<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090</id><updated>2011-12-03T20:28:20.499+04:00</updated><title type='text'>The moments with a lot of views from handwork exebitions</title><subtitle type='html'>I like handworks from my childhood. Knitting, Crocheting and beading are very interesting for me. 

Handworks from Azerbaijan</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-115684950388185711</id><published>2006-08-29T15:38:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T16:15:24.876+05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Not-To-Do List from 52 Projects</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.52projects.com/52_projects/2005/09/a_nottodo_list.html"&gt;A Not-To-Do List&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today is the day you start your project.&lt;br /&gt;Wake up. Make your coffee. Sit down. Get to work.&lt;br /&gt;Now, it should be that simple. Wake up and get to work.&lt;br /&gt;But there are many distractions. Mental and otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;So this is NOT a to-do list. This is a not-to-do list. You don't need to check anything off, because these are things YOU&lt;br /&gt;ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO.&lt;br /&gt;Do not check your email.&lt;br /&gt;Do not go to nytimes.com.&lt;br /&gt;Do not decide to organize your cd rack.&lt;br /&gt;Do not turn on the television.&lt;br /&gt;Do not clip your nails.&lt;br /&gt;Do not stare at your bald spot in the mirror and begin to calculate how much time your hair has left.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start catching up on the DVDs that have arrived from Netflix.&lt;br /&gt;Do not update your Netflix queue.&lt;br /&gt;Do not Google all your Exes.&lt;br /&gt;Do not Google yourself.&lt;br /&gt;Do not dust the house.&lt;br /&gt;Do not sweep the floors.&lt;br /&gt;Do not take out the trash.&lt;br /&gt;Do not get sucked into the argument when your significant other starts screaming about the fact that you drank the last of the milk and even though you said you would get more you didn't. Just apologize, apologize, and then apologize again. (But don't be tempted to apologize "for being such a horrible person" – that is a sign that you are getting drawn into a bigger dust-up. Stay on target with your apology, explain that you have serious work to do, and get back to your project.)&lt;br /&gt;Do not decide to make yourself an elaborate lunch.&lt;br /&gt;Do not take a nap.&lt;br /&gt;Do not change the cat litter.&lt;br /&gt;Do not decide to figure out the calorie count of your recent meals.&lt;br /&gt;Do not pay your bills.&lt;br /&gt;Do not balance your checkbook.&lt;br /&gt;Do not freak out that you have no money.&lt;br /&gt;Do not go into the bathroom and give your Academy Award acceptance speech.&lt;br /&gt;Do not put on Prince and party like it's 1999. (Well, okay, maybe ONCE, just to get you fired up about your project.)&lt;br /&gt;Do not start going through your closet.&lt;br /&gt;Do not decide to floss.&lt;br /&gt;Do not organize your spice rack.&lt;br /&gt;Do not update your address book.&lt;br /&gt;Do not make a list of things to do.&lt;br /&gt;Do not watch Oprah.&lt;br /&gt;Do not listen to NPR.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start to think you don't have what it takes to actually do your project.&lt;br /&gt;Do not read any further on this post – caught you! Stop reading now and get to work on your project.&lt;br /&gt;Do not check what time the movie is playing later.&lt;br /&gt;Do not decide to send an angry email to that annoying friend who recently pissed you off.&lt;br /&gt;Do not play with the cats.&lt;br /&gt;Do not clip your nose hairs.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start trying to organize a dinner party.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start wondering if that mole that seems a little bigger than the last time you checked it might be skin cancer.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start going through all the papers on your desk.&lt;br /&gt;Do not make a list of all the things you have to get done at work.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start thinking you are never going to finish.&lt;br /&gt;Do not make a quick run to the grocery store.&lt;br /&gt;Do not search for gray hairs.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start fantasizing about sex.&lt;br /&gt;Do not decide to make a call to your significant other to tell him or her that you don't think you've been getting any, and that you better damn well get some tonight (you know, because that one works every time).&lt;br /&gt;Do not go to IMDB to see who that actor was in that movie you saw the other night.&lt;br /&gt;Or what that girl from that show from way back when is doing now.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start perusing your own bookshelves.&lt;br /&gt;Do not organize your computer files.&lt;br /&gt;Do not clean out your inbox.&lt;br /&gt;Do not click into the online gossip sites.&lt;br /&gt;Do not pick your nose.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start reading old letters from old flames.&lt;br /&gt;Do not crack open a beer.&lt;br /&gt;Do not pluck your eyebrows.&lt;br /&gt;Do not to give yourself a facial.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start going through your photos.&lt;br /&gt;Do not return your phone calls.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start reading your old journal entries.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start thinking about how your project is lame.&lt;br /&gt;Do not scrub the tub.&lt;br /&gt;Do not clean the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;Do not open a bottle of wine.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start wading through all the magazines you subscribe to but never read.&lt;br /&gt;Do not decide to start a screenplay (unless, of course, that is your project).&lt;br /&gt;Do not post to your blog.&lt;br /&gt;Do not pull the ATM receipts out of your wallet and start entering withdrawals into your checkbook.&lt;br /&gt;Do not get up and keep getting yourself a glass of water.&lt;br /&gt;Do not refill the ice trays.