I had two really great "Only in Israel" stories to relate, but now that I'm sitting down at my keyboard, I can only remember one. Maybe that's another story in and of itself - you know, the whole swiss-cheese-for-brains kind of thing. Not!

We'll get to one of the stories eventually. First I'll try to remember what's been going on in my life.

Last week I went into Yerushalayim three days in a row. I just felt like I needed to get out of the house and off the yishuv. The first day, Miryam and I first drove to Pisgat Ze'ev where we took a zillion (more or less) empty soda and water bottles to the recyclable bin, and then to the pet store (she needed bird food). We had fun taking the #8 bus into Yerushalayim; I love riding different buses and seeing what their routes are. After changing buses at the takanah merkazit (central bus station), we headed down Yaffo Street intending to go up King George and head to Talpiot. Instead, we got off the bus right as it turned onto King George so Miryam could get some American bills changed into shekels. Once we were there, I asked her if she was up for some walking and we decided to try to find Yosi Peking, which used to be a fabulous restaurant when David and I would come to Israel as tourists. I say "used to be" because they've switched locations three times, and I knew that they were just a small carry-out place now. My dentist's receptionist had told me they were now on Keren Hayemet, so we headed down King George to find it. It was supposed to be a fairly warm day, but it was overcast which kept it kind of chilly and I had just worn a light jacket. It was still SO nice to be walking in the fresh air. We found the restaurant without any trouble, but I have to say that the meal was very disappointing, especially considering how fabulous it used to be. There were just five tables inside and a few more outside; it was definitely too chilly to eat outside. The menu was small, and the food was already on a warming table ready to be ladled up. The soup was delicious but I don't think we'll be eating there again.

After lunch we just walked around. We found a great used book store where Miryam bought a couple of books. Lately it seems as if there are a lot of book stores with English books opening up. I remember when Nathan was going to yeshiva here he was always looking for bookstores with used English books (much less expensive than new ones) and now they're all over the place. Most of the bookstores even buy back the books at 70% of what you paid for them. Many of the books, though, look as if they've been packed away since the 40's and 50's, although you can always find whatever authors you're looking for and the latest bestsellers.

The following day, I jumped on a late afternoon bus and browsed around Geulah (a religious neighborhood with lots of stores) until David got off work and joined me. Waiting for him at the bus stop I ran into Karen, a friend from Ramat Beit Shemesh. It was nice to talk to her for a few minutes until David's bus came. Karen and her husband, Al, are going to the states for three weeks in January. I wish we could afford to go for a visit. All I really want to do is go play mahj with my old group! For a week straight!

David and I just walked around for a little while until we went to the takanah merkazit to catch the #143 back to Kochav Yaakov. We got there just as the bus pulled up. If David hadn't had to get home to study for ulpan the next evening, we would have stayed in town later.

The following day, my friend Ellen in Ramat Beit Shemesh and I each got on the 9 AM bus in our respective communities, and met at the takanah merkazit. We arrived at practically the same time! It was so nice to spend some time with Ellen again; we have so much in common. She doesn't get into Yerushalayim so much, so we decided to go exploring. This time we took the #14 to Talpiot. Talpiot is where most of the shopping is - for cars, furniture, household items, you name it. Every block has another mall or car lot. This day was absolutely gorgeous - 60's and not a cloud in the sky. We went through a couple of malls and then ended up walking all the way back to Emek Refaim in the German Colony. It wasn't actually so far and we both enjoyed the walk. There are a lot of restaurants on Emek Refaim, even a lot of mehadrin ones, but Ellen didn't hold by any of the hechsharim. It's amazing to me how religious people hold so differently in what they'll eat. We ended up going back in to Cafe Rimon which pretty much everyone holds by, and we split a salad. Afterwards we walked up Strauss and I got Ellen to the bus stop for the #417 back to Ramat Beit Shemesh, while I grabbed a #56 down to Shmuel Hanavi and Bar Ilan where I waited for the #143.

It's always iffy not getting on the #143 at the starting point, which is the takanah merkazit. But it was 3:15 in the afternoon so I thought I had a good chance of getting a seat. While I was waiting for the bus, I heard someone saying, "Mrs. Lecy, Mrs. Lecy" and I looked up to see Chaim, a boy who lives on my yishuv with his mother and sister. I greeted him, and then he ran back to play with his two friends; they'd obviously just gotten off school. Within two minutes, the #143 showed up and it was totally packed. All of us (and there were many) who got on at this bus stop were totally squeezed together in the aisle. I had four bags, my purse and my jacket in my arms, so I was extremely appreciative when a young girl offered me her seat (there are SOME positive aspects to getting old, it seems).

While I was getting situated in my seat, I realized that the bus driver was continually yelling, "Yeladim! Yeladim! (Children! Children!) out the door. (Get ready - this is the "Only in Israel" part.) When I looked out the window, I could see Chaim and his two friends racing around each other, oblivious to the fact that the bus had been loading for the past few minutes. They continued playing while the bus driver continued to call for them. Now where else would a driver of a packed bus be concerned about three kids who would have to wait for an even more crowded bus a half hour later? And to be cognizant of the fact that they probably rode his bus every day at that same time? The boys finally realized he was yelling for them, and they raced into the bus, having to stand in the doorway for the 40 minute drive home.

It's so wonderful to see people who care about others, whether it's bus drivers or just people on the street, and you see it every day. On one city bus I was on last week, an elderly man was still walking down the aisle to a seat when the bus driver took off, making him lose his balance. A secular girl sitting near the man grabbed his hand to help him get his balance, and they both smiled at each other as he nodded his thanks to her. I just love seeing those kind of exchanges.

It's now several hours later and I still can't remember the other story I wanted to relate. Guess I'll have to blog again when I think of it!

What an awesome, warm, sunny, cloudless, G-dfilled day!

I woke up to the doctor calling me with the results of my lab test from last week. He told me that I had a pretty virulent whatever-it-was and warned me to keep taking the antibiotics. He said no bacteria showed up but he's pretty certain it's still there and said my white blood cell count was off the charts (or way too low, I can't remember which). After I dressed and davened and ate a filling breakfast (these are all firsts for the last week, you should know), I said goodbye to Emma and walked down to the bus stop. And rode the #143 all the way to the takanah merkazeet (central bus station) without feeling sick at all! I had an ophthomologist appointment in Givat Shaul that took over two hours, counting waiting in the waiting room for my turn and for my eyes to dilate. By the time I got back to Kochav Yaakov, I'd been gone six hours! Never ever ever underestimate the value of a) a car that works and b) time.

By the time I got home the sky was totally cloudy and everyone in the bus was probably wondering about the crazy lady in the sunglasses (remember - dilated eyes). Poor Emma was very glad to see me (after my not being out of her sight for the past ten days), and was especially happy to uncross her legs and make a mad dash for the yard.

Now it's 7:45 PM and about an hour ago, I HIT THE WALL. If I weren't here typing, I'd be sacked out on the couch with my blankie. Why aren't I, you may be asking? Because I have an ulpan class here in forty-five minutes and I already cancelled on them last week. Rachel can't have it at her house because she has little kids, and Penina can't have it at her house because her second lift arrived this morning and I'd be willing to bet her house is in total pandemonium right about now. I tried to study my verbs from last year's ulpan, but the words kept swimming in front of me (to swim: לשחות)(I cheated; I just looked that up...).

David started back to ulpan after work tonight, too, after his Chanukah break. He finishes at 8:30, when we start, but by the time he grabs the #14 to the bus station and catches the 9:15 bus home, he doesn't get home until almost 10. Long day for him. Sometimes he gets tired from all the hours away from home, but sometimes he's actually energized by it. I wonder how much more energy we would have had if we'd made aliyah sooner?

By the way, did I mention we now have grass? Let me re-phrase that: WE HAVE GRASS!!! Since we've had a few rains now, grass has been sprouting like crazy in our yard. Okay, I admit there's more than a few weeds mixed in - and green onions, for some reason, but I'll take 'em! Now I have to find out, come Spring, if I can water and mow the yard. During Shemitta year there's a lot you can't do, especially to promote growth, but there are some things you can do to keep it from dying a slow, dry death. I'll keep you informed.

What a week! If I'd had to give odds at any point last week that I would still be alive today, it would only have been 50/50, chas vashalom. And I wouldn't have been sure about odds that high. In a nutshell: chills, fever of 103, cramps, (shhh - this is a whisper) diarrhea, unrelenting nausea, exhaustion. Nausea still. Get the picture? No details; enough said. Although - I wonder if I can keep those seven pounds off?

I missed so much last week! A writer's workshop with a well-known Jewish writer, a workshop on kashrut and hecsharim, a yishuv Chanukah party for all the English speakers, doctor's visits. Time to get back in the swing of things.

A friend I'd met at the dog park in St. Louis reconnected with me last week. She's originally from South America, moved to the US for awhile, and then moved to Toronto when David and I moved to Israel. What a mobile society we have! We actually met through a bit of inadvertent "bageling." One day when I had my dog, Anton, at the park and Deborah was there with her dog, Jake, we began talking (this was about three or four years ago). When I mentioned that Anton liked to pish all around the perimeter of the park, Deborah took the bait on the bagel and we established our Jewish connection. So, Deb - this blog's for you!

I just realized you have absolutely no idea what I meant when I said Deborah and I bageled each other. Please go to aish.com and search for an article called "The Bagel Theory." In a nutshell, the article explains how Jewish souls yearn to connect and so when we meet a fellow Jew and want them to know that we, too, are Jewish (or vice versa), we make a comment or use body language to convey that point. For instance: when I worked at Aish in St. Louis, the bathrooms for the building were upstairs. Once when I was in there, a woman from another office walked in with a dirty air conditioner vent and proceeded to wash it off at one of the faucets. She glanced at me, then looked down and said in a loud voice, "Oy! I don't know how I'll get all this shmutz off this thing. There's so much shmutz on here." That's bageling.

I thought I would get to take the car into Yerushalayim tomorrow for my ophthamologist appointment, but when David got home from work today he said there was a serious problem with the steering. I don't know if I can make that bus trip in if I'm still feeling nauseated tomorrow. And even though rain wasn't predicted (we haven't found any accurate forecasts here), it rained today. I HAVE TO GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE TOMORROW! I've been in this little house for the past ten days (four of them in pajamas...) and I'm beginning to think just being here is poisoning me. Rationally I know there's a squirmy bacteria eating its way through my intestines (I really gross myself out sometimes) (Is that really rational?) (Do I use too many parenthesis?). Maybe NOW you'll believe me when I say I need to get dressed and go somewhere tomorrow!

Living in Israel means:

א) Seeing Arab boys on donkeys by the side of the road, herding goats (or sheep).

ב) having dust and/or sand cover every surface in your house, even if you dust and sweep on a daily basis.

ג) having a car stop suddenly in front of you in the middle of the street, to either pick up people "tremping" or discharging passengers.

ד) not minding a work commute to Tel Aviv from Jerusalem, or from Tel Aviv to Haifa, or from Ramat Beit Shemesh to Jerusalem, or from Beersheva to Tel Aviv, on a daily basis.

ה) having a doctor's appointment on a Sunday night at 7:oo PM, or an MRI at midnight.

ו) sitting in an ulpan class with people from twelve different countries.

ז) seeing a boy with purple spiked hair and a ring in his nose jump off his seat to help a religious woman maneuver her stroller onto the bus.

ח) hearing an entire crowd of people at a bus stop answer "Amen" to someone's bracha.

ט) knowing where twenty falafel shops are within a one kilometer area in Jerusalem.

י) never having to hear or see anything about xmas, but having xmas decorations available at Succot.

כ) walking down the street and seeing people slinging live chickens around their heads on every street corner for a few days in the Fall.

ל) striking up conversations with other English-speakers and ALWAYS either knowing someone they know or having them know or be related to someone you know.

מ) turning on the radio and the only songs in English are from the 50's and 60's.

נ) walking a whole lot more than you used to.

ס) hearing the rooster down the street crow at all hours of the day.

ע) watching a mother be stopped on the street by an older woman telling her either to put a sweater on her child or take a sweater off her child - and thanking her for the advice.

פ) being on a bus taking an alternate route because a child forgot to get off at the right bus stop.

צ) all of the above

I just googled "Only in Israel" and there's an actual website with a whole lot of wonderful stories! Check it out!

I just had to write again. The past couple of days have been some of those "only in Israel" experiences that I want to share.

Last night at 7 PM I had an appointment in Yerushalayim with a pain management specialist. I've had neck and back pain for years, probably from a combination of sitting at a computer for seventeen years, bad posture, and osteoporosis. I've had massages, physical therapy and chiropractic care, so when my doctor suggested this, I thought "why not?" So I got on the 4:20 PM bus into town (David had driven in to work). I absolutely LOVE switching buses and knowing where I'm going! I wasn't exactly sure where the office was, so I gave myself plenty of time to get there. David has ulpan on Monday nights and finishes by 8:30, so we figured we drive home together. It was actually not so cold when the sun went down and I ended up walking from 5:15 until I got to my appointment at 6:45. There were, as usual, a lot of people out on the streets and it was fun to just be part of the crowd. That's not to say I didn't stop at various shops along the way and tried on a few clothes... One of the streets I walked down was Hillel, off King George, where David's ulpan is. I think maybe on one of our previous trips to Israel as tourists we might have walked on part of that street, but it was so beautiful! There were a lot of restaurants, bars, chic little clothing stores, coffee shops - even a tatto parlor!

They took me into my appointment early, and I had over an hour to wait for David, so I meandered through some side streets and ended up on Ben Yehuda, a long and popular outdoor pedestrian mall. I figured I'd be safer sitting still for awhile rather then doing any shopping, so I headed to the Koursin for a bowl of hot 'n sour soup. As I was walking towards the (small) restaurant, a policeman started yelling at me. Okay, ready for the first "only in Israel" story? I looked around and realized that there were lots of policeman herding hundreds of people (mostly kids) away from the spot I was standing on. I ducked into the restaurant, ordered my soup and then took it to one of the outside tables that was enclosed by glass. As I looked around, I realized that the entire area outside had totally cleared of people. A policeman saw me through the glass and waved his arms to motion that I should move to the inside part of the restaurant. There was one other English-speaking family in the restaurant at the time (young couple with a toddler, and parents obviously visiting from the states), and together with the two girls who worked there, we all crowded at the door to watch the robot in the middle of the street head for a plastic bag sitting by the side of a stone sculpture. We watched as it circled around and then took pictures (X rays?). After a few minutes, the robot lifted the bag in the air as hundreds of people watched from the windows of nearby shops. Then it flipped the bag upside down, and out dropped what looked like - a tablecloth wrapped in plastic. There were cheers as policemen converged to get the bag and tablecloth and put it in an official vehicle, and within seconds there were people everywhere once again. It was interesting to see all the tourists and yeshiva boys crowding around the robot with their camera phones taking pictures!

This morning I had to be back in Har Nof at 8:35 AM for another appointment. This is the other yearly event for us "mature" women where sadistic people in white coats make you take off all your clothes from the waist up in a freezing room, after which they position your body in positions that they must have learned from contortionists. Then they flatten certain female body parts in a vise while you stand on your toes trying not to writhe in pain - at which point they tell you, "Oh, looks like the computer isn't ready yet. Hang on; it'll just be a minute."

I know - you're thinking, "But Vickie, that happens in chutz l'aretz too." So, okay, that was just the background, that wasn't part of the story. Here it comes.

David and I drove in together this morning and then I took two buses from Har Hotzvim (free parking!). I took the #11 up Yehezkel and then switched to the #15 in Geulah because it got me closer to my appointment than the 11 would have. I had never taken the 15 and it was a newer bus and not so crowded. As we headed up Malachi Yisrael, I realized that the bus driver had an Elvis Presley tape playing, and boy, was he enjoying himself! He was whistling and clapping and dancing in his seat - I don't think I've ever seen a happier bus driver! I have to admit, that's the first time I've heard Elvis in Israel!

Fast forward a couple of hours. I've already had my mammogram but I'm now sitting in the "back" waiting room for the second part of the exam. (This clinic is very popular because they're very thorough and have the best equipment. They do an ultrasound with every exam, and they tell you up front to expect to be there for about three hours.) Anyway, I was reading the book I'd brought with me when I looked up and saw an older woman (much older than me) getting a neck massage by another woman. After a few minutes, the massagee got up and moved to another chair and the massager asked, "Who's next?" By this time, everyone in the room was watching with interest, and after the second woman got up, I rushed over to take her place. It turned out the massager (and pretty much everyone else in the room) spoke English, so I told her about my appointment with the pain management specialist the night before and how he had suggested that I get some massages. She said, "See how Hashem takes care of us?" When I asked her if she worked for the clinic, she just laughed and said, "No. I'm a patient, too. I'm also a massage therapist and I was bored just sitting here, so you're all helping me pass the time." I was flabbergasted! We all thought it was a perk provided by the clinic, and she was just doing it out of the goodness of her heart! She must have worked on five or six of us before they called her name.

Okay, those are my stories. I could tell you that Penina and Miryam came over this afternoon for a couple of hours of mahj, but that's probably not as exciting for you as it is for us. Although - the last time we played, I mahjed on the 75 cent hand which is the hardest one on the card. If you're not a mahj player that means nothing to you, but if you ARE a mahj player, you know what I'm sayin'.

And tonight I surprised David with a really great dinner. I was so proud of myself! (I have to admit, I like being a homemaker for the first time in my life...) We still have leftover turkey and today I decided to make a turkey pot pie - from scratch. I made two pie crusts which turned out much better than the ones I made for the pies last week. There's no parve cream of mushroom soup in this country (that I've found), so I enlisted the help of Vanessa who works at the makolet and speaks fairly good English. She found me a cream sauce and read the directions to me. Then I found a bag of mixed veggies - not just plain 'ole peas and carrots, but peas and carrots with corn and green beans and potatoes. I seasoned it with parsley and oregano and basil, and it looked and tasted יפה (be-yoo-ti-ful); just like a pro! Perhaps you're thinking that I'm tooting my horn a little too loudly. The truth is that most of the time I'm my own worst critic. This is one of the few times that I actually think the end product really did turn out well. Ask my husband - he had two helpings!

I just spent about half an hour reading the recent posts on my blog. It's difficult to remember what I've written or even when I've written (it's actually difficult to remember what I did an hour ago or what I said five minutes ago, but we won't get into that right now).

It's actually sunny and hopefully will continue to be so all week. After so many months of sun and warm weather, fall finally arrived with cloudy skies, wind, and temperatures between 15-20 degrees (that's Celcius in case you were shivering as you read that). We've also had enough rain to keep our yard muddy for the past week. Emma's so funny; she knows when she comes in from outside I'm going to grab her and wash her paws in the sink, so she just stands there when I open the door, hoping I'll back up enough for her to rush by me. I've had to resort to holding treats out, but she doesn't fall for that any more. Now we just have a standoff, with me closing the door in her face a few times, and even then I have to let her come all the way in and close the door before I try to grab her. She, of course, runs for the couch (light beige in color) and by the time I get to her she's run the length of it before jumping off, leaving a trail of muddy paw prints. It's going to be a long winter.

You're probably wondering what Israeli Americans do at Thanksgiving time. I would have to say that everyone does things differently but I actually have very good memories of Thanksgiving and enjoy celebrating it. We joined forces with our friends, and had a Thanksgiving feast on Friday night. Miryam made the turkey (rather well, I might add), Penina made the stuffing and green bean casserole, and I made the candied sweet potatoes and a deep dish apple pie, pumpkin pie, ice cream pie, and the whipped cream. Oh yeah, and I opened a can of cranberry sauce. There were ten of us, and even though we were extremely crowded in our dining room, we all had a great time. I read a great article from aish.com called "It's my Party" about being thankful for what we have, and not feeling entitled to have anything. We sang lots of zemiros; Penina's family have great voices, and it was very uplifting.

I planned to go into Yerushalayim this afternoon to meet up with a friend's husband and stepson visiting from St. Louis (looking into yeshivot), but he never answered his cell phone. I have to go into town tomorrow and again on Tuesday, so I'm not so disappointed. Tonight is my ulpan class. Did I tell you about that? Four of us (all women) are learning with an Israeli woman at my house one night a week. Unfortunately, we're all at very different levels so the teacher has her work cut out for her. I've actually been surprised at how much I remember from ulpan last year, or have learned throughout this past year. I really think new olim shouldn't take ulpan until they've been in the country for at least six months. After you've heard Ivrit spoken a lot, and you get used to hearing it, learning it gets a whole lot easier. Right now we're just going over the basics, but we want her to teach us conversational Hebrew so we can talk to the people at the post office, the grocery store, the bus station, and things we need in our everyday lives. B'seder?

Let's see, what else is new?

Penina's daughter, Rachel, who's going to seminary in Bayit Vegan, told us Friday night of another "only in Israel" story. She related that she and some friends were at a bus stop near their school when they struck up a conversation with a young mother. The woman invited them all to Seudat Shlishi that week! I told about a time when I was at a crowded bus stop when a very pregnant woman walked up and people made room for her to sit on the bench. The woman then started searching through her backpack and finally pulled out an apple. She held the fruit out in front of her and very deliberately, enunciating every word, made the blessing ha'adamah. Everyone said "Amen." It was so beautiful! And then, last Wednesday (in the pouring rain) I had to go into Yerushalayim for a doctor's appointment. Afterwards I got on the #11 bus (the seats were drenched) to go to Givat Shaul where I went shopping at the Cheaper Kol. This is a grocery store that has a lot of American products. I was looking for mandarin oranges, chow mein noodles, canned pumpkin, and cranberry sauce. While there, another woman heard me on the phone with my friend, Lisa, who was trying to direct me to the correct aisle where the chow mein noodles were located. She helped me find several products that I was looking for. Before I went to check out, I thanked her for her help and we began playing the Jewish Geography game. It turns out I know her mother-in-law, who is a big supporter of Aish St. Louis, and I had even seen her mother-in-law when I was in St. Louis in August (she lives in El Paso but was in St. Louis for the same bat mitzvah I had attended). She ended up inviting David and I for Shabbos whenever we wanted, and we exchanged phone numbers. I LOVE being part of a world-wide extended family where everybody knows somebody you know!

Some people call it "luck" or "fate" or "coincidence." People with faith call it Hashgacha Pratis (Divine Providence). All would probably agree that it's "being in the right place at the right time."

So, first, some background.

David has really been going through some angst lately, trying to figure out his life. He's been working for almost ten months now, without any clear cut goals. Before we made aliyah David told me several times that he didn't want to stay in the field of IT (Information Technology) when we got here. But once we got here and he began looking for work, he realized that in order for us to stay afloat it only made sense to work in the field he had experience in. So many people are finding it hard to find any kind of work at all. We were blessed that he found a job so quickly - except that he had the attitude that since it wasn't what he wanted, he was going to be unhappy. In his mind he felt that, once again, his job was taking over his life and he was resentful. There was commuting time and then 9 hour work days. Add to that ulpan two nights a week, and then studying for ulpan class on other nights. Two nights a week is learning by phone with a chavrusa (study partner). And when was down time? Or time with his wife (that would be me)? And between the time he gets home at night and the time he has for sleeping there's a lot to cram in, so sleep gets sacrificed. When you get up at 4:30 AM but don't make it to bed until 11 or 11:30 at night on a consistent basis, you tend to get grumpy and dissatisfied.

So David decided to talk to me about it last night at dinner; I had actually cooked and we sat down to eat our meal together. He told me about his frustrations and anxieties. I knew he'd been upset and unhappy; now I understood why. You see, David is a computer person. He needs to compartmentalize his life - everything fits in a specific slot and needs to be dealt with separately. He's slow about certain things, but only because he's sorting it all out in his mind; almost 100% of the time the end result is a perfect answer (which sometimes drives me crazy because how can you live with a person who always knows everything? Not that it doesn't occasionally {or usually} come in handy...).

Anyway, the conclusion he came to after much thought is that he has to concentrate on just one thing and do that thing to the best of his ability instead of trying to spread himself so thin that he can't be good at anything. He's decided that he's going to change his attitude. Of course he'd like to make learning Torah his #1 priority but right now, since he's not yet retired and has to make a parnassah, he's going to be the guy at work who volunteers for extra projects, who contributes during staff meetings, who goes the extra mile. He wants to show the company what his talents are and show them what his vast experience can offer them. Until now he deliberately has just laid back and not been part of the team, and he hasn't felt very good about that. In order to go from being a consultant who just works at Intel, he's going for the blue badge - which means that he's going to show Intel that they need to hire him directly and promote him according to his talents.

Ulpan is part of that. In order to get ahead he's got to learn the language, so he's going to concentrate (for now) on ulpan and work. He'll still learn with his chavrusa and whatever he can do on Shabbat, but our tzedakah money will have to support other people's Torah learning for now.

So this morning he woke up with a new attitude and a new purpose. We had a bris to go to this morning in Yerushalayim, right down the street from where David works. It was for the new grandson of friends of ours from Ramat Beit Shemesh, Tzvi and Tobi. Tzvi is the one who almost hired me to work for him at Aish, but he just doesn't have the money in the budget right now to pay a new person (a pretty repetitive theme for a not-for-profit). Anyway, it was mostly family and friends of the couple who had the baby, but I found myself sitting next to a woman at the seuda (festive meal) who was very sweet. She lives in Ramat Shlomo, her husband works at Aish, and of course we knew people in common, yada yada yada. You know how it goes. Then she asked what my husband does. I answered, "What does he do now or what is he capable of doing?" I explained that he was a software tester but that back in the states he designed computer networks for large companies. She became thoughtful and then said, "I have a friend whose husband works at XXX (don't want to give out too much info yet and jump the gun, but it's a nice company right around the corner from where David currently works) and I think they're looking for people right now." Then she asked for my cell phone and called her friend, Karen, and put me on the phone. It seems Karen's husband's computer company is conducting interviews right now for senior managers. They want people with experience, not these young people right out of college. It's also a great place (so says Karen) for religious people; the cafeteria is kosher with a good hechsher and they have daily minyamin (prayer services) in the building. Karen said even if her husband's department didn't need David's specific skill sets, he could steer him to a another department that could use him. She gave me her husband's phone numbers and email address, and said she would tell him to expect a call and an email with David's resume. WOW!

Does Hashem listen to us or what? Now that David finally made up his mind to change his attitude, it feels like Hashem is saying, "I've been waiting for you. Just walk though the door."

***********************

It's now late evening. David called Yisroel, but the position he was looking to fill in his department was in an area that David is not qualified for. He still told David to send him his CV and he would forward it to other applicable departments in the company. Oh, well. David and I talked about it tonight and we decided that we're just happy he has a job. I played mahj with two friends this afternoon (first time in a LONG time), and neither one of their families are doing well financially. One woman has four kids and her husband still hasn't found work after 11 months here; they're scraping together meals from donated canned goods and pasta. The other woman related that the electric company was on the verge of turning off their power. Another family in Ramat Beit Shemesh we're close with have been here over two years and they've both just done odd jobs to bring in some money. We are SO blessed. Now we're just trying to figure out what we can do to help without being intrusive.

At least now David has some perspective; he said going to work today with a changed attitude made all the difference. Baruch Hashem!

{printed with permission from subject}

I had an interesting? strange? experience this afternoon. It shouldn't really have meant anything, after living in this country over a year already, but it was a first for me.

We live side by side with Arabs. To leave our yishuv and head to Yerushalayim, or pretty much anywhere, we share the road with inhabitants of many other settlements on all the various hilltops surrounding us. Some of those settlements are Jewish and some are Arab. The grocery store where Miryam and I shop once a week always has Arab shoppers, although they've gotten stricter about not letting in non-Israeli Arabs. Today I had a doctor appointment in Pisgat Ze'ev, the most northeastern suburb of Yerushalyim, and the first part of the city we drive into from our yishuv. Our kupat (HMO) has a large office there and it's the easiest place to make appointments.

Many physicians are located in the various kupat's clinics. One waits in a chair outside the specific doctor's office one is waiting to see and when a patient comes out, three or four people will try to rush in at once, knocking everyone else out of the way, in order to be next. Okay, that was a slight exaggeration. Actually, posted outside each office door is a schedule of appointments for that day, so people always politely ask each other what time their appointment is and wait very calmly until it's their turn. Hah! Gotcha on that one, too! Actually, the truth is somewhere in the middle of those two scenarios on any given day at any given office.

So today I was waiting to be seen for that once-a-year-unless-you're-pregnant really fun exam (NOT). You know, with the doctor who only sees female patients? when an Arab family came over and sat down next to me. I've never exactly been that close to a Semetic person who wasn't a Jew before.

The family consisted of a young couple with a toddler. They were both wearing jeans and stylish tennis shoes, although the wife, who sat down in the chair right next to me (we were elbow to elbow), had her head covered. The father sat across from us while he played with the baby. I literally didn't know what to think or do. My first impulse was to get up and move to another seat. But I didn't. I watched the Abba hold his son's hand and walk slowly with him across the room and back. Then he held him on his lap and bounced him while the child laughed. They looked like any normal, happy family. Then the baby, a beautiful child, turned towards me, smiled, and waved with his fingers opening and closing as babies do. I couldn't help but smile back at him. And I wondered, do his parents hate Jews? Will they teach this child to hate or to love? Will he grow up confused to be a citizen in a land that has a different G-d from the one he'll be taught is the true one? How old will he be when he learns about evil and terror and fear? Will he be part of it, or will he try to foster peace between his people and the other people they live among? Or will he be part of the majority who do nothing, who will live his life hoping he won't have to get involved?

I never met his parents' eyes. The door opened, and I went in to my appointment.

I can hardly believe it's the end of October - we have been Israelis for sixteen months already! Time has gone by so fast.

So far we've had one rainfall since May. It was actually a week or so ago. The rain didn't last very long, but it was a whopper of a storm. For several hours we had spectacular thunder and lightning; thank G-d Emma doesn't get scared, although she did seem a little nervous. My friend, Ellen, called from Ramat Beit Shemesh and said they were getting the same kind of weather. When the rain finally came, it only lasted about fifteen minutes and it came down really hard. We, of course, need the rain but the downside is that our entire yard - on all four sides of our house - is just dirt. Needless to say, we had to rinse Emma off in the sink after she went out. By the next morning, the mud had already dried to dirt, so we obviously didn't get enough water to make a difference. Hopefully it rained more up north where we need it the most.

So, we thought going to the dentist was being very responsible, but it's ending up costing us mucho kesef (am I allowed to mix Spanish with Hebrew?). David had to get three preventive fillings while I needed one, plus a crown that was put in just before we moved here has to be replaced. I am not happy with our dentist in St. Louis! And of course, we both needed a cleaning. Our new dentist, Dr. Mike, is from England but he's lived in Israel for a long time.

It was interesting taking the bus to his office in Rehavia. I never knew where it was before and it's so easy to get to on the #32. And I finally saw where the windmill is that you can see from the Jaffa Gate! We really love our new bus passes. I seem to be in Yerushalayim pretty often and it's so much fun to get on and off different busses. Sometimes I'll get on a different bus than I'm used to to get to a destination, and almost always it's a long, circuitous route. It's not so bad riding the city busses if I don't have to be somewhere at a certain time because I get to know different parts of the city. I just don't like the inter-city busses so much which is weird because they're supposedly more comfortable.

Lately I've been pondering the meaning of life. How often do we seem to do that? For me, it happens every time something changes in my life, or something happens to people in my life. After events leading up to what I wrote in my last blog, I've been spending a whole lot of time speaking with Hashem, probably more than I ever have in my life. Even though I know better, I've been trying to orchestrate mine and other's lives when I should have known better. WE ARE NOT IN CONTROL. I've said those words, I've even said it to others, but I don't think I really believed them until now. When people (we'll keep that term general) confide in me or tell me things that are wrong in their lives, all I do is try to fix it. Who do I think I am? Why do I think I know anything? All they're asking for is for someone to listen, to empathize, to say, "I hear you." 12-step programs have a pithy saying, "Let go and let G-d." Intellectually I know that, but I've never been able to do it. Now it's something I want to try to remember and make a conscious effort to do. I've seen Hashem's hand; I know that ultimately, He's the fixer - and He sure knows more about what's going on than I do!

So I daven. A lot. I'm lighting candles for forty days for my loved one while reciting a prayer and some tehillim. We donated money to a yeshiva so someone will daven for him at the kotel for forty days. It's all in Hashem's hands now. And I know that whatever happens, it's for the best because that's what He wants for us. And I trust Him.

I'm going to write in black today; it's that kind of day.

Since this isn't really a diary, and people read this blog (surprisingly) from points all around the world, there are times when I can't write what I really want to say. But there are things I NEED to say so I'm going to try without being specific.

Let me just say first that I, personally, am doing fine. Still grateful for all the many blessings I have in my life: a husband who loves me, a more than adequate place to live, an income, food to eat, clothes to wear, relatively good health, two sons, a sweet puppy, friends who care about me, extended family members who mean a lot to me, the miracle of being able to live in Eretz Yisrael - I could go on and on. Hashem has literally showered me with blessings.

But my heart is bleeding. For the past three days my body has felt weighted down with fear and sadness, and the tears keep flowing. I understand that there has to be suffering in this world; that Hashem gives us challenges to help us grow and make us stronger. But I feel so helpless! I'm 6000 miles away from someone I love who is so desperately, devastatingly in pain - and there's absolutely nothing I can do to help. This person doesn't understand that there's a Heavenly Father who cares about him, who wants him to make better choices, who's there to help if he just says, "Please help me." He's drowning, he's lost, and he doesn't know how to reach out. It's not my hand that can help him, as much as I want to. We are all so seemingly alone on this earth. Even with friends and family, ultimately the only relationship that has any meaning is the one we have with our Creator. And there are so many people out there who don't even know they have that lifeline, even some who scorn it. Please, Hashem, make a miracle! Show him how to ask for help. Help him make the right choice. Help him live.

Okay, I give up. Hashem is messing with my mind and doing a darn good job!

This afternoon I decided to take the bus into Pisgat Ze'ev and get some prescriptions refilled. I checked the bus schedule and saw that the #179, which only comes 2 or 3 times a day, was scheduled to come at 2:05. The #179 actually turns down the street where the pharmacy is (not that I would have had to walk very far if I'd taken the regular #143). I headed out and had already walked to the end of my street when I remembered that the pharmacy is closed in the afternoon and doesn't open again until 4. Since I didn't want to spend an hour and a half with nothing to do but shop (Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!) I came back home. "Okay," I thought. "Time to tackle the bathroom."

I took all the shampoos and soaps out of the bath tub and lathered it up with cleanser. Then I grabbed the shower hose, turned on the water, aimed and - nothing. Just a little trickle of water that petered out after a couple of seconds. I tried all the other faucets - nada. Then I called Miryam across the street and Nava two doors down; they have have water. Only I don't have water.

Okay, Hashem. Please stop chuckling and --

Wow! He listened to me! As I was writing I heard a voice from above calling, "Try it now." It was Shaya's voice and he was standing in the street by our water meter. Someone had apparently turned the water off on the meter. I had already been up there, with David on my cell telling me which lever to move, and I hadn't been able to budge it. It was nice of Shaya to come over and check on it for me. Guess that means I should go rinse out the tub sometime soon.

If I hurry now, I can catch the 15:35 bus (yes, that's absolutely right; we not only get to figure out kilograms instead of pounds, and meters instead of miles, but we have to figure out this whole 24 hour time thing - does Hashem have any idea what He's doing to me? Does anyone who knows me believe that I am in any way, shape or form math-oriented? As if trying to learn how to read, speak, write and understand an entirely new language isn't hard enough. And as long as we're on the subject - does anyone out there in cyberspace have any idea whatsoever how complicated SHMITTA is?! You can't even begin to comprehend all the plastic bags I have in my kitchen for peeled kadosh veggies. You can't just throw away even a tiny part of any vegetable - and eventually fruits and flowers and wine and oil and G-d knows what else - that's grown during shmitta; there are so many laws governing it, it's not even funny. And, anyway, let's just say it isn't even shmitta year {which, of course, it is} and it's just a regular day and you're in the grocery store and you want to buy something, and there's, like, a MILLION different hechsharim you have to decipher and know who holds by whom, and of course, that can change daily, so -- Did I get off the subject?) Hmmm. It looks like it's too late to catch the 3:35 bus...

Please don't think I'm being negative! You just have to know that when you get here (and you will), as awesome as it is, there are many challenges. Not problems, mind you - just challenges. We're definitely up to the challenge, else we would have been long gone. Okay, yes, we kvetch; it's in our nature (that's a very big collective "we"). The thing is, over here you see up front the difference between, let's say, buying something with the wrong hechsher and having to throw it away, and having your family go to the local pizza parlor and being blown up. BIG difference.

Guess what David and I did last week? We were spontaneous! Yep, we sure were. Are you as surprised as we were?

At 4:30 PM (okay, fine - at 16:30) my husband called me last Thursday and asked, "What are you doing? Hop on a bus and come meet me in town." My first inclination was to say no. I hadn't been feeling well, and it just seemed like a big deal to figure out when the next bus would arrive, check my clothes and snood to make sure I looked presentable, and then have to walk down to the bus stop. Plus David had committed to helping a friend take down his sukkah that night. When we hung up I realized that he sounded disappointed. And I thought, "Really, why not?"

So I called our friend, who immediately said when he heard my voice, "Oh, please tell David I don't need his help; I took the sukkah down already." Then I freshened up and got down to the bus stop in time for the 5:00 bus. When I called David he was very excited. We ended up meeting at the takanah merkazit (after he parked somewhere in Geula and took a bus) where we both purchased, for the first time, our chofshi chodishi, the monthly bus pass that will enable us to ride any Egged bus almost anywhere in the country. After four months of waiting for our ID cards, they finally came last week, so we were able to purchase the special bus pass. For only 147NIS a month, that's an unbelievable bargain.

With our new bus pass in hand, we headed down to Ben Yehuda where we ate dinner at - you guessed it - Cafe Rimon. But it was my husband's night, so we ate on the meat side. It turned out that because it was Rosh Chodesh (new Hebrew month), the restaurant did all kinds of special things. There was a four piece jazz band made up of some very young yeshiva bochurim (students) who were excellent. They also gave out roses to all the ladies, and there was free dessert (did they have to put coconut in the chocolate? Yuck!). We also spent the entire meal speaking with the guy who was sitting alone at the table next to ours. I wasn't even sure he was Jewish, but he apparently was, and was in town for his daughter's upcoming nuptials. He was from Montreal but had recently moved to Cancun, has 5 kids, 2 are frum and living in Yerushalayim, one of his ex-wives lives in the Old City and is Rumanian, and we learned about all his business ventures. He was actually very interesting and we enjoyed sharing our meal with him. There was just something about sitting outside under the stars with a nice breeze, fabulous food (delectable livers and mushrooms in wine sauce) and enjoyable company in the holy city of Yerushalayim that made the evening special.

After dinner we headed down to Geulah. I was surprised that David wanted to walk around, since his knee had been hurting since Simchat Torah. I shouldn't have been surprised when we ended up a furniture store where there just happened to be a shtender that my husband had been looking at for the last several months. It was the kind of adjustable shtender that you can use sitting or standing, and when sitting there's a place to rest your feet. Again, my first inclination was to say no because we're supposed to be cutting out all the gashmius (materialism) in our lives and because our income isn't sufficient for all the money we spend each month. But. I mean - BUT. This evening was for him and I needed to give a little, so I told the saleswoman we wanted it. It made David happy and I don't do that as often as I should. The hard part was carrying it to the car! We were blocks away and the shtender was too large to take on a bus, so we walked. Personally, I enjoyed the walk and loved seeing some of the side streets of Geulah I'd never seen before. It was probably too far for David to have walked with his knee as painful as it was, but I think it was worth it for him to have gotten that shtender.

Tomorrow we both have dentist appointments; first time since we moved here. Then I guess I'm staying in Yerushalayim (I'll take my Tehillim and head to the kotel) because I have another doctor appointment in Givat Shaul at 3:15. At least I'll be walking and I need the exercise, although with my new bus pass I can get on any bus I want for as long or as short a ride as I want, and can switch buses without having to pay anything. I can't wait!

What a week! What a month! What a year!

Sukkot has been AWESOME. David took off the whole week, so we had lots of time to do things. Let's see; where to start?

First night. There were twelve of us in our sukkah. The chili turned out to be just a little too spicy for some of our guests, but I thought David did a great job. (Which is a good thing because there was so much we ate it for many days after...) Our sukkah was in front of our house and right underneath the metal stairs of our upstairs neighbors. They had family staying with them for the chag (holiday) and all we heard were the clump, clump, clump and bang, bang, bang of people going up and down the stairs, plus all the kids screaming and crying. It was a little disconcerting but not enough to ruin the evening. Actually, when we stood outside and saw all the sukkahs up and down the street, some up on balconies, some in the yards and even some in the driveways, it was a pretty satisfying sight. There's just no way to describe how wonderful it is to live among ALL JEWS and hear everyone celebrating every Yom Tov and Shabbat together. What a blessing! When one of the families we invited started singing, we were transfixed; the entire family has beautiful voices. I hope our neighbors enjoyed the serenade as much as we did!

The next day we went down to Penina and Pinchas', along with Rachel and her family, and Miriam and Shaya. Their minhag is to have a Thanksgiving meal in the sukkah instead of celebrating it in November, so we had turkey with all the fixings. The day turned out to be really hot, plus their dude (hot water heater) was leaking all over the sukkah, so it was -- interesting. But it's always more fun when it's interesting! There's no such thing as boring in Eretz Yisrael! After lunch we decided that it would be a little more comfortable to play mah jongg inside (although truth be told - anywhere you set up a mah jongg game is comfortable!).

The following day was no longer a Yom Tov for us, as opposed to all of you out there in chutz l'aretz, and we could relax and not have to eat two more huge meals. Of course it was erev Shabbat, so I still spent most of the day in the kitchen cleaning and cooking. We had Nava and Yaakov and their twins for dinner, along with Miriam and Shaya. Those boys are a handful! I admire Nava for her courage; she met her husband after making aliyah at age 50 and it was a first marriage for both and they wanted kids. So here they are at 55 and 58 with
two very active and cute four-year-olds. And yet, all evening I kept thinking, Baruch Hashem it's her and not me! It was nice getting to know them better; I'm hoping we see more of each other.

For Shabbos lunch we ate at Dov and Lisa's, our friends formerly from St. Louis. Their sukkah was HUGE. They had another young couple over as well; he's an attorney formerly from the states and she's originally from France but moved to Israel with her family when she was twelve. It's so interesting to meet new people and hear their stories. We ended up staying until very late in the afternoon so instead of heading over to Penina's to play mahj, I just went home to see what Emma was up to.

On Sunday we decided to head into Ramat Beit Shemesh, at least to start. There is a very slight possibility that Intel could send David to England for some training (very slight) and he has yet to get his Israeli passport. We know where the misrad hapanim is in Beit Shemesh and thought we could go there first and then visit some friends. Silly us! If you live(d) in Israel you'd know the fallacy of that thinking. Government offices aren't open during Chol Hamoed! They're not even always open during posted hours if they don't feel like it! So after getting stuck in lots of traffic to get there and finding the office closed, we went to visit our friends, Ellen and Kalmon. I've seen Ellen a few times since we've moved, but David hasn't seen Kalmon. They were both home and we sat and visited for about an hour. It was so nice to see old friends! I miss living there!

After we left we decided to call Yocheved and Chanoch who we also haven't seen since moving to Kochav Yaakov. Yitzy, the baby, got so big! The whole family sat out in the sukkah with us, and even Yocheved's father, Stan, came over for awhile. It's always nice to be with friends who "knew you when." If you haven't read my previous posts, they made aliyah from St. Louis three summers ago, so we know a lot of the same people.

After leaving there, David was ready to call it a day. Except -- we drove up hwy 38 after leaving RBS and then turned onto a very narrow road (it was actually labelled a highway on the map) which turned out to be a beautiful, scenic route back home. Some parts of the road were so narrow that when a car came from the opposite direction we all had to slow down as we passed. The road twisted and turned around gorgeous, green hills, and the surrounding hills and valleys were just spectacular. We even passed a stables where a lot of frum people were waiting to go horsebackriding! I love going off the beaten track to go exploring. Someday I'd like to take that road again, but check out some of the historical sites along the way.

The next day I wrongly assumed David would want to stay home and putter around his office. Instead we drove down to Gush Etzion to deliver a wedding present to Eliezer and Sarah Rose whose wedding we had attended in June. We had to drive through Yerushalayim which was a traffic nightmare - everyone and their uncle was driving through town. The exciting part was that we (okay, David) knew which alternate roads to take as the city is becoming more familiar to us (yes, me too!). Of course, since pretty much all the roads were full of cars, it was still slow going. When we finally got south of the city, we were again awed by the beauty of the hills and forests and communities on top of the hills. We were enchanted by the young couple's caravan (Israeli term for trailer) in their yeshivashe yishuv and by their obvious happiness. They gave us some ideas of places to visit (a winery, a cave, the Path of the Patriarchs), but since it was mid-afternoon by this time we decided to try out the dairy restaurant nearby.

Picture this: you are in the middle of nowhere. There's a dirt road with a sign pointing the way to the restaurant. You drive down the dirt road, twisting around curves, passing a few people here and there having picnics. All of a sudden you come around a curve and see the building - with about 100 cars parked out front! There's a huge sukkah which looked pretty crowded. The restaurant overlooks a gorgeous mountain view; you can see the entire city of Beitar a few hills over. But then you walk up the stairs and the maitre d' asks if you have a reservation. A reservation? But we're in the middle of nowhere! There's a couple in front of us who also don't have a reservation and they take it upon themselves to tell the maitre d' that we'll share a table if need be. It seems that Hadar and Moshe made aliyah from Chicago 36 years previously. We end up sitting together and it's quite an experience - Hadar is a very tell-it-like-it-is in-your-face kind of person and Moshe is a saint. We thoroughly enjoyed the experience!

That ended our tiyul (outing) for the day. Poor Emma didn't like staying at home all by her lonesome, but David and I definitely enjoyed spending time together and sightseeing some beautiful areas of our new country.

The next night we had guests again in our sukkah. Although it's nice not to have two days of Yom Tov like we did in chutz l'aretz, it's kind of sad to spend so much time putting our sukkah together and then not having so many guests to share it with. Unlike just about everyone else on the yishuv, we don't sleep in ours. We did, of course, eat our meals in there and even kept a cushy chair for our princess to lounge in while we ate. Other than that, Emma wasn't allowed in the sukkah. She seems to think that the rocky area in our front yard is her own private litter box and we decided it was time to disavow her of that notion.

So that brings us up to our last day of Yom Tov, which was last night and today, our combination Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah. After David went to Chabad last night, I walked down to Lisa's, and she and I and Chanita "shul-hopped." For those of you who don't know, Simchat Torah, along with Purim, are the two "fun" holidays of the year. Both at night and again the next day there are seven hakafot (basically, pleas to Hashem to listen to us and grant us blessings). The men dance with the Torahs around the shul before the Torah reading; depending on whatever criteria the rabbi has for the length of each hakafot, it can go on for hours. Fathers carry their children on their shoulders, and many of the children carry stuffed or arts-and-craftsy Torahs that they made in school. It's a big party atmosphere.

The first place we went was the Ashkenasi shul which I've been wanting to go to since we got here. It's where we would normally be davening if the place was bigger. Unfortunately, the shul is in a bomb shelter and it's wall-to-wall people. I was pleasantly surprised at all the women (maybe four or five) that I knew there and it was nice to be able to talk to people. By the time we got there they were already on the sixth hakafot and I thought we should make a beeline for Chabad where our husbands were. But Lisa wanted to stop somewhere else first. I'm not sure what kind of shul this second one was, but it was actually a shul that a Rav built onto his house. There were well over hundred people gathered in the cul-de-sac outside the shul. Men were singing and dancing on one side of the mechitza (divider) while girls were dancing on the other. Lisa introduced me to the Rebbetzin and some of the other women but we didn't stay too long before heading over to Chabad.

We needn't have hurried. It seemed they had stopped in the middle of davening to have a kiddush - which included a few bottles of vodka. When they finally started the hakafot all the other shuls had finished long before. Penina was hosting 17 seminary girls (her daughter's seminary) at their house for 3 days and we joined the girls in dancing outside. I left before the davening was over so I could heat up our dinner. By the time David got home, his knee was really hurting. Every time he had tried to sit down during the dancing someone would grab him and make him continue. They didn't understand that his knee is still recuperating. The walk home was really hard for him, but the little bit of vodka he'd drunk probably helped alleviate the pain somewhat.

I hadn't really cooked us much for lunch today so I made a pot of bean soup before heading to shul this morning. David thought yizkor would be around 11 so I was hurrying to daven up to Torah reading and finish my cooking. On my way to Chabad at a few minutes before 11 I passed neighbors who were already coming home from the Ashkenasi shul. When I got to Chabad they were just sitting down to a kiddush lunch: gefilte fish, salads and cholent. They didn't even go back in to start the hakafot until 12:30! After the hakafot was the Torah reading and on Simchat Torah every male in shul over bar mitzvah age gets an aliyah. After all that is yizkor. I made two new friends with English speaking women and stayed until almost two when I finally went home. Before Yom Tov I had told Rachel to come by this afternoon and we'd get Miriam to come play mahj with us, so I wanted to get home before she got there. Thank G-d I did because she knocked on the door five minutes after I got home. She laughed when she saw that not only hadn't we eaten lunch yet but that David probably wouldn't even be home for at least another hour. Instead of playing we just sat and talked. Finally I had to finish davening so she left. David didn't get home until 4:30 this afternoon! He was exhausted and in quite a bit of pain. They had davened mincha before going home and he had told the rabbi not to expect him back for maariv. We enjoyed our soup and chicken shnitzel in the little time before Yom Tov ended.

So that's been our past week. Tomorrow, of course, I'll be cooking for Shabbat. We're home by ourselves tomorrow night and then we have company for lunch. When we first moved to Kochav Yaakov in June a few people invited us for Shabbat, but now the only time we're with other people is when we invite them. I don't mind at all but we've decided that the time has come to really start cutting back on our expenses. We've been like kids in a candy shop the past year and that has to come to an end; the money just isn't there any more.

It's getting late and I'm having trouble focusing, but there are so many spiritual things that have been happening lately that I want to share. Right now it's too hard to put it into words; I'm going to have to give it some thought so I can say it in a way that will make it understandable. Probably won't get back to this until after Shabbat. Until then!

I love this time of year! In my past life (you know, before last July...) it was the changing colors of autumn that really got me, but here - oh my G-d - the sounds of hammers and drills late into the night, people dragging palm fronds across streets, etrog stands on every corner - it's so awesome!!

Rosh Hashanah was enjoyable, Yom Kippur was breathless, and now Sukkot is only two days away. David drove to work today, so when he got home I jumped in the car to run a few errands. First I stopped at our makolet (small grocery here on the yishuv) for some fresh vegetables. Shmitta started on Rosh Hashanah and I'm all fahmished trying to figure it all out. Our friend, Dov, said he wasn't sure if we could buy veggies at the grocery store I usually go to but that the veggies at the makolet were otzar beit din. So here's what I understand although it's probably not totally accurate: Otzar beit din is when the farmers make their farms ownerless, then the rabbaim hire the owners to work on the farms. They get a set salary, and since the farms are ownerless, anyone can help themselves to the produce. Heter makeira is when the farmers actually sell their land to the Arabs (or anyone other than Jews). Vegetables with the bodatz hechsher, one of the "highest" levels to look for, are vegetables bought from either Arabs or chutz l'aretz. So that means that Jewish farmers are totally out of luck during shmitta.

So, after the makolet I raced to Sha'ar Binyomin, the little shopping area at the bottom of the hill (maybe a couple of miles from the yishuv). I was afraid the stores there would already be closing, but silly me! Two nights before a major chag (holiday) they apparently stay open pretty late. First I went to the health food store to get a certain flour for my challah. This store has mostly spices. I've been looking everywhere for dry mustard and also for chili powder. The owner said he'd never been asked for chili powder before but I was the fourth person to ask within the last week so he's going to order some. In case some of you were wondering - the Lecy minhag lives on. Yes, we WILL be serving chili dogs for the first night of Sukkot! Long and not very interesting story how that minhag (tradition) came to be, and stranger still that we've continued it, but a minhag is a minhag, after all.

Next door to the health food store is a hardware store, which in Israel means they sell just about anything and everything. I got two sleeves of large plastic cups (the only place I've ever found in this country to sell anything bigger than 6 oz.) and 3 meters of thick clear plastic to put over my Sukkot tablecloth (which our good friends, Albert and Shifra, bought us on their Disney cruise some years back).

And then I walked down to the lower parking lot to the grocery store. What a balagan! The grocery carts outside had all been moved to make room for the lulav and etrog sales. People were milling around, shmoozing, checking things out, shopping. As I drove home in the dark, I enjoyed the almost-full moon in a cloudless, starry sky and the lights of several communities atop all the various hills on every side of me. I love it here! I love this time of year! I actually live in Eretz Yisrael! I am so blessed; sometimes it just seems unimaginable.

And then I got home and there was David (with his faithful helper, Emma) working on our sukkah. After analyzing every corner of our yard, my husband realized the perfect spot. It's in our front "yard" (if, indeed, one would actually use that term to describe that spot). He's using two existing stone walls that make up part of the fence that circles our yard, and since you have to walk down six or seven steps to get to our yard, the walls are pretty high. Later this evening we heard that someone was selling palm fronds up on the main street of the yishuv so we hopped in our car and went down to get some. The boys who were working there put them in through the trunk which opens up into the back seat. We moved the front passenger seat up as far as it would go, but the branches were very long and hung down on the street behind the car. David drove home slowly. He, being the stubborn - oops, I mean independent - person he is refused help from neighbors (actually, wives were volunteering their husbands, but I'm sure they would have helped) and all by his lonesome threw the palm fronds on top of the sukkah onto the beams he'd placed there earlier. It was awesome! For the first time, we have a real, authentic sukkah! And even better, it's put together two whole days before Sukkot! Pictures will be posted sometime in the future.

So now that the sukkah is up, I can breathe a sigh of relief, although not for the same reason as David. What it means, of course, is that he will now be free on Wednesday to make the chili. You see, David is secretly a really good cook. I say secretly because he's always telling me all the things he's made in the past (read: before we married over nine years ago...) and all the things he's GOING to make (for which he buys ingredients in preparation...). But there are two things I know he can make really well because he has actually really made them during the past nine years, and one of them is chili. (The other is stir-fry but I won't get my hopes up on that one because they don't sell half the ingredients here that he uses for it). So now I only have to worry about boiling the hot dogs in beer (real all-beef hot dogs which are almost impossible to find here and real Michelob Genuine Draft - is life perfect or what?) and putting all the sukkah decorations up and cleaning the house and making challah and cooking the rest of the meal - I love it! I love all the preparation! I love the anticipation!

David took off all of Chol Hamoed (the middle days of the 8 day holiday), and after tomorrow he'll have eleven days off work. Hopefully we'll figure out some fun things to do that won't be expensive because we never get to do fun things and we don't have any money. Well, I get to do fun things but David hasn't had much time off so it will be nice that we can do some things together. Now that we have a car, I'd love to take some day trips to places we've not seen yet - and that's just about everywhere outside of Yerushalayim.

I had to call the vet to come out yesterday for poor Emma. The pads on her back paws, which should have been black, were pink and she couldn't stop licking them. Dr. Doni thought it sounded like some kind of contact dermatitis. He's only come to see her once but she apparently remembered him because when he came through the gate with his two suitcases (medications and supplies for home visits), she freaked out. I thought she was going to scratch me to pieces and I could barely hold her. He hadn't even touched her yet! We thought it best to muzzle her because she snapped at him the last time he was here. After he gave her a shot of cortisone and I put her down, Emma just circled around the dining room table while we talked. Then she went to the door to be let out and oh, what a mistake that was. As soon as I let her out, she just stood outside the screen and barked and barked and barked until Dr. Doni left. Even then I couldn't quiet her. When I finally got her back in the house, she stood staring at the front door, growling every few seconds. Somehow I don't think she'll ever let him come back again which is too bad because she's due for shots in a couple of months. I'm not looking forward to that!

I didn't realize it had been so long since I last wrote. Lately I've been getting ready for Rosh Hashanah; actually, mostly worrying that I'm not doing enough to get ready for the new year.

I quit working at my transcription job. It wasn't the right job for me. It seems I need a job with more structure rather than just waiting day by day for a job to show up in my inbox and then never being able to plan activities in case something was due right away. After the chagim (holidays), I'll make a concerted effort to start looking for something better. Unfortunately, we can't afford for me NOT to work even though I have no problem staying busy 24/7 without a job. Kids are back in school and everybody's back to a routine, and I've come to the conclusion lately that I actually would enjoy getting back to going to work every day.

On Shabbos it hit me that even though we love living where we do, it's basically a community of families. There are no couples our age to socialize and share Shabbos meals with, and I've really been missing the community we left in Ramat Beit Shemesh. We have a three-day Yom Tov (holiday) coming up, and none of my friends will be here to share it with. Families with kids don't like going out for the night meals because they start so late. We invited our upstairs neighbors (they're young, French, and have three little kids) for Shabbos lunch, and I just invited another family for another lunch. This second family has two older kids in the states and three still at home, plus the husband is in computers, so hopefully we'll have a nice time. I know Rachel through Penina, and we taught her how to play mah jongg. Miryam and Shaya are going to sleep at Penina's the whole Yom Tov, and we'll probably go there for a couple of the night meals. I walked there Shabbos afternoon to play mahj before going to the late afternoon shiur (talk by one of the rabbi's wives), and walking back up the hill was HARD. There were hills in RBS, but nothing like this hill we live on. SInce I've been sitting at my computer the last few months transcribing, and also since we've had a car, and also since we now have a yard and Emma doesn't need to be walked four times a day - I have totally stopped walking and am now terribly out of shape. Someone at the shiur told me that she and a friend used to walk down to the main street and then walk all the way up to the top of hill every morning for exercise. Now that it's cooled off tremendously, I think I need to make a concerted effort to do that every day. Isn't this the time of year for new year's resolutions? And, hmmm, doesn't everyone make the resolution that they're going to get in shape?

As much as I'd like to commit to doing that, I know there are so many other ways I need to think about "getting in shape" for the new year. Like, how am I improving my middos (character traits)? How much chesed am I doing? How much time am I wasting every day? What efforts am I putting into being a better wife, a better friend, a better person? There are so many improvements I need to make and lately I've been so sluggish about doing everything. I'm leaving in about half an hour to go to the kotel (the Western or Wailing Wall). It's been months since I've been there, and I have so much to talk to Hashem about. Living here on the yishuv, all I really need to do is go to the end of my street and look all around me, and Hashem is right here. But there's something about going to that holy site in the Old City of Yerushalayim, surrounded by other yidden (Jews) that makes it really special to daven (pray) there. If I time it just right, and get on all the right buses, I can get to David's office right when he's ready to go home and we can drive home together (he took the car this morning).

שנת בראות טובה ושנת שלום A healthy year and a peaceful year!

Shabbos was so nice this week (and last week, and the week before...). Miryam called me Friday morning to say she'd just found out that our street was having a "block party" for Seudat Shlishli (the third meal of Shabbat), and that I needed to contribute some salads and a dessert. Oh, wait - let me start with Friday night.

David and I went to the Ashkenasi shul's rabbi's house. We'd been there a few weeks ago. The rabbi used to be the chavruso of someone we knew from St. Louis, and he and his wife and father-in-law (and married son, daughter-in-law and grandson who live in Beitar) were staying here in Kochav Yaakov with them for Shabbat, so they invited us as well. It was a great time; Mordechai and Jonathan go way back and had a lot of private jokes. We really like the rabbi's wife, Chanie, and it was great to see Jonathan's wife, Chanie, and her father, Perry, as well. David walked over the next morning to take Perry to Chabad; they used to daven together in St. Louis.

Our friends, Howard and Lisa, came with their kids for lunch, so Emma had a great time. She loves to lick Hudi and Chanita all over and run around with them in the yard. Miryam and Shaya came also. Unfortunately, it was in the mid-nineties and HOT. We had all the fans going at full speed and I froze a lot of ice before Shabbat. I made a fruit soup which I don't normally do, but it was kind of refreshing on a hot day. I also did something I'd seen Ellen do in Ramat Beit Shemesh; instead of cholent, I bought a huge rolled roast (I have no idea what it was other than a #17) and cooked it in the crock pot with just onions, garlic and onion soup mix. The smell Friday night and Shabbat morning was heavenly!

Around 5:15 PM David took two of our folding tables up to the street and I followed with potato salad, crunchy cole slaw, homemade chocolate chip cookies, and a few other odds and ends from lunch. Just about everyone on the street came. David went and got Shaya and Miryam's new puppy, Coco (not the same one from RBS) to play in the yard with Emma. A lot of the kids congregated in front of our fence to watch the dogs play. Everyone put their food on a couple of tables and then everyone just helped themselves. I met a new friend who lives a few doors down and across the street. Her name is Ilanit and she's a speech therapist. Her English is only slightly better than my Ivrit. She says she wants to have us for Shabbat, but the rule is that conversation will be in Ivrit and that they'll help us. I was hoping to meet someone like Ilanit! Professor Bashari and his wife kind of organized the whole block party, and he spoke at the beginning - in Ivrit, of course. Then he introduced us as the new kids on the block, and David told a little about us which the professor translated for everyone (unfortunately he didn't translate anything anyone else said for us!). Several people gave dvrei Torah (we just sat and smiled). Professor Bashari apparently has an extensive wine collection and was going from table to table pouring drinks for everyone. When the men all gathered under a street light to daven maariv, Miryam and I went over to sit with Leah, Nava and Julia - the other three English speakers on our street. After davening, someone did havdalah for all of us, and then we all gathered up our stuff and headed home. It was so nice; the feeling on the yishuv is that all of us - the French, Israeli, South Americans, North Americans, English - are one. The yishuv really promotes that feeling of אחדות (unity). I have to admit that I miss how easy it was in Ramat Beit Shemesh, like being able to know what was going on at all the shuls and in the neighborhoods because it was in English. It's so hard not to be able to read our mail or know what's going on. Miryam, Shaya and we were talking about hiring a private ulpan teacher for the four of us and anyone else on the yishuv who needs it. Otherwise, the ulpan is in Yerushalayim, and none of us have any time to go there on a regular basis.

Last Wednesday I got to go somewhere sooooo fun! A friend took me to Rimonim, which is a another yishuv close by. We took the road towards Beit El, but turned to the right almost immediately (from the entrance to the hill leading up to Kochav Yaakov). Then we just drove through the most beautiful countryside you could ever imagine. Everything was stark; we drove around desert hills on a nice highway - I can't even describe the beauty to you. Next time I'll bring my camera. It was a little disconcerting to see white and green license plates on the road with us, especially when there weren't so many vehicles on the road. My friend pointed out that there are many Arab villages and beduoin tent cities in this part of the "Shtakim" (territories), and there was at least one sign commemorating the site where a settler was murdered by Arabs.

Okay, but now the good part. We got to Rimonim in about 15 minutes. They had the most beautiful, refreshing swimming pool! It's the first time this summer I've had a chance to go swimming. There are different hours for men, women, and mixed swimming. We were practically the only women there for the first hour or so. The pool was HUGE and clean and sparkling, and the view from the hill was spectacular. There was a covered children's pool, and all kinds of other recreational activities. It's probably best not to mention that I could barely swim one lap before I thought I would drown, but I did built up my endurance somewhat while I was there. While my friend swam lap after lap (show off!) I did all the water aerobics I could remember from about 20 years ago when I took a class. And I only sat out in the sun for a total of 15 minutes but of course it was enough that I got a slight burn. The Israeli sun is like no other place in the world, and being on the top of a gorgeous hill - the feeling of closeness to Hashem is just overwhelming. Lately I've been stressing over the problems of family members back in chutz l'aretz, but lying out there in the sun and feeling Hashem's warmth enveloping me, all I could do was say, "Thank you, thank you, thank you" over and over. I am so blessed. I just can't believe that He's showered me with so much abundance. So maybe air conditioning would be nice, but I sure wouldn't trade it for living here. Not that I would ever, ever give up living here (b'li neder), unless it could, in some way, help my sons and nieces and nephews be happy, healthy and productive. But that's all in Hashem's hands as well.

David will be home from work any minute. I'd better go get supper going.

These are my kiddies! That's Charles (2) and Zoe (6) in the top pictures, and the bottom one is me with my sons, Nathan (l) and Jared (r). Charles and Zoe belong to Jared. If you want to know the truth, Zoe really belongs to me. When I went to see them on my trip to the states, Zoe wouldn't stop hugging me before I left. She told me, "I miss you, Nana." She knows how to tug on the heartstrings! It was so hard to leave her again. At least I got to see them twice; Nathan and I drove down to see them once each of the two weeks I was there. Jared lives about three hours outside of St. Louis. On the last visit we went to Petco to see all the animals (you name it -- kitties, rodents, snakes, lizards, spiders, birds and fish) and then to Wal-Mart where we got all of Zoe's school supplies and even a dress to wear on her first day of first grade. Then the kids went swimming in their nice-sized wading pool. It was a hundred degrees; I pulled up my skirt a little and got in with them.

The whole time I was in St. Louis the temps hovered around 100 degrees. Nathan's car had no air conditioning, but the friends I was staying by let me use their car -- which used to be my car; they bought it from me a few years back. Sweet! They didn't want Nathan driving it, though, and his car wasn't in the best shape for long distance driving (especially in the heat), so we rented a car the second time we went to see Jared's family. Unfortunately, the rental company called late in the afternoon to see how the car was working out for us. I say unfortunately because they used the number I had given when I registered online for their rental club, which was our St. Louis number that rings at our home in Israel. Which is eight hours ahead of St. Louis time. Which woke David up from a sound sleep when he had to run to the salon in the dark to answer it. Which didn't make him happy.

It wouldn't have been so bad if that had been the only time it happened. On one of the nights I was in St. Louis, I went with my friend, Lori, to the Muny Opera to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. Someone had given her great tickets. I normally don't like musicals (strange, huh?) but it was a great performance, even in the heat. I kept thinking I couldn't forget to call David. I was calling him twice a day while I was in the states so he could share in what I was doing; noon (8 PM his time) and 10 PM (6 AM the next day his time). I called him before the show started, at 8, thinking that was the regular time, and when he answered I immediately started raving about how we got to park right in front of the Muny in the guarantor's lot and how we had box seats and how much fun it was. He finally interrupted me sleepily and asked, "Do you realize it's 4:00 in the morning?" Stunned, I realized what I'd done. "Oh," I said sheepishly. "Never mind."

The flight to St. Louis was pretty uneventful. I had an aisle seat at the end of a section which I had thought would be good because the שירותים (bathrooms) were right behind my seat and I could stand comfortably behind my seat when my tush got tired of sitting, but it seemed the seats in that particular row didn't tilt back except for an inch or two. I knew I had to sleep on the flight because I would be getting into St. Louis (with a quick stop in Atlanta) at 8:05 in the morning. So when they offered wine with the first meal, I drank it along with a couple of Benedryls. Normally I don't sleep at all on planes, but I think I that might have done the trick. I slept about five hours off and on on the 12 1/2 hour flight, which felt great.

The fun thing about the flight was that the plane had state-of-the-art video equipment. On the back of every seat is a personal video screen for the seat behind. It was a touch screen, and the options were tv shows, movies, HBO ($2 a show), music or games. Each one of those options had many, many choices. There were at least 20 different movies on the movie channel, and you could start each one whenever you wanted. You could even pause it. The music station had at least three or four choices in each genre. I fell asleep with slow jazz playing in my headphones.

The big event while I was there was Malky's bat mitzvah. This was a bat mitzvah celebration unparalleled in modern history. It began on Thursday night and ended on Monday morning for all the out of town guests. Malky's parents are Albert, my officer manager at Aish who I worked with for ten years, and Shifra, one of my "best" friends and mahj partner for ten years. Malky is a special girl who makes friends wherever she goes. She told her parents that she wanted ALL her friends at her celebration, and they were happy to comply. You see, as Albert said (what Shifra wrote) on the video they played on Sunday morning, they were told when they adopted their daughter over eleven years ago that Malky had "special needs." What no one knew at the time was how much Malky would flourish with such "special" parents; that the nurturing and love and attention she received from them would truly make her special. Malky knows what a stranger is; she's just never met one. Everyone who's come into her life, from her teachers and aides and classmates to the firemen at the fire stations her Doda Lynda takes her to, to the people who work at the Jewish Community Center, to the many clerks at the mall she visits regularly - is a friend for life. Approximately 200 people came to Malky's kiddush and twice that number came to her carnival celebration the following morning at a downtown hotel. It's equally a tribute to Albert and Shifra as it was to Malky that so many people wanted to be a part of the celebration. I was grateful that I could be there.

(The secondary benefit was that I could see so many people that I wanted to see all at once!)

The third best thing about going "back" to the states (first being seeing my sons/grandchildren and second participating in the bat mitzvah) is that I got to PLAY MAH JONGG WITH MY GROUP. It was so nice for the four of us - Shifra, Lynda, Barb and myself - to play together again. Barb could only play one night the first week because she had to get her father home to South Dakota, but the other three of us played again the second week and the last Shabbos afternoon I was there. It felt so comfortable - and comforting.

The really wierd thing about going back was that it sometimes seemed the previous twelve months hadn't occurred; that I was simply in a time warp where I went to bed one night and when I woke up the next morning all the kids in the community got a whole lot older and bigger! Plus new houses and buildings that were being constructed when I left were suddenly finished. So it was kind of like being in the Twilight Zone, you know? Also, I fit in - but I didn't quite fit in. I just really, really want all my family and friends to move to Israel! That would be really, really cool! Really!

David passed his driving test this morning and he'll get his license within a week. Yea! The process for getting it is so long and drawn out. Hopefully they'll call me soon so I can have my test. It took all of ten minutes, if that long, David said. Oh, I have a great picture I want to post. After I end this post, I'll just add a lot of pictures. I figured out how to upload all the pictures in my camera to the computer (okay, fine - David told me how to do it).

Oh, but don't go away yet; I have to tell you one more story! This is really crazy. Late Sunday night, early Monday morning (2 AM), Emma started licking me and wagging her tail. I just thought, why does she want to go outside now? She never wants to go out in the middle of the night. I just rolled over and went back to sleep. I sort of felt her jump off the bed as I drifted back off. All of a sudden, there was screeching, the likes of which no one should ever have to hear. I thought something weighing 2 tons had fallen on her or else someone had an axe and was chasing her around the house. David and I both jumped out of bed and went running to the salon. David switched on a light, and we saw a cat hunched up against the patio door and Emma hysterically screeching (it's the only word I can think of to describe it) at her. David tried to grab the dog and the cat ran past us - and out the open front door!! Now I always check to make sure the front door's locked before I go to bed; I must have forgotten Sunday night. But for sure it wasn't ajar. That cat must have jumped on the door hand and opened the front door! David thinks it's the cat who used to live here. She had gotten in our trash can and there were chicken bones on the floor. It was pretty wierd. I'm surprised the upstairs neighbors didn't ask us about it the next morning; I thought the whole yishuv must have heard Emma. Baruch Hashem, she may be small but she's a great watch dog!

Okay, I think I can safely end this now. There's more I can say (isn't there always?) but it can wait until the next installation of A Mahjer Makes Aliyah and Has Wierd Experiences in the Holy Land. 'Nuff said.