Consumerism and Christmas

Heyy, 

Nine days to go until the big day and I seem to be the only one who is prepped with everything bought pretty much and half of it wrapped already. This year I feel very organized. Last year not so much and next year who effing knows. All I know is that right now I kinda have my shit together. 

I do feel though that whilst my own Christmas list gets longer and longer each and every year with more books, bath bombs or alcohol, I do feel sometimes as though Christmas does become so embroiled in consumerism and material items. 

An article was written back in December 2018 from The Conversation still, I feel, rings true today. The commercialization of the festive period, from column inches about Christmas adverts and who has got what and where, to the appearance of gifts and merchandise on shelves, sometimes more than three months before Santa appears just eats into the spirit of things, and I have to be honest, that for me, it does. Like, is it just me or does Christmas seem to arrive earlier and earlier in the shops and supermarkets these days? 

In 2017, some estimates say that people in the UK spent on average around an extra £500 in December. That is a lot of money on what can only be assumed to be creating an atmosphere. The presents, the joy, the food, the entertainment. It all can add up. I can understand why. As this year will be the first year I am hosting, I can totally feel the pressure to get prepped and ready and organised so that I can relax and enjoy the time we all have with friends and families, especially given the circumstances last year. Now I am not hosting Christmas Day and luckily not Boxing Day either, but the day after (27th) I am due to be hosting a banging buffet. Do I know what I am buying? No. My Plan? Wing it and head to the reduced section in the days that lead up to it and buy what is on offer and what people will like, filling in the remaining bits and bobs as and when I need. 

This is however not what many people do. And rather than save all year round (because it is with no shock that Christmas day is on 25th December the year and will be the same next year and the year after) so really there is no excuse for not saving or being prepared. Because we want to show to people that we care about them and that we love them, and we tend to show this by purchasing gifts, sometimes lavishly and beyond our means. But for the high street and for internet retailers it’s hugely important. Estimates say somewhere between 20% and 40% of annual turnover is done over this period of really just a couple of months. For many retailers, Christmas is the time where they could make it or break it, and in recent years we have seen how broken it can get with the high street giants of Debenhams, Beales, Toys R Us, HMV, and others falling under and failing to keep their head above water. 

However when I think back to Christmas memories of mine, some of the things I remember most were not the presents but the people I was with. Aunties and Uncles, Grandparents and Siblings. To me, that’s the most important part of Christmas, well that and the food and the parties and the outfits and the drinking - And pressies. Does that make me materialistic? Who knows, but what I do know is that I think next year things might change and priorities will change to who needs what and how much. Christmas needs to become a time of memories and fun and happiness rather than who spent what and how many presents are in my stocking. Bring on Christmas 2022!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

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

Another year over and done with ...

Afternoon All,  

It goes without saying that last week's blog post was an emotional one and to be honest, the last few weeks have been since Saturday 19th December 2020 when that prat BoJo cancelled Christmas for millions across the Home Counties, despite the Prime Minister saying days beforehand that it would be “inhuman” to do so. 

Following the emergency announcement that our area was going into the most severe of tiers within hours (Tier 4) Mr Warehouse and I had to work out which side of the fence we were going to side with. Were we going to throw caution to the wind, say "fuck you Boris and Corona" and essentially carry on as planned and hope not to get caught out by the law; Or were we going to stick to what Government had advised and simply go without this Christmas in seeing friends and family? We chose the latter however with everything that has happened this year and how much has been stolen from not just me but my family as well, missing out on BBQ's, parties, seeing loved ones, birthdays, new babies, holidays and our damned fucking wedding (which I don't feel totally optimistic about going ahead next year either at the moment) would anyone blame us for wanting to act out?

But alas we did not. After much discussion, deliberation and heated debate (maybe some would call it an argument) Mr Warehouse and I settled on our Christmas 2020 plans. I called the restaurant for our traditional Christmas eve meal and cancelled our booking, something which I have not not done in all my 29 years. I called the venue we were due to visit on and have our Christmas dinner and again cancelled our plans. Boxing day I planned out which places I could still go out and do a spot of retail therapy in preparation for Christmas 2021, hoping it will be better. I booked in at the dentist and planned out "COVID-friendly" things to occupy my time whilst off work between Christmas and New Year - Tidy the spare room, spring clean the house, wallpaper the bedroom and list all those bits on eBay. 

Christmas eve was started watching daytime telly whilst munching on mince pies and a great big mug of coffee, hoping against all hopes that it would fill the hole. It didn't. I wanted nothing more for my morning binge to be interrupted by a news bulletin stating that we got it all wrong or that the PM had a change of heart or something. With Christmas bubbles axed and many areas including London, Bedfordshire, Hertfordshire and Buckinghamshire amongst other in the South East in basically fucking lockdown number 3 it was going to be the first time in my entire life that I would not be spending it with my family. I suppose you could even really think of it as the first Christmas I have spent with just my own little family, and maybe the last one as just me and my fiance as next year we anticipate a huge shin-dig and the following year we will hopefully have a little Christmas pudding of our own?

* pukes in mouth for being so sickeningly sweet and wholesome *

That afternoon Mr Warehouse and I went shopping and grabbed some bits for dinner that night and subsequent days in which we should have either been eating out or with others, something I know many other will have experienced in buying in food and bits when they had not expected such expense. Braving the shops and grabbing a few bits I knew we would like for picky-teas and snacking on, I knew that there are many more hundreds of thousands of families that are far worse off than I am and now, like us, they need to try and make the best and scrape together to make Christmas as best as they can. At least we had jobs to pay for the food in our basket. At least we had a roof over our heads. At least Mr Warehouse and I had each other. Rounding off the day with a KFC take-out and a Christmas film we headed to bed and anticipated Santa's arrival in the morning.

Dawn soon broke and after a peaceful sleep, something I have struggled with and still am since the new restrictions were in place, we headed downstairs to start the FaceTimes and WhatsApp video calls. Opening presents and gifts we had received from my Dad and his wife I was delighted with my box of mince pies, Chocolates and Phillip Schofield autobiography (not started it yet and will probably remain on my bookshelf for many months to come until my next holiday). Mr Warehouse also seemed pleased with his beer bread making kit, mint chocolate collection and football memorabilia.

After a long and chilly dog walk with our little one (our older pooch just can't handle long walks anymore and our fear of her hurting herself attempting it just isn't worth the pain of her puppy dog eyes when the leads come out) we stopped by the local village pub and picked up our Christmas dinner takeaway and headed home, gravy daintily positioned on my lap with Mr Warehouse all the while under strict instructions to drive carefully and not spill any of the boiling liquid. Once home we settled in for the afternoon and soon it was time to open my gifts from Mr Warehouse. Copious amounts of gin, a bottle of Baileys, make-up brushes and most of the stock items from LUSH not to mention the much needed and highly anticipated stationary for my new job (which, by this time next week I would have completed my first day in the office - Eeek!) With Christmas dinner done and out the way Mr Warehouse and I cuddled on the sofa with our dogs and binged on Xmas telly.

Truth be told it was a relief to have it all over and done with for another year, just finishing off what a shitty year it has been cannot come fast enough. I cannot begin to tell you how angry and depressed I have felt these last few days. And yes depressed is a strong word however I feel that it is relevant and strong enough for what I and others have and are still feeling. You know I am sure from previous posts and blogs that I do not use the words surrounding depression or mental health lightly and instead hope they add to the gravitas this situation needs. Yes my Christmas was not as bad as I had expected or as worse as I had made out in my head

All this being said however, I need to keep at the forefront of my mind that things will get better than this for it is only a temporary measure. I just hope that this is all worth the wait, worth the purging so that Mr Warehouse and I can finally have the year we were meant to have in 2020.

'Til next year, Love A.Lou xx

A Tale of Sorcery & Spooks

Hello One and All, 

So after smacking my head heavy off the corner of the ice-rink entrance last week, I was dazed a little to say the least. Whilst Mr Warehouse was pissing himself, literally nearly dying from lack of oxygen due to laughing so hard, I was starting to feel the effects of such a crash landing. I had stopped for a little, more so to give my leggies a rest more than anything, although sitting down Mr Warehouse stopped laughing and made a comment about how I didn't look well. The truth was that I didn't feel well. I felt sick. Like as if I was going to vomit. My skin felt weird, like that kind of flu-ey skin you get when you are ill. I couldn't concentrate, my eyes desperately trying to focus on anything. Something wasn't right. Reaching up to my head I felt searing hot pain spread across my skull accompanying a huge lump. At the size of an orange, I began getting irritable, shaking for no reason. 

I decided that after some painkillers, although truth be told I really could have done with going to Accident and Emergency but I didn't want to worry anyone or spoil my Nephew's birthday. Snoozing most of Sunday, I knew that things were not good when on day three you still have symptoms. Returning to work on Monday was like a whole other challenge as for the first time all weekend I had to really focus my attention on something important, like my job. Answering the phone, listening and concentrating on the screens all became harder and nausea didn't help. NHS guidelines state that it's totally normal to have symptoms such as a slight headache, feeling nauseous or dazed and these can last anywhere up to 2 weeks. Where I was normally on the ball I simply couldn't take it in, sometimes taking several attempts to read the simplest of sentences, not good for a busy and fast-paced environment. As the week progressed I felt better but realistically I should have gone to the hospital. The problem is I do not get paid for being off sick, apart from statutory sick pay from the Government (£70 a week - But when I earn more than £70 a day there isn't much point unless I am dying). 

I am glad for the feeling of "normal" to return because Friday was Bestie time! Miss Tweedle-Dee and I headed for a day out, checking into a hotel for a cheeky sleepover and hanging out in the City until nightfall! My dinner date was at The Alchemist on Bevis Mark. Describing itself as a new home for The Alchemist’s unique brand of cocktail bars & restaurants in Aldgate, Bevis Marks naturally attracted curiosity and with a unique location, it was a natural choice - Standing out as a glint of pure gold amidst the charcoal & black suits of the London’s business district. Suffice to say that The Alchemist does its business in a decidedly different way. Walking in the impressive golden bar gave way to a quieter restaurant area and a beautiful outdoor terrace, a perfect place for glorious sun and warm summer nights. However, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I had to settle with the fading winter sun to sample a selection of exquisite cocktails and stunning food, all accompanied by a theatrical experience. 

Starting our evening early I entered a world of theatre as my "Sailors Punch" Cocktail told its own story. Inspired by the spirits & flavours within, the molecular madness in an augmented reality started when Sailor Jerry Rum, Banana liquor, Pineapple & Coconut Bristol Syrup, and a dash of Citrus all turned up on a weird lined coaster. But using the App I downloaded it turned my drink into a far-flung Desert Islands where Pirates poached and Mermaids Merried. Miss Tweedle-Dee made a great decision - The Banoffee Manhattan! Espresso sloshed with a good helping of Monkey Shoulder Whisky, a few squirts of Monin Banana, tickled with Briottet Banana and brought alive by the dreamy Banoffee Foam! 

To. Die. For. 

