When it snows you either grab a shovel or make snow angels

Heyy,  

The snow began falling on Saturday, however, it was never going to be enough for a full-blown snow day. Settling in for the night and heading to bed it had yet to stop, but the light sprinkle was enough to get excited about. I mean what can I say it has been nearly a year of being in and out of quarantine and lockdowns so this is about as exciting as it gets.

By Sunday morning the flakes were getting bigger and a thin layer was forming on the ground outside. With some tasty chilli cheese bread in I reached for the butter, only to realise it was empty and instead reached for my car keys. Venturing out into the blizzard I was glad to have de-iced the car ready for the Monday morning commute which would, I am sure, be more arduous than normal. On returning the snow was getting heavier and as Mr Warehouse and the pups come out to greet me we chatted with neighbours and did a bit of prep work for the morning to follow. All-day it floated down from the sky as we split our time between playing in the garden with the dogs and snoozing in the warmth of some blankets on the sofa. Even when night fell and Mr Warehouse and I snuggled into bed, we could still see the snow coming down from the dark night as we wondered what the following morrow would bring.

A lot of fucking scraping I can tell you that much. Frozen car doors were the first obstacle. The second of which was a feeble process of sweeping the light dusty snow from the car and scraping the remainder which looked like snow clumps but seemingly had all ganged up to create a massive ice ball which engulfed my car. Twenty-minutes later I was ready to drive to work, if not running late and almost certain I would be told to grab my laptop charger and fuck off home where it was safe. Alas, however, I got into the office in one piece and was told I would be in all week, if it was possible, due to further training - something I lapped up readily.

Something special about snow, especially this time. The fact it brought neighbours together for the first time in months, everyone peaking out the window to watch the next snowman or slip on the ice. Kids screaming down the street announcing a snowball fight as grown adults and kids waged a war on forced isolation. Watching the dogs play in the snow, Frankenstein's first encounter with the white stuff, I recalled a couple of years ago the dreaded  Beast from The East and how we had not really had a snowfall since at least not here in the comfy Home-Counties. Back in 2018, just mere months from mortgages and house deeds, Storm Emma brought the Beast from The East. 

The colder weather coming across from Russia being blown by Siberia and picking up some icy chills on the way the temperatures soon plummeted to rival the sinking of the Titanic and blizzard snow's hampering travel plans as well as all manner of daily activities life for some across the British Isles in March of that year, just weeks before Easter. Rather than getting excited about springtime sunshine, flowers, bunnies and lambs; Storm Emma forced the MET Office to issue a red weather warning foreboding a loss of life should people be caught up in the outside winds of 70mph coupled with the already existing polar vortex from Beast from The East with forecasts for -15C wind chills and snowdrifts nearly as tall as you. Yes you! 

But if that cold snap proved anything, it taught us that things will be brighter once the (snow) storm clears. As reports today through the BBC confirm, it seems the daily death toll is lessening with only 592 being recorded today (Monday 25 January 2021), down seven on last Monday's figure. Yes, I know, just seven, but it is still heading in the right direction - Although that doesn't take into account all the "false data" which means that anyone who has passed away within 28 days of a positive COVID19 test, despite the cause of death, will be recorded as a COVID related death even if it was unrelated.

The downturn in figures for people becoming infected seems to suggest that the virus is n the decline and probably with much thanks from the vaccination programme which so far the latest government figures show that 6.5 million people have now received the first dose, up 2.5-million from last week. My, My they have been busy! Reporting by the BBC confirms Health Secretary Matt Hancock saying almost four in five of the UK's over 80s have now had the vaccine, with nearly 500,000 people having had a second dose of the wonder-drug. It is said that the government needs to give about 380,000 vaccine doses a day if it is to reach the 15 million most vulnerable people by the middle of February and with the current seven-day average is almost 360,000, I am sure the end is in sight soon.

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

Think Positive & Positive Will Come

Heyy,  

The sparkle of positivity about 2021 that was first ignited last week is still burning bright and getting hotter and hotter as the days and weeks progress. just hope Boris doesn't have a bucket of water for my fireworks waiting for me around the corner. I have now settled in quite nicely in my new job and know a bit more but all is going well and whilst it is strange not having the normal introductions and training I seem to be doing well.

Whilst I said last week that since the country has been plunged into an official 3rd Lockdown it makes for difficult work trying to see the positivity in things, especially all things weddings and celebratory.

As reported today through the BBC, only 599 deaths were recorded today (and I say only but obviously we know that even one death is too many). But is this the beginning of the end? The downturn in figures for people becoming infected seem to suggest so and with fewer people becoming infected, the less likely people are to be hospitalised and die from the disease which has wreaked havoc on our lives for nearly a year! This is equally positive when you hear scaremongering stories in the press and media about this "new variant" of the virus thought to be much more easily transmissible than other strains, although not believed to be more deadly - Something I already have, controversially, voiced my concerns and thoughts on.

Despite my confidence, I am a realist - Prime Minister Boris Johnson has warned on several occasions that easing of restrictions on daily life, mask-wearing and social distancing is all heavily reliant on the vaccine rollout being a success as well as there being no further concerning variants of the virus. Another article from BBC asks about whether a vaccine, regardless of its roll out allow us to return to normal as we knew it before? I myself as I am sure many of you are desperately hoping that the coronavirus vaccines will transport us back to our pre-Covid lives.

Whilst it is amazing we have several brilliant vaccines already approved for market, not to mention the many more that will be coming through in the coming months I am sure, but it could take months or possibly years to vaccinate enough of the global population to make the whole interconnected world safe and reach a point where we can all return to fully normal. Prof David Salisbury, a former director of immunisation at the UK Department of Health says that in his humble opinion "suggestions that vaccines will be able to take us back to where we were pre-Covid by Easter have given people an unrealistic expectation's", and such an outcome, in the absence of the interruption of transmission, is "unlikely".

But I am valiantly subscribing to the sunnier broadcasts and whereas the days where Number 10 press conferences were a monotonous deluge of horrendous figures and numbers I have now begun to tune into the hope and positivity from them, even if I have the fortune of driving home from the office during their broadcast, therefore, missing out on all the standard doom and gloom. Thankfully Mr Warehouse is always on hand to update me on my arrival home.

In the news article from the BBC, the latest government figures show that four-million people have now received the first dose, and just over 450,000 people have had a second. It is said that following the vulnerable and OAP's having their jabs, the NHS and partners will move onto the next category including the over-50's in their sights as well as the aforementioned groups not picked up first time around. With Health Secretary Matt Hancock says the government is aiming to offer all UK adults a vaccine by September I am more than hopeful that we will get married this year - I just hope we don't need to postpone it to Autumn?!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou x

If you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain

Hello All,  

A fortnight into the new year and I am starting to see just a sparkle of positivity about 2021. After practically crying through the fireworks on New Year's Eve (albeit 2019's - See last weeks blog post) I have finally finished wallowing in self-pity and I am starting to see what I can do with all the wonderful time I have now free on my hands. Alas as much as I wish it were true Couch To 5K is not on that list. It may be a new year and a new job but I am far from a new me - I am still the same old same old you have all grown to love, I hope.

The new job is going well and whilst it is strange not having the normal introductions around the office, desperately trying to remember everyone's name without offensive adjectives in front. There is no banter around the coffee machine or getting to know colleagues. I will be honest though as the tin of Quality Street the size of my car that is being passed around is soon becoming a 3pm habit.

That being said, COVID hasn't helped the job transfusion and since the country has been plunged into an official Lockdown (lost count at which fucking number we are on now - 4 I think?!) it makes for difficult work trying to learn a new job. According to that Jock-Strap of a Health Secretary, Matt Hancock the UK is at the "worst point" of the pandemic.

As reported through the BBC, Number 10 press conferences have now just become a monotonous deluge of horrendous figures and numbers about how many have got the COVID-19 Coronavirus and how many so far have died from it, a figure now close to 85,000 Brit's. The begging and pleading for people to abide by the rules, washing hands, wearing face masks and keeping space I am afraid has come too little too late and should have been heavily enforced with the like of Dominic Cummings as his flouting of said rules has only made the rest of us think what is the point.

So far 2.3 million people in the UK have had a first Covid vaccine shot with many of them already completing their course of the two shots, giving them full immunity. But with millions still yet to vaccinate, the delivery plan is expected to take until spring to give the first dose to all 32 million people in the UK's priority groups, including the over-55's and those who are clinically vulnerable. The BBC continues to report that, on a positive note, a good percentage of those at higher risk of an ITU bed (the over-70s, older care home residents and staff, frontline healthcare workers to name a few) will have had their first jab in the arm by mid-February meaning they are 70% immune from the deadly virus. 

Now don't get me wrong - I ain't stupid. The Governments earlier published plans to immunise more of the nation by Easter seems ambitious, to say the least, however, I am hoping that after all the cockup's and conundrums last year, Boris Johnson can finally rally round his posh-twat friends and get things sorted. Someone once said - Once you replace negative thoughts with positive ones, you’ll start having positive results, let's just hope it isn't positive for COVID - But with a third American vaccine now approved and on backorder into the UK, I am feeling more optimistic than I have been in the last few weeks about the upcoming year and all it has to bring with it - Weddings and parties included! 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

More Sleepless Nights

Evening,  

Going into the new year I was less than positive about 2021. Sat there on New Year's eve, probably for the first time in my adult life, tucked up in bed and watching the fireworks, albeit last years London skyline performance.

So the story goes (yes I know going off on a sideline but trust me this is both worth it just for the laugh and also to confirm that I am still as ditsy as when I first started this blog nearly a decade ago), numb-nuts here figured that since it was quarter to midnight she would watch a couple of nail art compilations and then she would just type into Youtube and find a live stream of the celebrations in the capital. Sure great idea. Only the video I chose to watch was very worrying with people crowding the banks of the River Thames and marshalls and police doing nothing to disperse the gatherings and seemingly enjoying the dancing and celebrating too. Swaths of people lined the streets and amidst my dismay, for lack of social distancing, I felt lucky to have tuned in with just ten-seconds to go. Beckoning our little pup to my chest I sat up in bed as Mr Warehouse slept soundly next to me. The skies suddenly lit up outside in the street with colourful fireworks and loud pops and bangs. Blue laser's flashed through the dark night as I stood at the window, pup in arms watching and telling him to "shh" at every sound. He seemed fascinated. Mr Warehouse on the other hand was unimpressed with being awoken in such an unsavoury manner.

Feeling successfully fulfilled I switched over to some videos about horror stories or Amazon finds before settling down and falling asleep. Waking in the morning I informed my fiance of the farce that was the fireworks in London I had witnessed the night before, and, watching it again on demand this time for his benefit I soon realised that this was not the same thing I had watched last night. Even then I did not notice the error of my ways and instead thought I had watched something maybe from Channel 4 or another live stream randomly on the internet. It was not until I noted looking through my Youtube history showing Mr Warehouse what I had seen that I realised, stupidly that I had been watching the fireworks and celebrations from New Year's Eve - 2019. Apparently, 2020 wasn't that bad and my sub-conscience would like to relive it again, please.

I must admit I felt silly and low and behold it has not improved much in the four-days since then as just hot off the press, Boris Johnson has called a press conference this evening confirming that despite Christmas being cancelled, despite most of the UK going into the most severe of tiers (Tier 4) and despite a vaccine being rolled out with mass inoculating taking place (apparently) we are going into yet another nationwide Lockdown. And there was me complaining several weeks ago that many areas including London, Bedfordshire, Hertfordshire and Buckinghamshire amongst other in the South East in basically fucking lockdown number 3 and how it was going to be the first time in my entire life that I would not be spending Christmas with my family. If only I knew then what I do now - Although to be fair another Lockdown was absolutely on the cards and almost inevitable and unavoidable as case numbers and deaths have sored over the festive period because people can't fucking keep it together. 

But the frustrating thing is that I get it. As I mentioned last week, with everything that has happened in the last twelve months 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 still and almost even more-so now don't feel totally optimistic about going ahead at the moment) would anyone blame anyone else for wanting to act out?

After starting my new job today and soaking up as much as my little brain (and I emphasize little referring you to the earlier mishap with said NYE celebrations) could take, I am extremely on edge now about everything. The rug has well and truly been ripped out from beneath my feet and I am now second-guessing every move I have made. Was this the right decision to move jobs? Was now a great time to start somewhere new? Can I do this? Am I able to learn a job fully remotely and continue working from home for what could potentially be the next quarter? Will I be furloughed? Will I be laid off? And that is what is spinning round in my head right now and that's without the constant grinding thoughts about the wedding or starting a family or just organising the spare room. No wonder I can't sleep at night. I just don't know how much more of this I can take.

* Breathes *

Despite all my hopes and the need to keep at the forefront of my mind that things will get better; That this for it is only a temporary measure, a small blip on what will hopefully be an extensive lifetime of amazing things - I just hope that this is all worth the wait, worth the purging for and worth the sacrifices we have all had to make so that we can all get back to a bit more normality.

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Shattering the glass ceiling

Hello All, 

And so the moment has finally come. No not the lockdown ending (although I won't lie, that is certainly peaking my mood), no not the fact I am less than a day from my pork scratching advent calendar and no not the fact that I am less than a few days away from seeing my nail lady for my Christmas inspired tallons. No. Now is the moment we discuss moving on ... 

Arriving at work, it suddenly hit me that this was it. There were no second chances and that once it was done there was no turning back. Up until getting out of my car that crisp Tuesday morning last week it hadn't even really seemed real. But now it was very real. The next time I stepped into my car the dynamics would have shifted and all would have been laid bare. I was nervous. Trying to think of the perfect moment was awful. I mean I had some time to think since it had nearly been a fortnight. Nevertheless, I thought I would let management grab a coffee and settle into emails before telling them my news. 

