"Window in the Skies"

My favourite band of all times is U2. Below you'll find U2's latest video. It's an awesome song and even more fantastic video - a tribute to all great musicians. How many do you recognize?

Holocaust Memorial Day

The world is commemorating Holocaust Memorial day today. My father is a holocaust survivor. I've never heard him talk about his past. He would shut the TV any time there was something on about the Holocaust. He didn't want me to know about it. I ended up learning everything at school, and later from family relatives who did talk about it.

The drawing above was forced on him by the teacher. This is his interpretation of what he lived through. This is probably the most emotional drawing he's ever done. The one that means the most to me.

His father was a hero who helped release a train cart of all the Jews as they were being transported to Auschwitz. He was an engineer and worked on trains, he knew where the bolts inside were and how to remove them. He was hailed as a hero for many years later when all survivors immigrated to Israel.

My grandmother escaped with my dad thanks to Catholic neighbours, who came and warned her that the Nazis were on their way to the apartment building to take away all the Jews. She grabbed my father and ran across the street. They hid for three days inside the electricity bunker across the apartment building. When they left it on the fourth day and returned to their apartment - all the Jews were gone. Transported to Auschwitz - none survived.

A short while after, the people who worked for my grandfather came over to him and offered him the legal papers of one of the employees. They told him to take his family and escape Poland. My grandmother was so grateful for these legal papers that she swore to the person that she will keep his last name forever and never return to her previous name. She died as Mrs. Kozdrowicz. The name of the family that gave my family a chance. Without this family I would have never been born.

On my mother's side the tragedy far exceeds what a blog post can tell. Maybe one day when I have the emotional strength to talk about it.

The unique talent

There's something unique about my father's drawings. I've been uploading them for the past couple of weeks, and I will continue to upload them even after revealing what it is, because once you find out the truth you'll be even more amazed at his talent.

These two drawings are sort of a hint about it. Can you guess it yet?

I hope these two drawings don't shock any of my audience. I grew up with these drawings in my house, so I'm fairly used to seeing nude paintings. My dad likes to paint nude women. Of course, it's no surprise that I got some of his talent and feel equally attracted to drawing nude men.

My dad and I have identical tastes in art, which makes for a very special relationship between us. He's bought me all my jewlery and all the paintings hanging on the walls of my house. Almost all the art books on my bookshelves are from him. We both adore M.C. Escher and worship Salvador Dali. We love surrealism.

But there's something special about my dad's talent, that I don't know of any other painter who can proudly display it on their resume. You see - my dad is ... colour blind! He does not know what the colour green is. The two differently coloured words in the previous sentence are the same colour to him. He cannot drive in a city where the traffic lights are hanging horizontally. The green and red are the same colour to him. He cannot shop for clothes alone. He could not play Master Mind with me without me screaming "bloody hell, you're cheating!" He paints with the assistance of a colour wheel and a book that tells him what colour trees are, leaves, ground, houses, etc. He looks at the names on the paint tubes, but cannot take the paints out of a tube because that would confuse him with the other tubes.

And now that you know this, go back through all his drawings and notice what a genius mind can create without ever knowing what it looks like to the normal eye. These very colourful paintings were all painted by a colour blind person.

Enough of this cold weather

I know I shouldn't be complaining after the very mild winter we've had so far, but this is too cold for me to be able to work if my hands are constantly freezing. Apparently, the facilities department where I work believes that 71 degrees is sufficiently warm for a working environment.

Ask me whether I see anyone else working but me!

These darn people don't work. They sit on their hands to warm them up. I can't seem to get any answers from anyone I work with. I doubt they even log on their computers to check email in this cold.

I'm ready for summer. Ready for some warmth. Ready for sunlight. I want to finish reading my book while my husband drives me to work. Of course, that's unlikely to happen once we move, because I'll be ten minutes away from work. I'm not certain what I'm going to do with that extra time. Sleep comes to mind. Or maybe I'll clean the house or something.

