<?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-928034432178152752</id><updated>2011-11-28T00:20:20.559Z</updated><category term='driving lesson'/><category term='Lonely'/><category term='Barber'/><category term='mortarboard'/><category term='lonliness'/><category term='graduation'/><category term='Haircut'/><title type='text'>You Will Never Be Alone</title><subtitle type='html'>Because when you need me, I will be there..</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rnmartin.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/928034432178152752/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rnmartin.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>RNM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11698880642000533172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-928034432178152752.post-7334300121240818121</id><published>2009-06-28T22:50:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T22:53:20.969+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lonliness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lonely'/><title type='text'>Lonliness</title><content type='html'>My wife has left me and taken the children with her.  That said it's only for a week whilst they are on holiday and they're phoning every night.  It's amazing how lonely you feel; not because you are on your own but because you are so used to having people around you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add a comment and keep me company.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/928034432178152752-7334300121240818121?l=rnmartin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rnmartin.blogspot.com/feeds/7334300121240818121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=928034432178152752&amp;postID=7334300121240818121' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/928034432178152752/posts/default/7334300121240818121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/928034432178152752/posts/default/7334300121240818121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rnmartin.blogspot.com/2009/06/lonliness.html' title='Lonliness'/><author><name>RNM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11698880642000533172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-928034432178152752.post-3867216642229030020</id><published>2007-08-06T12:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T13:23:35.698+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Camp Pictures (and not a feather boa in sight)</title><content type='html'>Not to mislead any blog reading types out there.. there won't be any pictures of me looking camp. Just pictures taken whilst I was away &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095545997592053122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RrcEFmMjRYI/AAAAAAAAABM/KCaKiKxS7s0/s200/round.jpg" border="0" /&gt;cam&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RrcEE2MjRWI/AAAAAAAAAA8/4WcAGerRSyI/s1600-h/gang.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095545984707151202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RrcEE2MjRWI/AAAAAAAAAA8/4WcAGerRSyI/s200/gang.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ping with &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RrcEGGMjRaI/AAAAAAAAABc/_kHnaKpCA2w/s1600-h/theyoot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095546006181987746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RrcEGGMjRaI/AAAAAAAAABc/_kHnaKpCA2w/s200/theyoot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;a group &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RrcEFWMjRXI/AAAAAAAAABE/vpEGM6EfhBQ/s1600-h/raft.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095545993297085810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RrcEFWMjRXI/AAAAAAAAABE/vpEGM6EfhBQ/s200/raft.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RrcEF2MjRZI/AAAAAAAAABU/jnGsZUe9AyA/s1600-h/splash.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095546001887020434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RrcEF2MjRZI/AAAAAAAAABU/jnGsZUe9AyA/s200/splash.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;of church youth.&lt;br /&gt;It was a good (exhausting) few days camping on a river bank down in a limestone gorge in the Forest of Dean. The weather held well, except for on Thursday but we were raft building and jumping into the lake off a bridge anyways so it didn't make any difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The week started well with my group of 7 plus my Dad and I arriving first and cleaning all of the ground sheets ready for the youth coming.  I'm glad to say my boys helped willingly, even putting up the tables and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;chairs&lt;/span&gt; in the food tent.  As groups arrived we had games of football, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;badminton&lt;/span&gt; and knife-throwing (less asked about that one the better).  In the evening we went out into the woods and played some large scale hide and seek/block.  It was good fun and we all seemed to come back with lots of scrapes and no complaints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next two days were spent doing a variety of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;activities&lt;/span&gt;; archery, raft building, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;canoeing&lt;/span&gt; and problem solving.  Since I was the only one who knew how to walk back to camp from the archery site I got to do double archery and missed the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;canoeing&lt;/span&gt;.. but I didn't mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the second evening we went quite far out and found a great place for wide games.  With the river to the south and a limestone cliff to the north it allowed an easily definable to boundary to be made in which we could run riot.  Everyone enjoyed clambering through the woods in the dark and falling over.  I hid in a cave during the first game and put my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;camo&lt;/span&gt; netting up over the small entrance.  One of the young men came close having heard me telling others to be careful and just as he was about to put his hand in I jumped out!  Hilarious doesn't even begin to do justice to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;look&lt;/span&gt; on his face and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;height&lt;/span&gt; he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;jumped&lt;/span&gt;.  During the second game I hid beneath two logs and cover my self with my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;camo&lt;/span&gt; jacket and then piled on the leaves.  I had to give myself up because no one could find me even though they were practically standing on me!  In the end we headed back to camp all very tired and dirty.  I mean I could feel stuff crawling over me.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;eugh&lt;/span&gt;.  It was into the shower block for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the third and last evening they were too tired to play any games and it had gotten late.  We had spent the afternoon having a great &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;barbecue&lt;/span&gt; (I ate 5 burgers) and running around a small park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was good to be the youth and share a variety of experiences.  The morning and evening devotionals were great and there were no problems with any of the youth.  Especially touching was the way that one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;member&lt;/span&gt; of the group, a lively kid with various special needs was always included and made to feel wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only all teenagers were like those on camp!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/928034432178152752-3867216642229030020?l=rnmartin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rnmartin.blogspot.com/feeds/3867216642229030020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=928034432178152752&amp;postID=3867216642229030020' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/928034432178152752/posts/default/3867216642229030020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/928034432178152752/posts/default/3867216642229030020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rnmartin.blogspot.com/2007/08/camp-pictures-and-not-feather-boa-in.html' title='Camp Pictures (and not a feather boa in sight)'/><author><name>RNM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11698880642000533172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RrcEFmMjRYI/AAAAAAAAABM/KCaKiKxS7s0/s72-c/round.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-928034432178152752.post-4636305158271321198</id><published>2007-07-20T19:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T20:26:38.669+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mortarboard'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='graduation'/><title type='text'>Mortarboards?!.. more like mortar bombs!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RqEDDn-nHQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Luas-r8iJ3U/s1600-h/2007_0718test0014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089352414711454978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RqEDDn-nHQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Luas-r8iJ3U/s200/2007_0718test0014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm still nursing the lump on my head. Just because I'm the only one that can feel it doesn't mean it's not there. I blame my lumpy head for that fact that it's not as easily &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;distinguishable&lt;/span&gt; as it would be on someone favoured with an altogether more regular cranium. This lump is the result of that stupid thing everyone does after they graduate from uni.. you know the whole lets all stand together and throw our "mortarboards" into the air. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Yeh&lt;/span&gt;, real smart.. because it's not like they aren't heavy and are certainly not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;indifferent&lt;/span&gt; to the whole gravity bringing airborne objects crashing down to earth thing.&lt;/p&gt;So basically I got hit in the head by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;someone's&lt;/span&gt; mortarboard/four-cornered projectile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not one for taking serious pictures.. ever.. I include below a couple of the better faces pulled that day and one serious one (for the sentimental types.. yes mum this means you).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089356430505876786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RqEGtX-nHTI/AAAAAAAAAAk/72puZvm77vc/s320/me.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089357001736527170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RqEHOn-nHUI/AAAAAAAAAAs/luLyt6XpIcA/s320/2007_0718graduation0113.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089357723291032914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RqEH4n-nHVI/AAAAAAAAAA0/Ubn9KZXjScc/s320/2007_0718graduation0093.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Other than the bump on the head, it was a good day. The last three years have been enjoyable but difficult.. Getting married, having a baby, dealing with the deaths of a very dear uncle and friend of Lea's (my wife) and Lea's car crash being amongst the worst of it. It was a relief to be able to get my 2.1 and turn a page on that chapter of my life. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy dressing up and walking around and feeling just that little bit proud of making it - even if I looked like a plank. Afterwards we went for an "all you can eat buffet" at the Dragon BBQ at five ways in Birmingham.. and before I knew it I was home and it was all over... all 3 years, one bachelor's degree, some great friends and an awful lot of memories of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to the next year..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/928034432178152752-4636305158271321198?l=rnmartin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rnmartin.blogspot.com/feeds/4636305158271321198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=928034432178152752&amp;postID=4636305158271321198' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/928034432178152752/posts/default/4636305158271321198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/928034432178152752/posts/default/4636305158271321198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rnmartin.blogspot.com/2007/07/mortarboards-more-like-mortar-bombs.html' title='Mortarboards?!.. more like mortar bombs!!'/><author><name>RNM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11698880642000533172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FQYveERsAtU/RqEDDn-nHQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Luas-r8iJ3U/s72-c/2007_0718test0014.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-928034432178152752.post-7875812809873108135</id><published>2007-07-17T22:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T23:13:24.280+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Haircut'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Barber'/><title type='text'>Haircuts/Scarecuts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;As they say in Germany "today have I me the hairs cut allowed to". No word of a lie.