Not feeling hungry I opted for a sharing starter platter consisting of BBQ Wings, Nachos, Pork Bon Bons, Mac ‘N’ Cheese Bites, Halloumi Sticks and Veg Sticks & Houmous. Finishing up before making a dash to our evening entertainment I chose my final cocktail of the night - The Colour Changing One! Grey Goose Vodka twisted with Briottet Apple, splashed with Soda, sparkled with Citrus and a little sprinkle of Magic. had this dry-ice drink changing colours from deep navies into vibrant pinks and mysterious purples. Watching the time we fast-walked to Aldgate Station to meet a man. Sounds creepy by we were actually about to encounter something much, much spookier as we dove into 1888. 

A Christmas present to my future Maid Of Honour, the Jack the Ripper walk offered a truly atmospheric route.  Miss Tweedle-Dee and I were guided (along with others, that would just be weird) into the old, narrow alleyways where we most certainly felt like we had been transported back to the mean streets of the Victorian East End. Along the tour, our guide, an ex-MI5 police investigator and anti-terror detective accompanied us to the murder sites and locations related to the Jack the Ripper murders. Learning more than just about the murders, I must say after doing so many different versions of the Jack The Ripper tours over my years of fascination, the guide - Who had served not only in the police force but undertaken military exercises including Afghanistan, Belfast and the Falklands - an almost exact background to my father, was incredible. Hosting several investigations into who the Ripper was and having detailed documentaries under his belt diving into the possibilities and struggles the forces had in catching him I was enthralled. By the end of the walk, not only was I exhausted and in need of my bed, but I also wanted to take this guy out for a pint and listen to all his fascinating stories and tales.

By the following morning, I was refreshed after a wonderful sleep in the hotel and after a light breakfast, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I departed, but not before commenting on how we should do something like that again. I mentioned a weekend in Edinburgh - Castles, Instgram-worthy photoshoots and Haunted tours galore. But the long journey and costly expense of it all wasn't something that was within reach at the moment, especially since Miss Tweedle-Dee is only a few months off being a fully-fledged adult like moi and having a mortgage. Maybe we will have to park that on the shelf that requires bigger bank balances along with sleepover's in deranged Liverpool mental asylums and hunting down a UK Horror Convention. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

London - Practically perfect in every way ...

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

The Best Christmas Gift of All is Family

Evening one and all, 

2020! Here. It. Is. Finally, the countdown can really begin to our wedding day! Eeek! But first I feel I need to explain as this is not only my first writing of the new decade, but also that it has been some time. Apologies as Christmas and New Years really did take over a little and I went from manic at my desk to my day job being catching up on crap telly and being Mr Warehouse's chauffeur to and from work (Unfortunately he had to work between the Christmas/New Year slump whilst I got it off). That being said I was glad of the break. 

Christmas went well. Or at least as well as to be expected. The evening before, Christmas Eve, was spent with Miss Tweedle-Dee eating fine food and drinking over-priced red wine. I had hoped that maybe Mr and Mrs Tweedle-Dumb would have been over before this point that they could have shared however this was not the case and at that precise moment were probably boarding said plane from L.A. to make the long journey back home. Nevertheless, Mr Warehouse and I were spoilt with gifts of chocolate and smellies and other treats, but the best thing was the experience vouchers she bought for us; Mr Warehouse's was an "Escape Room" experience to test our teamwork and nerves, and mine was a "Pig Petting Day". Looking on the website, Kew Little Pigs, I can tell already this is right up my street and I am ecstatic Miss Tweedle-Dee bought it for me! 

The website describes the Piggy Pet and Playday as a chance to meet a bunch of lovable new friends at Kew Little Pigs. "Discover a piggy paradise inside the petting pen for an hour and a half of fun, where you’ll meet the pigs by name, pet and play with them, and give them a good groom. The miniature pigs come in all shapes and sizes, each with their own unique personality, so guaranteed you’ll meet some real characters. Selfie seekers are always welcome, as the pigs love the spotlight and know exactly how to strike a pose!" Heading home I slipped into some new Pyjama's and desperately tried to stay awake to watch Elf - Our family Christmas movie, but with everyone cuddled up on the sofa, I could barely keep my eyes open. Heading to bed I snuggled into my plush Teddy Bear duvet set and drifted off to sleep. 

Christmas Day started well, gifts and presents from Mr Warehouse and I to our beloved animals, Frankenstein not quite understanding what was going on and our older one knowing exactly what was happening and where all the treats were! Mr Warehouse had bought some beautiful jewellery sets, earrings and necklaces as well as many a bath bomb (forever on my Christmas and Birthday Wish lists) as well as some more practical items such as salt and pepper shakers and make-up removal pads. Although I cannot be surprised when we did the Poundland Christmas Challenge. You take £10.00, visit your local Poundland (or discount retailer) and attempt to fill a stocking, in this instance for our better halves. It was such fun when doing it the weekend before Christmas, running around and hiding from each other whilst trying to sneakily hide so as not to get caught. What did I get Mr Warehouse you ask? Well, I thought that the replacement Stanley knife blades (mainly for his work), giant gummy cola bottle and water bottle all went down well as odd but appreciated presents. I think even when we have children, a big house and money is tight, I would like to always have this as our little thing we do every year. 

Following our fun, we packed up the car and headed over to my (future) brother-and-sister-in-laws house for presents with the kids, one niece and two nephews! Just as we finished unwrapping their generous gifts of more chocolate, alcohol and smellies Mr Warehouse's older brother and his wife arrived with their son and we continued the festivities until lunch. making a move we promised to see them again tomorrow and made our way to Nanny Pumpkins where the whole family was waiting for us. My Uncle from Ireland was over and so was my other uncle which was nice and my cousins were hyper full of chocolate and sugar no doubt being Christmas. Dad was on Dinner duties and Nanny was relaxing with my Auntie and a glass (or two) nattering away. Coming into the chaos I was glad to have made the decision I had to be involved this year as I was not in the best place last year. 