Maybe I'll have time to start a side business. Who knows.

Suspicions

Many years ago I volunteered at the USO in Israel. My work meant that I'd meet hundreds of American sailors and marines every day there was a ship in port. In six years of volunteering, out of the more than 100,000 Americans who came through the USO's doors, I've made dozens of friends and communicated with them almost regularly after they left my hometown. One of them is my husband today. It was not intentional. I had no plans to fall in love with an American. It just happened. Thing is, I met him only six months after I began volunteering at the USO, and I stayed volunteering there for another five years later. This gave me the opportunity to compare him to the thousands upon thousands of Americans I met after him.

It was love at first sight and it was true love.

Four years after I met him, a ship pulled into port on a Jewish holiday. It was one of those fasting holidays, when all restaurants and coffee places are closed. So myself and a couple of other volunteers decided to invite some Americans from the ship over to my friend's house and have a nice dinner there, on the rooftop in the open air. It was about a dozen people. One of them, called Alonzo sat across from me. Alonzo was a big black guy (in Israel we don't use the term African American). Big - meaning he was about 6'4" and overall large. Me - I'm a small pettite 5'3". We chatted for several hours. Had a blast. Talked about everything under the shining sun.

Turns out, in a funny "it's a small world after all" that Alonzo knew my American boyfriend (today my husband). He knew him because he worked with him on another ship. This is one of those "stranger than fiction" coincidences. The funny part was that Alonzo has heard my boyfriend talk about me incessantly and he kept laughing at him telling him that I'm probably already with someone else. Well now that Alonzo has met me, and heard ME talk incessantly about my boyfriend, he knew the truth - we were made for each other.

Alonzo and I exchanged addresses (no email at the time) and phone numbers. We intended on keeping in touch because I thought it was hilarious that he knew my boyfriend.

A couple of years after I got married, I got a phone call from a woman who identified herself as "Alonzo's wife." Apparently, she found his "black book." It had phone numbers and addresses and she suspected he was having an affair, so she began calling each one in the book. She "confronted" me about it on the phone. I couldn't stop laughing. How do I explain to this woman that Alonzo is SO NOT MY TYPE?! I tried to gently tell her that I'm married to someone he worked with, and proceeded to tell her the entire story. She seemed okay with it but warned me not to contact him.

Another side story - a year after I got married, one of the Americans I made friends with and communicated with quite a bit called me up and told me he's not allowed to stay in touch with me. He got married and his wife forbade him from contacting me by phone or mail. I had no idea where this came from. I never had a relationship with this guy other than we talked a whole lot. And I would have never dreamed of even flirting with him because he was a male chauvinist and I didn't care for it. I just had a good time talking to him about everything under the shining sun.

So yeah, I profess guilty for enjoying to talk to men quite a bit. Why not women - simply because we don't share the same interests. It's tough for me to find a woman who is into technology and gadgets, architecture and construction, books and dogs, programming and mathematics, politics and religion. Yeah, I miss those years from the USO when I met so many men to talk to.

Drowning in the Sea of Clutter

We begin moving to our new house on Feb. 1st. In an attempt to create an aggressive schedule of packing for my husband and I, we are now effectively a day behind our scheduled activities. It's unbelievable how much clutter we've accumulated in fourteen years of marriage.

I keep hoping that this move will result in us throwing away a lot of things, but so far we haven't even filled out one trash bag from everything we have in the living room and dining room. I'm really counting on the computer room and bedroom to produce the most trash bags, since those are the two rooms I hate the most in the house. Figures that those are the two rooms where I spend the majority of my time.