But then started the normal morning rush and before I knew it lunchtime was upon us. After telling a few close colleagues I knew I had to seize the moment and if not now then when. And so, alone in a quiet meeting room I slid the white envelope across the desks (you know COVID-safe and all). Smiling, my manager asked what it was. I explained as best I could without taking up any more of his valuable time although I felt as though I was rambling and not really making much sense. I blathered on about this and that but when it really came down to it, what was there in his hands was quite simply the final nail in the coffin. My resignation. 

I joined the company over four years ago and in that time life had changed immeasurably. I had got Clifford, my big red car after my beloved Vivienne was written off. I have gotten engaged and planned a wedding. I got my best ever freebie, my little pup Frankenstein. I even managed to get myself on the property ladder after years of wondering and dreaming about if it will ever happen. Yes, there had been many a happy time shared amongst my office space and colleagues. However, in recent months and even going back as far as last year, I have not been happy. 

Standing there in a silent meeting room with my manager I explained that it was a decision I had made not lightly, given the situation the team would be left in and considering the pandemic. But I knew in my heart of hearts that now the wheels were in motion I couldn't turn back now. Who knew that walking through those doors all those many moons ago that I would not only acquire the skills for dealing with difficult customers and colleagues but also that I would learn things about myself, my values and my value to others. 

I never expected that I would get a taste for anything more than just a job to pass time and fill up the years before I settled down to have children. I know now that I want more than that for myself and my future. I want to have a job my children can be proud of, doing something that I am good at with people whom I enjoy being around. But there is more to life and I needed to spread my wings and fly off for a new adventure. 

So where am I going and what is next?! Well, following a successful interview I had a phone call one Friday morning before I started work. Switching on the grinding coffee machine in the office kitchen I listened to the voice at the end of the phone tell me the news I had been hoping for. I had bagged the job. But which one? I remembered interviewing for the job, but couldn't find anything on my emails as I desperately scanned through. The lady explained she would send everything over and looked forward to working with me soon. 

The following week I finally received all the finalised paperwork, information and new starter forms. Working normal office hours I will instead be heading in the opposite direction to the other half in the mornings come the new year and into the hustle and bustle of Milton Keynes. Along with the normal benefits package the offices are super easy to get to and is right by the lake, so the "healthy-me" is thinking it would be a great idea to invest in a bike or for a walk or maybe even a run (haha) around the lake maybe two or three times a week. The "fat-me" thinks about all the amazing places I can order food from in the city and how it will be delivered to me by a man on a bike or even better - A robo-delivery-box-a-mijig! 

To say I am excited is putting it softly, but despite my enthusiasm, my heart still aches for my situation and the reasons which have lead me to where I am now. I hope that one day I can talk openly about them, however as most of you know who have been reading along for a while now (can you believe it has been nearly TEN YEARS!) I don't talk about work or employment and keep them and blog very distance. 

And so I suppose this is probably the most honest or open I have ever been about my work-life, but with the next few weeks until Christmas laying ahead of me, things are changing all the time and who knows what curveball or spanner will be thrown into the cogs of my life next ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

A Good Way To Waste Time

Afternoon All, 

I know a day early but the Arsenal game is on and better to do it now than try to find good WiFi tomorrow. 

Boarding the plane on a grey and drizzly Wednesday afternoon I was excited to be soon at our 4-star adults-only spa hotel, the most stars I think I have ever stayed in, considering normal holidays are a little more conservative and less flamboyant. Less than ninety-minutes into take-off there was trouble afoot as a girl in her early twenties (the kind that at school would bully you and make you cry for the way your face looked, only to message you a few years later after seeing you grow into an acclaimed MUA and asked for a freebie because "we were friends at school") refused to wear a face covering and started spouting off to customers. Then a Stormzy-esk Black man, built like a brick shit house stood up and proclaimed something I wish I had heard if it wasn't for my ears not popping. Things seemed to quieten down, but not for long as there was another flare-up, again between Regina George and another flyer, an older woman who seemed to disagree with Regina about the fact that her sleeping eye mask was hardly a good face covering. In her defence, however, I must admit that the thick fluff and layers of material would in actual fact be probably a darn sight better than those some others were wearing on board. 

Nevertheless, agreeing to disagree on the scientific evidence behind facemasks and the prevention of spreading Coronavirus was not on Regina's radar and instead, she proceeded to launch herself over the back of her seat and touch the disagreeing women. This was all too much for everyone and instantly there were lots of people who had needed to "use the bathroom" in order to get a better view or had put down their books or paused the movie in order to tune into what was evidently a much better episode of drama than anything by Jilly Cooper. Airhostess' calming things down it put a patch over the gaping wound until another passenger made a complaint about another for not wearing her face covering whilst drinking. This, in turn, turned into a heated debate with the airline staff about what is an acceptable amount of time to not wear a face mask if you are sipping a gin and tonic. The airline did all they can but soon the slanging match started and I really thought that at this rate the plane will be diverted and I will be called tomorrow by The Sun to see if I have any video evidence of "Karens" in action. 

On landing, it didn't get much better as waiting for mine and Mr Warehouse's luggage a fight broke out between brick-shit-house-Stormzy, someone impersonating Post Malone and another would-be rapper and a white portly gentleman resembling something from the Human-Centipede-2. And all because someone pushed in front of someone else to collect their bags. A few words were said (I think one of them had called him a paedo) and before I knew it brick-shit-house-Stormzy had Human-Centipede-2 almost flat out on the floor. I expected something racist to come out, however, Mr Warehouse, who was in the thick of it on the front line assures me nothing of the kind was uttered. Threats to "meet me outside and we will see" were shot, however, Mr Warehouse were tired and despite the extended episode of Easyjet-Oaks, we had a transfer to get to, all in the hope that neither of that episodes characters would be present on our bus. 

Arriving at our hotel it was late, past midnight and we were shattered from the nigh-on four-hour flight, Airport dramas and two-hour transfer. Our hotel was everything we expected and more. The Poseidon Hotel had even switched out our rooms for an upgraded front aspect room with a view of the sea and a balcony to enjoy the view on, albeit when it wasn't pitch black. The air conditioning was much appreciated and the complimentary fruit bowl and bottle of red wine was a sweet touch, even though we were a little confused at first if it was a gimmick in order to get us to spend more money and charge us. 

Waking in the morning, sunlight streaming in through the window I rose and looked out at probably one of the most incredible views I have had from any hotel window since Vegas back in 2015. It was just beautiful with the pointed mountains surrounding the Mediterranean resort town of Marmaris. I could certainly understand why this was labelled as the Turkish Riviera, squinting as the Turquoise Coastline glittered in the morning sunshine. Looking down from our third floor I could see the palm tree-lined sea promenade and pebbly sand beach, perfect for just getting away from it all. Heading out after breakfast Mr Warehouse went to explore, although not before the hotel had a chance to have a "meeting" with us. Basically, it was a tour operator who obviously got some sort of commission from upselling over-priced excursions and day trips to holiday-makers who are still weary from their travels and have not had a chance to explore the local area for other prices yet, ultimately taking advantage and exploiting the unaware traveller(s). 

We booked some excursions and haggled down the price, scouted out the shops and dabbled in the bargains to be had and how much you could haggle a man down by for a pair of sunglasses. Mr Warehouse had made me so proud. After all the years of knowing him and his constant shame in me asking for a discount or using money off codes and vouchers, the many Youtube videos of Asian fake markets and vlog-hagglers had paid off. Walking into the shop and watching from afar it was clear to see he was a man about to do business on his terms. Selecting a pair of sunglasses and eyeing up (pun intended) a second pair the shop keeper unveiled the price; four-hundred Turkish Lira, roughly equivalent to £40.00. Fake Oakley red and black wrap-around sunglasses and some classic RayBan wayfarers. Not worth it. 

Mr Warehouse laughed nervously as he said it was too much and offered half. A bold move I thought to go in at half the cost. The shop keeper seemed to think so and offered a slightly lesser amount, hoping my fiance would crumble. Nope. Sticking to his guns Mr Warehouse proceeded to tell the man what he wanted to pay and not a penny more. Walking out proved a successful ploy as immediately, almost too easy the shop keeper folded and accepted the half-price offer of two-hundred Turkish Lira, roughly equivalent to £20.00. I was like a mum on school photo day, so proud and urging him to do more so I can see the pro at work. 

That afternoon we went back to the hotel and after awaking from our afternoon nap Mr Warehouse had some bad news. The UK government had listed Turkey as a no-go-zone and from Saturday morning at 4am would impose a fourteen-day quarantine rule on anyone returning from the country. Annoyed and frustrated, we had a couple of options, either pack up where we were right now and try to phone the airline and travel company in order to see if we can get an alternative flight back before the cut-off time, or stick it out and suffer the cost implications. We chose the latter, although when faced with flights of £900+ each for a rescheduled flight home less than 24-hours after arriving, there wasn't much of an option. We knew that this may have been a risk when departing however with my work being possible to do from home, it wouldn't be a huge dip in income, and we could always make ends meet with savings if we really needed to. 

And so we stayed. The last few days have been wonderful; A traditional Turkish bath is otherwise known as a Hammam (although anyone who follows me on social media will know the hilarity of the tale behind this experience as we were ambushed by the spa photographer as if that is even a thing for an impromptu photoshoot; noting in the photos posted the absolute terror in my eyes as he poked his head around the corner just as mere bubbles hide our modesty). Yesterday on our would-be wedding day (the whole reason we took this damned holiday) we also sampled some of the best Turkey has to offer with an excursion we just couldn't miss out on all aboard a boat. 

I awoke that morning and for a short while forgot what the date was and what the day should have meant. I should have been donning a white dress and marrying the man of my life but instead it was going to be very different for all sorts of reasons, but now the date had arrived there was a mixture of emotions bubbling away. I was sad for our day not being when it was meant to and upset I did not wake up with my girls and get ready together, friends and family dropping by to wish me well and tell me to "hurry the fuck up". I was disappointed I couldn't have danced the night away with loved ones and frustrated I still have yet to start the rest of my life as Mrs Barlow. But the day was not all lost as we boarded our vessel for a beautiful island tour boat trip. 

Setting sail from Marmaris harbour, we stopped for a swim break off the coast of the rocky mountain islands Mr Warehouse and I had seen from our hotel balcony. I was brave enough to take a dip, but not as brave as some people, diving in from the side of our ship. A while later we arrived just off Dalyan where lunch was served as a fish or chicken dinner and once finished we were transferred to small wooden boats to cruise on the seas surrounding the infamous Turtle Beach where three different types of turtle come to lay their eggs and where the salty seas meet the fresh waters of the African Queen, a reed-filled riverbank giving the feels of Floridian swaps and marshlands similar to that of the Everglades, I imagine. 

Continuing our journey we sailed past the Temple Tombs carved into the mountainside and said to house the dead of rich and famous of centuries gone by and their Egyptian slaves and into Dalyan, a town on the Dalyan River, just inland from Turkey's southwest coast. Sailing further on to the northwest on the Dalyan shore of Lake Köyceğiz is the village of Sultaniye, known for its thermal mud baths. There Mr Warehouse threw caution (and some mud) into the wind and immersed ourselves in the therapeutic natural clay masks and thermal springs before heading back to the ship for home and a night out on the tiles. 

So far our holiday has been everything we wanted and more. Granted I will need to work from home once back and I might regret coming in a few months time if bills are tight because of our frivolous trip but sitting here having my fourth Orgasm (not actual, obviously I'm in public) in a row doesn't feel like a bad way to spend some time with my future husband. Now where's that cocktail menu again ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Hand(luggage), Face(mask), Space(-d out sun loungers)

Heyy Heyy, 

Following on from last weeks McDonalds brekkies, Bottomless brunches and heavenly crepes, I have not exactly been going in the right direction when it comes to my newly started Slimming World Journey. I get that everyone has put on a pound (or twelve) during the whole Lockdown thing, however I think if anything, and maybe it is the age thing talking now - I just dont give a fuck. I enjoyed last weekend so much so I think I have realised that yes, whilst I, like most people, need to eat more fruit and veggies and maybe move a bit more, I enjoy food and I dont want to be sat in a room of people every Tuesday evening clapping for Brenda or someone else who lost half a pound. I wanna be boosting Brenda up and telling her I fricken love those sweatpants she is rocking or how she has her hair today. I want to be around empowering women and not making them feel bad that they fell off the wagon a few days in a week and had a damned KitKat. And so I think when I return from my holiday (less than 48-hours to go and counting) I will rennounce all Slimming World visits only goign in for the bare minimum whilst I see out my remaining week's I have pre-paid for, checking in on my ever fluctuating weightloss. 

And sowith less than eight hours of work to go, the countdown is well and truely on. As I had explained last week, my finaly year of my twenties I want to do stuff, see stuff, visit places and just tell Corona to do one. COVID-19 really has fucked everything - Weddings, Work/Life balance, Halloween, Career, Parties and social activities, even holidays - Or so I thought before I got the most incredble present I think anyone could get on their birthday - A FUCKING HOLIDAY! This time next week ladies and gentlemen get ready to be green with envy as I will be 2,393 miles away from here in Marmaris, Turkey. 

Flying out Wednesday, Mr Warehouse and I will be leaving our pups behind to play with their sister (Frankenstien's Pup-Sister) and Momma Warehouse AKA 'Grandma' for a whole week with friends and family dropping by throughout the time I am sure. Jetting off to the Mediterranean resort town along the Turkish Riviera, also known as the Turquoise Coast, Marmaris is a dreamy location with pebbly beaches and long seafront promenades, perfect for just getting away from it all. The seaside, tourist hotspot is known for its lively nightlife on Bar Street which is home to open-air clubs and music venues, however from some of the YouTube videos and vlogs we have watched over the last fortnight or so, most of them seem closed. Marmaris sits in a valley between pine-forested mountains and clear waters, which are popular sailing and diving destinations, something Mr Warehouse and I are hopihn we might be able to find an excursion or two.

