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	<title>Paper Thin Theme by Sizzle Designs</title>
	<link>http://paperthin.themes.sizzle-designs.com</link>
	<description>Just another Sizzle Designs weblog</description>
	<lastBuildDate>Sat, 20 Dec 2008 02:50:24 +0000</lastBuildDate>
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	<item>
		<title>Hello world!</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Welcome to Sizzle Designs. This is our first post.
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		<link>http://paperthin.themes.sizzle-designs.com/2008/10/26/hello-world-2/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Post 1</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow, fringed with alders and ladies&#8217; eardrops and traversed by a brook that had its source away back in the woods of the old Cuthbert place; it was reputed to be an intricate, headlong brook in its earlier course through [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://paperthin.themes.sizzle-designs.com/2008/10/26/post-1/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Post Two</title>
		<description><![CDATA[She was sitting there one afternoon in early June. The sun was coming in at the window warm and bright; the orchard on the slope below the house was in a bridal flush of pinky-white bloom, hummed over by a myriad of bees. Thomas Lynde—a meek little man whom Avonlea people called &#8220;Rachel Lynde&#8217;s husband&#8221;—was [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://paperthin.themes.sizzle-designs.com/2008/10/25/post-two/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Post Three</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Accordingly after tea Mrs. Rachel set out; she had not far to go; the big, rambling, orchard-embowered house where the Cuthberts lived was a scant quarter of a mile up the road from Lynde&#8217;s Hollow. To be sure, the long lane made it a good deal further. Matthew Cuthbert&#8217;s father, as shy and silent as [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://paperthin.themes.sizzle-designs.com/2008/10/02/post-three/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Post Four</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Mrs. Rachel, before she had fairly closed the door, had taken a mental note of everything that was on that table. There were three plates laid, so that Marilla must be expecting some one home with Matthew to tea; but the dishes were everyday dishes and there was only crab-apple preserves and one kind of [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://paperthin.themes.sizzle-designs.com/2008/09/06/post-four/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Post Five</title>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;Are you in earnest, Marilla?&#8221; she demanded when voice returned to her.
&#8220;Yes, of course,&#8221; said Marilla, as if getting boys from orphan asylums in Nova Scotia were part of the usual spring work on any well-regulated Avonlea farm instead of being an unheard of innovation.
Mrs. Rachel felt that she had received a severe mental jolt. [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://paperthin.themes.sizzle-designs.com/2008/09/05/post-five/</link>
			</item>
	<item>
		<title>Post Six</title>
		<description><![CDATA[This Job&#8217;s comforting seemed neither to offend nor to alarm Marilla. She knitted steadily on.
&#8220;I don&#8217;t deny there&#8217;s something in what you say, Rachel. I&#8217;ve had some qualms myself. But Matthew was terrible set on it. I could see that, so I gave in. It&#8217;s so seldom Matthew sets his mind on anything that when [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://paperthin.themes.sizzle-designs.com/2008/09/01/post-six/</link>
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		<title>Post Eight</title>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;The five-thirty train has been in and gone half an hour ago,&#8221; answered that brisk official. &#8220;But there was a passenger dropped off for you—a little girl. She&#8217;s sitting out there on the shingles. I asked her to go into the ladies&#8217; waiting room, but she informed me gravely that she preferred to stay outside. [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://paperthin.themes.sizzle-designs.com/2008/08/06/post-eight/</link>
			</item>
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		<title>Post Seven</title>
		<description><![CDATA[Matthew Cuthbert and the sorrel mare jogged comfortably over the eight miles to Bright River. It was a pretty road, running along between snug farmsteads, with now and again a bit of balsamy fir wood to drive through or a hollow where wild plums hung out their filmy bloom. The air was sweet with the [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://paperthin.themes.sizzle-designs.com/2008/08/06/post-seven/</link>
			</item>
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		<title>Post Ten</title>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;Oh, I can carry it,&#8221; the child responded cheerfully. &#8220;It isn&#8217;t heavy. I&#8217;ve got all my worldly goods in it, but it isn&#8217;t heavy. And if it isn&#8217;t carried in just a certain way the handle pulls out—so I&#8217;d better keep it because I know the exact knack of it. It&#8217;s an extremely old carpet-bag. [...]]]></description>
		<link>http://paperthin.themes.sizzle-designs.com/2008/08/01/post-ten/</link>
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