<?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-27944531</id><updated>2011-06-07T23:45:48.555-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Curiozitate</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-1197481958885772918</id><published>2009-03-17T23:49:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T23:55:25.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mi-e atat de dor!!!</title><content type='html'>MAMA &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/D3eTPDgUsIA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/D3eTPDgUsIA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-1197481958885772918?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/1197481958885772918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=1197481958885772918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/1197481958885772918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/1197481958885772918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2009/03/mi-e-atat-de-dor.html' title='Mi-e atat de dor!!!'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-248394360543724534</id><published>2008-08-13T09:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T09:50:54.353-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Au trecut 2 ani...</title><content type='html'>:-( Mami, imi lipsesti atat de mult!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-248394360543724534?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/248394360543724534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=248394360543724534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/248394360543724534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/248394360543724534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2008/08/au-trecut-2-ani.html' title='Au trecut 2 ani...'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-8856181389279415403</id><published>2007-11-30T20:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T22:10:17.255-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Revenire...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LW6e32BrhH8/R1D48zOhuCI/AAAAAAAAAHg/Uhnxd10OvOo/s1600-R/Halloween1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138880898256713762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_LW6e32BrhH8/R1D48zOhuCI/AAAAAAAAAHg/CGeHOlbpHec/s200/Halloween1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Acum o saptamana am vorbit in fata a vreo 15 persoane despre bucuria de a fi parinte. Iata ce le-am spus:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acesta este fiul meu Robert - am aratat un tablou - si datorita lui sunt fericita in fiecare zi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu obisnuiam sa rad prea mult, insa in ultimele 3 luni de sarcina am ras cat pentru toti anii dinainte. Radeam fara motiv, cate 5 minute pana cand ma durea burta de atata ras. Radeam cand sotul meu misca un deget in fata mea, radeam acasa, la serviciu, oriunde. Colegul meu de birou, Ricky, un tanar de 24 de ani era ingrozit ca as putea naste la birou, declansand travaliul de atata ras :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma voi intoarce la aceasta parte de a fi parinte , insa va voi povesti alte experiente parintesti: dupa ce Robert s-a nascut, in primele 2 luni am fost ca un robot: schimbam scutece, hraneam bebelusul, ii faceam baie, il leganam. Totusi omul din mine intreba : de ce plange cand ii schimb scutecul, il ranesc? de ce nu vrea sa manance, laptele meu nu e bun? cat de des sa-i fac baie? Eu stiu cand vreau sa fac baie, cum as putea sti cand el vrea sa fie spalat?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si sa ma trezesc la 2-3 ore in fiecare noapte timp de 5 luni! A fost bine pentru sotul meu: inainte el nu admitea decat existenta unei singure ore 5 pe zi, 5 pm. Din Aprilie a inceput sa mearga dimineata la Proclub sa alerge, iar duminica aceasta va alerga maratonul din Seattle. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robert este foarte prietenos: este linistit cand mergem in vizita , se joaca singur sau ma antreneaza in jocul lui. Cand trecem pe langa diverse persoane le urmareste cu privirea, intorcand capul. Acum el merge - ajutat de mine - si tot intoarce capul dupa oameni; mi-e teama ca intr-o zi va da cu capul de un stalp fiindca nu se uita in fata lui! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robert zambeste mult, iar mie imi zambeste de fiecare data cand ii pica privirile pe mine. Si face atatea fete! :-) Isi ridica o spranceana, apoi pe amandoua, se concentreaza la jucariile lui, se incrunta, isi increteste fruntea, chicoteste cand stie ca il voi gadila :-) Intr-o dimineata a refuzat sa manance. Isi intorcea capul cand in dreapta , cand in stanga, cu buzele stranse si urmarindu-ma tot timpul din coltul ochilor. La un moment dat i-am spus: "Gata, ma dau batuta. Vei papa cand iti va veni doica. " Brusc a intors capul spre mine si a scos limba. Am izbucnit in hohote de ras. Nu m-am putut abtine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stiu ca vor mai fi momente in care va trebui sa-l invat cum sa se comporte, dar deocamdata ma bucur de clipele petrecute impreuna si rad din toata inima.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si aceasta este bucuria de a fi parinte!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-8856181389279415403?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/8856181389279415403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=8856181389279415403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/8856181389279415403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/8856181389279415403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2007/11/revenire.html' title='Revenire...'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_LW6e32BrhH8/R1D48zOhuCI/AAAAAAAAAHg/CGeHOlbpHec/s72-c/Halloween1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-7688548849761295243</id><published>2007-08-16T00:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T00:27:18.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sfanta Maria</title><content type='html'>Ieri a fost Sfanta Maria, zi in care o sarbatoream mereu pe mama, Maria Untaru.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luni, 13 martie 2007 s-a implinit un an de cand mama nu mai este.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As vrea sa scriu despre tot ceea ce simt dar degetele nu ma ajuta. Iata ce a scris in septembrie, anul trecut, un fost coleg si prieten al mamei, profesorul Nicolae Calomfirescu: &lt;a href="http://www.quark-press.ro/site.php?document=MainFrameDoc&amp;elementID=8096"&gt;http://www.quark-press.ro/site.php?document=MainFrameDoc&amp;amp;elementID=8096&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mami, mi-e dor de tine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-7688548849761295243?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/7688548849761295243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=7688548849761295243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/7688548849761295243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/7688548849761295243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2007/08/sfanta-maria.html' title='Sfanta Maria'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-7281706074624448370</id><published>2007-08-15T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T00:14:53.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Am fost acasa...</title><content type='html'>Am fost acasa o perioada scurta de timp, am stat doar 15 zile. Zilele au trecut marcate de multa tristete si doar de putina bucurie. Bucuria era data de revederea unor oameni dragi: tata, Mircea, Codruta, Ilenus, Amalia. Am cunoscut-o si pe cea de-a doua nepotica a mea, Ana, o minune de fetita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tristetea a acoperit insa si bucuria: ii vedeam pentru atat de putin timp, insa suficient de mult sa-mi reamintesc cat de mult imi lipsesc. In plus ar mai fi fost si alti prieteni si verisori pe care as fi vrut sa-i revad, insa nu am avut timp, iar canicula din perioada respectiva nu m-a ajutat. Si mama nu mai este...&lt;br /&gt;Cineva mi-a spus recent ca mama este una.... mi-am inghitit lacrimile stiind ca mama mea a murit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cat am stat in Severin cred ca am iesit doar in 3 seri la plimbare. Amalia mi-a povestit ca un fost coleg de serviciu m-a vazut intr-o seara cu Robert. I-am parut trista si nu m-a oprit sa-mi vorbeasca. Eram trista intr-adevar, dar mi-ar fi facut atat de bine sa ma opreasca; imi este un prieten drag si m-as fi bucurat sa-l revad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acasa...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-7281706074624448370?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/7281706074624448370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=7281706074624448370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/7281706074624448370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/7281706074624448370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2007/08/am-fost-acasa.html' title='Am fost acasa...'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-8174372169015970189</id><published>2007-06-19T16:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T22:15:32.231-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Duracell....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;O colega m-a intrebat cum trec noptile, reusesc sa dorm?I-am raspuns ca uneori Robert mananca la fiecare 3 ore, 2 ore si jumatate sau chiar 2 ore, alteori se trezeste o singura data inainte de a-l trezi eu la ora 6. Si bineinteles radeam cand ii povesteam programul nostru de somn. Ea a replicat mirata si amuzata: "Si de unde mai ai atata energie?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si mi-am dat seama imediat ca energia mea vine de la Robert.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-8174372169015970189?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/8174372169015970189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=8174372169015970189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/8174372169015970189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/8174372169015970189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2007/06/duracell.html' title='Duracell....'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-7531537944987846850</id><published>2007-06-19T09:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T09:54:31.573-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Robert</title><content type='html'>Ce inseamna Robert pentru mine?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voi trece peste primele saptamani in care il amenintam ca-l pun intr-un cos si-l las in fata bisericii  fiindca nu dormeam nici eu, nici el:-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ieri noapte Robert a avut chef de gimnastica si povesti: asezat in pat, langa mine a gangurit timp de o ora, a facut biciclete si s-a rasucit incontinuu. Apoi a vrut sa ia o masa copioasa si a binevoit sa adoarma cu o jumatate de ora inaintea orei mele de trezire. Am dormit si eu acea jumatate de ora, el a dormit mai departe iar eu m-am pregatit sa plec la serviciu. Si acum rad cand imi amintesc, am ras si cand i-am povestit sefului meu la intalnirea de dimineata, am ras de fiecare data cand mi-am amintit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De dimineata am imbracat o perna in camasa mea de noapte si R0bert a dormit cu ea in brate cat timp eu mi-am facut dusul si m-am pregatit de plecare. Cand a venit Angela i-am povestit vesela cum l-am pacalit pe dulcele terorist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zambesc cand ma gandesc la el, zambesc cand imi amintesc cum imi zambeste, cum ma cearta, cum tipa ca sa obtina ce vrea. Zambesc cand vad stangacia lui Eduard incercand sa-l tina pe celalat umar, cand Eduard vorbeste cu el sau face gimnastica cu el, zambesc cand Eduard usor suparat vrea sa il mute in patul lui, sa-l lase sa planga ca sa nu ne mai santajeze, si apoi cedeaza fiindca Robert sta cuminte sau gangureste la el in brate. Zambesc auzindu-l pe Eduard facand planuri de joaca , de alergat cu Robert, de iesit la plimbare. Zambesc cand Eduard pleaca la cumparaturi si se intoarce cu o gramada de lucruri pentru Robert.&lt;br /&gt;Zambesc cand il pun pe salteluta pe care ii schimb scutecul: de cele mai multe ori zambeste si el, uneori se agita de oboseala, iar in prima luna plangea de mi se rupea sufletul.&lt;br /&gt;Zambesc cand il pun in cosul lui de masina si plange suparat, ca sa se linisteasca mai tarziu jucandu-se cu catelul de pe picioarele lui sau cu fluturasul fosnitor din dreptul mainii stangi.&lt;br /&gt;Zambesc cand sta pe terenul lui de joaca si le vorbeste tovarasilor sai, cand se uita in oglinjoara lui si isi povesteste, cand rade la cate o jucarioara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ieri Eduard i-a cantat putin la pian tinandu-l cu o mana, foarte putin fiindca Robert a scuipat usor pe pian. Nu numai ca nu s-a suparat (pianul are parte de o ingrijire speciala) ci zambind a luat repede o carpa moale si a curatat pianul. Apoi l-a luat iarasi pe Robert in brate spunandu-i: "Stiu ca nu-ti place Bach, dar cu o singura mana nu prea stiu ce sa-ti cant." :-))))&lt;br /&gt;Am zambit iarasi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si fiecare zi e plina de surprize de toate felurile, de rutina de zi cu zi, si de diverse momente istovitoare. Dar zambesc fericita iar sufletul imi rade fiindca el este mereu prezent: Robert.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-7531537944987846850?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/7531537944987846850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=7531537944987846850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/7531537944987846850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/7531537944987846850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2007/06/robert.html' title='Robert'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-8892100425909222680</id><published>2007-06-19T08:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T09:09:04.484-07:00</updated><title type='text'>De dimineata...</title><content type='html'>Este o frumoasa, insorita dimineata de marti, dar astazi nu m-am putut imprieteni cu soferul. De ce?! Fiindca a incetinit traficul intr-o zona in care traficul este oricum foarte lent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In campusul MS-ului se construieste mult in perioada asta, si ca sa fie cat de cat o fluiditate in circulatia camioanelor cu materiale si a celorlalte autovehicule din zona, cateva reprezentante ale sexului frumos sunt asezate strategic in diverse intersectii. Ele au cate un sceptru cu STOP pe o fata si SLOW pe cealalta si fac o treaba buna in a hotari in locul soferilor cine trece si cine sta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soferul din shuttle-ul meu s-a oprit in dreptul a doua dintre ele si deschizand geamul le-a spus fiecareia cate ceva, o gluma sau o remarca haioasa, in timp ce a treia astepta ca el sa treaca sa le poata intoarce fata cu SLOW celor ce asteptau pe sensul celalalt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dupa ce am coborat din shuttle am zambit iarasi fiindca soarele lumina cladirea mea, fiindca am urcat pe scari si nu am luat liftul, fiindca in ultimul timp diminetile imi dau senzatia ca traiesc, ca sunt vie cum n-am fost.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-8892100425909222680?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/8892100425909222680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=8892100425909222680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/8892100425909222680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/8892100425909222680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2007/06/de-dimineata.html' title='De dimineata...'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-2999352859225176577</id><published>2007-06-13T11:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T11:14:05.731-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fericirea mea</title><content type='html'>Un coleg mi-a spus zilele trecute: "Nu mai esti la fel de fericita ca atunci cand erai insarcinata. Nu zambesti la fel de mult."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar eu sunt fericita! Nu putem fi pe deplin fericiti niciodata (mama nu l-a cunoscut pe primul meu copil), dar cred ca referirea era facuta la perioada de sarcina, asteptarea copilului si perioada de dupa, cand copilul este o prezenta noua in viata ta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imi amintesc cu placere de ultimele 2 luni de sarcina. Desi ma miscam greu si abia asteptam sa ajung in fotoliul meu preferat, eram atat de vesela ca as fi ras si daca imi arata cineva un creion. Si la serviciu radeam foarte mult - ciudat, nu ?! - spre disperarea (a cauzat multe momente nostime in echipa) colegului meu de birou, un tanar de 24 de ani, caruia i se spusese ca din cauza hohotelor de ras se pot declansa contractiile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si radeam atat de mult incat 5 minute nu mai puteam face nimic altceva, si fiecare gest sau cuvant imi declansa noi hohote de ras. Totul se termina cand simteam ca ma sufoc iar burtica ma durea de atata ras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un astfel de moment am avut in spital, cu 2 saptamani inainte de a naste, cand doctorul a incercat sa intoarca bebelusul asezat foarte confortabil cu capul sub coasta mea dreapta. Eram intinsa pe pat, burtica imi fusese relaxata cu o injectie, doctorul si-a pus manusile si a pus un praf alb pe burta mea. L-am intrebat ce era praful respectiv. Mi-a raspuns : "Faina de grau." Am izbucnit intr-un ras nestavilit de faptul ca doctorul astepta cu mainile ridicate ca eu sa termin, asistenta de partea cealalta a patului astepta si ea, iar Eduard ma privea amuzat, obisnuit deja cu astfel de momente. Si cand paream ca ma opresc doctorul mai spunea ceva de genul "Gata, acum putem incepe..." iar eu ma porneam iarasi, mai vartos, spre disperarea asistentei care i-a spus doctorului intr-un final : "Va rog nu mai spuneti nimic."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am ras mult atunci, cat pentru o viata intreaga, dar acum parca sunt mai fericita fiindca am o minune de baietel, sanatos, care ma cearta cand ajung acasa dupa 8 ore de serviciu, si imi gangureste dupa fiecare masa pe care o ia de la mama lui.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-2999352859225176577?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/2999352859225176577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=2999352859225176577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/2999352859225176577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/2999352859225176577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2007/06/fericirea-mea.html' title='Fericirea mea'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-7227847084882070879</id><published>2007-06-13T08:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T09:01:19.221-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vremuri vechi si vremuri noi</title><content type='html'>Inainte de a se naste Robert, Eduard si eu ne luam pranzul impreuna: fie venea el la cladirea mea si incalzeam mancarea luata de acasa (sau incercam bucatele de la cantina daca nu avusesem timp sa gatesc) , fie mergeam acasa, pranzeam si intr-o ora eram inapoi la serviciu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ieri, Ricky (colegul meu de birou) m-a intrebat de ce Eduard nu mai vine la mine sa mancam. I-am spus ca merg eu acasa la 12 sa-l alaptez pe Robert si cum nu mai am timp sa fac si altceva in ora respectiva imi iau pachetel si-l mananc la serviciu, langa tastatura, in timp ce-mi triez emailurile. Ricky a picat putin pe ganduri si mi-a replicat:" Aaa, deci Eduard este neglijat acum. Va fi gelos pe Robert."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am zambit si am inganat ceva in stilul lui Robert, sau pe limba bebelusa cum ar spune o doamna draga mie. Insa mi-am dat seama ca are dreptate, chiar daca el a spus glumind, si mai mult, fiindca vreau ca Robert sa fie alaptat pana la 1 an, eu si Eduard vom avea pranzurile sacrificate pentru mult timp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este oare Eduard gelos?! Il voi intreba....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-7227847084882070879?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/7227847084882070879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=7227847084882070879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/7227847084882070879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/7227847084882070879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2007/06/vremuri-vechi-si-vremuri-noi.html' title='Vremuri vechi si vremuri noi'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-4114155547388060168</id><published>2007-06-12T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T09:37:01.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O zi cu soare</title><content type='html'>Astazi am avut o senzatie de pace si duiosie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mergeam cu shuttle-ul la cladirea mea si oprindu-ne sa lasam un coleg la destinatia sa m-a izbit cum pica lumina pe intrarea in cladire. Era atata lumina pe barnele de lemn incat m-am relaxat imediat si mi l-am imaginat pe Eduard facandu-mi poze scaldata in razele soarelui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si fiindca era prea mult ca sa tin doar pentru mine am deschis discutia cu soferita din shuttle-ul 120 cu subiectul clasic de vreme. Vocea ei m-a iritat putin dar nevrand sa-mi stric buna dispozitie am continuat sa-i povestesc ca vedeam iepuri in fiecare dupa-amiaza in care mergeam sa-l iau pe Eduard de la cladirea 27. Si apoi mi-am  amintit de una din primele mele plimbari in parc cu Robert; el avea 2-3 saptamani si dormea in bratele mele cand am vazut un iepuras foarte mic, mic cum nu mai vazusem pana atunci; iepurasul rodea un fir de iarba subtire, la fel de tanar ca si el; si mi-am dat seama dintr-o data ce frumoasa e primavara: tineam in brate un baby boy, vedeam un baby rabbit care rontaia un baby grass (am folosit aici cuvintele englezesti pe care le-am folosit sa-i povestesc ascultatoarei mele): si eram fericita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soferita mi-a spus cu o voce calda cat e de frumoasa era povestea mea si mi-a multumit ca i-am impartasit acea experienta de primavara; eram iarasi fericita si cum tocmai ajunsesem la cladirea mea i-am spus ca mi-a facut placere sa vorbesc cu ea, ea mi-a spus acelasi lucru si privindu-ne pentru o clipa am stiut ca amandoua vom avea o zi frumoasa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-4114155547388060168?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/4114155547388060168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=4114155547388060168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/4114155547388060168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/4114155547388060168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2007/06/o-zi-cu-soare.html' title='O zi cu soare'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-115841500264193190</id><published>2006-09-25T18:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T09:25:42.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mama</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7576/2951/1600/IMG_5788.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7576/2951/200/IMG_5788.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7576/2951/1600/IMG_5785.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7576/2951/200/IMG_5785.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle" colspan="2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Din florile mamei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era indragostita de natura, de flori. Terasa ei era plina de flori vesele, colorate, delicate si puternice in acelasi timp. Ingrijite cu toata dragostea cresteau, se scaldau in soarele fierbinte. Tata ii cumpara cate un buchet de flori proaspete in fiecare saptamana.&lt;br /&gt;De 8 Martie mama venea acasa cu bratele pline de flori pe care le aseza cu drag in diverse camere. Cateva flori delicate le aranja in camera mea. O vedeam incalzindu-si privirea in florile ei incarcandu-si parca bateriile de la coloritul, vioiciunea si fragilitatea lor.&lt;br /&gt;Cand plecam in vacante sau la drumuri mai lungi contempla verdeata, muntii, florile salbatice. Iar daca un animal salbatic aparea pe neasteptate scotea un sunet de surpriza amestecat cu bucurie care ne conecta pe toti cei de langa ea cu unicitatea momentului. Cand ajungeam in mijlocul naturii isi umplea plamanii cu aerul curat de parca pana atunci nu ar fi putut respira.&lt;br /&gt;Ea m-a invatat sa-mi fac coronita din flori salbatice si copil fiind, imi impletea cate o coronita de fiecare data cand mergeam la "iarba verde".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-115841500264193190?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/115841500264193190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=115841500264193190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/115841500264193190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/115841500264193190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2006/09/mama_25.html' title='Mama'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-115841293048311774</id><published>2006-09-21T05:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T08:48:19.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mama</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7576/2951/1600/IMG_4701.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7576/2951/200/IMG_4701.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si ce fericita era cand o vizitau elevii ei, unul cate unul sau mai multi odata. Iar cand fosti elevi ii bateau la usa era atat de emotionata incat devenea stangace. Ultima data cand mi-a povestit despre vizitele ei mi-a vorbit despre Cristian. El a venit si a petrecut mai mult timp cu mama in acea zi. Au vorbit mult. Iar cand i-a prezentat-o pe sotia lui i-a umplut sufletul de bucurie.&lt;br /&gt;Ceea ce ma emotiona era ca veneau la ea oameni cu copiii la varsta adolescentei, oameni care ii fusesera candva elevi.&lt;br /&gt;N-am cunoscut-o pe mama ca profesoara, la scoala. Am vazut-o insa pe coridor, cu catalogul sub brat, mergand incet si hotarat spre clasa in care urma sa faca ceea ce ii placea atat de mult. Am vazut-o certandu-i pe elevii care intarziau pe coridor desi tocmai sunase de intrare. Vocea ei puternica si clara ii forta pe copii sa intre in clase, iar ochii ii radeau amuzati de zburdalnicia elevilor. Tinuta sobra si vocea voit exigenta contrastau puternic cu ochii veseli si calzi. O vedeam topindu-se de bucurie si ascunzand-se in acelasi timp sub masca sobrietatii. Imi povestea de cate un elev care facea o prostioara hazlie in timpul orei, si-mi spunea cat de greu ii fusese sa ascunda hohotele interioare de ras si sa il "certe" pe elevul respectiv.&lt;br /&gt;Radea puternic, sanatos, din toata inima. Cei din jur se inveseleau sub influenta rasului ei.&lt;br /&gt;I-a indragit pe toti elevii ei, neuitandu-si nici o clipa menirea de dascal. Voia sa le transmita tot ce avea mai bun atat din cunostintele ei teoretice cat si din experienta de viata. Voia sa-i ajute pe toti pe cei pe care ii dascalea sa fie oameni.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-115841293048311774?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/115841293048311774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=115841293048311774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/115841293048311774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/115841293048311774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2006/09/mama_21.html' title='Mama'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-115841032842588586</id><published>2006-09-16T05:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T08:43:13.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mama</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3621/3700/1600/mama.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3621/3700/320/mama.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N-a fost niciodata o femeie energica, insa cand si-a propus sa faca ceva a reusit mereu sa duca la bun sfarsit, indiferent cat de greu i-ar fi fost, sau cat de putin i-ar fi placut.&lt;br /&gt;Mi-o amintesc foarte bine in perioada in care invata pentru gradele de profesor. Desi eram foarte mica, o vad inca pe mijlocul canapelei, cufundata in citirea unor brosuri care nu faceau nici un sens; avea de citit si texte politice pe langa disciplina ei si desi stia ca nu de ele avea nevoie pentru a preda elevilor ei limba romana se concentra asupra lecturilor care ii provocau repulsie. Era atat de concentrata incat nu indrazneam s-o intrerup, o priveam muta pe cea care cu sprancenele incruntate isi impunea sa citeasca.&lt;br /&gt;Mi-o amintesc de asemenea pregatindu-si lectiile pentru a doua zi, sau corectand lucrari de control. Uneori palida, pe canapea, avea langa ea o multime de carti, caiete, foi de caiet scrise si un pix rosu. Ma fascina scrisul ei rosu peste randurile cu cerneala albastra. Mama isi pregatea zilnic lectiile pentru a doua zi si spunea ca un dascal trebuie sa fie in orice moment pregatit.&lt;br /&gt;Mi-o amintesc si in bucatarie. Aveam mancare calda, variata, si ea nu parasea bucataria decat cand stia ca toata mancarea e gata, vasele sunt spalate si puse frumos la locul lor. Tata ii spunea din tot sufletul "Marioara, azi te-ai intrecut pe tine!", dar o spunea atat de des incat noi, copiii, ne amuzam de fiecare data cand il auzeam si continuam sa infulecam cu pofta. Mama ne zambea fericita stiind ca iarasi ne pusese pe masa ceva ce ne placea.&lt;br /&gt;O vad la sfarsitul curateniei generale punand perdelele albe ca spuma laptelui care cadeau grele si frumos mirositoare, schimband parca tot aspectul camerei, facand-o sa para mai calda, mai luminoasa si mai frumoasa. Cred ca episodul perdelelor era preferatul ei din serialul curateniei generale. Se indeparta usor de ele si le privea cu duiosie dandu-le viata si parca personalitate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-115841032842588586?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/115841032842588586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=115841032842588586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/115841032842588586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/115841032842588586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2006/09/mama.html' title='Mama'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-115654690750902603</id><published>2006-08-25T15:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T16:14:02.006-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mama</title><content type='html'>Cea mai draga fiinta si de multe ori cea mai neglijata.&lt;br /&gt;Noi, copiii, uitam deseori ca primul cuvant rostit la ananghie a fost mama; primele ganduri le-am indreptat spre ea, mama, cea mai blanda si mai iertatoare dintre toate fiintele pe care le vom intalni pe acest pamant.&lt;br /&gt;Mama&lt;br /&gt;Cand am simtit ca o voi pierde mi s-a strans inima. Nici macar nu mai eram langa ea s-o pot vedea, auzi, sa-i simt mirosul zi de zi, sa ma alint sub privirea ei calda si inteleapta.&lt;br /&gt;Au trecut 12 zile de cand ea nu mai este. Au trecut aproape 3 ani de cand am plecat de langa ea. Am sunat-o uneori zilnic ca sa ii aud vocea, chiar bolnava fiind ea, ascultand timbrul hotarat si cristalin al vocii ei. De cele mai multe ori eu nu povesteam nimic, ii puneam doar intrebari cand se oprea fiindca n-as fi vrut sa taca, as fi vrut sa imi vorbeasca incontinuu. Acum n-o mai pot suna. Si as vrea. As vrea sa ma mai tina in brate mangaindu-mi tamplele si parul, soptindu-mi cuvinte duioase.&lt;br /&gt;Acum, daca vreau sa dorm, o simt pe mama cuprinzandu-mi capul in mainile ei calde si o aud zicandu-mi : Puiul mamei!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-115654690750902603?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/115654690750902603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=115654690750902603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/115654690750902603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/115654690750902603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2006/08/mama.html' title='Mama'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-114738607562594271</id><published>2006-05-11T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T15:21:15.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Noi si strutii - fisa</title><content type='html'>Continuare a ceea ce voiam de fapt sa spun in post-ul anterior.&lt;br /&gt;Asadar citesc Cartea risului si a uitarii; am ajuns la Partea a patra: Scrisorile pierdute.&lt;br /&gt;Incercand s-o uimeasca pe Tamina Hugo ii propune sa viziteze o gradina zoologica; Tamina accepta si ii place foarte mult pana cand se intlaneste cu strutii; acestia vin repede la gard si intinzandu-si gaturile isi misca ciocurile rapid incercand sa scoata sunete care nu se aud; Tamina pleaca ingrozita de dinamica ciocurilor lor crezand ca vor s-o avertizeze de ceva ce se va intampla. Autorul insa vede altfel "galagia" strutilor, exemplificand cu franturi din conversatiile altor personaje din carte. Concluzia lui este: "Se inalta toate in fata Taminei si-i vorbesc toate in cor cu vehementa, insistent si agresiv, caci nimic nu este mai important pe aceasta lume decat ceea ce vor ele sa-i comunice."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-114738607562594271?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/114738607562594271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=114738607562594271' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/114738607562594271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/114738607562594271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2006/05/noi-si-strutii-fisa.html' title='Noi si strutii - fisa'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-114737768952427222</id><published>2006-05-11T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T13:32:56.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Noi si strutii</title><content type='html'>Acum citesc Cartea risului si a uitarii; mi-a imprumutat-o Paula dupa ce i-am povestit de prima carte a lui Milan Kundera pe care o citisem.&lt;br /&gt;Imi amintesc ca mama avea cartile intesate cu fise; erau foi rupte frumos din caiete dictando pe care le acoperise cu cerneala albastra, intr-un scris foarte ordonat si lunguiet; se uzasera deja de cat erau de folosite si as fi vrut sa am si eu asa fise, ordonate, multe; mama este profesor de limba romana; cred ca si profesoara mea ma invatase sa fac fise pe masura ce citesc o carte; am incercat dar ca multele mele incercari de a scrie ceva, orice, am renuntat dupa primele cuvinte .... astazi, prin aceste randuri m-am contrazis; pana cand?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-114737768952427222?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/114737768952427222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=114737768952427222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/114737768952427222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/114737768952427222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2006/05/noi-si-strutii.html' title='Noi si strutii'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-114737562897108648</id><published>2006-05-11T11:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T12:38:11.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Milan Kundera</title><content type='html'>De Milan Kundera am aflat de la Sabinuta. Mi-a recomandat una din cartile lui, Ignoranta. Am citit-o pe nerasuflate in tren, in drum spre Bucuresti. Am inghitit-o cu atata lacomie incat acum nu-mi mai amintesc decat ca m-a fascinat; aceeasi senzatie o am si cand mananc lacom si incerc mai tarziu sa-mi amintesc gustul....nu reusesc.&lt;br /&gt;Stiu ce voi face : ceea ce am mai facut: voi reciti cartea si o voi savura ca pe un vin bun.&lt;br /&gt;As recunoaste ca nu stiu sa beau un vin bun; dar vreau sa stiu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-114737562897108648?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/114737562897108648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=114737562897108648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/114737562897108648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/114737562897108648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2006/05/milan-kundera.html' title='Milan Kundera'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27944531.post-114737271537647718</id><published>2006-05-11T11:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T11:38:35.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello World!</title><content type='html'>Iata o incercare timida si ignoranta de a imita. Da :-) De a imita ceea ce au mai facut si altii.&lt;br /&gt;Si curiozitatea isi pune amprenta pe acest inceput: oare as putea-o face?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/27944531-114737271537647718?l=ileanak.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/feeds/114737271537647718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=27944531&amp;postID=114737271537647718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/114737271537647718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/27944531/posts/default/114737271537647718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ileanak.blogspot.com/2006/05/hello-world.html' title='Hello World!'/><author><name>Ileana Koller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15756560601871513610</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
