tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79372022678703192292024-03-05T23:48:43.739+01:00KarinjuxisWhy, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.comBlogger85125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-69232998675874424882013-04-22T10:49:00.000+02:002013-04-22T10:52:09.643+02:00You Cat to Be Kitten Meow! Part II: Eyes Widely ShutWhen I was nearly ten days old my eyes began to open. At first only tiny slits of blue on my soft fury face. The more mommy washed my face the wider the openings became, till they were fully open. I couldn't see more than light and shadows, but it was better than orienting myself by the sound, the warmth of my siblings or the smell of milk.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGSaPCEMXhdWdUruhhoSVz7SYUQuiTLKAayIJVOT6KJ-sueYxurrqw5ZpB8XD0oMR8hblwid2hQRhw_6vC-mXlubr0HjV5cdRKlmRAwhMsPhoSth5hy1jqxMma-pM-uoaH3ixSKBqLxLw/s1600/DSCN1201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGSaPCEMXhdWdUruhhoSVz7SYUQuiTLKAayIJVOT6KJ-sueYxurrqw5ZpB8XD0oMR8hblwid2hQRhw_6vC-mXlubr0HjV5cdRKlmRAwhMsPhoSth5hy1jqxMma-pM-uoaH3ixSKBqLxLw/s320/DSCN1201.JPG" width="319" /></a>On the day when my left eye was nearly fully open something unusual happened. We heard loud bangs and other horrifying noises at the window near the porch where we slept in the basket. Harsh whispering human voices and heavy booted footsteps hurrying around. Our human family never behaves like that. Their children make noises, at times very loud ones, but their voices are cheerful, full of laughter. The voices we were hearing now were bad, I can't explain how we knew it, but we knew something was wrong. Our mommy covered all of her babies with her body and was meowing quietly, but nervously, warning the strangers not to come any closer. I was petrified with fear and squeezed my eyes shut. When the heavy booted steps ceased running through the house and the noises came back to the broken window, a new sound added to it - the strangers were dragging a heavy bag, full of our humans' possessions. They were thieves! I was glad no one put me in that bag, I stayed where I was and our mother kept hovering over us long after the menacing strangers were gone. I heard the human mother cry a lot that day, she was keeping her children near at all times, just like our mommy did.Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-25340793634501853562013-04-17T15:55:00.001+02:002013-04-17T21:28:58.171+02:00Volatile state of marriage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSZ0351pjH5o5_fPJ4FEYCew_wi7jlCGxmUdwPcSxhvhn7fPLOMy8vW5J6DGFMMOIjS_baSFCYE5gHtghqqoKPAF6OrxryPYMYpCuKRPJhE5kk0_RTdNO2rrIUzXDbR8jEnX-s8dFU66U/s1600/toon438.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSZ0351pjH5o5_fPJ4FEYCew_wi7jlCGxmUdwPcSxhvhn7fPLOMy8vW5J6DGFMMOIjS_baSFCYE5gHtghqqoKPAF6OrxryPYMYpCuKRPJhE5kk0_RTdNO2rrIUzXDbR8jEnX-s8dFU66U/s320/toon438.gif" width="289" /></a></div>
Today I had to go and wait in a rather long queue in a municipal office to obtain a copy of my marriage certificate, or as Italians call it "stato di matrimonio", the state of marriage. Everything sounds better in Italian, doesn't it? In the printed form one has to fill when applying for the certificate one must state the purpose for which the certificate will be used. Most of people in the queue before me were applying for the certificate in order to get a divorce, as I couldn't avoid finding out from the office employee who was routinely checking the correctness of each filled form in a carrying voice. <br />