Our hotel is to die for as well. Situated right on the beachfront sea lapping up against your toes, The Poseidon Hotel offers a private beach area with a jetty and free sun loungers, parasols and cabanas beds. The hotel has both an indoor and outdoor pool as well as a Turkish bath, sauna and a fitness centre. All room are beautifully carpeted throughout and what looks like marbled stone private bathrooms with a hairdryers, free toiletries and everything else you could possibly need for your stay. Air conditioning as an absoloute must for Mr Warehouse after several dodgey budget hotels with little or none and I am sure that the TV and minibar will be put to good use also. 

With the All Inclusive menu there will be plenty to pick from I am sure, or maybe something à la carte where Mr Warehouse and I can enjoy selected dishes from Turkish and international cuisines. If we fancy it Marmaris city centre is less than a two-mile walk from the hotel with plenty more options for food and nightlife. According to Booking.com, "according to independent reviews, this is guests' favourite part of Marmaris and Couples particularly like the location rating it 8.9 for a two-person trip." so I am positive we will have a good time and with Free WiFi available throughout the hotel I am sure you will all be getting sick and tired of my constant 'Gramming by Thursday Morning. 

Oh and did I mention - Its adults only! No screaming Wayne's around poolside wanting their fifth ice-cream in a row. No crying Abigail because she cant use the Hammam mud chambers. No silly slides or water fountains (although not going to lie, probs gonna miss that myself). So grab your overpried straw sun hat from Accessorize and the Haviana's you bagged from your bestie when she was having a clear out and let get our holiday on!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Last Year of my Twenties ...

Evening, 

Strolling into the office, I was feeling excited I had less than a few hours left before a weekend of fun and birthtday activities. Friday was my 29th year on the planet, gracing you all with my precence (haha) and I was certain to make the damned most of it, COVID or not! And so after a dental appointment Thursday afternoon I poured myself a nice big glass ofof the good stuff and enjoyed a night of telly, all in the knowledge I would be jam-packed with people to see and places to go come tomorrow. 

Friday morning came soon enough though and just like the good old days I dropped Mr Warehouse to work, but not before a cheeky McDonald's Breakfast. The start to the day of kings, or at least this one. Double sausage and egg McMuffin meal with a large toffee-nut latte and side of hash brown. Winning! Once back at home I settled in for the morning as the sun continued to rise, watching crappy daytime TV and snoozing with the pups, all before heading out for a spot of what I hoped would be lucrative Halloween shopping however proved fruitless. But the best was yet to come as arriving back home I had a treat in store, well for my oven at least. 

Ever since moving in (nearly two-years ago now) Mr Warehouse and I have been meaning to clean the oven. I know, I know. It is a horrible dirty little secret but telling you all I am sure I am not the only one who has had every intention of sitting there on the kitchen floor of a weekend afternoon, desperatly trying to work out how the oven door comes off whilst the wire racks and trays sit on the counter-top fizzing in bicarb and vinegar. Alas, my future husband and I had all the best ideas when purchasing Oven Pride over 18-months-ago, but there is always something (anything) better to do of a weekend than spent scrubbing on all fours trying not to get bummed into the cooker Hansel and Gretel style by lover boy over there. And so I bought a service so that they would come along, clean and srub all my dirtiness away and leave it gleaming so I can (now) stay n top of it so I dont have the embarressment of calling someone out again and having to lie (unconvincingly) through my teeth that it was only cleaned six-months ago. 

Following the collection of Mr Warehouse we headed home for a bit until it was time to leave for some QT with Miss Tweedle-Dee. Although on arrival her new gaff was packed with her Mom, Dad and not-so-little brother as well as Miss JoHo (now not a Jehovahs Witness). Lots of alcohol followed with some good laughs and giggles. But turning 29, the last few days on the run-up had been reflective. This will be the first year without my Scottish Grandmother and her force of nature was certainly missing from my life, something I have been feeling more now that I ever did before. I dont know, maybe it is the fact that unlike when my Granddad passed away, I still continue to get birthday and Christmas cards from my Nanny Pumpkin, they just dont have the inclusion of "and Granddad" at the end. But this year, it will just be nothing. No "lots of love and hugs and god bless". No funny tongue in cheek card. No money wrapped up carefully in tinfoil. Nothing. And since Scottish Granda' passed long before I knew of grandparents and the impact they have on a growing human, this is the end of an era. 

Saturday my head was fuzzy to say the least, but continuing with the fun (and after doing menial tasks like lumping our old triple wardrobe about the place for someone who came to buy it) Mr Warehouse and I headed off to Bedford Town Centre for something I had wanted to do for ages ... Bottomless Brunch. As the Slug and Lettuce website confirms, "brunch is one of the most important meals of the day" and paired with bottomless bubbles the experience all the more better. Lasting two hours, on arrival Mr Warehouse and I joined our old work colleagues Miss Hackney & Miss Sugarcoat dined from a simple brunch menu choosing Eggs Benedict of course, however the less than attentive team were slow and it wasn't lng before we were ordering two-at-a-time-mimosa's. 

But I couldnt get so shit-faced, I had to go dinner with my Dad and his wife, now of over a year would you believe it? A family run countryside English Inn, The Carrington Arms is situated in the picturesque village of Moulsoe, about a ten-minute journey by car from our home in Cranfield. I had been itching to visit the award winning restaurant for a while now but it was always fully booked during the whole "Eat Out to Help Out" thing in August and after mentioning it in passing my Dad had said he would book a table for my birthday. 

Ariving early I made Mr Warehouse take some pictures of me in my denim jumpsuit finery amoungst the Insta-worthy grounds, all before meeting our dinner guests and walking through into the bar, adorned with a huge selection of gin bottles, towering up the walls as well as draught beers, lagers, real ales and an extensive, handpicked wine list. Sitting down we chatted about my Dad and wife's recent holiday to Northern England including Durham and York, somewhere me and Mr Warehouse would love to travel to again. 

Starting with a Mango and Passionfruit gin I followed it with my favorite starter - Deli Carpaccio of Seared Bedfordshire Beef Fillet, Charred Cucumber, Filo Brick Pastry, Smoked Mustard Mayonnaise, Dill, Pink Pepper & Shaved Pecorino. Following that, my main had to continue the same caliber and since the restaraunt served locally raised Bedfordshire Beef (sold by the gram I might add) I just had to try some, although I was disappointed to discover that in "normal times" pre-Corona you could ahve gone and selected your own steak and watched it being cut and cooked on our charcoal grill. Washed down with plenty of good wine I was far too full from brunch and bubbles plus dinner to even entertain a dessert and so I have just booked to return soon and certainly so for our traditional Christmas eve meal out. 

A few drinks with some of Mr Warehouse's family to see one of the younger ones off to Uni in Liverpool ensued followed by our heads hitting the pillows and falling fast asleep. Most Sunday's are now spent lazing in bed watching Youtube before Mr Warehouse heads out to watch his (or really should be our) Nephew play football and this weekend was no different, I found myself chilling around the house and watching yet more documentaries on Dennis Neilson (self-consuming myself since the incredibly spooky and true-to-likeness docuseries on ITV called "Des" played by David Tennant - Uhh just fascinating you must watch it if you havent already), before heading over to see Brother and Sister-in-law, kids and the most adorable little puppy called Lola ever! 

