More of the same (2,3)

 Last night at 3:30 tonight at 2:11. And again the run to the shelter and the meeting with the neighbors, the children and the dog Bella.

Like the previous times, for some reason I wake up five minutes before the alarm, I know it will come and wait. Now I also know what the scary sounds of the American interceptor missiles sound like, called ahaad or something like that, they sound terrible but are very helpful against the Houthi ballistic missiles.                                                                                                                                                                  Ten minutes in the shelter until you hear the sounds of explosions, and then two hours in bed until I fall asleep again, if at all.                                                                                                                                         

More of the same

 And again the alarm sounded at 4.21 in the morning. It was a good thing I had my shoes and phone ready so I could quickly take them on the way to the shelter. We passed through the neighbors' yard and with trembling legs, while the alarm was still audible, we opened the iron door and went down the stairs to the shelter.

After that, two young families arrived with their small children, one of whom brought the blanket with him that he sleeps in bed with, and the dog Bella who is very frightened as always by the alarms.

We waited ten minutes until we heard the explosions and still with trembling legs, I returned home.

Merry Christmas to all of you, wherever you are.

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".