<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3957375405606655192</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:04:17.222-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hum Drum Days</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Looney Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428777699878252793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6xHs6GqnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/hTrUQBZDN9I/S220/DSCF0103.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3957375405606655192.post-7408131037303151739</id><published>2009-11-26T08:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T08:38:12.275-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday 26 November</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well I've been 10 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt; trying to remember my password, it's been that long since I was on here.  I've had a bad cold which is now on my chest, so I'm struggling to breathe.  I've had a week off work, apart from a couple of hours when I thought I felt better but obviously wasn't and went home feeling a right wimp.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So I've little to talk about, having been inactive all week.  Seen a lot of TV, slept here and there and done virtually no housework.  How boring.  I'm going back to work tomorrow, I'm still not right, but I can't do with the boredom and inactivity, or that I'll be dropping in the league tables.  Seen little of Chloe, Rob has been at work or asleep, and hasn't helped with housework which has really pigged me off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;We've been discussing next years holiday.  We've booked time off in July for our Austrian trip.  Damn me if we didn't forget that the holiday is booked during Chloe's birthday.  And I'm not kidding, it didn't occur to either of us.  I wish I had thought of it !!  We asked Chloe to stay here for the fortnight and look after dogs and cat, and then she can have a birthday party here.  Sounds cool to me, but she didn't seem keen.  We'll have to keep working on her.  Steve and I had loads of parties when mum and dad were away.  Part of my evil side wants her to stay here for the fortnight, have a party and have a few things go wrong so that I can get annoyed with her, but mainly I'd like it if she could take on the responsibility and look after the house and the dogs and have no major problems just enjoy the experience&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3957375405606655192-7408131037303151739?l=suzyloublog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/feeds/7408131037303151739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/11/thursday-26-november.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/7408131037303151739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/7408131037303151739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/11/thursday-26-november.html' title='Thursday 26 November'/><author><name>Looney Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428777699878252793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6xHs6GqnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/hTrUQBZDN9I/S220/DSCF0103.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3957375405606655192.post-853488076046014134</id><published>2009-11-18T11:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T12:00:36.617-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday 18 November</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well it's over a week since my last rant, and I've little to add.  Having said that, my minor moans are always worth venting.  If you get bored, please just skip ahead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Last time I left you, I was explaining that because Chloe hadn't done her own washing up I'd moved it up to her bedroom.  Suprise, suprise, all the glasses are still up there, although she has moved them, to make some space for her lap top.  We've barely seen her this week, because she stayed at her mums or at Matt's.  Fine by me, but I do need to know how many people I'm cooking tea for.  So she bobbed round for Sunday lunch, this follows on from last week asking us to cook a roast dinner and me saying we'd do it the following weekend.  So she arrived just in time for tea, but luckily we were running late, so Rob got her to mash the potatoes and I got her to lay the table.  We had tea, which was pleasant, little to comment on, then sat and watched a bit of TV, until Rob could collect Matt for her at 8.00pm when he finished work.  Rob and Chloe bickered and winged at each other all the time.  Very annoying, don't they know how to be friends with each other?  No obviously not.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Rob collected Matt, for whom we had plated up a dinner, we watched more TV and they went to bed a few mins before us.  So what am I annoyed about?  Despite cooking her the meal she wanted, collecting Matt from Macca D's and preparing his tea as well, they didn't offer to do any washing up.  The bomb that had hit our kitchen exploded in a way as to cause maximum washing up, debris everywhere and had left food on Matt's plate that hadn't even been scraped off.  Our house is small, with two usuable bedrooms, but no facilities for providing a hotel service and no space to house a live in maid.  I think Chloe was a Princess in a former life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I've invited my friend Jayne over for Saturday night, it's our turn to cook for Steve and Donna, so I'm adding an extra guest.  Jayne lives in Chesterfield, we're extremely good friends, yet see each other rarely, only talking on the phone once in a blue moon.  I explained to Chloe that I was inviting Jane over and that she would need to tidy her room out - it's not her weekend to stay, she'll be at her mums.  Chloe of course wont do anything about it.  As I am no longer fooled by her attempts to consider helping out, I've come up with two cunning plans.  Firstly I suggested to Jayne that she and I stop over in the caravan, this makes it far more girly and means we wont bore Rob with our incessant chatter.  Obviously I wont need Chloe's bedroom by doing it this way.  