Wrapping up the weekend in style, Mr Warehouse and I headed to French Affaire, a French inspired restaurant buried in the heart of quaint Stony Stratford near Milton Keynes. Meeting my Scottish side of the family it was nice to finally come full-circle and feel a little better about having my first birthday without my Scotch Nanna. Stepping into the beautiful restaurant I was swept away by the exquisite and elegant interior, including sparkling chandelier, living moss wall and plush furnishings, not to mention a sunny terrace area complete with flowers in full bloom. And unlike The Blossom Room in Milton Keynes Miss Tweedle-Dee and I tried during August's "Eat Out to Help Out" thing, French Affaire's clean & simple cooking was full of flavour and you could tell that many of the ingredients were from local suppliers. Opting for something healthy (probably the first drink I had since Thursday that wasn't alcoholic) I chose a smoothie of blended carrot, goji berries, banana, mango and some other shit to add up to my five-a-day. Our late lunch was compromised of smashed avacado on Sourdough toast with poached eggs and chilli followed by the best Crepe I think I have had outside of France itself - Baileys, Oreo crumbles and White Chocolate sauce. Uh heavenly!

And so the rollercoaster continues into my finaly year of my twenties as some weeks I am good and others, like last week, I just want to tell Corona to do one. COVID-19 really has fucked everything, however unlike last week where I thought I had to kiss goodbye to dreamy Greek islands or lush Italian breaks; This week I am looking forward to the most incredble present I think anyone could get on their birthday - A FUCKING HOLIDAY!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Fear is interest paid on a debt you might not owe

 Evening All, 

And so it has happened. I mean it is not like I knew it wouldn't, it is written into my contract. It is pretty unlikely that things would not have gone back to more of a normality, or whatever this new bullshit is now especially since shops are now open not to mention the restaraunts and pubs as mentioned last week. But as I sat in the hairdressers today on my day off, scrolling through my social media pages, flooded with back to school pictures, the anxiety I felt peaked. Why? Because tomorrow is my first day back in the office.

Week number seventeen and whilst the virus has no end in sight yet, we are being told from media outlets and Government alike to 'Get back to work'. On 17 July, Boris Johnson announced that from 1 August the Government’s advice for England on going to work would be changing and instead of telling people to work from home where possible and if they can to contain and cntrol the virus, employers were given more discretion and in turn asked the country to return to work safely. Workplaces up and down the country started to make decisions about how staff can work in a clean and COVID-secure enviroment. 

"Whatever employers decide, they should consult closely with their employees, and only ask people to return to their place of work if it is safe" said the Prime Minister. However, on 31 July following some local outbreak of the Coronavirus in the Midlands and North West, the postponement of some planned lockdown easing in England had to be halted and ergo the 'Back to work' chants. Since then the Government have updated the 'Working safely during coronavirus' guidance, but with the changes to the relaxation of restrictions and the potential for regional restrictions to be put in place should a spike appear continuing, is it sensible for businesses to consider beinging staff back, even on a part time basis? Everyone will need to have the capability to move quickly from one scenario to another as local lockdowns and quarratining from foreign countries changes by a daily, sometimes hourly even basis. 

This virus is still out there and figures from the BBC released today (Monday 07 September 2020) confirm that whilst the number of new cases of coronavirus is continuing to rise, the death rate is just 3 in the last 24-hour period; A stark cry from the blog post I wrote my first few weeks working from home in late March when the figure was already at over 1,400 which has already been dwarfed by the 41,500 deaths the nation has seen and it is still being added to. Prime Minister Boris Johnson had yet to update us since the 23rd of March with the rolling news and science or the growing number of deaths or what it would mean for Mr.  Warehouse and I as a family and all of the summer fun and activities and parties we would miss out on not only then but looking forward to the rest of the year also; Halloween, my birthday, Christmas, Christmas parties, New Years Eve and not to mention the effing wedding. This being said, however, his strict curb on life in the UK to tackle the spread of COVID-19 Coronavirus has certainly shaken things up 

I spoke right at the beginning of all of this madness stating that whilst the last few weeks in the run-up to the UK's lockdown had been strange, the whole working from home situation had started off feeling odd. Slowly getting better as the days turned to weeks and weeks turned into months I became more and more settled. I had my own little morning routine and even during my lunch half-hour and breaks I would occupy myself with putting the washing on, cleaning or sticking the dishwasher on. I have enjoyed my time working at home all in the knowledge that I could organise a oven clean or some workmen to come round and I would be in. I could order something and know I could open the door to receieve it myself. I could look after the dogs and have cuddles whenever I wanted. It was bliss. 

I, like many workers will be concerned and anxious about even the prospect of being in the workplace. Thankfully I dont have to worry too much about travelling there and back as I don't have to use public transport. But alas it had to come to an end at some point I suppose. Now some of you may already be feeling this way and will want to know that your company or  organisation is retaining the support for physical and mental health as well as its current thinking about flexible and remote working both for now and for the future. Now whilst I accept that we all need to start getting back to our (post-apocolyptic it seems sometimes) new normal, discussions about returning to the workplace, be it a shop, bar or office should be at the heart of any decisions and plans that business makes and every effort should be made to make sure people feel safe and secure in an enviroment they spend more time at than at home, at least pre-COVID. However this is something I feel people aren't talking about not nearly enough. 

The last time I stepped into that office was back in May 2020, before summer, before heatwaves and before any thoughts about postponing the wedding. Even then I only went in to collect a few things from my desk to make it easier to work from home, or WFH as some people are now referring to it. And even before that optional visit it was back in March before lockdown when we were all back, crowding round the doughnuts someone had brought in or queuing for the coffee machine. But I have been assured it is safe with weird heat detection systems, air-cirulation units and socially distanced desks, I am sure it will be, but the communication out is a little sparse for my likling and I cannot, at the moment at least, hold my hand on my heart and say I feel confident and safe returning to work just yet. 

Despite all of this and how tiresome I and many others are finding this lockdown crap, regardless of its "easing", I am glad to just be getting some sort of news and clarity on what the future may look like, even if it is just up until the end of the year. But things are not over and to say that I am scared, anxious, worried, daunted and generally overwhelmed by the whole experiance now as I write to you all less than twelve-hours to go, is an understatement but I know it is for the best and hopefully it wont be so bad ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

The UK's Independence Day

Hello, 

After being back at work now for coming up to a fortnight tomorrow with our "new normal", it sufficient to advise that not much has changed, and you can take from that what you will. My god though, I am certainly glad to have a break from the office next week. 

As we enter our fifteenth week of lockdown in the UK the 100-days mark has well and truly been and gone. Like the springtime we missed, the UK is slowly blooming again with business and social activities being reopened within the next week in most if not all areas of England with Scotland and Wales to follow suit soon after I expect. With figures from the BBC released today confirming that just 25 people recorded in the last 24 hours have passed away from Coronavirus (Monday 29 June 2020) it is looking like we are over the worst of it. 

