Willow Tree

Home for a Visit

The Wit got his first break; he is home for the weekend (arriving in dress uniform!) This is pretty common to come home at first. I don't know if he gets off next week as well or not. Anyway, he is home, tired, muscles aching, and looking pretty good. The Army feeds them pretty well; I guess there were too many Bubbes to get away with the normal army mess fare in Israel.

Anyway, I'm going to be a bit quiet for a couple of days.

Have a great weekened everyone!!! I pray for a peaceful and calm Shabbat.
(And when I come back I've more than a few things to talk about!)

Help the Vicitims of the Tsunami

If you want to help but don't know where to go or who to donate through, the Command Post has a list of agencies offering their services.

That Stupid Dog

That is always bothering my dog, bit me.
And drew blood.
The four legged devil was out; I walked past him, and he and another dog ran off to play. Then he came up from behind and bit my leg.

I am so angry.

I have never wanted to see a dog put down before, but this one is a definite menace.

I was actually walking home from accompanying a friend back to her house because of another loose dog.

Dh is going to talk to someone about it tomorrow.

I am so angry; I wasn't near this dogs property, I didn't have my dog with me, I wasn't facing him, I didn't run away: he just ran up from behind and bit me.

Tsnami

It is too hard to wrap my mind around. I'm hearing numbers of dead has exceeded 60, 000 people, and the loss from diseases etc,... too much.

There are over 100 missing Israelis; 70 known to have been in the hardest hit areas.

Israel has sent medical supplies and health care providers to the various countries, depending on their needs and requests.

This is so unbelieveable to me. There are not tears enough; and yet the world still goes on.

Pre-worry

A friend and I went into Jerusalem today to take care of some family business stuff, and one of the places we stopped at was the Shuk.

I hate shopping in general, but the Shuk! This place just gets your adrenaline pumping. The purpose of the Shuk this time wasn't just fun; we were pricing items, trying to see if it paid to go into the Shuk and purchase items there and schlep them back to our homes. It pays, even with the bus fare it pays. So we are trying to think of the best day to do our shopping, etc. etc. and we finally settle on a day, and why it is perfect, but then I say; "But come fall, the Agent won't be home! I'll have to get a babysitter and then it won't be worth it.

That's right FALL. I'm worrying about a season that we are just leaving behind us; a year away, when who knows what changes! (Like hopefully dh getting a new job, during the day, that pays tons of money so we can buy the house and do the upstairs...)

Not a week away, not a month away, close to a year away; the sword of Damocles is not hanging over my head, yet here I sit trying to decide if it is worth it to go into the city once a week with a friend, leaving a (poor me) free sitter behind if I won't be able to maintain this schedule for life.

I can what if something to death.

Yeah I know it is foolish; worse comes to worse we will, in about a years time, be back to square one; but there are so many other changes that could occur--and so many other possiblities; I could pay my friend to buy the food for me, saving some money but not as much as if I went in by myself, I could trade something for babysitting rights, etc.

Yet here I sit worrying over. I know I'm not the only one to do this.

So how do you handle forks in the road?Are you a 'what ifer'? Do you worry about the future when it hasn't even started down the opposeite end of the street? Do you want a five year plan or do you go with the flow?

They are in my Prayers

The victims and survivors of the Tsunami in Southeast Asia...I can't believe that all those people lost their lives. I've a friend who went to India for the holidays...I don't know how to get in touch with her except by blog

It seems to me that the world has been hit by more than the normal number of natural disasters this year.

Responding

I hate being a sterotype, but today my son, the Wit entered the army so I rearranged the living room, becoming task master to my husband and son; move this here, move that there. The couch is near the t.v., the computer is back against the wall where it started out, one wall is now free of everything except some framed pictures, artfully leaning up against the wall (um, we never hung them up.)

Everything is changed.

Yes, I'm worried. Yes I'm scared. Yes I miss him.

Why Is It

That when I turn into Suzy Homemaker for the day my klutz meter goes through the roof and reaches the moon?

The sink is cleaned, the stove is cleaned, the dishes, except for five wine glasses drying on the counter, and a pot, which dh worked on earlier and I am finishing, are not only washed, but put away. I've finished the pot, place it to dry on the stove, then reach over to put away the sponge and

The purple wine glass, my favorite set, is caught on my sleeve, and the base is knocked off. It isn't even the chipped glass that is broken.
Then later I knock over the ketchup and it crashes to the ground sending tomato sauce onto my walls and floors, and it is cracked open. I have yet to find a suitable container in which to decant it.

Maybe I'll just never clean again.

I Salute You

This soldier has the right stuff.

Meanwhile, Sharon's plan seems to be to allow the Arabs to kill as many of us as possible first.

This Disgusts Me

What can one say? A new low.

This is Good News!!!

Via Arutz Sheva:

Tourism has increased 44% over last year and 76% over the year 2000!

I guess a lot of people are finding out what I already know. This is the place to be!

My country is truly an amazing place to be. You like mountains? We have mountains. woodlands, deserts, beaches. The ancient abuts the modern with hardly a pause. You can shop till you drop, and then cool your heals in a veggie resturant or head out for steaks; Israelis know how to cook!

I really recommend the spring time as the best time to come, in terms of weather, but anytime is grand.

And no, I don't have a job with the Israeli tourism department. Just naturally in love with this place!

In Their Corner

There are no artist that can ever be as creative and inspired as one's own children. A story they have penned would, if all were honest, make the NYT bestsellers list. They are budding commedians, musicians, acrobats, somethings. We see the gold beneath the dust, the pearl in the making.

My kids tell me "You always think everything we do is fantastic." They are right; I do. They are fantastic, wonderful, real gifts from G-d that, well, sorry all, but no one else's children match up nor should anyone else's children match up.

I think all children need to know they are special, wonderful, fantastic in at least one persons eyes. That, in some ways, the world does revolve about them that. They can take a more objective view of themselves from the world, from themselves. From me, they'll get the real truth.

They are special and I am lucky to have them in my life.

So what brought that on? My daughter, the Monkey, just brought over three artistic renderings to my friend, two for her (because she was sick) and one for the baby we were caring for yesterday. I know her pictures, drawn on small, post-it-note sized pieces of paper will never hang in the Louvre or the MET; but they will always
have a place in my heart.

Babysitter

I was babysitting for a friends little one, who is only about 2 months old. I fed her, I rocked her, I put her to sleep, I carried her about in a little kangaroo thingee on my chest, I changed her diaper.

You know what they say, there comes a time when you do all that and realize, well, that was nice, but I'm done with that now!

Well....

I didn't feel that way. I loved holding her, and playing with her and caring for her. I loved watching the children play with her and talk to her. I looked into her little face and saw a bit of heaven. Caring for her made me feel so joyful.

Maybe someday I'll be glad to give them back, but it felt so beautiful holding her in my arms.

If I could turn time back one of the two things I would have done differently, and I know other women my age have expressed the same thing, is have had more children.

Wedding Bombs

This is depth of new lows, and evidence of the depravity and abuse of Arab young children by their so-called friends.

via Arutz Sheva

The new Sbarro’s restaurant on Jerusalem’s Jaffa Road was targeted by an Israeli Arab couple whose plans to blow themselves up there following their wedding were thwarted by Israeli security forces.

What type of upbringing is required to cause two young people to agree to kill themselves following their wedding and to take as many other human beings, people they do not know and have not caused them personal harm, along with them? This was not a last minute idea. As the article states, the man question had planned to do commit a massacre 1/2 a year in advance, and then recruited his young bride to join him in death, mass murder, and destruction. What type of human being asks his bride to kill herself? What type of woman says yes to such a request?

What does it take to raise a child with that much hate that though they COULD have a wonderful life together, they would prefer to throw it away, throw the chance of children and happiness into the trash for the pleasure of killing as many other unknonw human beings as one can?

No Fuss, No Muss

No cook, bake, chill or do anything but make and eat all in 30 minutes or less sweet treat recipes wanted!

I suppose first I should start off with an explanation of my grand plan that will get me entered into the annals of teaching wisdom (egotism is so great)

Class lesson two weeks from now will be to make a special treat (well, you guessed that part.) That's the fun part of course! What I plan to do is set out little bowls with the ingredients in them, covered and labeled. I will make cards to match, which I will read off, and the children who are poorer readers will have to match the letters. The better readers will announce the directions. (Improving speech!) There is a good possibility of learning at least a few new English words (and all the senses will be used in learning to acquire the new words.) All the children will have to follow directions, a skill that is lacking in one or two of them. Attention, attention, must also be paid, as a few of the children have focusing problems. I will probably also include the Hebrew words, so the better English speakers will learn new vocabulary as well.

The lesson is planned for at least two or three weeks away as I must first confirm that no child is allergic to any of the ingredients in the recipes. Anaphylactic shock is not conducive to learning. It is also liable to get me fired.

But when it comes to actually moving into the kitchen, I'm afraid this brain runs out of ideas. So please, please, please, help this poor teach out and send me some of your tried and true, quick and easy, snacks that kids will love!

Thank you!!!!

Purged

Today was a fast day, Asharah b'tevet, the Tenth of Tevet, memorializing the begining of the destruction of Jerusalem, and the Temple.

Sitting here I try and imagine whtat it was like when the Temple stood and how our ancestors could have seen the Temple, participated in her services and messed up so badly. How did the distance come between them and G-d.

There are days where I feel very close to G-d, and days where I feel more distant. Today I felt more distant. Maybe it was the worry for my son who'll be entering the army quite soon now, maybe it was the rant I had yesterday, leaving me with a bitter taste in my mouth, maybe it was simply that I feel tired from the fast, maybe it is a combination. Whatever it was I was feeling wrung out and finding it hard to make that connection.

So I searched for something by Rabbi Nachum of Breslov; he always cheers me up. and I found something, this:.

The sealed lip

The disciple of Rabbi Nachman of Breslov went to him:
"I cannot talk to God."
"This often happens," said Nachman. "We feel that our lips are sealed, or that the words do not come. However, the simple fact that effort is needed to overcome the situation, is a beneficial attitude."
"But it is not enough," insisted the disciple.
"You are right. At such times, what you must do is look up and say: "My God, I am far from You and cannot believe in my voice."
"For, in truth, God listens and always answers. It is only we who cannot speak, fearful that He is not paying attention.

Which was just what I needed.

It is amazing what we really do have, all the gifts G-d gives us on a daily basis; sometimes I just forget to look.

Have you Noticed the Silence?

Have you notice that I have not been blogging about Israel much lately? Oh, life in Israel perhaps, but I haven't gotten too political lately. It isn't that I haven't anything to say, it is just that what I have to say I've said before:

Disengagement is a fools game and will lead to more loss of life and greater destruction of Israel and her ideals than keeping the land and worrying about falling missles ever would.

There will be no real peace with the Palestinians. Neither will Israel really be allowed to defend herself against an incursion by Palestinians; I highly doubt that the United States, let alone the rest of the world, will allow Israel to invade and a, now, foriegn country, because of the actions of individuals, unless there is absolute proof that those individuals were sent by the government (and not just one person in the government). Hence, Israel will not be allowed to defend herself, and the Palestinians will not only be able to call for sanctions, but call for help in defending itself if Israel does try and defend herself ie, Israel loses either way..

Only a fool trades the tangible for the intangible. Would you enter a contract with someone which called for you to give them sa $200, 000 dollars, in return for not calling you repugnant names, but not condition on the fact that if they (or an agent of theirs) did so, it would result in the money being refunded to you?

How exactly will it be determined that the Palestinians are keeping the peace? What will be the consequences TO THEM if someone crosses the border and blows themselves up? How to prove it was instigated by the Palestinians and not by an "Israeli Arab" (cause ou know that is what they will say. Wasn't us, wasn't our fault, What could we do s/he was a nut)? Will Israel be allowed to "disengage" anyone Arab from Israel proper? Why are only Jews being disengaged from the land they have lived on for decades? Why can Jordan and a possible "Palestinian state" be allowed to exclude Jews, but Israel can not exclude Arabs?

Yeah, I'm angry, bitter, scared and worried, and I am apt to scream at those who tell me I'm overreacting.

Yes, I know in the end, G-d will get His way, and Israel will be safe, under the leadership of the Moshiach. But I go along with those who believe there are two ways to bring the Moshiach, one way is by making this a good world, thus we bring him into the land, and one way where G-d's must this world good, and thus bring the Moshiach to the land. We bring justice or G-d brings justice. And if G-d does it, will it isn't as sweet as if we do it ourselves.

And no, for those who argue the "way of peace" (ie giving away pieces of Israel) will do that; peace must come with justice, and that includes being just to ones own self. Bending over to allow someone else the pleasure of kicking you in the behind is stupidity;nothing else.

And that is why I haven't been blogging on Israeli politics too much lately. I am too angry at all that has been happening for more than a rant.

I am in full agreement with these statements by Former MK Elyakim HaEtzni: (via Arutz Sheva; please read the whole article yourself.)

"...we must make it clear to our soldiers and police officers that it is manifestly illegal to obey such orders. It is illegal to break into a citizen’s home, take his possessions, drag him and his family out of their house by force, dig up the bones of their dead relatives, destroy his home and hand over his community to the enemy.”<

(another good article, this one on the security fence, can also be found on Arutz sheva.)

Who Are You?

How much of you could be taken away and still leave you, you? What changes could be made without altering your basic persona?

We were in Jerusalem today, having a family get together for lunch, and while there my dh stopped at a kiosk and bought me a newspaper for my 7th/8th grade English class. One article dealt with a newly emerging culture...the emerging Autistic/Aspergers culture.

Now I've heard of deaf culture, I can get my head around blind culture (though I haven't heard of such a thing) but this kind of threw me. Is being autistic not something to cure or treat but simply to learn to deal with? Should autistic children be taught to look people in the eye or to allow normal contact with others? Should they be brought out of their shell, or as

...some advocates contend that autism is an integral part of their identities, much more like a skin than a shell, and not one they care to shed.

and as those who run the ANI site state:

Autistic people have characteristically autistic styles of relating to others, which should be respected and appreciated rather than modified to make them "fit in."

This really isn't about autism, or taking sides on the issue. I'm just now becoming familiar with the "other side".

We are all a little funky. whether we are autistic or neurotypical, hearing or deaf, no matter what we are, we are all a bit different from the person next to us in some way, some form.

We are, none of us, typical. We are, all of us, connected to many various groups who can be identified by a, or a group of, characteristics.

So at what point does the loss of a particular characteristic change a person into another being?

If I woke up tomorrow and I had grown three feet, would I still be me? Much would change (besides no longer fitting into my clothes) How would that change
the inner me? What if, before I was born, my parents could have "corrected" me for shortness. How much of who I am would be gone?

We can never know. and yet does that mean we should not try and eliminate what are known as disorders and diseases?

It is all a guessing game; who knows? Perhaps, without aspergers/autisim, we would eliminate future Einsteins from our midst. Or maybe we would make it easier for the Einsteins in the world to relate to the rest of the world.

Eating BonBons

The Artist and the Monkey were watching a t.v. show exposing magicians greatest secrets. During a break, while I was slaving away emptying a basket full of laundry into drawers and closets, the Artist came racing upstairs. "It's amazing! I think I might become a magician when I grow up! And then I'll teach everyone how I did the tricks! Oh; but I also still want to be an Artist and a writer!" she stamps her foot. "It's so hard to decide." She admits, and then adds...

"Why didn't you become anything."
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
There's that chopped liver feeling; the Artist is lucky she isn't chopped liver.

After silently counting to ten I told her "Well, I thought taking care of you guys was important". And later, as I was getting the two younger ones off to bed:

"You know I was a nurse."
"You were?!!"
"Yes; who takes care of you when you are sick. And I've been a teacher" The girls are smiling and getting in on the game. "Yeah." The Monkey says, "You're teaching me to read."
"And you taught me lots of stuff."
"And what other things have I done."
"You clean the house."
"And I cook."
"And you're the best mother in the world."

I guess being nothing isn't so bad.

Coming home?

David Gerstman aka as Soccer Dad, in a recent comment to one of my posts, owned that one reason Aliyah is not in the cards for them in the near future is the reluctance of one of their children, a young teen, to the move. It is not advisable to make the move, he was told, under such circumstances.

We moved to Israel with four of our five children. It hurt to leave the oldest behind. But she was already an adult herself, and the decision was hers and hers alone to make. My other children at that point were 19, 16, 9, and 4. Of those that came with us the most reluctant to make this life-changing move was the 20 year old; waffling between coming and staying on his own, with his sister nearby most of the year. Even in the last month I worried that he may stay behind and not one but two of my children would be left in the USA. In the end he decided to come,

It is hard, very hard, to immigrate anywhere with older children. They already have their friends, their ways of doing things, their favorite hangouts and the like. They know the slang, what is cool and what is nerdy. They know the rules.

Put them in a new country, with the promise of less money (normally) less room, classes where they don't understand much of what is going on, ways of doing things and saying things--even simple things such as greeting that most children share, or songs that the children have grown up on-- it is a shock, and upsetting. Boundaries are unknown at a time in life when the world, due to hormones, is in flux anyway.

Talk about a hard time adjusting.

All the problems one had in one's former country come along as well. All unresolved issues, remain unresolved. The basic characteristic of a person will not change, but most likely personality traits will become accentuated. Shy before? You've might have a recluse. Homework done the last minute? It probably won't get done any faster now. Defiant before, defiantin the new life.
These are facts to keep in mind when moving with any child, but most especially an older one.

Yet, very few problems are intractable, and there is much to be gained from our move to Israel. All in all I have found the country much warmer, and people friendlier. While there is less stuff, there is a greater appreciation for what one has, and a greater willingness to share the wealth that is found. Materialism, especially in the settler world, is less rampant. Children experience a greater sense of freedom.

Whether or not to make the move is of course a very personal decision. My own belief is Aliyah is for all Jews and the sooner the better. Planning, knowing what the issues are with a particular child and trying to find solutions for them before the move isn't always possible, but can be done. A pilot trip to a place one might enjoy, moving to an "anglo" (or French or Russian community as the case may be) is another. One of our mistakes was waiting till we arrived to find one child a school, feeling, as we did, that an in person interview was best. It is probably best to find a school, know the community one will be entering, for at least a significant period of time after the move, before making the move, and then change if necessary. That gives the child(ren) a sense of stability, though not one free of complaints.

If your older child (and David may very well be doing all that I mention and more) is unwilling to make the move, consider trips or visits, and connecting through the internet or snail mail to a family or age-mates. Small moves such as these may advance the cause.

It is a beautiful place to live; I would not want to live elsewhere. Israel is home.

Haveil Havalim

Haveil Havalim is the brainchild of Soccer Dad. a new Carnival, for Jewish or Israeli blogs (and as Soccer Dad says, you don't have to be Jewish to enter; but the subject of the blog should reflect a Jewish or Israeli theme.). One of my posts is up as well as some excellent posts on a wide range of issues. It is worth the read; my own post is quite paltry compared to the other posts up for viewing.

What Do You Need?

I know my prior post on this subject must have received so many responses the counter reset itself to zero. Couldn't be that I wrote a dull post! Nevertheless, in what may amount to the blogging equivalent and hitting myself on the thumb with a hammer, I ask once more:

What is your drive? What is your motivation in life? What do you think motivates most people? Is it only survival? If you knew your basic needs were fully met, if you knew you would receive decent food, health care, education, shelter (including clothing) regardless of how long and how hard and at what you worked, would you continue in your present job? Would you work at all? Would you take more business risks? Retire early? What are basic needs? I have listed food, health care, education, shelter (including clothing) is this your idea of basic needs as well, or have I left out something, or should I have left off something?
How would society fare in a culture where all basic needs were met without question? Would every household have to dump their own garbage? Would service personnel be able to command a high salary? Would a society based on such conditions encourage creativity or laziness or both? Would we have more or less crime or would crime be unaffected?

That is a whole string of questions; I really want to know your answer. Yeah, I think about this stuff. I guess I'm a bit of a kook. Imagine having to live with me!

The Invisible Mom

The Artist comes home from school the other day and we have the typical mother-child exchange: How was school? Fine. What did you do? Stuff. Variations on this theme are repeated in most every household.
Her next comment however made me feel like chopped liver.
"Where's Aba? (Hebrew for father). Fridays my dh doesn't work. Still a bit more than three seconds worth of conversation from a munchkin I hadn't seen in several hours would have been nice.
"Hey, don't I count?" I asked.
"You are always here."

My oldest, now 23, once became very upset when, as a kindergartener, she learned that during the day I wasn't sitting right where she had left me awaiting her return like some princess in the fairy tale awaiting her true love. I suppose most children think of themselves like that; the center of their parent's world. In some ways we become background noise, especially if, like me, one is more of a stay-at-home parent. I know that when I was working during the dinner hour it was much harder on the family, even the older ones, and it was even more difficult than it is having their father gone most of their waking hours. They adore him. They need us both. But there is something important about me just being there, for them, if they need me.

Dependable, reliable, there to grab on to in case of need.

Maybe, in some ways, I'm the center of their world.

Thanks for the Heads Up

There is nothing like being told that your Wednesday English class is now on Sunday at 10:00 Saturday night. I did have a plan. The plan called for a newspaper. It is not possible to get an English newspaper at 10 pm on this Yishuv.
I have to come up with something quick and my brain feels as if it has had the plug pulled from it and all ideas are quickly draining away.
(sigh)
This isn't a class I'm going to be holding on to for a long time anyway. A friend is likely taking over all the 8th grade English classes (both my class and the main teachers class) come February. (She is a certified teacher. No acrimony at all on my part, I'm glad she will be stepping in. Here in Israel there are something called Bagruts, which are similar to the regents. You don't do well you don't get into college.) Still, in the few weeks I have to teach I want to teach them well. I don't like going in unprepared. I will have to put something together between now and 11 am tomorrow.

So why am I blogging about it? In the hopes that something will spark in my brain when I'm not paying attention to it; you know, like the kid who wants to pretend he isn't doing what you just asked him to do so you have to pretend you don't know that they are in the bathroom brushing their teeth or already dressed, even though you can hear the water running and the sound of brush against teeth, or see their shoes from beneath the covers. Then you act all surprised and happy and fooled and say things like "You little monster! You tricked me! And here I thought you were still sleeping!"

Ideas, I think, are like children. They want to run things themselves and sometimes you just have to give them the chance. But you also have to let them know you are there and available to them if they need you.

And that does give me an idea. Maybe after we decide on a name for our newspaper, and make other final decisions we can talk about how we find ideas for stories in the first place, and how to overcome writers block and other writers tricks.

Hope you enjoyed my little stream of consciousness there.

Carry a Big, Long Stick?

I suppose the solution is to poke before you step?

Gives a new meaning to a disappearing act.

Motivating Factors

I think many people would agree that poverty is a major concern; a social ill that needs to be, if possible, eliminated. The cause of the disease, and the cure, are in dispute, but that it is a disease that impacts on society as a whole. Is there anyone who disagrees with this basic premise?

Neither the cause nor the cure is simplistic. Different people are impoverished for different reasons. A hard working soul could be hampered by great illness in the family, which eats into any earnings. Bad luck, poor choices, lack of intelligence, few talents, or working skills, laziness, severe disabilities, severe disfigurement, etc. etc. all make a difference in the one's potential to earn, save and increase one's income.

The poor, most likely, will always be with us.

But what if poverty did not mean destitution. What if all people, regardless of the reason they were impecunious; that is they simply lacked money and the means of accessing luxuries (I recognize what would constitute a luxury is open to debate.) What if, the basic necessities of humans were a given: the best health care, regardless of income, decent housing and food (again related to optimal health), the best education in accordance with the abilities of the individual (which would include access to up to date books and other tools needed to learn a sellable skill or talent)?

What would you put your talents towards if you knew you couldn't starve or that you wouldn't be homeless? What would motivate you, in such circumstances, to, (in the absence of forced labor), to take on a task that wasn't of great interest to you? Would such tasks start claiming a higher salary? Would the majority work only when a new book or pair of earrings was wanted? How would that affect those who wanted more and worked for more? Would their gains be less appreciated (by themselves)?

I am not asking how we could achieve such a world, I am asking if such a world would work? Would humans still develop and advance?

The Banging Sound You Hear

Is me knocking my head against the wall.
School started today. I was suppose to teach a class. I was suppose to teach a class at 10:25-11:45. BUT, when I went to check the time, my mind played a trick on me and I went to look up SUNDAY'S time. Yep. Sunday starts at 12:10. I was throughly prepared to teach class at the WRONG time! And I was sitting here, preparing last minute items when, ding-dong, I realized my mistake. Too late to go up and rectify the matter.

Grrrrrrrr, I'm such an idiot sometimes!

I would feel guiltier, but the truth is there have been days when they've changed the schedule and I haven't been informed.

Back To School

Well the Artist has headed out the door, and the Monkey is eating breakfast; back to school after Chanukah vacation!

I hate that. I love having them home, sleeping late, hanging about in their p.js. I miss them when they aren't here.

I admit it; I wish they were still homeschooling; they are happy in school now, so that won't be and, in this area, that would be counterproductive. They would never learn Hebrew if they weren't in school. But I miss the sounds of them being about; squabbling, laughing playing. I miss seeing them tucked into a corner of the couch reading or gathered together watching a program on t.v., or playing together on the floor. I miss the minor interactions, the calls for a glass of water, a little one cuddling on my lap, annoying me while I play a game, or calling me over to read something they've written or see something they have done.

When they are in school too much of the time they are home is spent in business; homework, getting ready for the next day, getting ready for bed, getting ready for school. It is rush, rush, rush.

It is easier geting work down when the aren't home. It is also lonlier.

(un)Health Insurance Companies

Flaptrap has something important to say about health insurance companies and how they almost cost her the life of her son. It was criminal how she and her son were treated by, frankly, both the doctors office, the hospital and the insurance company. Go read.

I think the hippocratic oath has long ago been discarded in favor of the bottom line.

Another Silly Quiz 'cause I'm in that kind of mood

I kept looking for a good quiz but didn't find one I liked till I stumbled on
CrackMonkie

Okay, I don't know why I'm getting smilies instead of the pic that is suppose to be there, but I'll find out and get it fixed. I hope. Just scroll down if you want to find out what kind of soul I am

Oh, Pixy!!!HELP!!!!
Figured it out. If I EVER try and change my template again, shoot me!

You Are a Visionary Soul

You are a curious person, always in a state of awareness. Connected to all things spiritual, you are very connect to your soul. You are wise and bright: able to reason and be reasonable. Occasionally, you get quite depressed and have dark feelings. You have great vision and can be very insightful. In fact, you are often profound in a way that surprises yourself. Visionary souls like you can be the best type of friend. You are intuitive, understanding, sympathetic, and a good healer. Souls you are most compatible with: Old Soul and Peacemaker Soul

Spend $100 dollars and what do you get?

Two pairs of boots, one for the Artist and one for the Monkey.
One pair of sneakers. for the Monkey, whose first pair lost the tongue quite some time ago.
Six pairs of tights (it does get cold here and the girls were low)
Three pairs of socks (because the Monkey prefers)
One jacket (zipper broke and for $9, we would have to probably pay that much for the new zipper and work to put it in the first place.)
One flannel pullover, with hood. for the Monkey
One flannel skirt to match.
One pair of flipflops (for the oldest son who is going intot he Army on the 27th)
Three pairs of black sock, for the dh.
Sports socks for the Agent.

I think we did good.
And all were right near the bus stop; we shared a personal pizza (about $4.) purchased a book for the Artist for school, and then went home.

And everone goes back to school tomorrow. which makes me kind of sad really. I like having the kids at home.

Ah shucks

Angie Wilson of It's A Wilson Thing posted a wonderful photo, and well, we had some conversation back and forth, and she asked for permission to post what I said.

You will also note that she has been nominated for a couple of catagories in the BOB awards; which she well deserves. Here's hoping she makes the cut to the short list. She is a beautiful lady who writes a lovely log.

Huh?2

Go on over and read Zero Intelligence and then join me in a moan session. Has it really come to this? Arressting a child for scissors? An advil gets you booted? PENCIL SHARPENERS BANNED????

Isn't the educational system suppose to be run by EDUCATED PEOPLE and not kumquats? (sigh. sigh. sigh)

Help Needed

As in, I need help to find a job I (or dh or both of us) can do over the internet in spare hours, that will bring in some much needed mula. Does anyone have a telecommute job that is working for them, that anyone with a modicum of intelligence can do? I can't have specific hours as my jobs are spread out over the week, different hours for different days. Suggestions? Anyone?

Huh?

via The Exploding Cigar
Anyone want to comment on this?

From additional readings that I have done the evidence was compromised because it was left unrefridgerated (and not turned over to the authorities) for a weeks time. The material can't be retested.

Come on, isn't that common sense? If they thought the treats contained alcohol, and, if that were true it would mean legal proceedings against mom, then they should have turned it over to the proper authorities immediately. The longer it is left unattended the greater the chance of claim of, or real possibilty of, being tampered with or contaminated. You don't require much of an education to understand that.

Suspending the child I believe was a poor and counterproductive idea. I don't know if this child would know these "looked like shots"; I am fairly certain that some child of about this age, somewhere, would know what a Jell-o shot looked like, but that doesn't mean most children of this age would.

Mom would of course have known, however, it is possible she simply used extra cups from the bar she worked at, and did not consider the look-a-like issue at all, even if she knew such a regulation existed. Jello in a cup looks like Jell-o in a cup and it would not make sense to use large size cups to prepare Jell-o as a treat for the whole class. That it was a poor idea is unquestionable. That it deserved legal action (beyond turning the items over to the proper authorities) is quite questionable.

In any case suspending the child for what is a possibility the fault of the parent is a hell of a way to educate one of the future members of society. If in fact there was alcohol in the cups, then the child is a victim of her parent, if not then she is the victim of either her mother's ignorance or the schools intractability or both.

I think this issue could have been handled (after said items were turned over to the proper authorities) a discussion with and warning to the mom not to send the child in with such items again. The child should only have been brought into it if in fact the child could have been suspected of knowing the treats could be seen as having contained alcohol. I think most children seeing Jell-o in a cup would be thinking, Jell-o in a cup and not "hope the rum is good." Otherwise the child should have been told and (and it is a wise school policy to begin with) that no treats could be brought into school without clearing it with the school before hand.

Of course, it is possible that I am hopelessly naive, and that a significant proportion of fourth graders would know exactly what was normally contained in those types of cups. In which case, I ask you, please leave me to my rose-colored world. To think that a large segment of the 8yr old population would consider the idea that the shots may contain alcohol is quite disturbing to me.

Well *Thanks*

My dh has off from work today and tomorrow, and since free days don't come often...where we can go and do something...well, we had plans.
Never plan.
Last night I woke twice with, how to put this delicately? THE RUNS! And this morning. And then I'd have thrown up this morning if I had anything left in me.
Guess what we AREN'T doing today.
BLECH!!!!!
And we can't go out tomorrrow because my dh is doing stuff with the oldest son, prior to his going into the army---going with him to the eye doctor, to get his drivers test.

*groan* It is one thing to get sick, and another to get sick on ones special day out.

Pity party being held here.
(as Rachel Ann trots off back to bed.)

Just for Fun--Automatic Flatter

I got this from an e-mail pal. If you are having a bad day go here, it is sure to pick your spirits up! And if you are having a great day go there anyway, it will really make you laugh!

Just Don't

tie me to a horse and let him run
set me out in the hot, hot sun
cover me with honey and find a nest of bees
hang me from the highest of trees
You can do most whatever to me
but if you've any sumpathy
just don't make me......

Fill in the blank with your least favorite chore.

Don't worry, no one's coming to get you.

No Child Left Behind?

Lauren from Feministe has an excellent critique of the NCLB program.

What are your experiences, both positive and negative, of the program and how it affects your children?

Curses

I need bifocals.
And my eyes lately can't focus worth a *&%^.

WAHHHHHHHHHHHH
I was suppose to be young and beautiful forever.

Food Glorious Food

And shelter, and clean clothes and all those basic items of life that we deem important. It is reather embarrasing to write these words after my last post, with its complaint about immediate gratification.

There are people in Israel who are hungry, and without the basics of life-- a refrigerator, or a bed, a hot meal; Meir Panimprovides these items for the indigent, quite a bit more; providing as well such services as legal counseling and health care tailored to those who have difficulty navigating through the normal health services.

This is another great organization well worth one's consideration. I realize I tend to beg a lot for these various charities; I don't expect anyone (save for perhaps Donald Trump who isn't reading this post anyway) to donate to all of them. But there are so many to choose from; choose one or two, a few dollars here and there, and you may very well end up saving a world, a hero without ever knowing it.

Transplanted

I moved here to Israel more than 1 year ago. In some ways it seems as if I have lived here forever. I can't imagine living anywhere else, and when other's tell me they are going back to the USA, whether for a short or long term I tend to feel pity, even though they are happy about the trip. Perhaps later, after I have been here awhile that will change, and I will look forward to a vacation in the USA (or other place in the world) as well---maybe what I am feeling is the euphoria of having fulfilled my dream.

Be that as it may, there are certain things I miss, certain things I would change if I could, with the wave of a magic wand, and one is foremost in my mind in these chilly days.

Heat; hot water, when I want it. Just turn on the tap. Scorching hot water cascading down my back, or filling my tub.

Here in Israel, as I think it is in much of the world, to get hot water during the cooler months, when the sun hides more than shines, one needs to turn on something. And not ones spousea (although that does bring up some rather interesting images). What one has to turn on here is something called a dood, and one has to do it about 1/2 to 2 hrs before any great expectations of more than ice running from the taps.

A bath, a shower, washing the dishes, doing a hot load in the wash must all be planned, and scheduled, because hot water gets used up and then one must wait again.

This presents little problem for those of organized body, mind and emotions, but, I've never been an organized girl. Ask my mom! My thoughts fly, I am more random than planned in how I clean and cook, schedules are anathema to my personality. (Oddly enough I am not normally late for planned events, it is simply planning and scheduling my own life that is difficult.)

There are ways to circumvent the dood; there is something or other (I love my grasp of technical terms!) that ones hooks to ones shower head or to the washing machine of voila! hot water on demand. Should we become wealthy enough (as in rich uncle who we never knew dying and leaving us untold millions) we shall install such devices and I will celebrate the day with steak and potatoes. Till then, I will have to learn to schedule in that which it would never have occurred to me to schedule before--washing the dishes, washing the clothes and washing moi.

All changes are a matter of giving up and gaining something new, and I'm curious as always.

If you are a transplant, what is it that you have lost? What is it that you miss from "the old country" (or city or town)?

The Sanhedrin!

via arutz sheva:

In a dramatic but unpublicized move Monday, members of the newly established Sanhedrin ascended the Temple Mount, Judaism’s holiest site.

This is fantastic news. I don't even know how to explain this situtaition and what it means to me. I know that I would just muddle the job. So please, go read. I am extremely excited about this event. I am practiacally bouncing up and down in my chair like a child whose just been told they are going toy shopping and can buy anything they want. I am close to tears.

The times of the Moshiach (Messiah) are upon us. Can't you feel it? And yet the mundane world goes on. It is a wonder sometimes.

The Weight of Emotions

Are small difficulties just as valid as large ones? Is the loss of an item to one person just as devastating as the loss of a loved one? Is a minor joy as an important as a great one? Does winning a prize in a local talent contest as worthy as winning the gold? Is there a way to measure these things? Can grief and joy ever really be measured on anything except a personal scale and how do we do it?

The loss of a loved one after a horrific illness may bring a shade of relief; the person is no longer in pain, physical, mental, or emotional. After a long and healthy life, it may be a sense of satisfaction; a life well lived. A small item, such as a pen, which may seem insignificant to most of the world may represent something of gravity to another-- a gift from a loved one, a prize won after a great deal of work. A award for singing might validate, even if just a local recognition, someone whose life has been full of failures, and may mean more than the gold for another who has won many prizes in his or her lifetime?

How do we know? How do we honor another's emotions when their feelings seem disproportionate to the event?

I am morose, in a funk, subject to a creeping malaise; personal stuff, minor events going on in my life that have me down a bit. But do I have a right to feel this way? When those I know and love are going through extreme changes in their lives, dealing with illnesses the loss of loved ones;do I have a right to feel sad?

Do I have the right to cry for the pain, metaphorically speaking, of a cut finger, when someone else is feeling the pain of surgery?

How do we weight emotions?

RF/VF

Yesterday a man came to the door with a FEDEX package. No one has come to the door with a FEDEX package in the entire time that we have been living here. I knew
immedately what it contained; without a doubt it was the book I had begged for and one of my readers, Greg, from California Hammonds answered my plea. I began reading it last night, right before I turned out the lights, and I plan on reading a single chapter each evening, slowly, so that I can savor every delicious word. The writing so far is terrific; I know it is only the first chapter, but the book is great.

As I closed the book I began thinking about how many wonderful people I have discovered through this medium, virtual friends in internet vernacular. Virtual friends who have supported me in troubled times, uplifted my spirits when I am low, laughed with me at life's foibles, shared my anger, my joys, and triumphs of myself and my family.

Virtual friends?

According to Webster's dictionary virtual has several meanings

1 : being such in essence or effect though not formally recognized or admitted

Found Someone New

Do yourself a favor and check out ROCKCHILD; she is a great writer and artist!

Rode the Wave!

After my daughter's birthday party I went here with a group of women from the Yishuv (settlement). I almost backed out, to tell the truth, a big party, a mess, and probably a headache and I just wasn't in the mood to step out the door; step into a hot bath more likely! I was kind of guilted into going. Though I had heard nothing but praise for this acting troupe, I had my reservations. It was a Yishuv production!, put on by a bunch of moms , regular work-a-day women and children. I could expect entertainment, yes, a few hours free of children I needed to mind and worry over; but a professional production? One I'd end up singing the praises about? A pleasant evening was in store for me, nothing more.

WRONG!!!!

I was overcome with the spirit of the group as well as their professionalism. This wasn't a slapped together production, which one viewed with good humor. It was overwhelming fantastic! If they have a play next year, I'm going, and bringing my daughter, and if I can convince her to come to Israel during Chanukah time, my mom (the play is by and for women/girls only). I bought the CD for selfish me--and I'm not the biggest music fan, , and I hope to purchase one for my mother's birthday (like the show the cds are for women only) The singing is incredible, the acting phenomenal; everything on target.

The production company started in reaction to terrorist attacks on the communities in the Gush; after the mourning the women got together to try and think what to they could do to battle the emotional reperecussions of living in terror. A play was the answer. They began with "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, slated to run for three performances; instead it ran for 11 shows and they even took their production to the Women's Caucus of the Knesset, as well as doing segments on a well known children's show.

The second production, called Esther and the Secrets in the King's Court played 21 times and the CD was a smash hit! The first year I was here it was the music to get on everyone's lips.

If you are a woman or girl in Israel, go see the play! Any child capable of sitting quietly for a few hours will enjoy this production. And if you can't get here, do the next best thing: get the CD. Honestly, you won't regret it. (And no, I"m not connected to the group in any way, aside from being of the same religion!)

I'm still on a high from seeing the show.

The Party

Take: 27 or so girls, all between the ages of 8-11.
Have them speak a language you are not proficient in. Loudly. At the same time.
Have them all want the exact same type of prize.
Lose control very early in the day. Like from the start.

Wild, crazy, but fun. Everyone apparently did have a good time.

But oh my ears!!!!

Brag Alert!

I had my short period with my English class today. I was trying to come up with an "everyone can play game" and in a sudden burst of what I hoped was inspiration and not dud, I came up with this game; I would bring a bag of little things- dollhouse dolls and furniture, a marble, a candle, pen, and various other
small items such as that. Each child would then close their eyes and draw three items from the bag and make up a sentence from the items they withdrew "the boy fell off the chair and banged his head on the book, the elephant ate the apple and went to bed etc. We would then build on the sentence. "The little boy with the blue duck and so forth and so on."

So we gathered together, and with a bit of trepidation I demonstrated what was to be done. It was a hit! Even my most reluctant English speaker had something to say---they were fighting to talk! We managed a mini story out of each sentence but the last (because we ran out of time, not for lack of things to say!) They WANTED their sentences expanded.

And not only that BUT afterward the regular English teacher (she teaches the Hebrew speaking girls)came up and complimented me on the idea and said that she might use the idea in her classroom!

And I just stood there, trying not to grin like a three-year-old kid just given a lollipop!

You're A Blockhead Rachel Ann!

I just don't understand. I'm not listening. ERMPPPPPPPHHHHHHH!

At least according to the Artist, that is the problem. I just don't get it, and she is right.

The party is today and we are talking over the games that are played; potato race, pass the bag, various games. I say, "We'll divide the girls into two teams..."

"What?"

"We'll divide the girls into two teams; how else can you play with thirty girls?"

"Listen, Ima, two girls race. And then the girl that wins the race gets the prize."

"Two girls? But what do the other's do?"

"They watch." (Duh!)

"They just watch?"

"And then you pick two more girls. Whoever wants to play."

"But honey, that means if all the girls come from your class we have to give out 15 prizes." (Mom is trying to calculate that in her head. Are all the games like this?)

"Not everyone wants to play. And not everyone gets picked."

"Not everyone gets picked?"

"Look Ima" (frustration builds) "Everyone puts their fingers in the air like this" (she puts up one finger, the Israeli version of raising one's hand "And you pick two girls..."

"But you only pick two girls?"

"Well, after the two girls race, you pick two more"

"But what do the other girls do?"

"ERRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGG. They watch. Or they play other games."

"They just watch? They play other games at the same time?" (mom is trying to figure out how three or four games could be going on in the room at the same time and how she is suppose to monitor more than one and, even though the presents are only a few shek each, 15 gifts for each game? Mom is feeling a bit batty)

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH! Never mind! You don't understand! You aren't listening!"

And we go through the whole thing with just a few minor changes over and over again. But only two at a time? That means 15 gifts. What do the other girls do?

(Now mom knows she is being dense but just can't wrap her little mind around this. It isn't that she isn't listening, or has trouble comprehending basic English.. But hte concept itself---The girls just watch? Not every girl plays every game, not because she chooses not to do so but because she doesn't get picked? That can't be right.

That isn't how it is done in the states. In the states you have a few games. Everyone plays. One person wins. That's all. Won't the girls be upset if they don't get picked? Won't they be angry? Won't they be hurt? This can't be right. It doesn't make sense.

But, after a quick call to one of the girls in her class who speaks both Hebrew and English, she is right. In her party every game was played twice; two winners, not 15. And to take care of the disappointment, there was the pass the present game where everyone passed a present around and won something small (a candy, a hair thingy) and the last person won something big.

That is the way it is done here. Culture shock. I'm still sort of scratching my head over this one (better this than lice!)

Culture shock. Not everyone can win, okay, but not everyone can have a chance to win? Not everyone can play at all?

Birthday parties are different here. Not everyone will bring a gift. Not everyone invited will come, and they aren't even likely to call. Any birthday gift given is likely to be bought by the girls themselves and likely to be small; a couple of girls get together and buy a cheap necklace, or a hair thingiess, or something similar. What child has more than a few shek to spend on something? With thirty girls in the class, no one expects to get their hearts desire from their friends.

Culture shock. This isn't the way I grew up. This isn't how it worked for my older children. The basic fairness and common courtesy that I was raised with and that my older children were raised with just isn't there---and it is hard to throw it out the door.

Not everyone will show up, and you won't know till the girls come trooping through the door whether there will be six girls or ten girls or the whole class. Not everyone will play every game even though they might wish to do so. You play every game a few times and move on to the next. Not every girl will come with a present. Some may, some may give presents later in the week, some not at all.

That's the culture here. Not better, not worse, just the way it is. Culture shock.
A small thing I know, but it is the small thing that we build our lives upon; courtesies, habits, manners, expected behavior--- and when they vary from how we have grown up, even in small ways, we can feel rudderless. At least I do.

How does this work? How can it work? It doesn't feel right.

But it is right, for here.

Welcome to Israel; I keep getting welcomed, sometimes with a joyful message, sometimes not. But just when I think I've found my center, I get rocked.

But I'm glad I'm here.

Help One Another

What can one do? That is the question one inevitable asks when confronted by the sorrows of others. How can I help? Such feelings overwhelmed me as I read Random Pensees post about the tragedy in Zimbabwe. and other areas of Africa. In a comment on one of the posts I wondered allowed what I could do to help. Me, sitting here in Israel, what could I do? He answered in this post.

So if you have a few extra dollars lying around, maybe instead of that new whatever, a few could go this way?

And mom, now you know what I want for my birthday. Yeah, I know I'm not suppose to expect anything, but in 46 years you have never forgotten me; I don't expect you to start now. :-)

Breakthrough

I've blogged about the Artist many a time; about how she is so shy, about her reluctance to play or talk with the other girls, even though they have been so welcoming. If her shyness had only started when we arrived her I would have simply put it down to the changes in her life, her difficulty in learning Hebrew etc. etc. But her shyness has been a part of her life since she was a little one, barely out of my arms. Don't talk to me, don't look at me, don't ask me questions was her motto.

The other day she came home from school and I asked her if she had spoken Hebrew to anyone--I had started awarding her points for speaking in Hebrew to anyone except her best friend whom I will refer to as Blue Bonnet.

"No." she said at first, and then added. "Well, I did tell Dawn (not her real name either) that I didn't have a pencil..." and she went on to explain that she and Dawn and Blue Bonnet were playing a game; Dawn was the teacher, and the Artist and Blue Bonnet were the pupils---who were behaving rather badly, and the "teacher" threatened if they didn't behave the Principal would come, and at that point Blue Bonnets big sister showed up at the door-- and the two girls ran up to her shouting that she was the 'menahel" the principal. They were playing. They were talking. They were happy!!!

WEHAW!!!!!

Silly game played all over the world most likely in various forms. Silly game that until now my Artist avoided. I was really begining to think she needed psychological treatement of some sort.

But she played with ehr friends, and she talked. And she and Blue Bonnet went off early to school to hand out invitations to her birthday party here on Sunday. And she is very excited about having the party.

This is good.

Funky Socks

Well, she is right! Funky socks can make a body happy.

I accompanied the above friend on an errand to a place I hadn't been in before. After she was through with her tasks she asked me if I wanted to stop in this little clothing store: "They have some nice stuff and the prices aren't too bad." Why not? I shrugged. I had some minutes to kill.

It is quite a cute little store, with a curtained off area in one corner for trying on clothes. It was larger than expected, the store being out in the middle of nowhere really---surrounding the store were mostly businesses and doctors offices and the like---and they did have some nice stuff, and the prices weren't bad, just over my head at this point.

And there were these funky socks.-stripped, and stripped with hearts in lots of colors. Immediately her post on HOUSE OF JOY came to my mind.

"Hey look", I said, pointing the socks out to her "your funky socks." Then we went on to look at the skirts and the shirts gabbing about this and that.

But I kept going back to the socks. "Would they fit me?" I'm still a bit in the dark about Israeli sizes vs. American sizes---the store keeper compared my foot to hers and said she fit into the larger size, and as our feet were about the same size, so would I.

But 12 shek? Could I justify it?

"Oh go ahead" my friend insisted, pulling out a pair with purple and yellow stripes and pretty pink hearts, "see, these match your purple sweater!" The two purples matched perfectly. Now, I'd have to be a complete and utter fool to try and argue with logic such as that. *

Got home and pulled off my boring black socks and put the hearts and stripes on. And smiled. They warmed my feet and my heart, and every time I see my feet I start smiling again. Cost, 12 shek. Effect, priceless.

Like my friend said, she has begun a new trend.

She also has a new career in sales.

Pixelus

Pixelus, my newest addiction; a popcap game I just can't seem to get enough of. I'm blowing off dishes, and laundry, despite the soon to be mobbed status of my house, to play it. Anyone else try their hand at it?

I know, I know, I'm such a child. But it is fun I tell you!! And, I'm improving my brain as I do it. At least that is what I keep telling myself as I sit game after game while the work piles up.

Plaing hooky isn't just for the under twenty set you know!

The World Is Coming To an End!!!!!

Abandon all hope! Pray! Man the life boats! Ship a remnanet to Mars!!!!

Okay,

The Monkey has lice, I woke up with a stiff neck, we are having guests for Shabbat (hopefully), but I haven't prepared a single thing yet, and on Sunday we are having a party for the Artitist's 11 birthday (up to 30 girls!) and the house is a mss. That's almost like the world ending isn't it?