Pieces of Me

Storywalk 2009 - Frick Park

2009-09-13T17:57:00.000-07:00

Ivry has a new friend!

Books brought to life at the annual Storywalk in Frick Park. Favorites include: Aunt Flossie's Hats, Where the Wild Things Are and Too Much Talk.

And too many goodies too!
But we all came home happy from this wonderfully filled day with nice friends who equally enjoyed it too and had never heard about it before.

Kennywood August 30 2009

2009-08-30T17:46:00.001-07:00

Carnegie Museum of Natural History

2009-08-09T14:45:00.000-07:00

It was way too hot today to do anything outdoorsy, so we went to....the Carnegie Museum of Natural History, our favorite place! We dug up dinosaur bones for the thousandth time, played "I Spy" with salamanders, snakes and frogs. Ivry found a new friend.

Moraine State Park

2009-08-08T21:05:00.000-07:00

Strawberry Picking at Reily's Farm

2009-08-08T20:55:00.000-07:00

June 14. 2009

We had a lot of fun strawberry picking at Reily's farm. Thanks Tim Allen at the PCIV (Pittsburgh Council of International Visitors) for arranging car transport. It was nice to spend a few hours away from Pittsburgh for this well-anticipated group trip with internationals from all over the world.

Ivry picked more strawberries than his little belly could hold. He ate of course faster than he picked. I guess all kids are the same but with Ivry, it is especially obvious. He is such a faithful strawberry picker! Red hair and strawberries is an especially irresistable combination!

The tractor and farm attractions made for a lovely day. Of course, I leave you with this pictures. Until the next harvest... hopefully there won't be such a cold winter...

Ivry's First Day of Camp

2009-08-08T20:46:00.000-07:00

I can't believe almost 8 weeks of summer camp at J and R are over. It went much too fast and still they are planning some extra surprises for them this coming week so it will be nice for them.

Nothing however like getting on a school bus for your first experience anywhere... really!

Here's Ivry with his old summer camp bag. The weight of those wet towels breaks right through the plastic. It seems like the first day of camp are million light years behind us.

At the usborne Convention with Jim Trelease

2009-08-08T20:40:00.000-07:00

It was a very long drive (18 hours there and 18 hours back) but it was well worth the excitement to hear Jim Trelease, the bestselling author of the Read Aloud Handbook at the Usborne Convention in Oklahoma. I was so happy to get my copy autographed. He is so nice in person!

You can read a bit about his talk on the importance of what it means for parents to build a nurturing read-aloud environment before children reach kindergarten age. I've posted the link at the New Teacher Resource Center - click here for the link.

Usborne Books and Summer

2009-08-08T20:34:00.000-07:00

When he finally gets into the reading mode, Ivry loves the new Usborne books I brought from the convention in Oklahoma. Thanks, Carla for driving us there and back home to Pittsburgh!

There are so many fresh and new titles. I especially love Sebastian's Roller Skates.My new business is slowly kicking off. I signed on 3 new recruits this past week. What a great feeling.

The summer has been moving way too fast! For a few weeks now, Ivry's been going on the school bus with his new blue backpack which bought at Rite Aide for half off. But don't tell him I bought it in the girls section. :-) He loves it a lot! You look wonderful Ivry!

Time to Update Our Blog

2009-08-08T20:28:00.000-07:00

It was so peaceful finally getting out of Pittsburgh last week to see wonderful Ohiopyle. It's been 2 years since I've driven in the States so it was high time! Zipcar was very user-friendly and easy to reserve. And GPS makes it all worth it. So we need to figure out our next getaway. Welcome to highway driving!

Touch a Truck!

2009-05-30T20:03:00.000-07:00

Ivry had a ton of fun blasting the horns and turning on sirens on so many different kinds of trucks. Help! I think I need ear insurance. :-)

Let's Go To Earth!

2009-05-22T12:59:00.000-07:00

Ivry is a nature and earth nut - all kids are. No wonder I had to say to him, "You're part of mommy's world!" when he presented me with this sea-green watercolor of earth. Beautiful, isn't it!

He's a bird lover too!

I'm An Usborne Educational Consultant!