As explained before, the disease COVID-19, was first confirmed in the UK at the end of January, however, the number of daily confirmed cases and related deaths only began to soar significantly by the second half of March and after lockdown restrictions came into force at the end of that month, numbers came to a peak mid-April, falling steadily ever since. The BBC confirms though that some of these deaths "are likely to include people with undiagnosed coronavirus or those who died as an indirect result of the pandemic. Coronavirus accounted for about 11% of all deaths in the UK in the week to 12 June, according to death registration data - a drop from 14% the previous week. In the week to 17 April, when deaths from the virus reached their peak, this figure was just under 40%."

Whilst this may be true and the scaremongering continues, I received a good news phone call last week that was certain to brighten any dreary news Mr Warehouse and I was to see. Several months ago in what can only be described as a wet and uneventful January, I wrote New Year, Newquay. Now normally at that time of year I would be gearing myself right up for convincing Mr Warehouse to save up and go on a beachy break away somewhere teasing him with thoughts of eating out every night, romantic boat trips and cocktail hour all hours. But as the holiday adverts rolled round on Telly and Jess Glynn sang about holding your hand on the Thomas Cook film (RIP), this year Mr Warehouse put his foot down and said we would not be going. His words were "we have a wedding to pay for" and mine was "Pleeeeease". Whilst he had a point, with less than nine months to go until the big day, I really wanted to beach it up somewhere and enjoy the last holiday on my Passport as a 'Miss', besides I didn't even get to take my engagement ring with me. 

So with Mr Warehouse not wanting a holiday at all and me craving something remotely similar to Malaga (minus the skin cancer-inducing sunburn) I knew he wouldn't be able to resist me mentioning a holiday to Cornwall. One of his favourite places, we hadn't been back there [Newquay] since a family wedding several years ago and both of us had missed it ever since. The following year after visiting for said wedding, our Older pooch got poorly with her Pyometra and we promised her as we went to Vet appointment that we would take her there one day to feel the sand between her paws. Now whilst she has since been to Great Yarmouth and Bournemouth on little holibobs, Newquay holds something special for Mr Warehouse and I both, something we want to share with our fur babies, old and new. 

With little resistance, I convinced Mr Warehouse to book off a week and head down to the English Riviera. After much hunting and scouring the web for the best deal, I found the perfect pre-wedding-moon! Boasting a bar and free WiFi, Retallack Resort & Spa was situated in Padstow, just 10 miles from Newquay's beautiful beaches. There is a restaurant serving British cuisine, and free private parking is available. However, at close to £300 the £40 per dog per stay was a little too steep and instead, we decided to park that property for another visit. If only it wasn't a four-odd hour journey that would have been the ideal and perfect place to wake up as a newly-wed. Oh well, I am sure I can make an excuse to make a trip down that way for a stay. And so Mr Warehouse and I settled with a stay at the Ladyevelyn situated at the heart of the Newquay Bay Resort. Just two miles from Newquay this peaceful holiday park is set in a peaceful valley, amongst the surrounding countryside, allowing us as guests to enjoy the best of both worlds. The Newquay Bay can cater to all of our needs with fantastic facilities including bar, heated indoor and outdoor pools, sauna and steam rooms and excellent entertainment. 

Less than a mile to the nearest beach (Porth Beach) our holiday chalet, Ladyevelyn, offers accommodation with WiFi, private parking and puppies can come - Free. Of. Charge. Each static caravan has a fully equipped kitchen with a microwave, a fireplace, a seating area with a sofa, a flat-screen TV and a private bathroom with a shower and a hairdryer. A fridge, an oven and stovetop are also offered, as well as a kettle and a coffee machine. A bicycle rental service is available at the reception and with more beaches to explore including Lusty Glaze and Tolcarne Beach within a few minutes it isn't hard to see why we chose it. 

So last week as I sat at my desk my mobile buzzed with a phone call from a number I didn't recognise. Answering I was introduced to an older sounding gentleman who said he owned the Chalet that we were going to be staying in. Explaining that since the Government had announced last week that pubs, restaurants and holiday accommodation could open as of July the 4th he was calling to confirm the booking. Ecstatic we chatted for a little while as I learnt that him and his wife were newly semi-retired and had just celebrated their golden wedding anniversary, celebrating earlier in the year with a cruise around the Caribbean, just in time to come back to this mess we call Corona! Asking what time we would like to arrive I asked what would be the earliest as Mr Warehouse and I was hoping to travel down in the wee-small hours of Sunday ready to make the most of our trip. 

As I waited with bated breath, the Chalet owner explained that this wouldn't be a problem since him and his wife had been living there throughout the COVID19 pandemic but would be moving out as of the Saturday night and with the place ready for us as early as we could get there Sunday morning. Sounded blissful, apart from the nigh-on six-hour drive! Finally we could relax and as I bid the owner a farewell down the telephone (he had to get back to work driving the buses around Cornwall) I couldn't contain how excited I was. 

Finally, I can now visit Bodmin Jail (since we couldn't do that on our last trip), maybe a visit to Lands End and 100% going back to the horse riding place for a gallop across the sands. To think that my little Frankenstein has never experienced sand in between his little webbed toe-beans (feet/paws). I suppose its the best of both worlds - One didn't want a holiday, the other wanted a normal beach abroad holibob - A happy compromise, something we will have to learn as a newly married couple .. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Wedding Rings - The worlds smallest handcuffs, or not?

Evening, 

Last week I spoke to you in anticipation of returning to work from being on furlough (or signed off sick - whichever it may be) and whilst we are all somewhat either getting back to or getting used to a "New Normal" it suffices to say from my nearly full week being back that not much has changed, and you can take from that what you will. 

Finally, there is not only a light on my laptop (Yes I bought one of those selfie stick YouTuber ring lights) but hopefully at the end of the tunnel. Week number 14 is opening and so is the UK for business and social activities following this crazy madness we all call lockdown. But things do seem to be looking up. Figures from the BBC released today confirm that the death rate has fallen to pre-lockdown records of just 15 recorded in the last 24 hours. Just 15 people have died today from COVID-19 (Monday 22 June 2020) giving us all hope we are over the worst of it. Unlike Germany whose "R" rate of infection has spiked suddenly in recent days, in the UK deaths and new cases seem to be falling from figures in recent weeks and I am pleased to be hoping for this to come to a steady end very soon. 

This weekend just gone however, Mr Warehouse and I decided to brave the shops as I had spoken of last week in the attempt to purchase his wedding ring and scout out some places for suit hire. I expected, rolling into the CentreMK Carpark for it to be rammed, people scrabbling for spaces and for some of those annoying shoppers to be out, standing in parking spaces holding it for the driver. God I hate those people. But no. Mr Warehouse was driving, getting in some practice for his upcoming (3rd) driving test in mid-July, and we were able to park on the ground floor, something unheard of unless you are disabled and even then it is only if some Audi or BMW driver hasn't taken up a space with their non-disability tank. 

