Hey,
"Save The Dates" still on hold (I know, I know) Mr Warehouse have been making other plans and desperately trying to negotiate that guest list down. As described in the post a few months ago "The Gluttonous Guest List", our original rough number of about 65-70 for day guests is creeping up and up and the majority of our wedding party was more "Warehouse=family-heavy". With our venue, a stunning village hall in Stagsden, nestled away in the heart of the Bedfordshire countryside, its pretty hall and ideallic gravelled garden I am sure will be plenty big enough for our guests. Although more recently, cutting down our wedding guest list is like Hercules battling Hydra – cut one person and two more seem to grow in their place.
However, with mine and Mr Warehouses most recent look at the serious swelling of our guests and that with the addition of kids, cousins, cousins kids and every man and his dog it is easy to see how things have quickly got out of control. Seeking out some advice online, I have yet again stumbled upon the website Bridebook.co.uk - Pretty much a one-stop-shop on all things wedding and getting married. Some advice they have on guest list has been really helpful such as cutting out children from the wedding party, for part or even the whole day! "This is a dilemma lots of brides and grooms struggle to settle within themselves, never mind with each other. But you’re not a bad person for requesting this – lots of couples do. Not only does it cut costs and numbers but it gives the parents a night off to enjoy themselves too if they so wish" Bridebook.co.uk says. Some helpful advice we have known about for a while. Mr Warehouse and I tried to broach this subject a few times however it always ended in disagreement as there are far too many children.
I suppose I sort of just thought that family is family and whilst I hate not being able to put mom, dad and kids, heck even the family hound on the invite it is something that we simply cannot afford. If we just work with the adults here, that is everyone over the age of 10/12 (with a few exceptions of the close family members) the numbers come to about 85-90. Introduce all those cherubs and darlings and you have a wedding party of well over a hundred. No problem and all fun and games until you realise these people need to eat and the cost of that is already a bone of contention as the "W" seems to increase the price several times over!
I mean we could always Billy bullshit an excuse, saying that we were not allowed to have any children at the venue, however, I very much doubt that this would have been the case since the Warehouses are very accustomed to the church we are going to be wed in. Instead, we have decided to be totally honest and upfront about our plans for our big day and have asked all of those family members that have children if they would mind us just inviting mom and dad. I was surprised (although I am not sure as to why) that people have been totally OK about it all, some of them relieved they can leave the kiddi-winks at home or with a babysitter and enjoy the evening letting their hair down. Truth be told they are all understanding that weddings can be and are expensive and so as much as we would love to invite all the children of our friends and family, it is only possible to accommodate the children of close family, mainly down to cost.
After reaching out I was glad and relieved at how many people had said that it was our special day and whatever we wanted they would accept. If it was children then great or no children still great. I was pleased with the relaxed attitude and feelings everyone replied with and truth be told good make me feel a little silly for sweating so much over it all. So does that mean that Mr Warehouse and I will be sending out our "Save The Dates" this weekend? Well maybe not as we have a few things planned and in the pipeline for home renovations and summer fun, however, I am sure that once we do get round to it in the next couple of months we will have a much better idea on numbers and therefore invites, favours and catering will all be much, much easier.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Un-Complicated. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Un-Complicated. Show all posts
Monday, 29 July 2019
Monday, 28 January 2019
The Gluttonous Guest List
Hello one and all!
Shocked and disgusted I ended the phone call to the caterer. I am beyond the words to describe the sort of supplier that would not just double but nearly triple the price for a wedding sit-down meal in comparison to the same event without such connotations. Mr Warehouse's and My wedding is, as I said before, essentially a "family event" and should have no rhyme or reason as to a catering company increasing their prices so drastically. I assured you all last week that I should get a resolve and indeed I have, although not one I wanted.
In response to a phone call with another young lady in the office as the main manager was conveniently unavailable for my phone calls, I was told that "further to your recent conversation with the Catering Department, unfortunately, it is not a viable option for us to provide catering for your Wedding due to the overheads involved as the waitressing staff alone cost £12 per hour. As discussed we are unable to provide other peoples food alongside our own and we only ever cater for an entire event. We feel it may be best that you go with the alternative catering company. We are sorry that we have been unable to help you further on this occasion."
