Thursday, September 28, 2006


I'm not a religious person. Sometimes I think that if my daughter-in-law knew what I ate, she'd never let me kiss the babies again.

But, I am a believer. And G-d and I have a running conversation that has been going on for years and years. Once in a while, I get the feeling, that when He's bored, G-d comes to watch me in my kitchen.

And G-d knows, He has a wicked sense of humour. You know that second when your hand slips and the bottle of olive oil starts to flow across the kitchen floor? Or, my second favourite, when that egg falls and cracks open by your feet?

Those are the times I look upwards and whisper, 'Cute, G-d. Not funny. But cute.'

I love having a kosher home. I love that everyone can eat comfortably in my house. And I have always treasured the holidays and the different food and customs each brings.

I guess you could call me 'flexidox'.

A dear friend wrote me the other day and asked why, when Jews are praying so hard on Yom Kippur, that G-d inscribe them for another year in The Book of Life...and why, when Jews are facing their sins and asking forgiveness...and why, on this Day of Atonement, when Jews are fasting... we wish each other an easy fast? Tsom Kal. צום קל.

Made me stop and think.

I asked my oldest son, the religious one, and he said that only secular Jews wish each other an easy fast. Is that true? Are we...the uncovered head group... looking for an easy way out? While the black hats and kippa srugah fellows aren't? Are they busy beating their breasts while we are counting the minutes till we can have our honey cake and tea?

I read tehilim every day...psalms. It all started when my youngest was in the army and got sick. As time passed, I became more and more frantic to get him to a good doctor and find out what was wrong with my baby. But the army marches to the beat of a different drummer then mom's do. We march according to our heart and when we get scared they beat very fast.

So, I turned to my daughter-in-law who we transported from Bnei Brak and asked her,
'Honey, when you say tehilim, will you please send a prayer for my baby?'
'Marallyn, it will mean a lot more if that prayer comes from his Mother.'

Tricky!!! Now what? I was stuck. So, I started. A little here and a little more there. And the strange thing was I liked it. It felt right, this psalm business. Jewish Meditation.

Then I started making deals with G-d.
'Listen, Lord. If You will make sure my baby is all right, I'll...'

Oops. You don't make a deal with The Lord and then put it in your pocket and sit down on it. I mean, it's not like a TV program where if you don't like what's behind door number three, you can exchange it for the contents on the big box on the stage.

So, I figured my safest deal was to promise to say tehilim every day. And in all the years since, I may not have had time to say them all but I get to them. Except one strange day when I forgot and had to go to the Rabbis for advice. Ptew, I'm safe.

So, here I am a flexidox Jew, who reads tehilim (and now I'm stuck with Perek Shirah too, don't English translation and it's all about crickets or something talking to God. Supposed to be really heavy stuff. I kinda like it) and fasts on Yom Kippur.

And horrors, of horrors, my fast has always been an easy one, tfu tfu tfu. Well, except for one year when I drank too much water and didn't think I would make it home safely from Shul. But, that's another story.

So, is my fast easy because I'm not suffering enough? Because I don't have enough sins to atone for? Impossible!!!

Am I insulting you when I send out those emails hoping that you are all inscribed in the Book of Life once again for another year? And that that year be a sweet and healthy one? And that you all have a tsom kal, an easy fast?

I hope not. Because that's really what I wish you. A sweet year. A healthy year. A year of happy days and peaceful nights. A year of simchas. And an easy fast.

G'mar Hatima Tova.

Have a great day...stay safe...and thanks for dropping in.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006


I recently received an email from a dear friend named Thunder. Go visit Mary Elizabeth Thunder and meet one of the most amazing women I have been blessed to call friend.

After reading 'Under the Burqa', I thought...
'There but for the grace of God, go I'

For those of you who know me, you know how difficult it is for me to keep my mouth impossible it is for me not to laugh out loud...and how desperately I believe in freedom of choice for both women and men...

Under The Burqa

imagine a huge dark piece of cloth
hung over your entire body
like you were a shameful statue
imagine there's only a drop of light
enough to know there is still daylight for others
imagine it's hot, very hot
imagine you are being encased in cloth,
drowning in fabric, in darkness.
imagine you are begging in this bedspread
reaching out your hand inside the cloth
which must remained covered, unpolished, unseen
or they might smash it or cut it off
imagine no one is putting rupees in your invisible hand
because no one can see your face
so you do not exist
imagine you cannot find your children
because they came for your husband
the only man you ever loved
even though it was an arranged marriage
because they came and shot him
you tried to defend him and they trampled you
four men on your back
in front of your screaming children
imagine you went mad
but you did not know you were mad
because you hadn't seen the sun in years
and you remembered your two daughters vaguely
like a dream the way you remembered sky.
imagine muttering as a way of talking
because words did not form anymore in the darkness
and you did not cry because it got too hot and wet in there.
imagine bearded men that you could only decipher
by their smell
beating you
because your socks were white
imagine being flogged in the streets
in front of people you could not see
imagine no peripheral vision
so like a wounded animal
you could not defend yourself
or even duck from the sideward blows
imagine that laughter was banned
throughout your country and music
and the only sounds you heard
were the muffled sounds the azun
or the cries of other women flogged
inside their cloth, inside their dark.
imagine you had no place to live
your only roof was the cloth
as you wandered the streets
and this tomb
was getting smaller and smellier every day
you were beginning to walk into things
imagine suffocating
while you were still breathing
imagine you could no longer distinguish
between living and dying
so you stopped trying to kill yourself
because it would be redundant
imagine me inside the inside
of the darkness in you
i am caught there
i am lost there
inside the cloth
which is your head
inside the dark we share
imagine you can see me
i was beautiful once
big dark eyes
you would know me.

From The Vagina Monologues

Any culture that treats women this way should not be tolerated. No people who think that this is acceptable behaviour should be encouraged. And...unless we are all careful...the rest is too scary to put into words.

Have a great day...stay safe...and thanks for dropping in.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006


I just received an email from a friend with a photo of an Ontario license plate. As a former Windsorite, I took notice.

It said:


Took me a second.

Then I roared. My kinda guy. This plate was almost as good as the one another Canadian friend of mine has.

Hers says: BSEDER.

I think every license plate in Israel should have SAVLANUT on it...patience.

So, did I ever tell you how, when my two oldest were babies, I signed up for the Open University to learn Arabic? I figured, that in every country you should know how to say, 'Where is the bathroom?' and 'Don't kill me!'

