J is for Bond, James Bond

Okay, that title doesn’t quite work, but never mind.

For our J date, I got really excited when I heard about the 50 Years of Bond Style exhibition at the Barbican in London. The Boyfriend is a huge Bond fan, and with my penchant for movies with more explosions and car chases than plot sense, it’s something we can enjoy together. With glee, I told him about it, expecting him to be very pleased with my efforts, only to find out he’d heard about it on the radio that same day. It spoiled the surprise a little, but talk about synchronisity!

The problem was getting down to London. We aren’t exactly flush at the moment, with all the work happening on the house, but we both needed the break. Fortunately, an impromptu holiday with family gave us the opportunity to stop over in London for the night, and the kind offer of a bed in my Godfather’s house meant it didn’t even cost us enormously.

We caught the train then the Underground from Sunbury to the Barbican, testing my knowledge of the Underground systems. A short walk took us to the Barbican, where we had the opportunity to take a photograph of a Sean Connery waxwork posing by one of the many iconic cars. Unfortunately, that was the last chance we had to photograph, as pictures weren’t allowed inside the exhibition.

It was a good selection of props and costumes, and had something to please everyone. I enjoyed looking at the dresses and trying to match them to characters. I got to oggle at Michelle Yeoh’s outfit from Tomorrow Never Dies (my favourite Bond film, in part for the entirely ridiculous motorbike stunt but mostly because of my enormous girl crush on Michelle Yeoh).

Meanwhile, there were plenty of gadgets, clips and props for the Boyfriend to look at. There were several different areas, including the ice palace of The World is Not Enough – an area dedicated to all the snow scenes. We could have spent a lot longer in there than we did if we’d bothered to read all the information, but as it was we just enjoyed wandering and looking at the different displays.

After, we headed back on the Circle Line to Embankment. We wandered across the footbridge towards the London Eye, enjoying some live performances in the Jubilee Gardens there as we waited for my Godfather to arrive. We then went together for some Japanese food in Wagamas. A perfect end to the date!

H is for Healthy(ish) Hotel Holiday

Yeah, I know – I said we were going to do H after I. We had the idea for H ages ago, but never got round to doing it. But we did it last weekend, at long last, so here we are. Where’s the spontaneity in life if you can’t reorder the letters of the alphabet once in a while??

We didn’t go far to go to our hotel – just 40 minutes down the road, which prompted some bemused looks from the reception staff. But going a long way away was never part of the plan. It was just about getting out of the house. We both love our house, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard to live in sometimes. It gets depressing looking at the mess of a back garden we’ve been unable to fix because of the shoddy weather this summer. And I think you go stir crazy looking at the same four walls, no matter how nice those walls are.

So, because we can’t afford to go anywhere abroad this year, we decided to do Hotel Holidays a few times, whenever we have a bit of spare cash – a good month for the Boyfriend with the Fire Service – or when we desperately need it. And believe me, we both desperately needed it last weekend.

It was a spa hotel, hence the ‘healthy’ part of the date, so we got straight down to enjoying a ‘Back to Business Back Massage’ then spent a lot of time in the spa facilities, swimming, enjoying the relaxation rooms. Disappointingly, there wasn’t a jacuzzi, but I did enjoy some time in the sauna, and the warmth of the swimming pool room, where I could relax comfortably on a deck chair and read while the Boyfriend swam.

We spent some time in the gym (which was a little sweaty before you even got started on the treadmill, but I managed to work quite hard) then went back to our room for a chill out before heading down for the three course meal that came as part of the deal.

It was a bit of a rushed night for the staff – they had two hen parties and a 50th birthday party to cater for, and our food was a little late because of it, but I really didn’t mind. It gave us a chance to have a chat and to really spend time with each other, with no distractions. Sometimes when you’re catching an hour together in front of the television before going to bed it can be easy to not actually talk to each other for days on end. It was nice to relearn the art of conversation and to remember that we actually quite like talking to each other sometimes!