Walking into the CentreMK it was dead. I was expecting, as ever (and don't get me started) on queuing to get in, but no. Welcome on in. Hae some sanitizer, enjoy your day. Making our way through it was eerily quiet and still, no one rushing or pandamonium for the last pair of £1 thongs in Primark. No, all very calm and probably one of the most peaceful and pleasant shopping experiences I have ever had. We headed straight for H Samuels, with a short stop off at Greggs for an all-important cuppa joe and sassy sausage roll. The high street jeweller was far from busy and after a brief stop outside the shop, we were invited in. "I could get used to this," I thought, with all this personal shoppers touch malarkey. 

Glancing firstly at the Gold and Platinum wedding bands there were a few Mr Warehouse took a fancy to, however when they store clerk said about getting a cheaper ring as a "work" one to use for every day my fiance seemed intrigued. Heading to the other side of the store, the H Samuels sales assistant pulled out a drawer with a selection of different styled rings. I selected one I thought my future husband might like. A Tungsten Matt & Polished Groove Ring, it was Modern, stylish, and durable, a popular style choice among men. However, on closer inspection, this sleek band featuring groove detailing set in a matt and polished design was not to "Sirs" tastes and instead lay his eyes upon its ring-cousin if you will - The 7mm Tungsten plain band Ring. After trying it on, he gave me that look. The simple and modern men's ring for perfect for everyday use and it's unfussy style made it a perfect choice for my (mostly) unfussy future hubby. Placing our order in the correct size and paying I felt excited to take another step closer to the big day.

Taking a leisurely stroll to Moss Bros. for our 1pm appointment, we chatted nonsense and arrived at the store by 12.30pm, early strangely for me. Again the store assistant welcomed us in and we started our consultation. Easily the sales clerk put Mr. Warehouse's concerns to bed and narrowed down the indecisive hunka-chunka-burning-love to a hired grey morning suit for him and his two best men and my Dad as the father of the bride. The Moss Bros. collection 1851 Grey Twill Tails was perfect. This wool-stretch-blend version offers the natural drape of wool with added flexibility to move, while its classic twill weave is understated but elegant. The clean-cut tailored fit is designed to define shoulders and chests adding a taper slightly through the midsection. 

Originally, tail suits were originally daywear back in times of old, but today they're worn to bring a sense of occasion to formal celebrations and the option to customise the outfit with a wide range of accessories (although we had already purchased the cravats and pocket hankies) to get the right look for the theme of the day was exactly what we were hoping to get a sense of. Coupled with the Ivory Brocade Morning Waistcoat for the groom (the name ‘brocade’ is Italian for ‘embossed cloth’), this luxurious fabric has intricate patterns woven into the surface and this ivory created version is a classic but distinct wedding-party look. The perfect neutral colour means it can be worn with any of our formal suits or accessories. Since it is cut in a regular fit it offers room to move with a smooth fit through the chest, while there’s an adjustable strap for a closer fit at the lower back.

Pairing the light cloud grey suits with an array of different coloured pocket squares and cravats was helpful and gave us some new ideas for how we can dress some of the male members of the wedding party. We walked away from the appointment an hour or so later with much more of an idea on what Mr Warehouse was looking for and what kind of look and style he wanted to achieve. I was proud and happy for him that he had got some confidence from it. I just couldn't wait for our big day now less than 4-months away ... 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

School is far from out for Summer

Afternoon All, 

As we approach our 11th week in lockdown I am drained. I am done with all of this pussyfooting around, queueing for this and queueing for that. I am done with it all. Not only am I exhausted but I still feel burnt out and whilst have been furloughed or signed off sick (whichever it may be), the last few weeks had been mentally taxing and taking a toll on me workwise.  

I suppose you could say I am at the end of my tether with it. It is all just so pointless. Figures from the BBC this evening state that whilst the confirmed new cases of coronavirus in the UK stand at over a quarter of a million, the death toll has significantly dropped to just 111 today alone (Monday 01 June 2020), down ten on last week. And I know what you are thinking, Ten doesn't seem like a lot to drop by in a week, but it is still a drop as we have not yet experienced an unsettlingly high spike in deaths or new cases as yet. This being said, however, Boris Johnson has yet to make an announcement of further openings. 

Today saw the first few schools open since lockdown began back in March. The BBC reported today that Headteachers are reporting "highly variable" levels of attendance, ranging from 40% to 70%, as primary schools in England bring back more pupils. The article explained the procedure in which the government has deemed it safe for children in Reception (4-5 year olds), Years 1 (5-6 year olds) and Years 6 (10-11 year olds) to be allowed back to school as some of the first groups able to return. But this isn't the case for all children as during the lockdown there have been some schools which have remained open throughout the coronavirus restrictions for the children of key workers and vulnerable children. 

It seems reading through the article further, that locally it appears to be a bit of a mixed bag, with not all schools either open or bringing back pupils as outlined in the government's plans with some local authorities not yet bringing back more pupils due to limited space, training and also that like the rest of us, not all staff are available due to sickness or shielding. But I can sympathise with parents and carers. I am not sure, had the shoe been on the other foot, I would be rushing to send my kids back into an environment which I could not guarantee was 100% safe. The information provided seems obscure and the contradictory information is frustrating - I am allowed to take my child to school and should be encouraged for doing so, however, I am not allowed to take them to get their hair cut or buy new school shoes? It just seems absurd, and that is before you look at the new rules children are forced to follow. 

One post on Facebook from a Headteacher somewhere up further North than Bedfordshire detailed outlines for all desks to be front-facing, dedicated circles or squares in the playground in which to play in alone and pupils only allowed a set time for toilet breaks and no others in-between, despite some of them being only barely out of nappie (although that is another blog post entirely) which would be really difficult for a little person to do. When you got to go, you got to go. 

Also within this letter to parents, the school stated that no lunchboxes, bags or stationery can be brought into school and that all uniforms or clothes must be washed every night to avoid contamination. But the most heartbreaking thing I read (other than the fact that all plush toys and soft furnishing had been band from classrooms) that should a child fall over and hurt themselves, have a toilet accident or be physically sick on themselves then they will be instructed, from afar and by a member of staff, on how to clean themselves up and how to dress a cut or graze.  

If that cannot be achieved then a parent will have to be called, seemingly defeating the whole "get back to work" thing the government has been banging on about all this time. Just disgraceful and honestly this will be harming children more than staying at home. I mean I don't want to downgrade what early-years teachers do as it is an incredible job, but surely this stuff can be taught to kids by their parents and avoid all of this trauma and upset. Besides, what kids will learn now in the next six-weeks weeks will all be long forgotten come September when schools resume properly (fingers crossed). 

I don't know, to me it makes no sense. Sure send back the over-12's. They have SAT's (another thing I don't agree with) and teens who sit exams next year for GCSE and A-Levels, but not little ones. They barely know personal space with mom and dad let alone with their little friend they haven't seen in not just weeks but maybe even months. Teens and Pre-Teens can social distance, something I know for a fact that a toddler will struggle with, not to mention trying to pull themselves together enough to put a plaster on it when all they really want is a cuddle and to be told it is all going to be alright, although right now I think we all need a bit of that. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx