Playing tourist with the parents...

So yes, it's true. We've survived another visit from the parents. We survived the inevitable, disgusting heat that summer in Israel brings, and for the most part, we did our best to stay away from the blistering sun. We played tourist and tour guide, and somehow, despite the fact that they've been to visit us nearly every year for the past 16 years (have I really been living here for 16 years? Wow...), we still manage to take them places they've never been, and often, never even heard of before. The Sanhedrin burial caves at Beit Shearim, which I mentioned in a previous post, is one such place. The Little One delighted in running around the caves, descending steep stairs and climbing in and out of the various cave openings. Note the Husband in the shot below, entering one such cave as though it were Platform 9 and ¾ at King's Cross Station in London.

Forced into a state of semi-vacation mode, we found ourselves dining in a variety of restaurants around the north and center of the country. Fish and seafood was often the order of the day, and dining beachside on the Mediterranean was a regular occurrence. This picture was taken from our table at Manta Ray, where Savta Dotty and I switched plates about midway through the main course.

At "Ha'kdera Shel Noga", located on Moshav Beit Shearim, the spring chicken was a big hit.

While in Jerusalem (following a trip to the Sorek Stalactite/Stalagmite Caves outside of Beit Shemesh), we sat for a late lunch at a restaurant downtown, just off of Hillel Street. Sadly, the name of both the restaurant and the street it's on escape me (Help me, Jerusalemites! The side street has Blockbuster and Aroma on either corner of Hillel...), but I'm certain that we will make it a point to go back there whenever we find ourselves requiring sustenance in the capital. You know how it is. You enter a restaurant and peruse the menu. Sometimes, you can't find anything that strikes your fancy, while other times, there are so many mouthwatering choices that you just can't decide what you'd prefer. In this case, it was definitely the latter. I ordered the sweet potato ravioli while Mom and Dad both chose the eggplant and goat cheese ravioli. You have no idea... So, so good...

Lunch in Jerusalem was followed by a ride on the Jerusalem Time Elevator, which was followed by a walk to the Old City, skirting the Muslim and Armenian Quarters and a stroll through the Jewish Quarter(where we were startled to discover that the Hurva Arch is no longer standing, and has been turned into a construction site of sorts), ending on the stairs overlooking the Western Wall and Dome of the Rock, a site that never fails to take my breath away.


We spent one day up in Acco, wandering around the Old City and taking in the sites that Husband and I had somehow missed on all of our previous trips. I've always liked Acco, despite the fact that I find quite a few of the restaurants there to be a bit overrated, with the unpredictable service often found in establishments where the staff have an overdeveloped (and in many cases, undeserved) sense of importance. The antiquities are impressive, though, and the architecture is striking. Beware of shop owners who may take issue with your attire, especially if you happen to be a woman in a tank top and shorts.


And of course, all of this running around was simply the backdrop for the main event – allowing a certain little boy spend time with his grandparents. During our trip to the US in April, it was amazing to watch the Little One come to the realization that he would be unable to get by solely in Hebrew and slowly but surely switched to English in order to make himself understood. Following our return, he continued to use English, but as time passed, he eventually reverted back to Hebrew. In the company of his grandparents, he once again found himself in a situation that required him to speak English, and while he stumbled occasionally, his ability to switch back and forth upon request was great fun to observe, especially as he switched between accents as well.

On the morning of my parents' departure, the Little One and I were sitting together on the couch. I told him that I was sad because his grandparents had left. I was once again reminded of how much I love my son when he responded by patting my head and saying, "Don't worry, Mommy. I'll stay with you. I'll take care of you." When the Husband returned from the airport he was told, "Mommy's a little sad. She needs a hug and a kiss." And these are the moments that get me through the day, helping me to preserve my sanity as we watch "Toy Story" yet again (giving the phrase "to infinity and beyond" a whole new meaning), and I am told that I'm no longer his friend because I've cut off the cookie supply. Aaah, the joys of motherhood...

The photos below were taken at the ancient port in Caesarea.


(Some of the above photos were taken by me, while others - the better ones - are courtesy of my mother.)

See Liza run...

Well hey there everyone. I didn't mean to pull a runner yesterday, but life has been totally hectic with my parents here, unexpected deadlines at work and so on. We've been running around the country, hitting such spots as the Sanhedrin burial caves at Beit Shearim, the old city in Acco, the Neve Tzedek neighborhood and Jerusalem. I'll write a more extensive post with photos after they leave tomorrow and life has returned more or less to normal (it won't return to complete normalcy until the Little One has returned to pre-school next Sunday), but just wanted to mention a few of the highlights of their visit.

The Jerusalem Time Elevator. We went yesterday, and the effects were great! The seats move in accordance with what you're seeing on the screen, and it was brilliant. I did feel sorry for the couple that took the "walk of shame", though. Part way through the film, there was a pause and the lights came on, and the reason for the pause (announced, of course) was that someone in the moving seats wasn't feeling well, and had asked to move to the stationery seats (and no, it wasn't me!). We all sat and watched as a young couple made their way to the new seats quickly and silently, before the lights were dimmed once again and the movie restarted.

Manta Ray. My parents and I spent a fabulous day in Tel Aviv with Savta Dotty, whom they met when we were all in Florida in April. Savta Dotty took us to lunch at Manta Ray, making her a star forever in my parents' eyes. The food was divine. The dessert was unbelievable. Sitting at a table overlooking the Mediterranean, we chatted over the salads, laughed over the fish and seafood, drooled over the chocolate concoction with four spoons moving furiously between plates and mouths. The service was excellent, and we will definitely be going back. Lunch was followed by a stroll through Neve Tzedek, where we wandered around the grounds of the Suzanne Dellal Center, strolled in and out of the small galleries and shops scattered about the neighborhood (which is undergoing some serious gentrification these days), and even managed to acquire a beautiful necklace from the gallery of Ayala Bar, as Savta Dotty found herself an amazing pair of earrings.

The Sanhedrin burial caves. The contents of the caves were interesting to see, and given the fabulously cool temperatures underground, this place is the perfect outdoor summer excursion. From the caves, we went to lunch on Moshav Beit Shearim, and dined at a restaurant called "Ha'kdera Shel Noga" (Noga's Stew). To put it mildly, the food was simply outstanding, not to mention beautifully presented. The setting was gorgeous, the service was excellent, and don't forget to order the parfait for dessert.

Anyway, that's about all I have time for at the moment. Stay tuned for more details (and photos) later on in the week…

Wahat al-Salam - Oasis of Peace

Neve Shalom ~ Wahat al-Salam (in English, Oasis of Peace) made headlines last year when former Pink Floyd frontman Roger Waters performed there. This unique cooperative village was founded jointly by Jewish and Arab Israelis in an attempt to show that the two peoples can live side by side peacefully, as well as to conduct educational work for peace, equality and understanding between the two peoples. The community was founded on land that was originally leased from the adjacent Latrun Monastery, mid-way between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, and there are currently more than 50 families living in Neve Shalom ~ Wahat al-Salam, with an equal number of Arabs and Jews. Many more families from both groups are on the waiting list to join this very special place.

Neve Shalom ~ Wahat al-Salam's school system was the first bilingual, bi-national Jewish-Palestinian educational facility in the country, and the Jewish and Palestinian teachers each speak exclusively in their own languages to all the students, creating an atmosphere that allows the students to explore their own identities as well as gain appreciation for another culture.




As you can see in the above video clip, the people of Neve Shalom ~ Wahat al-Salam – those who live there, those who work and volunteer there, and those who choose to benefit from the wide variety of services and resources provided – are committed to dialog and co-existence.


So, here's your chance to check out a four-time nominee for the Nobel Peace Prize up close and personal. If you're going to be in the area (and it's a beautiful region, so I highly recommend it – don't forget to pick up a few bottles of wine made onsite at the Latrun Monastery), pop in and say "shalom" or "salam" and I'm sure they'll be happy to have you.

Sights of the North; Sounds of Israel

Last Saturday afternoon, following a tiring-yet-fulfilling day of wandering around fortresses and waterfalls in the North, I suddenly found myself feeling envious of my blogging pal Benji. Why was I harboring such feelings towards such an upstanding fellow, you ask? Okay. Picture this scene in your mind. You're sitting in the car with your loved ones, heading home from an excursion chock-full of the sights, sounds and smells of the Hermon region. Your mind is all a-jumble, as you think about Nimrod Fortress, the Banias nature reserve and waterfall, the deliciously cold mango slurpee you drank earlier, and the perfectly-timed iced coffee you're drinking now. The day was a success, and you can't help but wonder how it could get any better. And then it does. The radio station that you're listening to starts broadcasting an hour-long tribute to Naomi Shemer, and all of your old favorite songs are suddenly being played one after another.

Your thoughts start drifting back to the long, lost days of youth, lazy days of summer spent in summer camp. You can remember singing these songs, dancing to these songs. You think of the good times you had, the friends you made, and suddenly, you turn melancholy, wishing you were there again. And suddenly, you remember that Benji is there again. As you sit in your air-conditioned car, stuck in weekend traffic while singing along with the best of Naomi Shemer, ignoring the three year-old next to you who keeps asking for one last cookie, you realize that Benji is probably doing the one thing you'd give anything to be doing at that moment, and alas, you are indeed feeling envious of Benji.

Seriously. What could be better than spending your time with the words and music of the late Naomi Shemer, one of Israel's most popular and talented songwriters? Who hasn't heard "Yerushalayim Shel Zahav" ("Jerusalem of Gold"), or "Al Kol Eileh" ("For all these Things")? This prolific song writer, who passed away in the summer of 2004, played a definitive role in shaping the Israeli music scene, with her songs often reflecting the national mood of the day. Her music has accompanied Israelis through good times and bad, and her tunes have been sung by Israeli artists from all musical genres.

The clip below shows the Israeli singing group The Dudaim (Yisrael Gurion and the late Benny Amdursky) singing of one of my favorite Naomi Shemer songs. The title is "Tilbeshi Lavan" (You will wear White), and the first verse and chorus are translated as:

This summer you will wear white
You'll think clear thoughts
Perhaps you will receive a love letter
Perhaps we will make choices.

I will choose you and you will choose me
And together we'll mostly be
If this summer you will wear white
And pray for good.

Wandering around the North

Since moving to our home in the north approximately ten years ago (though in this case "north" is open to interpretation, as some would refer to it as the "Northern Sharon" or simply as part of the ever-expanding boundaries of the "center"), we have done our best to take advantage of our proximity to some of the more beautiful parts of the country (and this, of course, also being open to interpretation). While I enjoy a good walk, I've never been a big hiker. The husband, on the other hand, lives to hike, and consequently, we've spent a great deal of our marriage meandering along various trails around the country, trails with varying degrees of difficulty. Fortunately, Israel has a great deal to offer when it comes to communing with nature, whether you fancy a treacherous hike through the desert, a leisurely stroll through a forest or past a waterfall, a picnic in a nature reserve (watch those campfires, folks!), or an educational outing to any one of a great number of antiquities sites and ancient ruins.



We've spent a great deal of time in the wild lately, and I never cease to marvel at all this country has to offer. A few weeks ago it was Nazareth and the Basilica of the Annunciation with friends, and just this past weekend we managed to hit the ancient synagogue (with its very impressive mosaic floor) at Kibbutz Beit Alfa, the Belvoir (Kochav Hayarden) fortress (the photo above was taken there), and the water channels by Nachal Hakibbutzim (see the photo below). We also managed to hit a tremendous amount of traffic on the drive home, but that's simply par for the course when returning home late on fabulous Saturday afternoon.

The Basilica of the Annunciation took my breath away. One of my favorite things about living here is the accessibility to so much history, and the Basilica did not disappoint. Wandering through its intricately designed halls filled me with a great sense of awe. I gazed around the chapel and stood by the grotto, allowing myself to be taken in by the historical impact of my surroundings, feeling as I had felt many years earlier when I first visited various sites in Jerusalem's Old City, feeling the history come alive. I never grow tired of the seemingly endless sightseeing opportunities here, but few have struck me as the Basilica did.

And of course, what outing would be complete without food? Indeed, some of the best food I've eaten in Israel has been discovered far away from the culinary center of Tel Aviv. We recently had the distinct pleasure to eat at El Babor (click the link and then scroll up to the first restaurant listed under "North"), a restaurant in one of the Arab-Israeli towns lining Route 65. Just thinking about the lamb's neck stuffed with rice and pine nuts makes me drool with longing, and I'm not even a big fan of meat! Unusual salads and professional service have put El Babor on our permanent radar, and we will undoubtedly look for reasons to return.

The north is filled with excellent restaurants that are well-worth the detour off the beaten path, but should you wish to bring your own, there's certainly no shortage of picnic and barbecue sites, many of which also have large, well-designed play areas. I've lost track of the number of times when we've stumbled upon one of these spots during our travels, caught totally unprepared (in other words, not having had the forethought to actually pack and bring food), and added the location to our growing mental list of spots to return to with food and friends. And, in typical Israeli style, if you stay long enough, the inevitable four-wheeled Israeli phenomenon affectionately known as the "gazlan" will roll up, proffering a splendidly fattening selection of ice cream. The kids are happy and everyone is sated. Now if only someone would come around with the mobile cappuccino maker, life would indeed be complete...

You know you're in Florida when...

1. You see an alligator behind the house within an hour of your arrival.
2. Your hosts talk about hitting the early bird special for lobster night at one of the local restaurants.
3. You've seen three alligators behind the house within three days after your arrival, and are told that you might see more, because it's mating season.
4. Your Little One begins to say words in Spanish before he feels comfortable in English.
5. Your host strongly recommends not going past the last house at the end of the street, as just beyond the grass is the beginning of the lake, and alligators like to hang out there. To bring the point home, your host mentions how she once took a walk down to the end of the street, walked in the grass, looked down at the lake, and saw an alligator staring back at her.
6. The obituaries column in the local newspaper shows that no one is actually originally from here.
7. If you see an alligator by the local bank machine (in close proximity to a lake, lest you think they can be found wandering the city streets), you can call someone to come and take him away.
8. Taking a walk through the neighborhood involves looking both ways at golf cart crossings.
9. You learn how to say "alligator" in Spanish.
10. You feel like the youngest person wherever you go. By a lot. Especially when you find yourself having lunch in a restaurant before noon.
11. Streets downtown display signs with arrows, indicating evacuation routes in the event of a hurricane.

Three shirts have been added to the Official Clothing Count.

Liza – Queen of the Desert

"Welcome to Jordan and thank you for using UMNIAH GSM network. We wish you
a pleasant stay in Jordan. For customer care inquiries please dial XXXX"

This was the SMS text message that I received on Saturday morning as we drove along a trail known as the Peace Road, running parallel to the Jordanian border, deep in the Arava Desert between Moshav Idan and Moshav Ein Yahav.

As you may have surmised from the cacti photo in the blog header (taken on our porch), we are big fans of the desert. Without fail, whenever we head down south to either the Negev or the Arava, my mind immediately kicks into high gear as I try to come up with a feasible plan for relocating. Such was the case this past weekend, as we made our way through the Arava with various members of Husband's family, stopping here and there to see the sights and to hear absolutely nothing aside from the sounds of our own voices.

The desert in Israel is simply magnificent. While I've never been much of a hiker, there are few sights that I enjoy more than the stark desert landscape, with its ragged-edged mountains and snaking wadis, and as we delve in deeper and deeper, I feel more and more at peace with myself. Suddenly, nothing else matters, and my stress is gone. In fact, here's the text message that I sent to nrg after we arrived at our desert accommodations (with a few minor modifications):

"We're down in the desert. I'm sitting on a sofa outside of our little cottage, drinking coffee and watching the stars come out. It's absolutely incredible. Wish you could see it. Just had to tell someone how amazing it is here. We're right on the border with Jordan, and Husband's cell phone has even switched to a Jordanian network (as mine did the next morning). So incredible here. I don't want to leave."

And it truly was that incredible. We stayed at a little place on Moshav Hatzeva called La Siesta, and as you can see from the pictures, it was absolutely idyllic. We relaxed, we barbecued, we relaxed some more (especially after I downed my own mini-bottle of white wine at breakneck speed), and for the first time in a long time, I almost felt like me again. And, needless to say, I miss that feeling. Exhausted by the rat race and growing increasingly wary of hi-tech, my soul is in dire need of rejuvenation, which will hopefully happen before it's sucked away completely.


Anyway, back to the desert. We left mid-morning on Friday, stopping to drop off the dog with family and pick up one of the nephews, who would act as a playmate for the Little One during the long drive south. Following a brief detour through the bowels of Beersheva, in a fruitless search for a long-closed yet fondly remembered ice cream parlor, we left the world behind us, watching as the buildings were replaced by Bedouin communities and the cars were replaced with camels. Husband had put together an itinerary that ensured we would have a journey of never-ending vistas, and as usual when it comes to all things desert, he did not disappoint. We ooohed at lookout points over the big and small craters, we aaahed over the rock formation that somehow resembles a frog. We held on tight as we wound our way around the hairpin turns along the narrow road that hugs the crater wall, and we dragged the children on foot to admire the views and the solitude of the desert.


Upon arrival at our cottage, I gently placed the napping Little One in the middle of our big bed, and woke him up when dinner was ready. I spent the interim leaning back on the pillows on our patio, looking up at the stars and wishing that I could stay in that position forever. There is no sky like the desert sky at night, with its velvety blackness peppered by millions of sharp pinpoints of light. The desert and the sky seemingly go on forever, and without realizing it, you have become an integral part of this magnificent, awesome setting. The feelings of oneness with the surroundings are total and undeniably soothing, and suddenly, you feel complete and at peace in ways that you have forgotten are even possible. And this is how I felt.

Of course, it certainly helped that the weather was perfect, and unusually warm for this time of year. Winter nights in the desert are quite cold, and somehow, we'd lucked out. Our luck would continue into Saturday, as we saw the desert sights while wearing short-sleeves, and sometimes no sleeves, as Little One felt the need to remove his shirt whenever it got wet, which happened with greater frequency than one might expect. After making our way from one end of the Peace Road to the other (periodically thinking about my Jordanian friend Rami, knowing how much he misses the desert in his native country, and knowing that he would have enjoyed these views just as I did) and stopping briefly to view desert sculptures, we ended up at Park Sapir, where some of the adults prepared lunch while others chased a certain small, topless child over bridges, around a lake and through trees and bushes (who'd have guessed that such little legs could move so fast?! Pant pant...).

Following lunch and a tad more chasing, we packed up, collected all children, and headed for home, accompanied for most of the journey by an all-encompassing dust storm that turned the skies and the air a dull shade of brownish gray and making everything look hazy and blurred. The Little One slept, and I daydreamed about moving to the desert. As we say in this neck of the desert, life is something something...

Ode to a City

Who’d have guessed it? I’ve fallen in love, and it feels so good! The sights, the sounds, the people (well, obviously not all the people, and certainly not in an individual, sexual sort of way! Get your minds out of the gutter, people!)! That’s right, I’ve fallen in love with Tel Aviv! I know what you’re saying. You think it’s too soon. I’ve been on the new job for less than a week. You’re thinking that I’m still in the honeymoon period, that chinks in the armor will start to show soon enough. Okay, I’ll grant you that it’s certainly a possibility, but only as something in the vague, distant future. Not something that’s going to happen today, tomorrow, next week, etc. For now, this is it. The real deal. The tingly feeling (or is that a Fimbley Feeling? Too many hours spent viewing the kiddie shows on BBC Prime, no doubt…) I get when crossing the bridge from the train station, the adrenaline rush as I power walk through the streets towards my office (which may very well be connected to the caffeine buzz I pick up while inhaling the large, low-fat cappuccino I grab each morning at Ilan’s Café). Oh, and did I mention the magnificent vistas from the 7th floor patio of our office, with sweeping views of Tel Aviv? I know it sounds so cliché, but on a clear day, I can even see the sea! Oooh! It’s just so lovely!

Of course, with all due respect to those of you who actually live in the city, I’m not sure that I could live there, as attractive as it seems at times. I like my quiet and I like my space, both of which are at a premium in Tel Aviv. Still, I’ve been spending quite a bit of time there of late, and find that I’m sometimes envious of those who don’t have to tramp back to the suburbs at night, those who can step out of their homes directly into the hustle and bustle, with restaurants and shops at every turn. I mean, shit! How exciting must that be?! Don’t get me wrong, I love where I live. However, you can’t really walk anywhere, and the public transport is less than stellar. And despite the fact that we’ve got a number of shops open on Saturdays, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I sometimes wish for something more. I mean, not that I’m expecting a food festival or love parade, all I’m saying is that it might be nice if things were a bit livelier.

And Tel Aviv is definitely a happening place. Why, in my own little adopted corner of it, there are a veritable plethora of restaurants to suit all sorts of tastes, at least one excellent coffee place (as mentioned above), an assortment of shops and bakeries, and, for those of you who might be interested (though there’s certainly no need whatsoever to bring your interest to my attention), there’s even a selection of strip clubs. A most diverse area indeed. I haven’t had much of a chance to explore (and there are a few establishments that will most likely not make it to the list), but I do know that the British Council has an office around the corner, with a quaint little café that provides a range of current British newspapers, English news on the telly, a small library and a bank of computers connected to the Internet. Even the name of the café was quaintly British, though it escapes me now.

Just being in this exciting city makes me feel good, like I’ve suddenly been presented with a gift of endless possibilities, all mine for the taking. I can make plans with my Tel Aviv-based friends to meet up for lunch or a drink, or attend a stimulating lecture. I can go to the theatre or a concert, or catch a movie at any one of the many cinemas that the city has to offer. I can sit in a café for hours on end, nursing lattes and writing, while the world of Tel Aviv passes by. Aaaah, bliss.

I’m not quite sure how to end this, but it seems that the decision has been taken out of my hands, as the train will shortly be pulling into my stop, and given that it’s Sunday and the path to the door is an obstacle course of people, bags and weapons (many soldiers with rifles casually slung over their shoulders), it’s best that I start now, otherwise, I’ll never make it off the train, and will miss my morning coffee (shudder).

Where's Pa? Where's Gamma?

Whew! Parents successfully dropped at the airport (though admittedly, I have yet to hear whether they’ve arrived back home safe and sound, so I suppose it’s possible that they’re still at the airport, though I imagine they’d have called had this been the case). Two hectic weeks of running to and fro, here and there, and essentially, everywhere. I felt like a tourist in my own (albeit adopted) country, given all the sightseeing we did. Just to give you a brief rundown – the Safari in Ramat Gan, Mini-Israel, the Golan Heights and around the Sea of Galilee, parts of Tel Aviv, Caesarea, and Zichron Yakov. We visited beaches, parks, galleries, and festivals, and went to more restaurants than Husband and I manage to get to in a year. Speaking of restaurants, should you find yourself hungry while driving through the Jordan Valley towards Tiberius, I highly recommend stopping for a bite at “Tzel Hatamar”, a fabulous restaurant just North of the Peace Island of Naharaim, and across the road from Moshav Menahemiya. Food and service were both excellent (we highly recommend the salmon and the spring chicken), prices were reasonable, and the setting was lovely.

During the course of our travels, we managed to get together with family friends, do some shopping, and appear on television. Okay, if truth be told, it was only for a second, and it was only Husband and the Little One, but it was still pretty cool! We went to the Arts Festival at the Reading Power Station in Tel Aviv (following a terrific little meal at the Comme il Faut café at the Tel Aviv port), and while practicing to name the different facial features on a very colorful statue, a Channel 2 camera man filmed the two of them for a few seconds. Didn’t know at the time that it was Channel 2, but coincidentally managed to catch the story about the festival on the news that evening, and there they were! Husband’s sister called us straight away to say she’d seen it, but otherwise, it seems that viewership is down, as nobody else we know had seen it. If truth be known, we prefer the news on Channel 10, and just got lucky while flipping channels during the commercials.

And, as if all of this activity wasn’t enough, whenever we were home, especially during the last few days, parents were glued to either the television or the Internet, tracking Hurricane Wilma, and wondering if they should arrange for the windows of their home in Southwest Florida to be boarded up, while at the same time corresponding with my brother in Southeast Florida about the pros and cons of putting up permanent hurricane shutters. After several days of uncertainty regarding Wilma’s plans for South Florida, it seemed that while my parents’ home would miss the brunt of the storm, my brother’s home could take a more direct hit. I suppose that only time will tell, and we will be wiser (and perhaps somewhat battered) 24 hours from now.
So, as I look back over the visit, I think I’d have to say that aside for a few bumps, it was mostly successful. The Little One realizes (as much as a 17 month old can realize) that something is different around the house, and that his grandparents aren't around anymore. I ask him where they are, and he goes into the guest room looking, while raising his hands in his typical "I don't know" gesture and saying, "where's Pa?". This morning, he pointed at their pillows on the bed and made a shushing gesture, as if we didn't see them because they were still asleep. Very cute! The house is definitely quieter now, and aside from some new toys and clothes, you'd never know they were even here visiting.

Anyway, now that I've more or less returned to real life (and whatever that may entail), I imagine that my posts will reflect the change accordingly, and I shall return to my usual maddening, obnoxiously witty (with just a trifle of modesty!) self.

Busy Busy Busy!

Yes, we've been quiet. We know. But, we've got very good excuses. All of our parents are in town! He and I haven't even had a chance to touch base, we've just been so busy running around with our ancestors and watching them turn all mushy in the presence of our children that we haven't had a moment to write! With the little one safely in day care, Mom lingering over breakfast and Dad sitting on the porch reading the newspaper, I thought I'd take a few moments to let you know how it's going.

Arrival two days ago went fairly smoothly, though there were moments of anxiety when my parents thought they'd lost all of their luggage. In the end, it turned out that someone had taken everything off the carousel and left it stacked together off to the side somewhere. A happy ending, but certainly something they could have done without, following the flight from hell. The little one recognized them straight away, thanks to our constant drilling with photos, and even managed to point to my dad and say his name (though to be completely honest, he first pointed at Mom and called her by Dad's name). Upon arriving at home, suitcases were emptied of toys, videos, books and clothes for the little one. Given the sheer quantity of items for the grandson, it's amazing that there was even room for any of their stuff! They might even be able to return home with a lunchbox-sized carry on! I'm kidding, of course, but there will be at least one or two less bags on return.

Yesterday we went to the Safari - a wonderful zoo in the Tel Aviv area, and had it pretty much to ourselves. The little one slept the whole way in the car, and started to wake up as we pulled into the grounds. One mention of the word "animals", and his eyes popped wide open in amazement, as he saw all the birds coming up to the car, the zebras, the hippos in the pond. I love the zoo, but to see it through the eyes of my son is truly something special. He ran all over the place, looking at the monkeys, and completely taken with the birds. "Bye bye, tuh-tle" had us rolling in hysterics, as did his roaring at the "cat" (which was actually a fierce looking black puma). He was intrigued by the sheep, especially as they ate the pellets straight out of Mommy's hand, and enjoyed watching Mommy in the petting zoo. When he started to cry on a bench by the deer area, one of the female deer stood quietly by the fence watching him, only going away once we managed to get him to stop crying. She was obviously concerned for the crying baby, and we were in awe of her apparent concern. The look on his face when one of the birds said "hello" was priceless! I knew that Mom had reached her zoo limits when we walked through the bird area. The birds started making all sorts of birdie noises, and all Mom could say was, "ah, shut up". Given that she's not prone to taking out her aggressions on our feathered friends, I realized that it was time to head for home.

The long ride back was broken up by stops at two supermarkets - first to Tiv Taam, as we were in desperate need of seafood (Dad's been after me to make him crab cakes for some time now), and then to our regular supermarket, to stock up on a veritable plethora of other items. By 9pm, parents, husband, the little one, and the dog were all fast asleep, completely exhausted from our day at the zoo. Today and tomorrow we'll be on forced rest, due to Yom Kippur, but come Friday, we'll be off again to parts unknown. The longer I live here, the harder it is to come up with good destinations, as the parents have been nearly everywhere at this point. We've got a tentative schedule for the duration of their trip, but if anyone has any suggestions for outings, especially child-friendly outings, I am definitely all ears! Mini-Israel is already on the schedule, as well as vaguely defined plans to head "up North", but we are seriously running out of places!

Anyway, must go drink more coffee. Had only one cup of regular coffee yesterday, as opposed to usual three cups of latte, and paid for it dearly with a dreadful headache! For those of you fasting on Yom Kippur, I wish you an easy fast, with a reminder to watch out for the mad cyclists who take over the roads every year. I'm sure the little one will be running about madly and riding his tricycle as well, but given that his feet don't quite reach the pedals yet and he's only just discovered the magic of being able to steer as of this morning, I'd be willing to bet that one would have nothing to fear if they found themselves in his path. Bye-bye, tuh-tle.