A view of the garden, as Her Ladyship stretches out to enjoy the shade:
Lady Blue Eyes:
Missy in the planter:
Tail alert!
A lionkitty near work:
Catch the Friday Ark up at The Modulator. Next week’s Carnival of the Cats will be hosted by the beautiful Hakuna and Matata over at Blog d’Elisson.
Today, a friend of mine sent me a link to Keren Ezra L’Tzafon. Their premise is an excellent one: By the North, For the North.
While suppliers throughout Israel have offered to help the residents of the North, our campaign is to support local businesses by having them supply the necessary goods. Kibbutz Lavi and other local caterers have been cooking and transporting the meals while grocery stores, toy stores, and pizza shops have been commissioned to provide their merchandise. In this way, donations serve a dual charitable purpose: supporting those whose income was cut off and providing individuals with basic needs.
You can send Keren Ezra L’Tzafon a donation here.
Years ago, I heard of a simple and economical way to polish silver that uses baking soda, hot water and aluminum foil. Today, I decided to try it for the first time.
Here’s what I did:
In one container, I combined several tablespoons of baking soda with about a liter of boiling water. Then I poured the mixture into a saucepan with a sheet of aluminum foil on the bottom. Finally, I put the items that I wanted to polish inside and let them soak for fifteen to twenty minutes.
When I took the items out of the saucepan, I washed them off with a bit of detergent. They’re now gleaming like new.
My chemistry teacher would be proud.
Sometimes something happens that really annoys me. Like now.
To the person who just link-spammed me: You have just done one of the two things that are guaranteed to get your comment automatically deleted and yourself banned from commenting on this blog ever again. (The other is behaving like a troll.)
It is obvious that you do not read my blog, and that the only reason you commented here was to push your way of thinking and get a free link.
You know what? Gambling sites do that. Pr0n sites do that. It’s dishonest. It’s slimy. If your site purports to be above that sort of thing, then you should be all the more careful to steer clear of such techniques.
I’ve seen your link-spam on other bloggers’ sites. How they choose to respond to it is their business. Me, I won’t tolerate it.
Don’t even think of trying it again here. Ever.
This week, the Carnival of the Cats is back home at Laurence Simon’s place.
Haveil Havalim is up at Perspectives of a Nomad.
The cats were in the yard when I came home from work yesterday. My camera batteries ran out of juice during the photo shoot, and when I changed them, it turned out that the ones in the pouch didn't have any energy either. I missed what would have been a great picture of Her Ladyship and Missy wrestling near the catnip patch. Oh, well. I guess it’s time for a set of new rechargeables.
Anyway, here are some of the pictures I got. First, Her Ladyship near the catnip patch:
Missy yawns, showing her pretty white teeth:
Finally, a cat on either side of the catnip patch.
Click any image for an enlarged version.
(Catch the Friday Ark at The Modulator. This week, the Carnival of the Cats returns to the home of its founder, Laurence Simon.)
Recently I began reading Herman Wouk’s wonderful book, This Is My God. Published in 1959 and thirteen years in the making, it is an explanation of Judaism’s beliefs and practices written for a contemporary American audience. It is a delightful book, informing and explaining with warmth, humor, humility and scholarship.
This is the beginning of Wouk’s section on Tisha be-Av, the sad and somber fast day that Jews begin observing tonight:
You might call this day the Pearl Harbor of Jewry. The Babylonians on the Ninth of Ab, 586 b.c., broke into the Temple of Solomon and sacked it. Six hundred years later, on the same date, the Romans destroyed the Second Temple. This fatal coincidence linking the nation’s two greatest disasters has left an ineradicable scar on the memory of the Jews.
The section’s final paragraph takes on grim significance in light of current events:
Some have argued that, with the birth of modern Israel, mourning for the fall of Zion has become an anachronism. But the Jewish national memory is long. It is not likely that the grim date of the capture of Jerusalem and the ruin of two temples will be forgotten.
There is a spot in the Old City at the base of the Western Wall (not in the prayer area, but in the section that extends to the adjacent archaeological gardens) where the destruction that the Romans perpetrated can still be clearly seen. The huge stone blocks that Roman soldiers threw from the top of the Temple Mount still lie at the base of the wall in the cracks and craters that they created in the ancient sidewalk below. The marks of burning are still plain on many of them.
