10 Things I Love/Hate

“Ok, so here are the instructions:

List 10 things I love and 10 things I hate – then nominate 10 fellow bloggers to do the same.”

1. My family (husband, kids, siblings)
2. The tiny moshav I live on
3. Critters, all sorts
4. Deep dish pizza
5. Cheesecake
6. Books, all sorts
7. Travel
8. Music
9. Making things from scratch
10. Israel

1. Being lied to
2. Being told ‘I’m not like you’
3. People with no restraint, who spew the vilest insults and then justify it (there is NO justification)
4. Factory farming, particularly chickens
5. People who try so hard to be ‘perfect’ that they look and seem plastic
6. Racial stereotypes
7. Walmart & Gap (the triangle shirtwaist factory fire revisited 100 years later)
8. Pollution, all sorts
9. Cockroaches
10. Driving in Jerusalem

OK, nominating people seems to take more spoons than I have left, so please, volunteer if you want to and let me know if you do, okay?

It’s another day

I am in so much pain.  Not what I want to write about, but I have to get it out there, rather than have it eating at me behind the scenes.


I’ve had an amazingly active week by any count.  Sunday all day spent out of the house and shopping and dog’s surgery.  I can barely remember Monday and Tuesday we celebrated our 11th anniversary in Israel.  Wednesday I can’t remember because Thursday I left the house mid-morning to spend the day in Tel Aviv, Sheba hospital specifically.  I took a cognitive test, had blood drawn, got a laundry list of procedures from the urologist (that I’m supposed to somehow get my local clinic to take care of.  I suspect I’m just going to schedule it all at Sheba and plan on spending another very long day there), and my first day of proper physiotherapy.  Ouch!


Small cakes and photo by my youngest daughter Simcha


This morning I got up and did the exercises I’ve been assigned.  Ouch.  I am not complaining, I really want to improve my general physical condition and the exercises, really just stretches, are all things I’ve done in yoga, or when I was dancing (so many years ago).  The physiotherapist complimented me on my flexibility, which, given that I’ve spent so many years in bed and using a wheelchair is pretty impressive I suppose.


The other thing the physiotherapist said is that it’s my time now.  After years of taking care of other people I get to be centre stage.  I wish it were true, but too much of the time I would have spent putting others first were spent coping with all of my many, many problems.  If all I had was M.S., it would be a whole different ball game.  Well, whatever.  This year’s project is the M.S. at least.  Daily exercises, weekly physiotherapy (all of this depends on the !#$^*&*$ wheelchair van, which, of course, I don’t have yet, but I’m being positive…), possible relief from urinary tract difficulties.  Also hoping to get the second eye (cataracts) taken care of, and get my blood sugar back to levels that don’t make the doctor stroke her prescription pad lovingly.  What, they really do love their prescriptions, don’t they?  Some of them, anyway.


The exercises seem to be a major boost on the blood sugar front, it’s down almost 30 points from two days ago.  My blood sugar was never *that* high, so I’m actually reasonably close to a level that I can live with.  Not perfect, but better.


But heavens, am I really writing a blog post all about my physical problems, like some *other* old lady?  How did that happen?  😉


I remember in the movie Postcards from the Edge, Shirley MacLaine is playing the 60yo mother of a 40yo character played by Meryl Streep.  Shirley MacLaine’s character insists that she is ‘middle-aged,’ and Meryl Streep’s character responds “How many 120 year old women do You know, mother?”


So I am old, and proud of it.  So much better than the alternatives.  🙂  Also, my life has been one of constant and unceasing improvement.  Why would I want to go back to a time when I was uncertain, lacking in experience and self-confidence?  Youth is (to quote a phrase) wasted on the young.  Except that I doubt I’d know what to do with youth if I had it now.  Yes, a stronger, healthier body would be nice, but outside of that?  I’ll take age, experience, whatever inner peace I’ve managed to make for myself.


I’ve no idea where I go from here.  I’m not quite ’empty-nesting’ yet, I’ve still got one teenager in the house; but when I think ahead, I have no idea what will come next, or even what I’d like to come next.  I would like to travel some more but that is completely dependent on my physical condition.  Maybe it will happen, maybe it won’t.  Whatever happens, it will be an adventure.  I’ve never had a predictable life, and while sometimes I really prayed for the stability and simplicity of a ‘normal’ life, I seriously doubt I’m going to start having one now.  Whatever comes next, I am going to work on enjoying the experiences, moving forward in the way that is most necessary for me, spiritual growth.


This past year has been incredibly tough on me, and left me feeling as if I had nothing worthwhile to contribute, and perhaps no purpose at all.  I need to put one foot in front of the other.  Do the next right thing.  Eventually (I have faith) it will emerge, whatever it is that I seem to be missing right now.  That’s the plan, such as it is.


The Husband removed the drainage tubes that were in the dog’s leg following her surgery.  One blessing of how we’ve lived our lives is an amazing array of areas in which one or the other of us has some competence.  There is very little that we need to run to some ‘expert’ for.  We did hire an electrician after lightening fried one of the electrical outlets, but we’d needed help already because whoever had wired the house originally did such a messed up job that TH found himself with a live wire that he couldn’t even figure out where it connected from/to.  We’re having someone come in and do the bathroom(s), but that is a case of money vs. time.  TH could do the work, but this way it gets done quickly and (hopefully) with minimal disruption.  As if redoing the whole bathroom could be done with out major upheaval.  *sigh*


It’s not happening yet, anyway.  We’re still waiting on the circling carrots of money, wheel chair van, and safe room.  The circle, like vultures, never quite arriving, but never out of sight.  I am tired of being on hold.  Time to go work on fixing the blanket – I brought it with me to the hospital yesterday and discovered that I had totally messed up the pattern – I have one more row to sort out and then I’m moving forward again.


TH is working on the mirpesset (deck/porch) today.  He finished the last bit at the back of the house.  Still need to fill in railings and put a ramp at the back.  He already put a ramp at the front of the house.  Isn’t he wonderful?  He’s also moving the washer and dryer to a more suitable location behind the house.  It is so nice to have things getting done, improved, made better.  I found a couple of stuffed animal containers and gave one to youngest son for his collection.  The other needs to be cleaned (looks like a bit of bird poop), then I’m going to put my collection of stuffed critters in there.  They are really good to have when small children come to call.  It does happen, sometimes.

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Photos and door decoration by Simcha


I guess that is enough from me today.  Going to rest this shabbot for sure. Be well, all, and Gd bless

Knitting love into a Chantilly lace shawl

I’m not sure why my last post had no title – I gave it one.  Well, it is a learning process for sure.


I was asked to write something about what happened between me and my middle son and daughter-in-law.  I really didn’t and don’t know.  There is a long and tedious story.  I had some emotional trauma, not related to ms and dil, which makes the beginning fuzzy.  Added to that is the fact that from the beginning of what *I* perceived as problems until today neither ms nor dil has been willing to just *tell* me what the problem(s) are/were from their point of view.


Suffice it to say that after too much of really difficult and unpleasant -what do I call it, encounters?- with assorted ugliness including dil using the *f* word at me and telling me I’m not worth getting to know … ms told me they would have nothing further to do with me and I was not to make any attempt to have any contact with them.  Imagine my relief!  No, seriously, I feel terrible about the whole thing from start to finish, but what part of it, if any, is mine I haven’t the foggiest.  And most likely won’t until/unless one of them chooses to enlighten me in what way I hurt and/or offended them.  I mean besides the obvious of not being willing to just accept being cursed out.


In the meantime, I’ve been dealing with the trauma of a quite literally sadistic doctor, working on improving my health, moving house, helping youngest daughter transition from being in the army, continuing to homeschool my youngest son, and generally having a life.  It breaks my heart to be cut off from them, but not from what I can only call the abuse.


Despite our estrangement, I had promised to make dil a lace shawl from some lovely bamboo silk yarn I found that I really love.  She chose the colours, and at one point ms and I had worked out a pattern that he and I thought that she would like.  Unfortunately in everything else that’s gone on, I lost track of the lace patterns chosen, and realized that trying to do vertical stripes, as we had discussed at the time, would be both too time consuming and too fiddly for me in my current condition.  So instead I made a Chantilly lace shawl that (I have to say, as I shouldn’t) I really think is most beautiful.  I loved making it, lots of fun, and I love how it looks.


Following ms’s restrictions, I made no attempt to contact them but relied on someone else to deliver the finished shawl to dil.  I don’t know what she thought, if she liked it, hated it, set fire to it, whatever.  That is not my problem.  I promised and I finished this shawl.  Let it be one last nice thing that I got to do.


My middle daughter modeling dil’s shawl:

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Be well, all, and Gd bless