March

In some respects March is just the same in Israel as in Indiana. There is a feeling of spring in the air, but the reality is COLD. And bits of rain and wind, and it drags on and on, and you wonder if spring will ever come. Actually it's not quite as cold as Indiana, it's just that I have no patience with cold anymore.

Spring is not so dramatic here, but it is spring. Almond trees have been blooming, and sycamore trees are starting to leaf out. I start thinking ahead to all the things I will do as the weather gets better. This is the time of year when I used to like getting seed catalogs and planning a garden.

The wind was high enough one day to blow my three tiny jade plants off the balcony. I found two of them down below and rescued them. Other plants are growing well, except the four Mexican heathers, which I had thought would be easy to grow. They aren't called Mexican heather here, but they're identical to the ones I used to have in Texas.

Purim is this week, and it's a time when people are a bit crazy. You see people dressed in various costumes, which they do for a whole week, both children and adults. I don't ordinarily care for silly stuff; but when the rest of the year is a bit dreary, Purim seems like a good time to break out of the rut. Last year I kept my eyes open for something I could do to celebrate Purim which would be a little bit jolly but still within bounds. One day I saw a middle-age or older woman dressed conservatively, with plain dark colors and a long skirt--but she had a very conspicuous purple feather stuck in her hat! Ever since then I have been wondering where I might find a purple feather like that.

Today I rode my scooter here and there and tried going in stores where there isn't really room. Sometimes there isn't room to turn and I have to back out. Even riding on the sidewalk is tricky, because you never know when a car will be parked on the sidewalk. There are apparently no laws against it, although you have the right to be annoyed if they are in your way. Though actually I am not annoyed--it's just part of the adventure to either squeeze by with an inch on either side or find a new route.

I drove past a few marathon runners. A little girl was sitting on the curb cheering them on. Occasionally she would yell, "If Trump can run, so can you!," which always brought a smile from the runners.

Marathons. Brings back a memory of a nice summer night a few years ago when I ran 90 strides. I thought at the time I would add to it bit by bit until I could run _______. It never happened. I never even got to 91 strides. Today I can run about zero. Sometimes when my coffee doesn't taste quite right I have to debate with myself whether it's worth it to walk a few steps back to the kitchen to fix it, or just drink it as is.