Love is friendship that has caught fire

Good Afternoon,  

Snow melted (again) and all but a distant memory from last week, although the lightness of the flurry made it seemingly stick around for longer, making me feel like I lived in Michigan or Canada every time I walked out of the front door to empty the bins. Alas there has been not much further progress with the spare room come office. Whilst I have indeed moved everything around and bought a nice office chair, the funky beanbag for the corner of the room has yet to be sourced, and said Mandela wall art has yet to be hung. To be honest I know how this will work - I will find multiple other things to occupy my weekend and evening time with than finish off said office / spare room and by the time I even think about getting round to it Boris would have said it is time to frequent the office again. Although when that is is another question entirely.

A week from now the country will be sat on tenterhooks as we wait to see which journalist was correct in their PM's predictions and which Newspaper is just full of dog shite like normal. This time next week we should hopefully know a little more about the reopening of the UK and a road-map to get out of this awful mess caused by Coronavirus. The BBC confirms that the death toll is fading fast with just over 250 being recorded yesterday (Sunday 14 February 2021), a drop of 50 or so in the last week. With more than 15 million people in the UK have now had their first dose of a coronavirus vaccine everyone is certainly pushing for the reopening to happen sooner rather than later. Prime Minister Boris Johnson has been aloof in his replies and ever so careful with what he is saying now in the count-down to when the government will set out a "roadmap" for easing restrictions in England on 22 February.

With months of frustration being cooped up in our houses, some with kids and others with snoring partners, you can understand why the public are chomping at the bit to get out and back to normality That being said though, this weekend I felt quite happy with the situation as it is. Celebrating Valentine's day yesterday was simply wonderful. Now I won't lie, it was hard looking back on Valentine's days of yesteryear knowing this one is not the same. Mr. Warehouse and I are not hopping on a train to London for the weekend as we would normally do. We were not, as we were last year, writing in our cards to each other the number of days until we were husband and wife, and I have yet to save that "Hubby" card for yet another year.

But despite the hardship and turmoil, we had fun. The morning was spent sipping coffee and reading our cards as we watched mindless TV and ate Percy Pig Pancakes (But I like to call him Peter Pork Head - sounds more street) from Marks and Spencer (which, like a brat, I was insisting Mr Warehouse buy me - Although annoyingly we forgot the Percy Pig Sauce). The afternoon we donned our wellies and fluffy big coats to walk the puppo's down at a local park and I was pleasantly surprised at the little one's recall ability, albeit with a tennis ball in hand.

That evening, after Mr Warehouse's other love (Arsenal) he made me a beautiful dinner which was incredible, again from the British establishment - Marks and Spencer. On the website First Dates (not from when I was on it I must say) Fred Sirieix serves up a fuss-free and next-level-tasty Dine-In-deal; Because to be fair where else are we going for a meal out other than maybe another room of our own home!? For us, it all started with a Gastropub inspired Runny centre scotch egg served on a bed of rocket. Next up was a rack of lamb smothered in a mustard herb crust served with the most fluffy and crispy triple cooked chips. To end on a super-sweet note, it’s got to be the cookie crumb topped billionaires dessert with chocolate and caramel sauce with caramel and Belgian chocolate ganache! Although by the time we got round to the dessert we were stuffed.

Of course, no Valentine's feast would be complete without a top tipple and chocs so the chocolate love bug choccies and dessert are our little Monday night treat. Speaking of which, I best go an stick dinner in ...

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

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

One Year On ...

Afternoon All, 

Hard to see how things have changed since this time last year. A lot has changed, however there are many things that are still the same old same old. Like my love for Cheese and Mr. Warehouse's obsession for recording stuff and not watching it on the iPlayer. But one thing is for sure, and as it approaches Valentines Day our love for each other is just as strong as last year if not moreso. Another thing that has grown stronger is our love for Pooch and given the circumstances surrounding last year I am glad we have made it this far with what was such a sad and desperate time. 

Mr. Warehouse and I noticed the pooch had a gunky eye first of all. It was closed and sore looking. Pups had not been well for some days, not eating properly, if at all and had a complete loss of interest in anything she used to love and enjoy. Worried if it was something more serious we bundled her into my car and headed to the Vets. Once the Veterinary nurse  had taken some swabs of her eyes and quizzed us both on our dog's habits and traits over the last few days. Mr. Warehouse proceeded to explain that pooch had been prescribed some medicine for a water infection a couple of weeks ago and it had seemed to clear it up but she had done a little accident two days earlier, which he put down to just being excited, although I and the Vet disagreed. When I explained that since she was originally owned by the Brother of Mr. Warehouse, she had not been spayed the Vet seemed evermore concerned. Then come a wave of peculiar questions that were all answered with a yes. At this point the Veterinarian seemed very anxious and asked our permission to take bloods to see how her vitals  were performing. When I asked the Veterinary nurse about what might be possibly wrong I expected it to be something small and easily treatable, but then cam her explanation. 

"She has what is called a Pyometra which is where the womb fills up with pus and as a result is extremely dangerous and life-threatening without treatment. An open-Pyo is where the cervix has opened up just enough to let the pus seep out which is still serious but can wait a few weeks for an appointment, however a closed-Pyo will mean it is essentially a ticking time-bomb, getting bigger and bigger and with no-where to go could burst at any moment, killing her." 

Shocked and shaking I asked about what we can do and what as owners our options were. She talked through the various routes we had but ultimately the cost was huge and we had to consider other options than surgery. Numbers and figures whirling around my head all with the thoughts that this was a very simple and easily preventable illness. I couldn't take it. My rage filling up inside that this was what we had to deal with because of someone else's negligence. The Veterinarian took some more swabs from Pooch's undercarriage and said that since there is no leakage that Mr. Warehouse and I had to prepare for the worst. Leaving our sickly pup in the hands of what would have appeared to be a very, very good Pet Doctor we left to grab a coffee and discuss our options. 

After Mr. Warehouse's Brother bought the bundle of fluff he handed her over, almost like a toy and into the care of  a teenage Mr. Warehouse and his Mom, both of whom worked and were not ready or prepared for an animal. But nevertheless they cared for her as best they could but as a adolescent man, no-one had kept her up to date on her vaccinations as a puppy or as an adult dog. Therefore as a result of this, her pet insurance had been invalidated years ago. Without it we were left in a very desperate situation. 

"We have a lot to talk about" I said, hoping that magically we would find the money or a solution would come to us in the darkness, only lit by street lamps on the side of a road, outside what we now know in the daylight as a church. Watching the cars windows steam with little talk and more silent tears, all I could see were dog walkers. We were one of them. We still are one of them. And we needed to find a way to fix her. She is our dog and Mr. Warehouse and I need to be strong for her because for every moment we have had a shitty day or been poorly or unhappy she has been there for us. Now it is our turn. Not just that but we have got so many things left to do together. Run on sandy beaches, Hop on a ferry for a holiday or just for her to share in some of life's biggest moments with Mr. Warehouse and I.

She was still on antibiotics and anti-inflammatory medication from the Vets but Mr. Warehouse and I decided to carry on with our Peak District Valentines break away with Pup but within twenty-four hours after coming off the meds, returning home our pooch got poorly again, signature eye infection and constantly licking her privates. Taking her to the Vets again they couldn't determine as to what was causing her upset. Asking to consult with colleagues we were left to discuss our financial options which were dwindling with every visit we seemed to make. With the prospects of a £1,500+ bill for the operation alone we were nervous of what the Vet had to say. 

After searching constantly for a way to get through this calling over one-hundred local vets and even ones as far as forty miles from where we called home. Mr. Warehouse never knew the sleepless nights or evenings I would spend researching charities or funding pages that may be able to help. I must admit though that I did look into the horrific alternative and the costs that it would incur. Every night I was left alone with the TV I would open up my laptop / tablet, pooch sat beside me, and nearly cry my heart out for the lack of help around. 


The next few hours and days were a blur until the weekend when Mr. Warehouse was accepted for a loan at the bank, funnily enough not actually needed for Pooch's Op but to try and better manage his debt and Credit Cards. Timing impeccable, we walked out of that room with a smile on our faces not only meant that we had secured Mr. Warehouse's financial status, but also that we could save our dogs life and in a way ours. A few days later I was nervous as I walked back into the Vets to collect Mr. Warehouse's pooch. What condition was she going to be in? Was she going to recover quickly? Had she peed on the floor in fear after the last time we arrived? But more importantly ... How much is it going to cost our little family financially? It had been a stressful few weeks leading up to that moment but the second the little student nurse brought out our furry baby we knew the decision to operate was the right one. She was so happy, the happiest we had seen her in some time. Her belly wasn't anywhere near as swollen as it once was and in its place was a shaved belly and a six-inch-scar, held together with little stitches. She had a bandage on her paw where she had her IV drip and fluids. Looked like some child had just been playing Doctors and Nurses with her to be honest. But she was defiantly feeling much better it would have seemed. And I suppose you would have felt better too if you saw what was removed. 

The infected womb that was removed was full, bulging and resembled haggis showed the photos took by surgeons. The Pyometra had got to the point of bursting and had even developed a small rupture which was found when the Vet's operated. Mr. Warehouse had been ever-so close to loosing our puppy and we were sure to make the most of life once she was back on her paws. And boy have we. All three of us ran along the freezing but sandy beaches of Great Yarmouth in spring last year, had many trips to the lake for swimming and attempted picnics and even managed a weekend away to Bath in a log cabin by a toasty fire which I think Pooch enjoyed very much. All in all we are so lucky to have her still and make her last few years with us the best they can be ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

New Year, New Ventures ...

Heyy, 

So there is was. Christmas. All over and done with for another year. Hard to believe that you have such a long build-up of anticipations for the months and weeks leading up to the big day, all enveloped with who has the best Christmas advert when do you put the turkey in and did you remember to buy Aunt Agnus a gift. And so begins the heavy hangover that is New Years. Back to work,cold and sometimes wet with little or no money it is a bleak outlook. It seems like Summer is such a long way off and nothing really to look forward to I cant help but look at summer holidays and spending countless bank holiday weekends with the other half and the dog. 

First place to hit up will be around Valentines day and whilst you would think that Mr. Warehouse and I would prefer a weekend to be together spending QT indulging in some romantic activities, we wont. Instead we will be heading (hopefully) to the Peak District right in the heart of England. It will be February and so therefore cold, probably very cold, although I am quite looking forward to a cosy AirBnb cottage in Bakewell, surrounded by miles of AONB Countryside, and fingers crossed a few flakes of snow. I suppose that yes it would be nice to go away for a couple of nights with Mr. Warehouse, just us and a nice hotel room somewhere, it just wouldn't feel right without pooch. We love her as much as we love each other and that is what is most important, spending time with the ones that you love, be it human or otherwise. 

Next on the agenda is ideally somewhere hot and exotic for a mine and the boyfriends first beach holiday. I know I can hardly believe that in all our travels we have yet to go to a proper beach holiday resort and tan until our hearts content. I have found a couple of nice ideas in the form of Agadir in Morocco and whilst they are not a million miles away they will still provide us the sort of holiday we would both be happy with. I had tried originally the Caribbean or Mexico but that is a little too expensive, especially if we are looking to go away in April's Easter Break. A ten-day holiday in the sun for the price of seven annual leave days from work and all for under the price of a normal week in the sun with the Girls I usually have I think is a bargain, I just hope Mr. Warehouse see's it that way. 

Maybe later in the year we can have another mini-break to Newquay or somewhere by the sea so Pup can feel the sand between her toes and maybe even as Autumn rolls round we might even be able to squeeze in another trip to Europe for a Christmas Market or even Iceland to see the Northern Lights. Although one step at a time, I think if I was to spell all this out to Mr. Warehouse right now he might have a stroke, and not the good kind. 

You see as a new years resolution this year I really want to travel more. Its been a good few years since Vegas and whilst the Miss Tweedle-Dumb and her boyfriend accompanied Miss Tweedle-Dee and her family on a trip back there just before Christmas last year it is something that I am now craving. And why not?! Mr. Warehouse and I have no other commitments other than his (and my adoptive) dog which Miss Tweede-Dee has kindly said she would dog and house sit whilst we were away. I now have a car so am not pressured to start learning anymore. I have a new job with better money so I want to afford the luxuries life has to offer. It is something I have come to realise is all to fragile and can be taken away at any given time without warning or planning. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Top 'O Tha Maarning T' Yas!

Hiya, 

So after last weeks entry I was very much anticipating my Gravediggers Ghost Bus Tour that evening however after a quick snack-a-roo en route to the stop in Dublin's City centre, Mr. Warehouse and I were saddened to hear the woops and roars of what appeared to be not one but two Hen Parties on board our tiny 30-something-seating double-decker bus. Now you guys know me, and after my messy Irish night out on the tiles with Mr. Warehouse I am never far from a party or two, but when your Hen Do is impacting on my ability to enjoy my last night on a romantic Ghost Bus Tour with my boyfriend who is shitting himself even before boarding said bus then we are really going to have a problem here! 

Boarding the Bus and getting to know everyone on-board, being the day after Valentine's Day we were all asked who we were and where we came from. In-between dick jokes and more slanderous comments from the obtuse Hen Parties either end of the bus, the rest of us not partaking in the tom-foolery discovered that we had a very international bus load of anxiously scared passengers ranging from Italy, Canada, USA, Finland, Brazil, Germany and not to forget the Brummy and Liverpudlian Hen's - Of course they were from the part of England with the very worst of accents! Wondering if there was any possibility murder or sudden mysterious forces would force the chants and drunken "banter" to stop we commenced what would be an OK tour made worse by such inhabitants. Oh where was the Irish famine and Plague when you needed it! 

Returning home that night and packing was nice as I knew in the morning after a glorious breakfast (of which it was) and a mooch around the shops, stopping at Pandora for the umpteenth time this trip we would be heading down to Callan, just outside Kilkenny on the borders of County Kilkenny and Tipperary in the beautiful green countryside of Ireland. 

The journey by coach was long, a little over two-hours, but certainly shorter than going back the other way. Stepping out into the cold, wet rain of the tiny village I was waved over to a car that had come to collect Mr. Warehouse and I. Realising it was my Uncle I went to load our things into the car and get out of the rain. Heading along the winding roads I worried at how Mr. Warehouse and my Uncle would get along, especially since before Christmas at their first encounter with each other they had not got off to the best start. But I need not have worried for by the time we arrived at my Aunts Cottage twenty-minutes or so later they were getting on like they had known each other for years. 

Settling in I helped with the dinner since my Auntie has never really liked cooking at the best of times, and besides, I had kind of missed it strangely. I suppose that is what eating out for Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner does to your mind - Makes you needy for mash and cooking veg! Sitting down to dinner we chatted for hours and days even, continuously loop-talking about life in general and how to make the world a better place, righting all the wrongs back home in England with family, friends and colleagues as well as some important issues like trying to explain to my drunken Aunt and Uncle what a 'Gooch' is and what 'Teabagging' was in a context outside of the arts and crafts world. 

The following days were spent mainly out of the area, visiting local points of interest and touring mainland Ireland. First outing was to Waterford, a small town renowned worldwide for its connection to Waterford Crystal alongside a fishing harbour, bordering County Kilkenny and Tipperary. I think I made the poor mistake of choosing a Latte when entering the Lily O'Brien's Chocolate Café. A mistake that right now I am regretting as Mr. Warehouse chose their luxury hot chocolate and after taking a sip I knew my coffee-infused decision, this time at least, was a bad one! 

