Monday, July 17, 2006


I cried when we left our apartment. Mainly it was leaving my cat, Koshka, that was hard. I left her with a mess of food and "more water than is in the Kineret" according to Adi. I could have taken her with us but I feared that would be more stressful for all of us. Plus leaving her makes it easier for me to believe that we'll be home in no more than a few days. She was in the stairway and Adi had to fetch her, making it even harder. We closed all the windows and fought a little over leaving on the TV. Adi said it would keep away burglers, a known problem during Gulf War I. I feared it would stress out Koshka, since we only get one channel which would be showing nothing but news. To be effective as theif deterent, it would have to be loud. And lately the broadcasts have had an annoying volume modulation problem, bursting suddenly from reasonable to too loud. We settled on the radio which at least sometimes will play music, presumably at a consistent volume.

The Toll on Animals
There were reports from the national Vetrinarian's office yesterday urging owners to check their pets for signs of stress following bombings. One of the victims of Saturday's bombing in Tiberias was a dove. The news cameras captured it, injured, frightened, dirty, and symbolic.

A Correction
Yesterday I said Nasralla called us Nazis after denying the Holaucaust. In fact it was monkey-faced Irainian President who made those incompatible statements.
Nasralla, while sadly alive yesterday to spew his lies, was not flailing his arms as he usually does when speaking. Many analysts take this as a good sign, an indication that he may be injured or partially paralyzed.

Back to Us
Tears still streaming, we loaded up the car and hit the road. Adi tried to comfort me: "You've been after me to spend time with Jeremie and Elah, to get away, here we go! This is just a nice night in a Zimmer." And as we drove, "See, there are people jogging. That's good, Exercise is a good stress reliever. And there's a baby in a stroller... see, everything's fine."
When we reached the Carmel forest and the piney air hit my nostrils, I did feel better. Nature, nature, calming nature. Adi told me bits of the Nibelungenlied adventures he's reading, the German folk tales of Gunter, Sigmund and Zigfried.
"Like Freud?" I asked. Yes, in fact, so popular were German folk hero names amongst German speaking Jews, that the Germans stopped giving them to their kids! Kind of like how the Lawrences and Sheldons of my grandparents generation failed to fool anyone.
Driving along the familar route through the Druze villages of Issifiya and Daliyat Al Carmel (now officially united as "Carmel City") I felt even better.
We passed a kids store called Baby Garden where it turns out we qualify for an employee discount.
"Yes, we can go there," said Adi obligingly. That sounds fun. I've been too exhausted to shop for baby things.

We arrived at J&E's shortly before sunset. The boys went off for a run, the girls for a walk. We talked about our days as normal life continued around us. Families walked barefoot in casual clothes, kids circled around on their bikes and played with walkie talkies. At the end of the settlement, there was a tennis court that had been converted to a soccer field. There was no net, and goal nets were set up at either end. Two kids were practicing their goal shots.
"You see," observed Elah, "You can't use it as a tennis court. Normally you need to be able to run behind the line. But here, they put a fence!" It was true. Oh well.

The door to the communal bomb shelter was unlocked. I took a peek inside. It was dark and musty but big.

I tried to take comfort in interesting plants and houses along the way.
At home, we set to making a nice meal of pasta. Elah diplomatically prepared sauce and tuna separatly, so everyone could doctor his or her pasta as he or she saw fit. For me and Cholent of course, that meant as bland as possible: butter and parm, a combination I don't think I've relished so much since I was a kid.

"We got TONS of food," Ela reassured me when I explained that I'd brought cereal. "I'm a Polish mother, can't help it. Plus Jeremie worried about you because you're pregnant. He told me to get icecream and treats for you." I was touched and happy. :-0

After dinner I took a shower, taking care to use the "STRESS RELIEF" shower gel, inhaling it's fragrance deeply, and believing in it's powers. I joined Jeremie on the porch where he took his evening smoke. We watched the planes take off every few minutes from nearby Ramat David airforce base to the east of us, heading straight north, very fast. We used to enjoy the disco near that base when we were in Ulpan, the Vertigo.
"Well, if their pilots kick ass like their disco does, we're in good hands," I told Jeremie.

1 comment:

Zehava said...

Found a nice description of the Vertigo disco: