Red color

 A screenshot of my iPhone. It's three forty-four. At night. All the places where the alarm sounded are colored red.

The Houthis in Yemen are still very determined and this is the second time this week they have fired their missile. The previous one destroyed a school near Tel Aviv. Luckily it was at night. This night a playground in Jaffa was hit.                                                                                                                                      There was no alarm here, but I heard it from all the surrounding towns and also the loud explosion of the interceptor. (I hope that's the right word, that's what Google suggests..), the fear is the same fear even when the alarms aren't actually here.                                                                                                   Red is the name of the app that notifies you of alarms in real time.

Where despair is more comfortable

 There is an Israeli song whose lyrics are like this - Hello, I'm leaving for London, where despair is more comfortable.

It was written many years ago, it was always a bit uncomfortable here, and we always thought it was more comfortable elsewhere.

These words ran through my head this morning, I see how much the Americans are pained by the results of the last election, how much the English are suffering from their new government, and the Dutch, who still don't understand, but they were conquered by violent people.                                                                              This morning I got up like everyone here a little before six o'clock to the sounds of the alarm, with my eyes closed I ran to the shelter where I met the young families of the neighbors with the small children and the dog Bella who was very frightened.

A ballistic missile was fired from Yemen and made its way to us.

Then I came home and made a pot full of zucchini stuffed with meat, white rice, and meatballs in red sauce. I watered the garden and thought thoughts

Meanwhile here

My garden this morning and the new door at the entrance to the house. The Blue Angels are two of many that came from my many trips to Greece years ago.                                                                                      The one closest to the door is from Tinos Islad. One of the legs is a little broken, but  I still love him/ 

be a troll

 The few among you must have noticed the troll's comments here. They don't last long here, thanks to the blogger who allows comments to be deleted, and they really do nothing for me, but I wonder what the unfortunate mental components are of those who choose to be a troll.                                                                       First of all, he must be very cowardly, he has no profile, he has no figure and face, he is anonymous, he has no courage to express his opinion openly. And he doesn't actually have an opinion either, from his comments it is clear that he is very anti-Israel and anti-Semitic, and anti-Semitism is not an opinion. He is very angry that I really like people who support me here, and expresses his anger in a very childish way that indicates some other problematic lines in his personality.                                                     The overt and covert aggression he shows in his comments make me wonder where else this comes out in his life, and I'm sure this is a very unhappy person.                                                                                               Choosing to be a troll is choosing to be a bad and cowardly person, your comments are deleted before I even read them, so I suggest you, instead of investing the energy here, take care of yourself, maybe get the right treatment and restore your miserable personality.

Yom Kippur

 Yom Kippur eve.

I'm not religious, but you can't ignore this holiday. It's always been that way. This is a holiday where you fast, ask for forgiveness and believe (those who believe) that on this day everyone's fate is determined. There are no cars on the roads and there are no radio and television broadcasts. It's always been that way.

But like everything with us, everything is always emotionally charged and complicated,                                            It is no coincidence that 51 years ago the Yom Kippur War broke out in which we were attacked from all sides.

This war left me a very young widow with a baby girl.

And now this war, it still has no end.

Rumors say that even today we may be attacked, there is an incessant noise of planes in the sky, something very unusual on Yom Kippur but has become routine for almost a year now.

The phones are next to us because from there will come the message whether to go to the shelters.

In the north, hundreds of rocket launches all day and evening.                                                                                                   I want my old life back. The days when I wasn't afraid to take a shower because there might just be an alarm, the days when I didn't arrange my shoes so that I would find them in the dark if I had to run to the shelter at night, the days when I could plan for tomorrow without saying at the end of every sentence "if everything will be alright".

And there are also good things, yesterday my granddaughter sent a message "Grandma, I couldn't ask for a better grandmother".                                                             

a new day

 Corresponding with my granddaughter on WhatsApp while staying in the bomb shelter yesterday evening, (outside many alarms and explosive sounds of ballistic missiles from Iran)                                         she;

"grandmother

did you have an alarm

are you ok? how are you?

"We are in a shelter" (my answer)   me-                                                                                                                     

she-

very good

how are you feeling (she asks)

I send her a picture of the little children of the neighbors who are with me in the shelter and draw pictures on pages that their parents made sure to prepare in advance in the shelter.

she-

will be fine

Stay in the shelter

I was with a friend and we entered the protected room

we are all fine

And after we got quieter we sent each other hearts and flowers on WhatsApp.                                                       

She is 14 years old, with the spirit of a devoted and caring grandmother.

be brave

When someone writes that they don't take sides, even if they are one of my favorite people in blogland, I ask myself where we failed in mediating our reality here to the world.

Please, even those of you who don't take sides, even if it's hard and scary and can create a crack in your worldview, go learn and read what really happened here on October 7th. You will learn the small details and the terrible stories that happened here, in complete surprise, the brutality is captured on the body cameras of the people from Gaza who arrived here that Saturday morning.

Watch, among other things, the video of the boy from Gaza who tells his mother that he killed several women and now father continues. Without going into the small details he describes, and his mother in response encourages him. This is one of the 7000 Gazans who committed the terrible massacre here. Learn the small details, it's important. Also for your history.