Frustrated and annoyed I informed them that it was "unfortunate that I was not able to speak with the manager but that we will as a result not be using yourselves and would be hesitant to use your services or restaurant again but we will be sure to take our £1,500.00+ order and use a caterer that does not put up their prices by nearly treble the original when catering, no matter what the event be it wedding or small family affair as ours is."
And so the hunt is still on. For caterers and for Wedding suppliers or items alike. This week has left me a little blue since there is not much now left to organise, email about or call people to get quotes for. Most of the sourcing of suppliers has been done and the booking process won't be much far behind that. Since Mr Warehouse keeps insisting that we can't afford a holiday this year (I think we can with a variety of vouchers, money off codes and a good old haggle) I have thrown myself head first into Wedding Planning and some would say maybe neglect my gorgeous Hubby-To-Be, putting all of my focus and energy into planning our dream day.
After settling down to a rough number we realised that the majority of our wedding Party was more "Warehouse-Heavy". Our venue is stunning or at least will be by the time we put our stamp on it. Nestled in the heart of the Bedfordshire Countryside, Stagsden Village Hall is an old school house converted into a pretty hall with an ideallic gravelled garden and interior features. Large tall and wide windows will perfectly frame our top table and the wooden floors will be partied on all night long I am sure of it. With round tables, it was the perfect venue and ticked all the boxes including plenty of room for outdoors mingling and fun, plus extra space to bung the kids when they get rowdy or tired. The chairs are unsightly but I am sure that they can be tarted up.
However, with Mr Warehouse and I looking at was the guest list and how much it is swelling with each and every month that seems to pass with the addition of kids, cousins, cousins kids and every man and his dog it is easy to see how things can quickly get out of control. If we just work with the adults here, that is everyone over the age of eighteen (with a few exceptions) the numbers come to about sixty to sixty-five. Introduce all those under legal drinking age and you have a wedding party of nearly ninety already. No problem and all fun and games until you realise these people need to eat and the cost of that is already a bone of contention as the "W" seems to swell the price like an excited horse in a field of fillies!
I have a few ideas up my sleeve in respects of getting what I want. I always do. Well, most of the time. But if I don't then there are always a few good alternatives that are less costly but don't necessarily rely on the whole served-at-your-seat vibe, more of a DIY serve from the table kinda vibe. And so I suppose until next week wish me luck in finding a desperate supplier for a broke-ass Bride and Groom!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Shocked and disgusted I ended the phone call to the caterer. I am beyond the words to describe the sort of supplier that would not just double but nearly triple the price for a wedding sit-down meal in comparison to the same event without such connotations. Mr Warehouse's and My wedding is, as I said before, essentially a "family event" and should have no rhyme or reason as to a catering company increasing their prices so drastically. I assured you all last week that I should get a resolve and indeed I have, although not one I wanted.
In response to a phone call with another young lady in the office as the main manager was conveniently unavailable for my phone calls, I was told that "further to your recent conversation with the Catering Department, unfortunately, it is not a viable option for us to provide catering for your Wedding due to the overheads involved as the waitressing staff alone cost £12 per hour. As discussed we are unable to provide other peoples food alongside our own and we only ever cater for an entire event. We feel it may be best that you go with the alternative catering company. We are sorry that we have been unable to help you further on this occasion."
Frustrated and annoyed I informed them that it was "unfortunate that I was not able to speak with the manager but that we will as a result not be using yourselves and would be hesitant to use your services or restaurant again but we will be sure to take our £1,500.00+ order and use a caterer that does not put up their prices by nearly treble the original when catering, no matter what the event be it wedding or small family affair as ours is."
And so the hunt is still on. For caterers and for Wedding suppliers or items alike. This week has left me a little blue since there is not much now left to organise, email about or call people to get quotes for. Most of the sourcing of suppliers has been done and the booking process won't be much far behind that. Since Mr Warehouse keeps insisting that we can't afford a holiday this year (I think we can with a variety of vouchers, money off codes and a good old haggle) I have thrown myself head first into Wedding Planning and some would say maybe neglect my gorgeous Hubby-To-Be, putting all of my focus and energy into planning our dream day.
After settling down to a rough number we realised that the majority of our wedding Party was more "Warehouse-Heavy". Our venue is stunning or at least will be by the time we put our stamp on it. Nestled in the heart of the Bedfordshire Countryside, Stagsden Village Hall is an old school house converted into a pretty hall with an ideallic gravelled garden and interior features. Large tall and wide windows will perfectly frame our top table and the wooden floors will be partied on all night long I am sure of it. With round tables, it was the perfect venue and ticked all the boxes including plenty of room for outdoors mingling and fun, plus extra space to bung the kids when they get rowdy or tired. The chairs are unsightly but I am sure that they can be tarted up.
I have a few ideas up my sleeve in respects of getting what I want. I always do. Well, most of the time. But if I don't then there are always a few good alternatives that are less costly but don't necessarily rely on the whole served-at-your-seat vibe, more of a DIY serve from the table kinda vibe. And so I suppose until next week wish me luck in finding a desperate supplier for a broke-ass Bride and Groom!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 17 March 2014
The Secret Is Out!
Bloggers Note: I
have recently decided to start a thing going whereby if you yourself
have a 'Trial or Tribulation' that I can help with then feel free to
drop me a free and fully confidential message by popping it on a mini
form in the right-hand sidebar or email me at: Abbbey4@gmail.com :) xx
Heyy,
So after last week's slushy episode I should probably digress why life has been so fulfilling of late. The weekend just gone was exhausting to say the least but nevertheless a productive and happy one. The weather was great and as I lay their in bed on Sunday, the sunshine pouring through the window I thought to myself that after everything, after every single little thing in my existence so far, was this the beginning of something wonderful. And then my phone rang; Crashing me back down to the reality that it would not be for another few hours until my nearest and dearest knew nothing of my announcement. It was Miss Tweedle-Dumb wanting to know if I and Miss Tweedle-Dee were still up for a roast later on. Its food so of course I said yes and without further a do got up and ready with my day. After taking a shower and trying to solve all the worlds problems as the steaming water washed over my body I dressed myself in some comfy clothes and headed out into the second scorcher-weekend of what will be a long and eventful summer, fully aware that I was probably going to be at least ten-minutes late meeting Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb.
Soon enough though I was with them and was laughing and being laughed at as per the norm. Wandering around their local supermarket trying not to be spotted by friends of Mr. Workaholic's, I was secretly hoping I wouldn't have to spill my beans before our roast dinner. Finally home to Miss Tweedle-Dee's Parent's kitchen. Music loud, wine flowing and dancing around in the kitchen, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I shared the preparations of the roast between us. Between all the hard work of doing dinner we all still had time to sit in the garden and make use of some expensive garden furniture soaking up the sun as it drifted in the cloudless sky. 'I couldn't wish for this to be any better' I thought to myself, watching my friends screw around in the kitchen, throwing some odd dance moves and attempting to sexy-dance (I stress attempt! LOL) I was sure I knew in my heart that they would still love me and not be too angry with my news. Didn't stop me taking a nervous poo before we sat round the table to our homemade roast dinner. Taking a deep breath I began my well rehearsed monologue I had been planning.
"Thank you god, despite there not really being one, for this food" I started, cracking a joke to ease tension. "And I pray that you will help my friends to forgive me for what I say next." I finished. Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb right on queue put down their eating utensils and looked me straight in the eye. Miss Tweedle-Dee was the first one to pipe up. "What?" she said with a disconcerting look on her face. Perplexity continued as I looked to Miss Tweedle-Dumb.Taking another breath and a fork full of cabbage I divulged the days before ...
* * *
Stroking my eyelashes with mascara I hoped it would not run later on. Slipping into some comfy flat's I headed outside to yet another glorious day in March. Walking down the road, head held high and my mood improved by the fact my legs were bare for the first time this year I felt good about myself. Happy even. It was a plan that I had hoped would happen for a while and now it was finally here I felt sure I was in control. Approaching a familiar pub, the feelings of nine months ago on a sweltering August afternoon flooded my memory. Before having a chance to wash them out before his imminent arrival he was there, fingers resting gently on my shoulder. Turning round I saw a face I recognised. Blue eyes and hair all a mess it was something I had craved for some time. Dear old Mr. Cheese.
Taking a step inside the bar we spent our first date in (after an awkward encounter at the wrong bridge by the riverside) we made our way to the beer garden. As we sat in the warm spring sun again I felt myself being sucked in by Mr. Cheese and his humble almost invisible charm. There was a reason this venue had been chosen and I was glad of it. Nothing had changed, right down to the mammoth bumble-bee circling our beverages. Making small talk I wondered if we would ever get down to the real reason we both agreed to this meeting. Mr. Cheese started with some words he had said before, nothing to elaborate but nevertheless I knew that in his head nothing had changed. Or at least that's how it came across. We continued conversation as I let him have the floor, knowing in my heart that I had yet again set myself up for another fall and that within a few hours I would be on a kitchen-floor-reset, crying into my meal-for-one whilst attempting to sing along to Ed Sheeran.
I fought my corner though, biting back in the knowledge that this was it. Responding to Mr. Cheese's fears of me wanting more than just a secure relationship I explained that I am able to compartmentalise life, categorising and understanding that yes, whilst I one day want to be a wife and a mother with a perfect lawn and well-risen muffins I also want to go out and explore the world and what it has to offer. I want to go travelling and experience more of life. I want to hug camels in Saudi Arabia and eat odd fruits in an Indian market. I want to cuddle an orphan baby panda and run with horses in the great plains of America. I want to dance with random Mexicans and I want to have a story to tell people including a Wombat in Australia. I am quiet happy to do that alone, but everything is much better with company. I made this clear to Mr. Cheese that all I wanted and all I have ever wanted was stability. Something concrete that I can you are mine and I am yours. But sadly it was too late. Silence fell after that. Trying to make eye contact I sipped my ginger beer, not quiet enjoying it as much as they do on the adverts. Mr. Cheese refused to let himself look at me in they eye. He wasn't telling me something. After sometime I broke the ice.
"I miss you" I said nervously looking to Mr. Cheese for reassurance. Out croaked a response and with it a threat that those beautiful blue eyes of his would spill out tears - "Me too". I said that we should leave, mainly meaning me as I didn't want to be the only party not crying when it came down to saying goodbye for the final time. But Mr. Cheese had different plans. Walking out of the small, quiet pub we walked down towards the river not saying much at all. As we approached the park it was clear Monsieur Fromage had more to say than goodbye. Watching the parents and children play on the swings I wondered silently whether I had been too intense. Had I pushed too far? Had I said too much? Had I not done enough? Suddenly I was transported back to an empty two-bed-semi in a perfect Northamptonshire suburb on a empty bedroom floor and the feelings I felt when Mr. Workaholic left me creeped back into my sole like an unwelcomed disease. Counteracting the demons of my past I started to list all the things I wont miss about being in Mr. Cheese's company. The insatiable need for a good cup of loose-leafed tea brewed to perfection. The imperative compulsion for a good-nights-sleep without dreaming. The way he would style his hair and that hideous taste in both fashion and music. But then I noticed that I wasn't listing the things I disliked about Mr. Cheese, I was depreciating the fact that they were no longer in my life any more and now I was just rolling off all the things I truly enjoyed about his company and those little things that enriched my life so much beforehand.
Suddenly he stopped. Under a tree. An unknown tree. A simple tree that had probably seen many a movie-scripted-moment. I hadn't even had a chance to say anything before I was thrust into the arms of Mr. Cheese. Oh how I missed this, his warmth and cuddliness. Oh how much I wanted to snuggle my face into his chest wig and tippee boobs. Although something overshadowed us, and it wasn't the inconspicuous tree. Through a muffled little voice that I felt may be crying I heard something I had almost given up all hope on.
"Abbey-Louise" Mr. Cheese mumbled. Replying with a simple yes he continued "I think I have made a grave mistake". Pulling away from his arms I took his hands and lifted his wet, bearded face.
