<?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-8215093395558263917</id><updated>2012-02-17T06:03:47.373+11:00</updated><category term='countryside'/><category term='regret'/><category term='lover'/><category term='england'/><category term='father'/><category term='spiritual'/><category term='relationship'/><category term='english'/><category term='uk'/><category term='family'/><category term='smiling'/><category term='brother'/><category term='great britain'/><category term='happiness'/><category term='mother'/><category term='happy'/><category term='pub'/><category term='london'/><category term='united kingdom'/><category term='love'/><category term='sister'/><category term='life'/><title type='text'>The Isle of Tranquility</title><subtitle type='html'>The Isle of Tranquility is a peaceful refuge for those seeking insight into the wonderful world of love, self-discovery, self-improvement, healing, spirituality, happiness and positivity.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleoftranquility.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8215093395558263917/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleoftranquility.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Cherrydreams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04875182800591739330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/SiDu-UBguKI/AAAAAAAAACk/1u78Bnca2H8/S220/fgk.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215093395558263917.post-1035551966647001714</id><published>2008-05-21T02:44:00.007+10:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T04:04:14.230+10:00</updated><title type='text'>No Longer a Child</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/SDMQK6DmWeI/AAAAAAAAABg/NDL_82Nn4n8/s1600-h/AAA001-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202519774112143842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/SDMQK6DmWeI/AAAAAAAAABg/NDL_82Nn4n8/s400/AAA001-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The years of being young - so carefree and careless,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Painting in the backyard with my little fingers,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Squinting up to the sky watching birds soar to anywhere,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Not a thought through my mind to disturb the moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;This was my world, not a care and completely at ease,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;My family - so big and strong, would let nothing happen to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I am a child, with an innocent and naive approach to everything,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Safeguarded by the knowledge of nothing,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Safeguaded by the lack of fear in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;My only concerns were having to do homework,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Who I could play handball with,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And if dinner was going to be as delicious as the last.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I didn't know there was a future as such,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Because what I saw, felt, heard, tasted at that moment,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Was truly all that existed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So I lay at night, gently close my eyes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And in a matter of time I am a few years older.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A troubled teen listening to heavy rock,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Dressing with attitude because I, well, had attitude!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It was my way or the highway, and all that mattered&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Was getting drunk underaged at the local park,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Looking cool to other kids,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Making parents and school teachers' lives hell,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Trying to prove I was no longer a child.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It was sayings like "fully", "rad" and "goes off",&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And dressing differently&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Which made me mature (oh so mature).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The future was something 'old' people looked at,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;For it didn't matter much to me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I was never getting old.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So I lay one afternoon and doze off for awhile,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And wake up to another few years...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I'm a little bit older now,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But I still can't help but still have a few traits&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;That lingered on throughout my late teens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Partying still matters, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And anyone who doesn't like dance music is beyond old.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I can, like, totally drink you under the table,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And I'm so proud to say!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I want to be mature, but I constantly behave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Like a kid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I want so much to think about the future,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But I'm just not ready yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I still argue with those who have 'been through what I have',&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But to me it's just I'm struggling to understand life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Finally, life is in question - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;What the hell am I to do with it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I cry so much, I'm a little sad, a little lost,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So unaware and so unsure,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So incomplete without a logical reason,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So confused and yet - still like a little kid.