Just before we sat down to the feast we handed out our gifts and took receipt of mine and Mr Warehouse's appreciatively including a Chocolate Afternoon Tea experience, a meal out voucher, books, gaming gear (For the fiance) and other goodies. I noted though that Dad was quiet. After a difficult year for both of us and without going into too much detail, I wondered if I would have ever spent a Christmas with him again. I saw he was getting emotional and I knew what gift had put him there. I had thought many weeks ago about what final present I could get him when I came up with a good idea for a photo book containing as many pictures and photos of myself and my brother as possible. I knew it would cause some emotion to stir up and assumed that he would know what it was as soon as he opened it and just shuffle it away, but he didn't. He opened it and with that opened himself and started to weep in front of the family, something he was not able to do easily. I knew it was a good gift and wiping away the tears, his look told me that too.

Following dinner and pudding and games, people started to drift home, although not wanting to Mary Celeste my Nanny completely Mr Warehouse, the doggo's and I stayed for a little, chatting softly to my Nan as my Uncle dozed in the next room. It was at that point that I completely forgot about our present from our Wedding Photographer - Sophie Ann! A few days ago we had received a really sweet Christmas card from her, explaining that this was indeed my last Christmas as a Miss and that she looked forward to working with us in the new year. In there also was a raffle ticket that won a special Christmas present! We were number 37. But wait where was the raffle ticket. I panicked. Did it get thrown our with the wrapping paper rubbish? Was it tossed away? Oh god no! Searching I found it in the bottom of a gift bag and proceeded to Social Media to hunt for the big reveal. There it was for all to see. Selected number? 37! WE WON! Mr Warehouse had won a free engagement photo shoot and a chance to meet our photographer and chat before the big day. Uhhh what a weight off our mind! This truly had been one of the best Christmases in a while. No one argued, No one fought, No one drank too much. A classy Christmas all round. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Can you use the word "Dope" still at Twenty-Eight?

Heyy, 

Finally a night in for myself! Mr Warehouse dropped off at the pub and with my semi-healthy chicken salad kebab on stand-by I settled in for the night, feeding the hounds and getting comfy on the couch. It had been so long that I could barely contain my excitement when Mr Warehouse had said he was going to the pub and asked me for a lift. Gladly I dropped him off and anticipated an early-ish night. Mr Warehouse had joined Mr CWG for a night of laughs and lads banter at his old local in the next village over. But now I was home, as the night sky turned darker I had back to back Teen Mom UK, Teen Mom OG and all-new American Horror Story to catch up on. I was very much enjoying my overdue night in front of the box, well that was until I realised that a house is bigger than the old flat and after watching American Horror Story I promptly went around and locked all doors and windows, just in case you know ... 

Soon enough though I got a message. It was legible and spelt correctly so assumed that my future husband was totally fine and had not had too much sauce. However, as I pulled up outside the pub I was greeted by a rather sobered-up Mr CWG, however, Mr Warehouse, my darling sweet boy was absolutely sozzled. Bidding farewell and with promises of seeing each other within a few hours for my birthday party/get-together the following day, I proceeded to take Mr Warehouse home for a glass of water and a couple of paracetamol with a side order of bucket-by-the-bed. 

Pulling away I was met with screams as my burly bae decided that we were going to hit every car that was coming in the opposite direction. This was not the case and as I poodled down the at speed limit of thirty miles an hour, I was told that I was going "far too fast" and to "slow the fuck down". Nearly wetting myself with laughter I must admit I was barely able to keep my eyes open and on the road for how funny this all was. That was until, baring in mind that it was past midnight, I was overtaken by a motorcycle. 
"OOOH HARRY YOUR A WEEEZAAARD!" I heard Mr Warehouse exclaim in the actual worst Scottish accent I have ever heard. Unable to contain the laughter, it only egged him on as he carried on shouting and yelling that "yeeer a weeezaaard Harry! A weezard!" 

Squealing round every bend, twist and turn along the country roads, we finally arrived home, although not before me as the glorified taxi driver was groped and had to tell my gorgeous man off for fiddling with the radio and insisting that he played Heart FM, probably one of the worst things to listen to in the dead of night. Heading indoors we were greeted by the puppies and Mr Warehouse made a dash for the fridge, berating me that I had serviced myself in terms of getting a kebab and yet he was practically starving and wasting away! Hardly. 

Slamming a chicken burger into the microwave and heading to the toilet I thought that the special bucket (originally bought I think as we really tried with the whole adulting thing and planned to use it for washing up or cleaning however was now only reserved for really special nights out whereby someone has gone in a little too hard). Heading upstairs it was only a matter of moments before I was being preached too about the warnings of alcohol abuse and how Mr Warehouse "will never drink again", shortly followed by some long stints hanging out in our bathroom, blowing it from both ends the messy fuck. Least he had the special bowl with him for company as after asking if he was OK all alone in there I soon drifted off to sleep.  

The following morning I was yet again awoken to Frankenstein's borderline nauseating whining and crying and bitching! Oh ma gaad! When will this dog learn I will come down, eventually. I just wanted a fucking lay-in! Attending to him at a stark 6am, only a matter of hours after I fell asleep, leaving my betrothed on the bog with his head in a bucket of his own vomit. The house was far from party-ready and I was seriously reconsidering a cancellation, maybe faking illness or something just so I could lounge about all day in my PJ's and eat cake and binge on American Horror Story, this time in the daylight so the monsters don't seem so real. Returning Frankenstein to his cage and heading back to bed myself I knew it wouldn't be long before his whimpers and cries awake me once more. 