The first time I read Wouk’s description of Tisha be-Av, the thought occurred to me that if he were writing the book today, he might well have referred to Tisha be-Av as the 9/11 of Jewry. For me, these pictures strengthen the similarity.
The long view:
From closer up:
From closer up at another angle:
Yet Tisha be-Av, for all its sorrow, contains the seeds of hope. Here are Tristram’s grackles in a cleft in the wall:
Spring flowers among the ruins:
Since the final verse of the Book of Lamentations is far from hopeful, and since we prefer to end things on a positive note even on the saddest day of the Jewish year, we read the penultimate verse twice:
הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ, ה', אֵלֶיךָ וְנַשׁוּבָה; חַדֵּשׁ יָמֶינוּ כְּקֶדֶם.
Take us back, O Lord, to Yourself, and let us come back; renew our days as of old!
An easy fast to all who are fasting today, and a meaningful day to everyone.
As soon as I heard about the fatal shooting attack at the Jewish Federation building in Seattle, I e-mailed two friends of mine: one whose son moved to Seattle some time ago and another who lives there herself. They’re both fine, though my friend’s son was about two blocks away when the attack took place.
In response to Treppenwitz’s question: Yes, I think that the perpetrator is a terrorist. It will be for a judge to decide whether he is competent to stand trial, and if he is tried, it will be for a jury to determine whether he was sane at the time of the attack.
Yet whatever this creep’s mental state may have been at the time, he committed an act of terrorism, just like the shooting at the El Al counter at Los Angeles International Airport. At first, the powers that be did not want to admit that the LAX attack was an act of terror, but in the end, they had to. Perhaps now they’ll wake up a bit faster ... though not fast enough for the victims.
These days I’m remembering the co-worker who, back in 1988, argued vigorously that antisemitism was dead.
I wonder what he’s thinking now.
My walk to the bus stop after work takes me through a beautiful, quiet neighborhood. Usually, the walk is uneventful, but today it was a bit different. As I was walking to the bus stop, this is what I saw:
It’s a police van containing a remote-controlled sapper robot, which drags suspicious objects away from crowded areas and detonates them. Every so often, police officers and soldiers will stop passersby on the street and tell them, “Stop! You can’t go any farther. You have to stay here—there’s a hefetz hashud [suspicious object].” When that happens, we watch the sapper van pull up as police officers open its rear doors, lowering the ramp so that the robot can roll to the street to begin its work. Eventually, the police give the all-clear, usually after the sharp boom of the sapper robot detonating the cause of all the trouble and delay. Traffic resumes on both street and sidewalk and we go on our way, sparing a thought for the poor schnook who will be turning up later on, searching frantically for his backpack only to find that it was taken for a suspicious object and blown to smithereens.
Israelis have been sensitive about suspicious-looking objects for decades, and with good reason. From time to time, the television channels broadcast public-service announcements reminding people to avoid and report suspicious objects; signs on buses warn people to pay attention to their surroundings and report any abandoned items. Parcels from the post office come with a bright red sticker in Hebrew, Arabic, English and Russian warning customers not to open them if they do not recognize the return address or are not expecting a package. Occasionally I hear someone calling out in a public place, or I call out myself: “Whose bag/box/backpack is this?” until somebody claims it. It’s a part of living in Israel that one gets used to fairly quickly.
I happened to pass by at the end of the incident, as the police officers were packing the robot back into the van and preparing to leave. Apparently, there was no danger this time.
I guess that someone in that quiet neighborhood saw a suspicious object and reported it. I’m glad they did, even if it turned out to be an innocent item in the end. One can never be too careful, especially now.
(Read about Jerusalem’s bomb squad here.)
This week’s Carnival of the Cats is up at The Scratching Post, and Haveil Havalim is up at Soccer Dad.
It’s Tummy Tuesday #2!
(I missed the first one.)
Here is a pic of Her Ladyship’s furry tummy:
Meryl and Lair have posted their contributions as well.
There is no such thing as too many cat pictures.
No, I didn’t suddenly discover that I have royal blood. I’m in the process of getting a crown for one of my upper front teeth.
It’s been a long and difficult haul, not only for myself but also for my excellent and long-suffering dentist. I must confess that it’s my own darn fault. I waited a very long time, far too long, to get this crown. But better late than never. The process is under way, and soon I’ll have a nice new crown in there to replace the dead, discolored tooth that was there before.
The process has been very interesting. Mostly it involves long minutes, and sometimes hours, in the dentist’s chair, enduring the motion of the drill with its bits of various sizes, textures and accompanying sounds. And don’t even ask me about the anesthetic injections. All right, they do their job, but man, does that needle ever hurt!
The most interesting part of this journey took place several days ago, when my dentist sent me to the dental lab that he works with. There, the technicians literally construct new teeth. I watched, fascinated, as Oved, the technician I went to see, took out his color-matching charts to find the appropriate color for my crown. He graciously allowed me to take a picture of the charts and of his work station, and here they are.
The charts:
The work stations:
When I left, I walked around the building, which is contructed on a hill in a northern Jerusalem neighborhood, and enjoyed the following views:
My dentist’s office is sixteen floors up in downtown Jerusalem, with a breathtaking view. Maybe I’ll get a picture from there soon.
It’s here.
I’ll write the same clarification here that I did there, since it appears toward the end: I am located in Jerusalem, nowhere near the front lines of the conflict on either front.
Like many towns in the central region of Israel, Bet Shemesh is taking in people fleeing from the rockets striking the north.
Via Eric J. at Meryl’s: Among the Bet Shimshis who are doing their utmost to help the war refugees is this talented young soldier, Elie Deutsch, who has started a hesed project to help soldiers and residents of the north. The proceeds from his CD sales will be going to help these charitable organizations.
Via Sandy Cash: a post from her Israel Diary with further details on what the Bet Shimshis are doing to help their fellow Israelis, and how even those who aren’t in Bet Shemesh, or even in Israel, can help.
P. S. Treppenwitz (of Efrat) is part of an important effort, too. Read about it here, and join if you can.
Orange and blue topaz respectively, that is.
Click on the image to see a larger version.
(Check out the Friday Ark up at The Modulator. This week’s Carnival of the Cats will be up at The Scratching Post on Sunday.)
Get your weekly dose of cats and Jews right here!
(Courtesy of Creatures of the Earth and Life of Rubin, respectively.)
Meryl had a rough day recently. Looks like she could use some cat therapy.
Although Meryl has two cats of her own, the Right Worshipful Tig and Gracie, I still believe that one can never have too many cat pictures (or videos). So here are a video and some pictures of the Self-Skritching Calico Cat, whom I met again yesterday on the way home.
Here’s the video, with an audible purr:
Here are the photos. First, a closeup of the kittycat:
A very happy cat gets a skritch:
More skritches for the calico lady:
Feel better, Meryl.
I confess that I wasn’t sure whether to post these pictures. But when I saw that David of Treppenwitz had blogged his blood donation, I figured that if he could, I could, too.
I guess you could call it a case of “Blogger see, blogger do.”
The technician who drew my blood was kind and had a great sense of humor. He joked with me the entire time he was preparing my arm, and just before he inserted the needle, he said, “Now make a face as though you’re in a lot of pain. ...”
He had an excellent touch, too. I hardly felt a thing.
So ...
The van:
Putting my feet up during a busy day:
I join Treppenwitz in urging all locals who can donate blood to do so.
Via Meryl: Daled Amos has a list of places to send help at the end of this post.
Meryl includes a link to Magen David Adom. For the locals: MDA needs blood donations, too. I’ll be showing up at their blood-donation van (which I like to call the Friendly Neighborhood Vampire Van) sometime next week. There’s just something really neat about getting to put my feet up for a half hour in the middle of downtown, even if I do have to pay for it in blood.
The classic definition of the Hebrew word hutzpah is one who kills his parents and then throws himself on the mercy of the court because he is an orphan.
A friend of mine just suggested a new definition of hutzpah based on the following item from the radio news. It seems that an imam who had been deported from the UK to Lebanon for having preached in favor of suicide bombing came to the ship that was evacuating British subjects from the country, claiming that he, too, had the right to live in safety.
The British had enough good sense to throw him out.
Toward evening, Missy gets very energetic and has to let off steam. So one evening this week, she went outside and began to leap up the trunks of the trees in the yard.
What goes up ... oh, no. You’ve got to be kidding.
Help! How on earth do I get down from here?
Having conquered the smaller tree, Missy goes for the elm:
Go hind legs first and dig your claws deep into the bark, little kittycat, and you’ll get down safely.
She did.
(Check out the Friday Ark up at The Modulator. This week’s Carnival of the Cats will be up at Creatures of the Earth on Sunday.)
I just finished part of the enormous freelance job that I’m doing in my copious spare time. The job is made up of several tasks (joblets?), and the part that I just completed was particularly long and labor-intensive. It helped keep me from obsessing about what’s going on here even worse than I am already. And it felt good to be able to send the finished product off to its destination.
Tomorrow I translate news from the Hebrew press starting at 6:00 a.m. local time. I usually pray for a boring shift, but I guess that’s already been decided.
Here are some pictures of the Tel Aviv beach from my trip there last week:
I pray that tomorrow will be a quiet day, or at least a quieter day, in the north and in the south. My thoughts and prayers are with everyone who lives there, and of course with our soldiers in the IDF, wherever they are. May God send healing to the wounded, comfort to the families of the dead, and to our troops: good aim.
Richard Cohen of the Washington Post says that Israel is a mistake. He drags up all the manufactured talking points (read: lies) that we have been hearing from various and sundry professional Jew-haters for the past several decades: that the Jews are intruders on the land, that we have no right to be here, blah, blah, blah.
The man’s ignorance—or willful disregard—of history is absolutely astonishing. It would seem that he has never studied the subject. Or maybe he wasn’t paying attention in class. Whatever the reason, his article is so full of holes that I am tempted to use it for a colander, except that I would rather not expose my good pasta to anything that stinks so badly.
Since the amount of work I have right now prevents me from giving Cohen’s article the treatment it so richly deserves, I’ll direct my readers to those who have done just that. AbbaGav has an excellent fisking, together with a list of bloggers who have treated Cohen to fiskings of their own, including Meryl Yourish, Dave Bender, Carl of Israel Matzav and Judith of Kesher Talk. Soccer Dad has an extensive roundup of responses as well.
Israel a mistake, Mr. Cohen? No. Try your entire way of thinking. Oh, and this just in: the Cyclops enjoyed the wine very much, and has promised to eat you last.
N.Z. Bear, he of the amazing aggregator projects such as the TTLB Ecosystem and the Übercarnival, has begun yet another: mapping Middle Eastern bloggers who are writing about the current war.
I join Laurence Simon in urging all local bloggers who are blogging about the war to register.
This week’s Haveil Havalim is up at A Barbaric Yawp.
And this week’s Carnival of the Cats is up at Musings. Ah, kitty goodness. Much needed. Much appreciated.
For current updates and commentary on what’s happening here—and what we can do—check out this post at J-Blogosphere.
Treppenwitz has an excellent post on what those of us inside and outside Israel can do to help during this challenging time.
Meryl has ongoing news and blog roundups, and Imshin has some thoughtful posts. Laurence Simon has insight, cats, much-needed laughs, cats, a Bingo game and oh, did I mention cats? (Oh, yes, today is Carnival of the Cats day, too. I’ll be seeing it tomorrow morning if all goes well. Dratted time-zone differences.)
And me? Well, owing to some unexpected large expenses this month (one that I have blogged about and another that I haven’t yet, but it involves several close encounters with a dental drill), I’ve taken on some extra work, and if I want to pay my bills, I’d better get cracking, war or no war.
Before I go, a few updates: my friend, the one who moved to Safed recently and whose apartment took a direct hit several days ago, is doing fine, though she can’t go home yet. Her landlord says that her possessions are recoverable.
Her Ladyship seems almost fully recovered. I saw her outside in one of her favorite spots yesterday, and she gladly accepted some skritches.
I saw the Lady in Red yesterday, too, and she was in a jealous mood. When she saw me paying attention to a calico mama cat with kittens, she got upset and swatted me.
Back to work. I’ll post more when I can.
(See Normblog for an excellent definition of the wonderful, almost-untranslatable Hebrew word, davka.)
“Catblogging? Now?! Don’t you know there’s a war on?”
Yes, I know, and I’m doing it anyway. Davka.
Her Ladyship was ill this week. She came back to my friend’s apartment one evening with a high fever and a pronounced limp. The veterinarian’s diagnosis was an infected cat bite. My neighbor diligently gave Her Ladyship doses of antibiotics, which she swallowed obediently. (Oh, all right, she was bribed. Chicken. She adores the stuff.)
When I saw Her Ladyship earlier this week, she was feeling miserable. She was hunkered down in her “sickroom” at the bottom of my friend’s bedroom closet. My friend put down blankets and brought in food and water so that Her Ladyship wouldn’t have to go too far for either; the poor kitty was having quite a bit of difficulty walking.
Good news, though: since that day, and after a full day under observation at the clinic, Her Ladyship is well on her way to complete recovery. When I saw her last night, she was walking almost normally, with only a slight trace of a limp. She has regained her ability to leap from low to high surfaces and back, and she is venturing outside once again.
Even with all the insanity, sorrow and fear in these parts, there are still plenty of things to celebrate. Her Ladyship’s recovery is one of them.
So go to hell, Hizbullah. In your face, Hamas. Am Yisrael hai—ve-hatulenu gam ken. The Jewish People lives, and so do our cats.
Davka.
(Check out the Friday Ark at The Modulator. This week’s Carnival of the Cats will be at Musings on Sunday.)
I got a text message from a friend of mine while I was at work yesterday. She had a close call.
She’d been settling into her new digs in Safed, having moved up there recently from Jerusalem. Several days ago she was called back to Jerusalem unexpectedly on urgent business, and she was still here yesterday when she received a call from her landlord. It seems that her apartment took a direct hit during the rocket strike on Safed.
She doesn’t yet know the full extent of the damage or whether any of her possessions are recoverable. We’re all very grateful that she was far away when the rockets hit and that she is alive and well.
I guess she will soon be benching gomel—reciting birkat ha-gomel, the traditional Jewish blessing of gratitude for having escaped a dangerous situation.
The blessing is usually recited in the synagogue, during the Torah reading, by men and women alike. The Sages determined four main categories of people who must recite the blessing: one who has crossed the ocean (in our time, this includes air travel), one who has crossed the desert (or been saved from any other life-threatening situation), one who has recovered from childbirth or serious illness, and one who has been released from prison. The one reciting the blessing says:
בָּרוּך אַתָּה אֲדֹנָי אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, הַגּוֹמֵל לְחַיָּבִים טוֹבוֹת, שֶׁגְּמָלַנִי כָּל טוֹב.
Barukh atah, Adonai, Eloheinu, Melekh ha-Olam, ha-gomel la-hayavim tovot, she-gemalani kol tov.
Blessed are You, Adonai, our God, Ruler of the universe, who bestows goodness upon the accountable, who has bestowed every goodness upon me.
The congregants respond:
אָמֵן. מִי שֶגְּמָלְךָ (ל"נ שֶׁגְּמָלֵךְ) (כָּל) טוֹב, הוּא יִגְמָלְךָ (ל"נ יִגְמָלֵךְ) כָּל טוֹב. סֶלָה.
Amen. Mi she-gemalekha (feminine: she-gemalekh) (kol) tov, hu yigmolkha (feminine: yigmolekh) kol tov. Selah.
Amen. May the One who has bestowed goodness upon you bestow goodness upon you always. Selah.
Yes, Judaism—which has a blessing for just about everything—has a blessing for close calls, too.
(More details about birkat ha-gomel and its laws may be found here.)
Good grief. Spend a lovely day with a dear friend, and come back home to find that all hell has broken loose.
It looks like our government finally gets it. We are at war. Actually, we have been at war for the past several years, but now there can be no mistake or willful disregard about it any longer—at least, I hope not.
God protect the IDF and the residents of the north and south.
God be with us all.
There’s one bit of silver lining in all of this: arch-terrorist Muhammad Deif is in critical condition. That’s one fewer enemy for our troops to deal with.
Treppenwitz has an excellent post, and Meryl has a round-up of links to Israeli bloggers who are blogging the situation.
Haveil Havalim is up at Me-Ander.
The Carnival of the Cats has made it to 120! It’s up at Music and Cats.
I was walking along a street in a Jerusalem neighborhood yesterday when I heard the sound of a waterfall. The sound surprised me since Jerusalem is not exactly known for its waterfalls, particularly in July. Perhaps I was imagining things, I thought. But it was real:
A little farther along, I discovered that whoever had built the waterfall had also built a wooden windmill:
There was a waterfall, complete with water wheel, beneath the windmill as well. The whole thing was operational, too. The arms of the windmill were turning, as was the water wheel, and the water—probably in a closed system—was flowing freely.
Here is something that looks like a small chapel, with a staircase leading to it:
Here are two views of a wooden ship with a crocheted Israeli flag at its bow. From the front:
From the side:
All of these amazing things are located at the entrance to an apartment building in Jerusalem. Has anyone else seen them? Does anyone out there know the story of these hidden gems and their builder?
Her Ladyship catches some rays:
Here’s Missy. Little does she suspect what’s in store for her ...
Gotcha!
As a bonus, here’s a photo of the friendly white kittycat I met a few days ago:
Shabbat shalom, and may we hear good news.
(Check out the Friday Ark, up at The Modulator. This week’s Carnival of the Cats will be at Music and Cats.)
I just saw this article in the Jerusalem Post: Damaged Kotel Ramp to Be Removed.
After a two-and-a-half-year delay, a three-decades-old wobbly ramp leading up to the Mughrabi Gate adjacent to the Western Wall which has long been unsafe by city engineers will be removed soon, enabling the shortened women’s section of the Wall to return to its natural size, officials said Wednesday.
The stone ramp, which was built after the Six Day War in 1967, and served as the point of entry for non-Muslim visitors entering the Temple Mount, was badly damaged during an earthquake that rattled that region two years ago and by inclement wintry weather, archeologists said.
Heavy rains during the winter of 2004 caused a partial collapse of the ramp onto the women’s section at the Wall.
After being deemed unsafe by city engineers, the strategically-placed ramp was blocked off and a new bridge was built next to it, which is currently used as the main non-Muslim entryway to the Temple Mount.
After a section of the pathway collapsed, the area of the Wall allotted for women's prayer closest to the rampart has been cornered off due to the danger it posed to worshippers, severely reducing the women’s section of the wall.
With the planned removal of the rampart now said to be imminent, the section of the wall allotted for women’s prayer is expected to shortly return to its natural size.
“There’s no reason that in the most sacred site for the Jewish people, the men will have a big comfortable plaza while the women will have to be cramped and crowded,” Jerusalem Mayor Uri Lupolianski said, who has supported restoring the women’s section of the wall to its natural size.
“Natural size”? Just what does that mean? The size of the women’s section at the Western Wall is determined by human beings (specifically, by men), not by some vague force of nature.
I have a challenge for Mayor Lupoliansky and the authorities in charge of the Western Wall: If you truly want the women to have a comfortable prayer area and not be “cramped and crowded,” then move the mehitza. Make the men’s and women’s prayer sections the same size, indoors as well as outdoors.
Talk is cheap, Mayor Lupoliansky and Rabbi Rabinowitz. As long as you keep the women’s section roughly one-third the size of the men’s, your words mean nothing. As long as you reserve nearly all the indoor space for the men and allow the women next to none of it—especially during Israel’s long, hot summers and beneath its broiling sun, which turns the Western Wall into the equivalent of a stone oven—then all your words are worthless, and you are endangering lives as well.
Prove that you mean what you say, Mayor Lupoliansky. Move the mehitza or, if you cannot, then ask those responsible to do so, putting the full weight of your position as mayor of Jerusalem behind your request. Provide equal space to men and women, indoors and out. There can be no justification in either halakha or Israeli civil law to allow the current inequity to go on.
(See my previous posts on the spatial inequities at the Western Wall: Western Wall Renovations I, Western Wall Renovations II and The Incredible Shrinking Women’s Section.)
The Carnival of the Cats is up at Watermark. Haveil Havalim is at The IgNoble Experiment. Enjoy.
Cats and Jews. Nothing like ’em.
Lots of ups and downs today.
On July 27, 2004—Tishah be-Av of that year—my refrigerator broke down. I posted the following:
I called the repairman and described the problem. Getting up my courage, I asked him: What could this problem be, and how much will it cost to fix? He replied that it could be anything from a minor repair to one that would cost approximately two thousand shekels.
Last night I noticed that my refrigerator was making strange sounds. This morning, I noticed that it was no longer cold inside. The Seventeenth of Tammuz is around the corner, so I guess that my refrigerator has chosen to mark the Three Weeks with a broken compressor pump.
Two years ago, it was the inexpensive repair. This time it’s the two-thousand-shekel one. The good news is that the part is guaranteed for one year.
On the other hand, I may have some freelance work coming in, which will be nice, particularly since one of my jobs is about to end. (More on that later.)
Finally, today’s 4:00 p.m. Israel Radio news report included a prediction of a slight drizzle up north. Rain in Israel is highly unusual during the summer, and to add to the feeling of strangeness, the announcer’s voice, which is usually trained and laconic, reflected his surprise ... but professionally, of course.
I find myself wishing I could be up north for that drizzle.
