No Hair Raising News Here, Thank Goodness

I walked down Canada Gardens a little after eight o'clock this morning. I heard crows and pigeons, but no songbirds. Perhaps the songbirds only sing at dawn and sunset. The sky was a little overcast and there was a lazy breeze.

Arlan and I met and sat at opposite ends of a bench and chatted. There were lots of cute dogs out for walks. We were particularly charmed by a happy, brown and white, furry fellow who was smelling everything! We said "Shalom" to his owner, who explained that the doggy had been inside too long and was full of energy.

Arlan instructed me in pairing my phone with the earbuds he had given me two days ago. No luck. (If I touch technology, you can be sure it won't work.)

Afterward, we each did our shopping. I found apple-filled pastries at the bakery and matza at the grocery shop. They let me open a giant, Sefardi-family-size box and take a single packet of sixteen matzot.

Grocery store employees have been taking too many risks for us. I was pleased to see one of the stockers was wearing a dental assistant mask: a big, plastic face plate depending from a headband. Unfortunately, she was the only employee using that level of protection. The cashier bare-handedly gave me my change.

Before I had gone into the bakery, I saw a parrot and a dog sitting by a man on a bench. When I left the little shopping area, the man was wearing tallit and tefillin, and holding a siddur. (He's a lefty.)

Davenning solo with parrot and puppy

After I came home, I did laundry, and hung it on the rack in my open doorway to dry. I was glad to have the door open; it was a warm day and my mazgan isn't working. I also tried to sweeten strawberries with vinegar and two tiny packets of sugar; I need to buy more sugar tomorrow.

Shiputzim (remodeling) continues somewhere in the building. The constant hammering of a drill on cement blocks... it should be the theme song of Israel.

I wrote my keywords for the fourteen Pentacle cards in the little book that Carolyne had given me after my first surgery, then called it a day. It seems there's plenty of time-- knock on wood-- to write down the rest.

Ran (Ronen?), the volunteer who helps olim, called me about applying for unemployment. He said I should have received an email if the Dan Hotel applied for me; I had not. I texted my boss, Ayoub, and then tried to get into the website of Btuach Leumi (more or less equivalent to U.S. Social Security).

Nothing enrages me like automated phone lines and Israeli websites. I got over it, but unfortunately, now all my neighbors on the fifth floor know that think Israel is one of those countries Trump infamously referred to. My door was wide open as I did an excellent imitation of my father.

Ayoub returned my text and said I'm not eligible for either program. (So why, I wonder, did The Dan have me break the earlier, less strict lock-down to pick up forms from Damien?)

I did finally get onto the site. It turns out that Btuach Leumi is still paying me disability! It was supposed to have dropped to 30% in March and stopped before April. That's one of the reasons I started working in February. (When they figure out I've working, there may be hell to pay... I'll save that worry for another day.)

After that episode, I moved everything else that was on today's scheduled to other days of the week, and watched a few more YouTube videos while eating and drinking a beer.

Oddly, I didn't need a nap this afternoon.

Again, it was a beautiful evening. The hills, the slanting light, the breeze, the sense of being close to both earth and sky: wonderful. A couple was sitting on one of the structures in the archaeological site at the top of one hill.

There were, at first, no cats out by our recycling bins near my building, but I left some food there. A police car, flashing its lights, turned up the short street to Harim Road and then left onto Harim. I heard the policeman say, over a loudspeaker, "Go home," but I couldn't see the people they were talking to-- the couple at the top of the hill didn't budge or seem at all concerned.

I fed cats at the trash cans to the north (on the other side of the outdoor gym), crossed the street and fed a few more along the first steps down into Canada Gardens, and behind the bus stop that's also across the street, east of my building.

As I was crossing the street back to my place, another police card with flashing lights drove by. I just realized now that I crossed right in front of it, not in a crosswalk, with nearly complete insouciance. I have apparently been in Israel too long.

I circled around the two buildings in my complex on my now regular route. There are two trash containers and a construction-waste container. I focus on putting food behind those, so that no grouchy humans will see and complain.

Many of the cats recognize me now. One is very, very sick, with a scraped bloody nose, scratches all around her eyes, and matted, white fur. Someone else is putting food and water out for her. Alessandra would find a way to get near her and get her to a vet, but I feel helpless and useless.

Kids were playing,--probably football (soccer)-- on one of the hills. They actually seemed to be keeping a safe distance from one another.

Back home, I watched Israeli news in English (i24 News) on the television in my new place. The situation is serious, but Israel is in better shape and handling things better than many countries. There are drive through testing sites in Bnei Barak, Haifa, Tel Aviv, and Jerusalem. The IDF is being trained to deal with civilians. (I read later that Home Front Command is manning call centers to answer questions from members of ultra-Orthodox communities that initially ignored or were unaware of lock-down directives.)

There was also news from New York City, where Governor Cuomo is begging medical professionals from other states to come help. Jessica says that in Oregon leaving home is a Class C misdemeanor, but that the police aren't enforcing it. Later, I saw a YouTube video about enforcement in the UK; it did not reflect well on British bobbies.

I feel I'm safer, from both the virus and from totalitarianism, in Israel than I'd be anywhere else. Hopefully, I will be able to read that statement someday and nod, "Yes, I was."

Below is a heart breaking video of Eilat that John sent me. I don't understand much of the song. One phrase is "All the prayers..."

I was so sad when I saw the piano on the tayelet (boardwalk) that Arlan played just a few weeks ago.