Don’t call the animal protection groups: I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—what’s the point of having a dog if you can’t dress it up in embarrassing outfits? Here is Terri sporting her brand new fleece hoodie.
Reading the scorecard: Yigal Walt takes on the stupid international condemnation about this operation.
Grads falling on Be’ersheva: Two Grad-class rockets (the mid-range ketushas that were used on us in the north during the the Second Lebanon War) hit Be’ersheva this morning. Hamas uses the bizarre logic of saying that these are in retaliation for Israeli air strikes. Uh, what?! The air strikes were to take out rocket launchers that had been pummeling Israeli communities for months and months! We’re through the looking glass now, kids.
Israeli math: Thank goodness for Kamah Kessef, the website that helps you calculate how much you are supposed to give at an Israeli wedding. With the son of a first cousin getting married in a few weeks, I need to figure it out. Hmmm. That much? Oi. And me without two skekels to rub together.
Nadine update: Damn cat has gone from being lusciously fat to a sack of bones. I now have an anorexic cat. She seems totally disinterested in food, though if I heat up something and put it right in front of her, she’ll lick a bit. She ate about 1/2 tsp of expensive Italian cat food this morning (chicken and pasta, I think). Terri hovers nearby, almost shaking with excitement. She knows that she automatically gets to finish off whatever Nadine rejects.
Well, here we go again: Yesterday we launch air strikes into Gaza. Even hard-core doves like Peres understand the need for self-defense. There has been a huge increase in Qassam and Grad rockets fired from Gaza into Israel. Nothing we have done (diplomacy, negotiations, closing the border crossings, etc.) has done any good. What does Hamas think they have to gain? We pulled out of Gaza and they increased the attacks on us! So what is our motivation to now stop before getting the job done?
So we are doing a call-up of milu’imnikim and will probably have to follow up the air strikes with a ground offensive. Crap, crap, crap. It is horrible situation but it was impossible to sit there and allow Hamas to keep pounding us with rockets!
Not a great way to start 2009…
Leave it to the Japanese: Try this with your pet.
Gelt for the easily confused: The little sack of chocolate Hanukkah gelt that I pick up in the local supermarket is designed for people who get confused about their holidays. Each piece is embossed with lo l’pesach (in Hebrew, of course).
More pastrama, please: Nadine’s abba gives her a piece of pastrama (fake pastrami made with turkey). She eats some with a fair amount of enthusiasm. Terri, on the other hand, goes completely nuts and swallows her piece while dancing on her hind legs. Too bad I didn’t have the camera out…
Menus from hell: Can’t receive faxes. Can send. Spent an hour trying to troubleshoot. Turns out that buried deep in a multi-nested menu system is a setting that blocks faxes where caller ID isn’t showing. Sigh. Since most companies in Israel use switchboards that block caller ID, this is not a smart default! Still, this is what we call a cockpit error (i.e., the pilot’s fault, not the plane’s). Color me stupid.
Nadine fresses on treif: Yes, it is that pork-flavored medical food from the vet that she seems to like. Warm, mind you. Girl is now eating a few tiny portions a day and seems to be OK. I no longer risk cutting my hand on her backbones while patting her! She scores a heat-able gel pack (microwavable heating pad) for Hanukkah, while Terri gets a fleece-lined raincoat (which she tried out yesterday in the rain).
Happy Hanukkah! I eat my annual soufgania and feel ill. Why do I do this every year? It is a horrible compulsion. The greasy, sugary mess always sits in my stomach like a rock, yet the next year I feel compelled to do the same thing again. It is said that we celebrate the miracle of the small jar of oil that lasted for eight days by eating deep-fried food that sits in our guts for eight days… But if anyone wants to share a healthy recipe for latkes (there are baked versions instead of fried), be my guest.
No trains! They are working on the system (which I wouldn’t have known about if I hadn’t received a call from GS, mucho gracias). So I am forced to make this long, nasty drive, 130 km, mostly on bad roads with insane drivers. I actually saw a guy backing up on the highway. No lie. Tailgating is de rigour, as is speeding, passing on curves, flashing high beams, and generally acting like a deranged maniac. While it takes me about an hour and forty minutes to get here on an early Friday AM, it can take up to two-and-a-half hours to get home. Urg!