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So I lay down and shed a tear, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Until I am asleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I awaken... to 'now'... the amazing 'now'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It seems that at a certain point you realise,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Life is just what it is, and I am content with that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It's not that you don't put in the effort to 'do and be',&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But life doesn't have to be stressful, or make you angry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The questions it posed to me during the younger years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Were finally answered - not in my time, but life's time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It's not about being rich, successful and better,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Okay... it is, but in a personal sense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;To me life is about experiences,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And understanding why the hell we face them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Life is about love, family, learning, being,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Kindness, passion, self-acceptance, an inner peace,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Knowledge, gratefulness, decisions, strength,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Building a good life with just that which you need,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Building relationships that you could not live without,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Building wisdom that you can pass on through to your old age.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I smile knowing that the bad things were actually good,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Assisting me in building strength, knowledge and patience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I don't see people as competition or that I must impress them,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I see them as friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I find I love listening to jazz, love to cook,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Love responsibility, family becomes more and MORE important,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Goals and opinions are not concrete because I understand life changes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I enjoy the news, test the waters,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;With friends, prefer wine than passion pop,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;With dates, prefer a conversation than a pash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I catch myself saying, already, "I remember when I was young and...",&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I catch myself rolling my eyes when school kids jump on the bus,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I catch myself looking forward to peace and quiet,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I catch myself disapproving what the younger people are up to!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I'm not perfect...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Even so, I still have fun, but not the same fun as when I was younger.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I get a little annoyed, but I don't scream if I don't understand a certain part of life,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Instead I await signs and directions and face it all - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;With purpose and a positive destination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I get behind in bills, I overspend sometimes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I still make mistakes and in fact, still find life like a maze.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;But for some reason this year has surprised me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I am content inside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And if when I lay to bed tonight,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I wake up three years older&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;(For we all know the "getting older faster" feeling!),&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I know I'll be just where I'm meant to be,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;With who I am meant to be,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;How I am meant to be,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;And still so very content.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Legally © Cherie Baker 2008 All Rights Reserved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&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/8215093395558263917-1035551966647001714?l=isleoftranquility.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8215093395558263917/posts/default/1035551966647001714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8215093395558263917/posts/default/1035551966647001714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleoftranquility.blogspot.com/2008/05/no-longer-child.html' title='No Longer a Child'/><author><name>Cherrydreams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04875182800591739330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/SiDu-UBguKI/AAAAAAAAACk/1u78Bnca2H8/S220/fgk.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/SDMQK6DmWeI/AAAAAAAAABg/NDL_82Nn4n8/s72-c/AAA001-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215093395558263917.post-2211251185876349521</id><published>2008-02-12T22:39:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T23:04:00.394+11:00</updated><title type='text'>To Love Thyself</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/R7GK2V8k8VI/AAAAAAAAABY/zZAdjyGq3pg/s1600-h/BellaRosecard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166062913779462482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/R7GK2V8k8VI/AAAAAAAAABY/zZAdjyGq3pg/s400/BellaRosecard.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your life, and everything that is in it, not only is an opportunity, but an opportunity with mystery. There are options and paths to consider throughout your life, unraveling the unknown as you go along in order to get to the right place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is hard when we feel our options are not making things very clear. But that’s why they are there; it is you who leads yourself to your destiny, it is you who has to make the right decision for Number One. The path is stretched out before you, winding and curving and bleeding like a timeline in your own big world – and there you sit, eyes wide open, sobbing alone and questioning why everything is wrong and why nothing works for you. So many choices, so much agony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s not that nothing works for you. It may be that at that point in time you selected a path that bled into your unhappiness. Did you analyse what it was that you really wanted? Did you sit down and have a good long hard look at yourself and really decide if at that point, what you wanted or thought you wanted was ideal? May be you were blinded by money, popularity, lust or by material things; therefore these or similar desires disenabled you from really connecting to your innermost need... which is, plain and simple, love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does money bring you love? No, it gives a false feeling of success and achievement and therefore heightens to a feeling similar to that of love, but by no means is. Does popularity bring you love? No, but it sure brings you a good name, or possibly a VIP ticket to the greatest events in the world, but certainly not love. How about lust? It brings you all the forms of love in an erotic form, but by no means holds the deepest form of love, and never will. Material things, as great as they are, will only bring you a false sense of achievement. Love is not inside things, but inside you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cherie xx&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Legally © Cherie Baker 2008 All Rights Reserved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8215093395558263917-2211251185876349521?l=isleoftranquility.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8215093395558263917/posts/default/2211251185876349521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8215093395558263917/posts/default/2211251185876349521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleoftranquility.blogspot.com/2008/02/to-love-thyself.html' title='To Love Thyself'/><author><name>Cherrydreams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04875182800591739330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/SiDu-UBguKI/AAAAAAAAACk/1u78Bnca2H8/S220/fgk.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/R7GK2V8k8VI/AAAAAAAAABY/zZAdjyGq3pg/s72-c/BellaRosecard.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215093395558263917.post-421375376805449787</id><published>2008-02-07T15:51:00.001+11:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T20:13:18.610+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='london'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pub'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='england'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='united kingdom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='countryside'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='great britain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='english'/><title type='text'>Why I Love England So Much!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/R6q6hKS13HI/AAAAAAAAABI/z2eimMB1ui4/s1600-h/centrepoint_tower_0028a_750.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164145001595526258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/R6q6hKS13HI/AAAAAAAAABI/z2eimMB1ui4/s400/centrepoint_tower_0028a_750.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It may be assumed that life in Australia for me would ultimately be ideal, considering for the past twenty years it has officially been my home. Australia is, of course, a handsome country afterall, with its impressive landscapes, stunning cities, cultural diversity and wonderful history. And with my footsteps covering almost every square foot of Sydney's city and surrounds, I've grown to love this place and all it has to offer; from beautiful Darling Harbour to King Street Wharf, the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House (which is, mind you, just a fifteen minute walk from my home), the shopping in Pitt Street, the small little hide-away cafes and restaurants and fun Australian pubs, the QVB, the bus rides on a hot, sweaty Summer's day that lead to Aussie landmarks such as Bondi and Coogee beaches, the unique coffee shops of Newtown, Surry Hills and surrounds, my suburb of Woolloomooloo with it's famous Harry's Cafe De Wheels and the wharf with many a fancy restaurant or celebrity (having Russell Crowe live a block away isn't too bad either!), and Paddy's Markets which is right in Haymarket and Chinatown. These are among many other Sydney fascinations... but something, just &lt;em&gt;something&lt;/em&gt;, doesn't quite fit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As a child I did dream of living it up in Beverly Hills (just like the '90210' cast did!), and likewise wanted so badly to move to Queensland's Gold Coast where the sun shone endlessly and a tan was as good a necessity as a car, but in time these were overtaken by a weird attraction to the country most known for its Queen, the constant downpour, terraced homes, brawls, snow, ancient pubs with hot and cosy fireplaces, HP Sauce, roast dinners, a "half a lager and black", the taprooms, 'Eastenders', 'Little Britain' and 'The Bill' - England, of course. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I first went to England (after many years of wishing!) in 2003. It was exactly as I had imagined! Yes, it was cold and wet, but it was beautiful. With its windy roads and cobblestone streets, warm-natured locals and adorable little pubs where a strange little toy named a "fruit machine" took up a sizeable spot near the bar (didn't expect that). The terraced houses were gorgeous, lined up neatly along many a hilly road - all looking the same but inevitably different on the inside. I loved how each room in a terraced home was decorated in contrast to the rest of the rooms, and how even on a freezing, drizzly day you could still wear a flowing dress inside for the radiators were in all rooms making the house warm and cosy. I loved how whilst wearing a big fluffy coat, scarf, thick gloves and two pairs of socks, it was always a pleasure to open the front door to an endless heat. And how cute the homes were, with little skinny staircases that lead to cute little bedrooms, washing machines and dryers were in kitchens (not a separate room!) and how strange that some of the bathrooms even had carpet! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;England's beautiful countryside was in particular a joy to see. First time in England I travelled by car from London to Bristol, then Bristol to Manchester, then from there to Nottingham - all the while taking in stunning views of gorgeous green fields (some even patterned smoothly like a quilt), the occasional tiny country pub with large outdoor picnic tables and unconventional names such as "The Owl and Parsley" or "The Slug and Lettuce". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Upon my return to England in July 2007 I again ventured from a small town named Mansfield to Chesterfield and Nottingham via bus (my uncle was the bus-driver, so free rides for me!), and again fell in love with the countryside. There is something about such beautiful and serene scenery which conjures up feelings of peace and happiness within me, and all I desire is just that moment, and everything else is non-existent. I am totally in love with the English countryside! On the bus I had such an endless view, and I enjoyed seeing the country homes and adorable little cottages, the vast amount of cemeteries, gorgeous lakeside pubs, tall and proud churches with vicious-looking lions and gargoyles eyeing me suspiciously as we drove past, as well as an endless array of trees and forests leading to nowhere but somewhere. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Who can forget the pubs?! It's part of English culture! I have been to so many different pubs in Bristol, Manchester and Nottingham where, although accents and people differ, the atmosphere and historic value certainly do not. Sure, the beers and ciders lack resemblance from one place to another, but when you walk into a cosy pub when it's snowing outside it's like a small English home, made apparent with Victorian-inspired carpet in hues of scarlet and gold, dark mahogany furniture with intricate tapestries, heritage-style stormproof windows (either foggy from the indoor heat or rimmed with snow on the outside), the pub framed indoor with black wood and brick from floor to ceiling, and classic paintings or historic pieces mounted on the walls. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;That's exactly what English pubs are like, and the nature of the people you are with, whom you meet whilst there, and those who serve you just add to the excitement. Sure, it's not a live concert or a dance club, but it sure is a wonderful place. I would sit there with friends and family talking about the great things about life, my uncle telling me stories of how my grandmother use to sit in &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; spot and drink &lt;em&gt;that &lt;/em&gt;drink (I never met her), and how often they had to tell me to stop saying how happy I was to "finally be in England". Another thing? Kicking almost everybody's arse at pool whilst downing my third pint of lager and black was of course an ego-boosting feat! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I remember specifically one particular evening after serving John Smiths, Guinness and 'real ale' (whichever was on that week - and boy, was it hard to pull!) in a pub called "The Lord Byron" in Quarry Lane, Mansfield. It was just the three of us, me, Ally, the other bartender and one of the Landlord's closest friends Rebecca, and we had shut the pub at midnight on the dot. The fire was warm and inviting, the snow outside feathered from sky to land, the lights indoors were dimmed to emit a warm, soft glow, and, quite appropriately, Robbie Williams' latest album played in the background. We poured our own drinks maybe once, maybe twice, and sat there laughing and cheering, chatting and singing, pouring and drinking, dancing and yawning. The most fun part was when we began to all sing along to 'Angels' by Robbie Williams as if our hearts depended on it, which for me was a moment where I really realised I was loving England. The feeling was outside, inside, in the company I had, and inside me. I knew then this was home, and not just because I was in a pub, but rather because of everything together; and I felt this way every day I was there and the same when I returned a second time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There is something completely different from England to Australia which I have tried to describe, but I really can't. My heart just belongs there. The majority of people here are impersonal and (dare I say) mostly pretentious or after a sole purpose (rather than a 'soul' purpose) which I really cannot stand (this is in general, &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; the people I know closely or whom I have liked over the years!). There are people who are lovely here - naturally; however when I meet and speak with an English person I connect almost immediately, and with most that I meet I end up having a dear friend for life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am returning to England in June or July to give it a real shot. It seems after having returned twice from England to be in Sydney, something was truly lost; remained completely in England. I want to go back where the thinking man's season of rain and grey skies dominates my daily ventures, where the tall castles and churches and historic buildings emanate beauty and pride, where the accents of North and the accents of South remind me of exactly where I am, where the grass is greener on the countryside, where the Sunday Roast is a national pleasure and where you're guaranteed a tasty treat of chips with mushy peas and gravy at 3am after a bout of clubbing in the town! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So wish me luck, as my biggest dream of living in my favourite country is only a few months away. And only then can I enjoy a traditional Sunday Roast (with extra yorkshire pudding, apple sauce and lots of thick gravy) down at the local pub, have a few pints of Carling with a few friends and thrash them at pool, come home and throw my soiled clothes into the washing machine in the kitchen, run upstairs and enjoy a long hot bubble bath and wrap myself in a big fluffy towel that's been draped over the radiator, run down the little staircase and pour myself a yummy Typhoo's cuppa from the 'kettle' and break apart a few shortbreads, sit down in front of the 'telly' and decide whether I wish to watch 'Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps', 'Eastenders', or 'Coronation Street' ; or whether to just lay back, listen to the pouring rain outside and thank God for no "g'day mate". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cherie &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xxx&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Legally © Cherie Baker 2008 All Rights Reserved. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8215093395558263917-421375376805449787?l=isleoftranquility.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8215093395558263917/posts/default/421375376805449787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8215093395558263917/posts/default/421375376805449787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleoftranquility.blogspot.com/2008/02/why-i-love-england-so-much.html' title='Why I Love England So Much!!!'/><author><name>Cherrydreams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04875182800591739330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/SiDu-UBguKI/AAAAAAAAACk/1u78Bnca2H8/S220/fgk.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/R6q6hKS13HI/AAAAAAAAABI/z2eimMB1ui4/s72-c/centrepoint_tower_0028a_750.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215093395558263917.post-7172539366861770793</id><published>2007-12-02T16:06:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T19:05:38.088+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sister'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lover'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='regret'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='father'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationship'/><title type='text'>If You Knew They Would Die Tomorrow</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/R1JGcfJX8UI/AAAAAAAAAAs/J_hC-YVf_r0/s1600-R/me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139247579994255682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/R1JGcfJX8UI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aL86IQXg1io/s400/me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There is no doubting that we all hold dear the ones we truly love. Our family members, our partners, our closest friends. But even though we honour those relationships and love each person for whichever reason, is it truly enough? Do we not take advantage of the closeness we have with these people, and do we not rely on that closeness to 'feed the relationship'. What I'm saying is, claiming that you are close to someone does not necessarily mean you are one hundred and ten percent into that relationship. Sure, you say you are close, but how close are you? Do you see them a few times a week, or maybe a few times a month? But you're still close, right? You phone your mother or father every so often to say "hello", which means you are tight, right? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Not necessarily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Take a family member, possibly a sibling, who you love and cherish. You've got a busy week ahead and all they want to do is meet you for ten minutes of your time and sit down and enjoy a coffee. It seems to have been weeks since you saw them last and the more they ask you, the more agitated you become. It's simple really, just a coffee, but you keep putting it off and putting it off. But that's okay, because you're still close to your sibling so whether or not you meet them for coffee is no big deal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We'll use this as an example of &lt;em&gt;testing&lt;/em&gt; that closeness. What if you could see a day ahead? What if, by magic, you were able to see the exact events of the following day for yourself, and for every single person that you love. What if, in this instance, tomorrow - your sibling was to die, suddenly, tragically, and there was nothing you could do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would you postpone that meeting? Would you not make the time to see them? I'm sure you would do &lt;em&gt;anything&lt;/em&gt; to spend that moment with them, because you knew that tomorrow was the last day of their life. You would arrange to see them, and when they'd arrive with a smile and begin to start chatting about their day, they wouldn't last five seconds because you would have your arms around them tight, telling them how much you love them. Sure they would be shocked, but they would be so happy with how much love you have shown them. And the conversation? It would be full of memories, positivity, laughter and joy - you wouldn't