&lt;br /&gt;Do not do the dishes.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start picking off the wax on your candle holders.&lt;br /&gt;Do not start worrying about all the time you've already wasted.&lt;br /&gt;There are a million more things that could be on this list, but remember, it's not a to-do list, so it doesn't matter if something is missing -- you are NOT supposed to be doing these things. Just get to work on your project.&lt;br /&gt;--Jeffrey Yamaguchi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-115684950388185711?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/115684950388185711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=115684950388185711' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/115684950388185711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/115684950388185711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2006/08/not-to-do-list-from-52-projects.html' title='A Not-To-Do List from 52 Projects'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-112237756385020768</id><published>2005-07-26T15:58:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T16:32:43.856+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning Indian Culture</title><content type='html'>Now the number of my group's member is about 75. But they don't like post at all. Maybe all of them are from India. They know all about India, so it is not interesting them at all. Ok, i 'll post my thoughts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-112237756385020768?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/112237756385020768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=112237756385020768' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/112237756385020768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/112237756385020768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2005/07/learning-indian-culture.html' title='Learning Indian Culture'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-111149440332425500</id><published>2005-03-22T16:23:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2005-07-19T18:56:22.743+05:00</updated><title type='text'>My daughter Lucy</title><content type='html'>After some months Atleast I can publish our pictures. &lt;br /&gt;I havent time for posting last months. So what is new in my life?&lt;br /&gt;We had had a dog with name Toby. Some days ago i took a kitten, we chosed a name Lucy for her. She is so funny, so playful. I dont know why people think that animal doesnt have soul. If she wants to climb to the table, i dont let her do that, then she runs away as says me that "Ok, it wasnt important for me". But after 4 min she is again near the table with new jump. With her coming to our family we changed. I can't be angry to anybody. If I stroke her I feel how her heart beats, she is as my daughter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-111149440332425500?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/111149440332425500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=111149440332425500' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/111149440332425500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/111149440332425500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2005/03/my-daughter-lucy.html' title='My daughter Lucy'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-110821720005991620</id><published>2005-02-12T17:51:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2005-02-12T18:06:40.060+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank you Rekha very much!</title><content type='html'>I tryed to read a blog of Rekha and SURPRISE!! SHe wrote me blog's name in the first line among of other blogs. I was happy, so many years i'm trying to  meet indians, atleast one of them looked at  me.&lt;br /&gt;Rekha, bahut bahut dhanyavaad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-110821720005991620?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/110821720005991620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=110821720005991620' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110821720005991620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110821720005991620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2005/02/thank-you-rekha-very-much.html' title='Thank you Rekha very much!'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-110786939034990848</id><published>2005-02-07T23:28:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2005-02-08T17:29:50.350+04:00</updated><title type='text'>My journay</title><content type='html'>Hello, i'm back from  my journay.. that was a virtual journay to myself, i just sitted and thought about my life. Who am I? Am i happy? Can i catch all wonderful moments of my life??&lt;br /&gt;Could i see all of them?? What is the most important thing in my life? &lt;br /&gt;Can i love people around of me? Was my love enough for them? &lt;br /&gt;there are a lot of questions, and .. answers. &lt;br /&gt;this year i understood only one (ONE) moment -- EVERYTHING HAS ITS REASON. &lt;br /&gt;Music of the evening: "Mere ghar aayi ek" from movie "Kabhi Kabhi" Lata&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-110786939034990848?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/110786939034990848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=110786939034990848' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110786939034990848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110786939034990848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2005/02/my-journay.html' title='My journay'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-110752741767502079</id><published>2005-02-04T18:15:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2005-02-05T13:57:27.053+04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sleepless night. </title><content type='html'>So I could read my dairy and thought a lot about the life. &lt;br /&gt;I have to do my love to India more active. My hindi – azeri conversational book is getting ready. It includes basic words, colors, the names of relatives, months, days of the week, and etc. If you want to have it don’t hesitate write me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-110752741767502079?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/110752741767502079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=110752741767502079' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110752741767502079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110752741767502079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2005/02/sleepless-night.html' title='The Sleepless night. '/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-110743032697508775</id><published>2005-02-03T15:32:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2005-02-04T18:13:06.180+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kabhi khushi kabhi gham</title><content type='html'>Little sadness, little happiness.&lt;br /&gt;There is a proverb in azeri: wedding and funeral are brother and sister.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I knew that my friend's daughter was born. It was so great happiness for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I have read&lt;a href="http://rekhs.rediffblogs.com/"&gt;Rekha's webblog&lt;/a&gt;a.&lt;br /&gt;There were a line about deeath of Amrish Puri.&lt;br /&gt;Dear Amrish Puri, let your soul has the eternal peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-110743032697508775?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/110743032697508775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=110743032697508775' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110743032697508775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110743032697508775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2005/02/kabhi-khushi-kabhi-gham.html' title='Kabhi khushi kabhi gham'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-110752571067420280</id><published>2005-01-26T17:59:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2005-02-04T18:01:50.673+04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jai Bharat!</title><content type='html'>Dear India, happy Republic day to You. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-110752571067420280?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/110752571067420280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=110752571067420280' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110752571067420280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110752571067420280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2005/01/jai-bharat.html' title='Jai Bharat!'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-110690917568191957</id><published>2005-01-10T13:29:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2005-02-03T13:06:45.710+04:00</updated><title type='text'>My  learning India.</title><content type='html'>I have been in Library. I borrowed a lot of books about India:&lt;br /&gt;1. Humayun Kabir Indian cuilture .Moscow. 1960&lt;br /&gt;2. History of India from 1905 -1955. Moscow 1964.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-110690917568191957?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/110690917568191957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=110690917568191957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110690917568191957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110690917568191957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2005/01/my-learning-india.html' title='My  learning India.'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-110475237937647739</id><published>2005-01-03T15:24:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2005-01-03T15:41:40.123+04:00</updated><title type='text'>The new year!</title><content type='html'>We have been at home 3 days: 31st of December, 1st and 2nd of January.&lt;br /&gt;On 31st of December I prepared presents with my sons for my nices. there were 6 presents, it was funny and interesting moments for my sons.&lt;br /&gt;We visit our parents, wished them the happy year.&lt;br /&gt;I dont know why but on 1st of January i thought something has changed in my life. there were new view to my life and to people around of me. Maybe it is really something happed at our lives.&lt;br /&gt;I dont know. &lt;br /&gt;But from this year I would like to start our centre. What kind of centre it'll be I write you the next time.&lt;br /&gt;but actually i dont know when this next time 'll be.&lt;br /&gt;Be happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-110475237937647739?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/110475237937647739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=110475237937647739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110475237937647739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110475237937647739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2005/01/new-year.html' title='The new year!'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-110752524179828003</id><published>2004-11-28T17:50:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2005-07-19T19:20:57.486+05:00</updated><title type='text'>My son’s first medal</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1129/368/1600/om101.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1129/368/320/om101.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a competition in Baku in 28th of November. They (my son and his girl friend) danced 4 dances: cha-cha, jive, vals and quick-step. So they were in the second place, and got medals. &lt;br /&gt;It was their first victory. &lt;br /&gt;From january they’ll dance 6 dances in the next competition (samba and rumba too). I was so excited.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-110752524179828003?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/110752524179828003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=110752524179828003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110752524179828003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/110752524179828003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/11/my-sons-first-medal.html' title='My son’s first medal'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-109540458385982715</id><published>2004-09-17T11:49:00.001+05:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T16:42:57.516+04:00</updated><title type='text'>The new study year 2004-2005</title><content type='html'>From 15th of September my children went to school. It is very hard  with our living conditions to make their clothes clean and well, but i'm tring. We havent yet gas, water, electricity. We olny have a house. But i havent right to be upset with it. I dont let Mushfiq to be so too. This house lets him to work much with building works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://us.f1.yahoofs.com/groups/marriedpeoplespenpalclub/Konul/my+sons.jpg?bc3XBQCBo2foeLXc"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is very good in the modern world, where everybody is living indoors, without fresh air, land and sand. Our house is near the Caspian sea. it is not important to go near the sea, one can have sun bath in our yard. it is really good for children's healthy.&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy with my smaller son, i always thought that he'll not like reading and learning. last 3 days he came from school and doing his homework till night. &lt;br /&gt;well it is like our new study year 'll be very hard. i like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-109540458385982715?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/109540458385982715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=109540458385982715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/109540458385982715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/109540458385982715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/09/new-study-year-2004-2005.html' title='The new study year 2004-2005'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-109049209282433899</id><published>2004-07-01T15:16:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-07-22T15:28:12.823+05:00</updated><title type='text'>the new house</title><content type='html'>the the 1st of July we are living at our new house.&lt;br /&gt;it is not ready yet, but  is our. so we are happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-109049209282433899?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/109049209282433899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=109049209282433899' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/109049209282433899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/109049209282433899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/07/new-house.html' title='the new house'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108721106930019753</id><published>2004-06-14T15:45:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-14T16:04:29.300+05:00</updated><title type='text'>A clairvoyant boy</title><content type='html'>After work I called up Otgun, they came and took me up from my office. They took Elton with them too. Elton is the smaller son our guests from Russia, he is 11. His father and mother are azeries, but they liked that name. &lt;br /&gt;My sons and Elton ran around of us, laugh and were so happy. Otgun and I spouk about Elton. He is a very strange boy, not like his elder brother. It is like he knows everything, he was an old man and suddenly he was born again. With his 11 years old age he can talk about everything in the world.  After some days until he is near us, I’ll try to write about his thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;We took a pic .. and again it was near the Dove monument.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108721106930019753?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108721106930019753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108721106930019753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108721106930019753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108721106930019753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/06/clairvoyant-boy.html' title='A clairvoyant boy'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108720941277457342</id><published>2004-06-11T15:34:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-14T15:36:52.773+05:00</updated><title type='text'>A waking up</title><content type='html'>Today I fell off. There was a steel stair near our building. Every morning I use it, as usually I ran and didn’t took from banisters… It was bad for me. I don’t know why but I remember all my fallings, it was always so unexpected, as a waking up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108720941277457342?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108720941277457342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108720941277457342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108720941277457342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108720941277457342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/06/waking-up.html' title='A waking up'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108720895647086838</id><published>2004-06-08T15:26:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-14T15:29:16.470+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Our guests</title><content type='html'>Today we had guests from Russia, it was wonderful, also little uncomfortable. But after little time we could understand each other. A family with 2 sons (at the same age as my sons) came to us every year for summer holidays. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108720895647086838?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108720895647086838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108720895647086838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108720895647086838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108720895647086838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/06/our-guests.html' title='Our guests'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108720809042825039</id><published>2004-06-07T15:12:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-14T15:17:54.436+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy birthday!!</title><content type='html'>It was Otgun’s birthday today. We were meet each other on 7th June in 1990. &lt;br /&gt;Today he was not so much happy. Now he was 36. Of  course only kids can be happy in birthday. Because they don’t understand that getting old.&lt;br /&gt;My cough is well, I mean I getting well. My heroism didn’t last long, after 3 days regularly taking I forgot them once and remembered only after a day. But I didn’t say Otgun about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108720809042825039?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108720809042825039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108720809042825039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108720809042825039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108720809042825039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/06/happy-birthday.html' title='Happy birthday!!'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108616280248581608</id><published>2004-06-01T12:48:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-02T12:53:22.486+05:00</updated><title type='text'>My heroism </title><content type='html'>I felt myself very bad. It was because of those medicine. After  work I called our doctor up and she called my cough as Pharyngits, it was an illness for a teacher, who speaks a lot. I have spoken last years from 9 till 19 00, without break, so my hard work gave its flowers. But I never give an attention to my illnesses, they came , waitied my attention and soon dissapear with disappointment. Now I have to take 5 medicines 4 times in a day, no hot (tea) and cold (ice-cream) meals. &lt;br /&gt;Oh wonderful. Once I have to do something heroic for my family and the nearest people. So I’m doing my the bravest deed.&lt;br /&gt;When I wote these lines I remembered my father. He is 57, he hasn’t any injection in his life, he didn’t take any medicine too. I’m so as he.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108616280248581608?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108616280248581608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108616280248581608' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108616280248581608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108616280248581608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/06/my-heroism.html' title='My heroism '/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108616242837588526</id><published>2004-05-31T12:45:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-02T12:47:08.376+05:00</updated><title type='text'>My  cough</title><content type='html'>I had a cough, sometimes it began and didn’t stop. Otgun was at a drug store and bought for ma a lot of medicine. I don’t like to take medicine. It gives me the feeling of weakness. It is like my body is controlled not by myself, but by those medicine. But otgun made me to take them, and I gave him a word to take them in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108616242837588526?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108616242837588526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108616242837588526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108616242837588526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108616242837588526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/05/my-cough.html' title='My  cough'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108583479303803826</id><published>2004-05-29T17:45:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-05-29T17:46:33.036+05:00</updated><title type='text'>hello</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108583479303803826?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108583479303803826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108583479303803826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108583479303803826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108583479303803826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/05/hello.html' title='hello'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108616225091735588</id><published>2004-05-28T12:42:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-02T12:44:10.916+05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Independence day</title><content type='html'>It was the day of Independence in my country. So we were at home, we did a lot of home works. I watered my flowers, they were so wonderful and with many new and green lists. My cactuses had many little cactuses, this year I tried to plant violet. It is like my 3 new violets liked my cares and didn’t die, they have a lot of lists , and 1 violet flower. I was  so happy with that. I sited near the and meditate with their presene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108616225091735588?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108616225091735588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108616225091735588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108616225091735588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108616225091735588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/05/independence-day.html' title='The Independence day'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108616209909022831</id><published>2004-05-27T13:37:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-09-17T12:54:29.406+05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dove</title><content type='html'>I have waited Otgun and sons at 19 00, we went to the Dove, that was a monument what was a symbol of my city. My sons were happy, after we have taken a photo near the monument.  We have bought a lot of ice cream. &lt;br /&gt;http://konul1.narod.ru/dove.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108616209909022831?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108616209909022831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108616209909022831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108616209909022831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108616209909022831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/05/dove.html' title='The Dove'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108608149648057711</id><published>2004-05-11T14:17:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T14:18:16.480+05:00</updated><title type='text'>The smell of Acacia</title><content type='html'>Today on the way to EDU I have seen a blooming acacia. It smelt so wonderful. I don’t know why, but from childhood I liked this smell more than others. Is it possible to keep smells with us forever? Maybe after that one can hate this smell. Anyway what is a smell? Of course a smell is one of  the 5 senses. The smell as other senses helped us thousand years ago to understand where we were and was everything well with us. A  little baby doesn’t stop only with touching things, he have to smell and taste them. it helps him to learn the world. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108608149648057711?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108608149648057711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108608149648057711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108608149648057711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108608149648057711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/05/smell-of-acacia.html' title='The smell of Acacia'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108608139746703739</id><published>2004-05-09T14:15:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T14:16:37.466+05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Beshbarmak - the wonderful place in Azerbaijan. &lt;br /&gt;We were in Beshbarmak on Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108608139746703739?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108608139746703739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108608139746703739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108608139746703739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108608139746703739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/05/beshbarmak-wonderful-place-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108608082485730285</id><published>2004-05-07T13:48:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T14:07:04.856+05:00</updated><title type='text'>My English</title><content type='html'>It was a wonderful weather today. Sunny. but little cool. I like this very much. &lt;br /&gt;I wasn't busy today at all. AT 9 o'clock I had 2 students with AutoCAD. They are  my last students. After them I'll not teach. Today I do programming works and learned little about a structure oif the  programme language. Sometimes it is dull, because if I don't control it in real  situation, as theory it's not interesting dor me. Today I understood something  very interesting for me in programming. That made me to feel happy.&lt;br /&gt;Last days I haven't time for my diary. When I have time I was surfing and  reading web pages about google.groups. It's very interesting. A lot of people  around of the world speaking about the religion or God. Reading those dialogs,  the dream to answer to them, dont to be able to answer them as well as in my  native language. It helps me to destroy the boundary of my English, and to look  around through this fence. There is no book in the world what can help me with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108608082485730285?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108608082485730285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108608082485730285' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108608082485730285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108608082485730285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/05/my-english.html' title='My English'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108607962679683390</id><published>2004-05-01T13:45:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T13:47:06.796+05:00</updated><title type='text'> *   *   *</title><content type='html'>I'm so sorry for delay in updating. But I hadn't time for updating.&lt;br /&gt;Ok now about my moments. Sometimes I'm so rude and angry, it can happen once a  month or 2 months. I so much want to lose this feeling. to be a patince and  polite human -- that is my ideal. Like i was a turkish soldier in my past life. &lt;br /&gt;today i couldn't get up early. but i was at work on time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108607962679683390?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108607962679683390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108607962679683390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607962679683390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607962679683390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/05/blog-post.html' title=' *   *   *'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108607387461912746</id><published>2004-04-30T12:05:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T12:11:14.620+05:00</updated><title type='text'>To work hard</title><content type='html'>After this day I understood what is a hard work day. I was so tired, left work  2 hours early. lied in bed and couldnt do anything.  But after some time i prepared plow -- a meal with rice, but children were not  happy with it, because plow hasnt chicken. &lt;br /&gt;I have read some articles from "Times" and "Newsweek". I 'm happy that it is not  important to pick up a word in my dictionary. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108607387461912746?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108607387461912746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108607387461912746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607387461912746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607387461912746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/04/to-work-hard.html' title='To work hard'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108607329271836292</id><published>2004-04-29T11:58:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T12:01:32.716+05:00</updated><title type='text'>German measles - is it dangerous for boys?</title><content type='html'>Yesterday wasnt so good for me. Very busy.My sons had a infection illness with the name German measles. It is like allergy. So they had to stay at home 4 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108607329271836292?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108607329271836292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108607329271836292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607329271836292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607329271836292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/04/german-measles-is-it-dangerous-for.html' title='German measles - is it dangerous for boys?'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108607278100483656</id><published>2004-04-26T11:49:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T11:53:01.003+05:00</updated><title type='text'>my weekend.</title><content type='html'>As all weekends I got up late. Fortunately it was no students or home works. I  prepared meal, looked at the faces of my children attentively. My elder son is  clever, he wants to say his views about everything what happen near him. But  junior son is a joker, he tries to find a joke for every words. It is  interesting that they both were born in the same family and grow in the same  family, but they are so different.  I have began my beading work since Friday. It is interesting too. This work is  as my sons.  With the same starts the results are so different.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108607278100483656?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108607278100483656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108607278100483656' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607278100483656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607278100483656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/04/my-weekend.html' title='my weekend.'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108607246254413883</id><published>2004-04-25T11:46:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T11:47:42.543+05:00</updated><title type='text'>The hard day</title><content type='html'>The day was so terrible, I don’t know why. First of all it was a news about death of our work mates’ father. So many workers were not at work, it was very  dull. I couldn’t ask my questions to our programmer. After lunch it was an  accident, so we (Samira and I ) were shocked. Our work day was over with hard  feelings.&lt;br /&gt;I had a student at home. In today’s lesson we have been learned how to change  faces and pictures with Photoshop filtrs. It was so funny and with a lot of  laugh. Mushfiq joined to us too. We changed my workmates pictures and my pictures too. It was so easy to forget my hard day.&lt;br /&gt;I have seen some movies on Saturday night. First of those was Brigit Joe’s dairy. It was about an English girl.  The second was “Best friend’s wedding” with Julia Roberts in English. It was too much for me for one night to watch some movies. Week days I haven’t  interest to watch any movie by TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108607246254413883?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108607246254413883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108607246254413883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607246254413883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607246254413883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/04/hard-day.html' title='The hard day'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108607201348222841</id><published>2004-04-22T11:38:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T11:40:13.483+05:00</updated><title type='text'>My work</title><content type='html'>Today I was very busy. In edu I couldn't sit and read my English book  (Andrew Neiderman "Duplicates").There were a lot of questions and problems in  our programme, i had to notice them, to explaine the method of working to these  accountants.&lt;br /&gt;After lunch I had some students, after our programmist helped me with some  problems. Everything is not so easy as I thought. But also I felt after some  weeks I'll be able to work on my own. &lt;br /&gt;Today it was said me that from tomorrow I'll be in other office. And I'll not  have any responsibility in computer courses, but in my programming work.&lt;br /&gt;It is fine also it 's little hard me to leave my section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108607201348222841?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108607201348222841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108607201348222841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607201348222841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607201348222841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/04/my-work.html' title='My work'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108607175453764174</id><published>2004-04-18T11:34:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T11:35:54.536+05:00</updated><title type='text'>The weekend</title><content type='html'>Samira have made design work for theatre, what situated near our office. So Theatre's Administrator invited us to today's performance. It was a funny azeri comedy. But even a comedy has a moment full of sorrow and sadness. We took pictures. We walked home, Mushfiq said after the performance it is not good to go by bus.&lt;br /&gt;It is said a wise man has to speak with himself. It must be very interesting for  him. But I don’t feel myself so, it’s interesting for me to read about other humans, their feelings, Through this readingwriting I can discover those sides  of my soul, what I even didn't know.&lt;br /&gt;Today my mother came back from the country. She was tired and thin from all  these troubles. SHe said that it was hard to understand why he died, he was 37.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108607175453764174?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108607175453764174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108607175453764174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607175453764174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607175453764174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/04/weekend.html' title='The weekend'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108607127530987153</id><published>2004-04-17T11:23:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T11:27:55.310+05:00</updated><title type='text'>The wonderful moment!</title><content type='html'>Today I had promotion in the work, I waited that a year, so it is not for me a surprise.&lt;br /&gt;It was children's dance classes today. We (Mushfiq and I) took children from  classes and decided to go to see Seva with her baby.  Seva was good now, but after a lot of injections now her liver swallowed and she  has to take medicine for that. &lt;br /&gt;I took a baby in my arms, that was unique feeling of safe and eternity, in this  moment it looked like the time stopped for a baby, she was so little and quiet.  It's worth to go through the death for this moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108607127530987153?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108607127530987153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108607127530987153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607127530987153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607127530987153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/04/wonderful-moment.html' title='The wonderful moment!'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108607022183860806</id><published>2004-04-15T11:02:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T11:10:21.840+05:00</updated><title type='text'>The day with meaning.</title><content type='html'>This evening I had the quietest day in my life. I had news that my uncle - Mother's junior brother had died, so my mother has gone to the village . I had to stay with my sister in the hospital today. &lt;br /&gt;My uncle has died and my sister and I are very sad. &lt;br /&gt;Human life is like a drop when it begins to fall. When it will end its falling, it's hard to say.Every time I always feel that something hasn't been said or done yet. When I  don't feel it, then maybe it will be my death.&lt;br /&gt;Mushfiq and my sons saw me off to the hospital. I have spent a wonderful evening  in my life in this hospital. &lt;br /&gt;My sister and I were in her ward. It was a cool spring day and the trees were  green and with blooming flowers. &lt;br /&gt;She believed that she had died and had seen something . "I returned from the &lt;br /&gt;last point, there was a way to death". Frankly, I didn't know that things were so serious with her and felt ashamed for my negligence.&lt;br /&gt;There was a French film on TV about a dieing man from Canada.&lt;br /&gt;So was the day. I don't know how to call, a philosophical or some sort of a &lt;br /&gt;depression, but there was something light and bright, which gave my heart warm feelings.&lt;br /&gt;Oh! How can I save these wonderful feelings in my heart forever. Can I? &lt;br /&gt;Why do wonderful moments always come to an end even. Poems, films, tales, books, life, even ice-cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108607022183860806?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108607022183860806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108607022183860806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607022183860806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108607022183860806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/04/day-with-meaning.html' title='The day with meaning.'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108606946560772891</id><published>2004-04-11T10:49:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-06-01T10:57:45.606+05:00</updated><title type='text'>My sister.</title><content type='html'>My weeekend was wonderful. We got up very early and run to the sea shore. It was a sunny morning, my husband Mushfiq and sons were happy to be near the Sea. At the way to the Sea I asked questions about Russian to my sons, their Russian is not enaugh good.&lt;br /&gt;At home I tryed to tide up and prepared meal for sunday. After 2 o'clock I was at hospital to be with my sister. she had a baby at 2nd of April. But from this date she and her baby had fever.&lt;br /&gt;I was near Seva. She was so pale and every hour she had many injection. I have seen a baby too. Oh poor thing, she sleeped after some injections too.&lt;br /&gt;But I was so happy that now they are fine and in safe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108606946560772891?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108606946560772891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108606946560772891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108606946560772891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108606946560772891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/04/my-sister.html' title='My sister.'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7148090.post-108583879065294860</id><published>2004-04-05T18:49:00.000+05:00</published><updated>2004-05-31T14:59:52.330+05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is to love wonderful?!</title><content type='html'>8:03pm - the day was normal.&lt;br /&gt;My smaller son Omurtay falled in love with his dance girl Nurlana. But a week &lt;br /&gt;ago I have found a dance classes near my office and now he is angry because he &lt;br /&gt;couldn't see Nurlana.&lt;br /&gt;at the way to home I asked him "DO you want to see Nurlana?"&lt;br /&gt;He nodded his head. So we were as two detectives, who were hidden among of tree, &lt;br /&gt;and waiting when their classes 'll be over. &lt;br /&gt;* * *&lt;br /&gt;To fall in love is so wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;Is it so wonderful at age of 10.&lt;br /&gt;When your parents would like to take you apart from this girl.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, how hard to be at age of 10 and fall in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7148090-108583879065294860?l=themoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/feeds/108583879065294860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7148090&amp;postID=108583879065294860' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108583879065294860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7148090/posts/default/108583879065294860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themoments.blogspot.com/2004/04/is-to-love-wonderful.html' title='Is to love wonderful?!'/><author><name>Konul</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vEe29exsZXY/Sx9mvR3XSwI/AAAAAAAABV4/LFvaxzY_MhY/S220/koni-b.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
