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<feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><id>tag:johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk,2009-11-12:/</id><title>Hope is the thing with feathers...</title><link rel="self" href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/feed/atom/posts/"/><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/"/><generator version="1.0">MokoFeed</generator><updated>2009-11-12T14:47:38+01:00</updated><entry><id>tag:johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk,2006-12-10:/2006/12/10/some_time_ago~1422262/</id><title>Some time ago...</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/2006/12/10/some_time_ago~1422262/"/><author><name>johnnyboy54</name></author><published>2006-12-10T16:45:09+01:00</published><updated>2006-12-10T16:51:54+01:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;There was a haze around the moon last night. Some time ago, somebody told me what it meant. It was like the glaze across your eyes, some time ago, when I wish you'd told me what that meant.
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/2006/12/10/some_time_ago~1422262/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk,2006-11-18:/2006/11/18/nine_times~1342422/</id><title>Nine times....</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/2006/11/18/nine_times~1342422/"/><author><name>johnnyboy54</name></author><published>2006-11-18T10:29:37+01:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T10:29:37+01:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;Three numbers in four combinations hold the key to all that ever added up for me. &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Seven times I've checked the total. Seven times there's been something missing. Yet, I searched for a repeating combination. A sequence that would give a clue to the codes of my life.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Nine times six, my year of birth. Nine times five, nine years before I was. Nine times four, the start of my fifth age. Nine times three, the age of my sons. Nine times two, the end of my innocence. Nine times one.... That's the something missing.
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/2006/11/18/nine_times~1342422/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk,2006-11-01:/2006/11/01/the_boy_i_was~1286192/</id><title>The boy I was</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/2006/11/01/the_boy_i_was~1286192/"/><author><name>johnnyboy54</name></author><published>2006-11-01T22:03:31+01:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T22:19:24+01:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;The boy I was got lost at sea&lt;br&gt;
The waves of life crashed over me&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;One day basking on dry land&lt;br&gt;
The next washed up on shifting sand&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;One night singing soft and low&lt;br&gt;
The next caught in the undertow&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;The boy I was loved rhymes and reasons&lt;br&gt;
Fresh sea air and passing seasons&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Dreamed of being worlds away&lt;br&gt;
Knew the words, not what to say&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Felt the passions of love and life&lt;br&gt;
Lost his girl but found a wife
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/2006/11/01/the_boy_i_was~1286192/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk,2006-10-22:/2006/10/22/slow_running~1248083/</id><title>Slow Running</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/2006/10/22/slow_running~1248083/"/><author><name>johnnyboy54</name></author><published>2006-10-22T09:31:03+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-22T19:13:56+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=903393"&gt;&lt;img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/393/903393_2267d3ae6c_s.jpg" alt="Loch Ness Runners 2005" title="Loch Ness Runners 2005" vspace="5" hspace="5"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Slow running is something I discovered rather late in life but its been a revelation to me and my youngest son, Jamie. We ran our first marathon at Loch Ness in October 2005. It is a very hilly and testing course but we both completed and enjoyed every minute!
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/2006/10/22/slow_running~1248083/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk,2006-10-21:/2006/10/21/johnnyboy~1245522/</id><title>Johnnyboy</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/2006/10/21/johnnyboy~1245522/"/><author><name>johnnyboy54</name></author><published>2006-10-21T12:40:40+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-23T21:10:14+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=901672"&gt;&lt;img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/672/901672_a6a5cb26ab_t.jpg" alt="Johnnyboy" title="Johnnyboy" vspace="5" hspace="5"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Crossing over from the second to the third millennium co-incided with a major a life change for me. My wife went off with the guy next door, really! &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;After 26 years married to my childhood sweetheart I was facing up to life on my own. But I soon realised that I was not on my own; my two sons, mum and dad, sister and brother-in-law, and good friends, showed me such love and support. &lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;For a time I was in danger of losing control but at the times of my lowest ebb I began to find the sense of wonder and adventure in me that had lain dormant for some years.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Then I met the lady who was to become my second wife. A lady who had been on a similar journey but a few years ahead of me. As we grew closer we found that we could enjoy life together, exploring the places and emotions we had once thought were gone forever.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Now married for nearly 18 months, Jen and I are charting courses I would never have thought possible only a few short years ago.
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/2006/10/21/johnnyboy~1245522/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk,2006-10-21:/2006/10/21/welcome_to_my_view_from_here~1245476/</id><title>Welcome to my view from here</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/2006/10/21/welcome_to_my_view_from_here~1245476/"/><author><name>johnnyboy54</name></author><published>2006-10-21T12:23:20+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-22T19:17:45+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=896806"&gt;&lt;img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/806/896806_be4e13e256_s.jpg" alt="Connor Pass 2004" title="Connor Pass 2004" vspace="5" hspace="5"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;The Connor Pass on the Dingle Peninsula is for me one of those special places in the world. On a clear day the views are really breathtaking. My wife brought me here on holiday in September 2004 and we had great weather for four days non-stop.
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/2006/10/21/welcome_to_my_view_from_here~1245476/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk,2006-10-18:/2006/10/18/the_first_word~1236863/</id><title>The first word...</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/2006/10/18/the_first_word~1236863/"/><author><name>johnnyboy54</name></author><published>2006-10-18T22:21:00+02:00</published><updated>2006-10-21T12:32:01+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;I am making a start with these first words into the world of blogs. In cyberspace perhaps nobody can hear you scream but they have the choice of reading the words that tumble from your keyboard.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;In the 1970's it was fashionable to employ the technique of stream of consciousness writing. At that time I remember reading about how David Bowie took lines from songs, cut them in strips and then rearranged them into a new order. His early albums had some striking and strange lyrics as a result.&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;My intention is to use this medium to experiment with ways and means for capturing my thoughts, hopes, ideas...
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://johnnyboy54.blog.co.uk/2006/10/18/the_first_word~1236863/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry></feed>
