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<feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><id>tag:alfiesmum.blog.co.uk,2009-11-11:/</id><title>another year</title><link rel="self" href="http://alfiesmum.blog.co.uk/feed/atom/posts/"/><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alfiesmum.blog.co.uk/"/><generator version="1.0">MokoFeed</generator><updated>2009-11-11T15:59:15+01:00</updated><entry><id>tag:alfiesmum.blog.co.uk,2006-01-12:/2006/01/12/another_year~464412/</id><title>another year</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://alfiesmum.blog.co.uk/2006/01/12/another_year~464412/"/><author><name>alfiesmum</name></author><published>2006-01-12T15:51:52+01:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T15:51:52+01:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;This will be first year in 50 without going out to work at all so it will take an effort to get used to.&lt;br&gt;
While I look around at the tiny place I live to see what's afoot (never had to, but worked in another small place 20 miles away) I can see a danger of doing nothing at all.&lt;br&gt;
Don't like churches, the conservative party, home baking competitions - so that's a high percentage of local activities knocked on the head before I start. In the winter, if one lives at the end of 6 miles of single track road over the hills, it's not always tempting to take the car.&lt;br&gt;
Something will turn up - and in the meantime, I keep having long, complicated, and peculiar dreams. Must be the mind's compensation for too much silence I noticed the same thing when I worked in Austria and had to speak Genman all the time
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