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عید چینیها _ CHINESE FESTIVAL |
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پنجشنبه بیست و چهارم اسفند 1385-2:9
-IT IS ME |
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The Spring Festival is the most important festival for the Chinese people and is when all family members get together, just like Christmas in the West. All people living away from home go back, becoming the busiest time for transportation systems of about half a month from the Spring Festival. Airports, railway stations and long-distance bus stations are crowded with home returnees.
The Spring Festival falls on the 1st day of the 1st lunar month, often one month later than the Gregorian calendar. It originated in the Shang Dynasty (c. 1600 BC-c. 1100 BC) from the people's sacrifice to gods and ancestors at the end of an old year and the beginning of a new one.
Strictly speaking, the Spring Festival starts every year in the early days of the 12th lunar month and will last till the mid 1st lunar month of the next year. Of them, the most important days are Spring Festival Eve and the first three days. The Chinese government now stipulates people have seven days off for the Chinese Lunar New Year.
Many customs accompany the Spring Festival. Some are still followed today, but others have weakened.
On the 8th day of the 12th lunar month, many families make laba porridge, a delicious kind of porridge made with glutinous rice, millet, seeds of Job's tears, jujube berries, lotus seeds, beans, longan and gingko.
The 23rd day of the 12th lunar month is called Preliminary Eve. At this time, people offer sacrifice to the kitchen god. Now however, most families make delicious food to enjoy themselves.
After the Preliminary Eve, people begin preparing for the coming New Year. This is called "Seeing the New Year in".
Store owners are busy then as everybody goes out to purchase necessities for the New Year. Materials not only include edible oil, rice, flour, chicken, duck, fish and meat, but also fruit, candies and kinds of nuts. What's more, various decorations, new clothes and shoes for the children as well as gifts for the elderly, friends and relatives, are all on the list of purchasing.
Before the New Year comes, the people completely clean the indoors and outdoors of their homes as well as their clothes, bedclothes and all their utensils.
Then people begin decorating their clean rooms featuring an atmosphere of rejoicing and festivity. All the door panels will be pasted with Spring Festival couplets, highlighting Chinese calligraphy with black characters on red paper. The content varies from house owners' wishes for a bright future to good luck for the New Year. Also, pictures of the god of doors and wealth will be posted on front doors to ward off evil spirits and welcome peace and abundance.
The Chinese character "fu" (meaning blessing or happiness) is a must. The character put on paper can be pasted normally or upside down, for in Chinese the "reversed fu" is homophonic with "fu comes", both being pronounced as "fudaole." What's more, two big red lanterns can be raised on both sides of the front door. Red paper-cuttings can be seen on window glass and brightly colored New Year paintings with auspicious meanings may be put on the wall.
People attach great importance to Spring Festival Eve. At that time, all family members eat dinner together. The meal is more luxurious than usual. Dishes such as chicken, fish and bean curd cannot be excluded, for in Chinese, their pronunciations, respectively "ji", "yu" and "doufu," mean auspiciousness, abundance and richness. After the dinner, the whole family will sit together, chatting and watching TV. In recent years, the Spring Festival party broadcast on China Central Television Station (CCTV) is essential entertainment for the Chinese both at home and abroad. According to custom, each family will stay up to see the New Year in.
Waking up on New Year, everybody dresses up. First they extend greetings to their parents. Then each child will get money as a New Year gift, wrapped up in red paper. People in northern China will eat jiaozi, or dumplings, for breakfast, as they think "jiaozi" in sound means "bidding farewell to the old and ushering in the new". Also, the shape of the dumpling is like gold ingot from ancient China. So people eat them and wish for money and treasure.
Southern Chinese eat niangao (New Year cake made of glutinous rice flour) on this occasion, because as a homophone, niangao means "higher and higher, one year after another." The first five days after the Spring Festival are a good time for relatives, friends, and classmates as well as colleagues to exchange greetings, gifts and chat leisurely.
Burning fireworks was once the most typical custom on the Spring Festival. People thought the spluttering sound could help drive away evil spirits. However, such an activity was completely or partially forbidden in big cities once the government took security, noise and pollution factors into consideration. As a replacement, some buy tapes with firecracker sounds to listen to, some break little balloons to get the sound too, while others buy firecracker handicrafts to hang in the living room.
The lively atmosphere not only fills every household, but permeates to streets and lanes. A series of activities such as lion dancing, dragon lantern dancing, lantern festivals and temple fairs will be held for days. The Spring Festival then comes to an end when the Lantern Festival is finished.
China has 56 ethnic groups. Minorities celebrate their Spring Festival almost the same day as the Han people, and they have different customs.
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MY VALUBLE DAUGHTER |
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پنجشنبه بیست و چهارم اسفند 1385-1:54
-IT IS ME |
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 I HAVE A GOOD DAUGHTER, I LOVE HER. BUT, SHE DOESNT KNOW THAT.
SHE IS SO SINCERE AND CONFIDENCE. SO HONEST, AND GOOD GIRL IN HER BEHAVIOUR.
BUT,...
SHE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO ATTRACT OUR ATTENTION BY HER OWN POLICY. SHE DOESNT LISTEN TO SOME OF MY ORDERS, NOT ORDERS, BUT, MY SINCERE WORDS.
I HOPE TO GET RESULT FOR MY PATIENCE, FOR SHE DESERVE THIS PATIENCE!
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UNEXPECTED IMAGE |
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پنجشنبه بیست و چهارم اسفند 1385-1:39
-IT IS ME |
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http://i6.tinypic.com/23li33c.jpg
PLS CLIK ON THE ABOVE LINK.
AFTER THAT YOU CAN FOCOS ON 4 DOTS IN VERTICAL FOR 30 SECONDS.
THEN, TRY TO CLOSE YOUR EYS, WITH YOUR FINGERS.
AND THEN SEE THE ABOVE FROM BEHIND THE EYE SHIELDS.
SURE, YOU WILL BE SO SURPRIZED.
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یه تصویر غیرقابل پیش بینی |
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پنجشنبه بیست و چهارم اسفند 1385-1:36
-IT IS ME |
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چند وقت پیش به وبلاگ این جوونا سری زدم. یه مطلب خیلی جالب دیدم. یه لینک این پایینه. بازش کنین.
http://i6.tinypic.com/23li33c.jpg
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دخترم |
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چهارشنبه بیست و سوم اسفند 1385-1:52
-IT IS ME |
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دخترم دختر بسیار صادق اصیل و راستگوییه. خیلی دوستش دارم. اما نمیدونم چرا اینقدر بی سیاسته و نمیذاره عشقم رو بهش نشون بدم.
اصلا و ابدا با این همه خصائص خاص و برجسته ای که داره چرا سعی نمیکنه ازش تشکر کنیم. حرف گوش کردنش میتونه کلی روابط رو عوض کنه.حتی از کوچکترین موضوع برای شاد کردن ما استفاده نمیکنه!!!؟؟؟؟
اما با این حال میدونم که میتونه جو خونه رو به سمت خودش بکشونه چون واقعا پاک و اصیله و ارزش انتظار کشیدن ما برای تغییر او را داره.
به امید اون روز! |
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یه روز خوب |
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سه شنبه بیست و دوم اسفند 1385-0:11
-IT IS ME |
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امشب شوهرم و دخترم غافلگیرم کردن. از راه رسیدم دیدم یه دسته گل نرگس و زنبق تو گلدونه و یه کیک کوچولو واسم خریده بودن. من از صبح زده بودم بیرون و در یک چنین روزی با خودم خلوت کرده بودم. غافلگیر شدم!
تا سال دیگه!
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روز تولد من 21 اسفند ماه |
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دوشنبه بیست و یکم اسفند 1385-0:56
-IT IS ME |
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امروز روز تولد منه. روز متفاوتی نبود. فقط یه سرخوشی خاص بی دلیلی در خودم حس می کردم. در یک چنین روزی در ساعت ۲ صبح بدنیا آمدم. نمی دونم چرا اما بدنیا دعوت شدم. پس باید مسیرو ادامه بدم ببینم تا کی مهمون بازی ادامه داره. سعی می کنم درست قدم بردارم اما نمی دونم این درست کجا تعریف شده. آیا تعریف خاصی برای کیفیت زندگی کردن وجود داره؟
گمشده دارم. دعا کنین پیداش کنم. سختیش اینه که مادی نیست و معنویه! |
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یک نگاه عاشقانه |
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یکشنبه سیزدهم اسفند 1385-0:18
-IT IS ME |
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يک نگاه عاشقانه
زن احساس کرد دوست دارد گلوي شوهرش را با ميلههاي بافتني توي دستش، سوراخ سوراخ کند.
مرد گفت:
((چه نگاه قشنگي داري. تا به حال نديده بودم اينطور نگاهم کني.))
و جلو رفت تا او را ببوسد.
رضا ناظم
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داستانی دیگر "inside out it" |
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دوشنبه هجدهم دی 1385-15:53
-IT IS ME |
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He taught me to inside out it.
Two years ago, my friend Mike suggested that I write my own column. Back then, I was writing a newspaper column, but not the type I most wanted to write. Editors kept telling me that there wasn't a market for a column about moments. And, sadly, I was beginning to believe them.
Until Mike told me that I should inside out it. Which, he explained, meant that I should start at the end, and simply do it to be it. So that, if I wanted to be a columnist, I should just be one, and begin writing my own online column.
So I did.
Then, he followed his own advice. Ten months ago, Mike told me that he wanted to write a movie script. At first, I was skeptical because, in the past, he has had some trouble finishing things. As most of us do
But, this time, it was different. He bought screenwriting books and struggled through crafting his story. He spent late nights at a bookstore, working on scenes and making his characters real. He began to talk like a screenwriter.
Then, last week, he told me that he had finished. In ten months, he had gone from someone buying a screenwriting book to someone finishing a script.
He had moved. It had hurt. On some days, it had hurt bad. But he did it.
He had taught himself to inside out it. And, somewhere along the way to wanting to be a screenwriter, he became one.
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علت خودکشی دسته جمعی نهنگ ها؟ |
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دوشنبه هجدهم دی 1385-15:50
-IT IS ME |
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خودکشی نهنگ ها هر چند سالی در اخبار و روزنامه ها شنیده می شود که عده ای از نهنگ ها به صورت دسته جمعی خود را به ساحل می زنند ، از آب خارج شده و در معرض خشکی قرار می گیرند . هر بار خبرنگاران زیادی این موضوع را پوشش می دهند ، افراد زیادی هم برای تماشای این صحنه به سواحل می روند و عده ای هم برای کمک به نجات نهنگ ها می شتابند که در نهایت تنها تعداد بسیار قلیلی از این نهنگ ها نجات می یابند و اکثر آنها تلف می شوند . جالب اینجاست که دانشمندان ، محققین و زیست شناسان زیادی برای کشف علت این خودکشی دسته جمعی مطالعه می کنند و با اینکه علم تا این حد پیشرفت کرده اما هنوز مشکل ، درد و یا علت اصلی این خودکشی را پیدا نکرده اند .
آیا شما چیزی در این مورد میدونین؟ |
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یک داستان دیگر"The Holly Trees" |
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پنجشنبه چهاردهم دی 1385-12:5
-IT IS ME |
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Growing up in the sixties wasn't easy when your parents were divorced and your dad seemed to have disappeared off the face of the planet - especially when everyone else seemed to be living like Ozzie and Harriet. And although my mom worked hard to keep us clothed and fed, when Christmastime rolled around, life suddenly seemed rather bleak and barren. About the time of the school Christmas party, all I could think about was making that three-hour drive to my grandparents' house where Christmas was really Christmas. Where food and relatives abounded, and artificial trees, like the cheesy tin-foil job in our tiny living room, were not allowed. You see, every year, my grandpa cut down a tree tall enough to touch the high ceiling in their old Victorian house. We often got to help; but some years, especially if we arrived just before Christmas, the tree would already be up, but we'd still help decorate it.
One year, just two days before Christmas, we arrived and the tree wasn't up. I asked Grandpa if we were going out to the woods to get one. He just smiled his little half smile, blue eyes twinkling mischievously, and said we weren't going out to the woods this year. I worried and watched my grandpa all afternoon, wondering what we were going to do about the tree, but he just went about his business as if nothing whatsoever was unusual. Finally just after dinner, Grandpa went and got his ax. At last, I thought, we are going to cut down a tree. But in the dark?
Grandpa grinned and told me to come outside. I followed him, wondering where he could cut a tree down at night. My grandparents' large home was situated on a small lot in the middle of town, with no U-cut trees anywhere nearby. But Grandpa went out to the parking strip next to their house and began whacking away at the trunk of one of his own mature holly trees - the tallest one, a beautiful tree loaded with bright red berries. I stared at him, in silent shock. What in the world was he doing? And what would Grandma say?
"The city says I gotta cut these trees down," he explained between whacks. "They're too close to the street. I figure if I take one out each Christmas, it will keep us in trees for three years." He grinned down at me, and the tree fell. Then my sister and I helped him carry it into the house, getting poked and pricked with every step of the way. I still wasn't sure what I thought about having a holly tree for a Christmas tree. I'd never heard of such a thing.
But when we had the tree in the stand and situated in its place of honor in one of the big bay windows, I knew that it was not a mistake. It was absolutely gorgeous. We all just stood and stared at its dark green glossy leaves and abundant bright red berries. "It's so beautiful," said Grandma. "It doesn't even need decorations." But my sister and I loved the process of decorating, and we insisted it did. We began to hang lights and ornaments - carefully. It isn't easy decorating a holly tree. But with each new poke we laughed and complained good-naturedly.
For three years, we had holly trees for Christmas. And now, whenever I get pricked by holly, I think of Grandpa.
Later on in life, after my grandpa passed away, I learned about the symbolism of holly and why we use it at Christmas — and how the red berries represent droplets of Christ's blood. I don't know if my grandpa knew about all that, but he did know how to be a father to the fatherless. And he knew how to salvage good from evil. My grandpa didn't like to waste anything.
 
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A STORY |
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چهارشنبه سیزدهم دی 1385-2:1
-IT IS ME |
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"The Rose Babies"
Most people press a flower in a book when they wish to keep it as a memento. My mother doesn't believe in preserving a memory by hiding it. Her motto is, "Don't press it! When will you look at it again tucked away in a book? Make it grow! Enjoy its beauty as a living flower, not as a withered keepsake."
That's my mother. She can make anything grow.
Recently, Mom received a mixed bouquet of flowers from her sister for her birthday. She is especially fond of roses and was delighted to find two roses in the bouquet. "Oh, look at the lovely roses. I've never seen such a beautiful shade of peach in a rose. I must save it as a souvenir."
I have seen this process many times, but I watch in awe each time. She takes one of the roses and cuts the bottom at an angle with a pair of scissors, wraps the bottom in a dampened paper towel and places the rose in a plastic bag to keep it moist.
Now I know it's my turn. The magic is about to begin. I run to the pantry to get a quart jar, once used for canning peaches.
"Here's the enchanted glass jar," I announce, as I return with it.
We head for her lilac bush. I carry the jar and the plastic bag that contains the rose. She carries warm water in an old coffee can, bent so that it has a spout on each side of it. My mother deliberately keeps her lilac bush overgrown. She trims it in such a way that it becomes fat and dense. The soil beneath it is damp and warm. She easily digs a hole with her hands and places the rose cutting in the hole. I help her carefully pack the dirt around the rose. She places the glass jar over the rose, and firmly twists it into the ground.
Finally, she gives the rose a drink, pointing the spout of the coffee can to the bottom of the glass jar. She whispers, "Oh, little rose, let me warm your toes, this'll keep you safe when the cold wind blows. See you in the spring, little rose."
"Little rose is all ready for her long winter's nap," she explains to me as we walk back to the house.
My mother is shameless when it comes to asking for a rose from someone's front yard or their garden. But no one ever refuses her request. And one time, the giver was especially glad she had shared her bounty.
It was a lovely summer day. My mother and I were walking past our neighbor Dorothy working in her garden. My mother stopped to admire one of Dorothy's roses.
"I've never seen such a beautiful lavender rose, blending into silver at the edge of the petals. Would you mind if I choose one to enjoy?" she asked Dorothy. Proud of her special lavender rosebush, Dorothy was delighted to cut the rose and graciously hand it to my mother. But the lavender rose did not go into a vase, as Dorothy probably assumed. It joined the others under the lilac bush, protected under its very own glass jar.
That Christmas Dorothy told us that the beautiful lavender rosebush had been stricken by disease in the fall, and it couldn't be saved. "It was my favorite," she said sadly, "and I haven't been able to find another to replace it."
Spring was delayed that year, but finally the fear of frost was gone. My mother was eager to uncover her rose cuttings, each protected under its miniature greenhouse.
"I wonder how many of my rose babies will be ready to begin their new lives?" she mused.
As always, I watched in amazement as my mother uncovered her rose babies. Carefully, she twisted the first glass jar from the warm earth: It was the lavender rose clipping. Would that beautiful rose be reborn? She spied a baby shoot, a tiny leaf peeking its way through the stem. Indeed, the lavender rose was alive.
Mom whispered to me, "Wait until late summer, and I'll have a surprise for Dorothy. I'll nourish our baby, and it'll thrive into a beautiful bush. She'll have her lavender rosebush again. It'll be our secret until then."
And sure enough, late that summer, Dorothy cried for joy as she received her surprise – a healthy new lavender rosebush.
On the card was the following:
Here's a small gift from my garden to you.
It began the day someone gave me a rose, too.
I planted that rose in the good, warm earth,
And I nurtured it – hence its happy rebirth.
After you've planted this gift and it grows,
To keep up the cycle, may I impose?
If I may be bold, do you suppose,
That I might request its very first rose?
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شنبه نهم دی 1385-3:20
-IT IS ME |
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I LIKE TO TALK MORE ABOUT MY DEAR FRIEND IN CHINA, WITH THE NAME OF HENRY. KIND, SINCERE, PATIANT, AND LOVELY. A REAL HARDWORKING MAN IN CHINA.
HOPE HE WILL BE GLAD FOR HIS LAST BUSINESS.
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شنبه نهم دی 1385-1:16
-IT IS ME |
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:WHO KNOWS HOW CAN I GET RIDE OF MY DISEASE
??(Hiatal Hernia, and (GERD
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شنبه نهم دی 1385-0:54
-IT IS ME |
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I DO MY JOB BY INTERNET. AND IT IS FROM 26 DEC. WHICH THIS TERRIBLE EARTHQUAKE HAPPENED. PLEASE SEE WHAT HAPPENED FOR MSN, YAHOO MESSENGER AND EMAILS .
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شنبه نهم دی 1385-0:48
-IT IS ME |
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| Internet Cable Damaged Badly by Taiwan Earthquake |
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2006-12-28 10:27:18 |
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Access to overseas websites from the Chinese mainland slowed to a crawl yesterday as a powerful earthquake off the Taiwan coast knocked off international undersea fibre-optic cables on Tuesday, affecting communications around Asia.
China Telecom Corp, the mainland‘s largest fixed-line carrier, said six undersea cables were cut off 15 kilometers from the southern coast of Taiwan, causing severe Internet congestion on the mainland. International voice calls were also affected.
A survey by Internet portal Sina.com yesterday showed that 97 percent of Internet users on the mainland had difficulty accessing overseas websites, and 57 percent said their lives and work were
Hong Kong Computer Emergency Response Team Coordination Center Manager Roy Ko said it might take months to repair the cables. .
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CHRISTMAS |
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جمعه هشتم دی 1385-1:24
-IT IS ME |
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NEW YEAR 2007 IS COMING, HERE I WOULD WISH YOU IN ADVANCE ALL BEST IN THE CHRISTMAS TIME AND ALSO FOR NEW YEAR 2007. MANY SMILE, GOOD HEALTH, MANY SUCCESS IN PRIVATE LIFE AND OF COURSE IN BUSINESS.
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