tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1956016678407855622024-03-13T03:15:18.670+02:00Walking The Sunny Side Of The Street"Fair winds and following seas, ma'am"Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.comBlogger180125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-926433841744410512015-06-22T22:01:00.001+02:002015-06-22T22:02:52.083+02:00The Moomin's wisdom<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"<i>But that’s how it is when you start wanting to have things. Now, I just look at them, and when I go away I carry them in my head. Then my hands are always free, because I don’t have to carry a suitcase." </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Snufkin "Comet in Moominland"</span></div>
Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-54782486635303541142012-09-12T00:15:00.001+03:002012-09-12T00:15:09.447+03:00HonestyI am lucky to experience some of it. Honesty is rare, indeed.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/fed8-0tjcQ0?fs=1" width="459"></iframe>Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-68371447081056239302012-08-27T22:54:00.000+03:002012-08-27T23:15:29.421+03:0010 things I’ve learnt since I moved to Finland<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1)<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;">Love for
husband is stronger day by day.<br />2)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>I can live colourful life even in super boring Finland.<br />3)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Discovering
a new country keeps me sane.<br />4)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Learning a new language keeps mind sharp.<br />5)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>To stay away from sausage sauce.<br />6)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>I’m very much addicted to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eruca_sativa">rocket/ rucola.</a><br />7)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>To cook properly and can make 31
delicious dishes without setting the kitchen on fire.<br />8)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Friends
are an illusion. They fled the moment I moved.<br />9)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Loneliness is tough. I am extremely frustrated
at times.<br />10)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Frank
Sinatra and Elvis Presley are the best at fighting back the blues.
</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
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Inspired by Being Brazen's <a href="http://www.beingbrazen.com/search/label/10%20Things">10 Things</a> Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-87982611041071479982012-02-20T01:02:00.000+03:002012-02-20T01:02:00.346+03:00Valentine's card<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZZLnHF-3TSJDyupSyrAuCNJDr7DSmJgO7H4Z0MiUbPvVUdkjLymufO28iVp7ywKPKmTmuLoKJw1HNJc6UctveHCbeypTd7zCyebuGVcDAOCdDpKnSdYKG5zy2JDdJ0S5SruJ_YYHAuhA/s1600/20101207_chocolate.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZZLnHF-3TSJDyupSyrAuCNJDr7DSmJgO7H4Z0MiUbPvVUdkjLymufO28iVp7ywKPKmTmuLoKJw1HNJc6UctveHCbeypTd7zCyebuGVcDAOCdDpKnSdYKG5zy2JDdJ0S5SruJ_YYHAuhA/s320/20101207_chocolate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5710234666819239394" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Forget love - I'd rather fall in chocolate!"</span><br />Sandra J. DykesSunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-40702880350442447232012-02-15T22:48:00.000+03:002012-02-15T22:48:00.531+03:00The clumsy on the hill<span style="font-style: italic;">From my 2009 diary</span>.<br /><br />Early morning. I put on my brand-new skiing suit, pulled on ugly rigit skiing boots, loaded myself up with skis and poles, climbed into a tiny overcrowded bus and drove to the Elbrus area.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXgFlxoctEOy5asM7JmLU_rDgYC-_GnqcRo1QwewMkqHQWyfyOnaeAhyphenhyphenVDBoZ0iU_UvW01x-X5QOwMCAbGAUYr5YjmJhy9sC4oSzsuF10ciDaKdbYXrZCAAQeVF5F_KL0WZHF77s2IJT0/s1600/Scared_Woman_Skiing_clipart_image.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 228px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXgFlxoctEOy5asM7JmLU_rDgYC-_GnqcRo1QwewMkqHQWyfyOnaeAhyphenhyphenVDBoZ0iU_UvW01x-X5QOwMCAbGAUYr5YjmJhy9sC4oSzsuF10ciDaKdbYXrZCAAQeVF5F_KL0WZHF77s2IJT0/s320/Scared_Woman_Skiing_clipart_image.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699063452325323154" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"></span><br />There an instructor took my group of newbies to a very small hill for beginners. He lined us at the foot of the hill and explained how to put on skis. That was a fun bit, because to lock a boot to a ski one had to insert the boot toe into the binding, then stamp the heel abruptly for the latch to snap the boot. Piece of cake! But the snow was so fluffy that the moment I stamped the heel the ski buried in the snow. I tried it a few times in vain and then decided to snap the latch with hands. I bent forward the latch, lost balance and collapsed in snow. Laughing came from other guys. Fortunatelly, I wasn’t the only one, who had such a cool idea.<br /><br />As soon as everybody was ready, the instructor showed how to climb up the hill. Walking up the slope in the skis crosswise was easy on the one hand; and difficult on the other, as the boots were extremely heavy and not flexible. Somewhere in the middle of the slope we stopped and learnt the basic way of skiing called “to plough”. I did my best to ski down as slow as possible and kept weight between the skis all the time. Then we learnt how to turn and slow down. In an hour I felt like a pro!<br /><br />I went to the top of the hill. From up there the hill seemed to be as high as the Everest and I was not as self-assured as at the bottom of it. Anyhow I collected my thoughts, stood in the plough, pushed aside with the poles and moved ahead smoothly. I thrusted my left shoulder, left knee and left ski slighly forward, they were followed by right shoulder, right knee and right ski. It was a perfect turn, when the skis suddenly accelerated. I failed to slow down, panicked and screaming AAAAAAAAAAA! at the top of my voice rocketed down the slope.<br /><br />There were other biginners at the foot of the hill standing in a lovely semicircle. They were so busy with attaching their skis that could neither hear me yelling nor see me moving at the speed of lightning. I just had to do something to avoid a hit-and-run accident. When my feverish mind recovered, I knew what to do… I fell. At my speed it was an almost suicidal decision. I flew a few metres before sprawling right at the feet of the semicircle. Embarrassing! Some beginners freaked out and lost their balance; the others helped me to my feet. Thanks, guys! Nice suits!<br /><br />I was really grateful to them, soft snow and the God for the happy landing. It may never have happened.<br /><br />I went aside, caught my breath, looked at the top of the hill doubtfully and started climbing up…Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-25749793725491346242012-02-02T23:36:00.001+03:002012-02-02T23:36:30.950+03:00Heaven and HellA good man one day found himself in conversation with God and so he asked Him:<p>My Lord, I'd like to know what is Heaven and what is Hell.<p>God led the man towards two doors, opened one and asked the good man to look inside. There was an enormous round table, in the middle of which was a massive bowl filled with food that smelled delicious. The good man felt his mouth water. The people sat around that table looked malnourished and ill. They all looked famished. They had spoons with very. very long handles attached to their arms, but since the spoon handle was longer than their own arms they couldn't bring the food to their mouth. The good man shook at the sight of their misery<p>God said: "You have just seen Hell".<p>God and the good man then went to the second door. God opened it. The scene that the good man saw was identical to the previous one. There was the same vast round table, the same large bowl that made his mouth water. The people sat around the table held the same spoons with the very long handles.Only this time they all looked well nourished, happy and were engaged in pleasant conversations with one another.<p>The good man said to God: "I don't understand"<br>"It's simple", God answered him, "These have learned to take nourishment from one another. The other ones, instead, only think of themselves.<p>Hell and Heaven are built in the same way. The difference lies within us".Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-73932750732285852342012-02-01T00:39:00.000+03:002012-02-17T13:01:05.624+03:00Stabbed Skies and a Spell<span style="font-style: italic;">From my 2009 diary</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVZjFEklyR-s8etQQ9aVO4XJSJ8OKHkNkAC2tWkJsviAY3lXqrOeGT8gUGQYMGPtuJtaEnnxz1jg7tX16yXKTti3AsTI-85aFRmRL1c9ZEw9CtE8MKAz-8dmOFkaMkys7fejG3gJpZCqw/s1600/on-the-road1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVZjFEklyR-s8etQQ9aVO4XJSJ8OKHkNkAC2tWkJsviAY3lXqrOeGT8gUGQYMGPtuJtaEnnxz1jg7tX16yXKTti3AsTI-85aFRmRL1c9ZEw9CtE8MKAz-8dmOFkaMkys7fejG3gJpZCqw/s320/on-the-road1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699059264158691122" border="0" /></a>Early morning 5 o’clock precise. The train pulled up, I grabbed my gear and alighted from a warm train compartment into a freezing night. The bags got covered with rime at once. At the cold station I joined a group of fellow-passengers who headed the same way. We chatted over the options of how to get to the mountains. There were not many. We would either wait for a route bus until 11 am or hire a van. The locals, circling around like sharks, were offering so pricey rides that we hired the biggest van for all of us (10) and piled into it. <p>The van was really old and cold, creaked at turns and crunched so loud that I was afraid it would burst into pieces any minute. The fellow-passengers were very optimistic about a possible crash, laughed a lot at the matter, took pictures and finally fell asleep.</p> <p>Soon the day broke and breathtakingly huge mountains merged out of the grey of dawn. Serrated ridges of them were stabbing the sky. It was snowy and snow seemed to be falling from those stab wounds. The road was narrow and icy. At some point there was a steep slope to the left and a precipice to the right, my heart sank as I could see the van flying into the river at the bottom of the precipice. Fortunately, it was just my fertile imagination.</p> <p>As we were driving higher into the mountains I felt a bit dizzy and my ears got stuffed up, so I had to yawn strenuously to get them back to normal. And then a miracle happened: I instantly recovered and drowsiness was suddenly gone. The Elbrus sparkling at first light blinded me.</p> <p>The highest (18510 ft/ 5642 m) mountain in Europe left me overwhelmed with emotions. The Elbrus’s tops, which the locals call Mother’s Breasts, were unbelievably beautiful! They bewitched me. That was the place I belonged!</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_iJ4WRBOGvl-dNofV9ymES3qhsvpvHGguL5diavqRulPIEtOLtQr-yqIisfU5bnSJxUHlJBntvEwh57_BIE5hiMM1OnrsH6DBt28XWSneETebwYG7fxV_3mayFwGhyphenhyphenZCWyNB4ZZdb3s/s1600/elbrus-2.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_iJ4WRBOGvl-dNofV9ymES3qhsvpvHGguL5diavqRulPIEtOLtQr-yqIisfU5bnSJxUHlJBntvEwh57_BIE5hiMM1OnrsH6DBt28XWSneETebwYG7fxV_3mayFwGhyphenhyphenZCWyNB4ZZdb3s/s320/elbrus-2.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699059941001316018" border="0" /></a></p><p><br /></p>Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-38234980004662010562012-01-20T22:23:00.000+03:002012-01-20T22:23:00.544+03:00a Farewell and a Legend<span style="font-style: italic;">From my 2009 diary.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqP5Uw1DTulEoK6AqLwBGzW-E2BodzwPruyfYv2GjJ9xpB8arVRYtOP51IGs7qaCDxkPEeRuHPycIBnI4Wnpgzs2s1yFVEN8oRWFhv6JGusQ0g7_fhbdKc0rHyEtuX5hyphenhyphenoCOycs2-Ptg/s1600/dzigit-13.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqP5Uw1DTulEoK6AqLwBGzW-E2BodzwPruyfYv2GjJ9xpB8arVRYtOP51IGs7qaCDxkPEeRuHPycIBnI4Wnpgzs2s1yFVEN8oRWFhv6JGusQ0g7_fhbdKc0rHyEtuX5hyphenhyphenoCOycs2-Ptg/s320/dzigit-13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699055351281316114" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"></span> As soon as my family found out that I was about leaving for Kabardino-Balkaria district, they freaked out. They warned me about locals who were capable of kidnapping a girl in order to marry, that they were hot tempered and I’d better never leave the territory of the hotel on my own.<br /><br />They even told me a legend about a dzhigit* who once kidnapped a girl and galloped her up into the mountains. There he threw a yak-fell on stones, raped the girl and said that it would be her home from then on. The girl submited.<br /><br />The story impressed me, of course, however I thought that if I had been that girl, I would have knocked down the guy, jumped onto his horse and galloped back to my parents.<br /><br />What a romantic experience could it have been!<br /><br />There were more stories about the habits of locals, but none of them would persuade me to travel there. That’s why I packed up my skiing gear and got on the first train to the Caucasus Mountains.<br /><br />—<br />*dzhigit – an inhabitant of Kabardino-Balkaria district, the Caucasus Mountains; a very talented horse riderSunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-33415133583583404702012-01-20T18:36:00.005+03:002012-01-20T18:45:20.052+03:00What every student needs to know – in picturesThe <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/education/gallery/2011/oct/10/student-advice-posters?fb=optOut#/?picture=379672171&index=0">slideshow</a> from <a href="http://advicetosinkinslowly.net/home">Advice To Sink Slowly</a> is for students. However everyone should follow it.<br /><br />Enjoy the <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/education/gallery/2011/oct/10/student-advice-posters?fb=optOut#/?picture=379672171&index=0">project</a>. "It Will Be Worth it":<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgKBemFNw8uMjWbher98oAlJ5hEAGFUiMfASZy8Qzew8mLLwZpxPM3NI7aJTxA7bNO5E1rWJi7Ghv-bZdmcQKPuWSGCuxunDiVbyUFrzMPTtJwpaEJGOc1V4GshyphenhyphenfAbX4UgwsaIiCH3Y/s1600/it+will+be+worth+it.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgKBemFNw8uMjWbher98oAlJ5hEAGFUiMfASZy8Qzew8mLLwZpxPM3NI7aJTxA7bNO5E1rWJi7Ghv-bZdmcQKPuWSGCuxunDiVbyUFrzMPTtJwpaEJGOc1V4GshyphenhyphenfAbX4UgwsaIiCH3Y/s320/it+will+be+worth+it.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699739757920243074" border="0" /></a><br />... and "Be Yourself":<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNi5Cag_OGZtXLxzaZ_P7oaQeZTSnfg3RYRhCDOlmXlo_ieAJLLNKV4Y-orBb9mzaVELV2VaRQr-b8pIgpyS7JsxSwM40ATy_-05LthYsV033Z0ZRgfiqur9q33h04ZPDai3oREUPFDyA/s1600/be+yourself.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNi5Cag_OGZtXLxzaZ_P7oaQeZTSnfg3RYRhCDOlmXlo_ieAJLLNKV4Y-orBb9mzaVELV2VaRQr-b8pIgpyS7JsxSwM40ATy_-05LthYsV033Z0ZRgfiqur9q33h04ZPDai3oREUPFDyA/s320/be+yourself.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699740067761876818" border="0" /></a>Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-30097112150394020092012-01-08T12:06:00.004+03:002012-01-22T00:18:31.853+03:00Winter clean-up<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdkAPynV8Qhyphenhyphenr3_PqlBRvVUiRn-X1Z5v2yIgvA5Up4qBcScd5CGuZX2dspS4_R4KUSFQFltEMptg4C_CakKJ0pqJiSCD-qLkEC6MVv0zwIX-5NTXSM8-NxhVpEN5VuBD1g-GycbO-peY/s1600/clean.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdkAPynV8Qhyphenhyphenr3_PqlBRvVUiRn-X1Z5v2yIgvA5Up4qBcScd5CGuZX2dspS4_R4KUSFQFltEMptg4C_CakKJ0pqJiSCD-qLkEC6MVv0zwIX-5NTXSM8-NxhVpEN5VuBD1g-GycbO-peY/s320/clean.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699047984367081362" border="0" /></a><br />New year has arrived and it's time to clean up last year's stuff and remove 5 extra kilos I've gained during the festive season.<br /><br />First of all I took down decorations. The house instantly turned empty and gloomy. Then I sorted out Christmas kitsch gifts and carton bags to <s>forward them as presents </s> recycle. Miss Christmas already.<br /><br />Furthermore I donated XXL and pregnancy outfits to charity shops, made L clothes ready to wear and put M's on higher shelves of the wardrobe in hope to wear them again one day... Dream on, girl.<br /><br />Finally, greeting cards from the last decade and old diaries went to the bin.<br /><br />I'm very proud of myself now :)<br /><br />I also flicked through those diaries. Found all kinds of entries from super embarrassing to cute. I'll probably post some entries here. Ah, good ol' days.<br /><br />...Meanwhile have to work on those extra kilos.Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-3664811639891973792011-12-10T22:38:00.002+03:002011-12-10T22:45:05.017+03:00Where real happiness is<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkv9BNOM5lRg8MXHqpOYJtwCTGq9T8_QSAJga7Rfozj7V2H72JzN-szX0LUr7xqZ1WGLmWAUO0ru2F-EQWLhZGdKsTdAYqFO3X1knFh5YBWsIxTVWlNVJDSbI3xC3UsXsopYY8q5Hk68/s1600/violets_by_brimer+sm-717039.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkv9BNOM5lRg8MXHqpOYJtwCTGq9T8_QSAJga7Rfozj7V2H72JzN-szX0LUr7xqZ1WGLmWAUO0ru2F-EQWLhZGdKsTdAYqFO3X1knFh5YBWsIxTVWlNVJDSbI3xC3UsXsopYY8q5Hk68/s320/violets_by_brimer+sm-717039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684586431092029330" border="0" /></a></p>"Look at the trees, look at the birds, look at the clouds, look at the stars... and if you have eyes you will be able to see that the whole existence is joyful. Everything is simply happy. Trees are happy for no reason; they are not going to become prime ministers or presidents and they are not going to become rich and they will never have any bank balance. Look at the flowers - for no reason. It is simply unbelievable how happy flowers are."<p>by Osho</p><p><span style="font-size:78%;">pic from deviantart.com</span><br /></p>Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-15569704820429190402011-11-24T23:03:00.002+03:002011-11-24T23:05:47.549+03:00Happy Thanksgiving!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTm5SGEPiocfJunuMQKnswXDYWHkh1uBUEVStPZxaZCxW6kS9F02T7p64nz0kAiq6F8FnMNCZ3NveMKrWn_qZpiy_RRr_9FSkxwHHjHXO_7bv1Dy6aRBIJHXoh8v9iHRcO6eAgqfJnGwE/s1600/thanksgiving.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTm5SGEPiocfJunuMQKnswXDYWHkh1uBUEVStPZxaZCxW6kS9F02T7p64nz0kAiq6F8FnMNCZ3NveMKrWn_qZpiy_RRr_9FSkxwHHjHXO_7bv1Dy6aRBIJHXoh8v9iHRcO6eAgqfJnGwE/s320/thanksgiving.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5678655770568461810" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:georgia, bookman old style, palatino linotype, book antiqua, palatino, trebuchet ms, helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, avante garde, century gothic, comic sans ms, times, times new roman, serif;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">"Thanksgiving was never meant to be shut up in a single day". </span><br />~ Robert Caspar Lintner</span>Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-3619989924231583842011-11-23T12:02:00.000+03:002011-11-23T12:02:00.698+03:00This is Finland<span style="font-weight: bold;">For the record:</span> the tempretare in Finland can be higher than +30C. It is not the country that is covered with snow all year round.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.jokebuddha.com/">Source</a><br /><br />+15°C / 59°F<br />This is as warm as it gets in Finland, so we'll start here.<br />People in Spain wear winter-coats and gloves.<br />The Finns are out in the sun, getting a tan.<br /><br />+10°C / 50°F<br />The French are trying in vain to start their central heating.<br />The Finns plant flowers in their gardens.<br /><br />+5°C / 41°F<br />Italian cars won't start,<br />The Finns are cruising in cabriolets.<br /><br />0°C / 32°F<br />Distilled water freezes.<br />The water in Vantaa river (in Finland) gets a little thicker.<br /><br />-5°C / 23°F<br />People in California almost freeze to death.<br />The Finns have their final barbecue before winter.<br /><br />-10°C / 14°F<br />The Brits start the heat in their houses.<br />The Finns start using long sleeves.<br /><br />-20°C / -4°F<br />The Aussies flee from Mallorca.<br />The Finns end their Midsummer celebrations.<br />Autumn is here.<br /><br />-30°C / -22°F<br />People in Greece die from the cold and disappear from the face of the earth.<br />The Finns start drying their laundry indoors.<br /><br />-40°C / -40°F<br />Paris start cracking in the cold.<br />The Finns stand in line at the hotdog stands.<br /><br />-50°C / -58°F<br />Polar bears start evacuating the North Pole.<br />The Finnish army postpones their winter survival training awaiting real winter weather.<br /><br />-60°C / -76°F<br />Korvatunturi (the home for Santa Claus) freezes.<br />The Finns rent a movie and stay indoors.<br /><br />-70°C / -94°F<br />The false Santa moves south.<br />The Finns get frustrated since they can't store Koskenkorva vodka outdoors.<br />The Finnish army goes out on winter survival training.<br /><br />-183°C / -297.4°F<br />Microbes in food don't survive.<br />The Finnish cows complain that the farmers' hands are cold.<br /><br />-273°C / -459.4°F<br />ALL atom-based movent halts.<br />The Finns start saying "Perkele (=damn), it's cold outside today."<br /><br />-300°C / -508°F<br />Hell freezes over, Finland wins the Eurovision Song Contest.Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-18002650125759701552011-11-15T22:20:00.002+03:002011-11-15T22:26:44.148+03:00Red Velvet Cake<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.foodnetwork.com/FOOD/2007/07/17/IP0204_Red_Velvet_Cake_e.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 224px;" src="http://img.foodnetwork.com/FOOD/2007/07/17/IP0204_Red_Velvet_Cake_e.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Ten years ago I would say cooking was not my cup of tea. Ten years later half of my web bookmarks are recipes.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ingredients:</span><br /><br /> 12 tablespoons butter, 1 1/2 sticks<br /> 2 large eggs<br /> 1 teaspoon vanilla<br /> 1 teaspoon salt<br /> 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour<br /> 1 1/2 cups sugar<br /> 2 tablespoons red gel food coloring plus 2 tablespoons water<br /> 2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa<br /> 1 cup buttermilk - <span style="font-weight: bold;">HELP! What is this thing?</span><br /> 1 tablespoon vinegar<br /> 1 teaspoon baking soda<br /> <br /> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Cooked Frosting</span><br /> 1 cup milk<br /> 1/3 all-purpose flour<br /> 1 cup butter<br /> 1 cup granulated sugar<br /> 1 teaspoon vanilla<br /> milk or cream<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Preparation:</span><br /><br />Preheat oven to 350°. Generously grease and flour 3 8-inch round layer cake pans or 2 9-inch cake pans.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cake:</span> Cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add eggs and beat 1 minute longer. Beat in vanilla until blended. Combine cocoa, food coloring, and 2 tablespoons water; beat into the egg creamed mixture. Combine flour and salt. Alternate adding flour and buttermilk mixtures to the batter, beating on low to medium speed. Combine soda and vinegar in cup and add to cake batter. Spoon batter evenly into the 3 cake pans; bake at 350° for 22 to 28 minutes. Cool on cake racks. Remove from pans and frost tops and sides.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Frosting:</span> In a saucepan, whisk together the 1/3 cup flour and milk and cook, stirring, until thickened; cool in the refrigerator. Beat butter, sugar and vanilla with mixer. Add flour and milk mixture a little at a time (make ahead of cake so that it has plenty of time to cool). Beat well, adding milk or cream as needed. Frost layers, sides, and top of cake.<br /><br /><a href="www.about.com">from About.com</a>Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-48945426751219454792011-10-23T21:53:00.002+03:002011-10-23T21:57:27.129+03:00A few words about my new home<span style="font-weight: bold;">Finland, land of forests, saunas and magic</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Finland, tucked away near the top of the world, is a country that few of my acquaintances have visited</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">ALISTAIR ANDERSON</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Published: 2011/10/14 09:51:52 AM</span><br /><br />Finland is a country that few of my acquaintances have visited. It is not that it is dangerous or dead boring; it is just tucked away near the top of the world, and its citizens are not famous for letting the world know how proud of their country they are.<br /><br />Upon landing at Vantaa airport, in the capital, Helsinki, I am overrun by trees. Hamish, a friend from South Africa, was right; Finland is a giant forest.<br /><br />As I walk out of the airport, I wonder why I am not wearing shorts. It is as humid as Mozambique in January. Hamish did not mention the humidity, but he had been here in winter. He said it was -30° Celsius.<br /><br />Having arrived on a Saturday, I spend the weekend visiting beaches and seeing the sites the city has to offer. But I start the first official week of my programme here (it is a business visit) by befriending trees.<br /><br />Hamish said all he remembered about Finland were trees, trees and more trees. But he did not mention how beautiful these trees were. As much as 70% of the country’s land area is covered by forests. It is full of beautiful green structures and has more lakes than any other country — the combination is spectacular.<br /><br />According to the website Forest.fi, Finland is the most extensively forested country in Europe. There are about 4,5ha of forest to every Finn, of which there are about 5-million. Aki, a Finn from the country’s embassy in South Africa who has visited Mpumalanga, says he saw many trees there too, but they looked planted for industry. Finland, instead, has maintained its forests, adding some trees, but always trying to make it hard for tourists to tell which are for industry.<br /><br />It is Tuesday and, following a cruise along the Baltic Sea, my group is visiting Nuuksio national park. We take a bus from Helsinki and stop among — surprise! — some trees. We are going to experience some of the most beautiful forests in Finland. A man in a multicoloured cap, jeans and a lumberjack-type shirt greets us. What hair he has is quite light.<br /><br />"Hello, I am Pekka and welcome to our forest. We go for a walk and then we drink coffee, OK? Coffee is wonderful," he says.<br /><br />According to research by Alwyn van der Merwe, Sanlam Investment Management’s director of investments, Finns drink more coffee per capita than any other nation. The average Finn drinks 1,400 cups of coffee a year.<br /><br />Pekka Väänänen’s company Green Window operates in Nuuksio. Judging by our 30-minute bus ride, one could argue Nuuksio is near the city. But there is no sign of city slickers other than my tour group.<br /><br />"Don’t disturb the elves," Mari, a Finnish organiser, warns.<br /><br />"There are elves? Do Finns really believe in magic?" I ask.<br /><br />"I don’t know what you mean by magic but elves are real. You may just see one," she says.<br /><br />Nuuksio’s valleys and gorges were created during the Ice Age. I know I will not see mammoths and other creatures from that time but elves — I am now determined to see one.<br /><br />I did not see any elves in any forest but I was still able to be Fox Mulder of the X-Files for a few minutes. I spotted something that looked like a dog with wings and fangs. I was convinced it was la chupacabra, a mythical creature that kills goats in Latin America.<br /><br />Back in Nuuksio, we are, I assume, halfway through our trip, when Pekka shows us a flower. I am not sure what it is called.<br /><br />"Give it to a beautiful person. It will bring them luck" he says.<br /><br />Well, I like my tour group, and the respective Finnish embassies in each of their countries chose well. I am looking around for a pretty person, and many of the girls already have flowers. I give mine to Ekatha from India. "I hope he’s right," I say.<br /><br />Next, we pick blueberries. Pekka also picks mushrooms, showing us which are edible and which are also edible but with side effects.<br /><br />"These ones will make your stomach unhappy. These red ones will make you see things and not sleep," he says. "But the blueberries go well with coffee."<br /><br />It is slightly darker, so it must be nearly 8pm. We have been drinking average-strength coffee. Some people wet their feet in the lake in front of us, while I drink more.<br /><br />Half an hour or so later, Pekka says the salmon he was smoking is ready. It is the finest I have eaten in my life; so juicy. I hear the food is from restaurant Metsätähti. It’s a Finnish surname. The boys drink copious amounts of wine with it, while the girl<span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"><span class=" down" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_CreateLink" title="Link" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 8);ButtonMouseDown(this);"><img src="img/blank.gif" alt="Link" class="gl_link" border="0" /></span></span>s go to do something else that also involves smoke — "they go to sauna".<br /><br />The rest of us also conclude the day by going to sauna, a popular but also spiritual activity in Finland. It is a tradition that came from people wanting to make their bodies stronger for the winters — to build their sisu, or strength of will.<br /><br />Nowadays, Finns sauna throughout the year. It is a peaceful setting. I do not think intimacy accurately describes it but I feel stripped of stress.<br /><br />* The writer was hosted by the Ministry for Foreign Affairs of Finland<br /><br /><a href="http://www.businessday.co.za/articles/Content.aspx?id=156083">Source</a>Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-2334290025605792542011-10-15T22:41:00.002+03:002011-10-15T22:46:07.426+03:00My Everything<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg637HNRMFsYPBhXCVeqtbAO5RV3eWsDKdK5zC2e9_OVEnnvB0COzMwsmPQQOdPvUtWMtBWUGph6HNE7lgFJmmUGIuamPXN_n-SSEzT-9rJdg27QIQn-CJyckgIkkJvb9KyaoyKMGPdA9M/s1600/093.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg637HNRMFsYPBhXCVeqtbAO5RV3eWsDKdK5zC2e9_OVEnnvB0COzMwsmPQQOdPvUtWMtBWUGph6HNE7lgFJmmUGIuamPXN_n-SSEzT-9rJdg27QIQn-CJyckgIkkJvb9KyaoyKMGPdA9M/s320/093.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5663806795406981554" border="0" /></a><br /><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:hyphenationzone>21</w:HyphenationZone> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language: EN-US;mso-fareast-language:FI;mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:";font-size:12.0pt;" lang="EN-US" >I gave birth to the cutest girl in April and she has become my world ever since. </span><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:hyphenationzone>21</w:HyphenationZone> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";mso-fareast-Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language: EN-US;mso-fareast-language:FI;mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:";font-size:12.0pt;" lang="EN-US" >I would never imagine that sleepless nights, sore nipples, poop problems and permanent exhaustion could light up my life so much.</span>Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-53090084262074952632011-03-10T17:00:00.004+02:002011-04-10T17:39:30.823+03:00Reflection in frustrationThey say Nordic countries have two seasons: a cold season and a very cold one. I tend to agree especially when winter lasts painfully long.<br /><br />This time the very cold season began in October 2010. Long nights, frosty grey days and two-meter high snowdrifts brought me to extremely low spirits. My mode of life was very uneventful, boring and filled with distress. I had a terrible job, health problems, boyfriend blues and dreaded a huge change in the near future.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5z3y9Im58EoLZBpif-BMfwGuj2TmVUh4Ivufy2G7QEKTLHTms-43T_3qdoSi_NomJVWr0dSwbOaOPr_8C8XeSHlh7clg0k2kqBRBlU0dRn-cn8Z40xJQbu-rkA5W7rkLVdlinwNNQBf0/s1600/tiny+house.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5z3y9Im58EoLZBpif-BMfwGuj2TmVUh4Ivufy2G7QEKTLHTms-43T_3qdoSi_NomJVWr0dSwbOaOPr_8C8XeSHlh7clg0k2kqBRBlU0dRn-cn8Z40xJQbu-rkA5W7rkLVdlinwNNQBf0/s200/tiny+house.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593963742265898418" border="0" /></a>The Huge Change was a marriage proposal and a move to Finland, the country that dramatically differs from Russia and where I knew nobody but my husband. Besides I supposed the town we were going to live was so small in comparison with St. Petersburg that there would be nothing to do. That was the right assumption.<br /><br />Anyways, the decision had been made. I moved in mid-February, married in March and began to get settled in Finnish suburbia fighting back boredom and frustration. A tough thing to do.<br /><br />These days I often recall Francesca (a character from “The Bridges Of Madison County”) who once said: “When a woman makes the choice to marry, to have children; in one way her life begins but in another way it stops. You build a life of details. You become a mother, a wife and you stop and stay steady so that your children can move. And when they leave they take your life of details with them. And then you're expected move again only you don't remember what moves you because no-one has asked in so long. Not even yourself.”<br /><br />…And I start to wonder if I am actually capable of leaving the swinging twenty-something life behind and ready to dedicate myself to my brand-new family.Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-28513907772478610572011-01-14T15:18:00.000+02:002011-01-19T13:18:38.162+02:00Weight Gain<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.womansday.com/var/ezflow_site/storage/images/wd2/content/health/9-things-you-should-ask-your-gynecologist/847164-1-eng-US/9-Things-You-Should-Ask-Your-Gynecologist_full_article_vertical.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 324px; height: 384px;" src="http://www.womansday.com/var/ezflow_site/storage/images/wd2/content/health/9-things-you-should-ask-your-gynecologist/847164-1-eng-US/9-Things-You-Should-Ask-Your-Gynecologist_full_article_vertical.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Last visit to gynaecologist's was quite stressing. She nagged at me for gaining 6 lb in three weeks. She believed that weekly gain should be 1 lb max and warned that those extra pounds would hamper in labour.<br /><br />Frustrated, I called another doctor who said that an average woman gained up to 35 lb during pregnancy and I had nothing to worry about. What a relief!<br /><br />I also googled how much weight I should gain. There goes the answer:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Based on your pre-pregnancy body size, a healthy weight gain to aim for is:<br /><br />- Underweight - gain 28-39lb<br />- Normal - gain 25-35lb<br />- Overweight - gain 15-25lb<br />- Very overweight - gain at least 15 lb<br /></span><br /><br />info on weight gain is from <a href="http://www.askamum.co.uk/?">Pregnancy & Birth</a> magazineSunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-9130631483452091872011-01-01T15:02:00.000+02:002011-01-10T16:22:50.561+02:00PregnancyDreams do come true...<br /><br />A few months back I found out that I was pregnant. What a tearful discovery it was! I told no one but mum. My boyfriend was the second to know after a visit to the clinic.<br /><br />The first ultrasound showed a little black spot with a tiny white heart. "<span style="font-style: italic;">Meet the baby!</span>" the doctor solemnly announced and my life has never been the same again.<br /><br />On the way home I purchased a couple of magazines to glimpse into what I'm about to go through. There was a whole new world of healthy life style, proper nutrition, pelvic floor workouts and nappy changing.<br /><br />How am I supposed to learn all that within 9 months and become a super mom?Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-53889655582625760662010-11-24T00:29:00.000+02:002011-10-15T22:38:34.414+03:00Happy Thanksgiving<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDOMqSD_rTpwDCjaiJsoXb0gnAi0bbi_r6VKbGZW57CfFz_r7Yw7dcRmNxcDT-htdkQ29jwAw92rrAldrBkm5WeRhdq__VyA59pWwch3wYPLU9gSU4PMzcg_HVlKwN7e8UVidiIOhOMrg/s1600/Th+giv.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDOMqSD_rTpwDCjaiJsoXb0gnAi0bbi_r6VKbGZW57CfFz_r7Yw7dcRmNxcDT-htdkQ29jwAw92rrAldrBkm5WeRhdq__VyA59pWwch3wYPLU9gSU4PMzcg_HVlKwN7e8UVidiIOhOMrg/s400/Th+giv.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543216733712561138" border="0" /></a>Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-8846201154152954572010-04-10T20:25:00.002+03:002010-04-10T20:31:02.842+03:00Dusty SpringSpring has been forging ahead steadily and has finally won out.<br /><br />It was so warm and sunny recently that three meter high snowdrifts were gone within a couple weeks. There were huge floods of thawing snow, and for the first time in my life I didn’t feel embarrassed wearing my red rubber Wellingtons, the number one footwear for fashionistas this spring.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFtZJ6sweisewbZjYH84ggIpIqoEA5VFMeFccfGzcoETJPXTjxLlgll9BvOvSsVTXEtKzrZ0TxWQIq0QkXRZeecPOvBmqtsgnhvM_Pc-HKbAkVQA5CdHkgwup6ruU40MoIQK7wcpy8WqE/s1600/lego+clean.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458561723435061186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 136px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFtZJ6sweisewbZjYH84ggIpIqoEA5VFMeFccfGzcoETJPXTjxLlgll9BvOvSsVTXEtKzrZ0TxWQIq0QkXRZeecPOvBmqtsgnhvM_Pc-HKbAkVQA5CdHkgwup6ruU40MoIQK7wcpy8WqE/s200/lego+clean.jpg" border="0" /></a>The whole city is now longing for a torrential downpour. The dust and dirt of winter must be washed away as soon as possible; otherwise lots of people will die of severe allergies to all the crap, which has been congregated under the snow all winter long. Moreover, there is too much pets’ faeces in the streets as cleaning up is not part of local pet owners’ culture.<br /><br />But for the dirt and the smell, the life would be very close to perfect. School year’s coming to its end, summer holidays are on the way, and so is my three-month vacation!Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-87956951674621978572010-04-05T16:40:00.000+03:002010-04-05T16:40:00.413+03:00Horror Egg StoriesFound some scary egg stories in my inbox yesterday. The photographs were accompanied by Easter blessings, which was rather weird. <br /><br />Anyway, some of them are quite cute. There goes my Top 5:<br /><br /><a href="http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r108/sunny_routine/holidays/12.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 337px;" src="http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r108/sunny_routine/holidays/12.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://s142.photobucket.com/albums/r108/sunny_routine/holidays/?action=view¤t=13.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r108/sunny_routine/holidays/13.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://s142.photobucket.com/albums/r108/sunny_routine/holidays/?action=view¤t=14.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r108/sunny_routine/holidays/14.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://s142.photobucket.com/albums/r108/sunny_routine/holidays/?action=view¤t=19.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r108/sunny_routine/holidays/19.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://s142.photobucket.com/albums/r108/sunny_routine/holidays/?action=view¤t=20.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r108/sunny_routine/holidays/20.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a>Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-5511433073677949532010-04-04T18:49:00.002+03:002010-04-04T18:53:52.489+03:00Happy Easter! to the whole world<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBuFTdqMlqNi5vTN35M0ySHyE4-XYsNkuET7TkK80wttp-BXgirOaWuYAzkSGwuj3diYXW0jfZJZG7rgBMqbzM0vs7q9vvEa3Op3IhfAwCNb2oBrxCitCuLi-QFRGkq07zu16TW_BACgE/s1600/pasha+blog.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456310876627028242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBuFTdqMlqNi5vTN35M0ySHyE4-XYsNkuET7TkK80wttp-BXgirOaWuYAzkSGwuj3diYXW0jfZJZG7rgBMqbzM0vs7q9vvEa3Op3IhfAwCNb2oBrxCitCuLi-QFRGkq07zu16TW_BACgE/s320/pasha+blog.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><strong>Easter Joy</strong><br /><br />Jesus came to earth,<br />To show us how to live,<br />How to put others first,<br />How to love and how to give.<br /><br />Then He set about His work,<br />That God sent Him to do;<br />He took our punishment on Himself;<br />He made us clean and new.<br /><br />He could have saved Himself,<br />Calling angels from above,<br />But He chose to pay our price for sin;<br />He paid it out of love.<br /><br />Our Lord died on Good Friday,<br />But the cross did not destroy<br />His resurrection on Easter morn<br />That fills our hearts with joy.<br /><br />Now we know our earthly death,<br />Like His, is just a rest.<br />We'll be forever with Him<br />In heaven, where life is best.<br /><br />So we live our lives for Jesus,<br />Think of Him in all we do.<br />Thank you Savior; Thank you Lord.<br />Help us love like you!<br /><br /><em>By Joanna Fuchs</em>Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-25965324309286913282009-11-29T22:35:00.003+02:002009-11-29T22:52:39.225+02:00animal planet<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcabD1qr14c6up9PvX0Vsu4Z7DbV645IKVXwNKFULxIv7pfuCAx_SpaugQsQ_a0I1abn3IfTlzF90RGPte7FReRD_C2_ty8XiyTDr9l0ajNq9pNsUO_gjzs58AUDedx6YDWrAExYWB0sQ/s1600/loffler.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409631130234018882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 337px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcabD1qr14c6up9PvX0Vsu4Z7DbV645IKVXwNKFULxIv7pfuCAx_SpaugQsQ_a0I1abn3IfTlzF90RGPte7FReRD_C2_ty8XiyTDr9l0ajNq9pNsUO_gjzs58AUDedx6YDWrAExYWB0sQ/s400/loffler.jpg" border="0" /></a> This wonderful portrait was created by Harald Löffler at <a href="http://portfolio.eye-of-the-tiger.com/index.html">Eye Of The Tiger</a>, a very talented photographer who once created an amazing calendar and sold it in aid of <a href="http://www.21stcenturytiger.org/index.php?pg=1229692260">21st Century Tiger</a>.<br />Here is his story: "Once upon a time there was a national park in India. For a long time there lived a healthy Tiger population in this park. In 2005, during a very short period of time (about one month), <em>all</em> the Tigers fell prey to poachers. When I heard about this horrible incident I decided to create a limited edition of my “Cats Unlimited 2006” calendar"... <a href="http://www.eye-of-the-tiger.com/html/kalendere.html">Read further.</a>Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-195601667840785562.post-65732881779485262482009-11-23T20:55:00.004+02:002009-11-23T22:00:22.825+02:00challenging monthsI’ve been out there teaching again after a year break. <br /><br />These three months have been the toughest ever! I seemed to have never taught before. The knowledge obtained at the teachers training college, the university and eight year experience of teaching disabled kids, handicapped kids, normal secondary school kids, weird teenagers, talented teenagers, really hard-working guys and a few grown-ups DID NOT help. I had found myself absolutely frustrated by the end of the first two weeks of teaching at a primary school.<br /><br />There are two classes that specialize in languages, so the children have been learning French 5 (!) times a week since the first form. <br /><br />I “inherited” the third formers and the fourth formers. Both of the classes had never written a single sentence or a vocabulary test and their previous year activity books had been almost empty. Therefore my challenge number one was to teach them a little Writing and Reading. The children were as shocked as their parents when I <em>made </em>the pupils write new words in vocabularies, sentences in activity books and even *<em>huge</em>* compositions of 4-5 sentenced . <br /><br />The second challenge was Testing. Another shock arrived along with the first vocabulary test, which was a total failure. It took me and the children a few days to recover and then I kept on pushing. They must hate me by now, BUT I’m looking at it from a different point of view: <br /><br />-My pupils are now able to work in pairs, <br />-create compositions of 5-6 sentences, <br />-Talk on two serious topics: “my family” and “my home”.<br />Moreover, they actually <em>know </em>many words <em>by sight </em>not by ear, as I’m not always around to pronounce the words so that the pupils guess the meanings.<br /><br />Am I an evil teacher? Could be, but foreign languages are vital nowadays.<br /><br />I also teach second formers. Their class specializes in something else and it is their first learning-a-foreign-language year. It’s so cool and so much fun! We sing and dance, learn alphabet and transcription symbols, paint and what not. On the way I teach them a bit writing, reading and speaking so that they will not be too stressed when serious stuff begins.Sunnyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12554945700139507272noreply@blogger.com3