"Only you can change that" I said stating the obviousness that had existed since the summer before. Sniffling back more tears Mr. Cheese cleared his throat. Summoning up all that he had left Mr. Cheese opened his mouth and what fell out was this - "I want you"
"Are you sure?" I asked wanting to make positive what I had just heard. I was greeted with the answer that Mr. Cheese had never been more surer of anything in his life. I made him happier than beyond his wildest imaginations and liked me for who I was, wobbles and all. Mr. Cheese wanted me back. Mr. Cheese wanted us to give it a go. Mr. Cheese wanted me!
And so that was that, as we emerged from the shade of what shall be known in my head as 'Our Tree' (what a sentimental sap I am) I felt happier than I had felt in months. Finally life was on track. I have the job. I have the home. I have the social-life. I have the friends and now I have the Boyfriend!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Heyy,
So after last week's slushy episode I should probably digress why life has been so fulfilling of late. The weekend just gone was exhausting to say the least but nevertheless a productive and happy one. The weather was great and as I lay their in bed on Sunday, the sunshine pouring through the window I thought to myself that after everything, after every single little thing in my existence so far, was this the beginning of something wonderful. And then my phone rang; Crashing me back down to the reality that it would not be for another few hours until my nearest and dearest knew nothing of my announcement. It was Miss Tweedle-Dumb wanting to know if I and Miss Tweedle-Dee were still up for a roast later on. Its food so of course I said yes and without further a do got up and ready with my day. After taking a shower and trying to solve all the worlds problems as the steaming water washed over my body I dressed myself in some comfy clothes and headed out into the second scorcher-weekend of what will be a long and eventful summer, fully aware that I was probably going to be at least ten-minutes late meeting Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb.
Soon enough though I was with them and was laughing and being laughed at as per the norm. Wandering around their local supermarket trying not to be spotted by friends of Mr. Workaholic's, I was secretly hoping I wouldn't have to spill my beans before our roast dinner. Finally home to Miss Tweedle-Dee's Parent's kitchen. Music loud, wine flowing and dancing around in the kitchen, Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and I shared the preparations of the roast between us. Between all the hard work of doing dinner we all still had time to sit in the garden and make use of some expensive garden furniture soaking up the sun as it drifted in the cloudless sky. 'I couldn't wish for this to be any better' I thought to myself, watching my friends screw around in the kitchen, throwing some odd dance moves and attempting to sexy-dance (I stress attempt! LOL) I was sure I knew in my heart that they would still love me and not be too angry with my news. Didn't stop me taking a nervous poo before we sat round the table to our homemade roast dinner. Taking a deep breath I began my well rehearsed monologue I had been planning.
"Thank you god, despite there not really being one, for this food" I started, cracking a joke to ease tension. "And I pray that you will help my friends to forgive me for what I say next." I finished. Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb right on queue put down their eating utensils and looked me straight in the eye. Miss Tweedle-Dee was the first one to pipe up. "What?" she said with a disconcerting look on her face. Perplexity continued as I looked to Miss Tweedle-Dumb.Taking another breath and a fork full of cabbage I divulged the days before ...
* * *
Stroking my eyelashes with mascara I hoped it would not run later on. Slipping into some comfy flat's I headed outside to yet another glorious day in March. Walking down the road, head held high and my mood improved by the fact my legs were bare for the first time this year I felt good about myself. Happy even. It was a plan that I had hoped would happen for a while and now it was finally here I felt sure I was in control. Approaching a familiar pub, the feelings of nine months ago on a sweltering August afternoon flooded my memory. Before having a chance to wash them out before his imminent arrival he was there, fingers resting gently on my shoulder. Turning round I saw a face I recognised. Blue eyes and hair all a mess it was something I had craved for some time. Dear old Mr. Cheese.
Taking a step inside the bar we spent our first date in (after an awkward encounter at the wrong bridge by the riverside) we made our way to the beer garden. As we sat in the warm spring sun again I felt myself being sucked in by Mr. Cheese and his humble almost invisible charm. There was a reason this venue had been chosen and I was glad of it. Nothing had changed, right down to the mammoth bumble-bee circling our beverages. Making small talk I wondered if we would ever get down to the real reason we both agreed to this meeting. Mr. Cheese started with some words he had said before, nothing to elaborate but nevertheless I knew that in his head nothing had changed. Or at least that's how it came across. We continued conversation as I let him have the floor, knowing in my heart that I had yet again set myself up for another fall and that within a few hours I would be on a kitchen-floor-reset, crying into my meal-for-one whilst attempting to sing along to Ed Sheeran.
I fought my corner though, biting back in the knowledge that this was it. Responding to Mr. Cheese's fears of me wanting more than just a secure relationship I explained that I am able to compartmentalise life, categorising and understanding that yes, whilst I one day want to be a wife and a mother with a perfect lawn and well-risen muffins I also want to go out and explore the world and what it has to offer. I want to go travelling and experience more of life. I want to hug camels in Saudi Arabia and eat odd fruits in an Indian market. I want to cuddle an orphan baby panda and run with horses in the great plains of America. I want to dance with random Mexicans and I want to have a story to tell people including a Wombat in Australia. I am quiet happy to do that alone, but everything is much better with company. I made this clear to Mr. Cheese that all I wanted and all I have ever wanted was stability. Something concrete that I can you are mine and I am yours. But sadly it was too late. Silence fell after that. Trying to make eye contact I sipped my ginger beer, not quiet enjoying it as much as they do on the adverts. Mr. Cheese refused to let himself look at me in they eye. He wasn't telling me something. After sometime I broke the ice.
"I miss you" I said nervously looking to Mr. Cheese for reassurance. Out croaked a response and with it a threat that those beautiful blue eyes of his would spill out tears - "Me too". I said that we should leave, mainly meaning me as I didn't want to be the only party not crying when it came down to saying goodbye for the final time. But Mr. Cheese had different plans. Walking out of the small, quiet pub we walked down towards the river not saying much at all. As we approached the park it was clear Monsieur Fromage had more to say than goodbye. Watching the parents and children play on the swings I wondered silently whether I had been too intense. Had I pushed too far? Had I said too much? Had I not done enough? Suddenly I was transported back to an empty two-bed-semi in a perfect Northamptonshire suburb on a empty bedroom floor and the feelings I felt when Mr. Workaholic left me creeped back into my sole like an unwelcomed disease. Counteracting the demons of my past I started to list all the things I wont miss about being in Mr. Cheese's company. The insatiable need for a good cup of loose-leafed tea brewed to perfection. The imperative compulsion for a good-nights-sleep without dreaming. The way he would style his hair and that hideous taste in both fashion and music. But then I noticed that I wasn't listing the things I disliked about Mr. Cheese, I was depreciating the fact that they were no longer in my life any more and now I was just rolling off all the things I truly enjoyed about his company and those little things that enriched my life so much beforehand.
Suddenly he stopped. Under a tree. An unknown tree. A simple tree that had probably seen many a movie-scripted-moment. I hadn't even had a chance to say anything before I was thrust into the arms of Mr. Cheese. Oh how I missed this, his warmth and cuddliness. Oh how much I wanted to snuggle my face into his chest wig and tippee boobs. Although something overshadowed us, and it wasn't the inconspicuous tree. Through a muffled little voice that I felt may be crying I heard something I had almost given up all hope on.
"Abbey-Louise" Mr. Cheese mumbled. Replying with a simple yes he continued "I think I have made a grave mistake". Pulling away from his arms I took his hands and lifted his wet, bearded face.
"Only you can change that" I said stating the obviousness that had existed since the summer before. Sniffling back more tears Mr. Cheese cleared his throat. Summoning up all that he had left Mr. Cheese opened his mouth and what fell out was this - "I want you"
"Are you sure?" I asked wanting to make positive what I had just heard. I was greeted with the answer that Mr. Cheese had never been more surer of anything in his life. I made him happier than beyond his wildest imaginations and liked me for who I was, wobbles and all. Mr. Cheese wanted me back. Mr. Cheese wanted us to give it a go. Mr. Cheese wanted me!
And so that was that, as we emerged from the shade of what shall be known in my head as 'Our Tree' (what a sentimental sap I am) I felt happier than I had felt in months. Finally life was on track. I have the job. I have the home. I have the social-life. I have the friends and now I have the Boyfriend!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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