More of the same

 It will probably take a few more days in this round. until next time. It's more of the same thing that was already here. I think a thousand times if this is the right time to get in the shower because no one wants to get caught during an alarm in the middle of the shower. I am not going to the gardening center because if the alarm catches me on the way and I have to stop and lie on the ground I am not sure I will be able to get up easily. I of course can not travel to the grandchildren because they are right in the range of the missiles and it is dangerous. There was still no alarm here and if it will be I am not sure that the minute and a half I am supposed to get to the shelter would be enough for me. I do not remember when I last ran and probably I am no longer as fast as I used to be.

This too shall pass

The orange stripes on the TV show us exactly where the missiles will fall in a little while and who should hurry up and enter a protected place. I am 50 km from Gaza so I have a minute and a half to find shelter. I have no protected room and all I have left is to rely on miracles. My grandchildren are 45 km from Gaza and have 45 seconds until the missile falls. They have been sleeping for two nights in the protected room and of course do not go to school.

My daughter sent me pictures from the protected room, she and the cats and children are busy with their own. A lot of missiles fell around them yesterday.

 

The things I could write

My dad has written more than twenty books and I am unable to write even a few lines in a post. I used to be a member of a writing group that some of the members of it have become well-known writers here. That was more than thirty years ago. The writer David Grossman told me then that of all the members of the group I write the best and I should continue. From that time I stopped writing for some reason. Blogging is supposed to be something fun and I can not bring myself to do so. And here are some chapter headings for the posts I could write - the old letters in Yiddish that my grandmother's missing sisters wrote before their villages disappeared in Poland. The preparations for Seder night at my daughter's, the ancient coins she finds near the house. All this in the meantime in pictures.

 

 I removed the new post because I acted a little against my principle of not posting the pictures with the faces of my grandchildren. I just wanted to tell about the strange way they have been learning for almost a year. But there's nothing special about it, that's what everyone in the world does now. I know the post stays on the list of posts for a while so the first ones can still see the pictures. Happy weekend everyone.

Happy Christmas

 Merry Christmas to all my good friends here in Blogland. Have a Happy holiday wherever you are, and hope for better days.

Happy lockdown

Here in the picture are seven of my grandmother's nine sisters. One sister is not in the picture and the brother is missing. My grandmother is one of the little girls sitting.

 The photo was taken in Leipzig, Germany. My grandmother was born in 1900 and was probably five or six years old when the picture was taken. My journey through Corona time brought me up with each of the sisters most of whom I knew nothing about.

Each of the sisters has a dramatic and often tragic life story. Their grandchildren and great-grandchildren are scattered in many places in the world. Mostly in the places they came to and lived there.Two of the sisters did not survive the Holocaust and died in Auschwitz.

The grandchildren and great-grandchildren live in Israel, England, Germany, Denmark, South Africa, the United States, Australia and Brazil. One sister emigrated to Norway but had no children.

Oddly enough a large proportion of the grandchildren and great-grandchildren are doctors, psychiatrists and psychologists, artists and painters. My grandmother was a painter.

One of the grandchildren is even an English baron.

I now know the personal story of each sister. Her date of birth and who her children and grandchildren were. We now have contact with a large number of them and it seems that everyone has been happily drawn to this fascinating journey of discovering the roots.

We have a WhatsApp group that connects all the ends of the world, and it gets small all of a sudden especially in the days of the

lockdown.

A moment of courage

I'm trying the new blogger to tell you how in a moment of courage I went shopping with her that she had been so looking forward to.The day after they went into isolation because her brother was near a corona patient.