want to spend a moment talking about how bad your day was or how annoying things can be, because it would just waste what valuable time you have between you at this moment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Let's say you did meet them without this magical change of seeing the day ahead - how would you approach this? Maybe not see them for another week, and when you do, quickly down your coffee, have a small chat about life (mainly complaining about how life is) and then have to leave quickly and run off to do whatever else you had to do that day. What if you forgot to tell them you loved them? What if you left, and they were hurt at how you seemed so disinterested in them telling you about their day. What if, you left, and the next day they died - suddenly, tragically, and there was nothing you could do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would you not be full of regret, alongside the feelings of loss, heartbreak and helplessness? Would you not cry, "I wish I told them I loved them! I just wish I held them close and let them know!". Would you not think of all the times you could have (and you could have) spent together, even if just for a moment. Would you not remember all the times you ignored their calls because you were busy, would you not remember the times you thought how special they were to you but didn't have the time to let them know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Do not rush 'love', do not take it for granted. Do not assume that loving someone is enough, but become love to that person by being with them, talking to them, allowing them to know how important they are to you. It takes two seconds to answer a phone and five minutes of your day to chat, laugh, and let them know what they mean to you. The truth is, we cannot see ahead and we do not know what tomorrow brings, but that is the &lt;em&gt;thing&lt;/em&gt;, tomorrow can bring your world up, or bring it crashing down. What you do between then and now is what is important, &lt;em&gt;so let them know&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sure, claiming that you love someone and knowing that they are important to you, is simply not enough. If you know how much they mean to you, and they're having a sad day and don't know, and the next day something happens - wouldn't you want to go back and tell them you love them? Of course you would. Which is why it's important to do it today... &lt;em&gt;now&lt;/em&gt;. If you are angry with someone, don't let it get in the way of that love, let them know - it's better to live with peace than hatred, and no one wants to cry, "They're gone now and I told them I hated them!".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So, each day think happy things, live happily, and those that are close to you? &lt;em&gt;Any&lt;/em&gt; time they talk to you or see you, talk about the better things in life, tell them how much you love and care for them, and let &lt;em&gt;this&lt;/em&gt; be the closeness you have, not the fact that you are related/together/friends be the only reason you're close. &lt;em&gt;Live that connection&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Remember... life is fragile, but love most certainly isn't. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cherie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;xxxx&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Legally © Cherie Baker 2007 - 2008 All Rights Reserved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8215093395558263917-7172539366861770793?l=isleoftranquility.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleoftranquility.blogspot.com/feeds/7172539366861770793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8215093395558263917&amp;postID=7172539366861770793' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8215093395558263917/posts/default/7172539366861770793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8215093395558263917/posts/default/7172539366861770793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleoftranquility.blogspot.com/2007/12/if-you-knew-they-would-die-tomorrow.html' title='If You Knew They Would Die Tomorrow'/><author><name>Cherrydreams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04875182800591739330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/SiDu-UBguKI/AAAAAAAAACk/1u78Bnca2H8/S220/fgk.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/R1JGcfJX8UI/AAAAAAAAAAs/aL86IQXg1io/s72-c/me.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215093395558263917.post-7074544111758472255</id><published>2007-11-22T16:15:00.000+11:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T19:06:35.766+11:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happiness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='smiling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spiritual'/><title type='text'>My View On Happiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/R0UT7Pt9eLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t7uW61V9SN8/s1600-h/kitty.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/R0UT7Pt9eLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t7uW61V9SN8/s1600-h/kitty.bmp"&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135532858638432434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/R0UT7Pt9eLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t7uW61V9SN8/s320/kitty.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Would you like to hear my thoughts?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am just sitting here in my flat, the faint sound of wind whispering through the window and the seconds ticking by on the clock, my cat Salem sprawled heavily across the carpet. I can smell the sweet aroma of freshly made coffee, feel the breeze tickling my cheeks and shoulders, brushing my silky hair along my back. The night is quiet, dark, mischievious, blanketing my home whilst the warm hues of gold lightens up my room where candles flicker restlessly. I am in thought mode - the mood which sparks within you ideas and hopes, dreams and notions that only emerge when you feel at peace with yourself, and with everything around you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;In this moment, I may talk aimlessly; no mission, no sense of direction, nor with a plausible ending. However; it's these times where the depth of my emotions kalaeidoscope into whatever they may be. So it's time to relax and listen, and to just feel me - wherever I may lead you.&lt;br /&gt;My view on happiness?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You know, I want to be so happy. I adore the feeling that rushes through your heart as you accept its desire to take everything in full splendour, rather than with a pinch of salt. I can dream of everything right now, all I've ever had that lifted my spirits, and yearn for it's wonderful effects both spiritually and in every other way possible - just one more time. True happiness is a desire for completion, where your entire self is engulfed in what may be considered a drowning effect, of love, hope and all else that brings positivity and emotional perfection.&lt;br /&gt;True happiness, in my thoughts, is not your material value which many put a "happy" seal on. Admittedly I have had such desires, to reach the utmost of perfection with money, possessions and then myself, which in turn would inevitably result in a masquerade of false confidence and a wall of nothingness and emptiness, leaving happiness to squander nomadically far far away, and fall sadly as does a freshly cut leaf.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We all want to be happy, which paradoxically is why there is so much sadness! And alas, a lot of unhappiness is the result of human competitiveness. A vast amount of effort is placed thoughtlessly on getting somewhere that's better, doing something that's better, and being someone that's better - and I don't mean better for ourselves, I mean, better than others. Don't you agree? Isn't there some truth in that we strive to surpass our friends, family and acquaintances? Even complete strangers! (Wow they did that? I can do that, but I can reach further...). I think we are all guilty of it at some time, of hoping to outdo another in order to feel some sense of security, or some sense of self-worth. Yet in reality, if we reach whatever we believe is better for ourselves and completes our own minds and hearts to the fullest extent, then we are extraordinary winners in our own right, and no first, second or third place exists.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe happiness should not be a place to work towards, but a pathway for life. If we are forever wishing to be happy, then the great things that surround us in their full beauty and awe may indeed remain unnoticed... forever (who would painfully allow themselves that?), even as wondrous and bright they may be - so we need to act instantly. So loosen up just a tiny bit, and welcome a life of happiness with open arms and an open heart, and it will reward you in the most positive of ways. Who wants to live a lifetime without a smile on their face?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So am I saying this as a person who never endures a sad moment? No, I have plenty of frowns and ups and downs. I may not be happy all the time - I am indeed not perfect (as no one is!), but I don't want to be sad, lonely or empty. I spent too long not being able to let go of things that really do not matter, of keeping hope of manifesting a life of material rewards and expelling a hatred for certain people, things and even myself. Today is always a brand new day, and always will be, in my views now. So even though at times life is a struggle and I uselessly label it saddening and spiteful sometimes - I always come out on top in the end, for I prefer a life of love, hope and that repetitive word, happiness.&lt;br /&gt;Don't you love these moments? Where you can delve deeply into yourself without caution, judgement, or fear of loss. Where you are your own best friend, walking beside yourself on a dream to anywhere, filling yourself with hope. I love being alone at times, I am one who enjoys my own company where reflection, thought for purpose and self-discovery fall so gently into place, leaving me with an exhilirating feeling of whatever is, just is. It's where I can accept myself for who I am, whatever it is I have negatively or positively endured, and where the focus doesn't entitle the outside to exist.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so there are my thoughts on living happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I do have more, however I am exhausted! So take it in your stride, and remember that how you view yourself is what conditions the mind to be a certain way. We all have strong minds, and without sounding too much like a spiritual guru or a Dalai Llama obssessive, I believe we can be anything we want to be... I really do! Gosh, should I write a self-help book?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Maybe not yet, I'm still learning too much...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cherrydreams &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;xx&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Legally © Cherie Baker 2007 - 2008 All Rights Reserved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8215093395558263917-7074544111758472255?l=isleoftranquility.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isleoftranquility.blogspot.com/feeds/7074544111758472255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8215093395558263917&amp;postID=7074544111758472255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8215093395558263917/posts/default/7074544111758472255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8215093395558263917/posts/default/7074544111758472255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isleoftranquility.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-view-on-happiness.html' title='My View On Happiness'/><author><name>Cherrydreams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04875182800591739330</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/SiDu-UBguKI/AAAAAAAAACk/1u78Bnca2H8/S220/fgk.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rpul5XEqK6w/R0UT7Pt9eLI/AAAAAAAAAAM/t7uW61V9SN8/s72-c/kitty.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