I don't know what hit me. The thought that the same two people who now want to be free from any bonds with each other just a few years ago wanted nothing but to grow old together, to close an eye on imperfections of each other, to support and to carry on carrying on. Also the fact that three out of five marriages end up in divorce. The fact that there are so many people who after divorce have to reinvent themselves and their social life accordingly, to search for comfort and support elsewhere, or to cry themselves into sleep every night because they keep failing at finding it and start losing faith. The fact that it's easier to leave than to be left behind. I've seen it all among my friends. <br />
I also felt thankful (to myself?) that I haven't given up on the man who drives me bonkers more often than not, who at first sight doesn't seem to be willing to apply himself to make me happy, but is unhappy if I search for things that make me happy if it doesn't go along his daily routine. I want to adopt a dog, he doesn't. I'm not a cat person, yet I've ended up with dozens of cats he adopted over last decade. I am blabbermouth, he's the biggest introvert I've ever met. We're a living proof that opposites attract.<br />
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Just like pain threshold is different for each person, I suppose incompatibility tolerance level is different for each of us. Someone wouldn't tolerate things I've compromised, someone else tolerates much more than me and doesn't even wince. There is no moral to this story, just the fact that I keep chewing on it - why people stay together no matter what? And why others don't?Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-5217608560312713412013-04-13T10:22:00.000+02:002013-04-13T10:57:33.576+02:00You cat to be kitten meow! Part I: Birth<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9elqNQuYmVS6VRXCfvCbzhB6iYu4MWObRxgK44H_fl_2PI2eMG60A9XIEPNm1q2TWHGhHiaNpngeF5ZOc6JotQabJZszTlBdkqRVBm6xmURK4p5cZuD1l6B2iE2-2DScSOLDMAg7X1aw/s1600/DSCN0871.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9elqNQuYmVS6VRXCfvCbzhB6iYu4MWObRxgK44H_fl_2PI2eMG60A9XIEPNm1q2TWHGhHiaNpngeF5ZOc6JotQabJZszTlBdkqRVBm6xmURK4p5cZuD1l6B2iE2-2DScSOLDMAg7X1aw/s320/DSCN0871.JPG" width="257" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Mommy? Mommy,
where are you? What are these dry grains of sand around me? I can't see. What
is this large furless animal lifting me from dust and putting me under
something wet? Am I going back into you, mommy? Oh, I wish I could go back
there, stay with you safe and happy...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">It turns
out those were hands of the human mother that lifted me out of the litter sand,
where my mommy had foolishly dropped me when her labour pains caught her
unprepared. Oh, silly mommy! She was so inexperienced, we were her first
kittens, her first litter. In the moment of panic, under the siege of unrecognised
pains, she sought refuge in the place where no one could hurt her - her closed
litter box. Thus, ironically, she dropped the first kitten of her first litter
into the litter box. Then helpful hands picked me up and washed off the sand
under warm tap water, only to give me back to my mommy, for her to finish
cleaning me. Mind it, I still had the sac attached. She had to bite it off and
eat it, as all feline mothers do. It was a distressful moment, I was wet, and
cold, and then a new feeling kicked in. Hunger. The feeling that moves the whole
animal planet around, makes us change locations and hunt, or for the luckiest
of us, it means we have to whine for food and make friends with the humans.
They are kind, most of them. Look how they helped my mommy when she didn't know
what was happening to her and me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Three more
kittens followed me into this world, all looking more like tiny rodents than felines. To an
untrained eye we might look like four white mice with pink extremities and
nearly bare tails, bearing no obvious resemblance with our beautiful mommy,
royal in her posture and adorable in her shades of beige and brown, darker at
the tips of her paws, tail and her nose, always kept slightly upwards. Our
mommy is posh, she's a pure breed Siamese. The humans say her eyes are violet blue like those of Elizabeth Taylor, but I have no idea who that Taylor cat is. She must be really beautiful if she's anything like my mommy. </span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB">The humans we now live with adopted
her from other humans, who didn't want her anymore, they said it's either
adoption or cat pound. So we've been lucky. <br />
My siblings and I don't even sound like our mommy yet, not even like the little
mice that we resemble at the moment. My voice is more like that of a hungry chirping
birdie. How will my mommy know that I'm
her baby? Will she recognise and feed me? But I guess mommies always know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-51423899432069262372013-01-06T21:45:00.000+01:002013-01-06T21:46:26.484+01:0012 things I learned in 2012<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFujk-Vw_ANStNRpymJycjTwsTkbVJuSy9M1uQba2bCnZTvcUo_X9SwH0VXIWUay7zlOR18Px8T4hX7k7ChBMtMJOo0cFFJaL5vYhzeVzlj-Is4RtbPhTlPNfzUEtZLzqhfd5UrgvLYVo/s1600/America_-_oak_tree_in_new_england_sunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFujk-Vw_ANStNRpymJycjTwsTkbVJuSy9M1uQba2bCnZTvcUo_X9SwH0VXIWUay7zlOR18Px8T4hX7k7ChBMtMJOo0cFFJaL5vYhzeVzlj-Is4RtbPhTlPNfzUEtZLzqhfd5UrgvLYVo/s320/America_-_oak_tree_in_new_england_sunrise.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<ol>
<li>Safe as houses is the most untrue saying of them all. We were robbed last year. It still doesn't feel safe anywhere near the house. </li>
<li>If someone tells you they don't believe friendship exists, don't expect them to show you loyalty and support.</li>
<li>A person can only give you what they've received and have in them. It works both on physical and emotional level. </li>
<li>There is nobody else in the whole wide world that can give you the emotional range that your own kids can. </li>
<li>No one will ever understand you the way you do, so don't expect them to.</li>
<li>Don't try to prove anything to anyone. </li>
<li>Life is too short to still be bullied and manipulated by public opinion like when you were a child.</li>
<li>I have grown out of religious forms and into more need of God Himself. </li>
<li>Sleeping sometimes is art, and sometimes it's science. </li>
<li>Constructive criticism builds and gives you faith in your abilities. Anything else is plainly destructive, beware.</li>
<li>Sometimes we choose friends, and sometimes God chooses them for us.</li>
<li>We all need someone to believe in us.</li>
</ol>
Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-81384324538991305012012-10-25T08:20:00.001+02:002012-10-25T08:21:33.172+02:00En garde!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgovpVGjb_zuVI2Q4dQpuXqCRjv2hyfrE8TWUbHKzxAQG3wkMEIURvvN64eG65QCtaNFDO1z6opxIzwnG19fIwPISH4rAEC1WF7NeaovZm5XGyQA8UU21GJbHG4gt7DBHkdMZ9HNBqfxco/s1600/confused-face-with-glasses.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgovpVGjb_zuVI2Q4dQpuXqCRjv2hyfrE8TWUbHKzxAQG3wkMEIURvvN64eG65QCtaNFDO1z6opxIzwnG19fIwPISH4rAEC1WF7NeaovZm5XGyQA8UU21GJbHG4gt7DBHkdMZ9HNBqfxco/s200/confused-face-with-glasses.jpg" width="135" /></a></div>
When a man tells you he (being a man) is just as bad at cooking as you (being a woman) probably are at maths you don't know whether to be offended, to take it as compliment or to empathise. Caught me unprepared and left me confused for hours!Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-66157334213583700912012-10-23T19:26:00.002+02:002012-10-27T11:52:35.505+02:00Got your back coveredOnly a man can offend you and then get offended by you being offended by what he just did. My husband has polished this art to perfection...<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz8i_UPjt4o9_5hXvpwUoflgatwXumjZxxAAMOxByYn2_iao6qKqm8biP7qgAF9r21gQyg3OZuXKK1eo3jL4Q-szE6jvKmnb7NOJ6UEVEasDwLg7cZkuX4wj8twHcY3tpLi0gLjYpXUQI/s1600/E_4b9e1b7550.