Plasmadonations/california

the animals speak Arabic


I visit daily blog A Child Is Born Muslim and usually it happens that an impulse seizes me: Print , print, print!

In recent days, Umm An-Nu'man (Jazaha Allahu khairan) has created some cards / activity in animals (in Arabic) and how could I not think about my seeing these mujahedeen mini puzzles ?!

whether patients a few days, Insha Allah, will post the other activities on My house my school , with attached explanation.

... it's worth it, believe me!

Replacement Seat For Walker

not call bat bot




The initial idea was that the pants I fried ... quindi preparato il solito impasto per pizza e l'ho lasciato lievitare. Peccato che poi, l'idea di friggere. sia venuta meno. E così....

...ho preparato dei dischi di pasta e li ho lasciati lievitare nuovamente, coperti da un paio di canovacci.

Poi, non avendo il forno, ho cominciato a cuocere i dischi di pasta in maniera alternativa...proprio come solitamente si usa fare con il bat bot (tipico pane maghrebino cotto in padella).

The original bat bot has a different mixture (which contains the bran), so my paninetti pocket to be stuffed ... we call them differently to the Maghreb piadina Mujahid? !

Jessica Day George Free Wikipedia

I'm not afraid hymn to life

Fear not, is not part of the believer. The Taqwa, that is. For the rest of you live dunya.

It is enough that the Haqq is made clear, and they close mouth.

's blog sister Khadija (with whom he collaborated), has been closed. Stoning sheet, the stones are bad for ailing hearts.

The blog of his brother Nur al Haqq Muhammad, has been closed. The word kuffar is not part of the integration plan, no. The Truth either. And the authorities

beasts who read my blog with fervor, no ... I just say that I am not afraid.

Do not cover our mouths, do not stop the jihad for us believers. We are here, and we struggle. You, sitting at your desks dusted, were still watching and waiting. Not us, we struggle with the Book of Allah and the Sunnah of His Messenger (sallallaahu 'alayhi wa sallam). And we are not afraid.

And whoever takes Allah, His Messenger and those who believed, as Protectors, then the party of Allah will be victorious. Al- Ma'ida 56

Allahu Akbar!

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Lathes

uncertain steps on the sand and just touch you

But no you
scratches, rough
assails you,
overbearing sense of emptiness
Grilli
happy

sing their hymn to life

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the madrasa dial hijra



And in the end one of the main purposes of my hijra in a hurry & fury was just this: the school.

Arabic, particularly. That is true-then yes-also study some measure here and there, but in the end the "Islam" I prefer to treat it with the help of some trusted person Insha Allah. Certainly not in a school where music is blaring, the images of living beings are wasted and the girls in hijab flirt with their peers. No, thanks. I'll Insha Allah.

So rucksack on his back (which is struggling to find one without pictures, Subhan Allah) we left for this adventure. In all senses, not only because it is a huge commitment to the children (do not speak the dialect of the place, nor French) ... but also because I still do not believe in the school system and its efficiency and therefore know that my children attend a structure, makes me very bitter. But hamdulillah, this was necessary and it is a small sacrifice that is worth addressing.

H and M's intent in the last preparations for the first day of school apron ... blue for both, just as much enthusiasm and excitement (or maybe that was my?).

And the little B helps me with housework, of course!

balances is too soon to make. There is a lot of work Insha Allah. The homeschooling for the Islamic party (and in reinforcing the Arabic language) is in preparation, the thought of being alone to face all this scares me a little ... but I think a reason for my name, it should be given and then prepare this jihad and charged with a smile full of Iman I say yes, I can do Insha Allah.

Kates Playground Come In Shower

thoughts dusty

Quanta polvere ho trovato, nei miei pensieri.

Trascurati, abbandonati.

E quanta nebbia -come quella della mia Torino- a renderli illeggibili.

Adesso li riprendo, un po’ li aggiusto, li riassetto.

Torno da loro, li stringo a me, li nascondo agli altri –che non si sa mai.

Basta che torno. E via la polvere dai miei pensieri.