<?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-6133458</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:44:29.201+01:00</updated><title type='text'>devagarinho...</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
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só assim... pra saborear!

já devem ter pecebido... este blog é duma alentejana :)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ana</name><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>52</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107591586365142852</id><published>2004-02-04T17:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-04T17:56:13.826Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Vou parar este blog uns tempinhos.Não me apetece agora... estou a passar uma fase meio esquisita, não me apetece nada de nada.Continuo com o Columbiana, a registar as 'viagens' e a dizer qualquer coisinha quando me dá pra isso.Viajar e ler é só mesmo o que me apetece... mas isto é temporário, espero:)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107591586365142852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107591586365142852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_02_01_archive.html#107591586365142852' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107542488411579215</id><published>2004-01-30T01:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-02-04T17:40:00.873Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Completa falta de imaginação e de outras coisas que tais.Abri isto só para ver se algum espirito me possui, eheheh........nadinha! isso não é pra todos, não...:)sendo assim... vou dormir!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107542488411579215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107542488411579215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107542488411579215' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107507490945768963</id><published>2004-01-25T23:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-25T23:58:47.170Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>o meu retrato, apresento-me finalmente:)nas minhas deambulações, já nem sei a propósito de quê, entrei aqui e...foi identificação à primeira vista.(ele foi generoso, beneficiou-me, claro, mas foi só um nadinha:) )</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107507490945768963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107507490945768963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107507490945768963' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107460087165535260</id><published>2004-01-20T12:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-20T12:48:43.030Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Keith CarterVoyage, 1998</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107460087165535260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107460087165535260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107460087165535260' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107456516306962060</id><published>2004-01-20T02:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-20T12:25:26.233Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Continuo a ter vontade de chorar diante da beleza(nem tudo está perdido:) )Em miuda, chorava desalmadamente em situações aparentemente tão descabidas, que pensavam que era fita, e a tia Ema alcunhou-me de Maria Matos...Eu ficava tão triste... ao menos Madalena, pensava.Agora é a minha filha que se ri, assim com um sorrisinho nervoso, e me vai buscar a primeira coisa que lhe ocorre, achando </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107456516306962060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107456516306962060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107456516306962060' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107447672663757567</id><published>2004-01-19T01:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-19T01:47:23.763Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"(...)A felicidade camusiana é um estado onde o sujeito que ama está unido ao objecto amado, o ser vivo com a vida e o existente com a existência, ou seja, em Camus a felicidade traduz um acordo; um acordo do ser com a existência que leva, ou seja, trata-se de uma união e assim, o desejo de felicidade confunde-se de certa forma com o desejo de unidade. "Felicidade" quer dizer "unidade", não </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107447672663757567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107447672663757567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107447672663757567' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107446734161870876</id><published>2004-01-18T23:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-18T23:13:52.483Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Harbor and Castello Doria, sunset, Vernazza. Cinque Terre, Liguria, ItalySiga, mais ItáliaConfessem, já tão enjoados na tão?Mas não há nada a fazer, não resisto a trazer algumas photos comigo.Só posso ter já sido Italiana, e faz sentido:ana, alentej_ana, columbi_ana e... itali_ana! lolmas depois sou tambem outras coisas que na rimam...mas agora não tenho tempo nem me apetece pensar </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107446734161870876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107446734161870876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107446734161870876' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107429937143759196</id><published>2004-01-17T00:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-17T00:32:26.590Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Não consigo ler nadinha do que escrevi hoje e quando faço "view blog" ele diz que não tem cache, será cash q'ele quer dizer? ahaha isso tambem eu nao tenho, oh que caroço até nem o meu blog tem disso lollll</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107429937143759196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107429937143759196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107429937143759196' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-10742980338820608</id><published>2004-01-17T00:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-17T00:14:21.216Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Estava agora a dizer no Columbiana que tinha descoberto o site dos hermanos onde tem as musicas todas, e eu ainda não tenho o CDOlhem só esta letra parece que tão a falar pra mim. Até o Devagar tá lá!:)Temos sempre tanta satisfação em nos revermos no que alguem escreveu... engraçado isso, temos sempre alguem a retratar-nos:)Olha lá quem vem do lado opostoe vem sem gosto de viverOlha lá os </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/10742980338820608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/10742980338820608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#10742980338820608' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107428742981614276</id><published>2004-01-16T21:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-16T21:49:17.280Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Adoro ter este devagarinho assim... digamos que, um pouquinho resguardado.É sempre um blog publico, claro, até está linkado no Columbiana e tudo, mas o facto de eu aparecer sempre "em publico", nomeadamente quando comento em outros blogs, com o Columbiana, dá-me a confortante sensação que só vem ao Devagarinho quem esteve no Columbiana, gostou e quis conhecer mais... que quem vem ao Devagarinho</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107428742981614276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107428742981614276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107428742981614276' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107395560906724760</id><published>2004-01-13T01:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-13T01:00:30.406Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Uma artede Elizabeth Bishop, tradução de Paulo Henriques BrittoA arte de perder não é nenhum mistério; Tantas coisas contêm em si o acidenteDe perdê-las, que perder não é nada sério. Perca um pouquinho a cada dia. Aceite, austero, A chave perdida, a hora gasta bestamente. A arte de perder não é nenhum mistério. Depois perca mais rápido, com mais critério: Lugares, nomes, a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107395560906724760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107395560906724760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107395560906724760' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107395365400511963</id><published>2004-01-13T00:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-13T01:14:15.070Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>© David Graham / photo-eyeAngel Milou as Liz Taylor, Haverford, PA, 1993Photo para auto inspiração. Não posso cair de cima do salto! nem pensar nisso é bom! Sempre em frente e pôdêrósa!ah pois!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107395365400511963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107395365400511963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107395365400511963' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107379368948631620</id><published>2004-01-11T04:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-11T13:11:04.790Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>O meu cão têm-me a mim, não sou eu que tenho um cãoAdoro animais, mas tenho um grave problema, não os sei educar...É o problema da confiança a mais.Actualmente tenho um cão, um rafeirinho lindinho, que tá mau como as cobras e tenho um passaro mas esse, tadinho, tá sossegado e pronto, não tem lá assim muita piada, mas cá está e há tantos anos, que já faz parte da mobilia.Agora o Xuinha, é </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107379368948631620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107379368948631620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107379368948631620' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107374766869771369</id><published>2004-01-10T15:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-10T15:15:53.473Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Que grande doidêra!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107374766869771369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107374766869771369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107374766869771369' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107369003875092843</id><published>2004-01-09T23:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-09T23:14:19.086Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Mas porque é que vestem a rapariguinha dos idolos(que até é tão engraçadita) com aqueles corpetes que lhe ficam horrorosos? depois apertam pra sair qualquer coisa por cima, mas ela na tem nadinha... só se lhe sairem por ali os ovarios ahahahtô mesmo parva hoje, foi um dia mesmo estupido!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107369003875092843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107369003875092843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107369003875092843' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107334445673787126</id><published>2004-01-05T23:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-01-06T23:23:14.446Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>© Gueorgui Pinkhassov / Magnum PhotosYearly floods, caused by Autumn rain, inundate Piazza San Marco and its surroundings.ITALIE- Venise 2002. by Gueorgui PinkhassovE depois das chuvadas vem...Neste momento, estou de verdade esperançada que o novo ano seja melhor, que o meu "fundo" esteja feito, e já agora, que não precise de muito tempo a lateralizar junto ao fundo, antes de recuperar :)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107334445673787126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107334445673787126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2004_01_01_archive.html#107334445673787126' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107266192505239251</id><published>2003-12-29T01:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-29T01:39:24.013Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Que saudades do Alentejo, de Lisboa, de alguns amigos, de algumas canções,de poder decidir, de rir com a cabeça inclinada pra trás, de ter segredos,de ter coragem desmedida, de dormir tranquilamente, de bater a porta, de partir a louça,de ter sentido de humor, de ser especial,de ter planos ambiciosos, de nada temer,de acordar e fazer acontecer.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107266192505239251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107266192505239251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107266192505239251' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107227022746397335</id><published>2003-12-24T12:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-24T12:51:43.290Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Feliz Natal!Rossetti, Dante GabrielA Christmas Carol1857-58Watercolor and gouache on panel13 1/8 x 11 1/4 inFogg Art Museum, Cambridge, Massachusetts</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107227022746397335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107227022746397335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107227022746397335' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107184651212701648</id><published>2003-12-19T15:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-19T15:08:46.933Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>O fisco vai proceder a penhoras, lá se vão as minhas "Vitons" já é só o que me resta ahahahhAlguem quer comprar??? lolEu já sei, dou uma das galerias do Columbiana, pode ser a Matisse que vou postar em seguida, como garantia ahahahari-te ri-te...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107184651212701648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107184651212701648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107184651212701648' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107176375908123594</id><published>2003-12-18T16:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-18T16:09:33.586Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>E o natal aproxima-se a passos largos... e eu, nem uma compra feita, na me apetece!Mas tem que ser amanhã! amanhã vais, óviste???? ok okPronto tá registado!Mas o que de verdade me apetecia, e que não posso, era dizer a todoslol, é que estas festas vão ser uma trabalhêra do piorio, nem quero pensar...