With no real winter in the desert, our house never feels cozy. It always feels like a beach house. I miss having rugs in the house, especially traditional rugs such as Tibetan rugs or Persian rugs. I have to resort to IKEA rugs that are bright in color and light in material.

Look at this pretty rug:

hand knotted Tibetan rug

Up Against the Wall

this old lady didn’t turn her back to the world hoping that the man behind her shoulders would notice her and then maybe approach her and make her feel better. this old lady was having her morning espresso (probably doppio senza zucchero) and she chose to have it with her face turned to this ‘carlo’ wall.

Carlo Lives On

the old lady and carlo

Away – Bibs and Bottles

I have been forcibly away from my blog due to harsh conditions at work, but I’m back!

My friend P. and I are planning a baby shower for our friend R. who is expecting a girl in two months. I would love it if any of you had baby shower games or decoration ideas or gift ideas to share with us. It is my first baby shower experience. Ihe Internet is of great help, but I want tips from people who have actually had success planning and executing a baby shower.

Any ideas anyone?

Poem Written in 1998

The Solitary Worshipper

Probably twice I gazed at the dry clouds
At the greenest valleys and the river that surrounds
The robins sing their tunes with a melodious twist
The owls watch with a gray and hollow mist

Round their heads, the flowers sway with the breeze
As the gentlemen to the women say ‘would you please?’
The women with an ample nod of their heads say
‘Of course would you lead the way?’

The men’s chests swell with pride and so
The women’s hands they clasp, no intention of letting go
Now the robins have stopped and the band starts
For the dancers to whirl and swirl and capture hearts.

Then I turn my head to the river on the right
And a mob of bantam creatures catches my sight
They are reeling, are they dancing I wonder
They are scattered harmoniously here and yonder

They seem twirling around hand in hand
Enjoying the soft music of the humanistic band
It is a majestic portrait, endless beauty, and no harm
With the help of nature and its eternal charm,

I try to close my eyes but they are not responding to my will
My body might be moving but my heart is standing still
At the glory before my eyes and the perfection of it all
For not just ants are fluctuating but the trees standing tall,

The august hills and the royal flowers upon the scope
The dazzling tulips and lilies full of hope
The robins join in with the splendor of the melody
The owls are rushing forward, Good God could it be?

It not just looks and sounds like a dream
It feels and overwhelms like a dream
A daydream you adore but fear
You fear for it can’t be touched but yet is so near.

The sun is setting down and the horizon is mellow
A blend of the fiery red and the jovial yellow
The music is fading away whisper by whisper
The creatures are withdrawing and seem a little crisper

The hills and trees retiring to deep slumber
The resplendent flowers relax upon lumber
The night is falling now and the stars’ presence
To the sky grant the same effervescence

The clouds have faded and left the sky see-through
The men have stopped and are looking for something to do
The women are laughing and leaning with glee
Enjoying the most jocund of company

They flutter their eyelashes and at the men they wink
Which was more than enough to get them to think
Of the perfect place for them to seal the festive day
And spend their times so uniquely and so gay

They pack and leave the luscious fields deserted
Only the chills of the winds and the hooting of the owls to be traced
My bones squeak and my mind reels at its own speed
With all the masterpieces I have witnessed and the replay I need

Of my city’s perfect nature and the grandeur of man
And the harmony that existed, I being its faithful fan,
Its best admirer and worshipper in this life span.

For Aida and Nartan

reading 'lost and found' to aida and nartan

“…the boy didn’t know where it had come from but it began to follow him everywhere. the penguin looked sad and the boy thought it must be lost. so the boy decided to help the penguin find its way home. he checked in the lost and found office. but no one was missing a penguin. he asked some birds if they knew where the penguin came from. but they ignored him . some birds are like that. the boy asked his duck. but the duck floated away. he didn’t know. that night, the boy couldn’t sleep for disappointment. he wanted to help the penguin but he didn’t know how. the next morning he discovered that penguins come from the south pole. but how could he get there? he ran down to the harbour and asked a big shop to take them to the south pole. but his voice was much too small to be heard over the shop’s horn. so together, he and the penguin would row to the south pole. the boy took his rowboat out of the cupboard and they tested it for size and strength. they packed everything they would need…and together they pushed the rowboat out to sea. they rowed south for many days and nights with the boy telling stories all the way. the penguin listened to everything that the boy said. they floated through good weather and bad, when the waves were as big as mountains…until they came to the south pole. the boy was delighted, but the penguin said nothing. suddenly it looked sad again as the boy helped it out of the boat. the boy said goodbye and floated away. but as he looked back, the penguin looked sadder than ever. it felt strange to be on his own…and the more he thought the more he realised that he was making a big mistake. the penguin wasn’t lost. he was just lonely. quickly he turned the boat around and headed back to the south pole as fast as he could. at last he reached the pole again. but where was the penguin? the boy searched and searched but he was nowhere to be found. sadly the boy set off for home. there was no point telling stories because there was no one to listen, except the wind and the waves. but then the boy saw something in the water ahead of him. closer and closer he got, until he could see…the penguin! and so the boy and his friend went home together, talking of wonderful things all the way.” Lost and Found by Oliver Jeffers

Straight Curls

I was born with curly hair and there’s nothing that I can do that will change that fact. so, I decided to find the best product that will make me love my curls. It took me 29 years but I finally found what my hair has been looking for:

riga dritto by LUSH

Very Easy to Do Homemade Granola Bars

If you haven’t paid a serious and thorough visit to Sunday Suppers blog then you really are missing out on a lot in the world of cooking blogs. I tried their recipe for granola bars and the result was heavenly! Take a look at the pictures, and for the recipe click here

the granola mix before entering the oven


the granola cut into squares and packaged in handy plastic bags


the granola bars in bags resting in a basket on my kitchen table


the granola bars in bags resting in a cookie tin


when i am having bad stomachaches, only a cup of good hot tea can take that away

when i have a nightmarish night, only a cup of good hot tea can make me sleep

when i feel lonely and nostalgic, only a cup of good hot tea can assure me that i’m in the right place

when i feel in love and happy, only a cup of good hot tea can make the experience complete

Check the following tea shops:




where i grew up

i wrote this june 2009

where i grew up they had sandy beaches and sunshine nearly all year long. where i grew up we could walk outdoors & wear our hearts on our sleeves. where i grew up we had friends, bicycles and icecream all the time. where we grew up we didn’t have to study hard or worry about homework or any school work. where i grew up we had friends for teachers and teachers for parents. where i grew up we could keep the door to our house wide open and not worry about any intruders or danger. where i grew up we had seasonal fruits & vegetables & there was no need for organic grocery hunting. where i grew up we had smiles and hugs to express ourselves & long stretches of hot sand to stroll on and feel safe. where i grew up music was available. where i grew up we had not a lot of money but a lot of space for children. where i grew up we had friendly neighbors who shared a generous portion of their lunches with other neighbors. where i grew up we had breezy mornings, sunny afternoons & refreshing evenings. where i grew up we had a lot to consider but little to think of. where i grew up we didn’t have to worry about society & misconduct & misjudgements. where i grew up we had tourists every summer to give a special flavor to our school breaks. where i grew up we had a lot of charcoal-grilled burgers & icy cold sodas. where i grew up we had older boys to fancy, even if none of them liked us back as girls. where i grew up we had NKOTB dreams & sing-alongs. where i grew up there was meaning to having sisters and brothers. where i grew up we had trees lining our street & a nice swimming pool to fight off the heat.

but where i grew up was not my home country.

in my home country there was bomb shellings & underground shelters. in my home country there were families being torn apart and children orphaned. in my home country there were useless wars & bloody memories & danger as the motto of the day. in my home country there was little to eat & lots to worry about and consider. in my home country there was insecurity & fear. in my home country there were loud cold nights on cement floors. in my home country there were brothers shooting at each other. in my home country there wasb coldheartedness & greed & blind politicism. in my home country there was no playground & no bicycle & no tree. in my home country there were no smiles. in my home country there were hungry kids, tired elders & powerless parents. in my home country youth didn’t defeat death. in my home country there were sleepless people.  in my home country there was injustice & murder. in my home country people were losing values & morals. in my country everything was grey, there were no villages or cities or towns. in my home country schools were shelters and studying was a foolish hope. in my home country there was a lot of time that was made sure to be killed. in my home country there were no souls.

where i grew up was a phase. now i am back in my home country where people are still trying to recover from a hateful war, where people are still trying to rebuild a faintly majestic pre-war past, where youth is trying to regain its power & parents are trying to combat their phobia, where newborn children are the only hope for a better tomorrow, where nature is still trying to restore its natural ways, where rubble still covers a lot of neighborhoods, where survival is the motto of the day, where everybody knows that the past is history now but it can’t be shredded into pieces and thrown to the winds to take away to faraway lands, where people are still getting used to birds twittering and where birds are learning to twitter again, where people are trying to sleep a full 7-hour stretch, where children are learning the meaning of cautious trust, where i am learning not to be a stranger, where i am trying not to feel guilty for having lived a different phase, a phase that maybe i didn’t ask for but was lucky to have. i am still learning. but i appreciate every day that passes by living in my country, my home country, the only place that knows me as much as i could possibly know a place.