#YourNewMcdonalds … I’m loving it 

Last night I took my new car out on it’s first official ‘not driving to work’ trip.

I picked fellow blogging buddy Hannah up and we trundled down the M1, headed towards the dizzy heights of Rotherham; a promise of getting up close and personal with McDonalds Aldwarke Lane on the cards.

I’m not sure about you but ‘back in the day’ McDonalds didn’t receive a very good rap. Parents didn’t approve and only took us there once a year for a birthday treat.

We were forever told that the burgers were over processed , full of E numbers, other nasties and generally not very good for us. I have in the past  experienced the “why is my burger so flat ‘ disappointment after receiving a very lack-lustre burger with limp lettuce  that looked nothing like the burgers in the advert.

I’m pleased to confirm that this is no longer the case, far, far from it. Continue reading

Summer time feeling … at the Botanist

We all know that food generally makes me extremely happy. To coin a phrase it makes me as happy as a pig in muck …

To coin another I ate like one [a happy pig in muck, that is]

So last night I was invited by the lovely guys at The Botanist in Leopold Square, Sheffield to try out their new summer menu.

My usual eating companion is the lovely Sue. [the naughty 60] However last night as he’s never been before I decided to treat my boyfriend. He is really particular about his food and quite vocal. The perfect critic. He’s also been working ridiculous hours so I thought it would be nice to get him away from it all for a few hours… and actually speak to me! Hello I’m here… [ method in my madness]

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Blood Brothers and pre-theatre ‘tea’ at Crucible Corner….

Sometimes, just sometimes, I realise just how bloody lucky I am. That maybe, just maybe, I’m actually quite good company and people want to spend time with me. My lovely friend Mike asked me to join him for a bite to eat and to attend a show for the second time in as many weeks. I think he appreciates my passion, the way I lose myself for a couple of hours with a supercilious look on my face. He realises that deep down I am a frustrated performer – one who can’t sing or dance, unless it’s like your dad and to attract the attention of stray dogs.I really wish life was one big musical. Can you imagine singing and dancing your way through every day. As mum would say. MARVELLOUS.

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