Blogging for Hurricane Relief

Blogging for Hurricane Relief

The Truth Laid Bear. Meryl Yourish. Laurence Simon. LGF. Michelle Malkin. Strengthen the Good. Instapundit. And Harrison at The Terriorists, for all the animals displaced by the hurricane.

Each of the above links contains many other links to organizations involved in hurricane relief. I put them at the bottom of my last post. I'm putting them up again, at the top of this one.

A friend of mine who lives here in Israel is originally from New Orleans. She was born and raised there, and still has close family living there.

That is, she had close family living there until a few days ago. They were lucky enough to escape with their lives, but not much else. Now they are in a strange city where they know no one, and they have no home to go back to—unless someone’s thought of a way to live under ten feet of severely polluted water.

My friend’s family and thousands of others in the same situation need our prayers and donations—not necessarily in that order.

To paraphrase the message on another friend’s answering machine: You know what this is. You know what to do.

Click. Donate. Help.

Finding Reasons

Finding Reasons

I’ve come across way too many posts lately that talk about Hurricane Katrina as being punishment for one thing or another—either the “sinful” atmosphere of New Orleans or, even more bizarre, the United States’s role in the disengagement from Gaza.

Forgive me if I’m blunt. I find such “justifications” offensive and disgusting. They make God out to be as bad as the worst of human beings: narrow, petty, vindictive. And the people who peddle this garbage set themselves up as God’s prophets and judges on earth. That’s pretty presumptuous of them, to say the least.

I e-mailed a dear friend of mine today with a sad, tongue-in-cheek observation about Hurricane Katrina: “I guess that’s Mother Nature in a really bad mood.”

To which she replied, sensibly:

Actually, it's mother nature doing what comes naturally, which is punishing men for their inequities—I don't mean moral ones, but the stupid ones like ignoring the fact that NO is below sea level and not building a drainage system.

I have to say that frankly, I wonder whether any drainage system that exists in the world today could have dealt with Katrina’s terrible blow to the Gulf Coast. But in any case, my friend is absolutely right. Not that Mother Nature was consciously punishing anyone—that isn’t what she meant. Simply that what happened was a natural event that we might have been better prepared for. Hurricanes, earthquakes, volcanoes—all these things are part of the world we live in. Today we are fortunate enough to have technology to predict them and ways to prepare for them. It’s up to us to use them in the best way possible. If we don’t, that is our own failure, not divine punishment.

To move this a bit closer to home: Israel sits on a fault line. We live in earthquake country over here, and scientists say we’re due for a big one sooner rather than later. Although we have had plenty of warning in the form of several small earthquakes over the past several years, adherence to building codes is not a strong suit for many contractors here. So whose fault will it be when the substandard buildings collapse in the next big quake? How much sense does it make to blame God for it when we could—and should—be doing something about it right now?

I refer those who would have us believe that Hurricane Katrina—or any form of human suffering, for that matter—is divine punishment to Psalms 115:16: “The heavens belong to God, but the earth he gave over to human beings.”

Meaning that the responsibility for dealing with things like this belongs exclusively to us. Blaming them on God is an abdication of that responsibility. Even worse, it’s a form of giving ourselves permission to sit by and do nothing. After all, if God punished these people, who are we to contradict the Divine Will? Better leave them to their fate.

Feh.

If we want to look for the Hand of God, we will find it by opening our hearts and wallets, and helping the survivors as much as possible.

For a much more eloquent post on this topic, read Elisson: Tikkun Olam.

And for ways to help the survivors, each of the following sites has lots of links to various aid organizations: The Truth Laid Bear. Meryl Yourish. Laurence Simon. LGF. Michelle Malkin. Strengthen the Good. Instapundit. And Harrison at The Terriorists has lots of links to help pets displaced by the hurricane.

Hurricane Relief

Hurricane Relief

LGF has an excellent round-up of where and how to help the victims of Hurricane Katrina. There is additional information in the comments.

A Do-Over

A Do-Over

I just re-did the photographs for one of my recent posts, “This Morning Is for the Birds.” They’re much better now. Go catch it here.

I’m learning.

Jerusalem Wildlife

Jerusalem Wildlife

I had a lot of fun with my camera today after work. (Picasa helped, too.)

Unlike the speaker in Tom Lehrer’s “Hunting Song,” who had to shlep home two game wardens, seven hunters and a cow, I returned from my expedition with pictures of some local Jerusalem fauna: the Palestine sunbird who hangs out in our yard, a parakeet couple and two cats. Here they are.

Mr. Sunbird sips some nectar ...

Who else do you know who can eat lunch upside down?

Ahhh. That hit the spot.

In brief flight. I caught this one by accident.

Later in the day: Almost bedtime for the local Jerusalem parakeet population ...

The parakeet in the tree appears to be the mate of the parakeet in the photograph below. (The sunbird has a mate, too, but I haven’t been able to photograph her yet.) I don’t know what was happening here, but judging from the vocal exchange that went on between them, I’d guess that the parakeet in the tree was saying: “Come on, honey, it’s time to go to sleep,” while its mate, on the building, insisted: “Just a little longer, dear. I’ll be right there, I promise.”

On my way home, a most irresistible tiger took over my lap. I had no choice but to yield ...

Well, all right, he just looks a bit like a tiger. Cute little fellow, isn’t he?

And finally: Her Ladyship snoozing on a convenient stone wall. Ahhh, this is the life ...

I tell you, that cat has it made.

Check out this week’s Friday Ark at The Modulator.

Our Security Guards

Our Security Guards

Another must-read at Treppenwitz: Please take a moment.

Praying for New Orleans

Praying for New Orleans

... and for anyone else in Katrina’s path.

Tree

Tree

This is one of the trees in the front garden.

It’s taller than our building.

Well, It Had to Happen Sometime ...

Well, It Had to Happen Sometime ...

My first de-linking.

I wonder why. On the other hand, maybe it’s better not to know.

Hitchin’ a Ride

Hitchin’ a Ride

Before anyone gets the wrong idea from the picture below, Her Ladyship would like to make sure that we humans have a few things straight. One, she is not a basket case. Two, she is not going to hell in a handbasket.

My friend, Her Ladyship’s human companion, is scrupulous about putting her old newspapers in the recycling bin up the street. She takes the papers outside in a plastic market basket while Her Ladyship waits in the garden. When she returns, Her Ladyship jumps into the empty basket to ride the rest of the way home.

Now that’s what I call devotion.

(Check out the Carnival of the Cats at Annoying Little Twerp this week, and the Friday Ark at The Modulator.)

Good News from the Bus Stop

Good News from the Bus Stop

I was at this major bus hub in Tel Aviv today and saw something that restored my faith in humanity at least a bit. Here’s part of the array of bus stops ...

There’s a kind of guardhouse on the other side. I spotted some plastic dishes under the stairwell. What could they be?

On closer inspection:

Fresh cat food and clean water. Isn’t that lovely?

The Rule of the Velvet Paw

The Rule of the Velvet Paw

Her Ladyship came out to greet me when I came home last night. When I started to pet her, she appeared to be enjoying it and even lay down near me. But when I pressed my hand to the ground to change my position so that I could reach her more easily, she pounced and nipped the back of my hand, drawing blood.

I don’t know why that happened. Usually Her Ladyship lets me know when she’s had enough attention and wants to be left alone, and even if she doesn’t, most of the time I know when to back off. I figure that the way I positioned or moved my hand may have triggered her hunting reflexes, and she went after the “prey” before she could stop herself.

Well, that was last night. This afternoon Her Ladyship came out to see me as I was leaving to go to Tel Aviv. I greeted her and asked if she would like to be petted. She approached and sniffed my feet, and the next thing I knew, she was using my foot as a pillow:

Could this be an expression of reconciliation or perhaps affection? Or is Her Ladyship simply claiming fealty?

The Guest in the Garden

The Guest in the Garden

When I looked down from my terrace this afternoon, this is what I saw:

This orange fellow lives in the building next door. I would like to make friends with him but every time I try he runs away, meowing at the top of his lungs. Once I even found him in the stairwell of my building. The moment we saw each other, he flew down the stairs, a frantic orange blur.

Well, I hope he had a nice rest.

Kitty Drugs Update

Kitty Drugs Update

One of the catnip plants on the terrace ...

... and the new little catnip bed in the front garden.

Yeah, all right. I know I’m growing a weed. But cats like it, and I love cats, so what can I say?

Sad

Sad

Well, I am. There’s no getting around it.

I don’t talk much about my personal life or inner feelings on this blog. There’s a reason for that: I’m a private person, and the Internet is as public as it gets. So I tend to keep the shutters drawn pretty tight. I like my privacy.

Still ... I just came back from shiva at Yonina’s apartment a while ago. I met her daughters and some of her grandchildren, which was great, though of course I can’t help wishing that we might have met under happier circumstances.

I got to share stories about Yonina with her daughters as they showed us some of her photo albums. At one point, when they were discussing her involvement in the folk-music scene, they asked each other where her banjo was. I was glad to be able to tell them. (She gave it to a local banjo player several years back.)

Through it all, there was a persistent feeling of “last.” For example, I found myself thinking: This is the last time I’ll ever see this apartment. This is the last time I’ll ever sit on this chair. And I remembered how often I had sat there when Yonina was alive and we talked for hours while she gave me guidance or one of her wonderful treatments, or while I massaged her feet. This feeling, though sad, wasn’t anything particularly acute or dramatic. It was more like a strong and steady awareness of finality: that for me this was the end of an era, one of the most important of my life.

When Yonina’s healing course began, she told us: “The one thing I am willing to guarantee about this course is that it will change your life. I’m willing to sign to that.” In my case she was absolutely right. I owe her a great deal, and wherever she is, I love her very much.

A Tiny Slice of Current Events

A Tiny Slice of Current Events

Meryl’s got a good read, as usual. Here she tells us why she disagrees with Mark Steyn’s assessment of what will happen after disengagement.

Jerusalem Voice went down south last week to protest the disengagement. Here is an account of her experiences.

And here are two columns by Naomi Ragen about her friends, Roz and Paul Schneid, a couple who lived and farmed in Gush Katif for twenty-seven years: Part I, a look at their lives before disengagement, and Part II, the story of what happened once they left their home, quietly and with dignity. The way they and so many others were subsequently treated is absolutely appalling.

I can’t see what good can possibly come out of this. I pray I’m wrong.

I’ll end with a bright spot, also by Naomi Ragen: The Good Our Eyes Have Seen. Even in all this turmoil and pain it’s still possible to find something positive.

Welcome Home, Ilana

Welcome Home, Ilana

My old friend from high school, Harold Berman, writes movingly about bringing home his newly-adopted daughter, Ilana.

A great big mazal tov to Harold and his wife Gayle, and to big brother Micah.

What’s This?

What’s This?

Why, it’s a one carrot dime on pin, of course!

(With special thanks to my dear friend J.)

When You’re Blue ...

When You’re Blue ...

Post cat pictures.

I was going to make these into a cute series, but now I think I’ll just post them one after the other. Cat pictures are a great comfort.

This is the cat I call Silvergirl.

Here she is minding her own business ...

Getting skritches ...

More skritches ...

Isn’t she beautiful?

Someone looks pleased ...

Clever kittycat!

“Beautiful” Seems Like a Strange Way to Describe It, But ...

“Beautiful” Seems Like a Strange Way to Describe It, But ...

It was.

My teacher Yonina’s funeral took place today at Kibbutz Einat, just outside Rosh ha-Ayin. The cemetery is special in two respects: it allows secular burials and has a great deal of greenery.

A Reform rabbi officiated. He had never met Yonina, but did a wonderful job. The ceremony was a mixture of secular and religious, both in its character and those who attended. I think there were more than a hundred people there. At the request of Yonina’s daughter, I sang “I’ll Fly Away,” a song Yonina loved and that she sang with the Kossoy Sisters decades ago.

I still haven’t internalized the fact that Yonina is gone. I suppose it will take some time for it to sink in.

In the meantime, I just deleted Yonina’s listing from my instant messaging contacts list. I didn’t really want to, but it hurt too much to see her name there and realize that I can no longer type How are you doing? and watch her answer pop up a few seconds later in the rainbow text she liked.

I’m saving her e-mails, though.

Do they have instant messaging and e-mail in the next world?