It's taking me quite a bit of time to pack everything, mostly because we have a lot of fragile items from several collections we've gathered over the years from around the world. I came across one item that almost entirely disintegrated, and I'm not sure how to pack it without causing further damage. We collect stones from places we've been to (well, almost everywhere. We did not pick one from Uluru out of respect for the natives who requested we leave it there). The almost disintegrated item is a stone from Petra, Jordan - beautiful shade of red, from the iron content, but it's more red sand now than stone. I tried to pack it gently, but I'm not certain it will survive the move. Another stone that got separated from its source of interest is a stone from the dead sea - the salt sheet that was on it came off. It's strange how the most fragile items in our house are actually stones.

Funny discovery in one of the drawers where we held our silverware - a broken mirror inside a beautiful brass frame which we got for our wedding. A delivery all the way from Israel, which broke before it got to us. Seven years of bad luck have passed twice over. I think it's time to find someone to fix it.

This packing business is all about discovery. Some of it was a very pleasant surprise to see some items we've purchased overseas that I still enjoy looking at and would buy again if I saw it.

I dread the day that I start packing the computer room. This is the most cluttered room of all. This is where everything goes when we have guests over. This is where everything goes if it doesn't have a dedicated cabinet for it. This is where I live. Where all my "to be read" books are on the shelves. And where I collect years and years of papers from work, bills, health records, printouts, manuals - things I'll never look at, but I keep thinking "I may need it." This is where all my professional magazines are stacked. Including a PC magazine about Windows 98!

My goal is to have at least five trash bags from the computer room and bedroom. Some of it is a true shame to throw because I'm sure someone else would love to have it. But I don't have time to go and sell it and charity doesn't take everything.

I may not have much time to write every day, but I'll try to upload a drawing once a day. Has anyone figured yet what's unique about the talent in these drawings?

Bursting in a rash

I think the stress of work and buying a house is causing this crazy rash on my face. Thankfully, most of it is unseen, but it's irritating me. The part that's visible looks like bug bites. I'm just not sure whom I can convince that I got bitten by mosquitoes in 40 degree weather.

The lead inspection today resulted in a positive report. The type of report that says, "Yes, we're positive there's lead based paint in your house." Now we're waiting for the details - which layer of paint is it? And how do we mitigate it?

The appraisal came back with a similar number as our offer.

The sellers are flying in on January 31st to sign the contract at 2pm and they leave on the next flight back.

I just hope this rash doesn't expand to a point where I'm unable to leave the house in fear of being declared contagious.

Tomorrow I break the news to my mother and father. I've been thinking about the best way to do it all afternoon. I have an idea of how to do it, but I'm fairly certain my mother wouldn't get the hint and I may have to just tell her outright what it means.

My mom calls me every Friday morning on my way to work. Past couple of months were extremely hectic for the both of us. My parents just moved into a new apartment, after 38 years in the same apartment. This deserves an entire separate post, so look for it in future. At the same time of their move, I was going through health hell which had my mom overly worried on top of all her other worries. So she's forgotten to ask me how the house search is going. I didn't volunteer information. I decided to tell her only when we get close enough to signing on a house. Tomorrow would be as close as it gets for my own comfort.

I intend on telling her, "Mom, I figured out what you can get me for my birthday next month. I want a new Mezuzah!" She'll of course ask why, at which point I'll tell her for the new house. Her expected reaction would be - "oh, ok" and she'd switch subjects or ask "so how's the house search going?" And that's when I'll ask, "Why do you think I need a new Mezuzah?!"

Is it this one? Or that one? Maybe it's this one?

Today I learned that house inspections can take three and a half hours. I also learned that you can't take photos of 90% of the annoyances we decided to list in the house inspection:

• The heater was making an awful lot of noise.
• The gas meter outside was leaking gas and the smell was noticeable, yet the machine didn't catch up on where it came from.
• The electrical wires connecting the lights in the house were all crisscrossed, so you'd turn one switch on, and a light in an unexpected place would turn on. But I'll be darned if we could find the light switch for the light in the foyer. It wasn't any of the three switches by the front door.
• And the freezer wasn't making ice.