As morning broke, I greeted a very sore-headed bear downstairs and continued the war effort in order to get the place poppin' ready for some drinking and some partying. However, as 4pm rolled around, the start of the party, I realised by the number of cancellations that kept flooding through that there would only be a very select few that would actually turn up. I did, however, polish off nearly a whole bottle of Gin and shared a bottle (OK maybe shared was a strong word as it was barely half a glass) of prosecco with my Auntie, and many, many a Slimming World Syn in the sausage rolls and corn dogs - a feeble homage to my American bezzie Mrs Tweedle-Dumb who couldn't be here to share in this day a part of it!

The day itself went well and I enjoyed the company of all those bitches that could be arsed to turn up. I was spoilt too with pressies of wine and gin and Baileys Strawberries and Cream. From Miss Tweedle-Dee I received a stunning Morphe make-up Palette, along with a bottle of my fave perfume (Clean Rain if anyone is asking for Xmas!) and a super unique horror-film-inspired charm bracelet complete with Freddie, Jason and Chuckie encased in silver, and that was just to name a few. My lovely step-parents (Miss Tweedle-Dee's Mom and Dad) bought me a Pink Gin gift set, a Bathbomb advent calender and set of make-up brushes. Mr Warehouse spoilt me and showered me (literally) or maybe should I say bathed me in about ten different bath bombs, all from my fave store - LUSH, along with some HomeSense Schpoopy candles smelling like pumpkin shit and other fucking dope autumn smells (I'm twenty-eight can I use "dope" now?) and another stunning make-up palette, this time "Take me back to brazil" by BeautyBay. I was certainly spoilt and now am looking forward to counting down the last few days until I can finally say ... It's a year 'til my wedding day!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

And So The Healing Begins

Heyy, 

So last Tuesday was my birthday and whilst I did not mention this in last week's blog post, I thought that I would mention it now! Happy Birthday to me! It is always awkward when you have a birthday in the middle of the week. Everyone is working or have other commitments and dinner out was an expensive luxury to do twice. Instead I settled for my Birthday Eve when Mr. Warehouse and Miss Tweedle-Dee joined me to indulge in my favourite thing eating out and sushi. And although my best friend and boyfriend were not fully enjoying themselves - Miss Tweedle-Dee felt poorly and Mr. Warehouse was still unsure on the concept of raw fish - But I certainly wasn't and gorged on many dishes of salmon and sticky rice. 

Afterwards Mr. Warehouse, Miss Tweedle-Dee and I took an after dinner stroll and I was giving my birthday present from my bestie. Opening the different envelope they all contained information about a wonderful idea and something that was just otherworldly. With the run-up to Halloween coming quickly I am so excited for Autumn and Spookies to come, so with all of this in mind Miss Tweedle-Dee paid for us to both encounter the paranormal inside one of Britain's Most Haunted prisons - HMP Gloucester. 

The website states that HMP Gloucester has a long and chilling history with many of the executed criminals remain buried in the grounds of the prison. Some of the most infamous serial killers have been incarcerated within the walls of Gloucester Prison. The prison formally closed on 31 March 2013 but the suffering and torment is deeply etched within the fabric of this foreboding location. Originally built as the County Gaol in 1700s at a cost of £34,000 with a capacity of 350 prisoners each in separate cells, there were also separate cells for debtors of both sexes.Between 1792 and 1864 at least 102 executions took place using the considered more humane 'New Drop' style gallows with many of the executed being buried in unmarked graves where they still remain today. Join the team as we spend the night at the terrifying HMP Gloucester with the tormented souls that remain.

Miss Tweedle-Dee and I will start our overnight ghost hunt at HMP Gloucester in the afternoon of Saturday 20th October 2018 when my Besitie and I will drive, in her new car, down to Gloucestershire and check into the hotel to try and get some rest. Our experience will start at 9pm that night and will be sure to really test our nerve. An experience that we are sure will not forget and with suffering torment and death deeply etched into the very fabric of this imposing prison we may meet more than just the guide. Gloucester Prison was home to the notorious serial killer Fred West so during the night we might be in contact with him and all those who remain as Miss Tweedle-Dee and I join in carrying out seances, vigils and experiments in the most active areas of the imposing location. At 3am all is well as Miss Tweedle-Dee and I will return to the hotel, hopefully not possessed or contaminated by demonic spirits to sleep and the following day maybe some nice relaxing shopping ... Or maybe a trip to Church?!

One present that I did not expect to receive was an email in my inbox from a charitable organisation in the heart of Bedford called the Amicus Trust. In the email they detailed about how I had reached out to someone that could help me with my mental state and said that they were able to give me counselling sessions in order to work through my problems as quickly as possible so that life can get back on track. I am still on my medication but I  now feel quite pressured from loved ones to get things sorted and frankly it is becoming a little too much to bear. I know that people mean well and that in reality I am of the knowledge that I need to sort out these issues but first and foremost, I need to sort myself out.Trust me when I say that it is simply a long story that I may share with you another time.

Leaving the house with plenty of time on Friday morning just in case parking was a bitch, I was anxious as I always am at my first meeting with my current therapist. I found a parking space straight away and with that proceeded to scroll through my social media pages whilst I waited for an appropriate time when I would be able to walk through the doors without being too early. Locking my car and walking past many of the unscrupulous faces I saw on that Friday morning I realised that the the exact location of my therapy Sessions were actually in the heart of Bedford and area which is renowned for its poor reputation and well known for being a bad side of town. But with this in mind I thought that there would be no better place to have a charity or organisation such as the Amicus Trust.

