he agreed that the deposit for the penthouse apartment would simply be used for the ground floor one and so nothing more was said. Although that had not been the case as the Landlord have never moved the deposits over and for the sake of a letter at the end of the numerals (I moved from A to B), there was nothing he could do.
And so as the van pulled into our old street again for the second time that evening I was relieved to know I had the upper hand and that every penny of that £400.00 I scrimped together for back in 2013 was coming back to me one way or another. A snotty and rather uncomfortable chat with the ex-landlord ensued, something in which I sound recorded on my phone simply for evidence should I have needed it. He accused Mr Warehouse and I of not cleaning the flat and leaving it in a "diabolical state" claiming that there were holes left in walls, paint jobs messy (from the tenant before me I must add) and that the carpets were threadbare and in need of replacement since they smelt like dog and were damaged. Offended I explained about how difficult it was to get hold of him and he brushed it off stating that it was "no excuse for how you left it". Some bully tactics took place and at one point he asked us about coming back to clean the oven, which in all fairness we had forgotten totally about until he brought it up.
"Well," I started, knowing I was fully going to fucking win this. "Considering we had not been able to reach you for several weeks that had turned into months, I was not wholly confident you were going to turn up this evening and even then I was not sure what to expect so, therefore, have not come equipped with any cleaning tools, however, if you would like both of us to come back at a later date and clean this and anything else we would be more than happy to do so." I finished. This caught him off guard completely and maybe expected me to roll over and just agree to be billed. It was at this point he made some excuse about not wanting the hassle and that he would just arrange it himself. On getting down to the crunch however my ex-landlord reeled off the long list of thing we had left for him to clear and clean up, mainly redecorating works which needed to be done really in order for the property to be let again in a reasonable state.
"I have had to pay out over £400.00 for the work I have done here and I would say I am being fair in only asking for half of it back from your deposit? Don't you agree?" the ex-landlord ushered to Mr Warehouse. My fiance, big and strong, chest puffed out like a peacock stood his ground and reiterated what I had said time and time again stating that this was out of our hands and that it was going through a deposit dispute with the TDS.
"Well, we only have to tell them what we want them to know," the ex-landlord said slimily trying to claw back some money from his crappy paint job and cheap carpet.
"Besides, who are they more likely to believe?" he ended. Then, awkward silence.
"We need to think about it" I ended the long period of silence with explaining it was now a joint decision and that I needed to discuss it with my new fiance and come back to him knowing full well I wouldn't and would eventually walk away with my money, rightfully mine.
And true to that, I did. A few weeks later I received an email in my inbox stating that despite timeline and numerous attempts to contact the Landlord /Agent even past the cut-off date for a right of reply, I was being awarded my full deposit back to me. The money landed in my account within a few hours. A couple of days after the TDS settled the claim I received a call from my ex-landlord. I was in the hairdresser's chair so could have answered but in any instance, I would have been at work and so screened the call. I listened to the polite and slightly sinister voice mail, demanding I contact him as a matter of urgency regarding the "damage" to his property and to discuss the "deposit issue" suffice to say that I did not return his call. Instead, I blocked his number and booked a holiday! Malaga here we come!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
It all started when we moved out of our little starter flat in Bedford town centre. We had just received our new keys when we had noted that days earlier paid our rent for the next month up until the end of November 2018.
"Don't suppose you could give us half of it back and we can be out in a fortnight?" I asked my Landlord cheekily. He didn't agree, although I knew he wouldn't. I had, along with my new fiance, a month to move our things out and clean the property ready for the Landlord's new tenants. Clearing most of our stuff in one weekend we made sure to give the flat a good solid three days worth of cleaning, scrubbing every skirting board, every wall, every tile to make sure it was spotless.
I had been relying on my £400.00 deposit money coming back to me before we had bought a lot of the home stuff we needed and as Christmas approached it would have been nice to maybe go somewhere or just have a more enjoyable festive period, especially after the year Mr Warehouse and I had just battled. And on checking out with the Landlord everything seemed to go swimmingly. There were a few items that needed to be collected and taken care of furniture wise however on returning the keys the Landlord mentioned that the carpet may need changing and he agreed that he would find a few quotes and be in touch with a price so I knew how much of my deposit would be used, something we reluctantly agreed to. As the festivities got underway Mr Warehouse and I was able to even steal a weekend away to Bournemouth with our eldest. Soon enough Christmas arrived as did New Years and without a moments thought I realised it had been well over six weeks and I had still to hear anything from my ex-landlord regarding my deposit and what he thought was appropriate for a carpet that needed replacing waaaay before I moved in.
I called and called and called but nothing; texting every time I left a voice mail, just in case he was out of the county or not able to answer a call. After several weeks I tried emailing, however the email I had just kept bouncing back. Hell, even Mr Warehouse had gone round to the Flat after work some nights just on the off chance he may be there but still nothing. Clutching at straws at the beginning of January this year I called the estate agents that originally dealt with me in letting the penthouse flat in the same block. They were helpful and put me in contact with the DPS, Deposit Protection Scheme. Since April 2007, a landlord must put the deposit for the property you are renting into a government-backed tenancy deposit scheme (TDP). This gives the landlord or letting agent's assurance that the tenants will meet the terms of the tenancy agreement, not cause damage to the property and pay the rent/bills.
Finding out where my deposit was the first thing, next was trying to get it back. I found out, again through the helpful lettings agent, that my landlord must have returned my deposit within 10 days of us both agreeing how much you’ll get back. Since it was January and I had heard absolutely nothing since I handed back my keys there was only one thing left to do - Raise a dispute. I was told it would be pretty easy since it was clear that I had made every effort to try any other means of getting this resolved and had the texts and phone calls to prove it. And so I put pen to paper (well fingers to keyboard really) and filled in the online application form with ease. A few days later I had a response and was told that the Landlord / Agent would have a right of reply and that this would be allowed up until the beginning of February, three-weeks away. Should what I thought the inevitable would be and that there was no response from the Landlord then the DPS would look in favour to the tenant and in most cases award the full amount back to me. I was anxious but confident I had done everything I could.
Within a day or two of logging a deposit dispute, I had a text from my ex-landlord, asking if we could meet at the property the following day to discuss the deposit issue and collect the "piles of post that was building up". I explained that the following day was not convenient and since I had been trying to get ahold of him for months now that he would have to wait until the weekend when Mr Warehouse and I would be free. I never heard back.
Friday afternoon of that week came and I received another text message asking about the time Mr Warehouse and I would be meeting my ex-landlord at the property. I explained that since I had not had confirmation that I had assumed it was inconvenient and had made other plans for the weekend. I had instead agreed that I could meet him at the property, along with my fiance after work that day but that we needed to be finished by a certain time as we had somewhere to be, a lie but I didn't want to be waiting around for hours.
Incidentally, on arriving at the flat, rushing there from work in 4pm traffic, my ex-landlord still did not show up for a further forty-minutes, only to arrive and announce he had forgotten the keys so needed to return home to fetch them, delaying the meet by a further half hour or so. During which time I took a look through the windows of my once precious abode. I was horrified to see that in the darkness of that January evening my ex-landlord had completely decked out my old gaff with new carpets and even painted the walls. Terrified he was going to try and charge me all of this, I thought it best to call the TDS and get some advice on how best to proceed, considering I had already filed a dispute. They explained that despite the ex-landlord fully fitting the flat out he would not be able to put that charge to me, even if they were cashmere carpets and golden paint (of which they were certainly not)!
It was at this point that I also found out to my shock that legally my ex-landlord could not ask for any of the deposit to be used on the downstairs flat. You see, when I first moved into the block I rented the top floor 1-bedroom apartment and loved every moment of it. I paid a £400.00 deposit and then a year or so later when the ground floor property came up for rent I initiated a conversation to my Landlord and asked if I could have the first refusal. He agreed and since I had been a good tenant and always paid my rent on time with never any issues he agreed that the deposit for the penthouse apartment would simply be used for the ground floor one and so nothing more was said. Although that had not been the case as the Landlord have never moved the deposits over and for the sake of a letter at the end of the numerals (I moved from A to B), there was nothing he could do.
And so as the van pulled into our old street again for the second time that evening I was relieved to know I had the upper hand and that every penny of that £400.00 I scrimped together for back in 2013 was coming back to me one way or another. A snotty and rather uncomfortable chat with the ex-landlord ensued, something in which I sound recorded on my phone simply for evidence should I have needed it. He accused Mr Warehouse and I of not cleaning the flat and leaving it in a "diabolical state" claiming that there were holes left in walls, paint jobs messy (from the tenant before me I must add) and that the carpets were threadbare and in need of replacement since they smelt like dog and were damaged. Offended I explained about how difficult it was to get hold of him and he brushed it off stating that it was "no excuse for how you left it". Some bully tactics took place and at one point he asked us about coming back to clean the oven, which in all fairness we had forgotten totally about until he brought it up.
"Well," I started, knowing I was fully going to fucking win this. "Considering we had not been able to reach you for several weeks that had turned into months, I was not wholly confident you were going to turn up this evening and even then I was not sure what to expect so, therefore, have not come equipped with any cleaning tools, however, if you would like both of us to come back at a later date and clean this and anything else we would be more than happy to do so." I finished. This caught him off guard completely and maybe expected me to roll over and just agree to be billed. It was at this point he made some excuse about not wanting the hassle and that he would just arrange it himself. On getting down to the crunch however my ex-landlord reeled off the long list of thing we had left for him to clear and clean up, mainly redecorating works which needed to be done really in order for the property to be let again in a reasonable state.
"I have had to pay out over £400.00 for the work I have done here and I would say I am being fair in only asking for half of it back from your deposit? Don't you agree?" the ex-landlord ushered to Mr Warehouse. My fiance, big and strong, chest puffed out like a peacock stood his ground and reiterated what I had said time and time again stating that this was out of our hands and that it was going through a deposit dispute with the TDS.
"Well, we only have to tell them what we want them to know," the ex-landlord said slimily trying to claw back some money from his crappy paint job and cheap carpet.
"Besides, who are they more likely to believe?" he ended. Then, awkward silence.
"We need to think about it" I ended the long period of silence with explaining it was now a joint decision and that I needed to discuss it with my new fiance and come back to him knowing full well I wouldn't and would eventually walk away with my money, rightfully mine.
And true to that, I did. A few weeks later I received an email in my inbox stating that despite timeline and numerous attempts to contact the Landlord /Agent even past the cut-off date for a right of reply, I was being awarded my full deposit back to me. The money landed in my account within a few hours. A couple of days after the TDS settled the claim I received a call from my ex-landlord. I was in the hairdresser's chair so could have answered but in any instance, I would have been at work and so screened the call. I listened to the polite and slightly sinister voice mail, demanding I contact him as a matter of urgency regarding the "damage" to his property and to discuss the "deposit issue" suffice to say that I did not return his call. Instead, I blocked his number and booked a holiday! Malaga here we come!
Monday, 3 June 2019
Work Hard, Shop Harder!
Heyy,
"Why am I up so early on a Saturday?!" I thought as I rolled over and tried to turn off my alarms before they woke Mr. Warehouse. Listening to my new addition cry and whine downstairs (and yes the puppy trauma through bedtime routines and trying to keep our little Frankenstein happy in his own company is still an issue) I remembered that today was the day Miss Tweedle-Dee and I visit the worlds biggest Primark in the heart of Birmingham's Bullring shopping centre.
Primark describes itself on its website as coming a long, long way since they opened back in 1969 under the name Penny's in Dublin (of which in southern Ireland it still operates under that name). Today, Primark operates in more than 330 stores in 11 countries across Europe and America. With the biggest share of the fashion market in the UK, Ireland, Spain and Portugal they are able to stand out from the crowd by offering amazing fashion at an amazing price. Being able to buy in volume from over 700 suppliers in 37 countries gives the store an advantage to bring us all quick and speedy trends in double-time and at rock bottom prices! Primark justifies its low prices with claims it spends nothing on advertising and has tight profit margins thus helping it to improve itself and thrive on an already suffering High Street in Britain.
Whilst Primark's reputation has not been glittering in recent years with criticism over staff pay as well as the environmental and social impact of so-called "fast fashion" it has stood the test of time as it opens its 187th store in the UK - The biggest one in the world. Set over five floors, the 160,000sq ft space once occupied the entire site of the former Pavilions shopping centre in Birmingham's New Street. The new store features Disney’s first officially licensed cafe located outside of its resorts and cruise ships, a barber shop called Mills x Primark, a beauty studio chain Duck & Dry Xpress, as well as Primark’s standard range of value clothing and accessories. Truly a one-stop-shop for everything to pamper yo'self!
Store design director Sanjay Dihman had no trouble explaining to retailgazette.co.uk as to why Birmingham was the chosen city for the world’s biggest Primark. With its completion rumouring to have cost around £70 million the store now employs more than 1000 people, 430 of whom were existing employees who have transferred from the former New Street branch. A further 500 brand new jobs were created, plus another 100 for partner-run in-store experiences including chefs, hair stylists and beauticians.
On arrival, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I headed straight to the top and to the new Disney-themed cafe which is strategically situated on the same level as the cute kidswear range I assume to attract families and keep everyone entertained as they wait in line for their Mickey waffles and pancakes. The cafe features a Mickey-Mouse-shaped entrance and digital tables where children are able to play games while dining in, not to mention TV's with Disney cartoons running all the time! Although one disappointment was the fact that the tables were jam-packed so tightly together it was very uncomfortable to be sat so close to one another, not to mention getting in and out. I say that our trip to the Disney inspired Cafe was brief, however, it still took well over twenty minutes to get a simple latte for my bestie. Although this was nothing in comparison to the poor lady sat next to us who had been waiting for her Mickey pancakes and waffles for her and her two children for well over 30 minutes before she asked for them a second and even a third time before finally demanding her money back and walking out!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Primark describes itself on its website as coming a long, long way since they opened back in 1969 under the name Penny's in Dublin (of which in southern Ireland it still operates under that name). Today, Primark operates in more than 330 stores in 11 countries across Europe and America. With the biggest share of the fashion market in the UK, Ireland, Spain and Portugal they are able to stand out from the crowd by offering amazing fashion at an amazing price. Being able to buy in volume from over 700 suppliers in 37 countries gives the store an advantage to bring us all quick and speedy trends in double-time and at rock bottom prices! Primark justifies its low prices with claims it spends nothing on advertising and has tight profit margins thus helping it to improve itself and thrive on an already suffering High Street in Britain.
Whilst Primark's reputation has not been glittering in recent years with criticism over staff pay as well as the environmental and social impact of so-called "fast fashion" it has stood the test of time as it opens its 187th store in the UK - The biggest one in the world. Set over five floors, the 160,000sq ft space once occupied the entire site of the former Pavilions shopping centre in Birmingham's New Street. The new store features Disney’s first officially licensed cafe located outside of its resorts and cruise ships, a barber shop called Mills x Primark, a beauty studio chain Duck & Dry Xpress, as well as Primark’s standard range of value clothing and accessories. Truly a one-stop-shop for everything to pamper yo'self!
Store design director Sanjay Dihman had no trouble explaining to retailgazette.co.uk as to why Birmingham was the chosen city for the world’s biggest Primark. With its completion rumouring to have cost around £70 million the store now employs more than 1000 people, 430 of whom were existing employees who have transferred from the former New Street branch. A further 500 brand new jobs were created, plus another 100 for partner-run in-store experiences including chefs, hair stylists and beauticians.
On arrival, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I headed straight to the top and to the new Disney-themed cafe which is strategically situated on the same level as the cute kidswear range I assume to attract families and keep everyone entertained as they wait in line for their Mickey waffles and pancakes. The cafe features a Mickey-Mouse-shaped entrance and digital tables where children are able to play games while dining in, not to mention TV's with Disney cartoons running all the time! Although one disappointment was the fact that the tables were jam-packed so tightly together it was very uncomfortable to be sat so close to one another, not to mention getting in and out. I say that our trip to the Disney inspired Cafe was brief, however, it still took well over twenty minutes to get a simple latte for my bestie. Although this was nothing in comparison to the poor lady sat next to us who had been waiting for her Mickey pancakes and waffles for her and her two children for well over 30 minutes before she asked for them a second and even a third time before finally demanding her money back and walking out!
Our experience, as Mr Warehouse put it, was very much like any other Primark shop with all the latest in womenswear, menswear, kidswear, lingerie, beauty and homeware all thrown together with some little added benefits such as free wi-fi and a seating area fitted with phone chargers for men when they get bored! It was massive and after a pit-stop in the Disney cafe to grab some breakfast we headed out to find some bargains. Although the sales and reductions were few and far between it is to be expected when you have just opened a new store with thousands trudging the kiosks and stands each and every day.
One of the things Miss Tweedle-Dee and I did miss out on and something I certainly missed was the Custom Lab – the bespoke print lab for t-shirts and other items – something which seems to be popping up in an increasing number of its stores which has been growing in popularity. And so it appears I may have to return sometime soon ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 21 January 2019
The "W" Word
Hello everyone!
Following on from "The White, Lacy Condom Dress and Others" I have continued in my hunt for Wedding suppliers and items. As before, since Mr. Warehouse keeps insisting that we can't afford a holiday this year I have thrown myself head first into Wedding Planning and so all of my focus and energy is being put into planning our dream day. However, with still so much left to plan and organise I tried to focus my attention more on the bigger budget items, such as the catering.
One of the first things Mr Warehouse and I looked at was the guest list and how much it is swelling with each and every month that seems to pass. After settling down to a rough number we calculated a round figure and sent it out to as many caterers as we could find and think of within a thirty mile radius. Ideally we were, still are, looking for a sit down meal catering consisting of 2-courses and finishing with our wedding cake as dessert. The catering facilities at Stagsden Village Hall are minimal as it is a old school house converted into a pretty hall, however they do have two ovens with hobs and a fridge plus crockery, glasses and table wear we are able to use.
Now I was quite understanding, as was Mr Warehouse, that we were not going to get Foie Gras or Duck Breast for our wedding breakfast, however we were anticipating something simple yet effective. Starting with some ideas around starters my fiance and I looked at Pate, Bread and Olives, Soup or a Seafood Cocktail. For mains I was looking for something easy and cost effective also which would please many such as a Chicken Chasseur, Casserole, Pasta dish or Chilli Con Carne. Obviously it would be assumed that all the dishes are served with Seasonal Vegetables and a Potato product where appropriate.
Sending out the simple suggestions and stating that the event we were catering for was a "family meal" rather than the 'W' word as it seems to add on an extra thirty or forty percent to the total bill for no apparent reasoning. Essentially this is still true since the only difference between a genuine family meal and a wedding is that I am going to be sat in a fat white dress. With this we looked forward to the quotes that were to follow, however many came back stating that our budget would simply be too low to accommodate.
We were however lucky enough to find a few suppliers that were able to supply us with a quote and even some different food choices and sample menu's that were in line with the budget. My fiance and I had asked commonly requested things from anyone providing food for an event such as is the price inclusive or excluding VAT, if they provide the linens and how many servers would they suggest? Other easily answerable questions followed such as will the servers be uniformed, whether they work with fresh or frozen food and how would they handle last-minute requests or changes. Crucially we wanted to know if they charge a cake-cutting or serving fee as we wanted to have the dessert as the cake and also wanted to double check they have a current food license. On the day we needed to know for planning purposes how long they will need for setting up and if we can get references from others they had catered for. Obviously we needed to confirm when we should give the final guest numbers and what their menu choices would be.
Although after several back and forth emails asking for some of the above questions asked to the caterers we were sent the details on tastings and when we could potentially arrange a meeting so as to go through the exact menu and pay any holding fee or deposit. Then all of a sudden, Mr Warehouse and I received an email. In it the caterers stated that "After careful consideration and a discussion with the team [the catering company] are unable to catering for your event, as it wouldn't be cost effective for us to do so due to your requirements and budget."
Following a huge let down like that I battled on and I suppose like any normal person, you would ask many of the questions previously detailed when hosting an event; Be it a wedding, family event or birthday party all of which you would expect the same level of service and ergo the same price per head. But Ohhh No!
Yet again after sending the same list of questions to another catering company, again simple questions anyone hiring for an event would ask, irrespective of the occasion, a confirmed menu and details on how to place an order and make payments were sent. Although just before we had a chance to print, sign, scan and send back we were told that they could not provide a fabulous menu compromising of Soup for starters and a Chicken main course with the cake as a dessert as "Unfortunately we may have crossed wires throughout e-mails, as [the catering company] were unaware that the catering required was for a Wedding as no mention of this throughout the correspondence and that our Wedding packages start from £30.00 + VAT per head due to the preparation involved and the high standard of service we like to provide for our brides."
Furious at being asked to pay nearly treble the original cost quoted, for a menu Mr. Warehouse and I were extremely happy with, I emailed them back:
"Apologies we are slightly confused with the pricing as we were quoted for a very simple menu, which we are very, very happy with and ready to book and yet now it is different? I am honestly shocked that the price has jumped to more than double with just the mention of the "w" word. We are not sure what the difference is between a family event which is really what it is as we are not having a big thing made about it at all. My Fiance and I don't have a huge amount of money either, hence only having a small family meal. For a price increase of £18.00+ what would we get for that as we are not fussy about preparation involved as they should be the same regardless of the function and the standards still kept high as we only wanted a sit down meal for close family and a handful of friends? I have also noticed that after reading the below email, the address is a local business we know very well and have visited many, many times before as you are local to Bedford's Priory Park which is where we walk our dog Roxy most weekends. In fact my fiance actually proposed to me just round the corner in one of the meadows so it would really mean a lot to us to have yourselves cater for us. Again I hope you are able to help with this as again I am flabbergasted as to why the price has increased so much. We are ready to book and just needed a few questions answering and are happy to pay in advance."
With this the catering company came back to us and attempted to justify the price increase, stating that they "feel from the original enquiry we made, there was a different impression of the type of catering and service required for the agreed price and anticipated only sending a maximum of two members of staff to serve and prepare the food for a maximum of two-three hours. The price originally quoted didn’t include linen hire (not that we need it I must add), set up or clearing away and that clearly this type of service is not sufficient for a Wedding Reception. We understand when you have said that you would not be fussy about the preparation, but for a Wedding sit down meal there will be a lot more involvement to go towards making your Day a special occasion and we can’t offer this type of service for under our standard Wedding price of £30 + VAT per head."
I have yet to call them to discuss their pitiful offering, but I can just not believe that the mention of the word wedding would increase the price by nearly twenty-quid per head! Shocking and disgusting is beyond the words that I can describe but to be fair if I was some sort of supplier of goods and knew that I could get at least double if not triple the price for a wedding rather than the same event without such connotations then of course I would also be charging extra. However, the point I make is that I did not initially send out any queries or questions in relation to a wedding and only for a family event, which is as I said before, essentially what a wedding is. Rest assured I am sure that you will hear of the outcome soon as I rip them a new one ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Following on from "The White, Lacy Condom Dress and Others" I have continued in my hunt for Wedding suppliers and items. As before, since Mr. Warehouse keeps insisting that we can't afford a holiday this year I have thrown myself head first into Wedding Planning and so all of my focus and energy is being put into planning our dream day. However, with still so much left to plan and organise I tried to focus my attention more on the bigger budget items, such as the catering.
One of the first things Mr Warehouse and I looked at was the guest list and how much it is swelling with each and every month that seems to pass. After settling down to a rough number we calculated a round figure and sent it out to as many caterers as we could find and think of within a thirty mile radius. Ideally we were, still are, looking for a sit down meal catering consisting of 2-courses and finishing with our wedding cake as dessert. The catering facilities at Stagsden Village Hall are minimal as it is a old school house converted into a pretty hall, however they do have two ovens with hobs and a fridge plus crockery, glasses and table wear we are able to use.
Now I was quite understanding, as was Mr Warehouse, that we were not going to get Foie Gras or Duck Breast for our wedding breakfast, however we were anticipating something simple yet effective. Starting with some ideas around starters my fiance and I looked at Pate, Bread and Olives, Soup or a Seafood Cocktail. For mains I was looking for something easy and cost effective also which would please many such as a Chicken Chasseur, Casserole, Pasta dish or Chilli Con Carne. Obviously it would be assumed that all the dishes are served with Seasonal Vegetables and a Potato product where appropriate.
Sending out the simple suggestions and stating that the event we were catering for was a "family meal" rather than the 'W' word as it seems to add on an extra thirty or forty percent to the total bill for no apparent reasoning. Essentially this is still true since the only difference between a genuine family meal and a wedding is that I am going to be sat in a fat white dress. With this we looked forward to the quotes that were to follow, however many came back stating that our budget would simply be too low to accommodate.
We were however lucky enough to find a few suppliers that were able to supply us with a quote and even some different food choices and sample menu's that were in line with the budget. My fiance and I had asked commonly requested things from anyone providing food for an event such as is the price inclusive or excluding VAT, if they provide the linens and how many servers would they suggest? Other easily answerable questions followed such as will the servers be uniformed, whether they work with fresh or frozen food and how would they handle last-minute requests or changes. Crucially we wanted to know if they charge a cake-cutting or serving fee as we wanted to have the dessert as the cake and also wanted to double check they have a current food license. On the day we needed to know for planning purposes how long they will need for setting up and if we can get references from others they had catered for. Obviously we needed to confirm when we should give the final guest numbers and what their menu choices would be.
Although after several back and forth emails asking for some of the above questions asked to the caterers we were sent the details on tastings and when we could potentially arrange a meeting so as to go through the exact menu and pay any holding fee or deposit. Then all of a sudden, Mr Warehouse and I received an email. In it the caterers stated that "After careful consideration and a discussion with the team [the catering company] are unable to catering for your event, as it wouldn't be cost effective for us to do so due to your requirements and budget."
Following a huge let down like that I battled on and I suppose like any normal person, you would ask many of the questions previously detailed when hosting an event; Be it a wedding, family event or birthday party all of which you would expect the same level of service and ergo the same price per head. But Ohhh No!
Yet again after sending the same list of questions to another catering company, again simple questions anyone hiring for an event would ask, irrespective of the occasion, a confirmed menu and details on how to place an order and make payments were sent. Although just before we had a chance to print, sign, scan and send back we were told that they could not provide a fabulous menu compromising of Soup for starters and a Chicken main course with the cake as a dessert as "Unfortunately we may have crossed wires throughout e-mails, as [the catering company] were unaware that the catering required was for a Wedding as no mention of this throughout the correspondence and that our Wedding packages start from £30.00 + VAT per head due to the preparation involved and the high standard of service we like to provide for our brides."
Furious at being asked to pay nearly treble the original cost quoted, for a menu Mr. Warehouse and I were extremely happy with, I emailed them back:
"Apologies we are slightly confused with the pricing as we were quoted for a very simple menu, which we are very, very happy with and ready to book and yet now it is different? I am honestly shocked that the price has jumped to more than double with just the mention of the "w" word. We are not sure what the difference is between a family event which is really what it is as we are not having a big thing made about it at all. My Fiance and I don't have a huge amount of money either, hence only having a small family meal. For a price increase of £18.00+ what would we get for that as we are not fussy about preparation involved as they should be the same regardless of the function and the standards still kept high as we only wanted a sit down meal for close family and a handful of friends? I have also noticed that after reading the below email, the address is a local business we know very well and have visited many, many times before as you are local to Bedford's Priory Park which is where we walk our dog Roxy most weekends. In fact my fiance actually proposed to me just round the corner in one of the meadows so it would really mean a lot to us to have yourselves cater for us. Again I hope you are able to help with this as again I am flabbergasted as to why the price has increased so much. We are ready to book and just needed a few questions answering and are happy to pay in advance."
With this the catering company came back to us and attempted to justify the price increase, stating that they "feel from the original enquiry we made, there was a different impression of the type of catering and service required for the agreed price and anticipated only sending a maximum of two members of staff to serve and prepare the food for a maximum of two-three hours. The price originally quoted didn’t include linen hire (not that we need it I must add), set up or clearing away and that clearly this type of service is not sufficient for a Wedding Reception. We understand when you have said that you would not be fussy about the preparation, but for a Wedding sit down meal there will be a lot more involvement to go towards making your Day a special occasion and we can’t offer this type of service for under our standard Wedding price of £30 + VAT per head."
I have yet to call them to discuss their pitiful offering, but I can just not believe that the mention of the word wedding would increase the price by nearly twenty-quid per head! Shocking and disgusting is beyond the words that I can describe but to be fair if I was some sort of supplier of goods and knew that I could get at least double if not triple the price for a wedding rather than the same event without such connotations then of course I would also be charging extra. However, the point I make is that I did not initially send out any queries or questions in relation to a wedding and only for a family event, which is as I said before, essentially what a wedding is. Rest assured I am sure that you will hear of the outcome soon as I rip them a new one ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 26 February 2018
The Night Of Lola The Showgirl!
Hello!
Another long week over and done with I was certainly more than happy that it was finally payday. It felt as though February had been a lot longer of a month than the payday between Christmas and the end of January. Maybe it was the fact that all of my money was ploughed into a savings account ISA in order to desperately try and save for a house in order to move out before Christmas this year. This, coupled with the fact that my weight has now started to slow down after losing so much over Christmas and New Year despite all the personal training sessions and gym visits has all in all left me feeling slightly deflated. With no holiday to look forward to this year and very little planned in the calendar I was certainly struggling with my motivation for losing weight and saving for my first home!
Deciding that I was not going to spend another month not going out and being a complete antisocial recluse, I organised a works night out. Following the works Christmas party and how much fun it was, not to mention just how messy it ended up, I was certain that a good old-fashioned night out to paint the town red! On sending the email out to my colleague I eagerly awaited their response. But nothing came, only a few replies on how some people were not able to make it. There were a few suggestions that involved team activities that were not alcohol related but on trying to obtain numbers no one seemed to care. So it seemed up until last minute it was just me and a couple of the girls going out for a quiet drink and maybe a dance.
Heading for some pre-drinks round one of the girls house's, gossipping away about music and the likes, trying to decided on what pair of shoes goes with what dress and whether anyone can see our VPL - Visible Panty Line. Frosty air nipping at our legs we were finally in a pub keeping warm and refreshed with some Prosecco or two. Later on the music started to pump and in between scrolling though social media and nattering over the tunes there would be a Selfie or two. Unfortunately none of us out saw the arrogant twat walking towards us like some sort of Andy Warhol. Dressed in an overly tight top that saw the blood supply cut off to his exterior limbs, he waltzed over to our table and failing to introduce himself like a true gent (or to be honest anyone with any ounce of dignity or respect) and practically snatched my Smart phone out of my hand in order to "help" us clearly failing and weak women take a Selfie.
Five minutes he was still there and despite our efforts to move him along politely we had given up and lost our patience with him and his poxy photography skills fast. Insulting him as only women know how to by emasculating the little toe-rag he eventually got the picture and pissed off, leaving my phone back in my safe hands and with a dozen or so badly taken and blurred images of three women on the Razz.
Carrying on throughout the night we were joined by some other work colleagues whom were also on a night out with some of their friends, joining together in a drunken stupor I felt like the fifth wheel in all of this. Not wanting to interrupt anyone's conversation and boring of looking at my phone I went off in search of some company. Male was my choice preferably as they were normally more friendly and usually happy to see anyone of the female variety taking an interest, even a Hepher like me! Or so I thought. The first lad I made conversation with was tall with light brown curly hair in what the kids on the street call a "Meet Me At McDonalds" Haircut. Wearing a dusty blue grey jumper and being typically British I mentioned how cold it was and we struck up a chat which eventually lead to him asking for my number. Before I even had a chance to turn around and run back to my friends or tell him I had a boyfriend I was thrust a phone and asked to put in my number. When I handed it back and said I had done it, I was promptly told that this was not true as Mr. Meet-Me-At-McDonalds-Haircut had been watching me the whole time and I had not given my number. "Persistent I'll give him that" I thought as I typed a random number into my phone and saved it under 'Lola' - And yes she was a showgirl!
Heading off from one public house to the next I found myself in the wallet-sucking auction room and whilst its nice atmosphere, relatively good music and nice cocktails are always welcome in my books, the price you pay for a dribble of Blossom Hill White Zinfandel (my fave) you could walk up the road to the corner shop and buy a whole bottle and still have change. Separated from my work buds I made some new ones with a guy who was sat alone and looking melancholy. Striking up conversation in probably the most intoxicated way possible whereby I thrust my hand out and introduced myself. The gentleman obliged and we got chatting, later on his friends joined and I got talking to some more guys and they asked if I was single. "Wow two lots of guys in one night?! Surely this cant be happening? They must all have that 'Shallow Hal' thing going on!" I pondered. Laughing it off I found my friends and I danced the rest of the night away without many cares in the world apart from having a good time.
I never knew that I would have been so popular with the lads. I mean granted I did make the first move in terms of walking over for a chat and introducing myself in a proper way as opposed to our All-Muscle-No-Brains "Photographer" earlier in the evening. Being the size I am (UK Size 18/20) I would have thought that men would have turned the other way, ignored me or worse made a joke but in actual fact I think they were just pleased for the attention and the fact that someone was maybe interested in talking to them for a change and not them having to do all the chasing, not that that was what I was after. I kinda feel sorry for lads sometimes as they are damned if they do and damned if they don't in many a moral dilemma, especially when it comes to dating and anything concerned with the opposite sex.
Now I know some people may criticise me and ask why I did all those things on Friday night when I had a perfectly good-to-me boyfriend sat at home. The thing is that I did not intend to go out with the intention of pulling, cheating or handing out myself like sweeties. I have respect for myself regardless of when I am in or out of a relationship. I know how to conduct myself and am confident in the situations I put myself in. If I wanted to cheat I could and would have done it months if not years ago. But I didn't and don't. Why? Because Mr. Warehouse and I have a strong relationship which means he can go out, chat with other girls, dance with other girls and even mildly flirt with them if he so wishes just as I can and did on Friday night, but the difference between us and other couples is that we trust each other and that each night one or both of us goes out on the piss, we know we're coming home to something much, much more special, meaningful and precious than some twenty-something in "Da Club"!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 12 February 2018
One Year On ...
Afternoon All,
Hard to see how things have changed since this time last year. A lot has changed, however there are many things that are still the same old same old. Like my love for Cheese and Mr. Warehouse's obsession for recording stuff and not watching it on the iPlayer. But one thing is for sure, and as it approaches Valentines Day our love for each other is just as strong as last year if not moreso. Another thing that has grown stronger is our love for Pooch and given the circumstances surrounding last year I am glad we have made it this far with what was such a sad and desperate time.
Mr. Warehouse and I noticed the pooch had a gunky eye first of all. It was closed and sore looking. Pups had not been well for some days, not eating properly, if at all and had a complete loss of interest in anything she used to love and enjoy. Worried if it was something more serious we bundled her into my car and headed to the Vets. Once the Veterinary nurse had taken some swabs of her eyes and quizzed us both on our dog's habits and traits over the last few days. Mr. Warehouse proceeded to explain that pooch had been prescribed some medicine for a water infection a couple of weeks ago and it had seemed to clear it up but she had done a little accident two days earlier, which he put down to just being excited, although I and the Vet disagreed. When I explained that since she was originally owned by the Brother of Mr. Warehouse, she had not been spayed the Vet seemed evermore concerned. Then come a wave of peculiar questions that were all answered with a yes. At this point the Veterinarian seemed very anxious and asked our permission to take bloods to see how her vitals were performing. When I asked the Veterinary nurse about what might be possibly wrong I expected it to be something small and easily treatable, but then cam her explanation.
"She has what is called a Pyometra which is where the womb fills up with pus and as a result is extremely dangerous and life-threatening without treatment. An open-Pyo is where the cervix has opened up just enough to let the pus seep out which is still serious but can wait a few weeks for an appointment, however a closed-Pyo will mean it is essentially a ticking time-bomb, getting bigger and bigger and with no-where to go could burst at any moment, killing her."
Shocked and shaking I asked about what we can do and what as owners our options were. She talked through the various routes we had but ultimately the cost was huge and we had to consider other options than surgery. Numbers and figures whirling around my head all with the thoughts that this was a very simple and easily preventable illness. I couldn't take it. My rage filling up inside that this was what we had to deal with because of someone else's negligence. The Veterinarian took some more swabs from Pooch's undercarriage and said that since there is no leakage that Mr. Warehouse and I had to prepare for the worst. Leaving our sickly pup in the hands of what would have appeared to be a very, very good Pet Doctor we left to grab a coffee and discuss our options.
After Mr. Warehouse's Brother bought the bundle of fluff he handed her over, almost like a toy and into the care of a teenage Mr. Warehouse and his Mom, both of whom worked and were not ready or prepared for an animal. But nevertheless they cared for her as best they could but as a adolescent man, no-one had kept her up to date on her vaccinations as a puppy or as an adult dog. Therefore as a result of this, her pet insurance had been invalidated years ago. Without it we were left in a very desperate situation.
"We have a lot to talk about" I said, hoping that magically we would find the money or a solution would come to us in the darkness, only lit by street lamps on the side of a road, outside what we now know in the daylight as a church. Watching the cars windows steam with little talk and more silent tears, all I could see were dog walkers. We were one of them. We still are one of them. And we needed to find a way to fix her. She is our dog and Mr. Warehouse and I need to be strong for her because for every moment we have had a shitty day or been poorly or unhappy she has been there for us. Now it is our turn. Not just that but we have got so many things left to do together. Run on sandy beaches, Hop on a ferry for a holiday or just for her to share in some of life's biggest moments with Mr. Warehouse and I.
She was still on antibiotics and anti-inflammatory medication from the Vets but Mr. Warehouse and I decided to carry on with our Peak District Valentines break away with Pup but within twenty-four hours after coming off the meds, returning home our pooch got poorly again, signature eye infection and constantly licking her privates. Taking her to the Vets again they couldn't determine as to what was causing her upset. Asking to consult with colleagues we were left to discuss our financial options which were dwindling with every visit we seemed to make. With the prospects of a £1,500+ bill for the operation alone we were nervous of what the Vet had to say.
After searching constantly for a way to get through this calling over one-hundred local vets and even ones as far as forty miles from where we called home. Mr. Warehouse never knew the sleepless nights or evenings I would spend researching charities or funding pages that may be able to help. I must admit though that I did look into the horrific alternative and the costs that it would incur. Every night I was left alone with the TV I would open up my laptop / tablet, pooch sat beside me, and nearly cry my heart out for the lack of help around.
The next few hours and days were a blur until the weekend when Mr. Warehouse was accepted for a loan at the bank, funnily enough not actually needed for Pooch's Op but to try and better manage his debt and Credit Cards. Timing impeccable, we walked out of that room with a smile on our faces not only meant that we had secured Mr. Warehouse's financial status, but also that we could save our dogs life and in a way ours. A few days later I was nervous as I walked back into the Vets to collect Mr. Warehouse's pooch. What condition was she going to be in? Was she going to recover quickly? Had she peed on the floor in fear after the last time we arrived? But more importantly ... How much is it going to cost our little family financially? It had been a stressful few weeks leading up to that moment but the second the little student nurse brought out our furry baby we knew the decision to operate was the right one. She was so happy, the happiest we had seen her in some time. Her belly wasn't anywhere near as swollen as it once was and in its place was a shaved belly and a six-inch-scar, held together with little stitches. She had a bandage on her paw where she had her IV drip and fluids. Looked like some child had just been playing Doctors and Nurses with her to be honest. But she was defiantly feeling much better it would have seemed. And I suppose you would have felt better too if you saw what was removed.
The infected womb that was removed was full, bulging and resembled haggis showed the photos took by surgeons. The Pyometra had got to the point of bursting and had even developed a small rupture which was found when the Vet's operated. Mr. Warehouse had been ever-so close to loosing our puppy and we were sure to make the most of life once she was back on her paws. And boy have we. All three of us ran along the freezing but sandy beaches of Great Yarmouth in spring last year, had many trips to the lake for swimming and attempted picnics and even managed a weekend away to Bath in a log cabin by a toasty fire which I think Pooch enjoyed very much. All in all we are so lucky to have her still and make her last few years with us the best they can be ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Hard to see how things have changed since this time last year. A lot has changed, however there are many things that are still the same old same old. Like my love for Cheese and Mr. Warehouse's obsession for recording stuff and not watching it on the iPlayer. But one thing is for sure, and as it approaches Valentines Day our love for each other is just as strong as last year if not moreso. Another thing that has grown stronger is our love for Pooch and given the circumstances surrounding last year I am glad we have made it this far with what was such a sad and desperate time.
Mr. Warehouse and I noticed the pooch had a gunky eye first of all. It was closed and sore looking. Pups had not been well for some days, not eating properly, if at all and had a complete loss of interest in anything she used to love and enjoy. Worried if it was something more serious we bundled her into my car and headed to the Vets. Once the Veterinary nurse had taken some swabs of her eyes and quizzed us both on our dog's habits and traits over the last few days. Mr. Warehouse proceeded to explain that pooch had been prescribed some medicine for a water infection a couple of weeks ago and it had seemed to clear it up but she had done a little accident two days earlier, which he put down to just being excited, although I and the Vet disagreed. When I explained that since she was originally owned by the Brother of Mr. Warehouse, she had not been spayed the Vet seemed evermore concerned. Then come a wave of peculiar questions that were all answered with a yes. At this point the Veterinarian seemed very anxious and asked our permission to take bloods to see how her vitals were performing. When I asked the Veterinary nurse about what might be possibly wrong I expected it to be something small and easily treatable, but then cam her explanation.
"She has what is called a Pyometra which is where the womb fills up with pus and as a result is extremely dangerous and life-threatening without treatment. An open-Pyo is where the cervix has opened up just enough to let the pus seep out which is still serious but can wait a few weeks for an appointment, however a closed-Pyo will mean it is essentially a ticking time-bomb, getting bigger and bigger and with no-where to go could burst at any moment, killing her."
Shocked and shaking I asked about what we can do and what as owners our options were. She talked through the various routes we had but ultimately the cost was huge and we had to consider other options than surgery. Numbers and figures whirling around my head all with the thoughts that this was a very simple and easily preventable illness. I couldn't take it. My rage filling up inside that this was what we had to deal with because of someone else's negligence. The Veterinarian took some more swabs from Pooch's undercarriage and said that since there is no leakage that Mr. Warehouse and I had to prepare for the worst. Leaving our sickly pup in the hands of what would have appeared to be a very, very good Pet Doctor we left to grab a coffee and discuss our options.
After Mr. Warehouse's Brother bought the bundle of fluff he handed her over, almost like a toy and into the care of a teenage Mr. Warehouse and his Mom, both of whom worked and were not ready or prepared for an animal. But nevertheless they cared for her as best they could but as a adolescent man, no-one had kept her up to date on her vaccinations as a puppy or as an adult dog. Therefore as a result of this, her pet insurance had been invalidated years ago. Without it we were left in a very desperate situation.
"We have a lot to talk about" I said, hoping that magically we would find the money or a solution would come to us in the darkness, only lit by street lamps on the side of a road, outside what we now know in the daylight as a church. Watching the cars windows steam with little talk and more silent tears, all I could see were dog walkers. We were one of them. We still are one of them. And we needed to find a way to fix her. She is our dog and Mr. Warehouse and I need to be strong for her because for every moment we have had a shitty day or been poorly or unhappy she has been there for us. Now it is our turn. Not just that but we have got so many things left to do together. Run on sandy beaches, Hop on a ferry for a holiday or just for her to share in some of life's biggest moments with Mr. Warehouse and I.
She was still on antibiotics and anti-inflammatory medication from the Vets but Mr. Warehouse and I decided to carry on with our Peak District Valentines break away with Pup but within twenty-four hours after coming off the meds, returning home our pooch got poorly again, signature eye infection and constantly licking her privates. Taking her to the Vets again they couldn't determine as to what was causing her upset. Asking to consult with colleagues we were left to discuss our financial options which were dwindling with every visit we seemed to make. With the prospects of a £1,500+ bill for the operation alone we were nervous of what the Vet had to say.
After searching constantly for a way to get through this calling over one-hundred local vets and even ones as far as forty miles from where we called home. Mr. Warehouse never knew the sleepless nights or evenings I would spend researching charities or funding pages that may be able to help. I must admit though that I did look into the horrific alternative and the costs that it would incur. Every night I was left alone with the TV I would open up my laptop / tablet, pooch sat beside me, and nearly cry my heart out for the lack of help around.
The next few hours and days were a blur until the weekend when Mr. Warehouse was accepted for a loan at the bank, funnily enough not actually needed for Pooch's Op but to try and better manage his debt and Credit Cards. Timing impeccable, we walked out of that room with a smile on our faces not only meant that we had secured Mr. Warehouse's financial status, but also that we could save our dogs life and in a way ours. A few days later I was nervous as I walked back into the Vets to collect Mr. Warehouse's pooch. What condition was she going to be in? Was she going to recover quickly? Had she peed on the floor in fear after the last time we arrived? But more importantly ... How much is it going to cost our little family financially? It had been a stressful few weeks leading up to that moment but the second the little student nurse brought out our furry baby we knew the decision to operate was the right one. She was so happy, the happiest we had seen her in some time. Her belly wasn't anywhere near as swollen as it once was and in its place was a shaved belly and a six-inch-scar, held together with little stitches. She had a bandage on her paw where she had her IV drip and fluids. Looked like some child had just been playing Doctors and Nurses with her to be honest. But she was defiantly feeling much better it would have seemed. And I suppose you would have felt better too if you saw what was removed.
The infected womb that was removed was full, bulging and resembled haggis showed the photos took by surgeons. The Pyometra had got to the point of bursting and had even developed a small rupture which was found when the Vet's operated. Mr. Warehouse had been ever-so close to loosing our puppy and we were sure to make the most of life once she was back on her paws. And boy have we. All three of us ran along the freezing but sandy beaches of Great Yarmouth in spring last year, had many trips to the lake for swimming and attempted picnics and even managed a weekend away to Bath in a log cabin by a toasty fire which I think Pooch enjoyed very much. All in all we are so lucky to have her still and make her last few years with us the best they can be ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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