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; how you say "I got a haircut".. ..with that sentence structure.. so now you know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;Two things:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I had to get a haircut because I'm graduating from Uni tomorrow. Actually, I had to get a haircut 'cause the missus told me too, but only because she won't be seen dead next to me without a 2back and side and choppy on top. Don't see what the big deal is though.. I have to wear a stupid hat anyways so it's not like anyone would have seen my unruly mop. So pictures and commentary tomorrow. Anyone found laughing will be subject to an hour's worth of lecturing on the topic of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Britain&lt;/span&gt; Eocene Strata on the Isle of Wight. I kid you not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I hate my barber. Although she (hey just what do you call a female barber anyways.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;barberess&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;barbarella&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ba&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ba&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ba&lt;/span&gt; baby bell? Whatever..) cuts my hair extremely well and just how I like it, she never uses a fresh cloak thingy that barbers (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;barberellas&lt;/span&gt;?) put on you to keep the hairs off. So I've always got the last guys nasty hairs (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Germanism&lt;/span&gt; also.. they actually have a plural for "hair") itching my neck.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;bleugh&lt;/span&gt; it's the worst.. his little prickly hair tickling my neck.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Eww&lt;/span&gt;.. worst thing in the world ever. I seriously would rather visit the dentist. Although that may have something to do with the sticker I always get and the funky glasses I get to put on when lying in the chair. I'm not sure if that to shield my eyes from the bright light they shine in your mouth or the spit fountain that they always produce. Oh and the pink drink they give you at the end. They say rinse but you know it's just so refreshing. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;.. &lt;em&gt;..minty&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/928034432178152752-7875812809873108135?l=rnmartin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rnmartin.blogspot.com/feeds/7875812809873108135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=928034432178152752&amp;postID=7875812809873108135' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/928034432178152752/posts/default/7875812809873108135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/928034432178152752/posts/default/7875812809873108135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rnmartin.blogspot.com/2007/07/haircutsscarecuts.html' title='Haircuts/Scarecuts'/><author><name>RNM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11698880642000533172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-928034432178152752.post-81621454097616505</id><published>2007-07-16T17:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T17:36:21.012+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Driving Miss Crazy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;In fairness my little old lady driving instructor isn't crazy.  As for "little and old", that's not exactly accurate either.  In fact the wife was out driving and got a puncture 5 minutes from the house.  I was on another driving lesson at the time and we popped by where she was parked to help change the tire (which I had never done before. In my life.  Ever.  Is that so incredulous?).&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;No prizes for guessing who was on the floor finding where the jacking point on the car was and who cranked that bad boy up.&lt;/span&gt;  And who then changed the wheel as well.  Clearly I would and could have fumbled through on my own but who would have supervised the whole thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Anyways, my driving today was good by all accounts.  How did I manage to pull that off you ask?  By driving around ever bend, corner and junction at 15mph.  And making sure that both hands were on the steering wheel at all times.  And believe me, changing gears with your knees just ain't no fun...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/928034432178152752-81621454097616505?l=rnmartin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rnmartin.blogspot.com/feeds/81621454097616505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=928034432178152752&amp;postID=81621454097616505' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/928034432178152752/posts/default/81621454097616505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/928034432178152752/posts/default/81621454097616505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rnmartin.blogspot.com/2007/07/driving-miss-crazy.html' title='Driving Miss Crazy'/><author><name>RNM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11698880642000533172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-928034432178152752.post-1644304333099225442</id><published>2007-07-16T14:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T14:12:45.404+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='driving lesson'/><title type='text'>My First Post</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"&gt;This is it, my first post.  This is me jumping on the bandwagon.  I haven't got long to write as I have a driving lesson in about twenty minutes.  The test is booked for about a months time and my little old lady instructor wants to make sure I haven't learnt any bad habits since our last lesson which was over a month ago.  If I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lucky&lt;/span&gt; I might be able to blag it.. repeat to self: "I WILL NOT DRIVE WITH HAND &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;PERMANENTLY&lt;/span&gt; RESTING ON GEARSTICK"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000099;"&gt;That ought to do it.&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/928034432178152752-1644304333099225442?l=rnmartin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rnmartin.blogspot.com/feeds/1644304333099225442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=928034432178152752&amp;postID=1644304333099225442' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/928034432178152752/posts/default/1644304333099225442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/928034432178152752/posts/default/1644304333099225442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rnmartin.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-first-post.html' title='My First Post'/><author><name>RNM</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11698880642000533172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