Meeting the gentleman that I had been emailing for the last fortnight or so was interesting to say the least. He was extremely friendly and easy to get to know. Immediately I was relaxed and at ease with his company He offered me a cup of coffee which was nice as it was the morning and I have not eaten yet but it also helped in breaking the ice in what would otherwise be a rather emotionally fuelled situation. Sitting down at a large wooden table, the room was dimly lit and despite the large window next to the table being hidden by the blinds I could still hear the busy street outside. My Therapist was an larger framed gentleman maybe in his late fifties with long salt and pepper curly hair tied back in a ponytail. He wore a dusky purple corduroy shirt straight out of the 70s or 80s and with the skin tags littering his eyes and wrinkly face I knew that I can trust him. 

And so we began unravelling my tale. It is a complex and complicated one and something in which we only got to the bottom of this evening, however after the last two sessions I can safely say that things can be fixed and everything can be resolved one way or another. There are certainly a lot of issues that we need to work through and get to the bottom of but he assures me that it can all be mended. Its funny, walking out of my therapy session tonight has made me feel more positive and hopeful than I think I have felt in the last few months about my mental health and I am sure that I will work through it to get back to me again. It will be long and hard and difficult, but I'm ready!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Loch Stress Monster!

Evening, 

So after feeling so helpless last week my emotions are still a little bit all over the place and I think that this will probably be the case until well after the funeral on Friday of this week. I still I still feel as though I'm not in control even though I don't necessarily need to be. I almost get the impression that there is something that I am forgetting to do organised or plan. Something has been missed off my to-do list and I'm terrified that it will be on the day and at that very moment that I need it that I choose to remember. 

With all of this and more on my mind I felt that it would be an ample time to use some of the vouchers we got for Christmas on a spa day for Mr Warehouse and I. Well needed I think definitely I was looking forward to having some time relaxing and not thinking or worrying about anything. Including access to the swimming pool, sauna and steam room facilities plus a short treatment as well as a luscious afternoon tea with champagne was definitely what I needed. Arriving on on the day at the hotels reception, Mr Warehouse and I were welcomed into the premises with a nice cup of tea and coffee. Relaxing into the soft and comfy chairs of the Holiday Inn Corby lounge area we talked for a few moments and I wondered the last time we had had an opportunity to do such a thing together just the two of us. Truth we told that we hadn't actually probably since we had been to Bath back in late November. I think what with Christmas, New Year's, saving for the house and the more recent events of the last few months I will be the first one to admit that we probably have not spent that much quality time together just the two of us. Maybe I need to make some time for that. Hmmm ... 

After chilling out on the lounges by the pool it was time for my treatment. Heading down to the spa and Treatment Rooms I was excited and glad to be massaged for the next 25 minutes. That was until I met the masseuse. Taking me into the treatment room everything was going swimmingly and I was describing exactly how I would like to feel after my massage and what areas I would like her to concentrate on. On leaving the room I took off my bikini top and lay down as instructed beneath the towel blanket. Coming back into the room the masseuse soon whipped off the towel only to reveal my bikini bottoms still on. 

"Oh well those will need to be removed as they will make my blanket and bed wet. I'll leave the room again!" the masseuse said with a attitude problem. Feeling on edge and certainly far from relaxed I did as she asked and resumed my position on the bed. On coming back into the room she yet again tugged down the towel only this time, revealing my bare bum.  Trying to think nothing else of it I tried to relax. This was especially difficult when I was told that I was not in the best position for right angle. At one point I obviously was not relaxed enough for her liking to which she grabbed my arm and flopped it back and forth in an effort to 'loosen it up'. I can only assume at that both my arms are pretty tense and knotted since the angry Scottish lady had to do this several times with each arm which only seemed to aggravate her even more. When it came to working up to my neck and shoulder area I wasn't even given the chance to be told what I needed to do or how to relax as best as possible as the masseuse just grabbed my head and pushed it into whatever position she needed. 

Harping back to the days of my 2015 Blog post 'No Pain No Gain' of Mr. Masseuse, well I think I found his wife! I sometimes wonder to myself am I ever able to have a moment where life doesn't throw me a curve-ball or something as hilarious as this in order to be worthy of blog material. On finishing the massage I didn't think too much else of it and left the room feeling in a way on edge and not at all as though I had just had a relaxing massage. I was polite as ever and thanked the masseuse before exiting the spa only to see Mr Warehouse sat waiting for his treatment. I briefly explain to him that more likely than not he would have the same lady as I had and if this was the case then he should just relax, relax, relax! To be honest I would have just Shrugged it off as her attitude and something that may be had pissed her off earlier in the day had maybe put her in a foul mood, but when Mr Warehouse met me by poolside ready to go down for our afternoon tea, he too had explained how she had attempted the floppy arm manoeuvre on him also. Unfortunately the apparent desired effect have not had any workings on Mr Warehouse and therefore had been abruptly huffed at that if he was unable to relax his arms then there would be no point in her trying to massage them. We tried not to let it spoil the rest of our day however we would be lying to say that it didn't put a damper on it. Afternoon tea however was lovely and as ever very filling. 

Sitting here now thinking about it and after talking to work colleagues today in the office about how my weekend went, I suppose in a way I do kind of feel a little bit let down and disappointed generally with the experience that Mr. Warehouse and I had. Especially since this was meant to be a relaxing Sunday afternoon before what was going to be a very busy, hectic and emotional week 4 not just me but also Mr Warehouse also as he tries to support me through a difficult time. The pressure to look, talk, act and be a certain way is still immense and the whole idea that things will just go as they are on the day is simply not sitting right with me, causing me to be highly anxious and constantly worrying about everything and anything that could go wrong. 

It's becoming a bit stressful and overwhelming so truth be told I will be happy when I have said my part at the crematorium and event can relax with a drink or two, once I drive home of course. I worry constantly and feel like I am on a permanent wobble. I have even worried that this might be the beginning of that god awful cloud feeling.Sometimes I feel like I have to put on such an act for everyone, pretending to be happy-go-lucky and enjoying and loving life, Its long. I feel like I am forever walking on eggshells and scared of not upsetting someone or being inconsiderate or not saying or doing the right thing that its leaving me felling that whatever I do is never going to be good enough. 

All I can hope is that what everybody is telling me is the truth and that going forward everything will be OK. I think maybe I just need to slow down, calm down and collect myself and my thoughts. Everything will be Okay. I'm sure of it. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Festivities for Two!

Good Morning, 

So it would appear after the fun that I had last week I had forgotten to do a blog post. But surely I can be forgiven for it was Christmas day after all. However with all the last minute planning and preparation that went on it was a bit of a higgledee-piggledee day. I mean to put into contrast up until a fortnight before the big day me and Mr Warehouse had nowhere and no one to spend the big day with apart from our usual Christmas Day brunch at the home of one of Mr Warehouse's Brothers. On a casual chat to my Nanny Pumpkin we had arranged that Mr Warehouse and I would join her and my granddad to celebrate Christmas together. I suppose that some people would say we should have spent the day with our significant others families, however we've both Mr Warehouse's mum living too far away and my dad not making plans until the very last minute we decided to go it alone. 

With Christmas day falling on a Monday, in the days leading up to Santa coming Mr Warehouse and I set about seeing all the family members that we wouldn't normally see on the day itself, going round for tea, cake and seemingly collecting presents like they were Pokemon's. The evening before Mr Warehouse and I joined Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and her fiance to give our presents and enjoy possibly our last meal together since Miss Tweedle-Dumb's and her Hubby-to-be are emigrating to Canada after he bagged a job out there. Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and her fiance treated me to a travel wallet, gel nail manicure set, Bumble-Bee necklace and a few more things for my wish list. After what was a lovely meal at The Fancott near the M1 and Toddington we all parted ways and hoped the other had a wonderful Christmas. 

Waking the following morning it was strange not being met with my dad and his cooking for breakfast. No Eggs benedict or Eggs royale or even a slice of toast. Mr. Warehouse was so kind enough however to wake me up with a fresh cup of coffee. Opening our presents from other people we were pleasantly surprised and delighted with the wonderful gifts that everyone had thought of.Mostly from my aunties and uncles as well as my dad we have a lot of different things to do over the next few months. Lots of vouchers for meals out, cinema date nights and a birds of prey experience. This is in addition to the many boxes of chocolates, biscuits and other sweet treats. Mr. Warehouse spoilt to be with gifts of make-up, make-up brushes, jewelry from Pandora, a driving car experience day and lots, lot more items from my never-ending wish list. 

Heading over to brunch with Mr Warehouse's Brothers and family we were gifted more items of joy including beer, a ball launcher (mainly for the pup I think), yet more chocolate and other lovelies! Joking around with the idea that maybe next year Mr Warehouse and I can host Christmas Brunch in our own home. Bought or rented, well that is a whole other question. Following on from seeing the children open their presents, me and the bae headed to my grandparents house to continue our Christmas day as planned. 

And so with the big day over and the next few days off I settled in for a little R&R. The day after Boxing Day was spent by jumping straight back into the swing of things with getting my personal training sessions. Snow falling heavily Britain has definitely missed out on a White Christmas this year by a smidgin. Nevertheless I had plans to go into town hitting the shops in order to find a few bargains in the January sales that as usual had started earlier than January. But I left my TV and sofa called and so I spent the rest of that first day on my bottom. Unfortunately the following few games I was in too much aches and pains from my gym session with my Personal Trainer to do much. The remaining games off for me was spent on the couch, although I was able to get out on Friday and Sunday to hit the shops for a spot of retail therapy. 

As the days melted away I started to plan and look forward to spending New Year's Eve with Mr Warehouse's family welcoming in 2018. Disappointingly this turned out to not be the case as the establishment we were planning to spend the last few hours of 2017 was closed with very little warning. Pissed, I desperately began trying to ring around and talk to other venues in the local area that may be able to accommodate a large party consisting of both adults and children. A few were available but after all the effort Mr. Warehouse and I had decided to don the Jim-Jams and welcome in the New Year alone. 

The festive season for me has not entirely gone to plan and with my Granddad now in hospital recovering from a Thoracentesis procedure to drain the fluid from his lungs it has not been the best start to the year. I am hoping that 2018 will be good to me with a nice luxe beach holiday with Mr. Warehouse, more travelling and most importantly, lots of saving to be had in order to reach the goal of eventually Mr. Warehouse and I owning our own home, hopefully before the festivities of next year again. Better to start sooner rather than later! 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The Big Two-Five!

Hello, 

Finally the wait is over and I can finally tell you all about the surprise plans that I have had in place for the last few weeks. No these are not to do with a holiday that myself and Mr Warehouse will be going on in less than a fortnight. Nope, these are the wonderful birthday surprises that I have been keeping secrets from Mr Warehouse for the last few months. And with my birthday falling an exact month after Mr Warehouse's, I am sure that the same amount of effort and preparation is going into my presents and surprises as did his. 

It all started back in the beginning of the summer when I decided that it would be a lovely idea to celebrate Mr Warehouse's twenty-fifth year on the planet as best way I could buy throwing a surprise party / meal. I soon realised that after looking back on my 25th birthday party that Mr Warehouse would not appreciate being the centre of attention and a huge surprise. As a result it was plain to see that a nice sit down meal with the family and friends he held close would be the best idea. And so, over the coming weeks and months I researched into the different venues and restaurants that would be able to cater for what I needed. After settling on a local restaurant that specialised in Chinese with an all-you-can-eat party menu I was sold. 

The fact that they had a function room was even better as the parents of any children being brought along did not have to worry about them disrupting the other customers meals. It would mean that the adults and children alike could have freedom whilst celebrating with good food and even better company. I had the idyllic idea of setting up a colouring station with lots of colouring pages and pencils in one corner of the room in order to keep the children occupied whilst their parents ate. There would be like music in the background and a table for gifts and cards. Alas though this never came to fruition and I shall tell you as to why. 

After weeks of getting up just after Mr Warehouse had left for work at around 6am to bake several cakes in order to stack on top of each other in some sort of towering cake and frosting excellency, I failed and instead succumbed to the fact that I am no Mary Berry and decided to just bin it all and opt for a Waitrose "Ready-to-decorate" golden vanilla sponge cake. I will admit that yes I did indeed go to Waitrose on my lunch break and purchase a very plain cake and decorated it myself with chocolate icing and candles, all in the effort to pull off the idyllic birthday cake that I had imagined in my head. Of course though my imagination is a lot better than my ability in making and decorating cakes. Suffice to say that the cake went down better than the cheesecakes also brought for dessert. The guests even question as to whether it was homemade by myself. 

But waking on Friday morning to a excited Mr Warehouse, I made myself a cup of coffee and sat down with his birthday presents. Opening the birthday cards that had come in the post first from my Grandma and Nana, Mr Warehouse was delighted that this was the first year he had been given a birthday card by them both. Ripping open his other presents, Mr Warehouse unveiled the secret I had been keeping for the last few weeks and months. A belt, a super-large, fluffy bathrobe in Navy, a bag full of 2-penny coins so that we could go to the seaside and play on the arcades all day long whenever he wanted was just a few of the many gifts I bought him. But I saved the best until last. 

After a quick doctors appointment, I rushed over to the venue in order to decorate and drop off the cake and colouring pages. Making excuses to Mr Warehouse as to why I was leaving work late on a Friday, I walked into the venue only to discover that the hefty deposit that I had paid in order to secure the function room was in actual fact redundant and our guests would now be seated downstairs in the normal restaurant area. No colouring station for the kids, no designated area for presents or cards and certainly no display area for my knock-off-Nigel-cake. To say I was angry was an understatement however I did not have enough time to worry about this as I still have to get home get ready and back to the restaurant without Mr Warehouse assuming anything was wrong. 

Coming home I talked through my day as normal and explained that I was thoroughly looking forward to our date night. Hoofing Mr Warehouse out of the back door in order to walk the dog before we headed out I quickly called through to my Dad and the restaurant to make sure that the people had all started to arrive. Heading out the door I was shaking with nerves and anxious that Mr Warehouse may find out what my last and final surprise for his birthday may be. 

Driving down the road slightly I asked Mr Warehouse to go in my handbag to get me something. Unbeknown to the boyfriend he reached inside and picked out a small wrapped box. 

"Happy Birthday!" I exclaimed as I continued round the corner of the residential streets. Shocked and speechless I asked if it was a good present. Mr Warehouse had just opened up one of his last presents, a leather bound wallet with Marvel characters on the outside. Inside however was something even more Marvel-lous! For months all I kept hearing from the boyfriend was the fact that the now infamous Richard Jones who won Britain's Got Talent 2016 performing magic alongside a career in the military, was coming to Bedford in the autumn. I played hard to get and said that I did not know who Richard Jones was, but as Mr Warehouse went into full detail about who he was and what he did, I was secretly looking all the best seats in the house in order to see him live and in action. The money that I have paid for the tickets was certainly worth having Mr Warehouse speechless in the passenger seat of Vivienne. 

Still reeling from the surprise that his girlfriend had bought him pretty much front row tickets to the show that he had been looking at for the last six-months or so, I parked the car and we entered the restaurant. Shock again blessed Mr Warehouse's face as he looked around at the friends and family that had joined him to celebrate his birthday. There was maybe an inkling that someone may be up to no good when he noticed some guests walking in late as we approached the venue but other than that he was stunned. Pheeew! Finally I could breathe a sigh of relief, all in the knowledge that everything was over and I did not have to lie or sneak about anymore. 

In terms of the meal itself it was OK, however the combining factor that I had paid a lot of money for a deposit and with the promise of a function room only to be then seated with everyone else in the restaurant, plus the annoying factor that the restaurant staff did not even take out orders for another hour and a half totalled to making the experience less than satisfactory for myself. Parents of some of the youngest members of the party had to leave as they were already passed their bedtime and they only had the opportunity to consume the starters. Anyone with all other children older than toddlers were asked to cough-up as despite the children not eating from the menu they were still snacking on Prawn Crackers and tit-bits from their parents plates. The colouring pens and pencils as well as the drawings were only helping the children so much and as the Borden crept in from sitting at a empty table for so long the noise of the restaurant got louder. This was not what I wanted and certainly not something that I have signed up to when I spoke to the restaurant originally to host the event. 

However, that being said the food was lovely as always and freshly prepared to order, and all in all I think that everybody had a good time including the birthday boy himself Mr Warehouse. But in no uncertain terms I have been told under no circumstances I am I ever to throw a surprise birthday party or meal again, so ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx