Helping Out and Eating Out

Afternoon, 

Tattoo finally settling down I write to you after an eventful and laid back kind of bank holiday weekend. As things start to get back to more normality, or whatever this new bullshit is now, Mr Warehouse and I have visited friends, family and even done a spot of masked-up shopping at a local retail park. However there is one thing I am looking forward to tonight, as I have done for the full month of August and that is one of my fave things to do of all time - Eating out!

Announced mid-July 2020, the Gov.uk website states that from 3rd to 31st August, foodies can get a 50% discount when you eat in Monday to Wednesday's that are registered with the Eat Out to Help Out Scheme. But what is it and how does it work? 

With the scheme launched in order to boost more spending from the Great British public following the reopening of many of our favourite haunts by the Governments Chancellor of the Exchequer Rishi Sunak, with the Eat Out to Help Out Scheme means many can get a 50% discount on food or non-alcoholic drinks to eat or drink in (up to a maximum of £10 discount per diner) as many times as you like. You do not need a voucher but can use it at the same time as other offers and discounts. The discount will be automatically taken off the bill should you eat in on the designated days and establishments will then claim a reimbursement from the government for the discount they’ve given you. 

Winner, winner chicken dinner. And you can take your pick from Nandos to KFC and other local chicken shops as there is no minimum spend. Some of the drawbacks though? You cannot claim discount on alcoholic drinks or service charges. Where can you use it you ask? Participating establishments may include restaurants, cafés, bars or pubs and even some work or school canteens. With all diners in a group of any size being able to use the discount it is certainly one that has been popular the last few weeks.

Mr Warehouse, Miss Tweedle-Dee and myself have certainly taken advantage of the Eat Out to Help Out Scheme at a participating establishments and quite frankly taken the piss sometimes, eating out at least once a week, sometimes two or three. 

Week one I took the chance to frequent somewhere I had been meaning to take Mr Warehouse, Miss Tweedle-Dee and myself for several months - Pasha. Located in close proximity to Bletchley Park near Milton Keynes, Pasha are leaders of exquisite Turkish and Mediterranean Cuisine and proud to have reached the Finals of the British Best Kebab Awards 2020.With every meaty morsoul ever-so slightly charred on the outside, tender and succulent on the inside there are no ovens, pots or pans. Just teasing flames from the grill and the best ingredients we can source in locally from within the Buckinghamshire area. Being Turkish food it was a more healthier and fresher choice but with their signature welcome bread and salad prepared the authentic way on site by experienced chefs and platters to die for it was the perfect place to start our culinary journey. 

Week two was Date Night and Mr Warehouse chose an Indian down the road from where he used to live in the next village over. Lounge India welcomed us on a rainy but terribly humid Tuesday but was nice to visit and get the history that it was once a pub run by Mr Warehouse's Dad. Specialising in Indian & Bangladeshi food, every dish was authenticly cooked which were mouth-watering delish, if a little different for me (someone who had never eaten out at a Indian in my life up until that point and barely had a takeaway from one). But with each dish cooked fresh to order and using the finest combination of spices, most of which were freshly grounded in the kitchen.

Week three was special since it was Mr Warehouse's birthday. On the day, following an escape room experiance (honestly so much fun and 100% doing it again), I treated the Bae to dinner at Browns Milton Keynes, conveniently located just over the road on Midsummer Boulevard. Whether it’s a pre-shopping lunch, afternoon tea or, as in our instance, an la carte dinner, the menu delivers fresh and seasonal dishes and all served in the comfort of our stylish yet cosy brasserie ith the elegant yet comfortable bar in the background offering exceptional drinks including classic and contemporary cocktails which we just had to try. 

Last week I had another disappointment (although not on the same level as the Indian) when Miss TweedleDumb and I branched out and visited the Blossom Room, again in Miltons Keynes Hub District. Instagram worth posts lured me to the establishment, however whilst the venue itself screamed dinner with the girls pre-night out, the food was slightly letting the "show" down. I dont know maybe its just not the kind of place you go for food because the cocktails were lovely. Certainly looking at the website it is the perfect Hen-Do starter location with Cocktail Masterclasses and VIP Booths or maybe a calmer Afternoon Tea or Bottomless Brunch to tickle your fancy. Anyhoo, definatly worth a visit for afterworks drinks and to decompress from your office in the tower block next door, the Blossom Room comes with golden angel wings to pose next to, cherry blossoms to gasp at and flower walls with neon signs to lust over, but not really somewhere for food, especially so when the website describes itself as "Japanese-inspired where the theatre of food and drink is served" and here I was expecting sushi and dancing Kimchi. 

Tonight was the last day and so we went out in style booking one of the last tables at The Smoke Pit in Northampton. Right in the heart pretty much of the town and situated behind the buildng I did some of my first ever counselling sessions in and next to The Cordwainer, a Wetherspoons pub whee I had my first post-college job after moving from the 'Shire, it was certainly an experiance being back. A casual, compact BBQ restaurant with sofas and high stools, for pulled pork & chargrilled meats, it was an exclectic mix of odds and sods collected from bric-a-brac shops with an all american feel and a nod to street food and art. The venue alone had Mr Warehouse and I looking around for the whole of our duration there and definatly somewhere to be coming back, if only to try the mega-death shakes my Dad had reccommended to us so highly. 

However as week sixteen starts and the bank holiday ends, so does EOTHO. But does it have to? A news article from the BBC has gone into detail about how beneficial this has been for eateries and establishments up and down the country. Since it was originally designed to boost the struggling hospitality industry, in its first three-weeks over 63 million discounted meals were ordered, but now as the "freebie" ends several restaurants say they will carry it on at their own expense including Tesco Café, The Real Greek, Harvester & Toby Carvery  just to name a few. 

Obviously some of the critics have had had their fill so as to speak and with fast-food chains such as Burger King, McDonalds and others having taken part EOTHO has drawn questioning from some anti-obesity campaignersand ergo pointing the finger at government and asking whether this is them giving a ''green light to promote junk food''. This is something I can totally get behind and understand since the discount doesnt seem to sit well alongside the government's healthy eating plan that bans "buy one get one free" deals on unhealthy food and this is not even taking into consideration the growing evidence of links between obesity and an increased risk from coronavirus. 

Do I think it should continue? Yes is the short answer. However I feel like the little guy is getting left behind as the bigger multi-site corperations can afford to take the hit of a tenner a head, little independants maybe cant and that can't be good for business or economies. If it is extended then whoopie for me and all my loved ones, but I think the government needs to get smarter with their "help" and only allow smaller companies to cash in on the benefits whilst also offering discounted gym memberships or fitness schemes because hell only knows I will need something to shift this Corona-comforter from my waist!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Flipping Me Off!

Hiya, 

Outfits ready and bodies primped and preened, Mr. Warehouse and I were ready for our close-up. Today was the day of Mr. Warehouse's Valentines present ... A couples photo-shoot. Arriving slightly early, we drove up the long and winding private road to the big country home and adjacent log cabin studio. Its was obvious that Mommy and Daddy bought the place and that she still lived at home and had probably rarely left home, only for wonderful long distance holidays and maybe Uni all paid for by the fat that she possibly paid little or no rent. Nevertheless with the fields and countryside surrounding the home, a tree house, swing and an area for campfires I was more than looking forward to the shots and what the possibilities could be for the final viewing. 

Now I must say that I never really gelled with our photographer on this occasion as much as I had with the Guy who did the photo shoot for the Dog which we won back in November following a chance entry whilst in our local Pets At Home. He was funny and made us feel so welcome and happy to share our lives and open up to him and his lens. He got on brilliantly with our pooch and really seemed to understand us, which was something I hoped had and would come from our valentines shoot. 

In a way I kind of wished that I had booked it before we went on holiday or for a day that wasn't so overcast or cold, for maybe they would look better (This is me speculating of course, they may already be beautiful) and at least I would look thinner from all the classes and swimming I ave been doing now Pooch doesn't have to go to the Vets every other day. 

Alas as half way through and after many an outfit change, Mr. Warehouse and I were told it was "time to show some more affection" which, as if the situation wasn't cringe enough, just made the whole thing just that little bit worse. Posing together felt awkward and at times painful, both metaphorically and physically with odd positions and strange moves. Now I am not saying by any stretch of the imagination that Mr. Warehouse and I have the perfect relationship, however I know for a fact that we are affectionate towards one another. I cuddle him and he cuddles me and we comfort each other when we have had a bad day. Like Pancake (Shrove) Tuesday!

Coming home from work I was exhausted, it had been a long day and one where I was glad it was over. Feeling slightly on the edge as it goes I refused to let life get the better of me and took to making the healthy banana pancake batter I had been researching all day and spending my lunch-break watching videos of how to make them. Batter made and pan hot with oil, I started the melt-down process that would ensue. First two went OK. then the third just flopped like a dead battery at an Ann Summers party. As I went to flip it the pancake, batter still wet and not fully cooked yet, split. Hoping to try and rectify it I counter-acted the manoeuvre by approaching it from the other side, not helping the situation in the slightest. After several more attempts I threw the frying pan down, tipped away the by now char-grilled and mushy mess and proceeded to the front room for reflection. 

It was at this point that Mr. Warehouse makes the point that I have not followed the recipe exactly to the letter and the reason for my inability to make healthy pancakes is because I did not weigh everything and follow the instructions given. So, refusing to be beaten by a mixture that calls itself not only Yorkshire pudding mix but also for making Pancakes, I returned to the kitchen. This time I was encouraged by Mr. Warehouse, following every gram and millilitre by the book. And yet again the same thing happened. Tormented by the smoking frying pan I went into full blown Kitchen-Floor-Reset Mode. For those of you that don't know what Kitchen-Floor-Reset Mode is, its where you have so much of a break-down in yourself as a human being you slowly cry yourself onto the floor of the kitchen, snot and tears coagulating mess in your airways making you sound like a toddler who has just been told Peppa Pig time is over. 

In true teenager fashion I huffed back to the front room and with everything finally coming to a head, I began to cry. And yes it was all because of some Instrgram, Protein-shake-fucked, clean-eating healthy bollocking banana pancakes. Felling silly I felt the familiar cuddle of Mr. Warehouse's arms encapsulate me. Soft words of non-wisdom came next like "Its OK not everyone can make pancakes" and other one liners such as "It was the frying pan, its not a good one". Whilst sobbing subsided I could see through blurred, teary vision that my beautiful, wonderful Mr. Ware was desperately trying to look for any restaurants within a ten-mile radius that would sell pancakes. I needed IHOP but all England has is, well, nothing. With all other options exhausted Mr. Warehouse and I headed to Tesco in order to find some battery goodness. None was to be found though as everyone else obviously had the same idea and just bought there is instead of trying to be Pintrest-Pricks. So I settled for Waffles instead. 

But that is what affection and love is. Supporting someone through a shitty time, even if it is over a few bananas mashed in with rolled oats and an egg. Its about searching the whole fucking county for pancake-houses and dessert places that will deliver since Bedford has yet to hop on the whole Deliveroo band-wagon. Caring is saying 'I'm sure It'll look OK in the photos' when in reality you know we will both end up just skipping through them all like the last time, hating the way we looked.

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Pretty As A Picture

Hello, 

After missing the turning twice already, Mr. Warehouse and I pulled into the driveway of the photographers studio once more and the gates opened, I wondered as to where that ponsy family went and how their wonderful Swarovski encrusted lives had got to. Nevertheless as Mr. Warehouse anxiously waffled on about what our budget was for photos was and if we needed a safe word for when we were in the viewing room (Anyone would have thought we were arranging some sort of BDSM relationship with our slightly-camp photographer) I parked my little Vivienne and took the short gravel path to the studio's. 

Sitting down in the viewing room I got ready for the hard sell and eye-watering prices. Watching the initial video of our little pooch and us. Music with an upbeat tempo and the seventy or so images that were taken during our shoot. Settling into the comfy sofa's with our lattes and cappuccino's the video ended and Mr. Warehouse and I were left to whittle down the photo's into the yes, no and maybe piles. Nearly forty-minutes in and we had binned more than half and were left with sixteen images we were struggling to pick off. With Mr. Warehouse looking to me for my advice I simply didn't know what to say and maybe a safe word at this point would have been a good thing. 

Silence breaking we listened to the photographer as he asked us what our budget was. We had not even really planned to be asked such a question and as silly as that sounds we really hadn't thought about how much we had or wanted to spend. I responded with a polite but reasonable offer of up to £400.00 since it was on the run up to Christmas and all that it brings we wouldn't be able to stretch much farther than that. In all fairness if I could get a package for half of that then I would be walking out of those doors a happy lady, but I had to remember that for me it was just flicking through pictures of Golden Labrador Retrievers but for Mr. Warehouse that was his baby. His furry, excitable, traffic-detesting, tennis-ball loving, scratch-my-bum-please and constantly hungry baby. 

Since the moment the bundle of fur arrived they were inseparable, firstly being bought by his brother but being unable to keep her in his rented accommodation he palmed the pup off to his mom and teenage brother, the pre-teen Mr. Warehouse. Plonking this little Andrex-puppy-lookalike down into his lap, Mr. Warehouse raised her through puppy-hood to an adult and what I can only describe as the most happy-go-lucky dog I think I have ever met and that not to mention her perfect temperament and ability to respond brilliantly to any situation be it children, fireworks, loud noise's, different transportation and new places. She is the best step-pooch I could have ever asked for and for the majority of the time she is very well behaved apart from maybe that time she stole my pizza slice. Oh and that time she got tangled up in the doggy-boot protector whilst I'm hitting seventy on the motorway when I look in my rear-view mirror only to see her swaddled like a newborn. Or that time she tried to steal the KFC from the builders in York. Yes.  Other than these moments she was a very good dog. 

So now was crunch time. Money. I feel that its a dirty subject to talk about and in all fairness I think rather vulgar in any situation to discuss finances or wealth or money.  Now its not like I own a yacht in the South of France, but equally I and not rummaging thought the bins to find something remotely edible to have for dinner. I am a JAM - Just About Managing. I have enough money to spend it on nice things for me and other people, but also enough to go out to dinner once a week or just go for a drive because I'm bored. I think sometimes money is a subject left to those in jobs whereby it is necessary and for me that is not the case. 

Anyways, there we were in the photographer viewing room looking at sixteen beautifully remastered images of Mr. Warehouse, the dog and I, with some of the snaps just her by herself. Looking at one another again in a hope some money might just fall out of the sky at this point in time, the photographer broke the ice by stating that he could do us a deal with the sixteen images on screen and the full feature-length video included for £300.00. Totting it up in my headed it worked out to be a good deal, and so it should be - We had to be mucked about for some wanky posho's to have their snotty brats photographed. I mean in all fairness there wasn't much cheaper we could get it for with the video being £100.00 alone and the photo's including copyright laws were working out to be about £12.50 each I thought it was a cracking deal. 

Shaking on it, Mr. Warehouse pulled out his card and we paid in full, leaving very happy customers and even more anxious and buzzing to see the results. I felt like new parents and that we had all this news and photos to show off to everyone and I just couldn't wait. Late last week they arrived and I am overjoyed with the prints and images. The video is just as good as Mr. Warehouse and I remember it and I am pleased we will soon have some wonderful prints and canvases to adorn our walls with. I don't have any reason to use the photographer any time soon unfortunately but certainly when life's big events conclude I will think of no-where else but his studios and lens. Maybe now I can have my own photogenic pup!?

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Adventures Ooop Nooorth!

How Do!

Five and a half hours on the road I was certainly ready to arrive. Winding through the curly lanes, I imagined what was beyond the black darkness of the Winter's evening. Beautiful Yorkshire countryside, fields for as far as the eyes can see and outstretched roads littered with cosy cottages. Speaking of which, here was ours now!

Pulling into the Farmhouse and row of stable converted cottages we had finally arrived. Parking little Vivienne outside in the gravelled courtyard we walked up to the large double wooden door, complete with slate tiled roof and original brickwork exposed exterior. Opening the front door we were bowled over as was the housekeeper that came to greet us by our beloved pooch who, it would have appeared was expressing just how much she was loving not speeding along the A1(M) by rolling around on the plush carpets and various shag-pile rugs comforting the floors. A snug layout, roomy enough for two and some furry friends comfortable the bedroom came first after the small porch where coat hangers and cubby holes exist for Winter accessories and cooler outer wears. Warmed thoroughly with the twinkling fairy-lights adorning the bed it was a romantic home from home with a window over looking the main road which with traffic a constant feature was certainly not so romantic I can assure you. The bed was soft and had lashings of soft furnishings not to mention the very fluffy authentic Sheepskin rug by the bedside. 

Lounge came next and as the two front windows looked out across the courtyard, the decor again carrying through the homely, kitsch country feel for the place incorporating the TV units, sofa and chairs as well as the many cushions, carefully chosen ornaments and candles. But the fireplace was the centrepiece of the room and it was a sight to behold. With a mantelpiece to die for and logs ready for our lighting we were more than ready to get that baby burning, maybe indulging in a little cuddle 'ont' shag-pile rug with our pooch as the flames blazed behind us. Through a short corridor into what I imagine was an extension to the original stables were a high spec bathroom with all the mod-con's and a kitchen equipped with most things you would need for a break away including picnic hampers, milk and cereals for the morning, all with views of the green wilderness of the gardens as your making a morning brew. So sweet!

Settling the mad dog in after she hounded every room exploring the exciting new environments as much as Mr. Warehouse and I were. Exhausted though we thanked our host and at nearly nine-at-night I could feel myself falling asleep. Making sure the pup was fed, watered and peed/pooped, my Boyfriend and I retired to the bedroom after a half-hour battle with our eyelids and the TV. And I honestly don't think I have fallen asleep so quickly, head hitting the pillow and off into dream land I went, experiencing again another strange dream, although thankfully not the nightmare I had the evening before in which Mr. Warehouse was awoken by my screams and in turn saved me from my slumbering torture. I cant even really remember what it was about although I know that I made a few wrong turns walking through some dark back alley's with my dear Mr. Warehouse and before I knew it I was being pulled about by gang members, Mr. Warehouse helpless in stopping them and there perverse plans for me. 

Waking in the morning as the cold sun broke through the cream curtains I revelled in the fact that I was somewhere new and had so much to explore. Throughout our trip we headed into York city centre most days tackling the bustling Christmas Market, York Chocolate Story and The Dungeons as well as off for long country walks with t'dog although with the weather being wetter than wet and colder than cold we were forced to turn back pretty early on. Later on in the final few days of our trip we headed our separate ways and after begging to go to the local Designer Outlet Mall, I finally had my opportunity as a football game was on and there was a pub showing the game right near the centre. So I did what every red-blooded women would do, dropped off the 'Mrs.' and headed to the discounted stores as fast as my lil' Vivienne would take me. No Mulberry discount-store unfortunately, although there was one (fully priced) store in the city centre, however there was a Ted (Baker) store and they were hosting some lovely discounted genuine products in which I may or may not (defiantly have) purchased a make-up bag. 

My favourite part of our trip though had to be spending some quality time with Mr. Warehouse and my step-pup, roasting our piggies by the roaring fire and eating naughty-naughtiness from our trips to the Christmas Market and York Chocolate Story. But suffice to say I am home now, with my little family and defiantly no log burning open-fire. Very upset about this. But it wont be that long until Christmas and next week we will have the excitement hopefully of seeing Our Little Furry Starlet's photos. Lets hope they're good. I suppose they should be though for three-hundred-quid ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx 

Our Little Furry Starlet!

Hiya, 

So it would appear that The Zombie Sickness Bug last week has not attacked me as yet, however there is still time so I am not holding my breath too much. One thing I am looking forward to is my Christmas Mini-Break to York with Mr. Warehouse and and the Pooch. Skipbridge Farm, an idyllic stable-converted cottage just north of York city itself is going to be just what the doctor ordered and with the rolling hills of Yorkshire and beyond, not to mention the farmyard animals and Hot-Tub (I think!?) its certainly going to be a silver lining to not going on a European City Christmas Market. And although I am happy that I will be spending some of the little daylight hours we get in the UK at the moment the one thing I am not happy with is the fact that weekend after weekend it seems as though they are slipping away quicker and quicker. Melting into nothingness only for me to sit down on Sunday evening and wonder where an earth my Saturday and Sunday have disappeared to leaving me with no option to start rallying around a search party in order to look for my lost hours. 

This weekend was busy for Mr. Warehouse and I, starting with a Pet Photo Shoot we won a few weeks ago for our (OK his) pooch. Heading out to the studio we were excited and Christmas Jumpers at the ready, yes even the dog had one, we were looking forward to capturing forever our little furry baby for eternity. After having a few photo shoots myself before I knew how it all worked, the seeds of compliments and quick sneak-peeks at the screen all planted in well enough time so that the hard sell after in the viewing room is a pressure pot of beautiful images and painful bank balances. Arriving at the studio we met the photographer, an amazing guy who put us both at ease very quickly, not to mention our over-excited Pup! 

But a dilemma was on the horizon. The virtual PA had accidentally booked all of the photographers clients in for the wrong time, not realising that England have a time-zone change every Autumn. With the photographer deeply sorry, we started our shoot although twenty minutes in there was a phone call. It was another family that had also been booked in at the same time as Mr. Warehouse and I. They were over fifteen minute late for their slot but still expected a full hours shoot. Sincerely apologetic the photographer asked if we would be so kind as to let the family have theirs and return an hour later so as to finish off. We obliged, the dog probably as happy as we were to have a little relaxing break in-between. 

Taking her out for a walk and a toilet break we watched as a white Porshe Cayenne pulled into the yard. Judging them already Mr. Warehouse and I looked at each other as a middle aged couple stepped out of the car, greying hair and preened to a upper class perfection. Out of the back seats came three rowdy children, two boys and a little girl, again all primped and polished to a Mayfair standard. Herding them all inside out of the rain we listened to the families posh chatter and lack of apology for being late drift off inside. Finishing our walk quicker than we wanted, Mr. Warehouse and I headed back indoors to the reception and out of the cold and wet with our slightly soggy pet. Sat in the photographers waiting room we could hear nothing but tears and tantrums from the studio. A few times there were some softly spoken telling-off's from what I imagine to be Mom and Dad but to no avail for poor little what-ever did not seem to give any fucks about opening the door and being a general little brat and the other children appeared to sound the same. 

After their shoot they came walking out past both me, my other half and our doggy, smiling all in the knowledge we knew how unruly their little angels really are. With the polite waves from the photographer the door closed and I noticed the relief that spread on his face like warm butter on toast. Laughing our way back into the studio in order to finish up, Mr. Warehouse, the photographer and I gossipped on the family of La-Di-Da posho's as we posed once more with our beloved Canine and again we were told how good, beautiful and of well-temperament she was leaving Mr. Warehouse and I beaming like new parents. 

Soon it came to an end and we didn't even have a chance to swap into our festive gear. Nevertheless we were more than excited to see the snaps and I can already feel our credit cards itching. But that will all have to wait for York is awaiting and so is that nice little cottage of ours! Mmmm ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx