Shana Tova!

BS”D

Hello dear readers,

Another year, and another month for introspection and reflection. I have aged, as is the common practice, as well as matured. The advancement of my years has taught me the value of letting go, the value of taking people at face value,and the value of appreciation. (I have obviously learned other life lessons as well, many of which feature on this blog, but I will keep this entry to the appointed three.)

Letting Go

I am a blessed individual who shares blood with some of the most charming creatures to walk this planet. Two of my sisters whom I adore exemplify this trait of being able to “just let it go.”

As a human who suffers from grudge-bearing and an inability to forgive the wrongdoings of others in a timely fashion, I greatly admire the ability to simply forgive and let go. If we are frank with ourselves we know that the human condition is a complex one that involves many facets and numerous considerations. The concept of a double standard, which is very annoying, is also extremely fascinating. It is also all too common and I suppose this year I’ve started to realize why. People are ingeniously complicated. There are desires, there are needs, and of course beliefs and feelings are not to be ignored either. I found myself recently, for instance, shamelessly degrading a group of guests who were all supposed to be coming to a party and kept making excuses as to why they couldn't come. One day before the alleged gathering I found myself just about to make my very own excuses! Why? Because life does happen and sometimes we agree to things we should not and hindsight is so much clearer than the present.

Goal: I hope to work this year on letting more go. Even when something upsets me, to just allow myself to feel upset but detach myself from the particulars and just be upset at the situation. One of my sisters taught me this and I think it is bloody liberating. She taught me that it is alright to be upset when someone was rude to me, but not to hate them forever. I can be upset that something rude was said to me. And yet I must entertain the thought that said rude person was having a bad day. I am not going to let it give me a bad life. This, friends, is FREEDOM.

Taking People at face value

For a soul such as mine it is quite effortless to overthink and overanalyze conversations, body language, as well as social expectations and/or interactions. I am fully capable of spending hours determining what someone “really meant.” I can go back and forth with myself on how I if I just did this and that, and maybe this other thing, then X could come to the party even though they wrote “sorry, can’t make it.” This trait of mine can also lead me to be nosey, arrogant, and altogether a prick. This year I began to realize the wisdom of “staying in my business.” I started to grasp the importance of focusing on myself and that rather than being selfish of self centered, it actually frees me to interact with others in a more meaningful and truthful way. I am a more authentic and honest individual when I stick to the facts - and those I can only know for certain about myself. If I try to respond or answer for anyone else I merely make myself a middleman. Or middlewoman, I dare say. In any event, the exact same is true if I ask a third party a question instead of asking the person directly involved! And that, friends, I have learned, is ridiculously silly. So many issues today arise from things like hearsay and gossip, when had we just clarified with the actual person involved we would have gotten to the truth of what was wanted or needed directly! This lesson I am still schooling myself in. The journey is uphill, to say the least. As many of you likely already know, it is one thing to pen an idea so clearly, and quite another to actually do it.

Goal: To mind my own bloody business. I hope to focus on what I can contribute and the rights and wrongs I commit… and stop busying myself with what others are doing or saying.

The Value of Appreciation

We often get told that gratitude lists are helpful and as children are taught to say thank you. I think it’s important as adults to remember to really mean thank you, and to sincerely consider what it may have taken another person to overcome to get to the exact point in time you overlap with them. I can get so arrogant sometimes, that I show complete disregard for a person as a whole, and get stuck in the here and now where I intersect with them. But I am a mere moment or experience. People are very complex and deep and multifaceted. I think as I learn to honour and recognize this reality, I am more and more thankful. A ride from a friend to dinner may seem like no big deal, but had I known he was terrified of getting behind the wheel, had failed his driving test eight times, and also been in accident, well maybe my “thanks!” would have sounded a little more genuine as I slammed the door on my way out of the car. Or maybe I should listen the first time when someone tells me “sorry I won’t be able to make it” and instead of telling myself how flakey they are, and why can’t they just commit to one thing, perhaps I should just say “okay, well I’ll miss you but I understand. I hope everything is ok.” Because you know what? For all I know her aunt/uncle/father/brother/sister/neighbour/friend/you-name-it has unpredictable chemo treatments and she’s the only one who drives in her whole building so she takes them. Honestly, what do I know? And even if I *think* I know, I need to realize I could be wrong. I must remember that as much as we lie to others, we humans are also experts at deceiving ourselves. I think we would be wise to remember this.

Good year to all, and to all a good year!

Blessings for a year of health, prosperity, and joy.

Wishes for happiness, security, and safe havens.

And lastly prayers for a year of growth, contemplation, and smiles so wide that our jaws hurt.

I remain yours etc.,

Shira

שנה שלמה עברה וקשה לי להאמין שאני פה ארבע שנים! כל יום לומדים משהו וגם כל שנה. הנה הדברים שלמדתי השנה ועזרו לי להתבגר עוד טיפה:

1. לשחרר
2. לקבל את המצב/בני אדם בדיוק איך ואיפה שהם עכשיו
3. הכרת הטוב

שנה טובה ומתוקה לכל אחד!

My Sister's Words: a Girl Wise Beyond her Years

Hello Readers,

I have been on a leave of absence from this medium since I was not sure I wanted to put to pen so many inner feelings of mine for the wide world to see. And yet, I find myself missing writing for the blog. I think I will return, but perhaps slowly and with more careful thought to what I post. Regardless, I wanted to publish here a post written by my sister in January. I was a naughty sibling and did not publish it when she submitted it to me. Today I realized I wanted to correct my error and fix my wrong. I found her column and began to read, convinced it would no longer be relevant. I quickly revealed that my little sister is a very wise human being. The thoughts she recorded to share months ago are still so very true at this moment, and indeed, they share a message I need to heed in these very days and moments of my life. I love her so dearly and am so blessed that I get to share a life with such a wise, kind, and beautiful soul. Without further ado, my sister's words:



Hello Shira's blog :) It's an honor making a guest appearance on here. I've been meaning to write something for a long time and I figured as the secular New Year rolls in that it is a good as time as any.

Always at the time of New Year's I take a step back and reevaluate my choices in life.
I think to myself if I'm where I wanna be, if I have fulfilled my goals for the year, if I'm happy with who I am. Is God happy with who I am?
This year started out with a bang 
I quit my evening job on January first. They had texted me two hours before my shift to inform me that someone else was taking my shift. I told them that that was unacceptable. They apologized profusely but I took that as a sign to reevaluate if I was even happy in that job and the answer was no. So I quit. 
January second I got a text from the lady I wanted to buy a car from that she rethought it and decided to sell the car to me for the price I wanted. I was ecstatic! Finally I had done my own adult business deal in Hebrew! I felt so proud of myself. Me and the owner made up to meet on Friday at the post office to switch over the deed and for me to pay her.
Come Thursday afternoon (less then 24 hours of me owning my own car) I receive a text from her saying "I sold my car today to a close relative. Sorry, and best of luck!. 
In the first week of 2018 I quit my job, and lost my future car.

I decided that this was a sign to look at the bright side. Without the expense of buying a car I had already reached my goal of money for my trip to Europe this summer (God willing.)

When one door closes another always open. 

After quitting my evening job I felt like a new person. I felt free and like I was taking back the reins of my life 
Going from working 76.5 hours to 46.5
I had time to do laundry again, clean my room, go to a wedding, see my mother during the week! It felt amazing.

Sometimes when we are having a hard time, we have to step back and just acknowledge that a door  is closing and another will open soon.
Ride the waves as they say :)

If At First You Don't Succeed, Try, Try again--Wow That Get Old

Hello readers,

Today is a cozy stormy day in Israel and seems like the perfect day to compose a blog post. I've just turned on the official Pride and Prejudice soundtrack so I can get straight to it!

The other day I needed to get the phone number of a specific office. I had previously been directed to call a Moked (I guess sort of like an information hotline?). After much procrastination I settled in to do the task. I called the Moked and was immediately bombast-ed by an automated menu all in Hebrew. It was fast, complicated, and unclear. I tried to hit the option I thought I wanted...but it didn't work. I hung up.  I renewed my resolve and redialed. Again the prerecorded list of options was presented to me and this time I tried to hear it all the way through, concluding that I must have missed the "speak with a breathing human being" option. I failed afresh and shut my phone once more.

I hunkered down and called yet again, my resolve staying firm but my annoyance building. I tried and tried to puzzle out the meanings of the lavish verbs and nouns they felt appropriate for the machine to use. For the third time I was unsuccessful in reaching a human being to get the number from and my understanding still disastrous. I dialed the number for a fourth time. The now familiar menu once again said it's piece and I impulsively decided to go with what possibly sounded like the option of speaking with a person if I stretched my imagination very much. It worked! I was put through to a woman who after I explained what I needed was super efficient and kind. The interaction took all of three minutes.

I left this situation in a musing mood. On the one hand I was very proud of myself for getting the number I needed. The whole ordeal was all in Hebrew and I didn't have to ask for help even once. That feeling was amazing. On the other hand, it took me four tries to call a simple line and get a phone number. I'm a twenty-something and I cannot complete a simple phone call. I was disappointed with myself and frustrated that as an Olah a straightforward task becomes such an ordeal.

I realized that this is where I am in my Aliyah. Thank G-d I am able to get many things done*, but it takes me several tries. It is hard for me to get things done correctly the first time, and because I moved here as an already-competent adult, this regression is onerous for me. I have indeed progressed since I first came here when I couldn't do anything and required aid for each undertaking. I am grateful for that but I am still exasperated that I am not as I once was. The echos of a past Shira continuously remind me that I used to be cool, that I used to be independent, and that I used to be  efficient.

As youngsters we are told "if at first you don't succeed try and try again. Well when you're a child and this adage is thrust at you it's easier to take in stride and just try again. But when it feels like you're all grown up and should be able to take care of yourself,  it's less elementary to have another go. Sometimes it's  just a drudge and even though I am thankful I can eventually make the phone call and piece the meaning together, I still miss the old Shira.

*(Please note that not everything can I get done and please don't leave this post thinking that I completely manage and I do get into many scrapes which I may record at another time).

I remain yours etc,
Shira

On the Vexation of Holiday (What a Joy Indeed!)

Dear Readers,

For all of you who have forgotten me, my name is Shira and I have a blog which you are reading and that I am dreadfully naughty at remembering to post on. Updates are in order as is expected when so long of a time span as elapsed since I last wrote.

I have finished my Sherut Leumi  (National Service) and am on vacation. Being on vacation is so delightful that it is actually vexing. Of a sudden, all the goals and aspirations which a mere week previously I felt and held dear to my heart, have thoroughly disintegrated and I find myself wondering why in the world I should ever return to routine, to studies, and pursuing goals that are so tough. Why not, say, spend my life as a Gardner? Or just read novels all day and all night long?

This is how you find me. Suddenly again at a loss of what to do, and when to do it, and also the question of why do I even want to do it. On holiday i find myself with the time to appreciate all the small things and remember my hobbies and petty pleasures. I have conversations I am 100% involved in and I have no nagging worry. I can focus completely on a task and my sister now keeps remarking on how sharp I am. I wake when I like (relatively speaking) and slumber when I wish and in general prance about as I like and lay about lazily and essentially just do as I please. To exist in such a carefree state is pure contentment! And so I find myself disoriented. I did not expect to feel this way after taking such a long while to decide what I wanted to do. After months of carefully planning and what feels like ages of serving the country I had not anticipated this questioning to resurface.

I had not foreseen myself questioning my life path any more but I find myself indeed doing just that. Questioning, however, is healthy and I am not angry at myself, merely puzzled. As I recently advised a close friend of mine, in my opinion before making any important decision it is wise to turn the ideas round and round in our heads and analyze it from any and all angles so that there is an answer to every single naysayer. I want to know why I am doing something just as deeply as I want to know why I am not doing something else. I must defend my ideals to myself and in this I find myself at present, struggling.

Do wish me luck as I wish to you all. In the near future I intend to post more about my reflections on two years of service dedicated to the country as well as host a guest writer.

I remain yours etc,
Shira

  חופש הוא טוב לנפש. להשתחרר אחרי שנתיים של שרות זה כיף וטוב. השרות שלי לא היתה מסוכנת או רעה בכלל אבל בסיום של כל דבר שעושים לתקופה ארוכה יש סיבה לחגוג ולהשתחרר. אני מודה ל 'ה על ההזדמנות לתרום למדינתי ולתת בתקן שהיה כל כך משמועתי לי אשית. זכיתי  מאוד.

Translation: Vacation is good for the soul. To feel release after two years of service is fun and good. My Service wasn't dangerous or bad at all but for any completion of something done for a long period of time there is reason to celebrate and give release. I thank G-d for the opportunity to give to my country and in a job that I found very meaningful personally. I greatly merited.

On Being Problematic and the Reality of not Giving a Poo

Dear readers,

I think I've changed. Actually, I believe I have become so altered that my former self would not be able to recognize me now (see the title of this post; most shocking!). I am approaching three years of being in this country and I am slowly acclimating to the culture and expectations here. However, I don't like what and who I am becoming.

I am in the process now of trying to attend a summer course while finishing my national service. I shall spare you all the gruesome particulars but essentially my boss agrees I should go and is willing to vouch for me and yet the national service people are adamantly opposed and feel I cannot do this. Without entering all the details, a conversation I had with my coordinator for national service went something like this:

Her: What? No no that's too many hours and days it's really not ok.

Me: Well I have permission from my boss so it really should be fine.

Her: No that’s not enough, it's not up to him. I can talk to so and so but it's really an issue.

Me: Ok but how is it an issue? Want me to talk to so and so?

Her: No, I will. But it's just very problematic.

Me: So what should I do?

Her: Give up. Push it off or do the course later. Or give up your service. It's just so problematic.

Me: *And here is where I really surprised myself* Ok. Is there anyone else I should get permission from perhaps? Are you sure you don't want me to talk to so and so?

In that moment I simply progressed with the conversation. I wasn't mean or aggressive but I was quite frankly unphased. I was non-pulsed by being called problematic. I began to reflect on what my response would have been a few years ago and I was aghast at my composure. If someone had said that what I was requesting or that I myself was problematic I once would have burst into tears. I would have struggled with being a "problem" for anybody. I used to shudder at being disliked but now…now I suppose I'm ok with it. I have begun to recognize that I can't win everyone over. Somebody, somewhere, at some point in time won't like me. I need to come to grips with this.

I am by nature what is often called "a people pleaser." I usually say the correct thing to placate the right people because I dislike confrontation and I can't live with the thought that someone doesn’t like me. I don't want to fight. I want everyone to love me, always. However, I am realizing this is impractical and vaguely childish. Pop stars have been singing about haters for decades and indeed "the haters are gonna hate." My epiphany is "so what?" I am not being lacksidaiscal, I am being pragmatic. I observe my surroundings and I see that on a day-to-day basis I am easy enough to work with. People in my ward don't complain about me, and on the contrary I am told I am very well liked and appreciated for what I do. If I'm problematic well, I guess yes, yes I am. Sorry you'll have to deal with that.

This kind of newfound gall in myself I have discovered is either completely new, or otherwise it has resurfaced from the deep recesses of my half Israeli hybrid self. I guess it's like taking the phrase "not my problem" and going above and beyond with it. When I studied in my course for phlebotomy I was told similar things. My then coordinator was shouted at on the phone for my request to have help translating my exams into English. She was verbally harassed as they told her ever so impolitely that this program was for Hebrew speakers, who did I think I was to make requests like this? This simply wasn't done, and this was the first and last time they would do it etc. We went ahead with it, however, and I am so glad we did as I find a lot of meaning and purpose in my service.

Until this point in my post I was very cool. Until I got a very nasty phone call from my coordinator. I was accused of being a liar, and told off for trying to convince others to lie for me including a prestigious professor. I was very taken aback on the phone and I could hear my voice falter. Still, I tried to understand. I told the coordinator I didn't understand and she proceeded to lecture me on how I did indeed understand but I was just trying to make everything go my way and get what I want. I was aghast. I felt assaulted, violated, and very, very, very misunderstood. I am an immigrant! How    dare you tell me I understand when I'm telling you that I don’t!

And all this in an exclusively hebrew conversation as this coordinator frequently informs me she

doesn't understand one word of English.

Afterwards the coordinator of the hospital came on the phone line and wonder of wonders, this 

woman (who usually disfavors me and has made it clear on several occasions I am far from her favorite person) and she of all people tried to help me. It was extraordinary. She decided to extend her hand and try to make it work. Perhaps she was having a good day? Perhaps she was remembering the time I did her a huge favor and translated a document for her which was totally out of my range of duties but I did it for her since I'm nice? Whatever it was, she decided to try to help me try to make it work.

 I have been writing this post for something like a fortnight and each time I sit back down to it, new events have transpired. I still do not have all the paperwork in my hands but today I physically faced the coordinator who was so rude to me and we were fine. I will likely never understand why we are fine, but somehow we sat down together and there was no drama. She was so insulting on the phone and yet there we were smiling at each other. Showing my face reminded her of the papers and we are once again in the process of working it out. Only time will tell if I really will be able to do the summer course.

I don't really know what to think I suppose. What started out as me being ready to embrace my gall in the first part of this post, transformed into my anger and hurt at being spoken to in such a nasty tone, which then become annoyance and reluctant acceptance of how things are playing out and work here.  I call daily the summer course program to find out if I have more paperwork to do and no one picks up the phone. I try to stay on the straight and narrow, but am scolded or simply not answered. The real change in me is that now, I keep ploughing through because if I don't, no one will for me. I've learned that if  I let people, they'll just walk all over me. Is that a good thing to learn? Is this the proper way to feel? I really don't know.

I remain pensive and yours etc,

Shira

כל העניין הזה מאוד מתסכל אותי. מעצבן ברמות ואפילו שאני לא אוהבת להגיד את זה "אין לי כוח." אני מתחילה לשאול את עצמי אם אני בדרך הנכונה אם זה כל כך קשה ויש בוץ בכל פינה. כבר לא יודעת מה אני ואיפה אני בחיי. כנראה נראה.

Translation: This whole matter really frustrates me. It's super annoying and even though I hate saying this "I have no energy." I'm starting to ask myself if I'm on the right path if it's so hard and there's mud in every corner. I already don’t know what and where I am in my life. I guess we'll see.

  

Evolving Zionism

Hello Readers,

Spring is here! Passover has come and gone, and we just finished another annual round of the
"Yom Ha's," three modern (I don't really find this term fitting but so they are called) holidays. It began with Yom Hashoah (holocaust remembrance day) where I got to particpate in lighting candles at the hospital's ceremony. Yom Hazikaron (Memorial day) followed a week later, and the whole country mourned the loss of fallen soldiers and victims of terror. Immediately following is Yom Haatzamoot (Independance day) where we jarringly go from tears of sorrow to tears of joy and parties spread throughout the country like wildfires.

Of course a lot of thoughts and feelings have been surging through me during these weeks. The whole country is contemplating and this year even more than in the past I've felt the meaning and reflections of these days lingering in my consciousness. This year I felt more like I was experiencing these days from the inside and not just looking in. I hadn't really realized, but these last two years I still related to these holidays somewhat as a tourist. This year I knew more of the names being read, I remembered where I was when these things happened. I was here...in Israel. It struck me that I wake up every morning to serve a country my great grandparents could only dream of. I serve the people of a long hope. I walk the streets of a longing so old I can't even really wrap my head around it. I go out with friends in places my ancestors cried and died for. I sit in parks and have BBQ's in cities and villages immortalized in songs and poetry from ages ago. Me, Shira. That's what I do because I live in Eretz Yisrael.

My Zionism is changing. I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I could call the shots and make the judgments and knew what everything felt like. Silly, arrogant Shira.  This tough little country is wriggling her way into your heart in ways  you had never anticipated it. Her soil is becoming rich and dear to you like you never imagined. She may be small in size, but she is huge. Each step taken here is heavy, it is laden with tears and blood. It reeks of smoke and gun powder. Each stone has been fought for with sweat and courage. The decades blur together as battles of now and then play out. And their sacrifice echos in the wind and is heard in the waves.  People died so I could live here. People fell here so I could stand. People sacrificed so I could be here. The implications are ginormous. The connections are unfathomable. A stranger on the street lost her son so I could take the train. The soldier guarding my border saw a friend fall before his eyes so I could go grocery shopping. The sense of gratitude, of debt, and of responsibility to live and care for the land is overwhelming. How could I live anywhere else?


Bought in blood and tears,
Your currency is shattered hopes and dreams.

Soil is thick in blood and fear.
And sorrow sings from your fallen beams.

Stones cry out in past grief,
Yet your trees blossom on soil won with courage.

Enemies galore, many call you theif.
But truth I know because here I stand and I will not be discouraged.

Today the air is tranquil and still.
And flags of blue and white sail through your sky.

Soldiers protect me from those who want to kill.
And every day I remember those who for you , were willing to die.

To you I came and here I will stay.
Because I am in my land, and quite simply, there is no other way.

I remain yours etc.
Shira

Winter Thoughts (on an Ironically Sunny Day!)

 Hello Dear Readers,


This past week in Jerusalem I had the privilege of enjoying some splendid winter weather. I want to take this opportunity to share some photos I snapped and also to share some of my thoughts on winter weather in Israel.

Reminiscence:
I woke up one morning to my roommate staring out the window and shouting "Oh my gosh, I can barely see past the next house!" I was so excited, and when I saw the fog I was even more charmed. That morning on my way to Service I couldn't stop photographing the winter wonderment. The petrichor elated me, and I found myself grinning unexpectedly at no one and nothing in particular. It's hard to put into words, but when the sky is grey and the asphalt streets are dark with moisture I can't help but feel at home. I feel like I belong in a way I just don't the rest of the time when the sky is baby-blue clear and the sun shines down fiercely on me. I spent so much of my childhood watching raindrops fall against windows and looking heavenward for answers in an overcast sky. The sound of rain is peaceful to me, and I could watch raindrops land in puddles for hours. The damp feel of the brush (the meager amount of brush I find in the holy city!) as I walk past it is tranquility itself for someone like me. I don't find the opaqueness of the fog blinding, but rather it opens my eyes and imagination and paints the whole city like aqueous strokes on a canvas.

When I got to work on this day, there was a skip in my step. When the night shift doctor asked how I was, I bouncily explained that I absolutely loved the weather and was having a fantastic morning. He was unimpressed and asked why I felt so much at home. I patiently explained to him that I come from a place where it rains nine months out of the year and fog is a near constant companion. The weather didn't dampen my spirits at all!

Adapting to Israeli Winter:
In my home state there are trees everywhere and they offer protection from the wind. Here there is no shelter to be sought in the boughs of any tree since the few trees that manage to take sustenance from the sparse rainfall, only yield scrawny and lanky branches. When it rains here in Israel, it feels much more serious and every rain is like a storm with huge gusts of winds attacking everyone and the rain drops feel larger and more dagger-like. Thus, despite fighting much embarrassment and shame, I use an umbrella sometimes. I would never have agreed to such a silly concept in Oregon, and over there everyone could spot a non Oregonian miles away based on if they carried an umbrella. Sigh, I have now joined the dark side.

The driving here is both highly amusing and  tragic when it rains or is stormy out. Growing up in such a wet state, we learned early on in driving lessons how to handle ourselves in hail, heavy rain, drizzle, fog, frozen rain, icy roads, etc. Israelis, however, are shocked anew each time more than a few droplets spill from the sky, and often put on their emergency lights and slip into the right lane so they can go at exaggeratedly slow speeds. The slick roads also are hard for them to navigate, and just about every time it rains there is an immediate spike in automobile accidents, which is very sad.

Last week I found myself on a bus Saturday night and it began to rain heavily. The whole freeway came to a near standstill as most everyone on the road stopped to wait it out. The rain fell thickly on the bus windows and the outside world looked like a mirage. Suddenly, it began to hail, and little white balls were furiously hurled down from the heavens. The whole bus was abuzz and kept excitedly shutting the windows and looking out avidly. The girl next to me excitedly asked me "do you think it's snow or hail?!" I restrained myself, and told her it was hail, because the sound it makes; snow is quieter. In my head, I also told her it isn't quite logical that it would snow mere seconds after rain, as it snows when it's too cold for rain. I thought it was adorable how eager she was.

A last issue I will raise is dressing for the cold. Israelis, bless their souls, don boots and scarves on November first no matter what. In their minds, it is winter and ergo we switch to long sleeves, and heavy footwear. No matter if it's still 60 F outside. Now as winter really does set in, the layers increase and the coats lengthen and inflate, so that by the time February arrives no one leaves the house without looking like a Michelin snowman. And new mothers have it the worst. They insist on en-robing their infants not only with extraneous layers, but also snowsuits! In a country where in most places it never snows, and if it does, it rarely sticks. I was recently chatting with a friend in America and she was telling me about all the snow they had, and she causally mentioned to me how she really ought to invest in a snowsuit for her little son. I could scarcely contain my merriment as I related to her the bundled up state of many of the babies in Israel. :-)


I wish you all the best, and am still too lazy to post in Hebrew from this laptop.

I remain yours etc,
Shira

Raindrops on Glass

Har Herzl in the Fog