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107176375908123594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107176375908123594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107176375908123594' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107170469757312054</id><published>2003-12-17T23:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-17T23:46:22.733Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>POEMA DE SETE FACESQuando nasci, um anjo tortodesses que vivem na sombradisse: Vai Carlos! Ser gauche na vida.As casas espiam os homensque correm atrás das mulheres.A tarde talvez fosse azul,não houvesse tantos desejos.O bonde passa cheio de pernas:pernas brancas pretas amarelas.Para que tanta perna, meu Deus, pergunta meu coração.Porém meus olhosnão perguntam nada.O homem atrás </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107170469757312054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107170469757312054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107170469757312054' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107160732058748947</id><published>2003-12-16T20:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-16T21:22:45.780Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Klimt, GustavDie Jungfrau, 1913 (110 Kb); The Virgin; Narodni Galerie, Prague Beautiful very colourful painting of a group of women yawning, stretching, sleeping. It looks like ten women in one bed with loads of colourful duvets. Brilliant.The work of the Austrian painter and illustrator Gustav Klimt, b. July 14, 1862, d. Feb. 6, 1918, founder of the school of painting known as the Vienna </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107160732058748947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107160732058748947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107160732058748947' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107152183498241174</id><published>2003-12-15T20:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-16T21:23:06.840Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Stu LevyUnder the Charles Bridge, Prague, 1997Toned Gelatin Silver Print16 x 20 inchesA lentidãoHá um vínculo secreto entre a lentidão e a memória, entre a velocidade e o esquecimento. Imaginemos uma situação das mais comuns: um homem andando na rua. De repente, ele quer lembrar-se de alguma coisa que lhe escapa. Nesse momento, maquinalmente, os seus passos ficam lentos. Ao contrário, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107152183498241174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107152183498241174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107152183498241174' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107135215899937292</id><published>2003-12-13T21:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-13T22:11:18.276Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-Tô?-Oi!-Oiiiiii!-Comprei umas botas :(-?-Caríssimas!... e agora vou com elas onde, nesta terra?-AHAHAHAHA</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107135215899937292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107135215899937292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107135215899937292' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107135127676927266</id><published>2003-12-13T21:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-13T21:35:40.400Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-Mãe...-simmm...-tou a escrever um livro-ai que giro! conta!-lá explicou o enredo--e já escreveste muito?-já! pr'aí umas 20 paginas-e depois de terminado fazes-lhe o quê?-depois ponho num blog!-AHAHHAHAHA(esta família faz tudo ao contrário... lol)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107135127676927266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107135127676927266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107135127676927266' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107134341121994499</id><published>2003-12-13T19:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-13T19:24:25.950Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Coloquei um mural de recados lá no finzinho do blog, modernices...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107134341121994499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107134341121994499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107134341121994499' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107134096089819749</id><published>2003-12-13T18:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-15T21:07:51.723Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Bruno Barbey / Magnum PhotosFlorençaai ai... (ler assim em tom de suspiro vindo lá do fundo, do fundo:) )</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107134096089819749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107134096089819749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107134096089819749' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107132394096619464</id><published>2003-12-13T13:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-13T14:00:43.856Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Amo o público, mas não o admiro. Como indivíduos, sim. Mas, como multidão, não passa de um monstro sem cabeça. Charles Chaplin</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107132394096619464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107132394096619464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107132394096619464' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107128159633811643</id><published>2003-12-13T02:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-13T02:15:10.353Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Já não posso ouvir falar da questão do aborto!Então a mulher não há-de ter o direito de escolha??? E se optar pelo aborto não deverá ser tratada com dignidade???Enquanto discutem esbracejando, de ambos os lados da barricada, continuam a sofrer (e a morrer) mulheres. Essa é q'é essa!E não posso ver CERTAS pessoas pronunciarem-se contra. Mas como assim? São desmemoriados, autistas, cegos ou são </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107128159633811643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107128159633811643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107128159633811643' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107119158507235017</id><published>2003-12-12T01:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-15T21:08:29.410Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Cornelia NautaDe l'autre côté du miroir</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107119158507235017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107119158507235017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107119158507235017' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107107387272109246</id><published>2003-12-10T16:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-12T01:26:59.870Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Se fossemos ao menos terrenos ferteis, não premitiríamos que nada se tornasse inútil e veríamos em cada acontecimento, em cada coisa e em cada homem um adubo bem vindo.Friedrich Nietzsche</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107107387272109246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107107387272109246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107107387272109246' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107098400378910513</id><published>2003-12-09T15:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-12T01:10:43.570Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Se esta rua fosse mi i inhaeu mandava ladrilhar....tem sido a manhã toda nisto, lembra peixinhos :)deve ser por estar a ver o DJ a 10 000, os gajos da CNBC estão esfusiantes, aliás, já tá tudo esfusiante demais, tá na hora do malho?!...