I’m not sure I am happy to discover we are not forgotten or abandoned. At least by the rockets.
I decided to try taking a walk tonight. It is the pleasantest form of exercise I know, and I can only do it late at night when it is as cool as possible and no one is likely to be out and about. So I pulled myself together, Samantha the dog jumping on my infected toe, just because. We went out the gate, Samantha, Chamudah and I, climbed the driveway and turned left.
I rarely, and I mean really rarely, go for a walk all by myself (dogs don’t count), so this was something a bit special. I walked to the gates of the moshav, the street completely deserted and everything as quiet as, well, quiet.
Just as I reached the portable bomb-shelter at the nada-bus stop (it looks like a bus stop, it has benches and a sign like a bus stop, but the sign is empty and the one bus that comes to the moshav in the middle of the day often doesn’t), I heard the ‘tzeva adom,’ the rocket alert. I was far enough away to not be entirely sure where the alert was coming from, but I was right by a bomb shelter, so I took a step inside, and before I’d made it all the way in I heard the ‘boom.’ 15 seconds my right butt cheek.
It seems that the alert was for the next yeshuv over, a slightly larger community about 2km north of us. So that’s okay. (Yeah, right). Only my smaller doggie, Chamudah, immediately took off for home without me when the boom came. I called her back, repeatedly, and she did come back to me reluctantly. Until the counter-fire started and that was it. She took off like a Japanese-rubber-monster-movie-bat-puppy from hell.
No choice then but to turn around and go home, not that I necessarily wanted to walk much longer if there were going to be bombs dropping around me.
So that was that, until exactly O-dark-30 – that is thirty minutes after midnight – when we got our own ‘tzeva adom.’ the family staggered out into the hall, The Husband rushing in from the small house, my army daughter dragging herself out of bed like a zombie rising from the grave. I hope she doesn’t hate me for that; she did look rather un-warmed-over. She has to be on base tomorrow early, and she needs her sleep.
So we all survived, again. I didn’t even hear the boom or booms, I can’t remember why. Maybe because youngest son had the ipad playing music? I can’t remember. My poor brain starts to shut down with all of this going on.
I am almost finished with my second sock. I started knitting this pair of socks for myself after spending close to half-an-hour standing on the cold stone floors in the hallway one exciting, rocket filled day. When they are done I will wear them at all times, so that, should I find myself stuck in the hallway again, my feet at least will be reasonably warm and cushioned.
It does beg the question, though, how do the floors manage to be so cold in the middle of the summer? I’m sure there is a proper physics-type explanation for it, but it is rather amazing, the air temperatures are *so* high.
Well, it’s is now after 1am, and I want to try to get some sleep, having gotten this out of my system. Never relax, ever vigilant – ’cause two days of quiet doesn’t mean anything where the bombs are concerned.