<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><title>Leaves from a Journal of Life</title><link>http://tobytyke.blog.co.uk/</link><atom:link xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" href="http://tobytyke.blog.co.uk/feed/rss2/posts/"/><description></description><language>en-EU</language><generator>MokoFeed</generator><ttl>10</ttl><image><title>Leaves from a Journal of Life</title><link>http://tobytyke.blog.co.uk/</link><url>http://data5.blog.de/design/preview/ae/f0089e209cb38f72928add2a9e807d_160x200.jpg</url></image><item><title>Who am I?</title><link>http://tobytyke.blog.co.uk/2007/04/07/who_am_i~2050737/</link><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:tobytyke.blog.co.uk,2007-04-07:/2007/04/07/who_am_i~2050737/</guid><pubDate>Sat, 07 Apr 2007 19:29:20 +0200</pubDate><description>	&lt;p&gt;A horse don't know that he's property, and a man does. There's a sort of satisfaction in thinking 'You're a man, but you're mine. You're as white as I am, but you're mine.' Many a time I've had 'em say to me, 'You're my property&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://tobytyke.blog.co.uk/2007/04/07/who_am_i~2050737/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</description><comments>http://tobytyke.blog.co.uk/2007/04/07/who_am_i~2050737/#comments</comments></item></channel></rss>