The food was delicious.

That’s twice fried Haloumi, by the way, not hash browns as the Boyfriend first thought. It was indulgent, and not really in keeping with the healthy aspect of the holiday, but delicious. And I was so stuffed afterwards, it was a good job we were kept waiting a little while before our next course!

We both picked the stuffed aubergine main course, and loved it so much that we tried cooking it again at home the other day. I didn’t achieve quite the flavours of the restaurant version, but it was a fair attempt, and I think will become a favourite in our cooking repertoire.

And the pudding was so good, we forgot to take photos until after it was eaten!!

Because we had so many delays on getting our food, they paid for our drinks for us, which was a nice gesture.

We went back to the room, got annoyed at Million Pound Drop, then, like the middle aged people we are at heart, went to bed.

Not exactly the height of excitement – but I was so relaxed, which is what we set out to achieve. Shame that it’s a week later now, and I already feel like I need another!!

G is for Getting out of Town and the Grange Hotel

This date was done some time ago now, but between last weeks of work before the holiday madness and general apathy, I’ve only just sat down to write it now. How time flies.

This was a bit of a spontaneous one – we needed to go to Macclesfield to look at some pianos (I say needed, I’m sure the Boyfriend would object to that choice of word)  and decided on a whim to extend our stay to the weekend. We both needed it desperately.

We looking through a load of hotels on a last minute booking website, and while I was all for staying in the George and Dragon (glad I didn’t in the end – we passed it on our way to the Grange, and it looked like it was falling down) the Boyfriend chose a Best Western Spa. This was a good choice, as use of the spa facilities added to our de-stressing considerably.

We went to the piano shop first, and after a quick break to Costa’s for lunch and deliberation, purchased our piano. Wallets considerably lighter, we made the rest of the journey to the Spa.

It wasn’t as nice as Carden Park, but there was still that air of relaxation, and that general niceness of being away from home and not having to do your own washing up. We checked into our room and headed straight down to the spa, where we enjoyed the sauna, jacuzzi, steam room, and I read for half an hour or so in the relaxation room, while the Boyfriend, whose tolerance for steam rooms and saunas is much higher than mine, went for a second go in everything.

We drove into the nearby town for dinner, using the AroundMe app on the Boyfriend’s iPhone. We went for a place called Mario and Gianni’s because I fancied Italian, and it fit in with our G date criteria. We got Garlic bread to start.

I enjoyed a risotto, while the Boyfriend was amazed by a calzone pizza. Bless him, he doesn’t get out much.

The evening was then whiled away watching awful quiz shows on the TV. In It To Win It makes me so angry, but The Bank Job came on after, and I do find George Lamb’s hair quite attractive.

All in all, it was a date of not doing much, and that was just perfect. Role on H date for something a bit more energetic. The Boyfriend said he had some ideas, so I’m looking forwards to finding out!

F Is For Feet, Fish and Flashbacks

With the huge delay between this and our E date, I was very excited to be back spending some quality time with the Boyfriend. I’d been very poorly before this, so a bit of TLC and down time was just what I needed.

Mum bought us the voucher for this one, and though we’d had them for ages, between the Boyfriend’s shifts and my music commitments, we hadn’t been able to find a weekend together. Finally, we got the opportunity, and like I said, it was just in time.

We were both a little apprehensive about redeeming the vouchers. I’m not much of a one for beauty treatments of any variety, and though the Boyfriend has his metrosexual moments, he’s not exactly the sort to be concerned about his appearance. But it wasn’t the personal space invasion that was worrying me this time (I don’t like being touched by other people I don’t know) because it wouldn’t be a person touching me. It would be several tiny fish.

