tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78857145127254459082012-01-14T05:31:37.144-08:00short stories and other hogwash.Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125CloudsAndDaffodilshttp://feedburner.google.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-13857030784603089642011-12-13T14:56:00.000-08:002011-12-14T14:32:31.673-08:002011-12-14T14:32:31.673-08:00<span style="font-size: 120%;"><br /> <p>Dear You: <br /> <br /> This blog has been silent for quite a while. It will remain so a little longer. That is because I am working on a novel. A draft of the first chapter can be found <a href="http://thisandthatandsomuchmore.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">if you click here</a>. However, my writing has come to a virtual standstill because more research is needed. This is why I soon will break the silence of this blog and start uploading new short stories. The goal of these new stories is to make myself dive more enthusiastically into the matter I need to research and at the same time have the satisfaction of finishing a piece of writing. <br /> <br /> I hope you will enjoy the new posts to come! <br /> <br /> Kind regards, <br /> <br /> Me <br /> <br /> </span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-1385703078460308964?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/brdDGvfACMUpnnwcbsg2Ufuibx8/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/brdDGvfACMUpnnwcbsg2Ufuibx8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/brdDGvfACMUpnnwcbsg2Ufuibx8/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/brdDGvfACMUpnnwcbsg2Ufuibx8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/2HESOLWiGFI" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com1http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/12/meanwhile-in-antartica.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-42955302193393962682011-03-22T14:13:00.000-07:002011-03-30T09:37:32.976-07:002011-03-30T09:37:32.976-07:00<span style="font-size: 120%;"><br> <p>Every morning and evening they can be found in the park and along the river. They’re of all ages, men and women, and have the same addiction. But that’s obvious — the victim’s bodies are tainted by it. Most awkward about the average addict&#39;s physique is the way they position their hands: A few keep their arms tight, but leave their shovels flapping around like silly little girls; others roll them up in solid fists and pound them relentlessly up and down in the air as they move. Some keep them clenched to their breasts, probably afraid of losing them; another bunch lets their hands hang lifelessly in the air. The government does little to help them — no — it even supports organizations that make people’s hands behave badly. Today I write this for today is the day I became an addict too. Today I put new shoelaces through my old shoes and became a runner once again.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/03/tight-pants-and-flapping-hands.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-4295530219339396268?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1ScILVm_R2Q7FDW_8Yb862liFAg/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1ScILVm_R2Q7FDW_8Yb862liFAg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1ScILVm_R2Q7FDW_8Yb862liFAg/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1ScILVm_R2Q7FDW_8Yb862liFAg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/RL3DtfxvjjE" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com10http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/03/tight-pants-and-flapping-hands.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-82882763451561771562011-03-17T02:08:00.000-07:002011-03-25T13:24:30.018-07:002011-03-25T13:24:30.018-07:00<span style="font-size: 125%;"><br> Age<br> <br> <p>They asked Nasredding Hodja his age.<br> &quot;Forty.&quot; He replied.<br> &quot;But Hodja, when we asked you your age ten years ago, you gave the same answer!&quot;<br> &quot;That&#39;s my word, and I stick with it.&quot; Hodja said.</p><br> <br> Nasreddin Hodja is pretty cool. You could look him up on wikipedia, but you shouldn&#39;t do that; instead <a href="http://www.readliterature.com/hodjastories.htm" target="_blank"><span style="text-decoration: underline">click on this link</span></a> and get to know him through stories. They&#39;re translated, just like the one I copied here, by Lale Eskicioglu.<br> </span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/03/thing-or-two-about-time-v.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-8288276345156177156?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/J5raMALZ1mqaPO5qB2Auie_akK4/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/J5raMALZ1mqaPO5qB2Auie_akK4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/J5raMALZ1mqaPO5qB2Auie_akK4/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/J5raMALZ1mqaPO5qB2Auie_akK4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/hechX4LOvzI" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com7http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/03/thing-or-two-about-time-v.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-60503057954231008222011-03-14T13:48:00.000-07:002011-03-30T09:37:36.940-07:002011-03-30T09:37:36.940-07:00<span style="font-size: 120%;"><br> <p>A dozen or so flip-flop vendors jumped me as soon as I entered the beach. “Mister you need flip-flops.” “Yes, yes he does.” “Very good flip-flops we have.” “Yes best of the beach.” “They aren’t lying, look how beautiful.” “Hey you! You look! Look at his flip-flops.” “You see? Here, look. Blue, yellow or red. Or flowers? Possible too.” “Yes everything is possible here” “You want lady on flip-flops? Is possible.” “Ehhhh, nice lady eeehh??” “I think he likes the lady.” “You want? You want?” “We make special price for you.” “Yes, you’re our friend now.” “Friend!” “Hey friend, how do you do?” “Hey friend, what’s you’re name?” “Hey friend, where are you from?”</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/03/because-were-all-liars.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-6050305795423100822?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hx039h3uEKWo25ZupyPdJlNG5Go/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hx039h3uEKWo25ZupyPdJlNG5Go/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hx039h3uEKWo25ZupyPdJlNG5Go/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/hx039h3uEKWo25ZupyPdJlNG5Go/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/5SzVz2u7WP0" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com6http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/03/because-were-all-liars.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-63198580052090280892011-03-10T22:37:00.000-08:002011-03-30T09:37:48.301-07:002011-03-30T09:37:48.301-07:00<span style="font-size: 120%;"><br> <p>A walk around the square makes it obvious that their number runs well in the thousands. All are outlined in neat rows and identical in colour, material and diameter. But they look, despite their similarities and disciplined setting, rather messy. There’s a defining difference in height: some have got the ideal stature to only be noticed after one has tripped over them, others are at least twice my size. And to make matters worse: not just the objects vary in tallness, so does the rising and falling ground. Once in the middle of the square one really feels disorientated, because all order seems gone, despite being mostly surrounded by uniformity. Yes, there — in between the concrete blocks that constitute the Holocaust Memorial in Berlin. I’ve read that the design is meant to make me feel disorientated. It’s one of the two feelings the design is supposed to impose; the other one is isolation.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/03/illuminated-emptiness.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-6319858005209028089?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XvraiO0QXaajzdGcJNsxSWG8l4I/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XvraiO0QXaajzdGcJNsxSWG8l4I/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XvraiO0QXaajzdGcJNsxSWG8l4I/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XvraiO0QXaajzdGcJNsxSWG8l4I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/hiu_yJk4fJw" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com7http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/03/illuminated-emptiness.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-1369850700689499172011-03-07T03:02:00.000-08:002011-03-30T09:37:53.895-07:002011-03-30T09:37:53.895-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <p>It happens, it always does. It’s when days grow colder and become dark before the night has started. And still, every year, I manage to forget about it; only when all of a sudden the winter’s dominating grey has been overthrown by a bright combination of yellow, red, and green, only then I’ll remember. The colors will be screaming into my eyes and I’ll curse: “Oh shit, it’s that time of the year again.” Because I’ll recall that at precisely eleven past eleven on the eleventh day of the eleventh month — the day when everything turns colorful — the beginning of the fifth season is celebrated.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/03/fifth-season.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-136985070068949917?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T-aUGaUq1xAcU6dN-riqF0IG4pw/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T-aUGaUq1xAcU6dN-riqF0IG4pw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T-aUGaUq1xAcU6dN-riqF0IG4pw/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T-aUGaUq1xAcU6dN-riqF0IG4pw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/NVsq6FzHF8o" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com2http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/03/fifth-season.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-77642324478759706522011-01-20T08:50:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:39:31.207-07:002011-03-25T13:39:31.207-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <p>Would it be the spectacular finish of our journey or an end long overdue? Before going our separate ways my sister and I would meet for one last time and spend a last three nights and two days in Darjeeling. We met in Bodhgaya, to take the train towards somewhere nearby our final destination. The evening before departure we tried to remember the last time we had spend three weeks together, as intensely as we just had done. If ever, it must’ve been at least twelve years ago, in my case roughly half a life away. Never before had we been able to study so precisely how our behaviour changed when being together. We concluded that the moments we had shared in the past weeks were truly unique.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/01/20110103-three-nights-and-two-days.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-7764232447875970652?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UtvKN0yj68R3H3mR6lGeJm2RbKM/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UtvKN0yj68R3H3mR6lGeJm2RbKM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UtvKN0yj68R3H3mR6lGeJm2RbKM/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UtvKN0yj68R3H3mR6lGeJm2RbKM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/OUH9x8CjROQ" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com1http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/01/20110103-three-nights-and-two-days.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-62565027838004020232011-01-17T07:09:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:41:53.598-07:002011-03-25T13:41:53.598-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <p>So it came to be that the prince sat underneath that very tree for forty-nine days and became Buddha. Today an offspring of the offspring of that very tree marks that spot in Bodhgaya, Bihar. Its beauty accentuated by the surrounding temple complex: The Mahabodhi Temple. The main building has a history chronicling back many centuries. Recently, Buddhists from Buddhist countries have constructed their own temples in its vicinity. All are lushly decorated with bright colors, rich ornaments, and green gardens; they sooth my eye and leave me impressed. However, they disturb me too; here in Bihar — one of the poorest states of India — their grandeur feels out of place. Poverty is staring at me through the large eyes of two naked children, playing in a pile of garbage next to a temple.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/01/20101230-towards-enlightenment.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-6256502783800402023?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/94EachrdpbUO-KXqJGApubs-_dM/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/94EachrdpbUO-KXqJGApubs-_dM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/94EachrdpbUO-KXqJGApubs-_dM/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/94EachrdpbUO-KXqJGApubs-_dM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/_pRmp1GvG8M" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com1http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/01/20101230-towards-enlightenment.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-44819707530150814422011-01-10T22:42:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:41:24.693-07:002011-03-25T13:41:24.693-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <p>There are wonderful things one could write about the old part of Varanasi. It’s a labyrinth of small alleys and full of shops selling all kinds of exciting exotica. Behind every corner new surprises patiently await discovery. There are many houses of worship; most shrines are of a staggering beauty. Even so, it’s only a matter of time before your eyes start to gaze upwards, where attractive old facades are waiting to please your sense of beauty. Some have magnificent colored ornaments and in between the residences a few trees have managed to grow in most unimaginable ways.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/01/20101228-heart-to-give.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-4481970753015081442?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2cQneJ4lZj5J-6qskm4lxBjbOXM/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2cQneJ4lZj5J-6qskm4lxBjbOXM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2cQneJ4lZj5J-6qskm4lxBjbOXM/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2cQneJ4lZj5J-6qskm4lxBjbOXM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/taIuQ5uBYlY" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com2http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/01/20101228-heart-to-give.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-75543455402348328012011-01-02T09:15:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:42:22.869-07:002011-03-25T13:42:22.869-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <p>What I haven’t mentioned yet is we stayed at friends of my sister in Delhi. They’re a couple and both active in the hospitality industry. Every morning we received the most delicious chai and throughout the day we were spoiled with marvelous Indian food. For one week we were in nirvana. Oke, it was a nirvana where I managed to electrocute myself when intending to shower, but still, it was a week worthwhile remembering. In Delhi my sister and I did things on our own and her friends showed us a little around. Amongst others we celebrated one night out in one of the hottest places in town. And it wasn’t just any night, it was Christmas Eve. We attended an elusive X-mas party.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/01/20101225-x-mas-party.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-7554345540234832801?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RYMNfxCVotjN4PYgMiiHKqnsJvw/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RYMNfxCVotjN4PYgMiiHKqnsJvw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RYMNfxCVotjN4PYgMiiHKqnsJvw/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RYMNfxCVotjN4PYgMiiHKqnsJvw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/P_UvfvMzhbM" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com0http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/01/20101225-x-mas-party.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-64699695733857805812011-01-02T05:09:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:42:45.926-07:002011-03-25T13:42:45.926-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <p>Whenever I pass a pond I want to throw a stone in it. The collision with the water is wonderful. The waves emerging afterwards have something destructive and spiritual about them. A while ago someone, who probably shared my feelings about ponds and stones, passed by Delhi and threw Connaught Place in it. Connaught Place is an inheritance of British Colonialism and now a metro station with a park on top. Around it is a large roundabout; the first circular wave on which cars surf. In between the next ones is a shopping extravaganza. The waves run furthest down south, along luxury hotels, exclusive apartments, important offices and more shops. The last days I’ve spend many hours exploring this pond. I was seduced by its debaucheries.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/01/20101223-walking-in-circles.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-6469969573385780581?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WK191Qe0ZsG_r3WChv7HYc-0CPo/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WK191Qe0ZsG_r3WChv7HYc-0CPo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WK191Qe0ZsG_r3WChv7HYc-0CPo/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WK191Qe0ZsG_r3WChv7HYc-0CPo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/DUyBRsmeMic" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com0http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2011/01/20101223-walking-in-circles.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-58141262314613578332010-12-29T09:20:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:43:10.279-07:002011-03-25T13:43:10.279-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <p>About one million soldiers and six million native inhabitants live within Kashmir’s borders. It’s therefore not surprising that the military presence is overwhelming. To say the Hindu soldiers and Muslim civilians live together peacefully wouldn’t be an overstatement; it would be a misunderstanding. In the past months alone they’ve exchanged stones and bullets at such a rate that over a hundred people have died in Srinagar alone.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101219-where-winter-wives-wither.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-5814126231461357833?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-1wdOLXatNEw-YdRACEAhRmVtw8/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-1wdOLXatNEw-YdRACEAhRmVtw8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-1wdOLXatNEw-YdRACEAhRmVtw8/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-1wdOLXatNEw-YdRACEAhRmVtw8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/YZK1t0FFm7o" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com0http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101219-where-winter-wives-wither.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-56974866578048555112010-12-23T22:14:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:43:34.650-07:002011-03-25T13:43:34.650-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <br> <p>Only somewhere halfway my ride from Patnitop to Srinagar I started to really pay attention to awkward signs along the road. A little bit later I made a few pictures.</p><br> <br> <br> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SwYaRmxNVj4/TRQs7rxbHxI/AAAAAAAAASk/8FTgDRc07hw/s1600/bro+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SwYaRmxNVj4/TRQs7rxbHxI/AAAAAAAAASk/8FTgDRc07hw/s320/bro+7.jpg" width="190"></a></div><br> </span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101218-laughing-at-death.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-5697486657804855511?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sZVeCUfRu45cNI7MicFo0II8qHs/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sZVeCUfRu45cNI7MicFo0II8qHs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sZVeCUfRu45cNI7MicFo0II8qHs/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sZVeCUfRu45cNI7MicFo0II8qHs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/EYieAH4p7-M" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com0http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101218-laughing-at-death.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-11509071460254495062010-12-23T22:12:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:44:12.868-07:002011-03-25T13:44:12.868-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <p>A man offered my sister and I a ride to Srinagar. You might think this was out of generosity, but we were invited because we had to save his life. He told us he was very tired and wanted to see his wife and children as soon as possible; essentially, two things could happen, either he would fall asleep behind steering wheel, or he would drive too fast and crash into a car and/or the bottom of a ravine. Our presence was required to prevent this. Why did we enter his vehicle? Again, there were two reasons. First of all, he only told us about our purpose once we were driving and secondly, Kashmiri have a great sense of humor.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101218-heavenly-if-not-divine-really.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-1150907146025449506?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CXWZWZBykZvCpLW8v7QB0pAj2Sk/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CXWZWZBykZvCpLW8v7QB0pAj2Sk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CXWZWZBykZvCpLW8v7QB0pAj2Sk/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CXWZWZBykZvCpLW8v7QB0pAj2Sk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/ctdAkhBRQ0g" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com0http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101218-heavenly-if-not-divine-really.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-10459444583920629622010-12-18T02:53:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:44:41.419-07:002011-03-25T13:44:41.419-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <br> <p>“Why is it so foggy in the afternoon?” “It’s a promise of snow.” Good guides don’t talk much. My sister had made an excellent choice. Yesterday we visited Pahalgam and today we had a trip to Sonamarg. It was wonderful. Although, I didn’t see many sheep, but since when do I care about that? Here are a few pictures:</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101217-promise-of-snow.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-1045944458392062962?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/v_Y1DzOJjUlle-nE8r2XCyEWtkc/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/v_Y1DzOJjUlle-nE8r2XCyEWtkc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/v_Y1DzOJjUlle-nE8r2XCyEWtkc/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/v_Y1DzOJjUlle-nE8r2XCyEWtkc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/Z2t7ZBFZ4vg" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com2http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101217-promise-of-snow.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-9053663999606631272010-12-18T02:35:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:45:42.021-07:002011-03-25T13:45:42.021-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <br> <p>Our gondola operator has one of the most fantastic smiles I’ve seen in a while. He’s old, grey hairs come from underneath his traditional hat and time has carved his face. His movements though, are still powerful. Even stronger are his eyes. One can see many twinkles boiling inside them with a bright intensity. And then there’s this mysterious yet boyish grin; putting all his wrinkles in a wonderful non-symmetrical alignment; showing off white teeth; raising the right part his upper lip a little higher. He accentuates all by tilting his head slightly to the left. This smile welcomed my sister and I as we went offshore, to one of the famous houseboats in Srinagar.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101215-my-imaginary-friend.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-905366399960663127?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/10v0TMay-mD_tnTGm3MaRvgo7XY/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/10v0TMay-mD_tnTGm3MaRvgo7XY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/10v0TMay-mD_tnTGm3MaRvgo7XY/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/10v0TMay-mD_tnTGm3MaRvgo7XY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/wkz9VR8SGUo" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com0http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101215-my-imaginary-friend.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-38880587879797900622010-12-14T04:38:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:46:02.284-07:002011-03-25T13:46:02.284-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <br> <p>Every year in the Netherlands there is a time when newspapers have nothing noteworthy to write about. This period, when even news about cucumbers is considered worth publishing, is coined as: “Cucumber time”. My sister and I are in such a period. The only things we’ve done in the past two days is a little travelling, eating, watching James Bond movies and more eating, especially candy. However it seems it’s not just cucumber time for us. Today we’ve had our fifteen seconds of fame.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101213-cucumber-time-in-jammu-kashmir.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-3888058787979790062?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OxQC0DSbNUY_W0qlqb5gpOH4VFU/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OxQC0DSbNUY_W0qlqb5gpOH4VFU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OxQC0DSbNUY_W0qlqb5gpOH4VFU/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OxQC0DSbNUY_W0qlqb5gpOH4VFU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/YS3HmoacBhI" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com2http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101213-cucumber-time-in-jammu-kashmir.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-6635731316473550202010-12-14T04:01:00.001-08:002011-03-25T15:03:03.406-07:002011-03-25T15:03:03.406-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <br> <p>A monkey stole my flowers… I stepped in mule dung not once, but at least a hundred times; a few strange men offered me candy. It was all worth it. Today my sister and I went up to the Shri Mata Vaishno Devi Shrine. This is one of the most revered places in India. Actually, it’s a cave. It’s where a manifestation of the Divine Mother has meditated for about nine months. It’s there that a man was beheaded with such a force that his head flew for about two kilometers through the air. Every day, an average of twenty-two thousand pilgrims hike for twenty-six-kilometer, some barefooted, to make a wish at the shrine.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101211-jai-mata-di.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-663573131647355020?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8sV0STJPb7tDEcmv89tS2xqcqaw/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8sV0STJPb7tDEcmv89tS2xqcqaw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8sV0STJPb7tDEcmv89tS2xqcqaw/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8sV0STJPb7tDEcmv89tS2xqcqaw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/yJpHgyAc0gs" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com2http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101211-jai-mata-di.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-33057082015702160402010-12-14T03:59:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:47:18.113-07:002011-03-25T13:47:18.113-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <br> <p>“Warm days and cold nights; today my sister and I have arrived in Jammu. I welcome the mountainous and rough landscape with a certain excitement. What could there be behind that top? Have you heard how quiet it is and smelled the fresh air? The crowded rickshaw ridden and stinking cities are behind me.” This is what I had hoped to write. The reality however is grim; I’m at the hotel with a sore throat from all the smog; we have no cell phone coverage due to imposed restrictions; more people than usual look unkind — The Dutch ministry of foreign affairs advices not to travel to Jammu and Kashmir.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101209-up-north.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-3305708201570216040?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AFWRGo2NxIUjNOc1heISNGC8rGI/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AFWRGo2NxIUjNOc1heISNGC8rGI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AFWRGo2NxIUjNOc1heISNGC8rGI/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AFWRGo2NxIUjNOc1heISNGC8rGI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/oD4n9Gxzi-4" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com0http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101209-up-north.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-57036357625735680882010-12-07T23:55:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:47:40.867-07:002011-03-25T13:47:40.867-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <br> <p>Being driven on the Indian road is a little like going to the cinema. Sometimes beautiful landscapes unfold themselves before you. Soon after, or at the same time, it might appear you’re involved in an action packed high-speed car chase; it doesn’t matter in what lane anyone drives as long as things go as fast as possible. The roads have, in case you wonder if, or pray that, you’re dreaming, very convenient placed bumps and holes. Whenever the bus hits one you’ll instantly know you’re awake and, usually, a few seconds later you’re still alive. It could of course also be that a horror movie was scheduled. You travel at night and the only lights, which come from your own car, illuminate gloomy shadows lurking behind trees. Or was that just a monkey? Probably you’ve been watching something romantic all along, because you witness a magnificent sunrise or sunset and see how a couple embraces each other on a motorbike. One thing is certain: India’s roads are never boring.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101207-still-on-road.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-5703635762573568088?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lz5enEOB1AzyBVoizAZO2e1yeUM/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lz5enEOB1AzyBVoizAZO2e1yeUM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lz5enEOB1AzyBVoizAZO2e1yeUM/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lz5enEOB1AzyBVoizAZO2e1yeUM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/JLOFIXFcZ_I" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com1http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101207-still-on-road.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-32247518060803301662010-12-06T03:47:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:48:02.610-07:002011-03-25T13:48:02.610-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <br> <p>The Lonely Planet mentions that India thrives on its railroad network and now I can tell you: so do India’s cockroaches. However it doesn’t take long to get used to these tiny creatures. It’s not as if anyone has a choice. Soon I decided to name one, who was exploring an area not far away from my bag, Timmy. Then I wanted to settle on a different name for its companion, who was busy sightseeing nearby my right shoe. They were surprisingly hard to tell apart, so difficult that even Timmy1 and Timmy2 wouldn’t make any sense. As time progressed I noticed Timmy and Timmy were far from alone.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101206-on-road.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-3224751806080330166?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/U7-Kut4kDZoGRhEhLPt2uWEolYg/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/U7-Kut4kDZoGRhEhLPt2uWEolYg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/U7-Kut4kDZoGRhEhLPt2uWEolYg/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/U7-Kut4kDZoGRhEhLPt2uWEolYg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/lIeVdWH9eTQ" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com2http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101206-on-road.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-51320376440406061112010-12-03T23:37:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:48:37.537-07:002011-03-25T13:48:37.537-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <br> <p>Yesterday I got introduced to a part of India that wasn’t dirty, smelly, noisy or simply downright hideous. I got to tour Agra Fort and it was absolutely marvellous. Today India became even more exciting as I visited the Taj Mahal. Unaware of topography when I was little (actually I still am) I thought this mausoleum was the ultimate thousand-and-one-night castle. I imagined Scheherazade sitting at a window, telling her stories about Ali Baba, while she now and then glanced at her predecessors’ bloody heads, which were displayed on lances along the calm water. Nowadays I, of course, think I know better.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101204-behind-shades-of-india.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-5132037644040606111?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nDlYMusIAfMdSvMpLjj1VkmBf28/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nDlYMusIAfMdSvMpLjj1VkmBf28/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nDlYMusIAfMdSvMpLjj1VkmBf28/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/nDlYMusIAfMdSvMpLjj1VkmBf28/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/iJUxV1jcF0o" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com1http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101204-behind-shades-of-india.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-61763535231288833172010-12-02T03:56:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:49:31.551-07:002011-03-25T13:49:31.551-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <br> <p>It wasn’t new to me honking car horns is the number one national pastime in India. The superfluous noise making should, or probably did already, inspire a conductor to make a symphony. However I wouldn’t have thought the yearning for attention was so excessive. In extreme moments it feels like a horde of extremely loud wasps is following me wherever I go. In more quiet times it just seems I’m in the middle of a pond full of angry ducks, who are vigorously quacking at each other. I’m happy to be in India.</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101202-swarm-of-angry-ducks.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-6176353523128883317?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2jUoKOFRoP3EyUIAHJp9H4X58og/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2jUoKOFRoP3EyUIAHJp9H4X58og/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2jUoKOFRoP3EyUIAHJp9H4X58og/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2jUoKOFRoP3EyUIAHJp9H4X58og/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/zVSDFqNdw_A" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com1http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101202-swarm-of-angry-ducks.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-8775125595079107172010-12-02T03:54:00.000-08:002011-03-25T13:49:57.145-07:002011-03-25T13:49:57.145-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br> <br> <p>The first half of my flight to New Delhi would be operated by KLM and end in Moscow. Part two would be handled by Aeroflot. Aeroflot? Yes, Aeroflot, you heard that right. No, I haven’t got a sudden death wish. Yes, I’ve read those. No, I don’t take those Internet comments too serious. No, I’m not worried at all. Ehmm… Yes, now I’m in Moscow. Why? Do you really have to ask? Well, I’ve got a delay of almost ten hours and no one can say with certainty that my flight will depart tomorrow. You were right, happy now?</p></span><a href="http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101130-goodbye-home-welcome.html#more">--&gt; CONTINUE READING&lt;--</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-877512559507910717?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eHF7ncMZnsUAvvthJcaV4z309BU/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eHF7ncMZnsUAvvthJcaV4z309BU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eHF7ncMZnsUAvvthJcaV4z309BU/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eHF7ncMZnsUAvvthJcaV4z309BU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/ZZDpGgWtglI" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com1http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/20101130-goodbye-home-welcome.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7885714512725445908.post-20911367278335292912010-12-02T03:49:00.000-08:002011-03-16T23:48:22.784-07:002011-03-16T23:48:22.784-07:00<span style="font-size: 110%;"><br /> <br /> I'll be on other holidays, so completing posts about going to Jordan will be on a halt.<br /> <br /> </span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7885714512725445908-2091136727833529291?l=cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div> <p><a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/thLQf8n5QAmxMdkOhD0Dp7RdIvc/0/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/thLQf8n5QAmxMdkOhD0Dp7RdIvc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a><br/> <a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/thLQf8n5QAmxMdkOhD0Dp7RdIvc/1/da"><img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/thLQf8n5QAmxMdkOhD0Dp7RdIvc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"></img></a></p><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/CloudsAndDaffodils/~4/QG3E8k0wmEA" height="1" width="1"/>Clouds and Daffodilshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08872734593349397147noreply@blogger.com0http://cloudsanddaffodils.blogspot.com/2010/12/intermezzo.html