I bet you think I've forgotten all about this blog, don't you? Well, okay - you may be right. Or partially. I've been THINKING about writing in here, quite a bit actually, but I never seem to think about it when it's easy to sit down and do it. So here I am, finally.

Let's see. What's happened this past month? Life kind of caught up with me here in the Holy Land. Getting ready for Pesach and then Pesach - our first as Israeli citizens! Kind of wierd only having one seder; with all the preparation beforehand, it was almost anti-climatic. But the three of us (Emma included) went to stay with our friends in Kochav Yaakov for Yom Tov and we had a wonderful time. Their 7 year old, Hudi, stayed up for the whole seder (we ended about 2:30 in the morning) and contributed quite a bit to the discussions. I was very impressed. The last time we stayed there for Pesach (three years ago), we made the decision to make aliyah. And now we're looking seriously at moving to Kochav Yaakov.

Tomorrow I'm going with a friend of mine (well, I'm actually going with her; she has a car) to look at some houses there. There's nothing to rent so we might have to buy something. I'm so sad to be leaving Ramat Beit Shemesh but it's just too hard for David. We had found a great 5 bedroom apartment with a huge yard here in RBS close to the shopping area with reasonable rent, but David just doesn't want the commute. Kochav Yaakov is about 20 minutes away from where he works by bus as opposed to over an hour from here. The majority of people who live on the the yishuv are French, but there are about 45-50 Anglo families there now. We shall see how tomorrow goes.

If you looked out your window in the middle of the afternoon and everything looked kind of grey and fuzzy, you'd probably just shrug and think, "Hmm. It's a little foggy out." Right? But what if the fog got thicker and thicker until you couldn't see across the street? And it was really warm out and the wind was blowing? Maybe you would you think, "Hmm. A storm must be coming." But what if your eyes started to burn and your nose would start running and the furniture you just dusted suddenly was covered with dust again and when you walked across the floor you could hear grit squishing under your shoes? Well, if you lived where I live, you'd think, "Hmm. Sand storm! Close the windows and the shutters and turn on the ac!" 'Cause that's what I did today in the worst sand storm we've had since we moved here. I REALLY hate running the air conditioning in April, but, combined with my terrible allergies which haven't been bad in years until this spring, this sand storm is a doozy. It's just after 9 PM and David just came in from walking Emma. He said it's still 26 degrees out (that's Celcius - about 80 degrees Farhenheit) and the wind is really blowing. I'd better brush the sand off Emma.

I'm so worried about a dog we've befriended. He's the most beautiful, gentle, blonde furry dog with golden eyes like Anton (our dog in the states we had to put to sleep). Someone told me that they saw someone drive by and shove him out the door on our corner some weeks back. Wht is wrong with people?! He followed Emma and I on our walk about a week ago, and I saw he had no collar and his hair was all matted, so we stayed away from him. But yesterday he saw us and came into the park in front of our apartment building and I cautiously let Emma off her leash (because if I hadn't she would have pulled my arm off...). She ran in maniacal circles around him for about 15 minutes, and he just laid down and watched her. When she finally got up the courage to go sniff him, he just rolled over so she could check him out. He's about 5 times her size, but he was so gentle with her! When I finally brought Emma in, I went back outside with a bowl of water and he drank it all without stopping. My heart really went out to him, but we just can't take another dog; especially now that we're moving.

This morning I took Emma out early because I had to catch an early bus into Yerushalayim for a doctor's appointment, and the dog showed up again. This time he just wanted me to pet him. After I brought Emma in I went back out with water and dog food, but he was gone. I hope he found some shelter today from all this sand in the air. David saw him this morning and agreed he looked like Anton. If we end up getting a house with a yard, we may have to think about taking him with us ... but I'm afraid in two months' time he'll be hardened by living outside. And I don't know how he'd do with someone (me) giving him a bath. I just have to stop worrying about him.

My baby turned 25 yesterday. Am I really old enough to have sons in their twenties - now mid to late twenties?! How did all this time pass? And the real question is - where was I when it was happening?

So I'm working now, from home. At last count I've typed up seven transcripts - for a grand total of about $150. Whew - the money's really rolling in now! All they've sent me so far are short court proceedings, like anywhere from 7 minutes to 27 minutes. One was actually close to two hours. I'm kind of glad, though. If I have to start packing everything up again, I'm going to need some time. But just finding us a place to live is going to take time also. And if we have to buy, it means navigating the Israeli system when we don't know the language so it's going to cost to get a good attorney. Which means I should be working more. But then I don't have time to do the legwork. Kind of makes me feel like I'm on a teeter-totter.

My mahj group is really upset we're leaving. What kind of a rotten scum am I to break up two perfectly good mah jongg groups? All I can say is - there's better be 3 eager mah jongg players wherever we move to...

After my doctor visit this morning, I took the #2 bus to the kotel. For some reason, I've only been there 3 or 4 times since we moved here. When I saw it, it was almost startling. I pulled a chair as close as I could (considering there were a whole lot of other ladies davening there) and before I started reading my tehillim and saying all my personal prayers for my family and friends, I just sat there and looked up at this Wall. Every once in awhile I have these moments of, "Hey, I live here! I can hop on a bus and walk through the security and sit down right in front of this Wall where so many of my ancestors over the last however many thousand years (I should know how many, right?) stood and communed with Hakodesh Boruch Hu." After 9 months of living here, I, sadly, don't have so many moments of that sudden Awe any more. But today it just hit me square in the face.

The next war with Lebanon is going to be happening soon. It kind of scares me to be moving in the middle of the summer when everything will most likely be happening. But life has to go on, without worrying about the "what if's." I just told that to a friend recently, so I guess I have to practice what I preach.

I could go on and on and on (as you may know), but I think I'll stop here. By the way -- oh wait. I'm really going to stop now. That's it.

Hi, All! I should be cleaning for Pesach, but I'm giving myself some time off for good/awful/awful good behavior. You decide.

Our friends, Ellen and Kalman, made a wedding for their daughter, Ali, this past week. The wedding was last Thursday in Yerushalayim, on the worst day (weather-wise) we've had since we moved here. All day the thunder was crashing, the wind the gusting, rain poured periodically - and to top it off - we had hail! It was hitting the windows so hard I couldn't believe it! Emma was a little puzzled when, during a lull in the weather, I took her outside and we were walking on little balls of ice. In Yerushalyim it was actually snowing.

But we made it to the wedding hall; another couple we'd met in ulpan, Karen and Al, gave me a ride and David went straight from work. Poor Ellen! Murphy's law was definitely at work that night. They'd left a bag at home here in Ramat Beit Shemesh with Ellen's sheitel (wig), shoes, jewelry, and Igor's (the choson/groom) new kippah. Thank G-d she had a friend there who normally doesn't cover her hair who gave her a beautiful black hat that exactly matched her dress, and one of the kallah's (bride's) friends had an extra pair of shoes that fit perfectly. The wedding hall Ali and Igor had booked (before Ellen had a chance to see it) had two rooms; the big, beautiful nice one - and Ali and Igor's. It was a tiny, dilapidated room with no heat, torn-up floors, white cloths shabbily hung on the walls to cover up holes, and a very meager staff. But Ali was radiant, and everyone's enthusiasm made up for the surroundings.

Last night we made sheva brachot for them (one of the seven meals they have each day for a week after the wedding with at least 10 men who make 7 blessings for the choson and kallah). I had decided to make meatballs and rice, because it would be easy and not so expensive for so many people. HAH!!!

I actually don't think I've ever made meatballs before. There was an extremely easy recipe in my old Betty Crocker cookbook for sweet 'n sour meatballs using cranberry sauce, ketchup, brown sugar and lemon juice. How easy is that?

So, before Shabbos I made the sauce. It wasn't exactly the flavor I was hoping for, but, oh well. After Shabbos I took out all the ground turkey I had defrosted, added the last of my bread crumbs (see, I'm doing a little for Pesach already!), some eggs, onions, whatever. Then I formed about 90 nice-sized meatballs. But then I worried, as always, that maybe it wouldn't be enough for 20 people. Am I a Yiddishe mama or what? So I had to take out a package of ground beef and defrost it in the microwave. I had already used all my bread crumbs so I added some matza meal.

Okay, so now I have about 105 meatballs, more or less. The recipe says to throw it in the sauce which has been simmering on the stove. All the meatballs were in one large bowl, getting all squished together unbeknownst to myself as I was making the extra batch, and just as I was dumping it into the sauce, David came into the kitchen and said, "You should really fry those in a pan first to keep them from falling apart."

He couldn't have said that about 10 seconds earlier?

Now comes the fun part of the evening.

All of the meatballs were, of course, falling apart in the sauce and I started digging them out with my large slotted spoon until all 105 of them were in about 6 plates, all soaked and dripping with sauce. I got out a frying pan, put in some oil, put on some latex gloves and started re-forming the balls one by one, at the same time trying to wipe off as much sauce as possible before putting them in the frying pan. I wasn't sure if I should be laughing at the total ridiculousness of the situation or crying at the frustration of it. Here I was doing a mitzvah, and the simplest thing was taking hours of my time! The thought crossed my mind that there must be a Candid Camera somewhere in the kitchen getting all this on tape, but then I decided that the only audience I had was Hashem. I have to shake my head sometimes at His sense of humor. And then I realize that He's telling me I'm taking myself too seriously again and He's having a little fun with me. Okay.

So I take my time re-rolling those balls, wiping off the extra sauce, frying them a little until I'm sure they'll keep their shape before they go back into the pot of sweet 'n sour sauce, which is now a sauce dotted with tiny pieces of meat throughout. I scrub the frying pan between each batch, taking my time, laughing at myself.

Later (much later...), as the pot sat simmering on the stove and I was washing my way through an unbelievable pile of bowls, plates, cooking utensils, pots and pans, I realized I smelled something burning. Oh, yeah - it was. But I got to it in time, and David came in and poured everything into our super large soup pot. Then we just looked at each other, and I have to hand it to him; he did a super-human job of not bursting into laughter or making even the tiniest of comments which I'm sure were already formulating in his mind.

In the end, everything turned out fine. We only had about 15 people. One guy forgot about coming and worked late, but David started knocking on doors in our apartment building (only in Israel!), and a teen-age son of our Vaad Habayit (apartment manager) came down to join us. A couple of rabbis were here and they gave great divrei Torah, and after the benching all the men started dancing, which is no easy feat in our tiny apartment where the couches were already upended to make room for all the tables.

And, of course, after everyone left and we had cleaned up somewhat and David had gone to bed, all I could think was - When will it be my turn? Jared seems to be pretty settled in his (non-Jewish) home life, and Nathan isn't in any hurry to meet someone until he's able to earn enough money and have some kind of parnassah (living), and he's not at that point yet. I started to miss my friends back home and called Barb, one of my first friends I had made in St. Louis when I moved back there from Milwaukee in 1992 and who had been one of my mah jongg partners for 9 years. It was so nice to hear her voice! Then I tried calling Lynda, one of my other mahj partners, but she wasn't home and I left a message. I already talk periodically with Shifra, the fourth in our mahj group. Barb and Lynda don't have computers, so we're really out of touch. Hard to believe there are people without computers in this day and age.

Some people would consider my sitting here writing a waste of time on a beautiful, sunny Monday afternoon exactly two weeks before Pesach. (Actually, it's the first sunny day in over a week.) I have accomplished a few things today, however; I ordered meat for Pesach from the butcher in Yerushalayim, I ordered kosher-for Pesach dog food from our vet, I ordered matza that will be delivered a week from Thursday, and I called Avi at Nefesh about possible communities that we could move to that would be closer to where David works. Avi emailed me contact names of people in 4 different communities; Maale Adumim, Ramot, Nachalot and Efrat. We also spoke about Kochav Yaakov, and even moving to Beit Shemesh. So now we have to think about visiting each of those communities, maybe spending a Shabbos in Efrat and Maale Adumim. Nachalot is the only neighborhood actually in Yerushalayim, behind the shuk. I really didn't want "city" living, but that would certainly be in the center of things.

Okay, time to clean out some kitchen cabinets - I have an hour before my Israel mahj group shows up for our Monday afternoon game...

Do me a favor. I have an overwhelming desire to impart something breathtakingly beautiful to you. Please read this and then close your eyes. Sit back in your seat. Then try to picture it all in your mind. Let me see if I can do it justice.

Look at the picture above which we took from our mirpeset when we first moved here last summer of our front walk, the park, the hills in the background. This is the view we had earlier this evening:

It's 15 minutes before the end of Shabbos. David and I are sitting on our glider, Emma in my lap, on our smaller mirpeset, facing exactly what you see in the picture. It's dusk; the sun has set but it's not yet fully dark. There are no clouds in the sky, save for some wispy cotton here and there. Only one bright light glitters so far which I found out later this evening was Saturn, the brightest planet this time of year. It's about 70 degrees and a faint breeze is blowing. Even though we live at a major intersection (for these here parts), no car passes by. We hear crickets and possibly frogs. Above us, one floor up and diagonally across, a father and his son also sit on their mirpeset. It's obvious to us, even without knowledge of the language, that Abba is helping his young son with tomorrow's homework; asking him questions, discussing points with him. (We pick up a few words here and there - and are quite proud of ourselves.) Across the street, the hills are finally green; blossoms are everywhere (my eyes and nose have been quite cognizant of this the past few days - and scores of families were out there walking this beautiful Shabbos afternoon).

Abba leaves to go to shul for maariv and we are left in the darkness, a sky lit up now by multitudes of stars, the quiet, the crickets, the warm breeze, the hills, the glider slowly rocking, the immense gratitude - could Shamayim possibly be more kodesh (holy) than this?

Well, we've been here for Tisha B'Av, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Succos, Chanukah, and now Purim. I always thought Succos was my favorite holiday, but I have to say - Purim in Israel is AWESOME! I love it here!!

David woke me up early on Shabbos morning because it was Parshas Zachor and I had to be in shul to hear the few passuks (lines in the Torah reading) about stamping out Amalek. For those who don't know, Amalek is one of the very many Jew haters in course of our very long history. He lives on in Hitler and all those throughout history who have tried to wipe us out. Haman, the bad guy in the Purim story, was a descendant of Amalek. By the way, in my "reform" upbringing, no one ever told us in our Sunday School classes that all those stories we read about were real; that the people and the events that happened were part of our very real history and not just fairy tales to entertain us. Here in Israel, the history of all those "characters" are all around you, and when you live here you feel part of the each succeeding generation who lived through each part of our history. It's just so awesome.

So I went to shul and saw lots of friends I haven't seen in awhile because I actually haven't been there in awhile (even though the shul is less than a block away). I even went to a shiur right after services (which end by 10:15 AM every week - see why I rarely make it there?) for women. While there, I saw Rebecca who gives a shiur on Shabbos afternoons. I hadn't gone last week, and she told me what time to come. So I went to TWO shiurim in one day! Plus I went to shul! David was very happy with me. I love to hear Rebecca speak. Only 4 of us came, but she researches all of her topics so thoroughly and is so excited about every thing she teaches. This week was, of course, about Purim, and Esther and Mordechai's role in saving the Jews from annihilation. There are just layers upon layers of meaning in every single sentence of the Megillah (the story of Purim we're required to hear twice on Purim). As we were leaving, Rebecca told me about the party she has for women every Purim night - starting at 11 PM. I thought, why not?

David and I went to maariv (the evening service) and to hear the Megillah reading. Purim is the festival where everyone dresses up in costume. The whole idea is to show that we are not who we look like externally. That's putting it extremely simplistically, and there are many other explanations. David dressed as Bob the Builder (jeans, hard hat, tool belt), and I wore my blue afro. I tried to figure out how to make it stand straight up in a Marge Simpson hairdo, but it wasn't made to go in just one direction. The Megillah reading was fun. In St. Louis I always went to a later, women's only reading, but I wanted to go to the first reading possible so we could go to a party and get our shalach manot ready at home. As the Megilla is being read, everyone has to be extremely quiet, even the kids, and we have to hear every single word - except when Haman's name is mentioned. Then everyone waves their groggers or stamp their feet or yell "boo!" or make whatever loud noise they can to stamp out his hated name. The reading took about an hour and then we stood outside and talked with people for quite awhile. A friend of ours, Tzvi, had on a monster face which scared some kids, but others were trying to pull it off of him. He was trying to convince them that it was scarier underneath! Another guy, Shimon, who had brought his guitar and was wearing long blond curls, threw his arms around Tzvi and said in as high a voice as he could muster, "No, he's mine! Leave him alone!" Everybody was in a happy mood and playing around.

We went home and by the time I finished cleaning up from Shabbos and filling the shalach manot bags, it was already 11! David hadn't wanted to go to any of the shul parties (most of them were having one), but I headed over to Rebecca's. I had so much fun there! About 15 women showed up; some I knew and some I didn't. It was like being at a slumber party when I was a teenager. Rebecca is probably one of the most learned (in Torah) women I've ever met, but she made some kind of a hot punch with vodka (gin?) in it, and everyone had a cup or two, and we giggled and played and just let go of our everyday lives. We each told about the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to us (everything from bad blind dates to sheitels coming off in public), and then we put on some old rock music and danced. By the time they put on an old Beatles tape, we were singing "A Hrd Days' Night", "Help", and all the oldies at the top of our lungs and dancing like we used to in the old (read: secular) days. I barely had a voice left when I left at 1:30 in the morning! And I really missed a couple of you in St. Louis that I know would have had a blast at the party!

But I had to get up by 7 yesterday morning to get to shul for the second Megillah reading. It wasn't quite so crowded this time as most of the men had heard it already in shacharis (the morning service) and left. The guy who read it for us was phenomenal. He had a different voice for each time Esther or Ahashveros or Mordechai or Haman spoke, and even when he read about the horse that Haman had to lead Mordechai on, he had a special whinny voice for the horse. It was great! When I got home, we filled up our cart on wheels, mapped out our route, saddled up Emma (okay, we put her leash on) and headed out to deliver our shalach manot.

Who would ever have guessed it would be 80 degrees out?! We walked up the hill on Hayarden, cut through Sun Gardens, down to the end of Shimshon and back the other way to Dolev, and then ALL THE WAY AROUND Dolev and down Habesor to our apartment. It took about 2 hours and we were hot and pooped. But EVERYONE was out on the streets; the costumes showed so much creativity and everyone was friendly and talkative - you can't even imagine the sense of belonging, the sense of oneness. I so wish it could be like this between everyone in Eretz Yisrael every day. But we'll stay positive here. One young couple and their little toddler had Cat in the Hat costumes on and Thing #1 and Thing #2 imprinted on the front. After they passed us, we realized they had the same words imprinted on their backs - in Ivrit! There was a 10 foot high monster that Emma wasn't sure if she should bark at or run away from, and decorated cars with loudspeakers and music playing everywhere.

Our seuda (festive meal you're supposed to have) was waaayyy over on Lakish and we had to bring the soda and wine. Poor David had to pull the cart with 10 heavy bottles and 3 more packages we had to deliver. I tried to call a cab but none of the companies were answering the phone. So we finally showed up. It was supposed to be all adults, but apparently the host family had invited more people and there were 27 of us - and a lot of kids. They were afraid there wouldn't be enough food but there was plenty. No one was drinking, though. The men are supposed to drink enough not to be able to tell the difference between Mordechai (the good guy) and Haman (we already talked about him). The idea is "when the drink goes in, the truth comes out." There's all kind of kabbalistic stuff about the drinking; you'll have to ask your local rabbi. David never feels he can enjoy the holiday because he has to go to work the next day; I think he only had one glass of wine.

It was so tough walking home. My legs were sore and I was so exhausted from not much sleep the night before and all that walking we'd done. We were supposed to stop by another friend's house who had also invited us to their seuda, but we just went home. Everyone was setting off firecrackers and there were yeshiva boys and kids all over the streets. It was just so nice to be part of the whole thing.

Today is Shushan Purim. In a walled city, like Yerushalayim, Purim is celebrated today - the 15th of Adar (on the Jewish calendar) as oppposed to the 14th. A lot of people started celebrating yesterday and then went to Yerushalayim today to continue their celebration. I remember Nathan telling me about it when he was here in yeshiva. I've been more than happy to take it easy today! I've been cleaning, doing laundry, making dinner for David for when he comes home from work and before he goes to shul to learn, and taking Emma out now and then. Our friend Dov is coming by soon with his two kids. Emma will be very happy to see the kids. Dov is bringing me my headset and foot pedal so I can start working on my first legal transcript. I guess I'm ready! We really want to be able to make some extra money to be able to save up to buy an apartment in the next couple of years.

I had practically told David I'd move to Yerushalayim, but after the party at Rebecca's and celebrating Purim, I know that I really want to stay in Ramat Beit Shemesh! I really love it here so much. It was so nice to go to shul or sit in the shiur or go to the party - and actually recognize a lot of people! It just seems like we have a "place" here. But we still need to find a less expensive apartment, and with a yard.

Besides, listen to what I saw this morning: As I was walking Emma out in the park, Coco was out in her yard and started barking when she saw Emma, which of course made Emma run over to Coco's yard and start barking back. Shaina invited Emma to come play for an hour or so. When I went downstairs to get her later, I saw Shaina and her girls going out the front door of the building. I followed them out and when Shaina saw me, she pointed to to the corner where Hayarden and Hayarkon meet. On the hill were hundreds of sheep, literally just yards from the street! There were some Arab herders moving them across the hill further down on the hills by Hayarkon. It was so cool! I got Emma, then went home and got out my camera. We've heard them a lot recently and have seen them in the distance, but they've never been this close. A lot of people were looking out from their mirpesets. You don't find a lot of sheep in your back yard in St. Louis!

It's getting dark out; hopefully we're going to get some more rain. We need it.

Time to go; things to do.

Oh, wow - so cool! Albert just called us from St. Louis to wish us a good Purim. I was trying to describe what it was like here just before Shabbos, just before the chag. As soon as we hung up, there was a loud commotion outside, and David and I went to stand out on our big mirpeset. There was a looooonnnnggg parade of cars (and all manner of trucks and ambulances and bikes) driving by decorated with balloons and posters, and they were all honking and yelling stuff (in Ivrit) through loudspeakers! They went down to the corner, around the kikar and back up Nachar Hayarden. Everyone ran outside to see them. I can only imagine how wild and crazy it will be here after Shabbos and on Sunday!

This is the 56th post I've made since I started this blog 6 months ago. Why is it so easy to write here, but so hard to do my writing assignment for my Tuesday morning workshop? Our assignment tomorrow is to write two pages about a childhood memory regarding a Yom Tov. The problem is, I have no memories of any. I do remember when I was four and my father was sleeping in the second twin bed in my room because they had just brought my new sister home from the hospital, and my brother came in, shaking me and yelling about Santa coming in the night and I needed to go see what was in the living room. It was totally dark out and it was only at my father's urging that I stumbled out of bed to see what the fuss was all about. I honestly don't remember an xmas tree (Baruch Hashem!), but I do remember stacks of wrapped gifts everywhere and the most unbelievably wonderful pressed board kitchen set in the whole world. There was a refrigerator and a stove and a sink, and if you put water in a little container under the sink, you could turn the faucet on and water would come out! Certainly not the sophisticated stuff on the market today, but back then it was state-of-the-art. However, a story about waking up to toys left by Santa was not the type of thing I wanted to read aloud to a group of frum women in Har Nof. So I wrote one draft with 2 pages of dialogue on an erev Pesach where each of my siblings and I had conversations with my mother regarding the important question of the day: was the charoses made with grape juice or wine? The other draft, which I finished just minutes ago, was a more somber look at the dynamics of my family. It had less dialogue, but a little more developed story. The only problem is, when I read it out loud I start crying at the end because, even though parts of it are made up, the basic premise is true, and it hits a little too close to the pain I didn't know I was still carrying around (my mom being diagnosed with breast cancer...). So I sent both versions to a fellow writer and friend in St. Louis and asked for feedback. I'm looking forward to her comments.

Shabbos was gorgeous and sunny and fun! Friday night we had 3 couples over and we laughed a lot. One of the men always has great dvrei Torah, although he had to be careful because his wife was going to be using one of them Saturday night at her daughter's bridal shower (which I went to even though Rabbi Yari was in town and there was to be a melava malka with him at a former St. Louisan's home in Har Nof. Instead we got to play really "exciting" party games, like dress each other up as brides with toilet paper. Yes, it's true. Rolls and rolls of toilet paper. As David said, we have to nurture new relationships...)

For Shabbos lunch we joined a rabbi and his wife who made aliyah from LA last September. I really enjoy meeting new people. The rabbi runs the evening learning program that David goes to twice a week.

Yesterday I had to go to a place in Yerushalayim I'd never been, all by myself. I had to get a bone density test (all us old ladies have to get them) at a hospital in the Katamon neighborhood. I actually rode the #418 autobus from Ramat Beit Shemesh which I've not done before - my first mehadrin bus. I need to describe this in an objective and politically correct way. Okay, how's this: on a mehadrin bus, the men don't want to be "tempted" by the sight of a woman, so the women "get" to sit in the back of the bus where it's bumpier, smellier and quite out of the eyesight of these very religious men who might see a part of a woman's body that isn't totally covered up, or that might very well be covered up but which might incite some part of their imaginations to work overtime. Of course, the women pay the price for these overactive imaginations. What do you think, was that objective enough?

I'm not a women's libber or a feminist, but I do have to say that I find it demeaning to be relegated to the back of a bus. On the other hand, I really enjoyed this particular bus! I sat right behind the back door, and there was a wide open space in front of me which helped my claustophobic tendencies greatly. Plus, hardly anyone rode the bus. Unfortunately, there was a baby in the back who cried, loudly, the entire last half hour of the trip; I felt more sorry for the mother than for the rest of us. I got off the bus at the convention center and waited for the #13, which is what they (the hospital) told me to take. After waiting half an hour and not seeing the #13, I crossed under the road in the tunnel to the Takanah Merkazit side and before I could even start looking for the correct bus stop, the #13 pulled up right in front of me. It was crowded! I stood for part of the time, but it wasn't so bad. After awhile I went up to the bus driver and asked him, בבקשה תגידי לי איזה תקנה במזגב לדך. Okay, I can't put any punctuation on that, and I don't know if the Hebrew will show in the post, and I don't know if I spelled it right, but the driver told me where to get off at the right place (it was the last bus stop). So now I know how to go on Wednesday when I have to go back for a full pulmonary work-up (I still have this fluid in my right lung that they can't figure out).

When I left the hospital, I took a taxi to Geulah. You can't even begin to imagine all the Purim costumes and accouterments pouring out onto the sidewalks of all the shops. I bought David a pirate hat with green hair, and I got myself a sky blue HUGE afro. It's so funny to see Santa hats with payos or braids, and seeing all these religious people buying them because they have absolutely no idea what they are.

While waiting at the bus stop for the #417 to go home, a girl came up to ask if it had shown up yet and we started talking. It's turns out she's married to a St. Louis boy and her parents were one of the couples we had for dinner Friday night! We talked all the way back on the bus. Once again (and not for the last time), it's such a small world!

I'm waiting for my mahj partners to show up. It's pretty rainy out; I hope they remember to come. Just in case they don't, I didn't pop any popcorn yet. Hopefully it won't be so rainy tomorrow or Wednesday when I have to go to Yerushalayim. 3 times this week! We're really seriously considering moving closer to the "city", but I just love it here so much. It's so beautiful here; we have a great view and have made some good friends and there's a great park where Emma can run around. But if we move there, the commute will be so much easier and there are so many more programs and learning opportunities in Yerushalayim. I can't even imagine having to pack everything back up again. And it will be more expensive there. But it will probably take David 2 hours to get home tonight with this rain. But we invited Coco up this morning to play with Emma and she had such a good time on her play date. This is better, that's better. We're going to have to sit down and think through all the pros and cons.

Oh, there was a great story I wanted to relate to you that David told me he witnessed on the bus. A down's syndrome boy of about 12 or 13 got on and sat right behind the bus driver. The boy must ride that particular bus regularly and he realized the driver was new. David was sitting one seat back on the other side and had a clear view of the boy giving directions to the bus driver. The driver took it all in stride and nodded agreeably with each direction. After a few stops, a young soldier got on the bus, and greeted the young boy in such a way that David felt they must have known each other. He sat in the front seat with him, and before long the boy fell asleep on the soldier's shoulder. They stayed like that all the way into Yerushalayim.

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I wrote all that on Monday and saved it as a draft; this is the first chance I've had to finish it.

My mahj partners ended up coming; we had a great time; my writer's workshop was cancelled on Tuesday because several ladies cancelled due to getting ready for Purim; I finished editing my deposition sample for the transcription company and will probably start working for them next week (not that I have time to work - I've been pretty busy lately).

So that brings us up to Wednesday, which would be yesterday. I took a bus to Sheinfeld mid-morning, which is an Anglo neighborhood in Beit Shemesh and was easily able to find a home where I attended a Lunch & Learn. But not just any Lunch & Learn; the speaker was Rebbetzin Pearl Borow, originally of St. Louis! The woman who hosted the shiur had posted it on the Beit Shemesh email list, and when I saw Pearl's name, I knew I had to go. We get the Israel Center Bulletin each week from Yerushalayim. They have many classes and programs on a weekly basis, and I've been noticing that Pearl gives a lot of classes there, as does Rabbi Bienenfeld, also a former St. Louisan. She gave a wonderful talk about Esther and her role in the Purim story.

Afterwards, I got a ride to Yerushalayim with the woman who drove Pearl back, and this lady drove me directly to the hospital where I (thought) I was to have the pulmonary work-up. You may be thinking, "I wonder why she went all the way to to Yerushalayim when she only "thought" she was having a pulmonary work-up." When one has an appointment to have something done, one believes that it should happen, nachon (right?) But no, in this country when one's doctor writes an order for a test, one must go get a form from the kupat giving permission to have that test (and/or testifying that one has paid for the test if payment is needed), and BOTH pieces of paper must be presented to the receptionist. Not having been told this little bit of information, I unsuspectingly arrived at my destination with only ONE piece of paper in hand. No amount of cajoling, begging, or laying on of guilt (I don't believe Israelis are familiar with that particular emotion) elicited any symapathy or compassion on their part, and I now have another appointment for NEXT Wednesday. See what I mean about having to move closer?

As I left from there, with only 7 shekels to my name, a very nice English-speaking woman drove me to a bus stop on Emek Refaim (a Clayton-esque kind of area for you St. Louisans) and told me the #4 would take me down to Shmuel Hanavi, where I wanted to go. I walked the last 10 blocks or so to Yad Ezra VeShulamit, where I wanted to drop off our Matanos L'evyomin (donation for the needy) for Purim. {side note: I had originally made some beautiful postcards to hand out on Purim saying that in lieu of Mishloach Manot - gifts of food to friends - we would be donating to Yad Ezra VeShulamit. My mah jongg partners not-so-gently explained to me that no one would ever want to be our friends and we would be ostracized by all of Ramat Beit Shemesh if we would do such a thing. It is customary to "go all out" on Purim; mishloach manot here consists of "themes" or "color schemes" and very creative packages. So I ended up making today some very spicy salsa and I'm going to make some chips out of pita bread and zatar to go along with it. The things you have to do to keep up with the Cohens!}

So, anyway.

I called David who was getting off in an hour and we decided to meet in Geulah and go out for dinner. I walked up Yehezkel while I was waiting for him and just happened to find myself in a (very inexpensive) woman's clothing store. I was so proud of myself for bargaining the price down. The shop owners expect it; they're disappointed when they tell you the price and you just pay it (so I've been told). There was a style of blouse that fit me well, and they had it in 4 colors. So I chose two of them. The price was 59 NIS each (that's less than $15). I asked if he'd take 100 NIS for both of them. He said the special was 3 for 150 NIS. I countered that I didn't need 3 of the same style and only wanted 2. He said 2 for 118 NIS. I shook my head sadly and started to put them back on the shelf. He said, "Bring them back. 100 shekels." We both smiled and I told him I liked his store and I'd be back.

The second store had an owner who was a little more stubborn, but when David showed up he was pretty amused by watching me wheel and deal. Our friend's daughter is getting married in two weeks, and I got a gorgeous outfit for 200 NIS (less than $50), down from 249 NIS.

Getting home from Geulah was a mess. It's a good thing Shaina had been looking in on Emma all afternoon. After dinner we tried to get on the 7:00 PM bus, but it was packed, and about 50 people elbowed us out of the way to get on first. So we took some back streets and got on the next bus two stops earlier. It took 15 minutes for the bus to travel to the bus stop we had originally been standing at! There were so many cars, taxis, buses and people, it was total gridlock. All of Geulah and Mea Shearim was a party atmosphere with music playing, speakers blasting messages from vans, people standing 10 deep in stores buying Purim supplies, people and billions of strollers crossing the streets and crowding the sidewalks. It was awesome! Tourists, Israelis, chassidim, you name it. But we didn't get home until almost 9. I can see why David wants to live closer.

David informed me that he came up with his own idea for a Purim costume (he didn't like the pirate hat with the green ponytail I had bought him?). He's going to wear a denim shirt (I accidentally wrote skirt and had to change it - he hasn't gone that far over the edge yet) and jeans with his tool belt and a hard hat so he can be a contruction worker. I think he just wanted an opportunity to wear jeans. He said he originally was going to call himself a plumber but that he thought it wouldn't be too tznius ... okay, you'll have to figure that one out for yourself.

Today was Taanis Esther, a fast day. Here we are in Israel and David works with all Jews, and hardly anyone was fasting today. He said people told him that not everyone observes these minor fast days, especially when it was supposed to be on Shabbos and got pushed back to Thursday. But we did it, and we had our usual break-the-fast - bagels and omelettes, but I also surprised him with french fries. I never used to make dinner during the week; we'd both just scrounge around for whatever looked good. But now that David's working such long hours and I'm not (yet), I've been trying to have dinner waiting for him every night. He really likes that!

Because today was Taanis Esther, they had a Torah reading during minchah. A lot of the men where David works daven minchah every day somewhere in their building but they don't have a Torah scroll. Intel is located in Har Hotzvim, which is an industrial area. NDS, another company there, has a Torah, and guys came from IDT and Intel and other companies there to daven minchah in the lobby of NDS. Can you picture that? Pretty cool!

For us baal teshuvas (people who don't come from religious families and become observant later in life), experiences like that have a lot of meaning for us. Davening in company lobbies (or on street corners, like we did on our tiyul to Tel Aviv a few months ago with our ulpan class), seeing people waving chickens around their heads at Succos time, seeing all the menorahs in all the windows at Chanukah - the holidays here are so much more meaningful for us now than they used to be.

It's almost midnight and I still have to mop the living room/dining room floor. Emma's asleep on the couch. What are the chances I can put her in bed with David and she'll stay there out of my way while I mop?

Hear ye, hear ye! It is now officially the month of Adar, a time of joy and rejoicing! Everywhere one looks there are Purim costumes, pre-packaged (ooh, the prices!) Moshloach Manot, firecrackers going off, and most enjoyable of all (to me) - the donkeys pulling carts of people through the streets, or down at the mercaz with saddle bags of groceries ridden by yeshiva bochurim (young men learning Torah). Okay, I've been trying really, really hard not to write this, but I just can't help myself: I've never seen so many asses before!

For those of you who don't understand, the holiday of Purim is next week. It's one of those holidays of "They tried to kill us, we won, let's eat" kind of things. It's the story of physical annihilation of the Jews by a bad guy named Haman (may his name be blotted out) and Hashem turns things upside down with the help of Queen Esther and her uncle, Mordechai. Haman ends up being hanged, the Jews lived to tell the story, and every year we celebrate with singing and dancing and the reading of the megillah (the story of Purim). There's a lot more to it than that, but suffice it to say that Purim is a BIG deal in this country. There's also a mitzvah to give money to the poor (of which there are WAY too many here) to be distributed on the day of Purim, and to give baskets of food (usually a lot of candy) to other families. I made a really nice postcard saying that in lieu of giving Shalach Manot we're donating to Yad Ezra V'Shulamit, although I'll make a couple of baskets for our friends with kids. I hope we don't get very many; I don't need the extra food!

On Monday night I went to a get-together for people who made aliyah to Beit Shemesh last summer. Disappointingly, only about 12 people came, but we all talked about our aliyah and it was pretty nice.

And on Tuesday, I went to Har Nof in Jerusalem to a writer's workshop. Does that mean I can officially call myself a writer?

"No, goofy, what kind of a writer do you think you are?"

"Well, I write a blog that almost 900 people have read in the past 3 months!"

"Is that so? Don't you think some of those 900 are the same people who have read your blog more than once?"

"Duh!!! Doesn't that prove I'm a good writer?!"

The writing workshop was about dialogue, and learning techniques of using dialogue to create a scene, or to enable the reader to learn more about the characters. And what have you as the reader learned from the above dialogue? There are no right or wrong answers to that question. I myself think it shows a definite lack of sleep since I was talking to myself...
Assignment for next week is to write two pages of a childhood memory regarding a Yom Tov (holiday). I'm not sure Leah (the writer who teachers the course) has any understanding of my total lack of memory.

Which reminds me.

I started seeing a chiropracter for the pain in my neck and shoulders and back that I've had for years. After physical therapy, cranial-sacriol therapy and massage failed to help, I thought, "Why not?" I took the doctor the CD of the back x-ray I had taken recently, and he showed me where there's been deterioration between my 4th and 5th (5th and 6th?) vertebrae. "See right here? You're out of disc space."

Later that night while David and I were having a lovely supper (it's good to throw in a couple of descriptive adjectives once in awhile), David pointed out to me that I had repeated myself about something and suggested that perhaps I was "out of memory." Okay, so all this time I thought I was a human being when all along I've been nothing but a computer? No disc space, no memory. I need an Upgrade!

We're having 3 couples for Shabbos dinner tomorrow night; all friends from ulpan. One of them is bringing her 20 year old daughter who's getting married in 3 weeks; we're going to be hosting one of the sheva brachot for her. I've been cooking like crazy all day; you'd think I was having an army. My hands are chapped from washing so many dishes and pots and pans. I miss my dishwashers I used to have. But what makes me really crazy is not having David around any more on Thursdays since he started working. He used to have no problem running (walking, skipping, whatever) up the hill to the micholet for all the things I needed while I was cooking for Shabbos. I had to drag myself up that hill twice this morning! Nobody told me that when you make stuffed cabbages, you have to buy large cabbages or you can't fold them up with the meat mixture inside. You live and learn.

There were so many other things I wanted to say this week, but my head is literally drooping (nice imagery, wouldn't you say?). Stay tuned.

Ever have a day or two when things just don't go the way you'd thought they would? Where everything you do is wrong, and at some point you just have to laugh and thank G-d for His sense of humor? He really does have a great sense of humor, doesn't he?

So I decided I wanted to work from home as a transcriptionist. A friend of mine, Lisa, has been doing it for the past year and she makes a pretty good income, by Israeli standards (you always have to qualify that statement). Lisa started with the company right when the guy was starting it and she was one of only two transcribers. Now they have so much work they need new people. So on Tuesday and Wednesday the transcription company rented a computer lab at a company that rents out such rooms for training. There were 8 of us who went for the training, from all over Israel: my friend, Ellen, and I from Beit Shemesh, one from Pisgat Ze'ev, one from Mala'ot (way up on the Lebanese border), one from Modi'in, one from Jerusalem, one from Netanya, and one from I-don't-know-where. The building was in a really modern industrial complex between the train station and Malcha Mall in Yerushalayim and the training started at 8:30 a.m. on Tuesday morning. (I hope you're in the mood to hear all the details of this very silly (sad? funny? normal-for-me?) story.

There's a 7 a.m. train and an 8 a.m. train to Yerushalayim, and it takes 45 minutes to get there. We figured another 10-15 minutes to find the office. Ellen, thankfully, has a car and picked me up at 6:40 a.m. For those of you who know me well, getting up at 5:15 am to daven and walk the dog and get myself ready is NOT my cup of tea. If we had to have taken the bus to get to the train station, we would have had to get on at 6 a.m. to get there by 7, or taken a taxi for 30NIS (shekels). Anyway, we bought our tickets and hopped on the waiting train. It was pretty crowded. We looked everywhere for 2 seats together that faced forward, but they were all taken, so we sat opposite a kid with dredlocks (boy, did that bring back memories...Nathan had them when he came back to St. Louis after his first year of yeshiva...). Almost immediately the train began to move and we were surprised because it was only 10 minutes to 7. And then I noticed something peculiar. "Ellen!" I said. "The train's going forward!"

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed. The boy across from us said, "This is the train to to Tel Aviv. Isn't that where you're going?"

"No!" we practically shouted. "We need to go to Jerusalem!" I don't know who was laughing harder, me or the people around us. Ellen was pretty annoyed and upset, but I just couldn't stop laughing. Apparently they switched the tracks about a month ago, and the northbound train (towards Tel Aviv) was on Track 1, and the southbound train (to Jerusalem) was now on Track 2. I had just ridden the train on Sunday, but it just didn't sink in; I don't think the Tel Aviv train was there that day when I left and I had just followed other people to the other track.

Ellen made some calls, and we got off at the first stop in Ramla where we had to wait 45 minutes for the train back to Beit Shemesh, and in BS we had to wait another 20 minutes for the train to Jerusalem. We walked into the training session at 10:00. Talk about making a good first impression!

Lisa was leading the training, and it was a lot harder than I thought. It's transcribing legal documents like bankruptcies, workman's comp, depositions, and various other things. Over the past year the company developed some templates and Lisa was teaching us how to use them, and also how to download the files, how to use the foot pedal, things to look out for, how to transcribe EXACTLY the way the court proceedings go, etc. They didn't pay us for the training, but they bought us lunch both days. One person was there because she wants to be an editor, and the other seven of us want to be transcribers. They didn't promise any of us jobs.

Yesterday afternoon they gave us a sample proceeding to transcribe in the space of one hour as a test to see if we have what it takes to work there. We had to know where to add the index, the jurat, the appearances, the certification page, and transcribe as many pages as we could accurately while spelling everything correctly. You have to know where on the page to write, and you have to figure out who's speaking, who's questioning, who's answering, or if it's colloquoy (yeah, like I'm going to explain THAT term to you!) . And this is after just a few hours of being given a whole lot of legal and technical information!

So, of course, my computer was the only one that wasn't working. Caryn, the office administrator of the company, worked on it for awhile and then she finally kicked another woman off her computer (the one who just wants to be an editor). By the time I was finally set up to begin, I had already lost 20 minutes and was somewhat flustered. They had written all the pertinent info on the board at the front of the room, and I was at the back, so I had to continually switch between my regular glasses and my computer glasses. I had a crazy keyboard with the forward slash key on the left where the shift key normally is, and every single time I tried to write a capital letter, I had to go back and change it. And the desk was so high, and the chair so low, I felt like a little kid at an adult party. Plus I couldn't remember a darn thing!!! Caryn kept saying, "15 more minutes. 10 more minutes. Start wrapping things up." At the end we had to email our transcript to Caryn, Lisa and ourselves. I had no idea how to email from a computer not my own. I tried going to the Aish web email, but it wouldn't let me send anything out. Caryn finally worked with it for awhile and she used her yahoo account to send it out, after I showed her which file it was. I was the last one in the room.

Ellen and I ran over to the mall so she could get her daughter a birthday/wedding gift and we still made it to the (right) train in time. I realize that this could be a high stress job, even though I can work from home, but I also know I can do a better job from my own computer.

Except-

Last night I decided to open up the file I had emailed to myself (oh yeah, right - that Caryn had emailed me) so I could look at the manual and see all the mistakes I made, and what do you think I found? I HAD EMAILED THE WRONG FILE!!! It is so not easy being me sometimes.

I tried to call Lisa, but it was late and she was asleep; she'd hadn't slept the previous 2 nights because she had a huge transcription project due (see what I mean about high stress?). But she called me this morning to tell me what I already knew. Caryn was trying to get hold of someone at the computer lab to see if they could find the file, but they most likely deleted all our stuff. Plan B is to see if Aryeh (owner of the company) will let them email me the templates and have me do a sample transcription at home. Lisa will get back to me...

Everything happens for a reason. Caryn probably thinks I'm an airhead, and even though Lisa knows my secretarial skills, it's no guarantee I'll get the job. If I do, great - we'll put every cent of it into savings, b'li neder (without making a vow), and if I don't get it, it wasn't the right job for me. It will be interesting to see what Hashem has in store for me.

So - that's my saga. David told everyone at work on Tuesday about "Vickie and Ellen's Big Adventure." Yesterday morning before he went to work, he said, "I only have two words for you: Track 2." Smart aleck. What I should have done on Tuesday morning was to call him from the train and tell him we'd decided to go to Tel Aviv and go shopping instead of going to the training. On second thought, he would have pondered that statement for about half a second and then responded, "Got on the wrong train, didn't you?" He knows me pretty well.

It was soooo nice being at home today. I actually had an appointment with a chiropracter this morning who lives up the hill a little ways. He showed me on my xray how I'm "out of disk space" between two of my vertebrae, and then he worked on me. First he cracked my neck which felt great. Then he was merciless. He worked on my neck and back, while I screamed in pain (thank G-d no one was around), and when he was finished he put some pressure on some spots that have been hurting me FOREVER, and there was so much less pain. He's not covered by the kupat, but he only charges 90NIS a session (about $22). I'm going to see him again after Shabbos, and then a couple times next week, and after that we'll taper off. But he said he's going to give me some exercises that will make the difference if the pain comes back or not, so I'll have to be pretty diligent.

Emma spent the last couple of days playing with Coco, so she thought I should take Coco's place today. All she wanted to do was play, while I was trying to clean the apartment and do some cooking. When I took her out about 5 this evening, she actually chased a wild cat up a tree. I thought that only happened in cartoons! Thank G-d the cat ran, though; I was afraid it would make a stand and claw Emma. Our puppy thinks everyone is her friend and wants them to play with her. But now that David is working, it falls to me to walk her every time. I really, really wish we had a little yard.

So, have you head about The Secret? Someone sent me four youtube videos that described The Secret and I thought it was awesome. I found out it was put out by Christians, but there was no mention of JC, and when they talked about the "universe" I just substituted Hashem in my mind. You have to see it if you haven't already (google The Secret), or else read the book. Basically, the Secret is that the universe runs by the Law of Attraction. We attract that which we think about and say. Instead of saying, "I hate my job," we should re-frame our thought to be, "I think I need a job that has better co-workers/bosses/pay/convenience/whatever. By focusing on the negative, it just gets worse, because we are attracting that which we focus on. We (I took it to mean our neshamas - souls) have the ability to make our own reality - with Hashem's help. Hashem isn't bound by the laws of nature. If we write down all the things we want in our lives, the specific circumstances, whether it be good health or money or better relations with our spouse or children - and then really focus on getting it (instead of what we normally do, which is dwell on the fact that we don't have it), the Law of Attraction says that you will get it. EVERY TIME. It's like taking the Power of Positive Thinking up to a higher level.

Of course, Hashem doesn't always grant us every thing we ask for. But it makes a lot of sense that when you're a more positive person, you're going to be happier and that will make the people all around you happier, and the world will be a better place! And then we'll have World Peace! And that will bring Moshiach (the Messiah)!! Okay, I need to tone this down a little. But it really makes a lot of sense to focus on every event and circumstance in our lives in a positive framework rather than the opposite. It will take a lot of work on our parts. I can't imagine how hard it will be for people my age, I mean - my stage of life; that is, people already so set in their ways - how about "seasoned adults"? to really change our way of thinking. The easy part is pointing it out to other people! When David started to kvetch about people pushing their way onto the bus when he was coming home from work tonight, I stopped him and tried to help him re-frame what happened in a positive way. He decided to enjoy his dinner in meditative silence after that...

I guess I'm being kicked off my computer for the rest of the evening. David is going to re-build it for me. It's been kind of sluggish, and he needs to clean it up so it works better. It's nice to have a computer gee-, uh, professional, yeah, that's the word - in the house!

Shabbat Shalom!

And here's some pictures of our baby! Coco, Emma's friend from downstairs, is the bigger dog, and the kids are Hudi and Chanita Bar-Leib. It won't let me write beside each picture, but I'm having fun putting them in here!

This past Wednesday night (after returning from the Dead Sea, we were honored to attend the last sheva brachot of Leah (Grunberger) Sipel (hope I spelled that right!) in Yerushalayim. The wedding was held in St. Louis with over 700 in attendance; I heard it was really beautiful. Of course, the super duper wedding planner/caterer/all around party and event organizer inSt. Louis, Albert Glassman, did a superb job as usual!

Here are pictures of the kallah, her father, and a more recent kallah from St. Louis, Chani (Bloch) Neuhaus, and a smattering of either married or seminary girls presently living in Israel.