Would you murder and also inherit?

This being a widow, I see now, means exposure to one injustice after another. (For example, if he had died 64 days later, after being granted disability payments, I would have gotten 17,000 NIS for burial expenses. Because Benjy was so sick that he only lived 27 days after diagnosis, and so saved the government the disability benefits, I get nothing.) Today's, though, really makes me burn.

Today's mail brought a bill for 632 NIS from Magen David Adom, for "transportation and treatment of Benjamin Cohen." Logical enough, had they done any transportation or treatment. However, due to MDA's own screw-ups, they did neither, but still want their pound of flesh.

Within a few minutes of Benjy's unofficial death, one of our neighbors took a break from the resuscitation efforts to call for a Critical Care Unit. Five minutes later we are told that the CCU at the bottom of our hill is out of commission with a flat tire. A few minutes after that MDA called for a regular ambulance from a town 25 minutes away.

In the meantime, since there was no CCU available, the army sent one of its Critical Care Ambulances, fully loaded and staffed by a doctor. The MDA regular ambulance finally arrived 25 minutes after being called (37 minutes after Benjy had died) -- the same travel time it takes a car not going over speed limit. 18 minutes after the MDA ambulance got here, the army doctor declared the death. The MDA volunteer printed out a report (which stated that resuscitation had been done by a different medical team, and that the death had been declared by a non-MDA physician) and left, with Benjy stretched out on my living room floor.

I tried speaking to someone at MDA when the mail came in, trying to understand: if there was no transportation and no treatment, what am I being charged for? The man on the other end of the phone said it was for the declaration of death. So I found the phone number of the doctor who declared the death and he confirmed that he came with the army ambulance.

Riddle me this: MDA came too late to help. If there had been any chance of saving Benjy, it would have required the critical care unit, which was sidelined -- how stupid a reason is this to die? -- because of a flat tire. Since they didn't do a blessed thing because of their own incompetence (Hi. You're an ambulance service. Maybe you should periodically check your vehicles before they're needed?) do they really deserve to make some money off Benjy's death?

Not the Israel National Trail, still not for the old and enfeebled

Or
What I did on my 42nd birthday

While some people boycotted the march to Chomesh this Tuesday, I went. Why?

(a) Yes, it was organized by Moetzet Resha. Anyone who doesn't know that this means you go, you walk around, you take pictures and you get out of there when told (and come back on your own later, without the snitches) almost deserves to get caught. Come on--our teens know who's unreliable. Still, it was a chance to go to Chomesh.

(b) My daughters were going. Their friends were going. It was my birthday. I'm going to stay home because I don't like the organizers? Screw 'em--I'll go where I want, when I want.

(c) Something very odd was going on during the march. Several times army vehicles pulled up alongside us and shouted encouragement: "Way to go--you're the heroes! Keep going--you're halfway there." "Settlers are great! Settlers are heroes! Welcome back to Chomesh!" It's almost like they went out of their way to send unzerer soldiers. And the shortcuts they allowed us to take on the march were not the same ones which were taken on the last march. One of the kids I climbed the hill with said "It's almost like the army is teaching us new paths up there."

(d) Planning for July, G-d willing, if my father isn't in then and needing my care. 'Nuff said.

While I'm resting my aching legs (it took us over 3 hours to walk up from the junction of Shavei Shomron to Chomesh -- we have got to get back into shape), some pictures:

The start of the march (look--there's still a trail here!)


A scarecrow--if you're following Dr Who in recent weeks, you'll know why that could scare more than crows.


By this time we'd lost The Spouse, who couldn't keep up with the kids (while I was trying valiantly). We waited for him at Sebastia for a while, then gave up when he was till lagging behind.




We continued on, this time thankfully mainly on paved road (though certainly not hobo grade).


Finally The Spouse caught up to us by taking a few short cuts we didn't take (and having some teen boys almost literally drag him along) and calling us to wait for him. Man, was I happy I had thought to bring my spindle along to keep me diverted -- well, that and discussing Peres vs. Rivlin with all the press photographers who staked out the turn-off from the road to the no-trail shortcut.



(See that road in the center of the picture? That's where we'd come from. See the trail we took? No, we didn't either. We just kept going "up" until we found another paved road.)


At last we got to Chomesh (see how nicely the plants are surviving?)


where The Youngest Teen was waiting. She and her friends had come in bus chartered by her school, because they had classes until 1 pm. We said mincha and had my birthday cake, baked by Youngest Teen and somewhat worse for having survived the trip up strapped to The Spouse's back.


The media was out in force up here, too. Well, of course. Didn't Bentzi Lieberman and his crowd need cameras to play to?


We escaped the crowded entrance and went for a quiet walk around the yishuv, just the two of us and 5 teenagers in tow.
Looks pretty much like any other yishuv, doesn't it? Aside from the lack of buildings and electrical wires overhead. It would be so easy to rebuild Chomesh...



The water tower is still up, even, painted in honor of the crowd.


Hurrah for the kids who came ready to clean and plant!

Back with a vengance--or rather, with a meme

The past 12 weeks have been a roller coaster, up one day, down the next, sharp slides and long hard climbs. I miss Mom like crazy, and have to fight the urge to dial her phone number, expecting to hear her voice, half a dozen times a day.

How to go from all this emo back to the mundane of blogging knitting and teen life?

Heatherly was nice enough to ask me some questions for the Interview Meme. I love this one, because no matter how many times you do it, the questions are never the same. If you want to join in, drop me a comment.

So, here are the Yenta's Qs and my As:

1. oh i have missed your blogging! must be hard with all the traveling! not to mention crazy people trying to blow you up! or do you used to that? this is not an official question.:-)
   
   

   The traveling is pretty easy to recuperate from. People trying to blow me up--well, that's really not an issue; I live in a pretty safe area of the world, all things considered, and of the country, for that matter. (It's not like this is Sederot.)




2. my son dreams of being in the IDF, how do mothers in israel prepare their children and themselves for enlisting and the inevitable conflicts that arise?
   
   

   I was lucky. My son is slightly disabled (completely deaf in one ear) so I knew from early on that he would never be a combat soldier. We spent his entire childhood teaching him, contrary to Israeli popular mythology, that combat units weren't the best thing since sliced bread. We regaled him with stories of his paternal grandfather, who was a machinist on the Manhattan Project, and had him think about who did more damage to the enemy -- his grandfather or a foot soldier. That doesn't mean that he didn't develop rifle envy, what with a lot of his friends going into combat units; he solved that by getting a part-time job doing guard duty and armed escort work, so he has a rifle of his own. The one big conflict is what would happen if Israel stages another land giveaway as they did in the summer of 2005, giving away Gaza in exchanged for thousands of Kassam rockets, to be delivered daily over the course of years. What will he do, and how will we help him through that? No clue. We'll burn that bridge when we get to it.

   
   BTW, there's a whole program for foreigners. In fact, when we took The Oldest Teen in on Induction Day, we were speaking English as we approached the fenced-off area where recruits were standing. A group of English speaking boys called him over and told him, "You have to go inside and surrender your passport." We all started panicking a minute: he was supposed to bring his passport? No one told us that! He said he didn't have a passport with him, he had his national ID card. "Oh, you're not an American?" the boys asked. "I am, but also Israeli," said Teen. "Oh, then forget what we said; we thought you were here to volunteer in the overseas program."



3. i know you can grow your own cotton but where do you buy yarn in israel?
   
   

   Well, this year I won't be growing cotton because the time period when I usually started was eaten up taking care of my mom and then taking care of her estate. And next year I won't grow anything because of shmitta, so it's a good thing there are now decent yarn stores in Israel. It used to be, back when I moved here 17 years ago, you could buy all the yarn you wanted -- as long as what you wanted was fuschia acrylic. Now there are two yarn stores I frequent (when I'm not on a yarn diet): Badei Shani in Jerusalem (Martef HaIr, next to HaMashbir, across from the midrachov) and Gourmet Yarn in Raanana.




4. is there a yarn or product you can't get in Israel but are dying to try?
   
   

   I haven't been to Gourmet Yarn in a while, between being busy and being on a yarn diet. Pretty much everything I'd want to try she's got, or is willing to get. One thing I'd like to try, though, and which I didn't find when I was in NY last month, is Tofutsies sock yarn (and all the other cool new sock yarns that aren't 75/25).




5. what is your favourite thing(s) about living in israel?
   
   

   Oooh, tough question. I love the pace of life here, I love the freedom my kids have to go where they want, when they want. I love that here I never have to explain why I'm taking time for a religious life. (Go explain to the average American employer that you're taking off half an hour for afternoon prayers.)




6. we are just about to enter life with teenagers, any advice?
   
   

   Fasten your seatbelts. No, seriously--if you've raised them right until now, they'll be fine, with a minor bump or scrape here or there. There's a Yiddish saying--from seven to seventy, a person's essential character remains unchanged.
   When my kids were little, we had a reputation for being very strict. Now that the youngest is 15, we have a reputation for being very lenient. I rarely tel my kids no, but not because I'm indulgent--because they already know what they can do and what they can't, and very rarely ask to do something I wouldn't allow.

DIRECTIONS FOR THE INTERVIEW MEME
1. Leave a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. Please make sure I have your email address.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Now that I've broken the ice, maybe I can finish up that post about knitting in the hospice, or knitting since, or saying kaddish...

Winter delights

Crembo


chocolatey


sweet white fluff


A cookie, and done.

Shvil Yisrael -- Beit Meir

Instead of continuing our walk from last week, we hit the Jerusalem area, because early in the morning we had to hand our precious Oldest Teen over to the tender mercies of the Israeli Army. (They then loaded him on a bus and took him to the Tel Aviv area, which we could have taken him to more easily than to Jerusalem, but that's the army for you...)

We took the main highway to the Beit Meir turn-off, and parked at a KKL sign at the entrance to the Burma road.

My National Trail guidebook said that there was a 2 hour circular section headed down the Burma road, so of course The Spouse chose to head out in the opposite direction. [sigh]

The scenery is beautiful, especially all greened up for winter. The almond tree is blooming already, though it's about a month early.

The only blemish on this bucolic scene is the odor; this section of the Trail passes right alongside the Beit Meir chicken coops. At least you know, on the return trip, when you're almost done, with the perfume wafting int the air around you.

This section of the trail is much better marked than is the section on the Herzeliya beach. It's no less crowded, but here's it's bicyclists you share the trail with, thanks to KKL. (I never thought I'd say those words about the Jewish National Waste of Funds.)


Most of this section is a forest walk, with pines and oaks obscuring anything else--you can't see the forest for the tress or, as my brother put it when he was about 7, "I can't see the view. All these trees are in the way."

Along the way, enjoying the sunshine and the relative warmth, you do find reminders that it is still winter.

Rain puddles, two days after the last rain. Well, something had to get everything so green, didn't it?
At one point there's a break in the trees and you suddenly see what, in some circles, passes for civilization: the city of Beit Shemesh. Between you and the city there are kilometers of trees. All those blue-box pennies actually were used, so when are you coming to water your tree?

After about 40 minutes of strolling we got to a downhill which in real-life looked a little trickier than it does in a photograph and we decided to leave it for another day, when the Old Spouse's heel spurs are further along the road to recovery.

(If you look carefully, you can see trail markings on the big stone down at the bottom.)

And because this is still a knitting blog, proof that all this walking hasn't completely stalled knitting, though it seems to have affected my sense of color:

The first Monthly Dishcloth KAL. It was supposed to be white, but I need to start making some milchig dishcloths for Pesach... Besides, isn't snow a bluish kind of white? (Now let's all quote the Teens: "Mama, you're weird!")

Shvil Yisrael--Herzliya, heading south

We started off in the same location as last week

But this time, instead of heading towards Netanya, we turned toward the Sinda Ali complex.

On the northbound side, this part of the trail is beautiful little nooks, marble-rocky beaches, wandering through ruins. On the southbound side, it's crowded urban sprawl.

We walked until the Herzeliya Marina, where the trail leave the beach for about a kilometer; it's an easy point to remember when we next pick up our hike.

Instead of going off the beach to get to the Marina and its adjacent mall, we kept going until we found a brook of sewage which we had to cross. Obviously, others had crossed it before us, leaving help behind.

Northbound we had seen tiny little fishies. At the Marina, they looked ready to take on a small boat.

The Marina, with the Arena Mall in the background:

Arena is supposed to be a fancy-shmancy mall. OK, so it has Nine West and Kenneth Cole, but it also has Kravitz and Fox. That's fancy how?
On the way back to the car we did actually follow the trail, street portion and all. (Better than the sewage.) The one problem with the Trail is finding the markings, especially in urban areas. See the marking in the picture?

(It's on the rock, just to the right of all the greenery.)
Some people complain that Israel is getting secular, but it's everyday signs, warning of doom and destruction if one swims without supervision, still quote the Scriptures.

Some more pretty-pretties:
Lifeguard station of obviously 70s vintage:

Our starting/stopping point, 3:15 pm:

Snow kidding

The country was on high weather alert yesterday. Big storm coming--batten down the hatches. Snow! For a country that gets snow maybe once a year, it was big news. Well, there were flakes here and there, and it started snowing again when I went to sleep, so I grabbed the camera first thing in the morning, opened the front door, and found this:





Who says Israel can't make a real big something out of nothing?

Shvil Yisrael--Herzliya, heading north

Amy, I owe you an apology. I begged off getting together at Gourmet Yarns to catch up on work, but at about 10 o'clock The Spouse came into my office and made me an offer I couldn't refuse: "It's beautiful out. It's supposed to be disgusting tomorrow and Wednesday. Want to go for a walk along Shvil Yisrael?"

As a family we've walked sections of the Israel National Trail before, and would have liked to walk it all with them, but as the kids get older and have busier lives, we're seeing that it's just not possible. So we sat down with the maps we own (2 of the dozen or so) and a book about the trail to find a short segment which was accessible by car and/or bus.

We decided to walk north from Apollonia and turn around when The Spouse's heel spurs were hurting too much. (He started complaining after 19 minutes of walking, but I got him to keep on going until we'd walked 48 minutes in one direction.) To get down to the trail you pass the top of the Shell House

You go down the stairway and look for the Shvil Yisrael signage (the orange, blue and white marking on the staircase which tells you whether to go straight or, as in this case, bear to a different direction).

You pass alongside the Shell House (I wonder if this guy owns his lot or is a squatter?)


The walk itself is on the beach under the Apollonia Nature Preserve. There are signs, here and there, warning about landslides, and they're not kidding. It's obvious that at one point the wall which is currently on the rocks of the beach was attached to the remnant up the cliff.

Where this granite column fell from is anyone's guess, but the beach for at least a half kilometer north is littered with marble.

At one point you have to walk through the fallen ruins to continue. In the summer, I suppose you could just wade in the ocean instead, but yesterday was a little too cool, and The Spouse was wearing his super-duper orthopedic shoes and I cloth sneakers, so we didn't chance it.

The trail is listed as easy walking, and it is for the most part, but there are some tricky areas where you have to negotiate the ruins.

Once you get through the rock-falls it's just a nice

easy

stunning walk.