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz8i_UPjt4o9_5hXvpwUoflgatwXumjZxxAAMOxByYn2_iao6qKqm8biP7qgAF9r21gQyg3OZuXKK1eo3jL4Q-szE6jvKmnb7NOJ6UEVEasDwLg7cZkuX4wj8twHcY3tpLi0gLjYpXUQI/s1600/E_4b9e1b7550.jpg" /></a>Kids asked him to put forward the recorded film so they wouldn't have to watch commercials. The remote control was on the table right in front of him. His reaction? Repeated yells about them needing to learn patience and waiting till he finishes to type in his game chat... How ridiculous is that? At that moment I happened to be passing by and put the film forward, saying there is no need to wait till after the commercials only to put the film forward when it doesn't need forwarding any longer. Another "rational" reaction from the other adult of our family? Rage and fury about me not covering his back. Really??? Do we live in the same reality and participate in the same events? More than that, he said that from now on he will not cover my back either. Ha!<br />
Other pearls from life and works of my significant other? Once he grabbed a dirty spoon from the sink and ate something with it tasting the food along with the soap in which spoon was soaking. FYI, utensil drawer is right next to the sink. Let's see if you can guess whose fault it was? Nope, not his. As if it's normal to keep clean and ready for use spoons in sink among dirty dishes.<br />
Another time he made me lose my sleep after he stormed into bedroom and accused me of being careless and not charging the battery of electric toothbrush (which was still charged and worked just fine when I brushed my teeth an hour prior to that). These are just some of his latest outbursts.<br />
Why is he still with me if I'm pissing him off so easily sometimes? Because a man needs someone at hand who could be blamed for the vast range of small misfortunes that fall upon him.<br />
Why am I still here beside him, you might ask? Because often I feel like I've won him in lottery, and you do not just throw away your winnings, even if it's just a green sponge in shape of an elephant!!!Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-40016972085144299942012-10-08T11:56:00.001+02:002012-10-08T11:56:18.478+02:0042<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcYh6sQwR78OH1uVEhJPAPvX7n5T-oQthq8mv0htzOXUntWeorc8LzYjYYCICngqfOj2HEjdE9uxndwh36z0yIELuHLJDkTFfyqEepXKoT3e6BuLCCBxSlndEL_uQRYUZxAUWYsQla-pE/s1600/42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcYh6sQwR78OH1uVEhJPAPvX7n5T-oQthq8mv0htzOXUntWeorc8LzYjYYCICngqfOj2HEjdE9uxndwh36z0yIELuHLJDkTFfyqEepXKoT3e6BuLCCBxSlndEL_uQRYUZxAUWYsQla-pE/s320/42.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Smell of freshly laundered bed linen. Warm feet. Warm knees, surprisingly. Earl Grey tea with a spoon or even two of sugar. Warm palm of hand pressed softly to forehead. A pillow, a teddy bear, anything soft and warm pressed against the chest near the heart. Deliberate absence of thought. That's my personal prescription for those moments when the bottomless hole opens in my heart and I can't see further than the black nonexistent wall right in front of me. We all have these moments. It's so human. What is the meaning of life, Universe, everything? It's forty-two, Douglas Adams would have said.Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-42916314134901708672012-10-01T10:27:00.000+02:002012-10-01T10:27:08.419+02:00The secret of emotionally engaging writing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><i>People have come up with all sorts of explanations for Harry Potter's popularity with grown-up readers, from the obvious – the escapist attractions of the minutely invented fantasy world – to the grandiose: western adults are stuck in an eternal adolescence. But one of them, I suspect, is that </i><u>people still enjoy reading about good people, and seeing them rewarded – something that more respectable novels seldom offer these days<i>.</i></u>" Theo Tait, The Guardian</span>Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-58988146252140024362012-09-27T09:19:00.000+02:002012-09-27T09:41:39.854+02:00Misplaced<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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And here I am again, taking full swing into sentimentalism and emotional crisis. On the visible level there is no reason for it. If you scratch under the surface there are plenty of small reasons to be uncomfortable in my skin. One by one these reasons may seem insignificant, just like each puzzle piece alone doesn't show you the whole picture. I've realised, the longer I live the sorer my soul becomes. People closest to me say I'm an idealist, too honest for the ways of this world. Couldn't agree more. The truth is I am not adapted for life on this planet. I'm a lousy liar, too compassionate, too empathetic. Worse than that, I don't know how to become tougher and insensitive. I am a misplaced object that doesn't know where it really belongs.Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-26739470066027953632012-09-17T15:26:00.003+02:002012-09-17T21:14:07.850+02:00The blind spot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I am fascinated by mind, human mind in particular. It is the most powerful tool we possess. It can work either as a poison or an antidote, and only mind itself can decide which one it will be. No one can oppress or uplift a mind if the mind itself doesn't allow the corresponding information to be processed into thoughts. And what a subtle self-preservation mechanism it is gifted with!<br />
What is all this poetic rant about? Nothing special, just a trick my own mind played on me. I went into a room to take my headphones, instead after a blind spot lasting 5 seconds I found myself standing with a white bra in my hands. Had to return to that room to deposit the bra and pick up the headphones I needed in the first place. Very funny, mind, very funny...Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-89781439214141805232012-09-03T22:33:00.001+02:002012-09-03T22:33:24.765+02:00I remember where I was when...I remember where I was when my mom called dad and me to tell us that my grandmom had died of cancer after having spent the last half a year of her rather short life in upright position to prevent liquid gathering in her lungs and literally drowning her.<br />
I remember where I was when my first boyfriend called me and said that at his sweet eighteen years of age he was too young for a commitment and the world crumbled under my feet.<br />
I remember where I was when my mom and dad told me that they had euthanized our ill dog whom I had had for as long as I could remember myself.<br />
I remember where I was at the moment when reports from the Twin Towers on 9/11 started flooding TV screens and our minds never to be deleted again.<br />
I remember where I was when the pregnancy test confirmed that I would be a mom for the first time in my life.<br />
I remember where I was when the very first scene of the book I'm working on kicked into my mind.<br />
I remember where I was when a friend showed and explained to me how emails work and blew my mind.<br />
I remember where I was when my younger child, racing with his sister, stumbled and fell slashing his forehead open to be mended again with five stitched in hospital.<br />
I remember where I was when saw my child laugh in his sleep this morning.<br />
I remember...Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-60009168712186012212012-09-01T14:44:00.000+02:002012-09-01T14:44:05.307+02:00Cat-o-meter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigV04KgONx6u_bQd5CGCWqoTp7V9tTyf0nX3EmORmFZme6Sc8QY1tqxFAZCU-0hYcmsnFnznbvIKwefzbrimk3b30ZvcALraY0EVn5ls3WRPumglcpGlf3Gml5h4DQf7wCzTqC9uEsYjI/s1600/182248_1633432361320_1286755_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigV04KgONx6u_bQd5CGCWqoTp7V9tTyf0nX3EmORmFZme6Sc8QY1tqxFAZCU-0hYcmsnFnznbvIKwefzbrimk3b30ZvcALraY0EVn5ls3WRPumglcpGlf3Gml5h4DQf7wCzTqC9uEsYjI/s320/182248_1633432361320_1286755_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Who needs a thermometer when one has twenty cats at hand? Today is roll-into-a-ball-and-snuggle-to-another-cat-for-warmth-day, which translates into human language as approximately 20 degrees Celsius. There.Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-34806363847313347202012-08-26T13:21:00.000+02:002012-08-30T18:37:10.075+02:00Live and learnJust when I thought I had seen about everything there is to see in a cat's life, having had at least fifty (and I'm not exaggerating) cats under our care during past ten years, life granted me another surprise.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAIjTmiFMG9zwbOkPd9Xsqqv5kJJNgXuEFFTzDLUqR122zvugqzSdk9xegcIcoKBKh22w2ffs6iJ9nI9ukEzT-K9YzZiZaaMAdlIXjXJ5prE_o1Zj6klgJOgQWKixbiwpjUsD4ZyrfaZQ/s1600/Snapshot_20120830.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAIjTmiFMG9zwbOkPd9Xsqqv5kJJNgXuEFFTzDLUqR122zvugqzSdk9xegcIcoKBKh22w2ffs6iJ9nI9ukEzT-K9YzZiZaaMAdlIXjXJ5prE_o1Zj6klgJOgQWKixbiwpjUsD4ZyrfaZQ/s400/Snapshot_20120830.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