I’d seen videos of the Garra Rufa fish treatment on Youtube (no, I don’t know how I got onto it) before it became widely known here. It horrified me back then, and time hadn’t reduced any of that horror. But, I live by the principal that you should generally give things a good try, especially when someone else paid for it, so on the Boyfriend’s prompt of: ‘I have a weekend off, phone that fish place.’ I booked us in for the treatment. I knew the Boyfriend was as apprehensive as me when he started flapping about what socks would generate the least fluff around his toes and which shoes would be best to wear.

The Tootsies foot spa was a very classy sort of place, and after accidentally walking right past it, we made our way inside. After completing a quick questionnaire about our general health, we were introduced to our tank of fish. As soon as we even got close, the ravenous little things were clamouring at the surface of the water for a taste of our delicious dead skin.

We were given a wipe to clean our feet before immersing them. And I’ll freely adm

it we both held our feet above the water with identical looks of terror on our faces before biting the bullet and putting them in.

It was as feeling unlike anything I have ever experienced before. If you closed your eyes, you could almost convince yourself it was a particularly vicious and small jacuzzi. But then a fishy body would writhe against your ankle, a tail flick into the soft arch of your foot and the illusion was shattered. But you did get used to it after a while. We had a fifteen minute session, and about halfway through we had both stopped laughing and flinching sufficiently to have a conversation.

And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. It was reasonably priced, and my feet felt amazing afterwards. I think it was a tenner for 15 minutes. I’ve spent more than that on files and foot creams in my time, and quite apart from the effort that you have to expend to get any sort of result, the result was never anywhere near what those ravenous little fish achieved.

Afterward, we went to Costa’s coffee, the site of our very first date over five years ago now. Back when we were very much young, naive, and very very wet (it was torrential rain on our first date, and we didn’t have the luxury of a car). It was nice to think about how far we’ve come. We have our ups and downs, but sitting across from the Boyfriend it was nice to know that I still felt the same way about him as I did back then.

Feeling thoroughly relaxed (and overfull of hot chocolate and coffee) we enjoyed the walk back to our car on our very happy feet.

E Is For Eden Project, Enchiladas and the End Of An Era

Despite the Boyfriend’s insistence on surprising me for this date, he caved and told me what we would be doing with the same self-deprecating tone he used when he told me he’d kept the receipt for my birthday present in case I hated it. The boy should really have more faith in his ability to choose fantastic surprises.

So, I knew we would be heading down to Cornwall – a near six hour drive from where we live – to check out the Eden Project. I’d been before, but it was many years ago, when the project was in its infancy, and I was keen to see it again with fresh eyes. To make sense of the long journey, we also booked a hotel in Bristol, at about the halfway point, in order to break up the return journey, give us an extra night and do some shopping in Cabot Circus.

We drove down on Sunday night, after I ran(ish) 5K and after the Boyfriend had done a shift at work, so neither of us were in a particularly datey mood. A quick meal in McDonalds, a brief drink in the pub and we settled down to an early night. Of course, the Boyfriend, being the highly-strung, on call person that he is, was unable to completely relax and did leap out of bed in the middle of the night and run out of the room in his underwear, looking for a fire. I’m just glad it was at about half past two – I don’t think the other guests at the Premier Inn would have appreciated it too much.

After a massive breakfast, we took the rest of the journey down to the Eden Project. We were there very close to opening time, before it really got busy, but the Boyfriend was still surprised at how many people had turned out for ‘a greenhouse with a tomato in it’. A quick bus journey, and a ride on the ‘Land Train’ (that the Boyfriend got ridiculously over excited about) proved that it was more than just a greenhouse we were going to see.

We went through the Mediterranean Biome first, as I knew from experience that the Rainforest Biome would be hard work. We bickered about who could take better photos and chatted about nothing in a way we haven’t done for a while – largely due to me being completely exhausted by work pressures – and it was really nice to get away from work and home. I thought that I would miss not going abroad this year, but I think it doesn’t really matter how far you go, just that you actually get away – sleep in a bed that isn’t yours for a night or two. Spend some selfish time just on yourself and each other.

Just A Greenhouse With Some Tomatoes In It

The Rainforest Biome was next, and I thought as we walked in that it wasn’t as bad as I remembered. Within ten minutes I was unzipping my trouser legs to turn them into shorts and wishing for a cold bottle of water. That heat creeps up on you, exhausting you slowly so you’re shattered before you even realise you’ve started to feel tired.

Still, determined to make the most of it we queued nearly forty-five minutes for a chance to climb to the observation deck – a large platform suspended from the very top of the Biome from which you could look down at the Rainforest canopy. I was reminded very much of the highropes as we climbed up. I’m not afraid of heights, as such – I was fine once I’d got up there – but climbing up and down to the platform had my heart pounding and more than just heat induced sweat pouring from me.

It was well worth the climb and the wait though. And as it wasn’t built last time I went, it felt good to say I’d done something different this time round.

After that exhaustion, we bought some Baoab smoothy from a drinks bar in the rainforest. It was very sweet and sickly, but just what I needed to pick up my flagging energy reserves after the exhaustion of the wait and climb for the platform.

We didn’t hang around long after that. The Boyfriend bought some beer from the shop, and we had a scone in the restaurant, then we got the bendy bus back to the car park and began the drive back to Bristol. We stopped off at Plympton to see where the Boyfriend used to live on the way.

The Restaurant

Once at Bristol, the Boyfriend suggested we see a movie, and I essentially hassled him into watching the last Harry Potter. It was the End of an Era! I argued. That began with E. It was date appropriate. We had to wikipedia the plot of the last film, as neither of us could remember what happened (despite the fact that I have actually read the book) and then drove out to a leisure park outside of Bristol I used to go to when I was at Uni, doubling the nostalgia points of the trip.

We ate at Chiquitos, where we had Enchiladas (quite by accident) and I threw a Tequila Sunrise all over the table, much to my dismay.

Now, the Boyfriend doesn’t have a good track record with staying awake in cinemas. I asked him as the adverts came on what the last film he can remember watching all the way through was. His response was Constantine, which was the first film we went to see together, before we were even officially Boyfriend and Girlfriend. I laughed at him. He didn’t do too badly in Harry Potter (though his verdict on the film was less than favourable) and I only had to poke him a couple of times to ensure he wasn’t snoring.

Feeling very full and sleepy, we headed back to the hotel.

The next day, we did a bit of shopping, but were eager to get the last stretch of the driving done. I bought some new t-shirts and the Boyfriend picked up a really nice pair of shorts, then we headed home.

It wasn’t abroad, it wasn’t particularly adventurous, but I had an amazing time, and despite feeling very under the weather when I got home, I felt better than I had done for ages. F Date is being organised by Mum, but they haven’t done D yet, so we may be waiting a while for our next one. Still, no bother really – we have plenty of things planned for the summer, and should be kept very busy in the meantime.

C is for Carden Park Spa And Shopping In Chester

So it’s been over a week since I got back from Carden Park and this is the first opportunity I’ve had to sit down and write about it when I haven’t been too tired to even think about trying to type. Seriously, I came home from work yesterday and fell asleep and was then too tired to cook so I had Chinese for tea, which also begins with C and is therefore a relevant digression.

Anyway, it’s testament to how much the Boyfriend and I needed to get away that, as soon as we’re back in our high stress jobs, we are practically falling apart again. I dread to think what I would have looked like today if I hadn’t had my ultra relaxing spa break last wednesday.

So, we started our C date in a suitably lazy fashion, not taking too long to get up or get ready, but not exactly jumping out of bed either. After packing all our stuff we drove to Chester for a quick meander round the town centre. The Boyfriend wrongly assumed I knew the city well, which caused a little stress, but we did eventually find a car park and some shops. Just seemingly not anywhere near the vicinity of the bit of Chester I do know, with the music shop.

Once we were done with the stress of locating a parking space and place in which to spend our hard earned cash, it was a really nice opportunity to have a bit of retail therapy blow out. I got some new underwear (you really wanted to know that, didn’t you?) and a new bikini especially for the spa facilities. The Boyfriend got a new pair of trousers he’s been hankering after for forever, so he was pleased too.

After relocating the car (which was harder than finding somewhere to park it in the first place) we headed out to Carden Park. It’s a beautiful place, really majestic, with massive grounds and a stunning house. We had some fun trying to work out where to park (again, we fail at parking) then made our way inside. Our room wasn’t yet available so it was straight to the spa and straight into our hot stones back massage.

The ‘do you have any diseases?’ form we had to fill in was a bit alarming, and had me wondering what exactly we were letting ourselves in for, but it turns out that hot stones involves a bit of aromatherapy, which can apparently cause health problems if you have certain conditions. Being generally healthy people we were told not to drink any alcohol after our treatment and were given the all clear to get undressed and make ourselves comfortable on the massage tables.

In a sign of our compatibility (we need a few, there aren’t many!) the Boyfriend and I independently chose the same oil for the massage. You have to pick the one that smells most pleasant to you, as this means it reacts well with your body. Or something. I’m not sure how much I buy into all this stuff, but it was nice to smell tasty for a while.

I’m fairly sure I’m the worst massage client ever, too. I almost jumped off the table when the masseuse touched me for the first time, and it took me forever to settle into being touched by someone I didn’t know. I’m a bit anti physical contact from strangers, but after a while as the massage picked up, it felt like she had four arms anyway, and it was therefore easy to stop thinking of it as her arms touching me. And the stones of course didn’t feel like someone’s hands at all.

My previous fears of the hot stones being uncomfortably hot were close to being true – they certainly pushed the temperature to the limit of what was bearable, but it was actually quite pleasant. It certainly worked wonders at easing the stress away. The heat combined with the exfoliating scrub they did first off also left my back feeling soft and smooth, which was really nice.

After the massage was done we were sent to a relaxation room, but as neither of us had a book and every time we tried to talk to each other, other people in the room would look less than pleased, we soon abandoned that for the less soothing, but more conducive to conversation poolside. The Boyfriend swam a bit then we went in the Jacuzzi. The Boyfriend also dropped a bucket of freezing cold water on his head, but alas, I was not brave (stupid) enough to try that, and therefore cannot report on the health benefits.

While we waited for dinner, I had a much needed haircut (which sort of starts with C if you break it into two words) and then we just chilled. Chilled. That begins with C.

Dinner was a three course meal – all three courses delicious, but particularly the Chocolate Cake we had for desert. Somewhat lamely, we were both too tired to stay up much after dinner, but neither of us was dissatisfied with an evening watching telly followed by a nice early night in the biggest, most comfortable bed we’d ever seen.

In the morning, after an equally delicious Cooked breakfast, we hit the gym and swimming pool for a bit before heading home feeling thoroughly de-stressed and happy. A perfect getaway for two!

Expensive though, D date may have to be a rather less glamorous Dinner and a DVD. But I’m not complaining!

Chocolate Cake with white Chocolate icecream and Chocolate soil

B Is For Ballroom Dancing Followed By Beer At The Brewery

Due to a necessary cancellation two weeks ago now, we were late getting started with our B date. Last time it was Mum and her husband suffering the ill health. This time round, the Boyfriend and I were not in the best of health. He, despite getting ten hours sleep last night (much to my ire, I only managed five), was exhausted after a long week at work and due to his course assignments being due in very soon. I was fighting off an infection and perhaps consequently, perhaps incidentally, running on a very high temperature (hence the bad night). We both deemed ourselves well enough to date though, and for eleven a.m. headed down to a local village hall for the Ballroom portion of the day.

I’ve talked about the dance classes the Boyfriend and I take. It’s labelled ballroom dancing, but it actually includes a bit of Latin and other dance styles which names escape me. The teacher isn’t great, and we have no where to practise between lessons, so it feels at the moment like we aren’t getting anywhere fast. Therefore part of the deal with the B date was to brush up on our ballroom (et. al) skills.

Well, we minced our way through the Quickstep, tortured the Waltz and couldn’t even remember the Rumba, but we did do pretty well on the Tango. It’s always been our dance. We like the rigidity of it, I think. It’s all very snappy and tight, not graceful and flowy like some of the other dance routines. Plus we like stamping. We also did a run through of a very terrible samba and our infamous rock and roll routine we did for Mum’s wedding with Taylor and Mr Taylor, over a year ago now. By this point I was almost at melting point and much in need of the Buxton water and chocolate Button (see what we did there?) refreshments.

After two hours of dancing, we headed home to the local Brewery for a beer. Needing to avoid the alcohol, I went for a cranBerry juice (what? it at least has a B in it) while the Boyfriend, Mum and her husband enjoyed a locally brewed beer. Deciding we were hungry we had Button mushrooms in garlic and er… vegetable pie. With Brown sauce, on Beige plates (as Mum got rather overly excited about!) I was going to round the meal off with Banoffee pie, but by the time I’d eaten my vegetable pie, I was so full I couldn’t have managed it.

It was an excellent day with great company and wonderful conversation. Proof that something as simple borrowing a hall for a couple of hours can really add a bit of spice to your weekend (even if you aren’t in the best of health!) It’s also the last date we’ll be doubling up on – at least til the mystery ‘F’ date Mum has planned for us when we get there. In a few weeks time the Boyfriend and I are off to Carden Spa near Cheshire Oaks for our C date. Can’t wait!

A Is For Aerial Adventure (With Afternoon Tea Afterwards)

I wouldn’t exactly describe myself as an adventurous person. I’m open to new experiences, but have a healthy fear of the little things, like, you know, death and serious injury, that hold me back somewhat when it comes to extreme sports.

So to say our A Date took me well outside my comfort zone is something of an understatement.

We were running late to start with – QWERTYmum’s husband has the loosest sense of urgency I’ve ever known in a person. We were supposed to be fifteen minutes early for our 2pm session, but barely made 5 minutes early, leaving me and Mum to all but run up the hill, me in a mild state of panic we’d be told we were late and turned away from our first date.

We needn’t have powerwalked, as we were fine, and after a brief questionnaire about our health and fitness, we were harnessed up and led to the warm up course.

Now, I’m not particularly frightened by heights. I don’t like climbing, but once I’m up, the actual height doesn’t bother me. The sight of the high ropes did have me slightly knock-kneed before we even started, though.

I went second round the course after the Boyfriend, followed by Mum and her husband. The Boyfriend, being a firefighter, is used to this sort of thing, and as much as he protests he’s scared of heights, he certainly didn’t look scared from where I was standing! He took to the high rope assault course like a natural, making it look far too easy, so I looked totally incompetent when I went across.

I was pretty much totally incompetent, but that’s beside the point.

The warm up course wasn’t too bad, except for one portion where you had to tightrope walk without anything except your harness rope to hold on to. That was a little on the scary side, but I made it across in one piece.

Ready to graduate to the proper course, we made our way over and hooked up, the Boyfriend once again in pole position. The course was very much higher, but I didn’t find it bothered me – unlike Mum who didn’t like standing on the platforms between rope bridges.

The Boyfriend once again made things look easy while I struggled to traverse the various ropes, bridges, log swings. The upper body strength and lack of inhibition required to get across easily were not things I possessed. Despite the Boyfriend taking a tumble on the very first obstacle due to over exuberance, I still found I didn’t trust the rope to support my weight. It took me a long time to cross certain obstacles.

By the end I was picking up speed, and before too long (despite a big hold up at one very difficult obstacle) we were at the last obstacle – a rope bridge ascending to a huge tower which we had to jump off.

My throat was drying up at the mere thought. As the boyfriend scaled the bridge and got attached to the device that would slow his fall, I filmed with Mum’s Flip Camera, catching the descent. The Boyfriend was cool as the proverbial cucumber, stepping off the edge of the platform without so much as a tremor. I wasn’t quite so cool.

The rope bridge was steep and got high very quickly. The height, which honestly hadn’t bothered me all the way round, suddenly seemed a thousand times worse. My heart hammered in my chest, my breathing quickened, and I had to make bad jokes about being terrified with the assistant so as to keep my feet moving towards the edge of the platform.

Before me, a few people had chickened out of jumping and climbed down. Personally, I thought this looked worse than the jump option, and that thought kept me moving too. I couldn’t step off like the Boyfriend, opting to sit instead and shuffle off.

On the count of three, I went.

And it was fast. Not like the bouncy descent of a zipwire – the limit of my previous experience in this sort of thing – this was a freefall drop until you came to a controlled, but fairly rapid stop at the bottom. I landed gracefully (unlike Mum, who sat down and then lay down at the bottom, eyes clenched shut as she called out ‘has it stopped yet?’) but my hands were trembling so much I had to let the Boyfriend unclip me from the harness.

Knees shaking, I walked out of the way and waited for the others to take the plunge.

On the way home in the car we were full of opinions on what was the scariest bit. We all agreed, aside from the drop, that the log swing obstacle was the hardest/scariest bit. I sucked at that one particularly, and my hands are still hurting now from gripping the rope so hard during my crossing of it!

Back at home, we cut up some strawberries and homemade scones for the afternoon tea portion of the date. Unfortunately the Boyfriend was called to assist in the moving of a sofa, and so missed the afternoon tea part, but I enjoyed it very much.

Sometime soon we will be doing our B date – Ballroom Dancing and Beer at the Brewery. After the excitement of our A date, I’m looking forward to it more than ever!

If you’re interested in Aerial Extreme, they have a facebook page here. I’d highly recommend it – a fantastic day out for the adrenaline seeker!

Alphabet Date Night

Though I wouldn’t describe myself as unhappy, not by a long stretch, I do sometimes feel like the oldest 22-year-old in the world. The demands of our jobs, and the nature of our shifts, mean the boyfriend and I rarely have time to do anything significant together. We veg out in front of the TV, eat chinese takeaway and generally spend time together, but we don’t really go out.

Now, this is mostly to do with our circumstances, and the fact that we’ve both been so tired lately due to work pressures, but I’d be lying if I said I’d made as much effort as I could.

In an attempt, not revitalise our relationship, because there’s nothing wrong with it, but to make sure we give each other as much effort and time as we deserve, we are going to do Alphabet Date Night.

The idea is, every week/fortnight/month, you go on a date that has something to do with the letter of the alphabet you are up to. Partners can alternate letters, or choose ones they want to do (as long as the distribution is roughly even) and the dates can be extravagant or ‘quiet night in’, but whoever is in charge has to organise it for the other.

A colleague at work actually suggested this to me, and I mentioned it to my mother, who thought it was a fabulous idea and asked if she and her husband can do it too. In an attempt to kick start the process, we are going to do A together, and perhaps some subsequent letters too.

My poor colleague, who for B imaginatively picked a Bed and Breakfast in a place beginning with B, was treated to ‘A meal’ by her partner for A. While this is very amusing, we are going for something a bit more adventurous.

Not far from where we live is a place that does high ropes, and so the Boyfriend, my mother, her husband and I are going next week for an ‘Aerial Adventure’. The Boyfriend, being a fireman, should fair well with this, and my stepdad used to run tall ships, so I can’t imagine ropes will be much of an issue for him. Mum insists she’ll be amazing, but I’m waiting for evidence on that one! I know I’ll be rubbish, but it should be fun.

Stay tuned to read all about it!