Second outing was one I was not fully committed to in the beginning, I will be honest, but afterwards was totally blown away and so very glad I was made to visit. Cahir Castle had stood in the little village of the same name had been standing there for over eight-hundred-years and as the rain drizzled I entered the courtyards and gardens of the small stone castle I fell in love instantly. In my head it was impossibly easy to imagine hiring the whole thing out for the day to host a wedding, where in my head I was the Princess Bride and Mr. Warehouse was the brave Knight. His dog could be dressed up to look like a gallant steed and I would try to resist putting Mother of the Groom in a Jester outfit. The lawns were perfect for my dream of vintage fair games like coconut shy's, candy-floss machines and hog roasts, whilst the great hall and 18th Century barn conversion would host 'Ye Olde Wedding Ceremony' and reception afterwards. Little rooms and outhouses provided perfect escapes for guests to explore the old ruins and make-believe for a day that we were all Kings and Queens. Upon my way out I knew I would regret it if I didn't ask so collared the guide-lady to ask about holding a wedding there - Obviously not for myself of course!? But alas you shall have to await as the venue does not currently hold a marriage licence yet and is only able to accommodate a blessing so I shall have to wait for my dreamy Irish castle wedding for another day - Well that and a time where I am actually asked to be someone's Bride! 

Returning back to the cottage to help with firewood and the landscaping of a few garden areas in order to make way for oil/central heating to be put in (yes the cottage is really that old), Mr. Warehouse and I prepared to go home and back to reality and the following morning bid farewell to my Aunt and Uncles as we made the gruelling ten-hour trip back home to the 'Shire. 

Indeed I enjoyed my trip to the Green Isle and back home I am now looking forward to my next adventure with the other half ... Maybe somewhere beach-ier though?!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Having a Whale of a Time!

Hello there one and all from a strangely sunny Dublin?! 

Now, I say strangely as they don't call it "The Green Isle" for nothing you know and every time I have ever visited it has always been dreary and raining. However my holiday so far with Mr. Warehouse has been brilliant. Obviously last week there was talk of getting my Ta-Ta's out, although I think that was slightly optimistic given the fact that the weather out here is about the same temperature as back home in Blighty, not very warm indeed - ergo, no Ta-Ta's out this holiday! 

Lets start from the beginning shall we? So finishing work on Thursday at half day was as blissful as all half days usually are, although this one was manic as I had been up since 6am and had not stopped to sit down until I was either at work, the nail salon or the hairdressers! It was go-go-go from the moment I got up and after finishing my working (half) day it did not stop there as I continued my day collecting medication for Mr. Warehouse, posting parcels, sending letters, buying some last holiday bits, collecting some clothes and packing my case and that was not including the pampering disasters I had on the way. I arrived at the nail salon I went to just before Christmas to get my nails did which incidentally made no difference what-so-ever as they were chipped by the time I finished packing Thursday night in turn putting me in a foul mood to start with. And the foul mood didn't stop when I woke up on Friday morning ready for our afternoon flight from Birmingham International as the hair cut I had the previous day that looked lovely, if a little on the short side, I now discovered that in actual fact I had been given what can only be described as a wonky graduated bob resulting in me loosing more than double what I asked her to trim. Royally fucked off now I had no choice but to don my rat-tail extensions in the hope they looked relatively real. Sipping on a Caramel Latte from my beloved Tassimo I went through the days travel plans to get us to the airport, before getting dressed and ready to leave. 

Getting to the airport I thought would not be as faffy as it was, however with a journey time of around three-hours from door to airport check-in I was exhausted already. The slow train was very, very slow and with a connection time of seven-minutes I was anxious to get there in good haste. Sitting in Birmingham International Airport I was excited to be finally a little closer to our holiday away, although regretful slightly that it wasn't somewhere more adventurous on the departure board. 

Several hours and an uneventful flight later we touched down in what appeared to be a very grey and overcast Dublin. My hopes were not high and whilst I knew we were not going to be sweltering in forty-degree heat I so wanted Ireland to be the place where Mr. Warehouse fell in love with it as much as I have in my years of coming here. Whizzing through airport security as usual with only a glance at who we all were, Mr. Warehouse and I headed to the exit only to be told that since the bus had to leave on time we would have to wait for the next one which was only an 'Irish' five-minutes away. I say 'Irish' as Irish people seem to be on a different time-scale, something which I am more than accustomed to. An 'Irish' five minutes is more like twenty, very similar to the commonly used phrases 'I am on my way' and 'I just need to do my make-up'. 

After waiting around for more than twenty 'Irish' minutes, we had arrived at our final destination, our hotel! Discovering our room was 202 in the heady heights of a five-storey Georgian town-house with no lift access Mr. Warehouse reluctantly grabbed the bags and headed for the stairwell. Our room was tiny, smaller than Mr. Warehouse's bedroom at his mothers house back home it was nicely decorated and was situated only a few moments from the hub of Dublin's City centre including shops, restaurants and tourist-y things! Our first evening in the city we had agreed would be a slow one, so we headed to the Tourist Information and paid upfront for a Gravediggers Ghost Bus Tour, which is happening tonight - SO excited! 

For dinner we had settled on a teeny-tiny burger joint called BoBos Burgers! Now everyone knows how much I love a good burger and believe me nothing could top my favourite place for burgers - London's Honest Burger! Last years first holiday to Lyon with Mr. Warehouse nearly toppled it with King Marcel, again feeding us on our first night to the French Foodie City! After reading on-line about how good this place was I knew I would have to try it out, and boy am I glad I did. I cannot recall the burger I had but in it was sweet red-onion chutney, a medium-rare Irish beef burger, yummy cheese, and other gorgeous ingredients! I opted for chips as well although after finishing my burger, I could only stomach a few fries. Feeling bad and after passing more than a handful of homeless people on our travels, I got the restaurant to bag them up ready for someone else's dinner tonight. Only a few metres down the street from the restaurant and outside a posh delicatessen, Mr. Warehouse and I spotted a homeless man who appeared to be asking for food and money. I bent down and explained that we were tourists and that after our meal just now we had not been able to eat all our chips (two buckets worth I might say adding up to over seven-euros). They were still warm and as I handed the grubby man the bag he continued to thank us, explaining that we were angels and that this was his dinner tonight. It was freezing out, not much more than one or two degrees so the fries in all fairness were probably nearly cold but for him we had possibly made his day and that is something money cant buy. 

Saturday we travelled round on the tourist buses all day, attending the site of the Guinness Factory and walked past the Guinness hospital, set up by the Guinness family for the employees of the factory. The top two conditions doctors would see - Alcohol poisoning and sclerosis of the liver?! Enjoying our bus ride we headed back to the hotel to get ready for our all-Irish night out on the tiles in Dublin. The Temple Bar District of Dublin seemed to be the place to be and after heading into several pubs, having one drink at each we found ourselves at the end of the night in the same bar as we started at with the same Irish musicians as before. Drunk as Irish Husbands we headed for home collecting a McDonald's en-route (which tasted incredible I might add as my burger has crispy fried onions in it was amazing, although that might have been the umpteen ciders I had been drinking that evening) before we hailed a man with a bicycle-took-took to take us the ten minutes back to the hotel. 

Waking up yesterday morning, Mr. Warehouse and I felt like the back-end of a Donkey with breath smelling much worse. Happy Valentines Day! Not being able to remember much that wasn't fuzzy or blurred, Dublin had well and truly fucked us in the bum. Hanging, I drank some water and took some paracetamol and got on with it whilst Mr. Warehouse groaned for about twenty minutes and then got over his hangover too. Boarding the bus we headed to Europe's third largest Zoo after London and Paris - Dublin Zoo of course! Walking around we saw babies such as Lion cubs, Elephants and Giraffes as well as their mommies and daddies too. Enjoying every bit of the day we ended it in the gift shop of all places where Mr. Warehouse bought me an adorable cuddly toy Lion - A romantic gesture I have always wanted a lover to buy me from the Zoo, something Mr. Warehouse probably won't know until reading this the sweetheart! 

So my holiday so far has been wonderful and very romantic given it Valentines weekend. Walking around Dublin with my other half is lovely but I am also looking forward to the next part of our trip which commences tomorrow, where Mr. Warehouse and I will head down to Southern Ireland near Kilkenny and visit my Aunt and Uncle and their farmyard animals in the thickness of the Irish countryside. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Never Look Back, It Distracts You From Now!

Hiya!

So last week I spoke of my news that as of the beginning of March 2016, I will be sharing my little abode with my darling Mr. Warehouse and soon after his little doggy will be joining also which in a sense I suppose that makes me an adoptive doggy mom!? Not entirely sure how that works but I am sure we will figure it out. Over the coming weeks I am sure you will be hearing about all the wonderful plans and preparations that need to be made in order to keep the whole process as smooth and as hassle-free as possible, but I wont lie - I am worried. 

In some ways Mr. Warehouse and I are already sharing my ground-floor, town centre flat, just I have only given him a a set of three drawers and allowed him to buy a toothbrush and leave it in the same pot as mine. It is not that I oppose the whole rig-moral of him moving in, if anything I suppose I am glad that we are taking the leap now whilst we have little responsibility other than to our jobs and a ball of golden fluff and fur. I know that he is moving in with me and unlike the last time I allowed myself to live with someone, I know categorically I can afford this flat on my own, yes a stretch, but I can manage. So if for any reason things never worked out between Mr. Warehouse and myself I know that he would just move out and back in with his mom. 

I also need to keep reminding myself, as I did last week that it will not end the same way as it did before. Yes, I loved Mr. Workaholic very, very much, sometimes I wonder if it was too much. We were young, so very young. I didn't know what I was doing let alone him?! We both were not ready to settle down so fast and having a two-bed mid-terraced in suburbia, running a normal office job and harbouring a growing collection of Wedding magazines was not healthy for anyone, especially someone who was barely out of their teens. I thought at at the grand old age of 20 I was ready to settle down, not start a family so to speak but to start building the bricks to the foundations of my future with someone whom I had never loved like this before. 

I suppose this time of year will always throw-up something. The last Valentines Day we shared. That holiday in Cyprus. And the following weeks when the fire that once burned so brightly in both of us slowly burned out. Maybe one day I will have the courage to speak about it without welling up as I am now, stopping every sentence of so as I type to remember the good and the bad times, recalling every last moment in a technicolour of blissful euphoria and agonising heartache. 

But this is a happy post - So onwards and upwards. 

On the run-up to, ideally before Mr. Warehouse and the dog move in, I think I would like to get new bedroom furniture and soft furnishings; However this all costs money and with Dublin just around the corner (This time in a fortnight I will be writing to you from Darling Dublin), and so we are both scrapping and scrimping on every bit of pennies we can find! And so a matching set of bedroom wants and needs include two chest of drawers, wardrobes and bedside tables accompanied with a princess canopy better than the one I presently have and twinkle lights to match will make it the envy of all my friends and followers. Maybe too girlie for Mr. Warehouse's tastes, but the bedroom in my eyes is never meant for looking around at all the pretty things - If you know what I mean!? The lounge and dining room will be more manly than the bedroom as that is where Mr. Warehouse's Xbox Console and sub-woofer-bass speakers will live, all in the hope that I, or should I now say we, will have a couple of good house parties this year. Well, BBQ's at least anyway. Which brings me round then to the garden. I will for summer want to grow some more veggies and herbs as well as maybe tarting it all up a little with some new garden furnishings, table, chairs and heck, even some bunting and LED lights! 

Ahh yes. I can go over board sometimes. T-minus ... five-weeks!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Love is in The Air and It Stinks!

Hello there!

And what a busy week I have been having since the laziness of the past few. So typical boring British I shall begin with the weather however don't be turned off just yet as I am merely stating the fine fact that the past few days have been warmer than average and I am looking out of my window now at work from my new desk as Credit Control Administrator with a smile on my face in the knowledge that summer is only just around the corner. 

So this week in the UK and I am assuming most other places on planet earth it was that god awful day ... Valentine's Day. Now I love 'Love' and in fact I am sure that some of you will know that I am the kind of person that falls very easily and quickly for someone. Not naming names here but there is more Mr. Men here that there is in a children's book store! I enjoy the fact that for at least one day a year everyone should have the ability to either get chocolates, beer, flowers or sex and if your in a relationship then lucky you because you probably are getting all three. Valentine's Day is a wonderful occasion that you can celebrate with your loved one. Unfortunately for me those days were over some weeks ago and so this year I spent my Valentine's with my fellow singleton, Miss Tweedle-Dee and her cat (Although I'm not sure if the cat has a lover? Great now I'm starting to think that the cat gets laid more than I do!) 

Every year this calender event rolls around and every year I feel like carrying around a sick bag just watching other people being in love and in all honesty happy. I hate it. And yet at the same time I want to join in and share in that love although it is frowned upon to just pull up a chair to a couple on a date in a restaurant (Not from experience of course!) It is such a bitter/sweet moment. The fact is that whilst I had purchased slushy and somewhat crude Valentine's card's for Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Tweedle-Dee; I had also purchased, signed, sealed and delivered such a card for a certain someone. I shall not name names but I have been told off by many friends of mine for sending such a thing and to never do it again. Yes, that might not have been the most cleverest of things to do but I thought nothing of it and if I'm honest; hoped it would patch up some holes. 

Friday night after finishing work I headed home and packed a bag for the weekend. Not only was I indulging in a night in with my Miss Tweedle-Dee but I was also meeting with Miss Cupcake who is getting married in several months. Miss Cupcake has asked me to be the photographer for her wedding as mentioned last week and we had finally put aside some time in our busy schedule's to walk around the grounds in which the soon-to-be-weds intend to take their vows. Looking outside however hearing the rain start to drizzle down my quaint windows I felt that this may not be the weather for a half-hour walk to the train station. But I couldn't leave it as knowing England the rain could go on for days. Braving the cold, wet droplets I headed for the station only to get there colder and wetter than when I first started out. I was now frustrated and annoyed and just wanted to be warm and cuddly. And the mood did not improve when I got to the other end. I boarded the wrong bus which stopped half way and chucked me out in the middle of where I grew up (A place I despise with a passion). A typically deprived 'chav'-area and despite living there for the longest period in my life I had not taken on the appearance of a common resident around those parts. A life filled with 'Jeremy Kyle' and the occasional spliff, lounging in bed all day with the only reasons to get up is either going to sign on, feeding one of your nine children (all by different fathers) or maybe a trip to the local shops to steal stuff in your Primark ugg boots and pyjamas, or if your lucky a velour tracksuit! Yes I did not miss my hometown. 

Angrily cursing under my breath I huffed into the freezing air. Aggravated I punched in the numbers of a local cab company I knew of. As it dialled through I thought about how unsatisfying it is to just press a screen when you are mad. Long gone are the days where you could push down so hard of buttons they would catch under the plastic handset or snap shut that person on the other end of the line. In good time (But not good enough given my foul mood) the cab arrived and I was soon en route to Miss Tweedle-Dee's humble abode. As soon as I arrived I hopped straight in the shower, warming my bones that had chilled in the weather. Walking out into the warmness of her home I noticed Miss Tweedle-Dee had brought out her guitar. Feeling more of an improvement now I had arrived at my final destination and knowing the tune she was strumming away to I joined in with the chorus and thus commenced our Valentine's night. The remainder was just as I had hoped for. Girly chit-chat, Youtube videos, takeaway food and a horror film. I think it was one of the best Valentine's Days I have ever had, regardless if Miss Tweedle-Dee pre-booked me over a year in advance. I hope maybe next year I can do the same - With or without a boyfriend!

Who knows what next year may bring. The next twelve-months will be an exciting journey I shall share with you all once more again. The highs, the lows. The Mr.'s and the Miss'. Maybe this time next year I shall with with someone, or maybe just the same old loon still partying as she enters her twenty-fourth year of life! Regardless I know I'll have a whale of a time (maybe because I was called one on a beach sometime! Sad face). This week I have a flat to fix-up, a house-warming to prepare for and a date with someone who shall be named before encountered - Mr. Minigolf!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx