Corona Changed Everything

I am no worrier. I've lived in Israel for a very long time. I have friends. I even have childhood friends who also moved here. I work, I bought an apartment, I did IVF and had a baby, I've been a single mother for almost 12 years. And all this in a language I'm not 100% comfortable with.

I hate the weather in the summer which is far too hot for me, and getting hotter apparently. I hate the national pass-time of hiking in the countryside because I can't see any countryside - only Mediterranean scrub. Otoh, I love it that we live 45 minutes from the Mediterranean. In theory. We're actually not beach lovers.

I love visiting the UK. I love the countryside, I love walking in the countryside. I love London, I love the humour, I love listening to the radio talk shows and understanding all of it. I love dealing with bureaucracy or commerce on the phone or by email because I have full command of the language and all its nuances.

I've always been torn between living here and living in the UK. The more years you expat yourself, the harder it is to go back. The more you have invested in your expat life and the less you have to go back to. However, no one expected covid-19 or that it would change everything. Not just highlighting what I already knew, but bringing up things that I also already knew but had buried deep.

We are far away from close family. It wasn't a problem when a short plane ride was available and traffic went both ways - they came to us and we went to them. But now what happens if I get sick? Who looks after DD? Would you take in a traumatised child who needs to be in quarantine for two weeks and could endanger your own family?

So I'm being over cautious about social distancing. DD came to me last night and said sadly, "Mummy everyone else is out having fun." In theory she's correct. In practice, we both know that we hate that sort of hiking or even picnicking in 34 degree heat sort of "fun". I don't even know what other kind of fun there is in this country in this sort of heat. In past years we went along with friends and endured the heat in order to enjoy the company.

I have a drivers' license but I don't drive here because I don't have a person to call if we break down, get stuck or have an accident. I mean, I have people to call in an emergency but once the emergency bit is over, I still have to deal with all the mechanical and insurance issues. This scares the hell out of me. So we don't have a car and as much as I say it's cheaper to take a taxi any time we want to go anywhere out of town (which it is - I've done the maths) we don't. Our lives are limited.

Our lives are limited, not only by lack of private transport. It's a language thing. I shy away from too much responsibility at work, at school (DD's and mine) and in the community. This is tragic for a natural joiner and organiser.

Finally, as we face DD going into Middle and High School, I feel I'm limiting her education. Her Hebrew has surpassed mine but due to our English lives at home, she doesn't have the language skills necessary to excel. And though I can help her with the material, by looking up the information in English, I can't help her with presenting what she knows. School is half about what you know and half about presenting what you know according to the teachers' requirements.

Maybe covid-19 has turned me into a worrier. Or maybe it has just made me face some difficult truths. Whichever, it has changed everything.

Lockdown Meltdown And Losing The Plot

The almond tree
in the school vegetable garden has blossomed.
We have not blossomed.

Yesterday I got up bright and early and ready to start the lockdown routine. I went to my school to collect all my books. DD had been to her school on Saturday evening to clear out her locker. (Yes, they told us to take EVERYTHING! What does that tell you about the thinking here? Kids were signed out once they had cleared their lockers.)

I didn't go to the bank on the way home because I was carrying a heavy load of books, so that's still to do, but not today.

DD was still in pyjamas when I got home, and watching You Tube. Her bedroom looked like a bomb had hit it with her bed unmade and all her school books everywhere.

I calmly continued with my planned schedule by setting up homework for my school pupils. Then I smugly filled in my Day Book about the morning's activities and went to make lunch. This is where it all started to fall apart.

DD didn't want any lunch and insisted on taking a bag of crisps instead. Later she came back for some cake. I said that I'm not buying any more sugar things because she eats them instead of proper food and it makes her irritable off-the-wall crazy mad. She screamed at me that I was talking rubbish. (She didn't see the irony.) She stomped off, I ate too much to calm my nerves. She hated me. I hated myself. And that was lunch on day 1.

In the afternoon I insisted that we watch a documentary together. We chose one about the history of astrology. She sat on her phone saying that it was boring. I was totally fascinated and spent the rest of the day watching more and more programmes about the link between astrology and religion. Then I fell asleep on the sofa.

DD did do some painting in the afternoon but she refused to enter into the spirit of the day book at all.

Day 2. I vowed to do better. We got up and I got dressed. DD: "Why? It's just a waste of clothes!" I had no answer.

At 09.00 DD had to sign in for school with an emoji on the class whatsapp expressing how she was feeling. They have 'classes' until 12.30 every day with the teachers available on email, whatsapp and phones. The first lesson this morning was English so we were cool.

I had set up a laptop for her on the dining table but luckily today's work was all in notebooks and on the phone. Others are reporting that so many kids are on the educational websites that they're all crashing. Other families are trying to juggle one computer amongst several kids and working at home parents. It's a jungle out there.

Next DD had geography and I had to set up two classes of work online in lieu of my lessons in college tomorrow. DD didn't understand what she had to do and neither did I - 6th grade Hebrew and all. She had a meltdown. I called one of her friends to ask. She screamed at me that I was embarrassing her. Now that I knew what it was about, I wrote down some reasons why we still need to save water despite desalination. She screamed at me that I don't know anything. I burst into tears. I wrote to the class teacher that I don't think we can do this.

Eventually we came up with a good rhyming couplet to encourage saving water and used google to check our Hebrew spelling. Part of the problem was seeing everyone else sending in great jingles. DD crumpled under the double pressure of writing something and then having everyone see it.

DD was finally happy. I had to eat a packet of crisps.

Then came Tenach (Bible Studies). This is not only in Hebrew, it's in biblical Hebrew (think Shakespeare for EFL students) and there's a website involved. We gave up.

I've not done any of my work but I'm exhausted and I've got a headache and I'm still a bit teary and fragile from the whole experience. I'm blogging to get it off my chest and then I'm going to find out more about Noah's Ark, Moses, Mithras, The Budha, Joseph and Jesus all being based on Pagan myths about the sun and the stars.

I'm done for the day, I'm done in, and it's only 11.30 am. We'll try again tomorrow.

Beautiful Numbers - R2BC

02022020

Here are my Reasons 2B Cheerful for this week. The linky seems to have died but then again, linkies were so last decade. 

1
Palindrome Day
The following announcement is for your enjoyment and because I don't want you to miss it.

Today, 02/02/2020, the date is a perfect palindrome using the full eight digits. The last time this happened was in 11/11/1111 over 909 years ago! How cool is that? Very.

From now on there will be a full palindrome in February for anyone outside of the USA, for the next 2 years: 12/02/2021 and 22/02/2022. After that we'll have to wait until 2030 for 03/02/2030 and every 10 ten years for 04/02/2040, etc... until 09/02/2090.

Americans will have to work out their own and actually, they've already had a few this century that don't apply to the rest of the world.

The special thing about today is that it's Full Palindrome Day for everyone, whichever system of Gregorian calendar dates you use. This will not happen for another 100 years on 12/12/2121.

(Thank you to Alina Theodor for correcting me and to Jill Yonassi for pointing out that there are quite a few more full palindrome dates in our lifetimes to look forward to, for non-Americans at least.)

2
Income Tax
Every January you have to fill in an income tax form for your employer. I work for three employers so I have to do it three times. It's not a big deal but ironically, it was less of a deal when you just got the paper and could fill it in. Now you have to have a password, find the form online, download it because you can't fill in a pdf file, and when you've filled it in it's not accepted because your particular circumstances aren't recognised by the computer, and finally you have to sign it. I don't know how to sign on the computer. So I end up printing it out and faxing copies to the various offices instead.

Because I work in three places I also have to get a Tax Coordination form for each employer. Until now I've always taken the bus ride to the tax office and got the forms in my hand there and then. Until recently online applications would still need to be processed and the Tax coordination Forms sent to you by snail mail, taking up to two weeks of anxiety about whether you're actually going to get them.

This year my neighbour told me that it's now an instant an online calculator, You fill in the form (just one form), click on submit and you instantly get all the forms you meed for each employer. And what's really amazing is that you can just email them on. Whilst this news was exhilarating and liberating, it was also giving me butterflies in the pit of my stomach. Remember that I have to do all this in not my native language, a language with a different alphabet and it doesn't even use vowels! For example, stp could be step, stoop, stop, setup situp, shutup, stiff, stuff, staff, setoff, shutoff, shotup, etc... (because s and sh are the same letter and so are p and f). While I was dithering I received all three Tax Coordination forms from the tax office with the notice that if nothing has changed since last year, they will continue with the same agreement.

So that's all the January tax forms done and dusted.

3
End of semester
It's the end of the first semester. I finished writing all my reports and sent them in on time. I wrote my semester summaries for each class. I wrote the mid-year exams for my students and they're ready to give out on Tuesday. I'm up to date with all my grading. We now have four weeks of no teaching at college for mid-semester exam period and break. (I get five weeks because the festival of Purim falls on my college day.) I still have meetings on College days but no teaching. Although I will still be teaching at school.

4
The Tweenager
I wrote a sentence about DD's report. No details, just a general comment. But then I deleted it because.... ya know, she's entitled to her privacy. Like most things, there's no set age by which things have to change. Everyone is different and you know when it's time to make changes. It's a feeling not a number.

I Am Not Prince Harry

A cottage in the country

I'm supposed to be working so all I want to do is blog. Not a good idea because of the need to get work done, but also because all I want to talk about is why I think Prince Harry will be unhappy in North America and why he'll be back in the UK eventually, or even sooner. So if you're fed up with my obsession with Harry and Meghan, please stop reading now.

First you have to understand that it's all about me. Not Harry and me. I've never met the guy in person and he certainly doesn't know who I am. My point is that opinions and advice are usually highly subjective. Meaning, if someone gives you their opinion about what they would do in your place, even if you begged them for it, you have to bear in mind that they are not you.

I learned this when I got a job running teenage camps for three months in Australia back in the summer (their winter) of 1990. It was an amazing experience, though exhausting. I had the time of my life and I was paid for it! Six months later they asked me to go back and do it again in the spring of 1991. I didn't know what to do so I asked around. This is the advice I received.

I had steady employment with a company whose busiest time of year was the spring. So my father, who was always extremely careful, advised me not to go so as not to jeopardize my job. He was fearful of me being unemployed on my return and was thinking of my future.

My Australian friend who had just arrived in Israel for the adventure of her life, said, "You went last year. What do you want to go back again for? It's just more of the same."

A friend who was a professional youth worker and spent his life running camps, clubs, and activities, said, "Why do you want to travel all that way to work? Work hard during the year and save up so that when you want a holiday you can travel on your own terms and your own itinerary."

And my hard working friend who was fed up with her low paying job, had never traveled and dreamed of having the money to do so, said, "Of course you should go! How can you turn down a free trip to Australia?"

In the end I didn't go. I didn't stay in the same job as I soon went back to teaching, and I did regret not going back to Australia a bit. But it wasn't a life changing decision so no harm done. The issue is that everyone gave opinions based on their own situation and desires. None of the advice was about me, it was all about them.

So if I were to write that Harry will miss being close to his large family and that it's sad for Archie not to be brought up with his cousins, I'd be projecting my feelings, as an expat, of living far from my family and that my daughter only sees her grandmother, aunts and uncles and cousins once or twice a year. It would be less painful if Meghan were not estranged from most of her own family.

When I say that he'll miss the English culture it's because I do.

When I think he'll miss his large house in the English countryside, it's because I live in a small flat without a garden in the Middle East desert. I yearn for the rolling green hills, rivers and commons of England. I would love to have even a small cottage in the English countryside.

When I feel that it's sad for him to have to give up on all his military associations that gave him so much pleasure, it's because I also had to compromise my career when I moved to a country with a different language. Different challenge, same result. Well not exactly the same result but also a compromise.

And I've also been in a relationship where my whole personality changed. A situation where after some months of doing only what he wanted, I found that I wasn't at all happy.

In Harry's case, he used to be friendly with the media. Long gone are the days of the paparazzi that he blamed for contributing to his mother's death. Nowadays there is an agreement, a system whereby the royals give photo opportunities at certain times and rites of passage for them and their children. At Christmas, on birthdays, after births, christenings, and first days of school, etc... They smile, they wave, they remain still for the photographers to do their jobs, they answer a few questions in a friendly manner, and then they are left alone. Harry was a favourite because he was always friendly and chatty with the official reporters and photographers. He knew that his job was a team effort.

But Harry and Meghan have not been playing the game. They refused the assigned photographers and only wanted those that they personally invited. They have refused to speak to the media. They refused to pose with Archie until they decided the time. And they kept unnecessary secrets like who his godparents are. All this helped turn the media against them.

It's not how Harry used to be. I don't blame Meghan because Harry is a grown man and can decide for himself how to live his life. In fact, knowing the system better than she does, he should have put his foot down about certain issues of protocol. He should have explained to her how it works and that it's not the same as being a Hollywood celebrity.

I do think he will regret this decision to move away and out of the Royal family, but that's all about me, not him.

The New Year For Diaries And Planners - R2BC

Last year's Diary is still in use until Sept 1st.
I don't know why I still have the year before -
it's being chucked out now.
The new one tempts me. I can look and even caress...
but not write in it. 

Here are my Reasons 2B Cheerful for this week. It was hard to think of anything specific as I've already posted about DD's school prize and the Sound and Light Show on Jerusalem. There is a general cheeriness around here due to the relaxed summer, reduced schedule, and no stress time of year. So here are a few little things. 

1
New Diary Time
I've bought mine. I just have to be patient through the summer until D-day on September 1st.

I was going to write a whole explanation but I've covered this subject before. Bottom line is that everyone only gets one New Year for Diaries, and ours is in the summer. Here's what I wrote about it a few years ago. Nothing has changed.

I followed my own links and found this other post I wrote about the year I created my own bullet journal. I'm a little bit tempted but it's just too much work and the bought diaries work just as well. Especially as they are 15 month diaries. So even though they start on September 1st, they go through till the end of the following December. This leaves loads of superfluous pages on which to paste in collections, lists, and plans.

As we're already on the subject. Here is my love letter to Filofax. It was unrequited.

2
Clear Table
You may have noticed the clear table background on the photo of the diary. This is the first time our dining table has been cleared since stuff started coming home from our combined schools and it becoming our dumping surface. I'm finally getting organized again!

3
A Light Supper
My nephew was in Israel for a short trip and came for supper one evening. I was prepared with a pile of lightbulbs for him to change and we are now bathed in light after sunset once more. Of course I can change a lightbulb myself but I don't like climbing.

This was actually a couple of weeks ago but I wanted to check that the lightbulbs were working properly before mentioning it. 😜

After the light fixture renovations and a light supper (pun intended), we sat down for a card game - a match actually. Kalooky up to 150 points and you can come in once. We were just wrapping up the game and my nephew was getting ready to leave, when he got a phone call. His friends were leaving their hostel and going into town. He went off to start his evening and we went to bed.

Have a great week. The Reasons 2B Cheerful linky is back with Becky on Lakes Single Mum.

Merry Christmas Said Nobody

Here's one enormous Christmas tree we saw in London (Kew Gardens)

The Irony is that I live not more than 10 minutes drive from Bethlehem. I've got used to the working week starting on a Sunday although I can't pretend to like it.

Anyhoo, I will never ever get used to having to go to work on Christmas Day. Never. Even if my celebrations are just watching the telly, including the Queen's speech and a good film or two, and drinking a glass of wine. I just watched the Queen on You Tube but it's not the same after a day at work and work again tomorrow.

I know that many people work on Christmas Day even in the UK, but the workers who have to work, bring the Christmas spirit with them. We flew back from London yesterday on Christmas Eve and the Easyjet cabin crew were all wearing Christmas jumpers. It made me smile.

Then we landed in Tel Aviv, took a shared taxi back to Jerusalem, went to bed by 7 pm as we'd been up since 3 am, and ne'er a thought to Santa, stockings hanging over an open radiator, mince pies or nuffing! I did get a Whatsapp invitation to a carol service but we were already on our way to bed. There is Christmas in Jerusalem but you have to know where to find it and make the effort to go there. It's not everywhere like it is in other places.

This morning it was raining with big gray clouds promising more of the same all day. I went to my religiously Jewish school to teach. I quietly wished one of the other English teachers a Merry Christmas and she took it to be a joke. It was of course a joke, but I wished it weren't.

It was hard leaving all that Christmas festivity behind in London. It's silly really as we had a week of equally festive lights, songs, parties and  presents only the week before for Hanukkah. But going to work on Christmas Day just feels wrong and I don't like it.

Next year I'm doing it! We won't be travelling back from London the day before so I'll have more time to plan it. Of course it'll be a Yuletide celebration with the decorated tree symbolizing the rebirth of nature after the winter solstice, or something. And I might have to take a day off, possibly a sick day. Or maybe we can do it next week for the New Year. Woops, I think I've just blown the sick day option. I'll have to sleep on this one and get back to you.

Meanwhile, I hope you all had a very merry Christmas and made the Yuletide gay, and that from now on your troubles will be on their way. (I didn't make that up, I heard it from Judy Garland during a past and altogether more festive Christmas.)

The Weather, The Wedding, And The Sleepover

Today it was 37 degrees C in Jerusalem. That's 98.6 in old money. The day before it was 36 and tomorrow they are forecasting a blessed relief of only 35 degrees. I hate the heat more than most and we don't have air conditioning in our apartment. So this is how I cope:

I leave home with DD at 8 am. She goes to her Summer School program and I go into my college (both are down the road). I sit in the cool A/Ced teachers' room or in the library, and do my work. Then I collect DD at 1 pm and we come home to basically do nothing until the weather breaks at about 6 pm. That's the thing about Jerusalem, it gets cooler in the evening, unlike in other places in Israel where you can be sweltering in high humidity all night. I guess then you do need to have air conditioning. I'm happy to rest during the day and get up at night.

It's now 11.15 and DD has just gone to sleep as, like me, she's a night owl. We both slept for over an hour in the afternoon so I'm now wide awake. I like this informal chatty style of blogging but I do need to catch up on the events of last week.

The Sunday before last I was invited to a wedding on Kibbutz Shluchot just south of Tiberius and the Sea of Gallilee. To cut a long story short, the groom's little sister had her Bat Mitzva on the Shabbat before the wedding and lots of people joined them for the whole weekend for the double celebration. Most of our mutual friends are close family or close friends with the groom's family so it was going to be hard to find someone driving up to the wedding on the Sunday from Jerusalem. I've also come to the conclusion that sometimes it's easier to just take public transport and be your own boss. I was actually looking forward to travelling on my own without having to entertain DD on the journey.

The bus traveled up the valley road that follows the Jordan River. We left Jerusalem on the east side and drove towards The Dead Sea. Then, with a view of The Dead Sea to our right which I was on the wrong side of the bus to get a photo of, we turned left towards Jericho. Passing the turnoff to the Alemby Bridge Crossing on our right, we continued north towards Bet She'an. The mountains rose out of the dessert landscape and were spectacular in the late afternoon sun. I took photos from the bus like a crazy tourist. I was mesmerized. You know I go for greenery rather than deserts, so I don't quite know what came over me.

Friends (a couple and another friend who also happens to be my brother-in-law who came for the celebrations) had spent the day at a guest house near the kibbutz and they met me from the bus so that I could go back and change at their place. We then went to the wedding together.

There were about a dozen of us who'd been teenage friends back in the UK and had been living in Israel for now 30 years or more. We get all nostalgic and it's as if no time at all has passed. Except that many of them are now passing round photos of their grandchildren on their smartphones. As a young mother myself, I indulge them and they indulge me talking about DD.

After the chupa (literally the wedding canopy) I phoned DD to see how she was getting on at her first sleepover that wasn't at my sister's with her cousins. She gave me a whole speech on the phone about how she doesn't miss me at all and she doesn't know what's happened to her because she's very happy to sleep there.... "and it's not just because I don't have a choice!" Hooray! We have entered a new era. What's more, my friend had her hairwashed and in bed by 9 pm. I must find out how she did that.

I came back south after the wedding in the car with friends and my b-i-l and the two of us stayed overnight with them in their house just outside Jerusalem, coming into Jerusalem for work with them in the morning. Apart from the fact that I had to then spend the day in school teaching, I felt like I'd had a mini holiday. Reconnected and relaxed.

Thanks Sarit for having DD to stay. Thank you Julie and Boaz for taking me and bringing me back and having me to stay overnight. Thanks Jonny and Sari for a wonderful wedding. Mazal Tov to Rebecca on your Bat Mitzva. And Mazal Tov to Ben and Tehilla on your marriage. I hope that in 30 years time you will be celebrating weddings with the same friends you danced with at yours - like we are.

Supermarket Chutzpa

Israelis are known for their chuztpa - loosely translated as blatant cheek.

One very irritating habit that happens here in the supermarket, is parking trolleys at the checkout, albeit at the end of a long queue, and then going back and forth filling them so that by the time they have all they need, they are at the front of the queue to check out. We all forget things as we're queuing and no one minds of you leave your trolley to run back and get that one forgotten item, but I'm talking about almost the whole shop done from the checkout queue.

Another ploy is when two people are shopping together and they stand in two different lines in order to take the position that comes up first. The queues in the supermarket are always a bit of a gamble, like at the airport check-in, you never know if someone ahead of you is going to have a problem and hold everyone up for half an hour. I don't mind that couples stand in two queues as in the end they can only take up one place, I'm just a bit jealous that this is something I can never do.

From archives. I had nowhere near this amount of shopping

Anyway, last week when we didn't have a working fridge at home, I was buying just enough to see us through the weekend before our new fridge arrived on Sunday afternoon. Thus I didn't do the shop while DD was in school on Friday morning, but we went together after school. The place was packed with long queues at all the checkouts except for the express line. There is a clearly visible sign up that says, '10 items or less'. We had about 15 items but some of them were multiples. However compared to the full trolleys in the other queues it was practically nothing.

At that point the express queue was completely empty so I went to it. The cashier looked at my trolley and said, "sorry, only 10 items." I replied, "I'm only buying ten the rest are hers," indicating DD. The woman gave me a stern look. I ignored it. I put 10 things on the conveyor belt. Then I put the remaining things in another pile behind them and gave DD a 100 shekel note (about 20 pounds). I told her, "This is your shopping and you pay for it with this,"

DD was embarrassed but by this time the cashier was laughing. When she'd swiped my club card I handed it to DD for her shopping. The cashier, told me to put it away and she did our whole shop in one transaction.

Sometimes I feel very Israeli.

Carnivale! - Reasons 2B Cheerful

It's Purim this weekend. Basically it's the Jewish Carnivale, Mardi Gras, Shrove Tuesday, etc... Of course we have a religious story to go with it along the lines of: they tried to kill us, we won, let's eat. We have a miracle that we attach to it and traditional food, songs and blessings. Seriously though, it's all about celebrating the spring equinox as it is all over the world and with every religion. (Trust me on this, I've done research.)

The actual day of Purim is Sunday (or Monday in Jerusalem and other walled cities - I forget why.) But today the schools went wild. I was at DD's school this morning. Everyone came dressed up. Even DD agreed to wear a costume of sorts this year (More about that later.)

Vending machines meet Buzz Lightyear

See the princesses in the background?

The most brilliant costume imo

Marge and Homer Simpson

The Principal and the drama teacher

More teachers

Even the adults dressed up

The children exchanged Mishloah Manot - food parcels of nosh that they made and decorated. There was a fair with the children manning the stalls and each class rotating to different venues. There was candyfloss and popcorn and the grand finale was five big bouncy castles on the basketball court.

Then my batteries died and I came home to write this blog.


I'm linking up with Reasons 2B Cheerful over at Mummy from the Heart.

Beyond Filofax (And A Warning For Israelis)

First some background. Choosing and buying a new diary for the year is a spiritual event for me. Around this time of year I start looking out for the new crop in the shops. The Jewish New Year is in September - not the 1st of September but sometime in that month according to the lunar calendar. So conveniently everything starts after the long summer break. Nice and neat. And my birthday is in September so, as a teacher, it's triple neat for me.

Last year I missed it. I was so busy getting DD ready for school and every time I went shopping she was with me so I couldn't browse in comfort. I ended up going to the mall on September 1st when she was back at school and the remaining selection was pitiful. In desperation I bought a week to a double page pocket diary but I never liked the landscape (sideways) layout. I like a book to read like a book. So a month later I bought another week to a double page pocket diary with portrait (upright) layout and its been ok. I mourned the velvety softback diaries in dusky lilac that I'd missed. A few weeks later this particular shop (Chanan in the Hadar Mall) gathered all the leftover diaries from a number of branches and my dream diary was back. But I couldn't bring myself to buy a third diary.

We went to London in December and I dragged DD round the shops looking at Filofaxes and other diaries for 2016. Luckily I saved myself the up to 80 pounds for the most all encompassing, beautifully finished, practically live-in Filofax when I realized that the weekly spread that I like starts on Monday in the UK whereas our weekends are Friday-Saturday and we go back to work on Sunday. The lack of Jewish holidays and National holidays was a minor irritation that I could have overcome easily but starting the new week at the end of each old week was not on. All that browsing for nothing. And you know how much I loved Filofax.

So with all that disappointment last year, I was so excited to see that the new September 2016 - September 2017 diaries are in the local shops already, and we're only halfway through June! This morning I made my pilgrimage to Chanan and with the full array of new diaries before me - I was disappointed.

Warning to all Israelis: Rosh Hashana (Jewish New Year) is late this year, falling on October 2nd. So some of the diaries don't start until October 1st. Others start on September 7th or 11th. WTF? How does that help when all the kids go back to school on September 1st and all activities and arrangements have to be made from that date?

There was a page a day diary where you write your own days and dates. The guy in the shop proudly showed me it and explained how it works. I might look stupid but wasn't too stupid to notice that the full year calendar on the front page was 2014 with two half pages for 2015 and 2016. The shop guy didn't think that was important. Idiot.

There are four options for week to a double page spread with upright layout (although not all of them starting on September 1st):
1. With a complete year chart.
2. With a page for each month with the days in a list.
3. With a month chart set out like a desk calendar with a square for each day.
4. With none of the above.
Is it too much to ask to have all of the above in one diary? Don't they know that people don't just have appointments anymore. We have goals and intentions, we have exercise schedules (well I don't) and food diaries, menu plans, scheduled blog posts, random ideas, lists.... They so don't have a clue.

Yes I know there's nothing in it

The only one that had everything was Filofax of course. But I realized that I've gone beyond Filofax. I don't need a zipped pocket, a place for credit cards, an address book, or those bulky ring binder centers. Sorry Filofax, it's not you it's me.

So I bit the bullet as it were. I bought a plain paper book to make my own bullet journal. For the uninitiated, a bullet journal is a personal diary that you create yourself, with space for all your aims, goals, and lists. Yes I know - far more opportunity to fail but that's half the fun in life, isn't it? For me the perfect diary is going to have a full year chart. Each month on one page with the days listed for planning the year. Before each new month there'll be a month chart and an empty page for shopping lists, menu plans, contact numbers, etc...

There was a dusky lilac softback book but it was a bit too big to fit in my bag and it didn't have enough pages. So I went with the turquoise. I can hardly wait to get my felt tip pens, ruler and pencils out and make a start.

Meetings, Tests And An Expat Mum

Have you ever thought about the disadvantages of school children whose parents don't understand the language that well? I never really thought about it until we became one of those families. And we have the advantage of my being a teacher and that I work in the school system here.

Our parent-teacher meeting in December was a wake-up call for me on a number of levels. I know that DD's Hebrew reading is weak as she only hears, speaks and reads English at home. However, the teacher started talking about having her assessed for learning difficulties. I dismissed this as ridiculous as she can read perfectly well in English.

"Can she read a text and write answers to questions about it?" Asked the teacher. "Um no," I mumbled in reply.

So on one level I realised that we need to practise Hebrew reading at home and that homework has to be more of a learning experience than just a matter of getting it done and out of the way - which had been our attitude to it thus far.

On another level I realised that, like the proverbial cobbler whose children go barefoot, I had been neglecting DD's English skills. She is comfortable reading English on a "Frog and Toad" sort of level but she's 7 years old. If we don't step it up now she might end up with no language in which she can read extensively and express herself in writing, despite being able to speak fluently in two languages.

We started practising Hebrew reading every night as well as English reading and we invited a friend in a similar position to join us once a week for a formal English lesson. The fact that the other child comes to his English lesson with his books and his pencil every week at a set time, gives us the formal structure to do some real work which we never seemed to find time for on our own.

Then last week I was talking to another mother who happened to mention the word list for the spelling test this week. I knew that they had been having spelling tests recently. DD showed me that so far she's got 7/10, 6/13 and a momentous 1/11, which is when she decided to show me. She wasn't overly upset about it but I think she needed an ally. I had sent an email to the teacher asking if there was a word list but got no reply. Turns out they were getting a printed list of words every week but DD had no idea what it was for so she just 'lost' it somewhere.

I'm sure all this information was in an email somewhere but I tend to skim the emails for the letters ש"ב (HW - homework). The emails are in Hebrew and I'm not very good at reading the long, details about what they are learning in school. If they're teaching it I'm happy with it and I assume that my child is learning it.

So this week we made sure we had the list. The test is today. Last night DD copied the list of words out once. Then she tried writing the list under test conditions and got 9/14. So we took notice of the mistakes and tried again. This time she got 13/14. We did it one more time and got 100%. This morning before school she 'took the test' again and got 14/14 again.

I'm on shpilkes waiting to hear how she got on. I just checked her timetable on the fridge and saw that Hebrew isn't until the end of the day. Ooooof, I want it to be over already. I wanted her to get it down while she still remembered. I can hardly wait for 4.30 when I collect her from school.

LOL. If I'm like this now for a spelling test in 2nd Grade, what am I going to be like when the serious exams come round in ten years time?

So Am I Israeli Really?

Yesterday I learned that I am not really an Israeli and I learned that I am half of Israel and I learned that I am Israeli.

It was election day and a bank holiday. For a country that doesn't have Sundays off (we have Fridays off but the children have morning school and everything else closes at 2pm) it was a chance to have a real family day out. It seems the two preferred activities were shopping or hiking/picnicking.

The formidable cave

I wrote last week about how Israelis have an obsession with hiking. I also wrote about how DD hated her class trip which was inevitably a hike.

A group of friends asked us to join them on a hike and picnic. I said I'd have to consult with DD. I was confident that she'd decline and I'd have my out. I love walking in the English countryside where the paths are smooth and the hills are rolling. Here, however, the paths are rocky and the hills are mountains.

Unfortunately DD was all for it. I couldn't deny her the opportunity for a day out with friends and a picnic so I reluctantly agreed to go. I'd also followed the conversation on whatsapp and had seen them come down from a serious mountain climbing expedition to a more  moderate trek. We are a group of five, overweight, middle aged, women - and yet four of them wanted a seriously challenging hike. This is where the immigrant sticks out from the Israelis.

I admit it was pretty at the top (or half way to the top)

Before we went I had to vote. This election was extrememly emotive. People voting for Bibi on the Right felt they had no choice but to put national security first even thought there are gaping social injustices that need fixing and the Left were promising to address these problems.

People on the Left accused the Right of not caring about the poor, infirm, and downtrodden. They also believe that actually, Bibi's security policies are more dangerous than re-entering peace talks with the PA.

There was the issue of the Right aligning themselves with the ultra-orthodox community who contribute nothing to the country but aren't shy about receiving all the benefits going and then demanding more. There was the issue of Bibi himself who doesn't invite people to love him with his arrogance and wanton spending of public money on his own personal comfort.

And there were all the smaller parties some of whom were inspiring but, if they passed the votes threshhold and gained a seat in the government, would have to compromise on all their principles to be included in the ruling coalition so what is the point of voting for them.

I had seen how fiercely my hiking friends 'knew' who you 'should' vote for and who it was 'wrong' to vote for. I decided to keep my ballot a secret. I, along with 20% of voters, were undecided right up to the last minute. I did not need approval or lectures either way. If there was one 100% correct way to go we wouldn't need elections. I made sure DD didn't see which slip I put into the envelope because she can read now and I didn't want her telling them under interrogation by accident.

We packed our lunch and went round to my friend who was driving. She was irritated with me because I had nixed the idea of a joint picnic. She had asked if we should organise a joint picnic and I answered that I'd prefer not to. I don't enjoy eating outside, sitting on the floor so all we need is a sandwich, an apple, and a bottle of water (and a packet of crisps for DD). Two others said, 'ok,' and that was the end of the discussion. I didn't realize I'd cancelled a big part of the overall experience. And then I got told off for not making more of an effort to enjoy hiking. (Those of you who hate brussel sprouts or heavy metal music - just make more of an effort, eh?).

Deceptively gentle

We, five families, met up at Nes Harim just outside Jerusalem. We set off along a rock strewn path. I'm sure the scenery was lovely but I was too busy concentrating on avoiding the rocks and watching my step to appreciate it. This is what you typically hear on an Israeli hiking trail: "Come on sweetie (to a toddler who can barely walk), climb the mountain with Grandma and Grandpa, isn't this fun?"

Then we climbed up a steep(ish) incline to some caves. During the whole ascent all I could think about was that we would have to come down again. I'm fine climbing up. You can't fall up. I am scared climbing down. The children disappeared inside the caves. I was nervous about getting back down the mountain. I was nervous about my daughter being inside a cave (it was only an overhanging rock really but it was dark and I couldn't see her). I admit there was a pretty view.

We stopped to rest, eat, chat, play. Then I saw there was another steep(ish) ascent. I was fine with this but the route was circular and who knew what climbing down the other side looked like. I decided to go back. The others offered to take DD on with them but she opted to come back with me. All the way down she was trying to help me with a steady flow of supportive commentary:

I'll help you Mummy.
You don't have to be scared of rocks, they can't hurt you.
I'll carry the bag.
Just stop thinking about the rocks, think about a nice cup of coffee instead.
I love you Mummy, you're the best.
We're nearly down now so just get those rocks out of your head!
Phew, we're nearly home, aren't you happy about that?

When we got back to the meeting point we found an ice-cream van (one happy daughter). Then we spent two hours eating our picnic, playing word games and on the playground equipment. It was nice. We're good company. And the relief of not worrying about the climb down made me all giggly and dizzy with happiness.

All I could think about was climbing down again

The others eventually arrived. First came the fittest mothers with all the children. About 20 minutes later the other two mothers huffed and puffed to the end. Red faced and sweaty they exclaimed, "it was so much fun, you were so silly to go back. The descent was much more gentle than the ascent."

The hike was a confirming experience for me. It confirmed that I don't enjoy hiking in Israel and I won't be doing it again.

And what of the elections? It turns out that more people are more scared of being killed by terrorists than they are of dying of starvation so Bibi won.

Emotions are still running high. Facebook and emails are flying about how depressed and incredulous the Left are that people don't want change. While the Right answer them that they do want change but they first need to be alive to enjoy social equality. And the Left didn't help themselves by basing their whole campaign on the slogan: Anything but Bibi.

I understand both sides. People have different realities. It's a small country but some people are living under immediate physical threat near the borders whereas others are concentrating on social inequalities. Some are looking at the bigger picture of eventual peace in the region while others need to know that they will be protected tomorrow.

My (secret) vote reflects roughly half of Israel. I hate rock-climbing hikes. Je suis Israeli.

Highlights of the Days

That was the week that was. The week we had our summer holiday, went to a wedding, and got caught in a Colour Red (Red Alert) with rockets firing in from Gaza (not for the first and second times or the third time I've experienced this). Sorry, I took the camera with but never got round to getting it out.

Tuesday 4th June - we traveled down to Kibbutz Alumim in the south of Israel. My highlight of the day was when my friend (who's daughter was getting married on Thursday)'s mother called to say that my friend was sending a car from the kibbutz to collect them and they had room for me and DD. That saved two hours of bus rides shlepping all our luggage and 3kg of frozen salmon. That night was the beginning of the festival of Shavuot (Weeks or Pentecost) brought in with a festive meal.

Wednesday 5th - The festival day itself which involved more festive meals and my highlight of the day, a whisky tasting session after lunch. Three of the men had just returned from a distillery tour in Scotland so we got the full effect with instructions, history and interesting facts. After lunch DD and I spent an afternoon in the air-conditioned library and games building. It was 38 degrees outside so there was no chance of anything outdoors. DD made a couple of friends and was off with them leaving me to read my book in peace.

Thursday 6th - A day out and about on the kibbutz. We went to the playgrounds, visited the cows and watched the milking, ate lunch in the communal dining room, watched them setting up the chupa (wedding canopy) and arranging the flowers outside for the wedding later, and went to the petting zoo. The weather had broken so it was a mere 32 degrees outside. My highlight of the day was when we returned to our friends' house after being out in the heat all day and smelling of the cowsheds. I put DD in the bath and she stayed there and played for over an hour! Meanwhile I showered in the other bathroom, threw our clothes in the wash and..... wait for this..... read my book uninterrupted for almost two chapters!

Thursday evening - Big wedding on the kibbutz. The daughter of another good friend who lives there (the one who sent the car for her parents in Jerusalem) so many old friends converged for the occasion from all over the country. DD was sat at a different table with some of the children she knows so other than setting her up with food from the buffet, I hardly saw her all evening. The DJ played all our old favourites from the last century and we finally rolled home at half past midnight. A really great wedding.

Friday 7th - We went to the beach in Ashkelon. I nearly didn't go as I hate the beach, I never know what to do there. However, DD loved it and if she's happy I'm happy. The sea was rough and no one was allowed in past their knees but knee height is perfect for 5yos. DD (and all the other children) sat just shy of the water and were catapulted up the beach as the waves came in. A row of lifeguards stood as a buffer in case any little ones got carried too far out (and also to stop the older kids from going in despite the warnings) but actually they were all beached each time and had to come running back to sit on the sand and wait for the next wave. Honestly, it was better than any ride at a theme park. Definitely our highlight of the day. We sealed the perfection with an ice-lolly of course.

Friday night - We brought in Shabbat with yet another festive meal with the friends we were staying with. This is where the highlights idea comes from. This family have six children, a daughter-in-law, couple of daughters' boyfriends, and an adopted kibbutz volunteer. Their table is not unlike The Waltons of Walton's Mountain. On Friday night everyone has to say the highlight of their week. DD wanted to say the wedding and the beach but someone had already said the wedding so she couldn't have that one. Clever girl, she said: "OK, in that case I say everything that's happened since we came here."

Saturday 8th - Shabbat lunch in the communal dining room was suddenly interrupted by "COLOUR RED! COLOUR RED!" loudly announced from the speakers on the wall. Everyone jumped up and proceeded quickly to the inner parts of the building away from the windows. Well not everyone. There are those fatalists who choose to ignore it and stay where they are (not usually those with children). You only get 15 seconds and by the time I'd realised what was going on it was all over. I was about to return to my seat when my friend said, "don't sit down Rach, apparently there're more coming." DD had run to the safer room with the other children so I went and joined them. After the 'all clear' we returned to our seats and got on with our meal. Just another day in the life of Southern Israel. In the afternoon, after more whisky tasting, DD and I went for another session in the games building. They have an adult on duty there every shabbat and festival afternoon so that the parents can rest. Next year I expect (hope) she'll be old enough to go by herself but this year I went along with my book and read while she played with the children.

Saturday Night - We got a lift to Netivot and took the bus back to Jerusalem. It's always easier going home on the bus as you've dumped the gifts and you don't care if your clothes crease in the suitcase. I also left my finished book for them to read. Highlight of the day? Too tired to think about it as we crawled into bed at midnight after a lovely holiday.

So You're Going To Be An Expat?

This post is dedicated to Kate of Listography fame, from Kate takes 5. She is about to become an expat. An expat with kids. Always eager to help, I asked my wide circle of expat friends, via fb, to give me their top tips for new expats. As an expat myself of 25 years standing (England to Israel), I identified with everything they said. So here are my (and my friends') top tips for expat success.

1. The centre of your world is where you live. When you change where you live it takes time for your brain to re-centre your world to its new location. You feel disorientated, literally out of place. It can take a good couple of years to feel fully centred again.

To illustrate this, a friend of mine was asked by summer visitors if she was happy after being here for almost a year. She replied that it wasn't about being happy - this was the place they had to be. it was right for her family to be here. A year later those same summer visitors came again and asked if she was happy. She thought for a moment and said: It's a good life. The next year, almost three years after she'd arrived, the same summer visitors said they didn't need to ask. They could see in her face that she was happy.

Of course some people are deliriously happy from the moment they arrive but, as my friend Gilly from Brainstorm says, don't underestimate how long it can take to adjust.

2. It might help to approach the new life as one long holiday adventure but if you are planning to stay for any length of time this won't help you to ultimately feel at home. You don't want to spend your whole life as an outsider. My friend Keren David lived in Amsterdam and befriended a group of expats there. One serial expat gave her the following advice. Approach the place as if you will be spending the rest of your life there. She meant to learn the language, make local friends, get involved in the community. You may intend to stay for only a few years but what if it's extended? You could live for 10 or more years on the fringes of society because you'd put your life on hold for the duration of this 'holiday'.

3. Obviously the first thing is to get the family settled and into their new frameworks of schools and jobs. It's easier if you have a job yourself but, as Gilly said, SAHMs have the hardest time because there is no ready made community network that you are a part of. You need to find something to do that gets you out and about, interacting with the locals and making a life for yourself outside of enabling the other family members to live their lives.

4. Take a crate of whatever comfort food you need - Cadbury's chocolate, English tea, Heinz salad cream, Branston Pickle, cheddar cheese, whatever your favourites are.

5. Book your next trip home so that you have a date to keep you going when you feel homesick. And, as soon as you are settled, invite your closest family and friends to visit. Start booking them in according to how much room you have and how much time you want to give them. Low cost flights mean that most people could manage a long weekend at some point. This will make you feel still connected to home without the cost of actually going there. Do both of these things for the children too. You will only be as happy as your unhappiest child so do whatever it takes to make them happy.

6. On the other hand - don't be a sitting duck for other people's cheap holidays. Your nearest and dearest may be welcome but don't start putting up every friend of a friend for a few days throughout the summer - unless you are running a guesthouse and they are paying.

Slightly less intrusive (but only slightly) you also have to be careful of people holidaying locally who call and say, 'we're staying nearby (this means within 100 miles), can we come and visit?' (This could mean for the day.) You could end up making dinner for guests every other night in the high season. And even if you suggest they meet you at a local eatery, they may think you invited them and you are paying. One friend of mine has drinks on her terrace once a week from 8.30 till 10 pm. She puts out a few nibbles and asks guests to bring a bottle. That's the invitation, take it or leave it.

7. Don't dwell on the differences between here and there. It's not there, it's here and it's not pretending to be there. Focus on the good things. Adapt yourself to the more irritating things. Bureaucracy is burdensome wherever you are and moving countries is full of paperwork and getting connections sorted. Aim to accomplish one thing a day. Get to the office early and take a book to read while you wait. If you accomplish two or more things in one day that's fantastic but don't kill yourself trying. Go with the flow.

8. Find an expat friend or two to advise and help you. Ask them for the names of their plumber, electrician, carpenter, doctor, dentist, language teacher, pool person (if you're lucky enough), car mechanic, hairdresser, etc... Invaluable. Expat friends, especially ones from your home country, can fill the gap of childhood friends - they share your cultural references and collective memory. They can make easy company. As Gilly said, you can make a new life but you can't make a new history to share with friends.

9. Language is the key to everything. If you learn their language the locals will respect you for it and accept you into their communities.

10. Consider the concept of first-year friends. When you arrive you must befriend everyone who's willing to be friendly. You don't know them at all but you need friends and whoever is around gets the job. After a year or so you get to know who your real friends are going to be and who you really connect with. It's a process but first-year friends are essential even if you know very quickly that these are not your soul mates or going to be your forever friends.

11. On the other hand, don't have an affair with a local until you understand the culture better. This is more for singles who might get swept off their feet by some loser and not realise who they are contemplating marrying.

12. Every expat deserves cable television. You can also download, for example, expatshield in order to watch the BBC on your computer.

I'm sure there's more. Thanks to all my friends who contributed their wisdom to this post. And thanks in advance to any expat readers who can add to the list in the comments below.

Have wonderful new life Kate. xxx

#Expatblog - Doing Sponja

The Expat Blog prompt from Tales From Windmill Fields (click on it to see the other entries) was to find one thing that you never used back home but that you use all the time in your new country. I couldn't think of anything except food items and that's been done. So I put the question to my fb friends and there were some interesting suggestions.


1. Solar heating panels. In London we had the boiler on water constant and central heating timed for all the years I sat on the downstairs loo and read the metre. Here we all have solar heated water tanks on the roof. About three times in the winter I have to put the immersion heater on  because it's been cloudy all day. It doesn't have to be hot outside, only a clear sky is necessary. I never think about hot water and I certainly don't pay for it.

2. Drip irrigation. It's an Israeli invention and obviously used here and around the world for crops. But here every garden has the thin brown pipes laid over the flower beds dripping drops of water at regular intervals. And many people even have it threaded through the planters and pots on their balcony. We've gone a bit drip irrigation crazy.

3. Most people have tiled floors throughout; ceramic, marble or stone. This is how everyone cleans the floor. Forget squeegee mops or those old fashioned institutional mops with the special bucket attachments to squeeze out the dirty water.

We have a goomy on a stick which you wrap a wet floor cloth (shmatta) around and mop the floor. After a bit, as the cloth becomes dirty, you wash it in a bucket of soapy water and wring it out. There is a Middle-Eastern technique to this that gets the last drip out, leaving you with a perfectly damp cloth. You re-wrap the goomy and continue mopping the floor. It's called doing sponja.

Nowadays some people have their bedrooms carpetted and, as everywhere, the wooden (or faux-wooden) floor is also trendy. But most of us still have tiles and everyone has the goomy and shmatta. I would say sponja is a national pastime enjoyed by all ages on a weekly basis.

Going Home

The 100 Word challenge is a picture again this week. As an expat torn between two worlds, it evoked all sorts of emotions. I think it was the greenery reflected in the window. After reading you can go and see what it did to the others by clicking on Julia's Place.

Going Home

She always talked about going home. The cottage, a copse, rolling hills, cousins dizzy with happiness and freedom. We slept in the summer house. I'll take you there one of these days.

The children grew up. Three adult fares were out of the question. But she needed to go home.

It wasn't in the depths of the country after all. She found it just past Watford, near the M25. A 1950s semi, quite a big garden with a few trees and a rotting shed - the summer house?

The place was all wrong. But home isn't a place - it's a time.

Expat Wish Lists

This week's X-pat Blog Hop from Tales from Windmill Fields came with very specific instructions. Two lists:

A. What they don't have in this country that I wish they did, and
B. What they do have that I wish they didn't.

A...
1. Proper department stores like John Lewis. The sort of place I enter in London and whisper under my breath, 'everything please.' Of course I can hardly afford to buy anything, but I love walking around, looking, and dreaming...

2. Hard cheeses that don't require taking out an extra mortgage. I once bought a small brick of real cheddar from a local deli. The sort of quantity that would cost about 3.50 in the UK (less in a supermarket with special offers). I paid my 60 shekels without thinking and then almost had a fit on the way home when I realised that I'd handed over more than 10 pounds! All the cheese here is expensive and the sort we call 'yellow cheese' that you slice into a sandwich or grill, is actually semi-hard - like a soft gouda. And even that costs more than 2 shekels a slice (about 35p) in the cheapest packets!

Impressive Eucalyptus

3. The English countryside. Remember learning about Mediterranean scrub in geography lessons? Well a whole country of Med scrub has it's charms with dusky olive trees on the rocky mountains, but it's just not green enough. And even though we have impressively tall Eucalyptus trees (imported from Australia in the 1900s to drain the swamps), I miss the giant oak trees, weeping willows, and cedars of Lebanon (ironically). The sort of trees that Jane Austen might have sat under (although probably not in Harrow) and Robin Hood could have hidden in (ditto about Harrow). Obvioulsy olive trees have their own romance and Jesus himself, Kings David and Solomon, and even the Queen of Sheba probably did sit under some of the olive trees in my neighbourhood. But we each have our own sense of romance...

4. Four distinct seasons. I miss the Autumn and Spring which last for about two weeks each here. Winter in Jerusalem is harsh, not because it's so cold outside, but the houses are not built to withstand the cold and are freezing inside. Also they are not set up for rain and there's not enough drainage. We need rain and we love it, especailly after a relentlessly hot and dry Summer, but it's hard to get around when the roads turn into rivers.

B...
1. The Hebrew language. I can speak it, though not particularly well, and this limits my life. I certainly cannot blog in it. All the promotions and freebies that my British blogger friends enjoy are not applicable to a resident blogging in a foreign language. And my local readership is limited to people who are comfortable reading in English. In 1990 English almost became the third official language in Israel. All phone options offered Hebrew, Arabic, or English, and English media was becoming more popular. Then the iron curtain was drawn and over a million Russians arrived. Now the third option is Russian and the media money goes to maintain whole TV channels in Russian.

2. Hostile neighbours. In many ways Israel is an island. I've heard that Lebanon and Northern Syria are greener but they are not places we can visit. Actually I would prefer to be able to jump on a train and go to Europe. And other disadvantages and dangers....

3. Bad press. I felt this especially when I was seen by an Arab doctor in an Israeli hospital and sharing a hospital room with an Arab lady in the next bed (we looked out for each other). Meanwhile I was reading about Israeli Apartheid in the foreign papers.

4. Lack of consumer choice. Even Trinny and Susannah when they came, said that Israeli women are not bad dressers but there is hardly anything to buy. Truthfully, there is loads to buy but very little choice. That's the difference between a population of 7 million and one of 90 million. Also with other goods, you buy what there is. Added to this, everything is twice as expensive.

What I Didn't Mention: Red Alert!

Across the fields is Gaza

There's something about our wonderful, fun, relaxing, action-packed (well, for a 2yo) holiday on the kibbutz that I didn't mention. The kibbutz where my friends live is very close to the border with Gaza. They each have a reinforced room in their homes and when the Red Alert sounds, they all go and stand in it with the door shut, until the danger is over. I wrote about it here back in April. However, since then the kibbutz has suffered a direct hit which damaged one of the houses. Thankfully no-one was hurt, but only because the owner had gone to the safety of the shelter.

On the way down last week, I asked my hosts, who had picked us up in Jerusalem on their way home, what the policy was now regarding Red Alerts. "We go into the shelter now," was the reply. "What about in the middle of the night?"
"If we hear it we get up. If you're lucky you don't wake up and you miss the whole thing."

All was quiet for the first couple of days. Then, last Thursday, two buses and a family car were fired at by terrorists on the road near Eilat. Eight people died and many more were injured. Families returning from their holidays, soldiers going home for the weekend, men, women and children. We knew that the calm was over.

That evening my friend had to go and prepare rooms for a group of  30 tourists who were coming for the weekend. DD and I went with her and we found that the rooms needed a 'going -over' to make them fit for guests. They weren't dirty but this is the desert and sandy dust is our constant challenge. We each grabbed a wet cloth and, while DD played, we got to work. Almost finished and my friend called me over. "Take DD home, I just got a text warning that we're expecting qassams. I'll catch you up."

I took DD by the hand and started to walk with her back to the house. It was a good five minute walk for an adult walking briskly. DD tried her best to keep up. I just wanted to get her home before the Red Alert. "I know, I'll give you a piggy-back!" I stood her on a bench and hoisted her onto my back. This was her first piggy-back ever. I jogged (sort of) along whilst composing a blog post in my mind: My First Piggy-Back. After a short distance she wasn't comfortable and neither was I. "Walk DD!" She cried. "We'll soon be home," I replied as I tried to go faster. But I couldn't make it all the way and I ended up dragging her along by the hand, her little legs working furiously to keep up with me.

We made it home without incident. Apparently it had been a general warning for the coming hours rather than an immediate warning. That night there was a Red Alert at about 1.30am. I lay in bed and considered scooping a sleeping DD up and running to the shelter. You only have about 20 seconds to get there and by the time I'd finished weighing up the pros and cons of waking her up, it was all over. There was another one, so I'm told, at 5.30am but we slept through it.

The next day the pool was closed in the morning - too traumatic to think of hurrying 50 people out of the water and into the pool shelter within 20 seconds. The group of 30 tourists cancelled. We could have come home but I didn't even consider it. I asked if we could still walk to the dining room for lunch or if we should stay indoors. "You can go but if you're outside during a Red Alert, make yourselves as small as possible and stay away from trees and buildings." No problem.

On Saturday afternoon we were having tea in my friends' house when the Red Alert sounded. "Red Alert," said a few people calmly - as if we couldn't all hear it. We all got up, I picked up DD and carried her, and we walked purposefully to the shelter. The man of the house shut the door and kept a firm hand on the handle. This was absurdly comforting, as if he were taking charge and had some control over the situation - which of course he didn't. It was standing room only and so we stood and discussed how long we should wait. After about a minute and a half we all went back to our tea.