Flowerpots, refrigerator art, and puzzles

A little tour of our new lives in Jerusalem.

We live in a building in a neighborhood called Katamonim. The builder claims that it's really in Katamon. And government officials call it Gonnenim.

These are our flowerpots

Basil, mint, and lemon verbena

This is our art filled fridge

 And this is the toy cabinet and scooter.

While you may have hoped for a full tour of our apartment, it seems to me that these are the markers of having settled in. The kids are enjoying camp at the local Nature Museum and Don is in his office writing a book. I'm taking a break from the normalcy of it all to notice that there is artwork hanging on the fridge, a toy cabinet filled with activities, and flowers blooming on the balcony. I think that I'll take a deep breath, eat a pear with some blue cheese and celebrate the fact that we've actually made it. 

Never admit to being a Foreign Resident if you want to buy an oven.

First month giggles.

Customer service and sales techniques have improved by leaps and bounds in Jerusalem. Unfortunately, no one told Osnat or Moran in the back room that they were supposed to get with the program as well. This creates a rather awkward reality check after you've had a quick, friendly, informed conversation with the front-end sales team. You see, following this conversation, Moran (or her doppleganger found in hundreds of stores around the area) stares at you blankly,  then tells you you're wrong, then tells Osnat about how wrong you are, and then attempts to go on a cigarette break with Osnat while you stand there laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.  Let me tell you a little tale of how I bought my stove and oven. I enter the store and walk to the kitchen area, looking around at the floor models. A salesman asks what kind of oven I'm looking for.

Me: "I need one that cooks."
Gever: "Try this one that also launches rockets."
Me: "No thanks, I just need one that cooks."
Gever: "Oh, okay, sweetheart, try this one that can also polish your shoes."
Me: "No thank you, I'll just take the one that cooks."
Gever: "Well then you need the one with the turbo cooker so that you can cook 6 dishes at once."
Me: "Hmmm, 6 dishes at once?  How will that work in this 2 foot by 2 foot oven? Wait a second, have you ever cooked? Anything?"
Gever: "So, you just want the oven and stove then?"
Me, "Yes please, that'd be great."

The salesman checks that they are in stock by asking his co-worker, Shmulik, to look at the scrap papers in his hand and double check. Shmulik confirms that the scraps of paper show that my models are in stock. My salesman then writes up a sales note which I need to take to the cashier. This takes all of 4 minutes.  I stand in line as the cashier yells at the 3 customers in front of me. She's not angry with them, it's just the way she emphasizes that she is in control and they are simply the customers with the money.  During my 20 minute wait, I wonder why there are a half dozen other cashiers sitting around and chatting/doing paperwork/making doctors appointments for their kids while we wait on line, but decide to go with the flow since I have time, the guy in front of me has already attempted that battle, and this seems like it's shaping up to be one of those experiences that I will write about one day.

I get to the front of the line and take out my credit card. They need to see my Israeli teudat zehut (social security card).

Me: I don't have one, I'm not Israeli. ***Note to self: WRONG ANSWER!!***
Osnat: Well then, we can't sell these to you.
Me: Uhhhhh, what? You can't sell me a stove because I'm not Israeli?
Osnat: Absolutely not, are you insane??!!
Me: Uhhhh, what would it take for you to sell me this oven?
Osnat: Proof that you live here.
Me: Ahhh, I can do that. Here is my checkbook with my address on it.
Osnat: But your checkbook says, FOREIGN RES on it, what does that mean?
Me: It means that I'm not Israeli. ***Note to self: WOULD YOU STOP WITH THAT ANSWER!!***
Osnat: Well then we can't sell you the oven. We don't even sell ovens to people who live in *whisper* East Jerusalem.
Me: But I live here. In West Jerusalem. This is my checkbook with my address on it. This is my credit card. This is my supermarket club card. And this is the little thingy that I use to get the grocery carts unhooked from each other when I don't have a ten shekel coin in my pocket.
Osnat:  Ohhh! Why didn't you say so?  But we'll have to sell it to you under your husband's name.  (Has anyone noticed that I proved to the woman that I live here b/c I had a thingie on my keychain that unhooks grocery carts?)
Me: You'll have to sell it to me under my Israeli husband's name? Alright. No problem. I'll tell him he has to make dinner.
Osnat: That's funny. Hey Moran, listen to this one. I told her I have to sell her the oven under her husband's name and she said that she'll tell him he has to make dinner!
Moran: Why do you have to sell it to her under her husband's name?
Osnat: Because she's not Israeli
Moran: *Look of sheer terror on her face*
Me: *Brain explodes*
===another 15 minutes of negotiation ensue while I have to convince the store's assistant associate manager-in-training (Osnat's aunt??) to allow me the privilege of paying them money for the oven. This finally occurs when I raise my voice to meet hers, stand up, and declare that she will sell me the oven. That seems to work, she apologizes for the hard time, and offers me some rugelach so that there are no hard feelings. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried.

I prepare to walk out the door and the transaction ends with the following warning:
Osnat: Whatever you do, don't open the box.
Me: Ha, that's funny.
Osnat: No, it's very very serious.

And then he learned to walk

Well folks, it has happened. Mr. Noam has finally decided to walk. He stood himself up on Thursday, at 17 months old, and walked clear across the room. There was no wobbling, no indecision, just one foot in front of the other until he got where he had planned to go. He just stood up and walked. He waited until he could do it right, and then got up and started. And there's no turning back. He walks forwards, sideways, and backwards. He bends down and picks things up, he eats while walking, brings things to his friends and fans alike. He just got up and mastered the skill. It was fairly stunning to watch as I don't actually remember this with the girls. They did the requisite weeks of scooting. Then learning to stand themselves up and come crashing down within seconds. Then taking one step and flopping down. Not Noam. He just waited and waited til he was ready (and his mother remembered to buy him shoes that fit) and then took off.   Granted, learning to walk means that he's now higher off the ground, which means that the bruises and scrapes are taking on a new degree of ouchiness. I promise to share video of him walking soon ...

And Racheli (turning 7 next month) and Hadara (just 5 years old) along with all of their little Israeli friends are completely obsessed with Purim. They both had Purim carnivals instead of school on Friday - games, costumes, junk food, and joy. School is closed for both of them on both Sunday and Monday so that we can celebrate this holiday with the entire country. Racheli decided that she wants to dress up as a girls from China (replete with chopsticks in her hair) and Hadara settled on a ladybug.

And Don decided to join the festivites in red as well

Today, however, was spent with their friends the snails. Our garden is brimming with snails as the seasons change here towards Spring. Hadara collects them by the dozen and can watch them for hours at a time. Sadly, she hasn't quite mastered handling them so she tends to drop one or two from ... well ... too high for a snail.  Racheli, on the other hand, chose two and named them "Snoony" and "Snailey" She found a shoebox, filled it with all the things that the coolest snails on the block have in their homes, and invited them in for the day (she left one side open in case they wanted to visit their friends). 

HAIL in Jerusalem!

On Friday, we drove about an hour from Jerusalem to Kochav Yair where spent Shabbat with wonderful friends, Sam and Adina Cooper. We got to their neighborhood, dropped our bags, and went to the pool. The girls swam for a couple of hours
while Noam and I played in the field outside the pool. The weather was glorious - a perfect day for a swim.  We lounged around all of Shabbat. The kids bounced on their trampoline, we mozied over to their local zoo, and lounged around their yard trying not to get too sunburned. We passed Shvil Yisrael, the national hiking trail which crosses the entire country, and it was covered in cyclamen.

The rosemary lamb was a brilliant creation, the Coca Cola Chicken was a treat for everyone.

And then we returned to Jerusalem after Shabbat under the cover of night.  We woke up this morning to a desert sand storm, followed by blustery rain, followed by ... HAIL!! It's been hailing for hours now. Big pelting, noisy smashing, tinny tapping HAIL. 

And poor Noam keeps getting woken up with a start by each clap of thunder. My Baby Barometer is not happy, to say the least. The skies are rumbling and he's roaring.  Poor guy. 

I think we'll go back to Kochav Yair.  Fast.

Agam Motza

On Friday afternoon, Racheli and I went on a hike with our next door neighbors to a beautiful spot called Agam Motza - the Beit Zayit reservoir. It's just under Beit Zayit, hidden in the hills between Ein Karem and the Sorek Valley. There's a man-made dam there and the water backs up into a sweet lake, with lush foliage on the banks. As we're in the midst of the rainy season in these parts, the banks were super muddy. We spent 2 hours sloshing around in the mud with plenty of flops and giggles.

Racheli enjoying the afternoon

 Just above the banks of the dam is a moshav called Beit Zayit, one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in the area. One of the families of Beit Zayit owns a horse farm, and the girls had a wonderful time going up to see the horses.


Our next door neighbor, Lia, with Racheli



Take a look at what Racheli is holding in this photo - it's a porcupine quill! 

Thanks to Don who held down the fort for the few hours before candlelighting so that Racheli and I could go on this completely rejuvenating hike and come into Shabbat with clear minds and plenty of energy. 

Day One Without Abba

Abba got off safe and sound to the States, tiptoed out in the middle of the night.  And then Noam woke up. 4 times. It was like a bad joke.  He did finally go back to sleep soundly at around 5, but that was the first reminder that I am single parenting for a little while over here.  It makes me thankful for the zen-like balance that usually exists in my life.   Dear Don, Thanks for getting up in the middle of the night with the baby. Love, Debra.

And it's a rainy, rainy day. The first one of the year.  But our great carpool partners called to ask if it would be okay if they came to pick up the girls today in their car rather than having me drop them off at their house. They knew that Don was leaving town and are lovely and thoughtful. Hooray for good carpool friends.  Racheli got off without a hitch. Hadara and I waited politely for Noam to wake up (7:45) and then the three of us dripped into our car. Noam's teacher met us at the car so we wouldn't have to park and bring him in (!) and then Hadara and I sang our way over to her school.

Once all children were in their proper places, I returned home and did what any reasonably sane single parent on sabbatical would do in this situation.  I climbed back into bed. 

It seems like Don's flight has landed in Amsterdam as expected and in celebration, I am polishing off the pot of beautiful chicken soup from Shabbat.  The dinner menu is set for the week, the girls' school clothes are all layed out, the dishes are done (for now).  I will continue to lay low, stockpile my strength, and prepare for the unexpected hiccups this week has in store for us.

Friday's Blustery Winter Soup

For anyone suffering from the Blustery Winter Blues, I highly recommend the following concoction. I also highly recommend having Friday's off, so that these concoctions can get concocted. Love from Jerusalem, Debra

Debra’s Super Yummy Israeli Tomato Vegetable Soup

Splash of canola oil for sautéing onions

2 onions, diced

3 zucchini, diced

1 or more carrot, diced

3 stalks celery, diced

2 tomatoes, chopped

6-10 leaves of beetroot, whites diced and leaves sliced into bite-size strips [or spinach if beetroot is not available]

2 teaspoons each of chopped garlic, cilantro, and basil

One small container of tomato paste – around 260 gram

Osem chicken soup mix (pareve)

½ cup red wine

½ jar of your favorite tomato sauce – around 13 ounces (400 gram)

Can of chick peas

Can of black beans (insert any bean that you like here, think of minestrone soup and tinker accordingly)

7-14 Frozen kubbeh, depending on number of people you want to feed [If you don’t have access to kubbeh, consider adding pasta and turning this into a minestrone soup]



Heat oil in bottom of large soup pot. Add diced onion and sauté til translucent (around 3-4 minutes), add diced zucchini, carrot, celery, beet root (white part only) and spices if frozen now, and sauté for 2 minutes. [If spices are fresh, add with liquid.] The diced veggies should take up 1/3 to ½ of the pot. Cover with water and add 1 container tomato paste. Bring to a boil and let simmer for 30 minutes. Add ½ jar of tomato sauce, red wine, and osem pareve chicken soup powder to taste. Add chick peas, black beans, and beetroot leaves and simmer for about 20 minutes. Add kubbeh and cook for at least 40 minutes or as long as you’d like. I cooked mine for about 3 hours and it thickened into an amazing broth, chock full of veggies in every bite. Made around 12 servings.