<?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-5642450763699459624</id><updated>2012-02-18T13:03:57.636Z</updated><category term='Photo Club'/><title type='text'>Megan's Journal</title><subtitle type='html'>I will start by introducing myself. My name is Megan and I'm 18 years old, I live at home with my parents and three dogs. I work part time in the estate gardens where we live and I also attend horticultural college. I think I'm a bit old fashioned as I seem to take pleasure from quieter homely things in life, not that I have much choice as things are pretty quiet around here. Well thank you for looking and hope you will visit me again sometime.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05789086669626213642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VHUcjkn6Mm8/Tz44oF9vBBI/AAAAAAAAAkI/2mZbVFw6PiA/s220/Blog%2Bprofile-01.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5642450763699459624.post-7644169392791782076</id><published>2012-02-17T21:41:00.002Z</published><updated>2012-02-18T13:02:16.903Z</updated><title type='text'>Do you want it or not?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dear Journal,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today should have been college day but it was closed due to it being the half term holiday so I had to go to work instead which I don't mind at all, I much prefer it to going to college. They had me working in the greenhouses today, I wasn't doing anything exciting just some tiding up. I took a load of dead leaves off some Geraniums, and moved some Chrysanths in the morning and then after lunch I swept all the houses out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tonight when I was out with the dogs I came across Adam. I was a little annoyed at first because I could see him from a distance and I thought he was waiting for me. Anyway when I got closer I could see he was talking to the woman who has some horses in a field by the side of the track to the river. She was in the field so was not obvious until I got closer. I don't know if he was offering her the use of his hand warmer but he didn't seem that interested in me and you might think this strange but I actually felt a bit jealous that someone else was the focus of his attention. I really don't understand myself sometimes, I turn down the offer, get upset because he ignores me and then jealous at the thought that someone else might be getting it instead!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Love Meg X&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5642450763699459624-7644169392791782076?l=nyssasjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7644169392791782076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2012/02/do-you-want-it-or-not.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/7644169392791782076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/7644169392791782076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2012/02/do-you-want-it-or-not.html' title='Do you want it or not?'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05789086669626213642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VHUcjkn6Mm8/Tz44oF9vBBI/AAAAAAAAAkI/2mZbVFw6PiA/s220/Blog%2Bprofile-01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5642450763699459624.post-8497045348627839891</id><published>2012-02-16T08:25:00.003Z</published><updated>2012-02-18T13:03:57.645Z</updated><title type='text'>Old Thrill</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Dear Journal,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;The woman next door moved out yesterday, I won’t miss her as she was a stuck up cow always complaining about something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;I’ve gone back to walking the river path and there has been no sign of Adam at all so it looks like I missed my chance there.  What with Adam and then Wayne the other day I’m really developing some kind of fetish for older guys to the point of having fantasies about them. I feel it's only a matter of time before I can resist no more and end up molesting one of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Love Meg x&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5642450763699459624-8497045348627839891?l=nyssasjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8497045348627839891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2009/02/old-thrill.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/8497045348627839891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/8497045348627839891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2009/02/old-thrill.html' title='Old Thrill'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05789086669626213642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VHUcjkn6Mm8/Tz44oF9vBBI/AAAAAAAAAkI/2mZbVFw6PiA/s220/Blog%2Bprofile-01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5642450763699459624.post-8609667417974288153</id><published>2012-02-12T08:24:00.002Z</published><updated>2012-02-17T13:34:20.631Z</updated><title type='text'>Wayne The Windows</title><content type='html'>Dear Journal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yesterday I got up and was making a cup of tea with the intention of taking it back to bed. Whilst the kettle was boiling I fed the dogs and took the empty can to the porch ready to be put in the recycle tub later. I'd just put the cans on the little table we have in there when there came a knock on the door. I never even considered my state of dress, not that there was anything wrong with it, I was wearing my usual night shirt which goes all the way to my knees and my slippers. The thing that was on my mind was not to disturb the dogs as they would probably end up eating each others dinners if they left them to see who was at the door. So I quickly opened it to see 'Wayne The Windows' standing there. I think I surprised him by how quickly I answered the door because he hestitated before asking for his window cleaning