<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rdf:RDF xmlns="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#"><channel rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/BlogRss.aspx/RichieRich10"><title>The Deed - Blogit</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RichieRich10/</link><description>A mysterious Deed and the aftermath of succulents in rural America. </description><sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod><sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency><sy:updateBase>2000-01-01T12:00+00:00</sy:updateBase><items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RichieRich10/953505" /></rdf:Seq></items></channel><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RichieRich10/953505"><title>The Deed Short Story</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/RichieRich10/953505</link><description>The Deed By: Richard C. Metcalfe The winds whipped up the dirt— it swirled in the fields; the same winds that left the dark to be dark and the light to be light—while carrying on through just that the dark and the light; down the road; coolness grew up against the solid elements, and a man in a...</description></item></rdf:RDF>