Tomorrow's excitement will involve lead inspection. I decided to pass on this, eventhough it was my idea to check it. I have too much going on at work to spend another three hours of my day watching someone else check my future bathroom.

I'm getting a serious case of buyer's remorse, yet trying to convince myself that this is the house. I've already saved into my favourites a possible door bell, lawn ornaments, and address labels to notify my friends of change of address. We still have a week to go before we really sign a contract. The appraisal is the deal breaker for us. If it comes too low, then we're not taking the deal, and we continue our search for the perfect house.

In the meantime, I'm trying real hard not to buy anything unless absolutely necessary. In my last round of shopping I actually had to think hard whether to buy new soap or just use all the leftovers I have around the house. When my bathroom ran out of toilet paper yesterday, I grabbed a roll from another bathroom, but now I stand before one heck of a decision - do I buy the discounted 24 roll pack, or the 4 roll pack to last us til the move?

These are truly tough decisions for me. I don't suppose there's any website to help people like me, is there?

Houses and Architecture

Among the many books we have to pack are several collections of Architecture Magazines. While this makes perfect sense for someone who's majored in Architecture, the magazines were actually a mutual purchase between my husband and I. When we got married we had an ongoing debate of our professional future. Turns out I wanted to major in Computers and my husband wanted to major in Architecture.

Life happened, and I majored in Architecture, and my husband is the Senior Network Engineer.

But neither of us gave up our passion in life, so there are two shelves of Architecture magazines, and two shelves of computer books.

This of course led to a very exciting house search, during which we both agreed that we can't stand the American box with cut out windows. We wanted something unique. Open floor plan. Lots of windows. Lots of outlets for all my electronic gadgets. Reality set in when we realised we cannot afford that house.

Now that we found a house, we both get to replay our passion in life. My husband gets more magazines about interior architecture, and I draft the floor plan and 3-D plan on the computer. Come to think of it, that pile of books we set aside for charity is as high as the new magazines and books we bought in the past three weeks about Moving, Interior Design, Modern Architecture, etc.

Tomorrow is a milestone day - the house inspection. That's when my husband gets to play his favourite role - nitpicking on every small item in the house. He loves doing it. I may have to bring my camera along just to give you proof on the stuff he picks on.

What's the saying - every person who owns a house thinks he's an Architect?

Yeah, you better believe it!

Packing a House

We started packing our house. We started with the easiest thing to pack - books. In the process of packing we're also finding books we no longer care to keep. I just wish I had the patience to sell them on e-bay or something. It's just too much effort. I may have to take a photo of the pile of books that we're getting rid of and post it here in case someone has an eye for rare books that I could sell for a thousand dollars.

I love books. Fortunately, so does my husband. So we spend our quality time once a week at a bookstore. We never go to the library for the simple reason that we're too lazy to remember to bring the books back. We'd rather own books anyway. I used to read the same type of books through high school - Science Fiction. Then when Grisham began to publish I started reading Mystery. From Mystery I moved on to Suspense, Fiction, Non-Fiction, you name it. I think the only category I may not have touched are autobiographies. I just can't find anything fascinating about someone talking about themselves.

There is only one book that I've read more than once: The Chosen by Chaim Potok. I've given this book as a gift so many times that I think I subsidized all copies that our local bookstore ordered in the past ten years. I saw the movie many years ago while I was in high school. I've been searching for the DVD since DVD's came into the market. I finally found it a few months ago. It was as good as I remembered.

I am not going to launch into a review about the book, because others do a better job. But I will wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone who's interested in reading a good novel about the split between Ultra Orthodox and Reform Jews. While this may sound like a very specific topic relating to Jews, it's an excellent novel about a friendship that goes beyond the differences of opinions.

The type of friendship that I have learned to appreciate in recent years.

One heckuva emotionally draining week

They say bad news come in threes. They also say good news come in threes. I got it all of it in one week and I cannot remember any other week in my life that was so emotionally loaded with good and bad.

On Tuesday we celebrated our 14th anniversary with a nice dinner, and my husband surprised me with dessert - chocolate cake and 14 roses. And the timing was right in the middle of a discussion we had about how many times he's caught me off guard and surprised me. I'm so far behind, I don't think I can ever catch up.

On Wednesday morning I got an email from our real-estate agent that someone was ready to put in an offer on the house that we liked. Within half an hour we contacted our mortgage loan officer to send us the pre-approval letter. Within an hour my husband drove to a local branch of our bank close to his work to get a cashiers check for $7,500 (because we stupidly never carry a checkbook with us anywhere and we live an hour away from work). Within an hour and a half we were in the real-estate agent's office signing papers to put in an offer on the house. To throw in a bone, we told our agent that our mortgage officer is willing to close settlement by the end of the month.

Thursday morning I had a surgery to attend. But my mind was elsewhere for many reasons and by the time we got to the hospital (again, an hour away), I realised I forgot my x-rays at home. So I had my husband drop me off, and sent him back home to get the x-rays - hoping he'd get back before my surgery. I know. I know. I'm an idiot!

While I was having a nice discussion with the anesthesiologist, my phone rang. Thinking it was my husband I checked to see who it was. It was my client. Thankfully, she left a message and I was able to listen to it after the anesthesiologist left the room. That's when the good news began to roll in.

Apparently she had an informal talk with the boss about me quitting my company and wanting to stay work for him. He seemed very eager to keep me on board even as an independent. This makes life much easier for me, because now it's only a matter of giving him the optional contracting vehicles and let him decide which one I should go with.

Then came surgery time. I lost a bet. It was a stupid bet, and I should not have been betting just as they were getting ready to gas me, but I was in a good mood. So I now owe dinner to half the surgical team. And what's worse - I remembered the bet when I woke up from the anesthesia and that was the first thing I said out loud - "I guess I still owe you dinner?!"

The surgery went well, but the part that I always dread and specifically warned them about still happened. I got up to horrendous pains in my wrists from their attempts to put in IV's. I'm still in pain and can't do anything that requires twisting the wrists. You'll be amazed how many daily activities require this action. Ranging from opening the water tap, through opening a bottle, through brushing the hair. The surgery left me with four holes in my abdomen, but the relief was immediate. I can finally walk, lift my leg, bend down to put shoes on, and eat! My energy level is back. No more toxins getting into my body. The surgeon drained 17 ounces of fluid (530cc), which is equal in weight to a little over one pound, or a bottle of soda. It's almost the same as a five month old baby. So I'm delighted to have gotten rid of this excess weight. Now my stomach feels so flat I can't get used to it. I feel like it's glued to my back.

The bad news - I will need this surgical procedure in the future and very likely on a regular basis. But I suppose as long as it's not cancerous (I hope!) and I'm not going to die from it, I can live with it.

Then came the next piece of news, which I can't quiet pin down whether it'd be considered good or bad. Our offer from Wednesday was accepted. No fights. No arguments. No hackling with the other offerer. It's down to just passing the house inspection, lead inspection and house appraissal, and we have a house! I can't believe it. Things are going way too quick now.

I got back home and checked my email and found the last piece of good news for the week - the class I taught in November was the third ranked class of 19 classes given that day at the company training day. I was so ecstatic to read the email announcing it. It gave me validation that I can indeed teach.

This morning we went shopping for packing material. It's overwhelming just thinking about it!

Can it get any worse?

This new year deal has become unbelieveable. I thought getting news of two deaths in four days would be the end of it, when I got a call from a friend of mine this morning. She's in her 40's and has been trying to get pregnant for a year. This entire year she's shared with me every moment of her pursuit of happiness. Two weeks ago she called me with the exciting news that she's finally pregnant. I was so thrilled for her. Today she called me to tell me she had a miscarriage.

Two grown adults and an unborn. God, who's next on your list? And can you leave me alone for the rest of the year? I've had enough.

