Foggy season

The loud alarm wakes me up groggy from the previous night’s dreams, and I’m struggling to unplug the tangled headphones so that I can turn them off. I wake up to see the gloomy morning sky and the crows doing their peculiar dance while making strange noises. It’s 7:13 AM.

Every day is alike, with the same cat meowing for food in the morning, the same arabica coffee that has to be prepared, the same bed that needs to be put together, and the same dishes that need to be washed.

I’ve grown sick of yearning for new things and expecting miracles to arrive. I guess I’ve simply been delusory, believing that if I give it my all, all my energy, and all my true self, everything will fall into place just as effortlessly as I make it look.

It’s irritating because no matter how much I give, I get so little in return. For the time I offer, I get loneliness; for my true friendship, I get false people who gossip behind my back; and for my work, I get a monthly wage that goes toward expenses.

I’ve even lost the urge to go home and unwind since I’m constantly there and there’s always something to do. It’s simply another apartment with thin walls and loud neighbors, where I feel like going insane every day, getting angry and laughing, smiling, and then sobbing.

It’s not that bad

The issue is, I can’t even complain since it’s OK. It’s fine that I have a decent job, a family who cares for me, a pet, friends, and that’s it amid this epidemic. However, if everything is fine, why am I unhappy? Why can’t I find my place and feel as if everything around me is superficial, neatly packaged in a box with a gleaming ribbon on top?

I’m not sure whether I’m blind or if not conscious of what I have around me, but sometimes I feel trapped, going around in circles, trying to figure out what’s going on. I’ve worked on myself and ventured to clear the fog by surrounding myself with the right things and people.

The irony is that I now have no notion of what is right or wrong, and I’m living my life with my eyes closed, wishing to trust fate in the new route ahead of me. The problem is that I’m blindfolded and keep going in circles, stumbling on unforeseen circumstances and bumping into cold strangers.

I used to read somewhere that when you lose your way into the fog you end up in beautiful places. Though I worry about what awaits me in the next chapter of my life, I know I need to get lost so that I may eventually find my way and purpose.

Rain and the early autumn

Working at home does offer a good experience to get in touch with my environment and feel at peace. It gets lonelier at times, but I get to know myself, and I have time to reflect upon my thoughts and make better decisions. Especially when the weather changes.

These days rained a lot, and the temperature decreased. Honestly, I loved the cold breeze and the fast droplets of rain stumbling through the windows at the first hours of dawn. It was like a breath of fresh air after the summer drowsiness.

In the morning, I would open wide the windows and doors, letting the purified, cold air to enter the apartment while enjoying a cup of hot coffee covered in a soft blanket. I felt like I invited the early autumn into my home, but it never felt so good.

Autumn senses

I got mesmerized by the sunrise and sunset, altogether. I would get lost in the clouds while watching them, dancing through the ruffled sky. Ironically, I was always fascinated by the clouds.

In September during school, after finishing my tests and paperwork, I would stare at the blue autumn sky. The teachers used to blame me for not paying attention to their classes and tried to keep me focused. I guess I was a dreamy girl that loved the clouds, correction, still am.

I can’t feel guilty for such an innocent pleasure, loving the clouds and the early autumn rain. The white noise that covers everything, which is like silence but not empty. The cold shivers that makes your skin tremble and wake up to your senses.

In the end

In life it’s important to not fear the rain, hiding through an umbrella at all times. You need to let the rain kiss you, beat upon your head with silver liquid drops, to sing you a lullaby.

And if you get wet and muddy through the process, remember to look up rather than down. Without the rain, there would be no rainbow.

(Image Source – Unsplash, eberhard grossgasteiger)

Quotes about laziness and days of comfort

So, today being Sunday I have to be honest with you, my dear readers and recognize. Today, I am lazy.

I know that tomorrow is Monday again and a new week is about to start but I just want to dwell in the present and enjoy the moments of relaxation, writing a new post on WordPress while enjoying a hot cup of tea.

As you might have figure it out from the title, today’s post is about laziness and days of comfort, like Sunday. In this post I am going to share with you quotes, just like I used you in my previous posts. Hope you enjoy them, and have a great Sunday!

(Image Source – Unsplash)

Quotes about laziness and comfort

“I’ve heard that hard work never killed anyone, but I say why take the chance?” Ronald Reagan

“Procrastination is my sin. It brings me naught but sorrow. I know that I should stop it. In fact, I will–tomorrow” Gloria Pitzer

“Laziness is the first step towards efficiency.” Patrick Bennett

“Progress is made by lazy men looking for easier ways to do things.” Robert A. Heinlein

“Assumptions are quick exits for lazy minds that like to graze out in the fields without bother.” Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem

“There is a great volcano sleeping in every laziness!” Mehmet Murat ildan

“Bed and laziness are good friends, they often like to hang out late at noon.” Alain Bremond-Torrent, running is flying intermittently

“I choose a lazy person to do a hard job. Because a lazy person will find an easy way to do it. ”   Bill Gates

“I’m lazy. But it’s the lazy people who invented the wheel and the bicycle because they didn’t like walking or carrying things.” Lech Wales

“The lazier a man is, the more he plans to do tomorrow.” Norwegian Proverb

“If I won the award for laziness, I would send somebody to pick it up for me.” Anonymous

“There’s never enough time to do all the nothing you want.”  Bill Watterson

“People say nothing is impossible, but I do nothing every day.”  A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

“Idleness is fatal only to the mediocre.”  Albert Camus

“I’ve heard that hard work never killed anyone, but I say why take the chance?”  Ronald Reagan

“Let us be lazy in everything, except in loving and drinking, except in being lazy.”  Gotthold Ephraim Lessing

“Human nature is above all things lazy.”  Harriet Beecher Stowe

“Procrastination is your body telling you you need to back off a bit and think more about what you are doing.”  James Altucher

“You gotta know when to be lazy. Done correctly, it’s an art form that benefits everyone. Nicholas Sparks

“Although laziness is common and a natural part of life, it has the potential to completely consume us.”   Chantalle Blikman

“Everybody seems to think I’m lazy
I don’t mind, I think they’re crazy.
Running everywhere at such a speed
Till they find there’s no need. ”
 John Lennon

(Image Source – Unsplash)

Another soul has passed away…

In this short life we ​​meet special people, wonderful people who bring an extra color and cheerfulness, which refreshes the day’s living.

In fact, I am talking about our grandparents. After my beloved grandparents died I turned my affection towards my husband’s grandparents, who, like mine, were good people with holy and righteous souls.

I think grandparents, wherever they are or live, are the same. Love and respect for grandparents everywhere should be similar to ours.

Grandparents …

I’m talking about those people who have grown generations and generations, who have lived long enough to be able to tell storied to the grandchildren with longing and passion for those gray times.

Those people who knew the true meaning of the word „work”, working from dawn to night, without pause and fatigue, together for family and well-being.

Those dear souls who dedicated their lives to work in the country, who loved the work and the riches of the earth given from the God to their last breath.

Those who spent decades at each other’s arm, enjoying together good days and bad days. Those people who did not say goodbye after the first fight, but who shyly smiled after a few moments of silence, shook their arms and continued the journey of life as a whole.

Those people who enjoyed the first cup of coffee on the brink of the morning, sipping uneasily and discussing together about family, neighbors and life.

Those who have not been estranged from their marriage for years, have proved that as a Phoenix bird, marriage must come back to life at all times, despite all the unfavorable circumstances.

Those people who loved the Church and the word of the Lord, who followed the rules of the village group, fasting whole fastings, loving life without sin.

A few good-bye words …

Yesterday I drove a person dear to me and my family, my husband grandmother on the last road. A gentle, calm and calculated woman, a woman who loves family and good people, a wonderful woman.

Heaven wept for her departure from this world, warming the whole village in a sea of ​​cold and acid tears. People from the village, relatives, friends and acquaintances all gathered to take us on the last road our grandma, as we know or dear Aurica.

She went to be with the one she loved all her life, with the partner she spent her whole life with. Step by step, prayer by prayer, we went to the place of eternity, as usual in a cart drawn by horses, through mud and unpaved road.

Although the world was screaming and crying for her departure, Grandma would no longer respond as before, with her body immobilized and hard, trapped in the wooden coffin. Only the sky was responding to the reactions of those around her, wiping hot  and longing tears.

Now the family is poorer without the two beloved members, grandmother and grandfather. There will be no one at the country who will meet us at the gate with the words: „Hey, my dear nephews” or „Grandma’s babies”. No one will make us chicken soup as only my grandmother knew how to make, steak or other goodies.

They will remain in our souls and in our memory, those two wonderful people who made our childhood more beautiful, who taught us and brought us on the right path in life. At the end of the day we are thankful to the Lord that he enriched our lives with such beautiful people, we were fortunate that we had them.

Goodbye, dear souls! Rest in peace!


(Image Source – Unsplash)

Autumn feelings mixed up with random thoughts

Friday, September 27th. The day when autumn is persistent in the soul and outside. One can clearly feel the gradual drop in temperature, the summer season giving way to the crumbling autumn.

I started the week on Monday, but I have no exact notion that can prove the passage of time, at least, I didn’t feel it. Day by day, hour by hour, being caught up in the same activity that seems to continue forever.

Every day has the same nuances, the same vague happenings, the same hours spent in the hourglass. With eyes stuck in the monitor, paying attention to clients and their special needs, explaining in another language abstract and precise notions related to the IT area.

It is said that time goes by quickly when what you do is pleasing to you, but can it do it endlessly? Hm, maybe I just got bored, doing the same monotonous activity every day, speaking the same meaningless words as a programmed robot.

The home is cold. As if it had lost its charm since the last unfavorable family event, it seemed to stop shining. Gray and unintelligible dreams make their way through the subconscious, awakening my senses but without any meaning, leaving me cold and confused.

Ineffable desires and random ideas

I wish I could close my eyes and escape from this cruel reality, which practically draws life away from me, drop by drop. I wish I could regain my joy beforehand, to see the spark of happiness in every smile.

I would like to enjoy again the „curtain” of safety and joy displayed on the faces of the known persons. I would like to go back to my childhood, where I did not know about falsity and cowardice, arrogance and lack of common sense, where everything seemed perfect, in a world full of imperfections.


(Image Source – Unsplash)


Wishes, wishes and wishes, which of course will never be fulfilled. The world is false, it wears masks and it is hidden. On the one hand they wants to enter into your soul, revealing the secrets you have gathered for a lifetime, and on the other they turn their back and laugh at your own suffering.

It is said that it is best not to show yourself to the world, to be indifferent and apathetic. Attributes such as naivety, childhood, indecision have nothing to do with our dictionary. But how can you hide something that is part of us? You can’t mask a good soul.

The world will never stop uselessly analyzing and commenting on situations and unknown people without the knowledge of the cause. At the end of the day it is important to become aware of what is inside you, the qualities and what made you become the man you are today.

A quote says: „At the bad worker during fall the heart cries” I believe that the bad workers are represented by the false world and the heart and the fall are in fact the broken souls in the process. And as the leaves decompose during the migration from autumn to winter, so will the world at some point in life, destroyed by its own deeds.


(Image Source – Unsplash)

Song of the day 71#

Colors of the Wind
You think I’m an ignorant savage
And you’ve been so many places
I guess it must be so
But still I cannot see
If the savage one is me
How can there be so much that you don’t know
You don’t know
You think you own whatever land you land on
The Earth is just a dead thing you can claim
But I know every rock and tree and creature
Has a life, has a spirit, has a name
You think the only people who are people
Are the people who look and think like you
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger
You’ll learn things you never knew, you never knew
Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind
Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest
Come taste the sun sweet berries of the Earth
Come roll in all the riches all around you
And for once, never wonder what they’re worth
The rainstorm and the river are my brothers
The heron and the otter are my friends
And we are all connected to each other
In a circle, in a hoop that never ends
How high will the sycamore grow
If you cut it down, then you’ll never know
And you’ll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
For whether we are white or copper skinned
We need to sing with all the voices of the mountains
We need to paint with all the colors of the wind
You can own the Earth and still
All you’ll own is Earth until
You can paint with all the colors of the wind

Welcome back, dear Fall

I’m not sure if the fact that I was born in September is a reason to love you more, but I really missed you, gray autumn.

Since the summer I felt that something did not fit in the decor. The breathable heat, the scorching sun and the sweat made me want you more and more.

Many people become nostalgic with the arrival of your season, autumn. But I don’t feel that at all. I love the sweet expression of wind after the drizzle of summer, the cool splashes of rain entering the skin burnt by the sun, the sky steeped by clouds.

Maybe you feel what I feel, dear autumn. In a way, our feelings are reciprocal at this time of life, feeling together an unexpected sadness.

Like me, you change the shades of your soul to more serious and dry colors, from light green to dark brown, orange and red. We mature together in the monotonous dance of life, a long-desired season.

From the early hours of the morning you bring cold and moist shivers, sprinkling mist over the summer bedding, possessing the entire world. As a hesitant young girl you play with the temperatures and make changes to the world at your leisure without thinking about the consequences.

So while the morning is cold and ignorant, the noon brings unruly sunshine and high temperatures. In the evening it is much harsher than in the morning, the degrees falling far below the thermometer.

Nothing compares to a cup of hot tea, sipped intensely in front of the fire that burns the wet wood. Even the mohair in the cardigan braided by the mother has its place and handles the skin frightened by low temperature.

I like the sound of wilted leaves freshly fallen from the trees and their unmistakable scent. I would play all day hiding in the dry garden behind the house, enjoying myself as a child of your gifts.

The aroma of ripe apples, the sound of walnuts tumbling on the ground from the old tree, the cherries full and tasty in the fall, the burgundy plums and black grapes, all are gifts brought by you, rich autumn.

The strong smell of resin and wood, the stratified wood in algorithmic rows on the thick wall belonging to the house fence. The hard working people preparing for winter healthy and delicious preparations, all of which are part of your favorite activities in the fall.

The same activities are repeated every season, but each year is special in its own way and you make this possible every fall. Thank you for being here!


(Image Source – Unsplash)

Thought of the day 8#

Am vrut sa imi deschid ochii insa o durere m-a cuprins din neant. Niste fiori reci mi s-au strecurat pe dupa spate, si mi-au invaluit toata faptura.

Incerc sa ma misc dar trupul imi este captiv intr-o cusca si nu mi-l pot misca decat prin incercari asidue. Greutati invizibile imi captureaza picioarele si mainile, si lanturi grele imi apasa pe piept.

In ochi simt acid, ei ma ustura si ma dor. Pleoapele imi atarna greoaie iar cand clipesc fruntea imi trimite prin semnale prin vibratii chinuitoare.

Lacrimi aspre imi scalda fata fara motiv, si pielea ma irita. Nasul imi este captiv, mi-l simt incarcat si necajit.

Vreau sa rostesc niste vorbe, vreau sa cer ajutor, dar glasul imi este inactiv, corzile vocale sunt incetinite de un virus si reusesc sa scot un sunet ragusit si soptit: Am racit… !

Cu toata puterea ma ridic din pat ce pare a ma trage inapoi, cu mreje solide si sigure. Genunchii imi tremura, capul imi este impovarat si vederea incetosata; tot organismul este inghitit de simptomele bolii si eu… eu sunt sclava neputintei.

Aragazul tiuie aievea, sunete de gaz palpait prin instalatie. Arunc un ibric pe ochiul aprins, potrivesc cateva plante cu efecte vindecatoare si le innec in apa clorinata de la chiuveta.

Mergand cu durere, ca o bolnava fara scapare, rabatez geamul scrutand o privire asupra tabloului tomnatic. Dintr-o data, ca dintr-o alta lume mi se infatiseaza un film alb-negru,  cu sunete infundate de copii obraznici si galagiosi, schelalait de caini vagabonzi si ciori aiurite.


Dupa o baie prea fierbinte ma las prada ceaiului aburind si pastilelor cu efect prea intarziat, prea slabe pentru afectiunea ce m-a invrajbit.

Este duminica, si saptamana atarna in tic-tacul catorva minute si secunde.

Dar va veni si saptamana viitoare… .


(Google pics sursa)

English version

I wanted to open my eyes, but a pain covered me from nowhere. A few creeps crossed my back, and my whole body was shivering.

I try to move but my body is trapped in a cage and I can only move it through hard attempts. The invisible weights capture my legs and hands, and the heavy chains press on my chest.

In the eyes I feel acid, they are hurting me. The eyelids hang on me like cumbersome and when I blink, the head sends me signals through tortuous vibrations.

Harsh tears blaze my face for no reason, and my skin irritates. My nose is captive, I feel it loaded and unkempt.

I want to say some words, I want to ask for help, but my voice is inactive, the vocal cords are slowed down by a virus and they are able to make a tingle and whisper sound: I got a cold …!

With all my power I get up from the bed that seems to pull me back, with solid and secure nets. The knees tremble, my head is overwhelmed and the vision blurred; the whole body is swallowed up by the symptoms of the disease and I … I’m the a helpless slave.

The gas cooker sounded, gas flashed through the plant. I throw a jar on the burning eye, match some plants with healing effects, and drown them in chlorinated water from the sink.

Walking painfully, like a sick man with no escapes, I open the window and take a look at the tomnatic painting. At some point, like a new world, I’m seeing a black-and-white movie, cluttered with tumultuous and noisy kids,  scaffolding stray dogs and vicious crows.

………………………………………….. ………………………………………….. ………………..

After a too hot bath I let myself pray to the steamy tea and the pills with too late effect, too weak for the affection that invaded me.

It’s Sunday, last week lays in the tic-tacs of a few minutes and seconds.

But next week will come too…. .

Thought of the day 7#

        La zumzetul alarmei mi-am acoperit capul in cearsaf… nu imi doream sa mai aud acel sunet incomod atat de devreme. La o secunda distanta urma aprinderea becului din camera, ce este atat de colorat, atat de luminos si atat de deranjant.

Ochii cauta intuneric, cauta odihna si strang aievea din globul ocular, varsand o lacrima subtire. Asternutul este atat de moale si comod, atat de primitor… de ce trebuie sa ma ridic? Vreau sa mai dorm!

Trupul imi transmite sa mai stau prin centrii nervosi ce determina miscarea membrelor inferioare si superioare. Pielea cauta textura fina si moale a materialului fetei de perna, mainile vor sa ma traga inapoi, toata fiinta vrea sa procrastinez.

Dar creierul imi transmite ganduri sigure si poruncitoare, este necesar sa ma ridic!

Cu ochii incetosati, ma ridic parca in slow motion din pat. Timpanul imi canta un tinitus asurzitor si trupul ma doare.

Cu pasi marunti ma intind si trag perdeaua de la fereastra. Deschizand geamul observ ca afara este inca intuneric.

In ciuda faptului ca termometrul arata afara 5°C, stoluri mari si negre de ciori inconjoara rasfirate intinderea cereasca, survoland zona locuintei precum niste soldati cu datorii de razboi.


(Unsplash source)

Se zaresc vag, iar toata privelistea matinala este impanzita de ceata, atat de deasa si groasa ca o poti taia cu cutitul.

Parca in surdina, aud glasuri ascutite de copii, clinchete de ras si pasi repezi. Scoala incepe mult prea devreme pentru micii omuleti, este abia ora 6.

In departare se zaresc patratele mici colorate cand mai reci, cand mai calde, semn ca si vecinii s-au trezit.

Dupa cateva momente petrecute in dreptul ferestrei, ma cuprind fiori abuzivi si reci ce se incolatacesc imprejurul meu si vor sa ma sugrume.

Inchid fereastra inmarmurita de racoarea brusca si ma indrept spre bucatarie, pentru a-mi procura doza zilnica de cofeina, pentru a ma trezi din ceata si somn.

Dar ziua abia incepe si toamna se simte rece atat afara cat si inauntru, in suflet.

English version

        At the buzzing of the alarm I covered my head in the bed … I did not want to hear that inconvenient sound so early. After a second, the light bulb in the room was lit, so colorful, so bright and so disturbing.

The eyes seek darkness, seek rest and snap out of the eyeball, shedding a thin tear. The bedding is so soft and comfortable, so welcoming … why should I get up? I want to sleep!

The body sends me to stay in the nervous centers that cause the movement of the lower and upper limbs. The skin looks for the smooth and soft texture of the pillowcase material, the hands want to pull me back, the whole being wants to procrastinate.

But the brain sends me safe and commanding thoughts, it is necessary to get up!

With blurred eyes, I seem to be slowly moving from bed. The ear plays a deafening tinnitus and my body hurts.

With small steps I stretch and pull the curtain from the window. Opening the glass I notice that outside is still dark.

Despite the fact that the thermometer looks out of 5 ° C, large black crows surround the sky, spreading across the area like soldiers in a war.

I stare vaguely, and all of the morning’s view is dilapidated by the fog, so thick that you can cut it with the knife.

Like in deafness, I hear sharp children’s shouts, shrills, and quick footsteps. School starts too early for little kids, it’s only 6 o’clock am.

In the distance, small colored squares appear when cold, when warmer, sign as neighbors wake up.

After a few moments in front of the window, there are abusive and cold fires that surround me and they seem to strangle me.

I close the window, soaked by the sudden cooling, and headed for the kitchen to get my daily dose of caffeine to wake me up from fog and sleep.

But the day is just beginning and the autumn feels cold both inside and outside, in the soul.


(Unsplash source)

Reteta tocanita simpla de ciuperci

Buna ziua dragii mei! Am reusit sa revin cu retete pe blog pentru ca am putin timp liber. Astazi va voi prezenta o reteta de tocanita de hribi cu legume si carne de pui. Imi era dor de o mancarica realizata in casa aburinda, parfumata si de sezon.


  • 3 catei de usturoi;
  • o ceapa;
  • un morcov;
  • ardei copti;
  • ulei;
  • foi de dafin;
  • marar;
  • hribi;
  • muschiulet din piept de pui;
  • sare;
  • piper;
  • smantana;
  • un ou;
  • un praf de amidon;
  • un praf de curcuma;
  • putina apa.

Pentru inceput tocam usturoiul, ceapa, morcovul si ardeiul copt, in prealabil curatat. Eu le-am dat pe robot, pentru a grabi putin procesul. Legumele maruntite se aduc intr-o cratita cu ulei, un praf de curcuma si cateva foi de dafin si se lasa la prajit 5 minute.

WhatsApp Image 2018-11-04 at 14.32.19(1)

In timp ce se prajesc legumele la foc mediu, tocam hribii si muschiuletul din piept de pui.

Această prezentare necesită JavaScript.

Apoi, adaugam hribii si pieptul de pui in cratita, cateva fire de marar (eu am folosit congelat) si turnam peste o cana de apa.

Lasam focul la mediu si acoperim cu un capac oala, amestecand din moment in moment pentru a nu se prinde de fund.

WhatsApp Image 2018-11-04 at 14.32.22

In timp ce fierbe tocanita preparam sosul de smantana. Intr-un bol amestecam o jumatate de borcanel de smantana cu un ou si un praf de amidon pentru a adauga consistenta. Amestecam compozitia foarte bine cu ajutorul unui tel si turnam peste tocanita cand suntem siguri ca aceasta a fiert.

Tocanita se mai lasa pe foc mic cateva minute pentru a fierbe impreuna cu sosul.

Această prezentare necesită JavaScript.

Platingul nu este asa pompos deoarece am considerat ca este o simpla tocanita, preparata in casa, dar va pot asigura ca este foarte delicioasa.

Pofta buna!