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107098400378910513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107098400378910513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107098400378910513' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107091237104564780</id><published>2003-12-08T19:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-12T01:27:26.730Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>uma mente iluminada olhando os escritos dos outros lol(assim que agora tropecei nesta imagem associei aopost da Espectacologica, acho que ficava lá bem :) )</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107091237104564780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107091237104564780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107091237104564780' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107085545658620821</id><published>2003-12-08T03:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-12T23:40:40.736Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Florbela Espanca -a 8 de Dezembro de 1894 Florbela nasce em Vila Viçosa-foi baptizada na igreja de Nossa Sra da Conceição em Vila Viçosa, e 8 de Dezembro é o dia dedicado a Nossa Sra da Conceição-a 8 de Dezembro de 1913 Florbela casa pela primeira vez-a 8 de Dezembro de 1930 Florbela suicida-seDevo-lhe um dos lemas que mais tento ter presente:"Só se pode ser feliz simplificando, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107085545658620821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107085545658620821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107085545658620821' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107077035389171001</id><published>2003-12-07T04:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-13T02:20:19.600Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Momento musicalThe Virtuoso - Wilhelm Busch(1865)Guardei as imagens deste post aqui, para aligeirar o abrir do blog</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107077035389171001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107077035389171001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107077035389171001' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107076771249590407</id><published>2003-12-07T03:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-07T03:50:29.256Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Olha que giro! Nunca me tinha sentido tão acompanhada, em noites estupidas como a de hoje, blogar sempre tem lá as suas vantagens, ainda na percebi foi aquela coisa do umbigo...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107076771249590407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107076771249590407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107076771249590407' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107076471245258607</id><published>2003-12-07T02:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-07T03:50:58.100Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Shhhh, Shhhh It's, oh, so quiet It's, oh, so still You're all alone And so peaceful until... You fall in love Zing boom ...........ta ra ra ra ZING BOOM ta ra ra ra tarã....... </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107076471245258607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107076471245258607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107076471245258607' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107074000851377658</id><published>2003-12-06T19:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-06T19:57:27.950Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Por vezes é preciso ter força para não levar a sério as opiniões dos outros.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107074000851377658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107074000851377658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107074000851377658' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107073005194646579</id><published>2003-12-06T17:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-08T03:30:38.963Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Squaredance (clicar para aumentar)America, 1817</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107073005194646579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107073005194646579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107073005194646579' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107063176145985369</id><published>2003-12-05T13:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-06T01:22:19.743Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Dorothy Parker   Dorothy Rotschild Parker(1893-1967)Nasceu a 22Agosto de 1893 no seio de uma família confortávelmente abastada, teve uma excelente educação para a época. Bastante inteligente começou a escrever poemas muito cedo, e foi uma das primeiras feministas.É a mestra do humor amargo. Embora os seus escritos estejam impregnados de reflexões sobre o amor, a tristeza e a solidão, foge </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107063176145985369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107063176145985369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107063176145985369' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107058271953588390</id><published>2003-12-05T00:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-05T01:12:32.403Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Tenho uma visão raio-x que só me atrapalha, é tipo maldição!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107058271953588390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107058271953588390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107058271953588390' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107054119944005019</id><published>2003-12-04T12:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-05T00:01:01.443Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>BOTTICELLI, SandroMystical Nativity, 1501Tempera on canvas, 108,5 x 75 cmNational Gallery, Londonnota:Clikando na imagem vamos direitinhos à imagem na galeria. Passando rato no canto inferior direito da imagem, lá na galeria, tem icon para aumentar. Depois de clikar aí, quem concordar comigo abre a boca e diz: Ah que lindo! :)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107054119944005019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107054119944005019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107054119944005019' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107049745105714454</id><published>2003-12-04T00:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-04T00:24:21.546Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Se uma gaivota viesse trazer-me o céu de Lisboa no desenho que fizesse, nesse céu onde o olhar é uma asa que não voa, esmorece e cai no mar. Que perfeito coração no meu peito bateria, meu amor na tua mão, nessa mão onde cabia perfeito o meu coração. Se um português marinheiro, dos sete mares andarilho, fosse, quem sabe, o primeiro a contar-me o que inventasse, se um olhar de </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107049745105714454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107049745105714454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107049745105714454' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107041366518724028</id><published>2003-12-03T01:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-03T13:19:18.136Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Frase do dia:Errar é humano. Colocar a culpa em alguém, então, nem se falaIsto podia era ser a frase da vida, da minha vida, tenho umas costas muiiiiiiiito largas :)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107041366518724028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107041366518724028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107041366518724028' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107040437041553107</id><published>2003-12-02T22:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-12-02T22:34:06.643Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Acabei com o meu chá de morango da fauchon... e agora ja não há luxos, na há dinheiro na há vícios!Na faz mal... eu até já nem gosto deste chá!... ahahaha</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107040437041553107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107040437041553107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107040437041553107' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-107004556354090860</id><published>2003-11-28T18:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-28T19:01:05.433Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"Continuo a pensar que quando tudo parece sem saída, sempre se pode cantar. Por essa razão escrevo." (Caio Fernando Abreu)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107004556354090860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/107004556354090860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#107004556354090860' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-106998186011709345</id><published>2003-11-28T01:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-28T18:56:08.080Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Então bora lá aqui alegrar o ambiente com umas romãzitas, adoro, que tamem na gosto disto assim tão taciturno, até atrai desgraçêras :)Acho que este natal vou só enfeitar com marrãs... quem não gostar... azar! e tenho dito</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/106998186011709345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/106998186011709345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106998186011709345' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-106997935096143398</id><published>2003-11-28T00:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-28T00:29:19.803Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Este blog está assim um bocadinho com ar de barca velha, só recuerdos, mas tambem é um bocado como eu estou agora... visto isto, não posso fazer nada, fica assim mesmo e pronto</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/106997935096143398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/106997935096143398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106997935096143398' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-106997909902338865</id><published>2003-11-28T00:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-28T00:35:00.770Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hoje, desde que passei à tarde por aqui, e que li o artigo: "Já sei sr professor", fiquei a pensar na minha tia... e nas vezes em que, estando em sua casa, assistia às aulas e brincava com os seus alunos no recreio, passava-se isto no Algarve, bela terra :)Associo de imediato às rodas ao som desta canção:« O mar enrola na areia,ninguém sabe o que lhe diz,enrola na areia, desmaia,porque se </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/106997909902338865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/106997909902338865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106997909902338865' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-106994365452983621</id><published>2003-11-27T14:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-27T23:51:12.723Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Mais um ano a chegar ao fim... se calhar é o pior ano da minha vida, duvido que venha outro pior. Eu que dizia que as depressões eram para os outros, que não tinha tempo pra isso, levei com uma encima após um período de trabalho desgraçado numa empresa de que fazia parte, e para nada... foi decidida falencia há poucos dias, tenho a casa hipotecada à conta desse assunto, será uma questão de tempo</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/106994365452983621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/106994365452983621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106994365452983621' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-106987177949706283</id><published>2003-11-26T18:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-27T11:34:55.023Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>photo de Ricardo Alves(...)Há quem se canse de percorrer as estradas intermináveis e lisas desse latifúndio sem relevos. Há quem adormeça de tédio a olhar a uniformidade da sua paisagem, que no inverno se veste dum pelico castanho, e no verão duma croça madura. Que é parda mesmo quando o trigo desponta, e loura mesmo quando o ceifaram. Queixam-se da melancolia dos estevais negros e peganhosos, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/106987177949706283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/106987177949706283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106987177949706283' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6133458.post-106986318533447227</id><published>2003-11-26T16:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2003-11-27T09:49:28.213Z</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>photo de Tony Andersonpodia ser a Jeca... lembra croassantsA avó: "filha... não podes ser tão vaidosa, as meninas lindas são meninas simples"Jeca (com 3 anos, murmurando de cabeça baixa e em tom rezingão): "simples são os cu rá ssans!"</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/106986318533447227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6133458/posts/default/106986318533447227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://prs1.blogspot.com/2003_11_01_archive.html#106986318533447227' title=''/><author><name>ana</name><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></entry></feed>