money. He comes round and cleans the windows once a month and if there is no one to pay him at the time he calls back on a Saturday. Usually I'm in bed so don't often see him. I didn't realise how warm it was in the kitchen until I returned there to get him his £6 that mum had left on the shelf. It had been cold all week and so the porch was like a freezer and I didn't realise the effect it was having on me and just thought that Wayne was hanging on chatting just to be friendly. It wasn't until I afterwards when I went through to the sitting room and stood in front of the stove getting warmed up that I noticed myself in the mirror on the opposite wall. You could have hung your coat on my nipples they were so hard, I'm not one for blowing my own trumpet but I looked so sexy I even fancied myself and couldn't resist feeling my breasts while looking in the mirror, I got very turned on. Unfortunately my dreams were shattered by dad shouting down, 'Who was that at the door'? Well as you can image I didn't want him seeing me the way Wayne had so I quickly explained as I rushed upstairs to the privacy of my room whereupon I immediately sort relief for my poor body.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Love X&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5642450763699459624-8609667417974288153?l=nyssasjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/8609667417974288153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2012/02/wayne-windows.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/8609667417974288153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/8609667417974288153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2012/02/wayne-windows.html' title='Wayne The Windows'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05789086669626213642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VHUcjkn6Mm8/Tz44oF9vBBI/AAAAAAAAAkI/2mZbVFw6PiA/s220/Blog%2Bprofile-01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5642450763699459624.post-2391114004196077247</id><published>2012-02-10T19:36:00.002Z</published><updated>2012-02-18T13:00:22.136Z</updated><title type='text'>Return To The River.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Dear Journal,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;This morning I bit the bullet and went back to my old route by the river, I have to be honest and say that there was no other reason than the wish to see Adam. Its really weird because on the one hand I’m busting to stick my hands down his trousers but on the other hand I know I would be too afraid of what I might find and where it would lead to so I was disappointed not to see him yet in some ways it was a relief.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the moment they’ve got us doing a load of pruning in one of the rock gardens, it’s not a bad job as it keeps you warm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Love Meg x&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5642450763699459624-2391114004196077247?l=nyssasjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/2391114004196077247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2009/02/return-to-river.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/2391114004196077247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/2391114004196077247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2009/02/return-to-river.html' title='Return To The River.'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05789086669626213642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VHUcjkn6Mm8/Tz44oF9vBBI/AAAAAAAAAkI/2mZbVFw6PiA/s220/Blog%2Bprofile-01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5642450763699459624.post-9017445403196506188</id><published>2012-02-06T18:31:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-17T11:25:23.968Z</updated><title type='text'>Snow And Ice.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Dear Journal,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Today at work we spent most of the day clearing snow and ice. For some reason no one can figure the milkman drove in to the middle of one of the lawns and got stuck, he’s made a right mess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Love x&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5642450763699459624-9017445403196506188?l=nyssasjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/9017445403196506188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2009/02/older-guys.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/9017445403196506188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/9017445403196506188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2009/02/older-guys.html' title='Snow And Ice.'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05789086669626213642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VHUcjkn6Mm8/Tz44oF9vBBI/AAAAAAAAAkI/2mZbVFw6PiA/s220/Blog%2Bprofile-01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5642450763699459624.post-4180355138528578261</id><published>2012-01-28T19:15:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-17T11:25:50.916Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo Club'/><title type='text'>First Of Many.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Dear Journal,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Last night it was my first photo club night. Notice I said FIRST! Thats because I am going again as I enjoyed it once the nervousness went from me. Everyone was really nice and friendly and treated me like I was someone special. I felt a bit awkward at first but they said what they wanted me to do and by the end I was enjoying all the attention they were giving me. It was made all the better for dad not bothering to come which he was going to do up until the last minute, I was able to relax more without him there. We were over at Amanda's house tonight, they all take turns at hosting the club. I'm not sure how they come to pick the winning photo as it isn't the one I would have picked but I don't get any say in that, I just help drink the wine! I've made the winning picture my profile piccy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love x&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5642450763699459624-4180355138528578261?l=nyssasjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/4180355138528578261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2010/01/first-of-many.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/4180355138528578261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/4180355138528578261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2010/01/first-of-many.html' title='First Of Many.'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05789086669626213642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VHUcjkn6Mm8/Tz44oF9vBBI/AAAAAAAAAkI/2mZbVFw6PiA/s220/Blog%2Bprofile-01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5642450763699459624.post-6272113316002009891</id><published>2012-01-21T21:27:00.002Z</published><updated>2012-02-17T11:26:38.107Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo Club'/><title type='text'>Megan Super Model.</title><content type='html'>Dear Journal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night went ok at the photo club, they're actually not all guys, there are a couple of ladies which makes me feel better. Dad seemed to enjoy it too and seems keen for me to go and model for them this coming Friday. What they do is they pick a subject like for instance last night it was a vase of flowers and they all take turns in taking some shots of it and then when they get finished they all sit round and look at what they took. This is when the wine comes out and everyone got very relaxed and jolly. Apparently in the summer they go out places and then the judging is done at a pub somewhere. I call it judging but although they call the person with what they judge to be the best picture the winner he doesn't actually get a prize. Anyway as far as I'm concerned if I take them up on their offer to model they will want me once a month and will give me money to buy something to wear and afterwards I get to keep whatever I buy so I quite liked that idea also I get to be a free membership which I think entitles me to get pissed up with them!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love x&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5642450763699459624-6272113316002009891?l=nyssasjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6272113316002009891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2010/01/nyssa-super-model.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/6272113316002009891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/6272113316002009891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2010/01/nyssa-super-model.html' title='Megan Super Model.'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05789086669626213642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VHUcjkn6Mm8/Tz44oF9vBBI/AAAAAAAAAkI/2mZbVFw6PiA/s220/Blog%2Bprofile-01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5642450763699459624.post-1409230978950636068</id><published>2012-01-20T20:28:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-17T11:27:04.692Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo Club'/><title type='text'>Invite To The Photo Club.</title><content type='html'>Dear Journal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dave was round at our house again tonight. For those who didn't read the last post Dave is dad's mate who asked me if I would model for them at the photo club he belongs to, he seems pretty determined to get me involved. He's invited me to just go along next Friday and get to know everyone. Well there is no way that I was going to go on my own even for just a look so I told mum about it, this is the first time I've told anyone and she wasn't up for it at first but for some amazing bazaar unknown reason dad was up for it so he's going to come with me on Friday. He's got to be up to something I'm sure, probably thinks I'm going to be Britain's next top model and he and mum can then retire while I support them!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love x&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5642450763699459624-1409230978950636068?l=nyssasjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/1409230978950636068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2010/01/invite-to-photo-club.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/1409230978950636068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/1409230978950636068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2010/01/invite-to-photo-club.html' title='Invite To The Photo Club.'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05789086669626213642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VHUcjkn6Mm8/Tz44oF9vBBI/AAAAAAAAAkI/2mZbVFw6PiA/s220/Blog%2Bprofile-01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5642450763699459624.post-7673555455435631902</id><published>2012-01-17T18:42:00.001Z</published><updated>2012-02-15T10:49:21.001Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo Club'/><title type='text'>Invite To Be A Model.</title><content type='html'>I got a strange request today from dads mate Dave. I was telling him about my work in the gardens and I happened to say that before that I worked in a photo studio and he now seems to think that qualifys me as a model because he's asked it I would go and model for the photo club he belongs too. I have seen it advertised on the notice board in the village but never really paid much attention to it. I had to decline his offer of course as I'm not one for having my picture taken by people I know let alone standing there in front of goodness knows who.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5642450763699459624-7673555455435631902?l=nyssasjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7673555455435631902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2010/01/invite-to-be-model.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/7673555455435631902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/7673555455435631902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2010/01/invite-to-be-model.html' title='Invite To Be A Model.'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05789086669626213642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VHUcjkn6Mm8/Tz44oF9vBBI/AAAAAAAAAkI/2mZbVFw6PiA/s220/Blog%2Bprofile-01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5642450763699459624.post-7041801340127859314</id><published>2012-01-04T19:36:00.002Z</published><updated>2012-02-18T12:58:15.631Z</updated><title type='text'>Missed Opportunity.</title><content type='html'>Dear Journal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to confess that since Adam suggested a place where I could warm up my hands on a cold winters day such as this I've been having the most amazing orgasms so much so that I've been having trouble trying to keep evidence from getting on to the sheets. I haven't seen him since last week because I go a different way now but I can't help feeling I missed out on an opportunity there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meg x&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5642450763699459624-7041801340127859314?l=nyssasjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/7041801340127859314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2009/01/missed-opportunity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/7041801340127859314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/7041801340127859314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2009/01/missed-opportunity.html' title='Missed Opportunity.'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05789086669626213642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VHUcjkn6Mm8/Tz44oF9vBBI/AAAAAAAAAkI/2mZbVFw6PiA/s220/Blog%2Bprofile-01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5642450763699459624.post-6944328314947150114</id><published>2011-12-30T13:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-02-15T10:45:13.663Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Photo Club'/><title type='text'>Dog Sitter Wanted.</title><content type='html'>This week I am going to be looking after someone’s dog in the village. I pass by their house most nights when I walk our dogs and the woman there got talking to me the other week and said how she hates to go on holiday and put their dog in the kennels so I just happened to say that if she wanted I didn’t mind looking after it for them. I never really expected she would take me up on my offer until last night when they called to ask if I would look after their dog next week as they were going away. What could I say after I went and volunteered? Dad isn’t best pleased and doesn’t want it here so I’m going to leave it at its own home and run back and forth, I guess that will teach me to be helpful won’t it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5642450763699459624-6944328314947150114?l=nyssasjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/6944328314947150114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2009/12/dog-sitter-wanted.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/6944328314947150114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/6944328314947150114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2009/12/dog-sitter-wanted.html' title='Dog Sitter Wanted.'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05789086669626213642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VHUcjkn6Mm8/Tz44oF9vBBI/AAAAAAAAAkI/2mZbVFw6PiA/s220/Blog%2Bprofile-01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5642450763699459624.post-3826041150215548528</id><published>2011-12-27T19:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2012-02-15T10:42:54.678Z</updated><title type='text'>Cold Hands.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Dear Journal,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;For a while now I've been meeting this guy from the village while out walking the dogs. At first we just used to say hello but just before Christmas he's stopped and had a chat about work and boy friends and stuff. He seems a friendly enough guy but this morning as we were talking about the dogs he got on about Tommy's lead saying it was heavy duty. I said it has to be sometimes and that its okay except when the weather is cold and then the metal chain mades my hand freezing and he replied that if I could keep a secret he had a nice warm place I could put them to warm up if I wanted. I didn't know what he meant at first but then as I looked at him for a clue he opened his coat and I suddenly realised he meant down the front of his trousers! I wasn't sure how to react, he said it as like a joke but I sorta knew he meant it. Well I wasn't about to put my hands in there thats for sure and told him that thankfully they were fine this morning. I think I'm going to have to change my route in furture. He might be a nice guy but he's like 50 and married!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5642450763699459624-3826041150215548528?l=nyssasjournal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/feeds/3826041150215548528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2008/12/cold-hands.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/3826041150215548528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5642450763699459624/posts/default/3826041150215548528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nyssasjournal.blogspot.com/2008/12/cold-hands.html' title='Cold Hands.'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05789086669626213642</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VHUcjkn6Mm8/Tz44oF9vBBI/AAAAAAAAAkI/2mZbVFw6PiA/s220/Blog%2Bprofile-01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