With two little ones, I couldn't take a class, but the Open University was perfect. You study at home and have the name and phone number of a teacher in case you need help. You can also meet once a week, but I wasn't looking for a degree or anything, I just wanted to learn the language.

Imagine my joy when the box of books finally arrived. Yahooooo.

I grabbed my pencil, opened my notebook and turned the first page. IT WAS ALL IN HEBREW!!!

Oy! I never thought of that. Of course the course was in Hebrew. This is Jerusalem. In Israel.

Don't ask!

It looked something like this: אינטה מג'נון (inteh majnun) which loosely translated into Hebrew is אתה משוגה (attah meshuggah) which translated into Enlish means du bist meshuggeh....wait! wait, that's Yiddish! Which means, you're crazy.

Never one to give up, I forced myself to read the Hebrew, understand what they were trying to tell me, and then learn it all in Arabic.

I am happy to tell you that I got an 83 in the first course. And never continued. To this day I don't know how to say, 'Where is the bathroom?' or 'Don't kill me!'

I can say 'Ahahlan'(howdy), 'Ya Eini' (my eyes...holy cow), 'Ya Allah' ( oh my God),and all kinds of nasty things pertaining to a certain part of a woman's anatomy. But never learned the language.

A pity. See, as a former Canadian, I learned to read and write both English and French and feel that a person should speak all the languages of his/her country.

At the time, I searched everywhere for an English/Arabic set of books. I spoke to Waghi, who worked for my husband. I asked everywhere. I mean the British were here for donkey's years, for heaven's sake! Didn't they have a manual or two lying around?

Nope. I guess they didn't need a toilet and weren't afraid of being killed.

I wonder how you say PBE4UGO in Arabic? Hmmmm, the mind boggles.

Have a great day...stay safe...and thanks for dropping in.

Monday, September 25, 2006


Thank you everyone for your emails and phone calls about Noah. Here is what I know so far. On Friday she was called up before a judge but his decision was postponed until Tuesday. In the meantime she is still in jail in Bombay. On Tuesday she will know if she is to remain in jail until her trial or if she will be let out on bail and be under house arrest in a hotel until her trial.

Her mother flew out Saturday and has seen her. The father still hasn't a visa so her mother and mother's brother flew out. The son was warned not to go as he could be arrested as an accomplice!!! So he is home...beyond upset...eating his heart out. And my son's friend remained home also.

There are a lot of rumours floating around. She did NOT have a gun or pistol, but the full magazine of bullets were for a gun not a rifle. Sixteen bullets. Because the magazine was so small no one noticed it.

Noah was tagged as a very low security risk at El Al and her luggage was sent through. The bag was not a carry-on. When she arrived in Bombay she was cleared. It was when she went to get on a plane for New Delhi that her luggage was scanned and the bullets were discovered.

The scariest thing is that an Israeli tour guide was recently caught in India with ONE bullet and spent THREE MONTHS in jail. Noah had 16 bullets.

Now everyone knows it was a mistake. But she had those bullets.

Her mother has papers signed and translated into English which she took with her.

Her mother spent two hours with her yesterday and Noah seems to be holding up all right. I'm sure she is much better now that her mom is there with her.

Everyone in Israel who knows Noah and who doesn't know her is sick over this.

I will keep you informed as I learn more.

So we add Noah bat Chagit to our prayers.

P.S.The lottery last night was for 25 million shekels. Cousin Sheldon and Bubbie Channah were NOT the two happy winners.

Today they are off to buy another ticket. Go Bubbie!!!

P.P.S.Since I really don't know what to do with myself now that I am among the unemployed, I'm off to the city to buy some wool. Back to knitting those baby blankets and sweaters.

P.P.P.S. We had a wonderful Rosh Ha Shannah! We had 18 for dinner Friday night and a good time was had by all. Must have been as the last people left at about two in the morning. How lovely!!! I hope your holiday was as nice.

Have a great day...stay safe...and thanks for dropping in.

Thursday, September 21, 2006


In the middle of feeling so miserable about my friend's daughter being arrested in India and losing my job cuz they closed the doors, I got an email from a dear dear friend. Itsy has been part of my life on and off for a gazillion years. Today he was sent to put a smile back into my soul.

For all you baby boomers out there...shokkle your tushies while I hum a few tunes.

1. Herman's Hermits--- Mrs. Brown, You've Got a Lovely Walker.
2. The Bee Gees--- How Can You Mend a Broken Hip.
3. Bobby Darin--- Splish, Splash, I Was Havin' a Flash.
4. Ringo Starr--- I Get By With a Little Help From Depends.
5. Roberta Flack---The First Time Ever I Forgot Your Face.
6. Johnny Nash--- I Can't See Clearly Now.
7. Paul Simon--- Fifty Ways to Lose Your Liver .
8. The Commodores---Once, Twice, Three Times to the Bathroom.
9. Marvin Gaye--- Heard It Through the Grape Nuts.
10. Procol Harem--- A Whiter Shade Of Hair.
11. Leo Sayer--- You Make Me Feel Like Napping.
12. The Temptations --- Papa's Got a Kidney Stone.
13. Abba--- Denture Queen.
14. Tony Orlando--- Knock 3 Times On The Ceiling If You Hear Me Fall.
15. Helen Reddy--- I Am Woman, Hear Me Snore.
16. Leslie Gore---It's My Procedure, and I'll Cry If I Want To.
17. Willie Nelson--- On the Commode Again.

Have a great day...stay safe...and thanks for dropping in.


Last night Noah left for three weeks. A little vacation. To India. Everyone is entitled to take a little vacation.

She flew El Al. And when she got to security she truthfully told them that she packed her bags herself. Security watched her and listened to her and waved her through.

She didn’t need much luggage. She was only going for three weeks…and it’s India not Beverly Hills.

Last night Noah asked her brother if she could borrow his bag for her trip. He said, ‘Sure’.

How do I know all this? I have known Noah since she was a little girl. Her baby sister and my baby son have been best friends since they were three. Exactly twenty years. And in all that time they’ve lived just up the street from me. I see her mother walking her dog when I drink my coffee in the morning. When my Milky was still alive, we used to meet in the early morning hours and pass a few minutes catching up on our kids. They went to nursery school together…and elementary school…and high school…and the army.

The kind of family you wish you were related to.

What no one knew is that inside that bag…hidden in a pocket…was a cartridge of bullets. See, the brother just got back from milluim…reserve duty and here in Israel bullets here and bullets there are no big deal to anyone but me and some other North American moms. You should see the pictures of me watching my oldest the day he parachuted for the first time.

Noah got to the airport in Mumbai this morning. And they checked her bags. And they promptly arrested her!

A few months ago an Israeli tour guide was caught in India with ONE bullet in a pocket…remember here there everywhere…and ended up spending three months in an Indian jail! THREE MONTHS…ONE BULLET.

Noah has lot of bullets in that cartridge! They let her phone home. Her hysterical family phoned someone who phoned someone else and the Foreign Office is with Noah. The Indian government has decided to try her tomorrow. She could end up spending YEARS behind bars in some Bombay jail, G-d forbid!!!

I called everyone I know. My friend’s son is the assistant consul of New Delhi. I wrote letters asking if anyone could help. And now I’m blogging the story.

As of this moment, the family was able to get visas today. They are trying to get tickets to fly out. They do have a lawyer.

So, does anyone know anyone or have any ideas what to do to help?

Noah can’t spend years in India. Please, it’s all a terrible mistake!!!

I lost my job today. The place where I have been working this past year has decided to close their doors.

I bemoaned the fact that I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet!!!

Have a great day…stay safe…and thanks for dropping in.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006


I guess it started the day before yesterday. My friend Rena and I went to see the movie United 93. I told you already, I know. I may be a chronic sufferer of 'sometimers' but this isn't one of those times.

This time I am setting the stage. So bear with me. We saw the movie. No happy ending. And, I think, a fairly fair rendition of what must have happened that awful day.

Yesterday, I called Rena and asked her if she wanted to join Bubbie Channah and me for lunch. She said 'sure' and we decided to eat at Neeman, which used to be Sbarro. Yup, the famous Sbarro that was blown up at the beginning of the last intifada. And then blown up again when another suicide bomber blew himself up across the street a few months later.

Flashback. That morning, my cousins Sheldon and his wife were across the street, and my daughter-in-law had just passed Sbarro and was walking up Jaffa Road when the bomb went off. Bubbie Channah called me. I was still at home, cooking as usual.

I turned on the television, and they were showing the map of Jerusalem with a star where the bomb went off. See, Bubbie Channah lives just up the road. In the three years of the intifada she was adjacent to every bomb. And each time it blew her cupboards open, rattled her windows, and scared the hell out of her.

I quickly phoned everyone. As I have mentioned in previous emails and blogs, when a bomb goes off there is still a window of time where the phones all work before the lines are overloaded. I found everyone but my husband.

Still cooking and listening to the news from the television, my heart told me that Reuven was there at Sbarro. His office is up the street in Machenah Yehuda, the shuk, and he often walks to appointments rather than take the truck.

He was there. I knew it. And I was scared to death.

Finally, the map and star were replaced by on the scene, live transmission. And there he was. My Reuven. With all his Prince Valiant curls bending down in the street taking care of a wounded soldier. He was too busy to answer my frantic phone calls.

It took me a long time to be able to walk by that area without looking over my shoulder and putting my personal inner radar into high alert mode.

But, it's been quiet in Jerusalem, tfu tfu tfu. And Sbarro is now a lovely coffee shop and they have a nice breakfast/brunch menu. And it's just up the street from Bubbie Channah, so she doesn't have far to walk.

Rena ordered a cheese toast (grilled cheese sandwich) and salad. Bubbie Channah ordered the same. I ordered a Greek salad. We were half way through our meal when my cell phone went off.

My kid was on the phone. Here is the conversation:
'Imma, where are you?'
'Sbarro downtown with Bubbie and Rena.'
'Get out now!'
'Red, hot alert downtown, get out now and call me.'

My kid doesn't make those kinds of phone calls. And he is in a position to know what is going on. So, I called over the waitress and had our lunches wrapped up and we walked out into the street.

To tell you the truth, I didn't feel better until we were half a block away. And after sitting at work in the Clal Building (another favourite place to be bombed) for a half an hour, I was finally able to swallow normally and finish my meal.

One of the bloggers I personally go check every day (he's wonderful...go meet treppenwitz ) wrote a blog today about 'strolling'. Not about Muslims, davka but about Blacks in the States. And how they feel invisible in a white world.

I don't feel the Muslims feel invisible. Just the opposite. To me they are very visible. And it's their fault. They scare me. I don't know who they are and what they are going to do at any moment.

So, until the Muslims living in America become American Muslims and the Arabs in Israel become Israeli Arabs and each fight for the freedoms and safety of their homeland (America/Israel!!!) then no one is going to trust them or want them around.

My friend Chavah says they are just bullies. Yes they are. With big and dangerous weapons and no value for human life...not yours nor mine.

Today I'm home after sleeping over at my babies' last night. My oldest was out of town on business and my d-i-l invited me to come over and spend the night. What a treat! A great time was had by one and all. Me, the most.

Yesterday opened wounds I thought I had put behind me. I guess until the world stands up to these 'bullies' and teaches them a lesson they aren't going to forget in a long time, we are all going to have to keep hoping that we're invisible and that they don't see us.

Hocus Pocus. Doesn't work.

So, until I can find the magic words, I guess we're going to have to hang in there together and hope that someplace a Knight in Shining Armour is getting ready to rush out and save the damsel in distress.

Till he does, I'm back in the kitchen cooking.

A sweet good year to you all.

Have a great day...stay safe...and thanks for dropping in.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006


Last night I went with my friend Rena to see the movie United 93. I think the last film I went to see was Harry Potter, so you can see that as much as I love movies I am not a big theatre goer.

But this film I felt was important to see.

I had so many questions. How did they get on those planes that awful day, September 11, 2001? How did they take control of them? And what happened on United 93?

After two hours of clutching my purse, the arm rests, and Rena, my arms still ache this morning. I wasn’t even aware that I was ‘white knuckling’.

I walked away with more questions than answers. Oh, I know now how they got on and how they took over and what they think happened. Another scary part was when the credits came on at the end they gave a list of names followed by the words ‘AS HIMSELF’…oy.

OK. So here are my questions for today: How come there are oodles of amateur and professional movies of the twin towers that day and not ONE picture of a plane going into the Pentagon? How come not one tourist was there? How come not one security photo was taken? I mean there are surveillance machines in parking lots and banks, for heaven’s sake, and not ONE in and around the Pentagon?

And since the Pentagon is not a skyscraper, how come not one person ducked as that so-called plane flew inches (ok meters) above the ground in order to hit that building?

And how come no one is talking?

Oh, wait. One man is talking. THE POPE. Bless him.

Pope Benedict had quoted from a book recounting a conversation between 14th century Byzantine Christian Emperor Manuel Paleologos II and an educated Persian on the truths of Christianity and Islam.
“The emperor comes to speak about the issue of jihad, holy war,” the Pope said.
“He said, I quote, ‘Show me just what Muhammad brought that was new, and there you will find things only evil and inhuman, such as his command to spread by the sword the faith he preached,”‘ he quoted the emperor as saying.
The Pope did not explicitly agree with nor repudiate the comment.

Well now! How dare he! (Bless him)

So now all those same Muslims are ENRAGED…and demanding that THE POPE get up and apologize and make nice-nice.

But what I want to know is what exactly did the Pope say that was wrong?

The truth is that not every Muslim is a terrorist…it’s just that every terrorist is a Muslim.

Wake up, little Suzie, WAKE UP.

The chutzpah of them. You all know the definition of ‘chutzpah’…a person who is on trial for murdering his parents demands clemency from the court because he’s an orphan… ‘chutzpah’.

So, as I see it, the situation in the world is like this. On the one hand, we have a bunch of very bad people murdering, killing, kidnapping, building bombs, hiding them in residential buildings, blowing up other people’s buildings, blowing up busses, and cutting off people’s heads in front of a camera. Did I leave anything out?

Oh, yes! And threatening the entire free world. It’s not a secret. They keep shrying it from the mosques, and from the televisions and newspapers.

Exclusive to Canada Free Press and Northeast Intelligence by Paul L. Williams and David Dastych
Saturday, September 16, 2006-09-
Next Attack Imminent: Muslims ordered to leave the United States by Paul L. Williams
Urgent news from Abu Dawood, one of the newly appointed commanders of the al Qaeda forces in Afghanistan:
Final preparations have been made for the American Hiroshima, a major attack on the U.S.
Muslims living in the United States should leave the country without further warning.
The attack will be commandeered by Adnan el Shukrijumah ("Jaffer Tayyer" or "Jafer the Pilot"), a naturalized American citizen, who was raised in Brooklyn and educated in southern Florida.
The al Qaeda operatives who will launch this attack are awaiting final orders. They remain in place in cities throughout the country. Many are masquerading as Christians and have adopted Christian names.
Al Qaeda and the Taliban will also launch a major strike (known as the "Badar Operation" against the coalition forces in Afghanistan during the holy month of Ramadan.
The American people probably will be treated to a final audio message from Osama bin Laden which will be aired some time later.

And on the other hand, we have the Pope.

Dear Pope,

Please don’t let these evil people make you back down too. We have enough of that from our governments all over the world. See, the weaker we seem, the stronger they become. Just like any bully.

You may be the last hope of the free world. And, besides, you’re THE POPE, for God’s sake!

If the final days are coming and if you have to go off to the Crusades once again and if you have to fight off Salah ah Din one more time…somebody better draw a line soon.

Me and mine are doing the best we can, but we are a small race now. But that’s another letter and I won’t go into that right now.

Stay safe…thanks for listening.

Love,Marallyn, from Jerusalem.

So, back to my title…where exactly is the ‘free’ in free speech?

Ahhhhhh, I know…‘All pigs are equal…except some pigs are more equal than others.’ I know, I know it’s ‘animals’ but…

Have a great day…stay safe…and thanks for dropping in.

Sunday, September 17, 2006


I keep hearing on the news about this E. coli infection that has now spread to twenty states in America. From spinach!

Spinach? E. coli? One person died and all kinds of people are sick.

I once had an E. coli infection and it was nasty. On one of my trips back to Canada, my Dad AH got sick and was hospitalized. Every once in awhile, instead of eating the hospital food, my mom and I would go across the street to MacDonald’s or Wendy’s…one of those fast food places and grab a hamburger.

It was erev Rosh HaShannah when I got back to Israel, and I felt awful. My kupat cholim (health center) was still open and I ran to see a doctor. He not only gave me something but sent me down to the lab for tests. To this day I bless that man. Three days later after yontiff I went back to get the results and screaming from the page was E.coli! E.coli!

I immediately got on antibiotics…for a month!...and then did more tests. Thank goodness I was fine. I think it was from the hamburgers…not cooked enough. But, I learned my lesson with chopped meat.

So when I started getting these news announcements about the outbreak of E.coli cases in the states, I sat up and paid attention.

Here is today’s headline from CNN. Online:

Shoppers shun spinach as E. coli cases top 100
POSTED: 10:54 p.m. EDT, September 16, 2006

• Investigators seek more sources of E. coli contamination of spinach
• FDA identifies Natural Selection Foods as origin of deadly E. coli outbreak
• Federal officials say 94 E. coli cases reported in 19 states, one fatal
• Washing does not help, consumers advised to throw spinach out

So, maybe someone can explain to me how you get E.coli from spinach? Raw spinach?

Now maybe I’ve been living in Israel for too long but the first thing I thought of was sabotage. I mean, somebody did something very wrong with those little leaves. Maybe, as my friend John suggested this morning when we spoke, the fields were irrigated with sewage water! EWWWWWWWWW. Now that can’t be good. Who would do something like that with plants that are to be eaten? I’ve heard of recycled sewage water ( actually I heard it this morning from John) being used to water flowers and plants you put in a pot, but not for foodstuffs.

Or…maybe someone had E.coli in a little tube and dropped it into the vat and walked away.

I saw those movies. You know the ones. Outbreak! Or something like that where a guy gets on a plane after being in some God forsaken African village and does something with a monkey and starts coughing on all the other passengers while over the Atlantic.

And the next thing you know, Dustin Hoffman is wearing a white coat and trying to save the world and the pretty lady who used to be his wife but now they aren’t talking comes to help him and when he may be sick from the infection because he was treating the guy who coughs she changes her mind and realizes that she can’t live without him so after they save the world they walk off together into the sunset!


Okay. So you tell me how those little green leaves got filled with that bad E.coli. Because no one’s talking. And if no one has the answer, then how do we save Popeye? Cuz, he’s strong to the finach, cuz he eats his spinach.

Popeye! Listen to me. Go to your local deli and get a corned beef sandwich. Without the cole slaw…can’t take any chances. But the dill pickle is fine. Trust me. All that kosher salt will kill off any E.coli that dares come near the vat. Well, at least I hope so.

Shavuah tov and chag sameach. A sweet New Year to you all.

Have a great day…stay safe…and thanks for dropping in.


Saturday, September 16, 2006


Shabbat shalom. Do you remember when I wrote the other day about Bubbie Channa and the lottery? Well, no one won. So it became twenty million shekels. Then they had another draw and no one won again. Now it’s up to twenty-one million shekels!

Tomorrow night after Shabbat is the drawing. Don't ask the excitement.

Bubbie Channah and Cousin Sheldon are on the phones.

'Nu, what do you think?' (C.S)
'I'm afraid to think? You?' (B.C.)
'It's a lot of money.'
'Yes, it is.'
'I mean, even after taxes, it's a lot of money.'
'So, what do you think?'
'You said it.'

Of course it is fun to dream. But what happens cross that out...WHEN they win the lottery? Then what?

What will happen to Bubbie Channah and Cousin Sheldon? I mean, it’s already twice a week for ten years. And the phone calls.

‘Did you get the numbers?’ (C.S.)
‘Of course! Whaddya think, I would forget to get the numbers? Grab a pencil and write.’ (B.C.)
‘Did you win anything?’
‘Maybe ten shekels. You?’
‘Nu so next time.’
‘Next time is good.’

Maybe they’ll take some of their winnings and invest in something. And then they can check the papers every day to see how their investment is doing.

I invested in something. I got married and had three kids. They are my treasure. And the two babies are my diamonds.

But still. Twenty-one million divided by two divided by three divided by 4.5...
For those of you who didn't read my blog WHEN MA WINS THE LOTTERY, TFU TFU TFU...divided by two is Bubbie Channah and Cousin Sheldon...divided by three is Ma/Dovidle/Me...divide by 4.5 puts all those lovely shekels into even lovelier dollars...American dollars.

Keeps you up at night, doesn't it? Now we're up to $777,777 each. Before taxes. That's still a whole lot of money.

If I were a………..Yiddi biddi biddi, yiddi biddi biddi biddi, bum.

Shabbat shalom. Don't worry, I'll let you know.

Have a great day…stay safe…and thanks for dropping in.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006


Last night, at my writing class, was probably the last time I’m going to see my friend John for awhile. He’s leaving Jerusalem for Tel Aviv for many reasons…both personal and professional. And although we don’t see each other a lot, I really hate the fact that he’s going to be far away.

Well, if you call Tel Aviv far away. Here in Israel, no place is far away unless you’re talking about Hutz L’Aretz (out of the country…usually means America/Canada …usually means someplace that has a corned beef sandwich, a juicy steak, and if you’re very lucky an empty pineapple shell filled with something that will get you farshnikkered and topped off with a little umbrella.)

Where was I?

Oh, yes, John.

And on top of that, the girl who really runs the office at work, left this week. She met a nice fellow from Belgium. Trust me…a very nice fellow from Belgium. And he invited her to join his family there for yontiff. I hope they walk hand in hand into the sunset and smile forever.

But what about me? No, not the sunset thing. I did that years ago and besides, these days I take a taxi.

I mean, here I am with the empty room syndrome once again. You know what I’m talking about. All of a sudden the kids go to college and you walk from room to room remembering when they started walking.

About five and a half years ago we went from a house of five to a house of two! All in two months. Our oldest son decided to get married….yahooooooooo! Two weeks before the wedding our daughter moved into her own flat…ok ok yahooooooooooo! And a month or so after that our youngest went into the army…tfu tfu tfu and a little yahoooo!

That was when I realized that I was a ‘nester’. I build my nest and nurture it and take care of the little chickadees inside and know every nook and cranny of my little place called home. Even in hard times, and there were and sometimes still are, it’s still my nest and I reach out my arms as wide as I can make them and try as hard as I can to hold it together. It’s my nest.

I don’t think I was born a nester. I think it happened when I moved to Israel. ‘Soon I’ll be a stranger in a strange new place…looking for an old familiar face.’ Since then I really hate changes.

But change happens and doesn’t ask your permission. Some of the changes in my life have been amazingly wonderful. But they’re kinda like a surprise. Until you open the package and examine the contents thoroughly, you don’t know if it’s good or bad.

I’m happy for John and the girl from my office. And we’ll stay in touch.

And maybe it’s time for a few changes.

‘Oh Anatevka…’

Have a great day…stay safe…and thanks for dropping in.

Monday, September 11, 2006



I was planning on writing a little blog today about the look of terror the health food store people get on their faces when I walk in to shop.

I mean, I’m a corned beef person not a bean sprout/alfalfa girl.

But, then this morning I received an email originally sent out by Little Green Footballs. If you don’t know their blog then by all means go visit.

Never mind worrying about your shampoo or contact lense cleaner…and never mind worrying about mercury from an old thermometer as written by a great blogger

So what am I writing about, you ask? President Bush, according to Little Green Footballs (lgf) has just approved 15,000… thousand!!! …scholarships to Saudi students for the coming school year. Yup. And the schools are thrilled. All paid for by the Saudis.
And I quote:
Saudis Sending 15,000 Students to US to "Stem Unrest"
From Little Green Footballs
The Saudi government has approved its largest scholarship program in history.
They're planning to send 15,000 young students, indoctrinated to despise infidels by the Wahhabi educational system, to the United States: Huge Hike in Number of Scholarships. (Hat tip: Sabra.)
KING Abdullah, who is also the chairman of the Higher Education Council, has approved a program to allocate 15,000 scholarships for study in the US and 3,000 in some Asian countries.
Announcing this here Monday, Minister of Higher Education Dr Khalid Al-Anqari said this is the largest scholarship program by the government so far.
The program will include doctorate, master's, fellowship and bachelor degrees, according to the Saudi Press Agency (SPA) report.
US college administrators are overjoyed at this windfall: U.S. Schools Compete for Saudi Students.
MANHATTAN, Kan. - Thousands of students from Saudi Arabia are enrolling on college campuses across the United States this semester under a new educational exchange program brokered by President Bush and Saudi King Abdullah.
The program will quintuple the number of Saudi students and scholars here by the academic year's end. And big, public universities from Florida to the Kansas plains are in a fierce competition for their tuition dollars.
The kingdom's royal family - which is paying full scholarships for most of the 15,000 students - says the program will help stem unrest at home by schooling the country's brightest in the American tradition. The U.S. State Department sees the exchange as a way to build ties with future Saudi leaders and young scholars at a time of unsteady relations with the Muslim world.
Administrators at Kansas State University, an agricultural school surrounded by miles of prairie grass, say the scholarships are a bonanza for public education. "The Saudi scholarship program has definitely heightened our interest in that part of the world," said Kenneth Holland, associate provost for international programs. "Not only are the students fully funded, but they're also paying out-of-state tuition."
Kansas State has boosted efforts to court Saudi officials in the last year, flying administrators and department heads to the Saudi embassy in Washington. It's paid off: last month about 150 Saudi students started classes there, each funded to the tune of about $31,000.
Saudi Embassy spokesman Nail Al-Jubeir said 90 percent of the 10,229 Saudi students the U.S. State Department has registered for the fall semester will also get such scholarships.
By January, U.S. government officials say the program will expand to 15,000 students, which means Saudi Arabia will send more foreign students to the U.S. than Mexico or Turkey. As funding for the scholarship program expands, those numbers are likely to grow.
"This is a critically important bilateral relationship," said Tom Farrell, a deputy assistant secretary for academic programs at the State Department. "It's an opportunity to increase understanding of Saudi Arabia for the United States and of the United States for Saudi Arabia."
Now, what am I missing here? 15,000 young men and women in their twenties walking in with student visas? Did anyone check their school records? I mean how many graduated cum laude from their terrorist high schools?
Are we nuts? The last time I was in the states a year and a half ago I was checked at the airport by a lady wearing a red crescent pin in her lapel.
I thought that was nuts. But compared to this, that was nothing.
Oh, Jeremiah was a bullfrog…
Have a great day…stay safe…and thanks for dropping in.

Sunday, September 10, 2006


A little before eight o'clock yesterday morning, I was sitting at the computer, doing some work. when I felt the building shake.

We live on the sixth floor of a very nice building. From my front window I can see the Malka Mall and beyond that the nighbourhood of Gilo. The famous Gilo where terrorists shot at the people daily during the last intifada. Because there is a valley between Gilo and my apartment the acoustics are perfect for hearing every little noise. So, today I can recognize the sound of automatic weapons being fired, tanks shooting, missiles being fired, and just plain fireworks going off to celebrate someone’s wedding. A talent I didn’t have while growing up in Windsor, Ontario.

Now where was I? Oh, yes. At the computer. The building began to shake.

My husband ran out of the living room and asked, “Did you feel that?”

Of course I did. And for any of you who have never ‘felt the earth move under your feet’, I can assure you it’s not a great feeling. For those few seconds you freeze in place and all your senses are highly tuned into ‘fight of flight’ mode. Usually, by the time you figure out what to do, it’s over. But you never forget it.

I remember the first time. You never forget your first time.

The kids were little and everyone was still asleep. I got up early and was in the bathroom when all of a sudden I began to shake all over.

EPILEPSY!!! I thought…I’m having an epileptic seizure!!! What else could it be? It never occurred to me that it was an earthquake. I’d never experienced an earthquake. In Windsor we had occasional tornados but never an earthquake.


I got up and walked into the living room where I saw the piano bench moving along the floor and the light fixture swaying from the ceiling. That ain’t epilepsy I thought and realized what had just happened. See, I’m a college graduate and considered to be rather bright. Yah right!!!

OK LORD. I get it. A little warning from on high? Fire and brimstone on the way?

Every morning I say tehilim, psalms. A long story which I will probably tell you another time. But I really feel good with my tehilim. My meditation time with G-d.

So, I took out my book of psalms, sat in my rocking chair that my husband bought me 33 years ago when our oldest was born and davened.

4.3 on the Richter Scale. An eensy weensy teensy earthquake. But we are sitting on some kakamaymee fault and I was really hoping that YOUKNOWWHO would forget all about that. Silly me. He never sleeps and He never forgets. And in these days before the High Holy Days, He’s making a list. He doesn’t have to check it twice because he’s YOUKNOWWHO and not HOHOHO.

In the meantime, just in case you thought I was getting boring, we had an earthquake folks.

Have a great day…stay safe…and thanks for dropping in.

Friday, September 08, 2006


Twice a week Bubbie Channah buys a lottery ticket and we dream. You know the dream… ‘What will we do with the money?’ That dream.

For the last three lotteries no one has won and tomorrow night it will be nineteen million shekel!!! Even in shekels that’s a lot of moolah. Oy.

So first we share ( you notice I became a partner lol) with our cousins who also buy lottery tickets. Cousin Sheldon buys one and Bubbie Channah buys one. See, we figure if it’s bashert that they win all it takes is one ticket. If it isn’t bashert that they win, even if they buy twenty million tickets they still won’t win.

But by each of them buying one ticket they double their chances.

Don’t ask the excitement on Tuesday and Saturday nights when the numbers are announced. My mom who never bothered to learn Hebrew is a champ at the numbers. That Hebrew she knows!!!

Now back to the good part. The money. Well, don’t laugh, someone has to win and one day it’s going to be us. Cast your bread, right?

Ma has decided to divide her part of the winnings between herself, my brother Dovidle and me. She stays up nights worrying how she’s going to send Dovidle his share. She can’t write a check…what’s he going to do with all those shekels? Finally, I explained that she can change them into dollars and send his share by wire. What a relief!

Tomorrow’s lottery is up to nineteen million shekels. So, what would you do with half of nineteen million divided by three divided by four point four?

Divided by two is ma’s share that leaves 9.5 million. Divided by three…Ma/Dovidle/Me, that makes let’s say 3.2 million to make it easy. Divided by 4.4 shekels to the dollar =$727,273 EACH!!!


Every once in a while it’s nice to forget the four more ladies who are pointing a finger of shame at our President. And who knows what’s happening with our former Minister of Justice who is accused of sexual harassment, and that leaves the Three Stooges, Olmert/Peretz/Halutz, the leaders of our country who just botched up the worst war Israel has ever walked away from.

$727,273…has a nice ring to it, no?

When we win, I’ll call you…don’t call me. I already know what I’m going to do with my share. And some of you are on the list.

You think it’s okay when I light Shabbat candles tonight to ask G-d to let Bubbie Channah win the lottery? I mean in the scheme of things it really isn’t of world shaking importance, but it sure would shake up my world.

A sweet Shabbat to you all.

Have a great day…stay safe…and thanks for dropping in.

Thursday, September 07, 2006


I don’t know about you, but when I get home from work and can finally relax at night, I turn on the television. I have my favourite programs and when all else fails I turn on Fox News.

Since the war, it makes my blood pressure soar to listen to the gibberish our talking heads are spouting, so I don’t watch a lot of news any more. Maybe not any.

So, I was really surprised and upset to learn that Steve Irwin, AH, was killed by a sting ray. See, I’ve been watching the Crocodile Hunter forever. I was happy to hear that he and his wife, Terry had a little girl, Binti and then two years ago a son, Bob.

I watched him with his meshuggeneh crocodiles and scary snakes and every other creepy, crawly thing that brought him so much joy.

The reason I kept watching was that he was always so happy. He had a joy of life that you don’t find much any more. And no matter how farklempt I was here with the news and the terrorists and the depression Jerusalem has been in for the past couple of years, all I had to do was turn on Animal Planet and there he was laughing and jumping for joy. Crikey! Crocks rule! And for those few minutes my heart smiled.

The day he died I was watching him back away from a huge crocodile and I thought, ‘One day those animals are going to kill him.’

Sadly, I was right. So, I checked the news online and found a site and sent in my condolences too.

See, when you watch a program for more than a month, they become like family. Do you know what I mean? I can still tell you all about Mr. Hudson and Mrs. Bridges and our Rose from Upstairs/Downstairs. And Mr. Humphreys and Mrs. Slokum and Captain Peacock from Are You Being Served. And we all have our favourites who we root for on Survivor, or The Amazing Race or Strictly Come Dancing. Family. We don’t know them and they don’t know us but they touch our lives.

Some of you out there are like that for me. We have met online. Have never seen each other in person, yet we share our joys and sadness and we root for each other to make it to the finish line.

Good-bye Steve…we’ll miss you. The world is not so happy any more now that you are watching over all the animals in Noah’s Ark up there in the sky.

Someone has to do it, and no one is better than you.

Have a great day…stay safe…and thanks for dropping in.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006


Yesterday I received a comment on my blog, SOMETIMES IT’S BETTER TO JUST READ A BOOK, about the end of days, from a dear, dear friend.

Chavah and I met online years ago after she read one of my ‘shalom from Jerusalem’ emails during the intifada. Somehow those emails traveled around the world and I ended up with many, many new and wonderful Christian friends. Men and women who, over the years, have become part of my family. People who have cried for me and worried about me and prayed for me and mine. And I am, and will always be, grateful for their love and their prayers.

So, why am I writing all this? Yesterday, Chavah wrote a comment. And I heard her fear. And I heard her love. And I started to answer her, thinking I would write a sentence or two. You know, like, thanks for writing, don’t worry, we’ll be fine, love Marallyn.

But, as I wrote, I realized that I did have a lot to say and many deep feelings about the issue. And, instead of simply sending her a reply, I decided to blog it. Here is my letter to my wonderful, dear sister, Chavah.

I read and re-read your comment, and I know that we’ve talked about this many times. But my friend, the bottom line is this: if the story were reversed and I told you that the end of days was coming and your only chance for survival was to become a Jew... could you turn your back on Christ in order to save yourself?

Because, as frightened as I may get along the way, I can't accept your Christ. Not to save myself or for any other reason. Whatever is going to happen, the Jews are and always have been G-d’s chosen ones. And, whatever His plan is will have to unfold naturally.

And, one more thing...terrible things have been done to Jews simply because they were Jews.

In all of history I do not remember people being tortured or killed or forced to convert to Judaism.

I don't remember Gentile or Muslim people afraid of a pogrom simply because they were not Jews.

I do not remember Jews passing laws to evict non Jews from their country and sent to wander and look for another place that would take them in.

My friend, all I hear is how loving Islam is...and how your religion teaches turning the other cheek and love.

We don't preach,we don't look for converts. Ask anyone who has tried to convert to Judaism and they’ll tell you what a difficult road they had to travel.

Yet, no one can stand us.

I kinda picture Heaven like the Old City of Jerusalem. There’s a Jewish Quarter, a Christian Quarter, a Muslim Quarter, and instead of the Armenians maybe we’ll have Buddist/Taoist Quarter. Works for me!

I do believe that G-d counts every tear and that our breaths are numbered from the first one to the last.
So, let’s hold hands and walk into the sun together.

Have a great day…stay safe…and thanks for dropping in.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006


The other night I couldn’t sleep, and since the television was still on, I found myself watching the Discovery Channel. Nothing unusual in that. But, this time they were talking about the effects of global warming. Seems the general consensus is that by the year 2050 most of the world is going to be under water!

Not a happy thought, unless you’re a fish!

Enough of ‘gloom and doom’ I said to myself, and flipped to another channel. Biography. Nice. I like that channel too. Secrets in the Bible.

That’s more like it, I thought and settled in to learn something new.

So it goes like this. According to Jeremiah, who tried really, really hard to warn Israel that unless she gets her act together everyone was going to be sent to Babylon, we were all in deep trouble. But, (here comes the good part), we wouldn’t be left there forever. Nope, after seventy years we would be free. Of course, in those times that meant that maybe two entire generations would be stuck speaking Arabic. But let’s not get dwell on minor details…look at the big picture. What was it Martin Luther King, Jr. said? ‘Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty we are free at last!’

Happily, I watched and listened. Then the guy said something about chariots and flashes in the sky. Ok. Moses parted the Dead Sea; Lot’s wife turned to a pillar of salt; and now flashes. Hmmm.

But no! Our commentator couldn’t stop there. He went on to say, 'But how do we know that the flashes already occurred? Maybe we are talking about modern day Iraq, not the old Babylon.'

Sitting up taller, I listened. Then somehow we got to Revelations and to Ezekiel and wheels were rolling way in the middle of the air.

And if that wasn’t enough, he talked about some kind of catastrophe where three million people died/would die…dead. ‘And that dear readers can only happen if there is a nuclear explosion which means that the prophesy has yet to be fulfilled.’

Enough! I turned off the television and went back to my emails.

Then last night I got this ditty in my ynet online news for free.
Dr Sayyed Mohammad Ali, an Egyptian astrologer predicts that ‘the year 2007 will mark the beginning of the countdown for the destruction of Israel, a process that will last seventeen years,’ he claimed.

Why am I writing all this, you ask? I’ll tell you. (But, you knew that already, didn’t you?)

Do I think we will all be under water in forty-five years? No. Well, at least, I hope not.

Do I think that there will be a nuclear explosion that will kill three million people? No. Well, at least I hope not.

And finally, do I believe this Egyptian astrologer? Him is a different matter. Egypt and astrology have been partners for a very long time.

Do I believe that events today will have a far reaching effect on the region in the next seventeen years? You bet your bippy I do.

See, that’s why I keep writing about the fornicators and the takers of bribe at the Temple. We have to get our act together really fast before someone up there starts shooting down bolts of lightning and taking back His pillar of cloud by day and pillar of fire by night.

Yup, He just might get fed up enough with us that we end up strangers in a strange new place and, I for one don’t want my babies and their babies looking for an old familiar face. OY.

So, Jeremiah, tell me. Any ideas how we can get the people to wake up and make the changes that are necessary to keep us safe?

Jeremiah! Jeremi…

Have a great day…stay safe…and thanks for dropping in.

Sunday, September 03, 2006


So how come we don’t have a two day weekend? I know, I know… ‘And G-d rested on the seventh day.’

And we have the Original Cast. Adam and Eve and all the rest. I still don’t know how they did all that ‘begatting’ but, hey, who am I to question the sages?

Wait…wait…I take that back. I do know how they did all that begatting, blush, blush, but what I don’t know is who they begatted with. Never mind.

Back to our weekend. So how come everyone else gets a two day weekend?

When I first got to Israel, all the stores closed down in the afternoon for ‘siesta’. From two to four every afternoon tighter than a spy’s lips were the doors of the stores downtown.

‘Of course,” they told me. They, being the old timers. ‘We are a poor country. And we only work a half day on Friday. Shabbat, you see. So if you add the half day on Friday plus the two hour break every other day you get a two day weekend. More! Ten hours a week the stores are closed. Then half a day on Friday makes another four hours. See, actually you get all day Saturday off plus another fourteen hours. You owe me a day.’

I loved the old timers. My favourite was Mr. Zickman, AH. He passed away years ago and the city isn’t the same without him.

Mr. Zickman was my neighbour in the first apartment we owned in Givat Mordechai. He and his wife fought like cats and dogs. One day I was standing with them across from our apartment while we waited for the number six bus to arrive.

When the bus finally came, Mr. Zickman got on. The doors closed and Zickman hollered down to his wife, ‘Why didn’t you get on? I paid for you?’

As the bus pulled away we could hear her hollering back, ‘Who asked you toooooo?’

Another time, Mr. Zickman joined me on the bench in front while my babies played outside. When it came time to go back upstairs I started rummaging through my purse looking for my keys.

‘What are you looking for?’
‘My keys.’

‘In the old days, no one locked their doors,’ he began. ‘Everyone trusted everyone. If you needed a cup of sugar…make that half a cup, sugar was very dear in those days. If you needed a little sugar, the lady across the hall gave you a bag full. Children walked in and out so often that you could have five for dinner or fifteen. A few olives, a hard boiled egg, a shtickle herring. There was always enough. Those were the days. Good days. Everyone smelled like herring.’
‘So what happened, Mr. Zickman?’ I asked as we made our way to the elevator.

‘Happened? I’ll tell you what happened! The Polacks came, that’s what happened. And since then everyone locks their doors!’

In all the years that I’ve been here, I don’t miss a lot. I miss family and friends who are far away. I miss the trees turning colour in the fall and the deep, white Canadian snow in winter.

I miss my two day weekends. And I miss you, Mr. Zickman. God bless you wherever you are.

A sweet shavuah tov.

Have a great day…stay safe…and thanks for dropping in.

Friday, September 01, 2006


I don’t know about you, but I love having choices…like I love getting back change. It doesn’t matter that I just paid a gazillion shekels for that thing I couldn’t live without, but when the salesperson hands me back a shekel fifty, I feel like a million bucks.

This morning when I opened my computer I found that my friend, The Guv, had made her move. See, we play scrabble online. One move at a time through our email. ‘Try it…you’ll like it’.

Well, not only can you play scrabble, but there’s a little comment box where you can write notes to each other, and we’re busy scrabbling and writing across the ocean all the time.

This morning she told me that after eating dinner last night, an old friend called and invited her out to join him for a meal. She had already eaten but agreed to accompany him while he partook of his evening repast.

Now, in the old days both she and I would have ordered a little something. You know. A nosh. Maybe a dessert. Something.

But, The Guv is watching her weight, and as she sat down, she had the choice of going back to bad habits, aka fressing, or not.

And my great friend chose the second door.

That left me here thinking about choices.

Every day we are faced with making choices. Do I buy that, or not? Should I sign up for that course, or not? Do I tell so-and-so they look terrible in that outfit? (That one is easy. Bubbie Chanah told me that if you don’t have anything good to say then don’t say anything at all. And if you absolutely have to say something, then find something honest to say. ‘Oh, what a lovely scarf you’re wearing.’) And then run for the hills!

So, if we, the commoners, have to make choices, then it stands to reason that the ‘machers’ (ch as in loch ness) have to, too.

Then, that means that our President could have spent more time with his wife, instead. Our former Minister of Justice could have simply stood by that lady and taken a picture. Our Ramat Kal, head of staff for the IDF could have listened to everyone and figured out a plan that made more sense. And our Prime Minister…here the list is so long that I don’t even know where to being. To paraphrase Jackie Mason, “You don’t screw an entire nation and end up with phlebitis!”

Don’t you have to pay for your mistakes? Ah, you say, but first you have to admit to them.

Well, my fellow Israelis. Here is where our choices come in. Since the makers and shakers of our country are not capable of admitting that they are at fault, we, as they payers of the consequences of their action, have to point out their mistakes and demand that they pay the price.

Choices. It’s up to us. Do we turn our back on the mess our leaders and the fine-shmekkers have put us in, or do we stand up and do something about it before it’s too late?

I made my choice. Have you made yours?

Oh, and any suggestions you may have will be gratefully appreciated. Except for you Marc, who think we should be wiped off the map.

A sweet Shabbat shalom to you all.

Have a great day…stay safe…and thanks for dropping in.