Today my husband and I celebrate our 14th anniversary. I did some quick math yesterday and realised that by the end of this year I would have known my husband longer than not knowing him. That's kinda shocking to realise, so when my brother emailed me the happy anniversary and I shared with him this piece of news I asked him if he has reached that point with his wife yet?
His response was: "no chance ever, men never know their wives !"

Make this year go away!

While still dealing with my friend's death, and reading the messages from his numerous friends, I've been trying to put a closure on it. I contacted his family and spoke to his daughter. I felt glad to hear that he died without pain, in his sleep. I've emailed his daughter and offered my help in sending her the links to the websites that he visited and the places where he participated as a writer.

I still think about him throughout the day, and it may take a while before I get used to it.

But things actually got worse this evening, when I got an email from my best friend in Israel, Boaz.
This is what his email said:

I would have called you, but I'm too tired to speak, and I want to tell you now:
My dad died today.
.....

I'm O.K., as I have great family that supports me. My mother is a hero, but I think she is the one that will suffer the most in the coming time.
Sorry to tell you such news. But nobody lives for ever. I say that dad is still living in me and in my sister, in our blood and cells.

I'm numb from pain and overwhelmed with emotions. His parents were like my second parents. They had always thought that we would get married one day. We didn't because we were too close to each other and were more like brother and sister. I was so shocked from the news, I called him right away. Then I sent a message to my mom to call me.

I can't handle all this pain. It's too much in one week. Too overwhelming. I just want this year to end. Nothing good can come out of this year.

May you rest in peace, Mr. Kahane.

I miss my friend

I'm having a tough time getting back to my blog without my friend around to read it. I've been looking forward to his comments about my father's drawings. I've been looking forward to him figuring out what was that unique thing I mentioned about my father.

It may take a while before I can get the strength to write again. Maybe I just need time to mourn the loss of a dear friend.

Rest in Peace - mtrain

It is with great saddness that I'd like to share the sad news. mtrain passed away in his sleep on Dec. 28th, 2006. mtrain's real name is Martin. He's been my friend for the past eight years. I met him on the internet on a message board for writers. We became really good friends and I shared with him all my deepest secrets which no one in the world knew (not even my husband).

Martin was there for me through some very difficult periods in my life, always selfless in his caring manner. He had his own medical problems but didn't want to burden me with them and didn't want me worried about him.

I had just spoken to him less than a month ago and he was bed-ridden but somehow managed to still comment on my blog. His last comment was on Dec. 19th. It is no surprise that his last comment was one of support and encouragement.

Martin, I hope you're still reading my blog from up there in heaven, and I hope you're no longer in pain. Because the pain in my heart right now is unbearable.

Rest in peace, my dearest friend. I'm going to miss you SO MUCH!!!

I need a drink

So 2006 is gone and I'm thinking back to my new year resolutions for 2006 and how well I did. Here's my grades for each resolution I made and how well I succeeded.

1. Start drinking alcoholic drinks. I'd give this an E for I made an effort. Sure, I failed miserably. But I did make an effort and I think that counts with new year resolutions.
2. Visit Australia. I'd give this an A+. Because I managed to not only visit Australia but include my husband in the plans, and even make a visit to London to meet my parents for five days.
3. Quit my company. I'd give this an F for I fucking haven't done it yet!
4. Pass a professional licensing exam. I'd give this one an A. I passed in June. Didn't make stellar marks on the test. But I passed, so I suppose that's all that matters.
5. Become a U.S. Citizen. I'd give this a A- because it didn't involve a lot of effort and was just about the easiest exam I've ever had in my life.
6. Start the process of having kids. I'd give this a B for I read the Books.
7. Find a house by the end of the year. I'd give this an A for I found A house. Didn't put a contract on it, but at least I found it.

That's where my list stopped. I think overall I did really well, considering this is the first year I've actually managed to accomplish some items on my New Year resolutions. In fact I've even accomplished some things that weren't on my list, but I'm not about to share them in public since they're kinda private.

Now I'm ready for the New Year Resolutions for 2007, which unfortunately has some carry over from last year's resolutions.
1. Now that we've found a house. Moving is at the top of the list.
1a. Actually, strike the line above. Get healthier by February is way up at the top of my priorities at this point.
2. Quit my job. This time I'm fairly certain I'll manage this one, since I'm determined to move on.
3. Start a new job.
4. Go through at least a couple of line items of small construction projects to do around the new house.
5. Get more serious about the kids thing. Now that I've read the books, I should probably consult with a doctor, a support group, a social worker or something. Internet?
6. Make the March of the Living trip to Poland with my mom and nephew.
7. Find new friends in the area where we will move to. Preferrably, find a community of Israelis that I can belong to and feel comfortable with.
8. Which would probably be the most difficult one to accomplish this year - gain weight back to January 2006 weight.
9. Not to give up on alcohol just yet. Give it a few more tries before scratching it off new year resolutions. Maybe I haven't tried a wide enough variety.

That's the list. Notice how I'm purposely excluding anything to do with blogging from the lists. That's because blogging to me is not a commitment I want to make. I do it as long as I enjoy it. When I stop enjoying it, I'll stop doing it.

Here's to wishing everyone good luck with your new year resolutions.

All those medicines and nothing works

Going on Day 10 since I caught the nasty cold and I'm still home and cannot get out of bed. I'm beginning to suspect that it may be a full blown flu and not just a simple cold. Especially with the constant fever and all my muscles telling me I can't stand up. If that's the case, then I'm pissed off at getting the flu shot and still catching a flu! Of course that doesn't really matter, since I'm pissed off period.

Every single medicine I've tried did not work. I have not slept well in two days and I'm beginning to halucinate from lack of sleep.

I watched the Ford Funeral yesterday (because it was on every single channel I typically switch to). I listened to Henry Kissinger, Tom Brokaw and others and all I could think of is feeling sorry for the living presidents sitting there and listening to the words chosen by the speakers. They highlighted Ford's integrity and qualities as a person, and it was almost begging the sentence that was left unsaid - "as opposed to the Presidents sitting here with us!" Everything said about Ford was in direct contrast to what the President today stands for. Every sentence - you could feel the knife going in deeper. All I could wonder is - so what will they say at George W. Bush's funeral?

Mostly, I feel sorry for Betty Ford for having to endure this extremely long funeral over so many days. Poor old lady! I can't begin to fathom going through such a long goodbye from a loved one. It's absolute torture. She has no privacy in her mourning. She doesn't get to walk with her husband's coffin as he's carried around. She's constantly in the eyes of the media.

This wouldn't happen in Israel. Someone dies - they get burried the same day. No coffin. No box. Just the body and the earth, the way God intended for us to be born and burried. The mourning period is seven days. After 7 days, most of the restrictions are lifted for the next 23 days, and at the end of 30 days - the mourning enters the third phase that lasts a year. Regardless of all these phases - the burial is the same day.

A Unique Talent

I'm starting the New Year with a tribute to my dad. My dad is a retired Mechanical Engineer. He has numerous hobbies, and too many to even start listing here, but this is one of his hobbies that I would like to share with others. He paints.

Admittedly, this is nothing unusual for retired people to engage in painting, but my dad is an unusual case of a painter. I'm not going to reveal what it is just yet. Maybe it will become apparent as I upload his paintings each time.

The one you see here actually shows a few of his past paintings all in one. You will see these in close-up in future postings.

This coming Saturday is the Grand Opening of his first art exhibit. It's the first time he'll be exhibiting his drawings all on his own, without other artists. I'm so proud of him! I really hope someone will happen upon this exhibit and will discover my dad. He's got a unique style that's worth some attention. Somewhere I'm even curious if anyone will offer to buy his paintings.

Different haircuts