Snow At Last

Maybe an inch. But it looks so nice that it's almost worth getting cold and wet for a minute or two just to look at it. Everything shuts down. Most roads leading in and out of the city are closed. Meetings are canceled. Someone said there are several bags of salt at the corner, but since it's Shabbat, they're just going to sit there.

It really isn't an emergency, one inch of snow. But why not just sit back and take it easy?

Actually not quite as easy as it could be. Can't take a warm shower when the water heater isn't working. And there's no popcorn. But there is a chocolate bar in the fridge. Just in case I get too stressed.

No Popcorn

It's here, whatever it is. Not a snowstorm. High winds for two days, cold air, a couple crashes of thunder, rain/snow (nothing accumulating), and misery.

Who would ever go out on a day like this?

And who could stay home without being miserable.

At the beginning of a storm you appreciate your nice warm house. But soon you fall into gloom. What can you do? Pop popcorn? If I ever get a chance I'll have to get some, to be prepared for the next gloomy day.

It's only 6:40 p.m. and it feels like it's been 9:30 p.m. all day.

Big Snowstorm

Everybody's getting ready just in case. But it may never happen. We have enough groceries, matches and candles. Not much else you can do.

Just discovered that the bedroom windows are in backwards. No wonder Al has been complaining about the room being drafty. That must have happened several months ago when we took the windows out to clean them. Once they are put into the correct slots, there is a latch that helps seal them off.

It's hard to believe it will really snow. But if it does, it will take a way a tiny bit of the monotony.

Food in Israel

And, by the way, the hamburger doesn't smell very beefy while it's cooking. Instead, it slightly resembles chicken. But I'm going to smother it with tomato sauce and add spices, so it doesn't really matter.

Cashews -- $12 a pound. But that's at an average corner store. At a good market you could probably get them for much less. I don't know because I don't get out much.

Lima beans -- I haven't seen any here. They have broad beans and some others, but not limas. And when the menu in a restaurant says green beans, you get red beans. I don't know if they even know what green beans are. But I have tasted some really, really good green (red) bean soup.

Blackened olives -- that's what they're called. So are they black olives? Yes, but no. They look black, but taste green. And not a very good green.

Pickles -- you can get them in salt or in vinegar. Only the vinegar kind tastes right to me.

A quick way to figure prices is to divide by eight. So if it says 20 shekels per kilo, that's $2.50 per pound. I have no clue about pounds or euros.

Tortillas and taco shells. I keep forgetting to look for them. I have never noticed any, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. Maybe they're hiding behind the pita bread.

But you know what the main problem is with food in Israel? There aren't any of my family here to eat it with.

Home Again

Back to Israeli eggs, e.g., STALE. Guess I'll eat them scrambled from now on.

Back to Israeli meat prices. Eight dollars a pound for hamburger.

But anyway, I'm home, which is good.

No Jet Lag

I just realized that I stayed awake for 32 hours straight!! Well, except a half dozen catnaps of 15 minutes or less. I can't remember what I did all that time. Mostly squirm in my seat with pains in one leg and twitches in the other. I took two drinks every time they offered them; but even so, you can get pretty dehydrated on a plane. I heard pieces of a conversation in Spanish, including words like Cuba, Castro, millionaires, billionaires, London, Greece, family, invest, married, earn, learn Spanish, one morning, many times, excuses, Socrates, Hippocrates, students, and "dya know what I mean?" Apparently "dya- know-what-I-mean" is a Spanish word.

I caught glimpses of other passengers' movies, (from a distance with no sound) which got me analyzing camera techniques and stupid plots, and the unrealness of super-heroes, and the non-glory of being one.

I tried to watch an informational video or two, but even there, the camera-work was annoying. If I hadn't been raised on books and developed a longer span of attention, I'm sure my brain would never have developed. I don't get a thrill out of many short close-ups. I always want to see the larger picture, and how everything fits together. Or I need time to examine what I'm looking at, so as to find what I am interested in, rather than receive impressions forced on me in flashes. The only thing I remember from it all is a close-up of water running in a stream, and wondering where the stream came from, where it went, how the rocks in the stream affected the water flow, what kinds of plants grew along the banks, etc. But they don't want you to look closely or think or analyze.

I don't get jet lag. I find it too complicated. So when it's dark I lie in bed in the dark, tossing and turning and maybe sleeping. When it's daylight, if I happen to wake up, I try to keep my eyes open as much as possible, never minding if I feel a little sick, taking short naps if necessary. After all, the sun rules. Body clocks can reset themselves. I'm not in the habit of looking at the clock anyway.

First thing I notice when I walk in the house is the mold smell. It will have to be aired as soon as possible. Next is that the living room light has no shade on it. Al didn't know what happened to it. I remember now--just before I left it melted and cracked and I threw it away. So now there are no shades on any of the lights in the house. They tend to melt or make the bulbs burn out faster. Next thing I notice is that my plants have nearly died, but maybe they'll revive. They're the slow kind--slow to grow, slow to die, so months go by before they change much.

Fortunately my suitcase that got left in Frankfurt arrived today. There is plenty to do. Just ordinary housekeeping-type stuff, but it's my own place, which can make it interesting or satisfying.

Step Two

Exactly three months from an operation on my left foot, I am having the same operation on my right (tomorrow). This is a huge bother. I'd rather get going. Instead I have to sit around two more weeks, hobble around a few more after that. But it's the only possibility of ever getting any better.

Last time I spent quite a while in Mercy's comfortable recliner chair working a large difficult jigsaw puzzle. I'm not in the mood for puzzles now. I'm more in the mood to go somewhere and do something. But that won't happen.

The last several days I have been spinning wool that I saved from our sheep some years ago.  I should soon have enough to make a couple scarves and a large afghan or two.