Secondly I will threaten Chloe that as she hasn't cleared her room, I will be putting everything in black bin liners so that I can tidy her room, and so that Jayne can stay over, and I will hide the bags in the little box room.  There is no way that I will do this, Jayne and I in the caravan will be much more fun, but Chloe doesn't need to know this, having said that a number of items put into half a dozen carrier bags might be quite therapeutic for me, and then I can say, that I ran out of time to finish off, so we stayed in the caravan, but she will now have to sort out the mess I left in her room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Dinner for Saturday night, I intend to do fish, I'm wanting something healthy, easy to cook and prepare, but I've not really experimented with fish much.  I've choses Seared Scallops with roasted tomato salsa as a starter and from Jamie Oliver, roasted white fish wrapped in smoked bacon with lemon mayo and asparagus, served with a rosti.  I'm going to get Rob to make pudding and if anything goes wrong I'll nip to the chippy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3957375405606655192-853488076046014134?l=suzyloublog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/feeds/853488076046014134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/11/wednesday-18-november.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/853488076046014134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/853488076046014134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/11/wednesday-18-november.html' title='Wednesday 18 November'/><author><name>Looney Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428777699878252793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6xHs6GqnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/hTrUQBZDN9I/S220/DSCF0103.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3957375405606655192.post-2463496367542208542</id><published>2009-11-10T11:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T08:55:06.112-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday 10 November</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6y4BrDOoI/AAAAAAAAABA/t8MfKoJWEzw/s1600/10082009986.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408456878109964930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6y4BrDOoI/AAAAAAAAABA/t8MfKoJWEzw/s200/10082009986.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm in a rant mood, you'll be pleased to hear.&lt;br /&gt;This weekend Chloe was supposed to move into the caravan, but she had a busy week and didn't get sorted so it's been put back. I thought I'd have loads to talk about there, but no sorry, nothing. However she's made up for it in other ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday I didn't feel brill, nothing much, just tired and feeling as though a cold was starting, headache and a bit dizzy. So I spent much of the day in bed, but forced myself to get up and do the shopping, clear dog much (no-one else will do it) and vaccuum (ditto). Chloe decided to come with Rob and I to Tesco as she needed somethings (hairspray for herself and biscuits for her younger brother). mm perhaps needed is too strong a word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stood in Tesco we discussed what we were having that night for tea, bearing in mind this was gone 1.00pm, Chloe suggested Sunday roast. No way says I, I feel crap and I aint spending ages cooking a big dinner at this time of the day, I'll do that next week. More suggestions, finally Chloe suggests pork stir fry and she'll cook it. Not an opportunity to miss even though Rob isn't enamoured with a stir fry. We got pork out of freezer, 4 large pieces that just needed trimming down. From the butcher, nice quality. Unfortunately by the time we were ready for the tea to be cooked the pork wasn't defrosted. Me, still feeling crap, decides a Chinese might cure me instead. Chloe says, lovely, I'll cook tomorrow night instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, I go to a Keep Fat class with sister in law Donna. So I dash in from work, change and go back out. As I'm leaving I check with Chloe that she's still OK to cook tea. Yes no problem, I've had mine already, she replies, but I didn't fancy a stir fry, so had something out of a tin instead. In other words, something to heat up in a pan, not something that needed cooking. Oh well, get it prepared, says I, and you can start cooking the stir fry when I get back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leap forward just over an hour. I walk in to find, she's only cut up the pork. Nothing else, has been done. Now in fairness with a stir fry, it all goes in the pan, there is very little else to prepare. However, as we'd all including Matt had a takeaway the night before and she'd already had her tea, there were no pots washed and no cutlery. I dash off for my shower and leave her to organise, shredding the carrots for the stir fry and mentioning lack of plates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 mins later Rob arrives home and argues with Chloe about her preparation of shredding the carrots. She had grated them, which Rob said would turn to mush in the pan, they needed to be made into Juliennes instead. Huge argument over something so petty, she walks off in a strop as does Rob, and I then at about 8.30 have to wash up and then cook tea. As you can imagine I'm not happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later I ask her to wash up her pots from her tea and the dozen or so glasses she has accumulated over the last couple of weeks or more, and not washed up. "Can I do it in the morning, as I don't start college till around 11." Again, I'm disappointed as the mess is still sat there and she doesn't have a good track record of doing what she offers to do. I say fine, so long as she also makes sure any rubbish in her room, gets put in the bin, as it's bin day Wednesday morning and I'll be putting the bins out. I've come home tonight and nothing has been done. Nor will it be, I shall put all those glasses in her room and the dead flowers that have been in her room for a couple of months can stay there as well. And everything can be mouldy in her room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rant over. I'm off&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3957375405606655192-2463496367542208542?l=suzyloublog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/feeds/2463496367542208542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/11/tuesday-10-november.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/2463496367542208542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/2463496367542208542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/11/tuesday-10-november.html' title='Tuesday 10 November'/><author><name>Looney Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428777699878252793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6xHs6GqnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/hTrUQBZDN9I/S220/DSCF0103.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6y4BrDOoI/AAAAAAAAABA/t8MfKoJWEzw/s72-c/10082009986.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3957375405606655192.post-1343870495619992174</id><published>2009-11-06T09:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T10:37:59.821-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday 6 Nov</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm going to retell the Nolan story that I tried to type up last night but then lost the whole bally thing before I saved it.  Doh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Joanne T, at work, is a huge fan of The Nolan's.  So 10 of us went on Wednesday night, to see them in concert.  It was a great night, starting with Coleen and Shane Ritchie's sons, Shane and Jake as the warm up act, short intermission, then the 4 sisters with a group of male dancers.  The whole show was a success, they can all still sing well, and move around.  They all took a turn at a solo, and their harmonies were lovely.  But the most entertaining part was people watching.  Sally and I laughed all night,  mainly at cavorting to the music with so much gusto.  Then there was the lady who worked for Doncaster Dome showing people to their seats, which she regularly got wrong.  Sally had 3 different people sat next to her as this lady moved people around.  Then she told people off for dancing and taking photo's, and to cap it all, whilst showing someone to their seat, and walking  along an isle using her torch, she tripped up and went flying face down.  What a laugh.  Well we thought it was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;We didn't have Chloe last week, it was half term and she spent it with Matt at her grandparents in Rotherham.  Chloe is a mixed up kid and struggles with her feelings for her family and herself.  Whilst at Rotherham, she sat and wrote her dad a letter about her feelings us all and how she fits in.  She struggles to talk face to face preferring to text us, but this was something that was longer than 10 texts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Basically, she is unhappy with her life, and is suffering depression.  She started with me, the house is always a tip.  True, I can't argue with that.  I'm too sarcastic to her.  Yes I am, but I hold a load back and bite my tongue, and when I know she's upset I'm nice to her.  And perhaps if she were to show that she wanted to be part of the family, and do things, and join in, I'm sure I'd be a lot nicer to her.  Wouldn't I?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Then she laid into her mother, Helen, and her partner Gary.  I got off mildly.  Helen and Gary drink, then they argue and then they turn it around to being about Chloe or it's her fault.  Well this is how it's been explained to me.  Gary swears and turns nasty.  I do agree that she is a pain, but his language is atrocious and not suitable for a 20 year old, never mind a 16 year old and all the years up to now.  Helen, unfortunately sides with Gary, so Chloe feels that no one wants her around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm more than happy to have her around.  She's not a bad kid, I just don't understand her much of the time, and I feel as though I've been explaining the same things to her for years and she still doesn't listen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My biggest gripe, is her lack of hygiene.  I've known her for almost 6 years now, and I still struggle to get her to have a shower every day and brush her teeth.  And yet she makes me feel as though I'm asking her to clear the dog muck every day instead.  One day I came in from work around 6.45 ish, she was sat watching the TV.  Fine, but I had tea to prepare and cook ,  and wash up, she never once offered to help me just continued to watch the TV.  Now why would that be.  I was still busy cooking and washing when her dad got home at 8.15ish and I had to ask him to help me, so that I could get changed out of my uniform.  At 8.30 she had the cheek to ask how long tea would be.  Then she wonders why I'm sarcastic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;A few years ago, Rob was away at the time. she stayed with me for about a week, and she went out one day with her friend Emily.  It poured it down and when she got home, she stripped off her wet clothes and left them at the bottom of the stairs.  Literally.  I had to step over them to climb the stairs when I got in.  The clothes were still sat there four days later.  In the end I asked her about them.  What did she intend to do about her wet trousers.  She had no idea what I was talking about, which I got annoyed with her about, because she also had had to step over them.  How on earth could she not know what I meant about wet trousers.  For goodness sake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Anyway back to the letter, which from reading, I realised she is struggling with depression.  One of her suggestions would be that she move out to Matt's house, but that would never happen.  After a week she'd be pining to come home.  So after we had all talked to her about her letter, I suggested to Rob that we let her move into the caravan for the next few months.  Well at least while it's cold weather.  She'll have plenty of storage and hanging space.  and she can cook her own tea and do her own washing up.  Then she can see what it's like to run her own place.  She wouldn't be stopped from coming into the house of course, as she would need us for the toilet and the shower.  She can come in and watch TV with us or in the caravan and please herself.  She can even have friends stop over with her.  Obvioulsy Matt is included in all this.  I'm hoping she will learn to be more independent this way.  She's trying to grow up far quicker than myself and my peers ever did, so this fits in nicely for her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Our task for this weekend then, is to prepare the caravan for her.  We've plastic plates and cups in the van, so I'll be buying her, her own set of crockery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I think the next few weeks are going to be very interesting, so please keep on reading.  I'm sure you'll enjoy it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3957375405606655192-1343870495619992174?l=suzyloublog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/feeds/1343870495619992174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/11/friday-6-nov.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/1343870495619992174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/1343870495619992174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/11/friday-6-nov.html' title='Friday 6 Nov'/><author><name>Looney Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428777699878252793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6xHs6GqnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/hTrUQBZDN9I/S220/DSCF0103.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3957375405606655192.post-6499370438696337588</id><published>2009-11-05T10:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T11:02:55.315-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday 5 November</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Spent the last 40 mins telling you all about The Nolan sisters at the Doncaster Dome and I've lost it.  It's time to sort tea out now.  I'm not impressed.  No idea when I'll get back on here, but I've so much to tell you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3957375405606655192-6499370438696337588?l=suzyloublog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/feeds/6499370438696337588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/11/thursday-5-november.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/6499370438696337588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/6499370438696337588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/11/thursday-5-november.html' title='Thursday 5 November'/><author><name>Looney Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428777699878252793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6xHs6GqnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/hTrUQBZDN9I/S220/DSCF0103.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3957375405606655192.post-7554809603043144379</id><published>2009-10-29T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T11:11:10.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thurs 29 Oct</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sat listening to Chris Evans whilst tapping away, but he's distracting, I can't do both at the same time.  I've decided to come clean with real names.  For those of you who know me, it will come as no suprise that Cindy is Chloe and Ben is Rob.  Miss Gulch, well she was the wicked witch in Wizard of Oz, make you're own mind up about that. and yes I work for the Halifax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I went to visit my friend Chris last night, he lives round the corner from me, but it was the first time I'd been to his house, and the last as he's moving to Halifax next week.  He's still working with us, but it wont be customer facing, just technology testing.  Halifax is taking on the Lloyds counter system next February, he told me, so he's testing the system to make sure it will work.  I wasn't impressed with what he told me, the Lloyds system is acknowledged as not being as good as ours, but instead of putting them onto our system, they need to rush the whole thing through and put ours onto theirs so that the European Monopolies Commission (i'm not sure I've got the right title there) can't break our new bank  up.  It's all political and not good news for the staff, who work at the coal face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;My other friend Chris, probably my best friend, is going on holiday with Caroline on Monday to the Dominican Republic.  One week of fantastic weather, and beautiful beaches.  I'm only slightly jealous.  I've had plenty of holidays this year, and he deserves it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;We went to Austria this year, I know I'm beginning to become like Jackie and Andy.  Same old place, over and over again.  But at least we stop at different towns, not the same hotel every year.  This years trip was a debacle.  We took Chloe and her friend Lauren and my brother and his partner,  Steve and Donna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Chloe and Rob bickered, argued and were aggressive to each other, all the time, it ruined the holiday for all of us.  Chloe sulked and cried.  Rob shouted, swore and smacked her.  We just sat back and watched the show.  Poor Lauren was so embarrassed, and didn't know what to do with herself.  She couldn't take Chloe's side because Chloe was in the wrong, but at the same time, she had to spend her time with her and not look like she was siding with the adults.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Definately my worst holiday ever.  I hadn't wanted Chloe to come in the first place, financially we're not in a good position to pay for her and Lauren.  I had just wanted Steve and Donna to come with us, but no I'm soft and relented.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I've let it go though, I'm not dwelling on it.  But be assured, if there were any funny stories to tell I'd share them.  I just don't remember anything funny happening.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;We've booked the time off work for next year.  All we have to do now is decide were in Austria to go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I'm going now, not seen Chloe in days, so i've nothing to rant about, so this reads too boring and I need to keep you bought into this blog.  I don't want you giving up on this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I think I'll try and add some photo's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3957375405606655192-7554809603043144379?l=suzyloublog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/feeds/7554809603043144379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/10/thurs-29-oct.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/7554809603043144379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/7554809603043144379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/10/thurs-29-oct.html' title='Thurs 29 Oct'/><author><name>Looney Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428777699878252793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6xHs6GqnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/hTrUQBZDN9I/S220/DSCF0103.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3957375405606655192.post-7815720662000399411</id><published>2009-10-27T12:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T12:18:51.749-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3 part 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Next time I need to come up with a better title than Day 3 etc.  I'll choose a topic instead.  Ben has just rung me from work, I'm doing liver, onions, gravy, mash and cabbage for tea, but I've still got washing up from Saturday night to do so I'm putting keyboard aside to do some work, well I will in a minute. Because he is the best cook in the world, or our house at least, he has to tell me how to cook everything, and the order for it, I'm sure that if we could have a video link from our kitchen to his work he would be sat at his desk, doing whatever he does, and instructing me on how to peel the potatoes, which size pan to use, if I've put enough salt in the water etc etc, zzzzz zzzzz zz,  yes I fall asleep sometimes listening to him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Goodnews, Cindy wasn't here last night or tonight, she's at her grandparents, who she loves dearly, but whom I hate with a vengeance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3957375405606655192-7815720662000399411?l=suzyloublog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/feeds/7815720662000399411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/10/day-3-part-3.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/7815720662000399411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/7815720662000399411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/10/day-3-part-3.html' title='Day 3 part 3'/><author><name>Looney Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428777699878252793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6xHs6GqnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/hTrUQBZDN9I/S220/DSCF0103.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3957375405606655192.post-2667648353159579129</id><published>2009-10-27T11:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T12:06:20.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3 part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Now I can't make this blog into a vindictive attack on Cindy. So what else shall I talk about. I work in a sales and service office, I'm one of about 20 odd, but the numbers are dwindling. The belt is being tightened and staff are expected to work longer and harder with no replacements when people leave. So long as we still smile at our customers and make money for the office then that's alright. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Stress has reduced at work though, our previous boss, Miss Gulch, has moved to another county, using either her broomstick or her bicycle, probably the former. Laughter and fun is more the order of the day now, I do my work, but I'm less stressed and don't mind turning up every day. What a bonus that is. We're getting a new Miss Gulch soon, I know nothing about him, except he is a him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;In the meantime, all I can say is I work with a varied cast of characters, no doubt they'll get their mention at some point, and if they don't it's because they're boring. Today was boring, so no mentions for anyone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I have a pretty average family, divorces, bastardism (have I created a new word?) skeletons in various cupboards, same as everyone else really. I'll bring them all to life so that you get an idea of who they are and how we all gel together or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3957375405606655192-2667648353159579129?l=suzyloublog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/feeds/2667648353159579129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/10/now-i-cant-make-this-blog-into.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/2667648353159579129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/2667648353159579129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/10/now-i-cant-make-this-blog-into.html' title='Day 3 part 2'/><author><name>Looney Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428777699878252793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6xHs6GqnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/hTrUQBZDN9I/S220/DSCF0103.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3957375405606655192.post-8380202016271808779</id><published>2009-10-27T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T12:11:40.992-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dreamt about Cindy last night. I have these dreams were I shout at her, or rant, or I try to hurt her. Some phsycological thoughts there if anyone wants to analyise this. Last night I was piercing her ears using  2 stones and a sewing needle, as the tools. Now that's David Attenborough's fault, he showed monkeys, on his Life programme, using a rock as an anvil and a smaller stone to crack open a nut so that they could get to the seeds inside. Davie A has a lot to answer for, poor Cindy. Later on (still in the dream) we were at a party and she had smoked a few cigs, so I had to show her up and tell everyone, and sprag on her.   Just to prove I am better than her.  Why would I do that?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Where does all this come from, do I have a huge amount of disdain for her? Yes! Or is it because I really am a nice person and would never do anything to hurt her, so this is my only way of venting my frustration towards her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3957375405606655192-8380202016271808779?l=suzyloublog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/feeds/8380202016271808779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/10/day-3.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/8380202016271808779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/8380202016271808779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/10/day-3.html' title='Day 3'/><author><name>Looney Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428777699878252793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6xHs6GqnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/hTrUQBZDN9I/S220/DSCF0103.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3957375405606655192.post-5702318507760898961</id><published>2009-10-26T11:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T12:03:59.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 2</title><content type='html'>Had a great time this weekend.  I took the day off on Friday and ended up taking my Step-Daughter, Cindy, to the Orthodontist.  It's been obvious in the 6 years that I have known her that she would need a brace, and finally now that she is 16, something is being done about it.  She was told firstly that she needs to brush her teeth more (no suprises there then), and then she had an X-Ray which showed she still had a number of baby teeth, that hadn't got through and were stuck in her gums.  An op is inevitable and eventually then they will look at a brace.  So as a treat I took her out for lunch and then a walk around the shops. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben, my husband, and I, had invited my brother and his bird round for a meal on Sat night, so I had a look in Tesco for inspiration.  A total waste of half an hour but free parking so nothing lost.  Cindy was upset that she wasn't invited with her boyfriend Mark on Saturday night.  But I'd bought her lunch already, did she really expect me to spend more money on her!  I don't think so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead I bought a large tin of Quality Streets, to share between us all on Saturday night, leaving a load left over for Cindy and Mark as and when. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday was brilliant.  I'll talk about that later, but after dessert, could I heck as like find my tin of choccies.  No, bugger lugs Cindy had nicked into the house when I wasn't looking and took the whole tin.  I was not impressed.  Especially since the orthodontist said she needed to brush her teeth more.  More !?!?  She needs to start brushing her teeth full stop, I'm sure that would help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For dinner on Saturday night we cooked between us a Middle Eastern style meal.  Lamb Kofta's in wraps, beef meatballs in a spicy tomato sauce, home made flat bread with sesame seeds, lemon houmous and tomato houmous followed by rice pudding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing not home made was the wraps.  It was really good, I made the flat bread which was tasteless, but I know what to do next time to enhance the flavour.  Ben's spicy tomato sauce was out of this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would have been nice if we could have cleansed our palates with Quality Streets though&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3957375405606655192-5702318507760898961?l=suzyloublog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/feeds/5702318507760898961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/10/day-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/5702318507760898961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/5702318507760898961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/10/day-2.html' title='Day 2'/><author><name>Looney Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428777699878252793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6xHs6GqnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/hTrUQBZDN9I/S220/DSCF0103.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3957375405606655192.post-2604260535548718124</id><published>2009-10-23T11:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T08:51:49.618-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6yGTOeyQI/AAAAAAAAAA4/tyHp9PsAByI/s1600/01082009948.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408456023828515074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6yGTOeyQI/AAAAAAAAAA4/tyHp9PsAByI/s200/01082009948.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;First attempt. I will do more later but first I just want to get started. I want to talk about my daily goings on, things that happen to me, my family and friends. Who knows, I may get bored of this, but I've got to give it a try and find my creative me. I can't see this being a daily blog, I think I'll do a few days then miss a week, but we'll see how addictive it becomes. I need to sort out my layout and other such things, so I can imagine I'll just be playing with this for the time being. Lets hope I don't forget my address for this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3957375405606655192-2604260535548718124?l=suzyloublog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/feeds/2604260535548718124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/10/day-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/2604260535548718124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3957375405606655192/posts/default/2604260535548718124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://suzyloublog.blogspot.com/2009/10/day-1.html' title='Day 1'/><author><name>Looney Sue</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06428777699878252793</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6xHs6GqnI/AAAAAAAAAAY/hTrUQBZDN9I/S220/DSCF0103.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZG-_Bhmtv-Y/Sw6yGTOeyQI/AAAAAAAAAA4/tyHp9PsAByI/s72-c/01082009948.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
