OLD POSTS

Summing up the routine of the last several months. Reason being, it's all over and it will never happen again. "It's over, it's over!...."

"Every now and then I read various blogs and come away with a sense of inferiority--why don't I have a life, I never do anything or can't, no ideas, no experience, no time, no opportunities, etc. No cat, no dog, no children, no garden-- should be easy, right? Nothing to do but take care of my husband who does quite well taking care of himself, so what am I here for? I constantly wonder that, but I have no doubt that I am supposed to be here, so I guess I just do what I do. And anyway why do I complain when I'm not even interested in doing a lot of the things other people do. I like what I do, as far as it goes.

Well here's today, for what it's worth (this was November actually):

Wake up so hungry I feel almost faint, but after a big cup of super-weak coffee I feel like fixing sweet potatoes for breakfast, which revives me quite a bit. We have worship and Al goes to school, which is a relief because now I can concentrate on getting away on time, have to leave at 8:02 to catch the early bus--why do I need to catch the early bus, not sure. I iron my favorite skirt, which somehow now has three ink stains on it, put it on and realize the elastic is all stretched out so I guess it's ready for the rag bag unless I someday get around to fixing it. So now I go through my wardrobe again, don't want to wear black or brown because I did yesterday (but black goes with everything and brown is so cozy) and I can't decide so I won't make the early bus--I'll plan on planning ahead better after this. The blue skirt works, doesn't need ironing---oh, whoops, I just remembered a homework assignment I didn't do, I'll do half now and half on the bus. Fortunately it's an easy assignment, but now I won't make the middle bus, either. The late bus is just right, really, and I get to class early enough to go up the stairs twice (70 steps each time) for the exercise. They say front-row-sitters never fail, but I'm not currently in danger so I sit in the back to relax.

Some days I wonder if I'll ever learn Hebrew. I guess everybody has those days. An Italian girl in my class, who is usually sweet, kind, and patient, and who speaks Hebrew very well, from my point of view, comes in frustrated one day saying, "I just wish all Israelis would learn Italian!"

At break time I drink a small cappuccino, which always makes me think I feel better, but really it just tastes good, and is one of the few things that consistently does. After break, more verbs--after you think you are starting to get the regular verbs they start on irregular ones, and there are so many you wonder what they mean by "regular." The teachers are good at explaining things, but sometimes when we ask "why" the answer is "it just is."

Once a week I attend a conversation class, which wouldn't be easy for me even if it were in English, but I am slightly comforted by the fact that I can understand what's going on around me, and sometimes can supply a missing word that someone is fumbling for.

After class one day the bus is delayed for almost an hour because there is a breast cancer march going on. Thousands of women and hundreds of men are marching. Everybody just waits patiently. Nobody is even honking his horn, which is practically a miracle.

On the way to the bus I pass a few beggars, some of whom I've seen before, and give my small change to a woman who must be at least 80, and pass up one of the regulars who is looking really bad. Can a person starve to death with hundreds of people around? What is my responsibility? They say that noone needs to beg in Israel but I'm not entirely sure. I watch one old woman sitting on the sidewalk stirring sugar into a coffee that someone bought her. I wish I could sit on the sidewalk, but I sit properly on a bench if I can find one, otherwise I just keep walking.

When I get home I meet the usual dilemma of what to eat and end up with pickles, more sweet potatoes, bread and butter with onions, yogurt, and a carrot.
Time for a nap and I'm just about asleep when the phone rings and it's Al and he thinks he's locked out but he's not but I'm awake now so whatever. I bring in the clothes that I hung out yesterday. It's nice and sunny and the air is a bit cool and I've seen one mosquito in three days and he bit me good.

I look haphazardly at my notes and try to get organized, without success, and somehow the rest of the afternoon passes and then I fix a good supper with tuna and lots of vegetables and we have worship and I try again to study but I'm too sleepy so it's off to bed."

That's how it's been for some time, but today I took the final test for level Gimmel and that's as far as I'm going for now. What I will do with my time I have no idea and I am really worried that I will fall into a deep depression. After all, it's the only logical thing to do.

I know-- I'll write a story. A story about a rabbit and a booh. (A booh resembles a small bear, in case you didn't know.) Was it Frog or Toad that wanted to drink some tea so he made some out of tears? You can get Frog and Toad in Hebrew. They are good stories, but I don't like the artwork. I don't think there's any way you can make frogs and toads look good. Although really, real live ones aren't too bad.