We have several adult female cats living in our garden. Two of them, both Siamese pure-breeds, who happen to be a mother and a daughter, had kittens almost at the same time. The older one had five pure Siamese kittens, while the younger one had four black kittens by unknown father as none of our male cats is black. Up to now the older female has been a perfect mother, she even talked to her kittens and watched them very carefully at all times, whereas the younger one was an eternal awkward teenager, staying far from her litter and returning mostly to feed them. All was clear and settled until at one point the roles inverted and amplified! The older one not only became grumpy and careless of her own children, she started to keep them harshly at distance in spite of visibly accumulated milk in her breasts. And then the younger cat-mother not only kindly accepted the abandoned kittens out of her own free will (as you probably know, you can't force anything upon cats, they just don't give a damn), but allowed the adopted children to take her breast-milk along with her own kittens. I am utterly amazed by this change. Nature has peculiar twists and turns sometimes.Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-48011283665441841892012-08-12T11:49:00.002+02:002012-08-12T12:02:41.686+02:00A gift that keeps on givingDo you give yourself little gifts for birthdays? Or little treats for special occasions? Obviously my body was along the same lines and for my 35 birthday decided to give me a gift, something I've never had before. Before you get too excited, I must warn you that the body has a peculiar sense of humour, as it seems. It gave me a cyst. Not just any kind, but a vaginal cyst where episiotomy scar after the two childbirths was. The double scar has miraculously disappeared giving place to this formation that potentially could be even cancerogenous. Wow, my dear body, you shouldn't have! I would have gladly accepted any smaller gift, fewer wrinkles and better skin, maybe? Oh well, maybe next year then...Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-15718559329227281112012-08-08T18:44:00.003+02:002012-08-08T18:49:29.821+02:00Compulsive desire to impress<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdfjDiu6SVJNG3izJGK66nPp4vDcpBUhlX2tBC7V7ZSonZKgdNq67oTetzhlBarng3qaH4Fl9Phfu3t8Nk2tfUPX8bm1TVP2MuPblirhtDZkUhRw_bFbJe-_9RWGgwyTog7Lir58nHkFM/s1600/Too-many-people-spend-money-they-havent-earned-to-buy-things-they-dont-want-to-impress-people-they-dont-like-Will-Smith.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdfjDiu6SVJNG3izJGK66nPp4vDcpBUhlX2tBC7V7ZSonZKgdNq67oTetzhlBarng3qaH4Fl9Phfu3t8Nk2tfUPX8bm1TVP2MuPblirhtDZkUhRw_bFbJe-_9RWGgwyTog7Lir58nHkFM/s320/Too-many-people-spend-money-they-havent-earned-to-buy-things-they-dont-want-to-impress-people-they-dont-like-Will-Smith.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I've heard once that the person who tries to impress you is most probably already quite impressed by you, and this idea stuck with me. Now and then I catch myself thinking how to impress or at least not to leave a bad impression upon some particular person. And by that I can measure my personal standards. In retrospect I'm rather satisfied with my standards (i.e. people I'm trying to impress). Who are you trying to leave a good impression upon?Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-25551652371413414082012-08-04T15:53:00.003+02:002012-08-04T15:53:45.287+02:00Annoyed beyond measure<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Isn't it annoying when you finally find time and perfect circumstances, calm and quiet all around, for what you have been planning to do on the computer for ages and then that particular computer program jams so badly it has to be reinstalled? I am losing time, patience, perfect "weather" and inspiration! Argh...Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-4563817048529534832012-07-28T12:56:00.001+02:002012-07-28T12:56:19.820+02:00The eternal shining of a spotless mindYesterday I watched a 4 year old episode of Graham Norton's show (I love his show) with Jessica Biel and Mickey Rourke. I wish I could unsee it... Yuck and eww don't cover the feeling of muck Rourke's presence on that show left in my mind. He was drunk, not just slightly tipsy, but so drunk one could hardly follow the thread of his stumbling thoughts. Worse than that he was hitting on Biel so badly it was clear he was unaware that he's drunk, on TV, she's engaged and he's far from hotpants he used to be more than 20 years ago. I felt to sorry for Jessica who had to tolerate it and for Graham who had to save the situation all the time. I'm traumatized!Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-54449188672051431162012-07-23T00:15:00.002+02:002012-07-27T10:00:13.889+02:00Memories<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Out of the blue I remembered a person I hadn't seen for nearly twenty years. I remembered him on such a deep level and so vividly as if we'd met just yesterday. The crude truth is this person is no longer alive. We hadn't kept in touch for the past two decades. Not by choice, mind you, or maybe it was by choice, who can tell two decades later? And yet I suddenly experienced this wave of memories. Not memories of events, but rather of feelings, emotions, attitudes. Memories of meaning of this person. It's hard to forget someone who meant the world to you when you were little. Such feelings come from a realm where time is powerless.<br />
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For as long as I live I will carry his memory carved deep in me, whether I want it or not.<br />
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<br /></div>Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-61990241894139045442012-07-22T23:17:00.000+02:002012-07-22T23:17:18.395+02:00All you need is love pa-pa-ra-pa-pamIf you have love, you don't need to have anything else.<br />
If you don't have it, it doesn't matter much what else you do have.<br />
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James M. BarrieKarinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-40238149280109490702012-07-21T14:03:00.002+02:002012-07-21T14:03:56.678+02:00A surprising remedyI accidentally discovered that moistening mosquito stung parts of skin <span style="background-color: white;">with salted water </span><span style="background-color: white;">relieves the intolerable itching. After having my legs nearly perforated by mosquitoes in the garden I felt an almost immediate soothing after taking a bath with aromatic salts. Another time I tried simple kitchen salt with water and it worked just as well. I have no idea what chemical reaction goes on in the process, but as long as it works it's fine by me. </span>Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-20027890222961317642012-07-19T23:06:00.003+02:002012-07-19T23:06:46.582+02:00LifeLife is chaotic, unpredictable, frustrating, scary, fascinating, miraculous, sweet, bitter, immense, short, the strongest instinct you have and the last thing you give up. There is nothing besides life in this reality. But there is so much more beyond it.Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-88087760227008637212012-07-14T15:21:00.001+02:002012-07-14T19:12:01.936+02:00WILD35TAS #28<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">Husband and wife is like hand and eye.</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">If the hand gets hurt, the eye cries. </span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">If the eye cries, the hand wipes its tears. </span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; text-align: left;">- A Japanese saying </span>Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-72632556852161438072012-07-14T14:37:00.001+02:002012-07-14T14:37:17.625+02:00WILD35TAS #27On the road, everyone who drives slower than us is an idiot and everyone who drives faster than us is a maniac.Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-75591766962118158392012-07-10T21:35:00.001+02:002012-07-10T21:35:39.353+02:00WILD35TAS #26<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks to those who hated me,</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
you made me a stronger person.<br />
Thanks to those who loved me,<br />
you made my heart grow fonder.<br />
Thanks to those who envied me,<br />
you made my self-esteem grow stronger.<br />
Thanks to those who cared,<br />
you made me feel important.<br />
Thanks to those who entered my life,<br />
you made me who I am today.<br />
Thanks to those who left,<br />
you showed me that nothing lasts forever.<br />
Thanks to those who stayed,<br />
you showed me the true meaning of friendship.</span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></div>Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7937202267870319229.post-58022239715343050962012-07-10T21:17:00.001+02:002012-07-10T21:17:32.782+02:00WILD35TAS #25You're never too old to learn something stupid.Karinjuxishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08685893414922470016noreply@blogger.com0