<?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-7392583513906529650</id><updated>2011-08-25T10:47:17.517-05:00</updated><category term='flowers'/><category term='Spring'/><title type='text'>My Life in Pictures</title><subtitle type='html'>A creative outlet, a place to reclaim some of my sanity. An opportunity to show off.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>GeneH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04452206621314724040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/S6uGmQTwk1I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Kl9LKAGZXnA/s1600-R/AIbEiAIAAABECN2V0Nab3Y_W-AEiC3ZjYXJkX3Bob3RvKig5ZTc5NGE5MjE5OWNhMTc5NTllODhiMGI4MDc0YjU0ZWY4NDVjNmViMAGJsvitynRPKfiDoWEp9kXLfB63AQ'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7392583513906529650.post-166434427155759762</id><published>2011-01-23T20:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T20:34:23.922-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm still alive (why I even write)</title><content type='html'>I know, its been quite a while since I have written anything here. It is not because I have nothing to say or that I do not feel like writing. On the contrary I write nearly every day. It has been a means of escape for me for more than a few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to keep a journal at the suggestion of the family pastor when I was age fourteen. I found myself visiting him once a week, for the lack of any other means of "therapy" for a young man going through the harrowing trials of adolescence. On the evening before I would meet with the pastor at the church I would spend around thirty minutes or so catching up on the events of the week. I hated doing it. It felt like home work. And not even homework I "had" to do. There were no grades to be had, no benefit I could see from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each week I would write in this notebook he gave me, and I never failed to bring it with me when I would visit with him. After a month of doing this it dawned on me that he never once asked to look at this book. Never even asked me to read from it. He would simply ask if I had done any writing this week or not. Still, I would perform this seemingly pointless exercise for another month before I finally asked him what the reason behind it was. Why was he not interested in what I had to say in my notebook each week? Why bother to ask me to do this? His answer was simple. "What you write in that journal is none of my business unless you choose to share it with me." I must have looked as confused as I had felt right then because he proceeded to explain to me that the writing exercise was simply a means for me to focus on something other than those issues I felt were worth worrying about each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that evening I had started to read through some of the pages I had filled over the last two months and I began to see a pattern. Nearly everything I wrote was negative. I wrote in this book not to remember the things I felt were wrong in life, but to forget about them and it worked. Suddenly it made a lot of sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only went back to visit the pastor two more times. To this day I can not remember his name or much of anything else about him except the fact that he had a stutter and that he showed me that writing was a great way to escape each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I write for pleasure, to remember, to understand. To share with anyone willing to read it long after I have gone, since there is only a little I am willing to share at the moment. I write to escape, and to organize my thoughts. Every so often I contradict what I had written previously. I ask myself the same questions I have answered so many times before. And every so often the answers are different. This simply shows that I am growing. Maybe even learning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;I may not be great at writing, I know my talents can be found in other areas, but I still love to do it and I see no reason to stop. Maybe someday I will even decide to share some of it with the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7392583513906529650-166434427155759762?l=genehyatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/feeds/166434427155759762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7392583513906529650&amp;postID=166434427155759762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/166434427155759762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/166434427155759762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/2011/01/im-still-alive-why-i-even-write.html' title='I&apos;m still alive (why I even write)'/><author><name>GeneH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04452206621314724040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/S6uGmQTwk1I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Kl9LKAGZXnA/s1600-R/AIbEiAIAAABECN2V0Nab3Y_W-AEiC3ZjYXJkX3Bob3RvKig5ZTc5NGE5MjE5OWNhMTc5NTllODhiMGI4MDc0YjU0ZWY4NDVjNmViMAGJsvitynRPKfiDoWEp9kXLfB63AQ'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7392583513906529650.post-6488406855404414789</id><published>2010-10-07T11:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T11:13:43.531-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where all my zombies at?</title><content type='html'>October has to be one of the greatest months in the Gregorian calendar. There is something for everyone, Oktoberfest, the fall foliage, post season MLB, haunted hay rides with warm apple cider and Captian Morgan, and of course plenty of new horror flicks hitting the big screen. Whether your taste is for vampires, serial killers or zombies, Hollywood is ready (and willing) to scare the pants off of us all for a price and this years menu looks like it will have something on it for almost everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what if it dosen't? I couldn't help but notice a lack of new zombie films in the theatre this season but don't fret, good old television is stepping up and filling in the gap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On October 31st AMC will broadcast the 90 minute premier of its new 6 part series "Walking Dead" based on the comic book series of the same name by Robert Kirkman as part of its annual Fearfest. It follows the story of police officer Rick Grimes who wakes in the hospital (ala "28 Days") after a near fatal gunshot wound only to find out there has been a zombie apocalypse. After meeting up with a group of survivors he attempts to lead them all to find a safe haven from the zombie threat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out the trailer below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yg46DWI_fCE?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yg46DWI_fCE?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you AMC for giving us Horror Comic fans something this Halloween.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7392583513906529650-6488406855404414789?l=genehyatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/feeds/6488406855404414789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7392583513906529650&amp;postID=6488406855404414789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/6488406855404414789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/6488406855404414789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/2010/10/where-all-my-zombies-at.html' title='Where all my zombies at?'/><author><name>GeneH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04452206621314724040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/S6uGmQTwk1I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Kl9LKAGZXnA/s1600-R/AIbEiAIAAABECN2V0Nab3Y_W-AEiC3ZjYXJkX3Bob3RvKig5ZTc5NGE5MjE5OWNhMTc5NTllODhiMGI4MDc0YjU0ZWY4NDVjNmViMAGJsvitynRPKfiDoWEp9kXLfB63AQ'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7392583513906529650.post-1628229076748697282</id><published>2010-05-30T13:45:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T15:08:30.387-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Memorial day in Lenox</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/TAK-5VGsTaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/m_M5Rmo_Pmc/s1600/00076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/TAK-5VGsTaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/m_M5Rmo_Pmc/s200/00076.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477149988962979234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;  Over the last two weeks or so there have been sculptures popping up all around the main street area here in Lenox MA. It's not exactly anything new when you live in a town as broadly cultured as this one. Lenox often tries to showcase sculptures in the parks and on the lawns of local business each summer. This Memorial weekend Lenox kicks off the summer with its tenth annual Lenox Art Walk. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  Artist Andrew DeVries has a total of twenty five bronze sculptures placed along the art walk route. Each of the pieces center around the human form any many of them are of dancers caught in some of the most graceful of poses such as "Pleiades" on the right here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; I enjoyed photographing these sculptures and you can see all of them &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/berkshiredigitalphoto/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. If you want to see these in person they will be on display in Lenox Massachusetts until November of 2010.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Innocence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/TALCQH2R_-I/AAAAAAAAAHI/vNpwM9OK09o/s1600/00024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/TALCQH2R_-I/AAAAAAAAAHI/vNpwM9OK09o/s200/00024.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477153679076360162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7392583513906529650-1628229076748697282?l=genehyatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/feeds/1628229076748697282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7392583513906529650&amp;postID=1628229076748697282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/1628229076748697282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/1628229076748697282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/2010/05/memorial-day-in-lenox.html' title='Memorial day in Lenox'/><author><name>GeneH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04452206621314724040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/S6uGmQTwk1I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Kl9LKAGZXnA/s1600-R/AIbEiAIAAABECN2V0Nab3Y_W-AEiC3ZjYXJkX3Bob3RvKig5ZTc5NGE5MjE5OWNhMTc5NTllODhiMGI4MDc0YjU0ZWY4NDVjNmViMAGJsvitynRPKfiDoWEp9kXLfB63AQ'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/TAK-5VGsTaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/m_M5Rmo_Pmc/s72-c/00076.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7392583513906529650.post-7725261218186625956</id><published>2010-03-24T20:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T22:52:07.854-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you have a reason?</title><content type='html'>All right, I'm going to be honest here. Three months ago I wrote that I was going to be the one person you knew who would set goals for themselves and stick to them this year. Within moments of hitting publish I thought to myself "Yeah right!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, surprise! Even though I have not written anything since then, I have had plenty to write about, just not the time to do it. A lot has happened and now its time to catch up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;January was a rather quiet month for me. My New Years eve started out with quite a surprise and became one of the most memorable in years. It then proceeded to normalize and turned out to be just like any other winter night for me and I'm just fine with that. Disappointed it could not continue but such is life. The rest of the month very little happened in my life that is worth mentioning. Highlight? My mother turned a year older. That's pretty much it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In February it all began. I had begun to feel the stress of trying to be a father figure to children that did not want me to be. They wanted me to be their friend and nothing more. My girlfriend (now ex) tried to understand and even tried to work on it with them but I just couldn't see the changes. I do know they tried but by then I think so much had happened it just didn't matter to me any longer. I then decided I needed to move on and one week after Valentines day I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I packed my bags, grabbed some of my books told my girlfriend I needed this and left on a Thursday morning. For the first time in my life I decided to go with my gut feeling and jump. That same evening my best friend and I met for dinner at one of our favorite watering holes. There on the bulletin board was a flyer for an apartment not more than a block away. I called the number, met with my potential room mate and moved in less than a week later. I couldn't help but think that this was going to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have moved in to my new apartment I have started to learn a lot about myself. I can be on my own and live by myself. Loneliness can be dealt with (It's not easy but I am working on that). I can manage my money when I have too, I have a few good friends and two great friends I can not live without. I do not need cable television, I still know how to have fun and be responsible (most of the time). And I can make things go in the direction I want them too. I am no longer afraid of change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently asked my best friend if they were the type of person who needed a push when they were close to a goal but not quite there. I got a resounding no and then felt a little embarrassed that even I asked. I should have known better. I had always thought that I was one of those who needed that push though. But after thinking about it more, I realized that it wasn't a push that I needed, it was a reason. A reason to take the first step in fulfilling my own dreams, a reason to grow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A reason.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What reason could I possibly have had to leave a comfortable home when I had no solid plan as to where I was going?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was no longer happy where I was, traveling day to day on cruise control. When I got home I put my nose in a book. I felt alone even though I was surrounded. I wanted more and I was told I was selfish for feeling that way. My reason for moving on was simple. I somehow lost myself and I needed to figure out who I was. I needed to become whole. I felt, until I did there was no way I could feel happy. It was not for anyone but myself. I wasn't being selfish. Staying in the warm "comfortable" situation I was in, that would have been selfish. Moving on was difficult for all involved I know that and I apologize. But in the end it is far better that I did. Misery loves company and eventually those around me would have joined me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;During my pursuit for happiness I have learned whom I can trust and whom I can rely on. From an acquaintance at the local tavern who offered me a room when I had no place to live, to one of my best friends who bought me groceries one night just to help me out, and the coworker who let me borrow some extra cash so I could pay my first months rent. I thank you all. Your good karma will not go unanswered. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course this is just a stepping stone for me. I still have more to do in order to be where I want to. I still have a lot to learn about living on my own and I have a long way to go towards repairing my relationship with my teenage daughter. Still more challenges lay ahead but I am ready for them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess if there is any one thing to take away from this post it is this, "Change is not something to fear, and no matter what your reason for it might be, you are not likely being selfish."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Remember to dream big everyone, and more importantly, chase those dreams.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7392583513906529650-7725261218186625956?l=genehyatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/feeds/7725261218186625956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7392583513906529650&amp;postID=7725261218186625956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/7725261218186625956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/7725261218186625956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/2010/03/blog-post.html' title='Do you have a reason?'/><author><name>GeneH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04452206621314724040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/S6uGmQTwk1I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Kl9LKAGZXnA/s1600-R/AIbEiAIAAABECN2V0Nab3Y_W-AEiC3ZjYXJkX3Bob3RvKig5ZTc5NGE5MjE5OWNhMTc5NTllODhiMGI4MDc0YjU0ZWY4NDVjNmViMAGJsvitynRPKfiDoWEp9kXLfB63AQ'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7392583513906529650.post-3211170264337042921</id><published>2009-12-29T10:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T11:10:54.743-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This moment counts</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;  As the year comes to a close many people tend to reflect upon the past twelve months of their life and take inventory of accomplishments, failures or changes in general. Most will come up with some new years resolution, some will follow through and others will not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  For me the process of this started early. I woke up one morning about two months ago with the oddest feeling of being lost and very small, insignificant even. Not the typical depression I tend to feel around the holidays but a much calmer, more comfortable loneliness. After a week or two of letting the depression stir, I decided that it was enough. I am through feeling sorry for myself. I have spent the last two years grieving for a failed marriage, the rift this caused between my teenage daughter and I, and a run of bad luck. I needed time to heal, and I took it. It is time to move on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; So now what? What am I to do with this new feeling of self worth? Let it go unanswered and continue on in the same manner as always? Or use the momentum of the moment to "Dream big" and do the things I have always wanted to do but never had the chance? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; I say I never had the chance to do any of the big things I have wanted to do. That's not entirely true. The truth is, I have always been this guy who goes with the flow. Seldom taking risks, never making the big decisions for myself, always relying on others to point me in the right direction. Even though this has generally put me in a good place it has never gotten me closer to any of my dreams. It has kept me in a safe place. Leaving me to feel content where I am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  From now on I will be proactive. Not only will I dream big, but I will go after those dreams. I will make the year ahead a good one. And I will do what it takes to make it so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7392583513906529650-3211170264337042921?l=genehyatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/feeds/3211170264337042921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7392583513906529650&amp;postID=3211170264337042921' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/3211170264337042921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/3211170264337042921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/2009/12/this-moment-counts.html' title='This moment counts'/><author><name>GeneH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04452206621314724040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/S6uGmQTwk1I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Kl9LKAGZXnA/s1600-R/AIbEiAIAAABECN2V0Nab3Y_W-AEiC3ZjYXJkX3Bob3RvKig5ZTc5NGE5MjE5OWNhMTc5NTllODhiMGI4MDc0YjU0ZWY4NDVjNmViMAGJsvitynRPKfiDoWEp9kXLfB63AQ'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7392583513906529650.post-5153995222830494963</id><published>2009-12-14T10:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T10:41:20.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday traditions</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Everyone has traditions, those things they enjoy doing during the holidays. One thing I have always looked forward to in the last weeks leading up to Christmas is movies. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love relaxing on the couch with the tree lit, egg nog in hand (spiked of course), snuggling up next to someone I care about under a blanket and watching a movie. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course for me it seldom works out exactly like that but there has always been some sort of resemblance to it. Here is a list of some of my favorite movies for the season. In no particular order.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;White Christmas&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Miracle on 34th st&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Bishops Wife&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Santa Clause&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A Christmas Carol (Albert Finney)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A Muppet Christmas Carol&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Nightmare Before Christmas&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A Christmas Story&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It's A Wonderful Life&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have left out the television specials because I feel they should have their own list.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This year so far, I have only been able to watch one of these since something always seems to come up. But I still have nearly two weeks. I'll be happy if I get just one more of these in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7392583513906529650-5153995222830494963?l=genehyatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/feeds/5153995222830494963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7392583513906529650&amp;postID=5153995222830494963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/5153995222830494963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/5153995222830494963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/2009/12/holiday-traditions.html' title='Holiday traditions'/><author><name>GeneH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04452206621314724040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/S6uGmQTwk1I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Kl9LKAGZXnA/s1600-R/AIbEiAIAAABECN2V0Nab3Y_W-AEiC3ZjYXJkX3Bob3RvKig5ZTc5NGE5MjE5OWNhMTc5NTllODhiMGI4MDc0YjU0ZWY4NDVjNmViMAGJsvitynRPKfiDoWEp9kXLfB63AQ'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7392583513906529650.post-6333191992912824718</id><published>2009-05-27T13:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T13:17:04.211-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Has it really been that long?</title><content type='html'>For as long as I can remember I have been writing in a journal. In high school it was more likely to be about a dream I had or even lyrics for a song I wanted to write. The dreams were generally rather horrible. Often times dealing with death, rejection or  centred around my running from something that I never quite saw. I wrote something everyday. Even if it was just a sentence or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through the years I found myself writing less often, and when I did it was reserved for those times I was angry or hurt. Looking through the posts I had here I realized that nearly every one of them was rather negative, and no one wants to read that. I know I did not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am. Back after nearly two years. I have deleted many of the posts here and kept only ones that have any type of meaning to me. And I am sure after reading the ones left, I may end up deleting them as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7392583513906529650-6333191992912824718?l=genehyatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/feeds/6333191992912824718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7392583513906529650&amp;postID=6333191992912824718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/6333191992912824718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/6333191992912824718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/2009/05/has-it-really-been-that-long.html' title='Has it really been that long?'/><author><name>GeneH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04452206621314724040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/S6uGmQTwk1I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Kl9LKAGZXnA/s1600-R/AIbEiAIAAABECN2V0Nab3Y_W-AEiC3ZjYXJkX3Bob3RvKig5ZTc5NGE5MjE5OWNhMTc5NTllODhiMGI4MDc0YjU0ZWY4NDVjNmViMAGJsvitynRPKfiDoWEp9kXLfB63AQ'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7392583513906529650.post-3468321227585043039</id><published>2007-03-29T12:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T12:37:42.725-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Huh</title><content type='html'>I have at least a hundred different subjects I would love to write about but I have no idea where to start today. So I will simply leave you with this today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Huh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7392583513906529650-3468321227585043039?l=genehyatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/feeds/3468321227585043039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7392583513906529650&amp;postID=3468321227585043039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/3468321227585043039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/3468321227585043039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/2007/03/huh.html' title='Huh'/><author><name>GeneH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04452206621314724040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/S6uGmQTwk1I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Kl9LKAGZXnA/s1600-R/AIbEiAIAAABECN2V0Nab3Y_W-AEiC3ZjYXJkX3Bob3RvKig5ZTc5NGE5MjE5OWNhMTc5NTllODhiMGI4MDc0YjU0ZWY4NDVjNmViMAGJsvitynRPKfiDoWEp9kXLfB63AQ'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7392583513906529650.post-876592389701103973</id><published>2007-03-28T09:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T09:58:56.802-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spring'/><title type='text'>Its spring!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/RgqlimnHMII/AAAAAAAAABI/dnpGzt3X-2o/s1600-h/00001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/RgqlimnHMII/AAAAAAAAABI/dnpGzt3X-2o/s200/00001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047028346320793730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew it! Spring is here. You can not deny it any longer. I saw a Red Winged black bird on my way in to the office this morning. Of course I did not have my camera with me. When I got to the office I first walked over to the post office and saw some house finches hanging around with some house sparrows. And according to www.hummingbirds.net the Ruby-Throated humming bird migration is halfway up the coast. Time to get the feeders out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's something about Brazilian music that I enjoy this time of year. Its relaxing, romantic and just helps me take it easy. I can not wait till its nice enough to relax on the deck and listen to music in the sun. Its getting close.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7392583513906529650-876592389701103973?l=genehyatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/feeds/876592389701103973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7392583513906529650&amp;postID=876592389701103973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/876592389701103973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/876592389701103973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/2007/03/its-spring.html' title='Its spring!'/><author><name>GeneH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04452206621314724040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/S6uGmQTwk1I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Kl9LKAGZXnA/s1600-R/AIbEiAIAAABECN2V0Nab3Y_W-AEiC3ZjYXJkX3Bob3RvKig5ZTc5NGE5MjE5OWNhMTc5NTllODhiMGI4MDc0YjU0ZWY4NDVjNmViMAGJsvitynRPKfiDoWEp9kXLfB63AQ'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/RgqlimnHMII/AAAAAAAAABI/dnpGzt3X-2o/s72-c/00001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7392583513906529650.post-4264376102469092329</id><published>2007-03-27T07:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T10:12:48.667-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I was a Sidekick</title><content type='html'>You read that right. I hate to admit it but when I was a kid I was a sidekick to my best friend. I was also the comic relief, and the class clown. For some reason I always seemed to be the one who was tossed up onto the roof to get the ball, Frisbee or what ever ended up in the wrong yard. I was the one who almost always got hurt when a good idea went wrong. I spent so much time in the Principal's office trying to get out of detention because I interrupted the class that I became great friends with both him and his staff. I loved the attention. I thrived on it. It became an escape for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend then was named Kevin. He was the brawn I was the brain. He wasn't exactly stupid, he just spent more time practicing his guitar then I did reading books. Believe me all the practice was worth it. He ended up being one of the greatest guitar players I had ever heard, locally at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I was the clown Kevin had more than his fair share of moments. He always used the word 'good' when someone asked him how he was doing. We had this one teacher who would always correct him and say "don't you mean well?". His reply was always "No, that's a hole in the ground. I'm not doing that." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the seventh grade we were given instructions to do a project on a Greek myth of our choosing. The due date was here and every one of our class mates presented there reports, each with a visual prepared. There were diorama's, plaster of paris statues, mobiles and all sorts of fantastic posters showing charts, time lines etc. Kevin did his report on the Helen of Troy. He went to the front of the room with a stack of papers which his report was written on. He taped an 8x10 sheet of paper to the black board and drawn on it, in pen, was an illustration of the Trojan horse. In front of and beneath that was a stick figure with an expression of surprise on his face. A question mark drawn above his head to enforce the surprise. That was it. Nothing to explain it, just the horse and a man "for scale" as it were. I laughed so hard I had to be sent to out into the hall. From that day on all any one ever had to do was make the "Oh No!" face and it was enough to make me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We both got into trouble for that episode and I had nothing to do with it. My report actually had much more effort put into it. I got a passing grade. Barley. But I always seemed to get into trouble when he did. We were together all the time so it just stood to reason I had something to do with what ever he did. Damn we had a lot of fun. Our summers were one great adventure after another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got into High school I was no longer the side kick. We went to a separate schools and Kevin fell in with a different group of kids. Me? I just blended in with all the other nobodies. I was no longer the class clown. I went to school, did my thing and stayed out of trouble. And I was okay with that too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7392583513906529650-4264376102469092329?l=genehyatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/feeds/4264376102469092329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7392583513906529650&amp;postID=4264376102469092329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/4264376102469092329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/4264376102469092329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-was-sidekick.html' title='I was a Sidekick'/><author><name>GeneH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04452206621314724040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/S6uGmQTwk1I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Kl9LKAGZXnA/s1600-R/AIbEiAIAAABECN2V0Nab3Y_W-AEiC3ZjYXJkX3Bob3RvKig5ZTc5NGE5MjE5OWNhMTc5NTllODhiMGI4MDc0YjU0ZWY4NDVjNmViMAGJsvitynRPKfiDoWEp9kXLfB63AQ'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7392583513906529650.post-6262150466650959023</id><published>2007-03-23T08:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-23T10:18:17.548-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spring'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flowers'/><title type='text'>Great time of year, as long as you don't mind the mud.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/berkshiredigitalphoto/337720767/" title="Photo Sharing"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/139/337720767_690460eec0_m.jpg" width="240" height="160" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Theres something about spring that makes everything so happy. Some of the song birds have been back for a little while and the ones who are late will be here within the next few weeks. Even the skunks have been up for a week or two. I know it's a season of change, one that people seem to relate with a new beginning. Easter is in the spring, that was an ending the way I look at it. The snow is gone, there's another one. But none of that matters. We open our windows, shake off the dust of winter and get ready to embrace the sun, and warm weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not immune to the powers of spring either. I feel more creative, and I have much more energy (I swear I have S.A.D sometimes). My aspirations grow to new heights. I never want to be inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself wanting to start up my Jeep, take off the top and just go cruising. This year I have a lot of work to do before that happens though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even my music changes with the seasons. You'll notice that as I go through my writings. For instance I was listening to Incubus this morning. I haven't listened to them in nearly two years now. That was before they were even really popular. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been looking forward to this Spring more than any other in as long as I can remember. I started birding last fall and now that the song birds are back I have been enjoying it. But its not just about watching them. In fact that is not even the part I enjoy the most. I love taking pictures of them. I want to photograph as many different species as I can. I love doing it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off on holiday in an hour or two and I will be back with lots to talk about I am sure. Maybe I will get into dreams. Its been a long time since I have done that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a good time of year for all here in New England, as long as you don't mind the mud. &lt;br /&gt;Its a good time of year for all here in New England, as long as you don't mind the mud.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7392583513906529650-6262150466650959023?l=genehyatt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/feeds/6262150466650959023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7392583513906529650&amp;postID=6262150466650959023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/6262150466650959023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7392583513906529650/posts/default/6262150466650959023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://genehyatt.blogspot.com/2007/03/great-time-of-year-as-long-as-you-dont.html' title='Great time of year, as long as you don&apos;t mind the mud.'/><author><name>GeneH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04452206621314724040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_04zgW8FWhPQ/S6uGmQTwk1I/AAAAAAAAAGg/Kl9LKAGZXnA/s1600-R/AIbEiAIAAABECN2V0Nab3Y_W-AEiC3ZjYXJkX3Bob3RvKig5ZTc5NGE5MjE5OWNhMTc5NTllODhiMGI4MDc0YjU0ZWY4NDVjNmViMAGJsvitynRPKfiDoWEp9kXLfB63AQ'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/139/337720767_690460eec0_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