2009-05-22T12:56:00.000-07:00

It's a great website - Usborne books with plenty of great books. Click here to see my website. You can catch up on the posts on my new teacher resource center and read about the great books. Plus I'm having a lot of great specials and deals. Enter the free $50.00 drawing. Earn free books for your family!

Here are the pictures of my first Usborne Books home show! We had a great time.

Going to "Space" with Ivry's Ear Surgery

2009-05-12T13:33:00.001-07:00

We just came back from Children's hospital. Ivry needed a quick 10 minute ear tube procedure. There's fluid still stuck in his ear which doesn't allow his ears to drain properly. As a result, he has frequent ear infections every 2 months - usually during winter. We were kind of hoping that they would drain naturally, but on his last follow-up, the doctors weren't too optimistic and a surgery date was secured.

We were lucky with our doctor today - he is one of the best ear specialists for children on the east coast. In fact, I heard today that families come as far as the UK. That makes me proud to know that I have access to some of the best child health care in the country!

So here I leave you with some pictures today. Ivry was produly showing off his car as he was getting ready for the "space room." His dad accompanied him where anasthesia was given to him through a mask. Daddy had so much fun wearing his space suit (we can recycle it later) and Ivry loved his toy car and "space cap" and gown. The nurses could help by saying, "He's too cute!" *smile* *grin* *I know, I know*

The waiting was two hours too long to put the tubes in. I was wrong - they are put in through the ear - not the mouth - silly mommy!

All in all, Ivry was just a happy (as always) child. Contrary to what I thought, he didn't complain once, he didn't say "I'm hungry." or "I'm thirsty" which was my nightmare. No drinking or eating allowed.

His alacrity allowed us to be joyful with him as we took our space buddy to various destinations all throughout the waiting room. But the best destination was home after quickly finding the doctor waiting for me to tell us it was all over (10 minutes) and that we could come home. Our affable driver was already waiting for us out front.We were given transportation because we don't have a car.

I am so proud of my son today. And the best part ? We made it through as a family.

2009-05-06T04:00:00.000-07:00

NYC Trip - Part 5 - April 2009

2009-05-06T03:55:00.000-07:00

And last but not least, my mom - she's doing well. She doesn't recognize Ivry (due to Alzheimer's) but her face lights up when he talks. Who wouldn't - with this cutie??

NYC Trip - Part 4 - Washington Square Park

2009-05-06T03:45:00.000-07:00

Okay - I admit it - I'm crazy about NYC Park. This was the second nice spring day we had while in NYC. We spent it with Uncle Elan who flew in from San Diego to be with us and Claire.

NYC Trip - April 2009 - Part 3

2009-05-06T03:36:00.001-07:00

While at Chelsea Piers, Ivry met Malcolm, a sweet little boy half his age who Claire babysits for. Claire is my old childhood friend from Westbeth. They had a great time looking at the indoor fountain and spring (slippery!). Of course, Chelsea Piers is an indoor market (expensive!) which is alongside the Hudson River. The weather in NYC was so gloomy (not much different than Pittsburgh) but luckily, we were able to find some family oriented places to pass the time.

NYC Trip - Part 2 - April 2009

2009-05-06T03:30:00.001-07:00

Abingdon Park in Greenwich Village, NYC was THE park we went to as kids growing up in NYC. Now it's Ivry's turn only the bad weather turned so many moms and caregivers away - I don't understand it. What's wrong playing in the sand during a ten minute snow flurry in April?? All the others ran off, but Ivry was as content as could be....

I love watching him play....He's so special to me.

NYC Trip - April 2009 - Part 1

2009-05-06T03:24:00.000-07:00

Since there were only 2 really nice spring days during our trip to NYC, we opted to go to Central park - there Ivry met a cute little boy named Simon. Central Park is a great place to just walk around, watch the ducks, regroup as a family, hang loose and just forget about life for a while.

Whee - I'm Off On the Blue Slide in Frick Park!

2009-05-06T03:21:00.000-07:00

April 2009 - Ivry's New Friend and Trip to Amish Countryside

2009-05-06T03:13:00.000-07:00

Bird Calls: It's that Social Networking Time Again

2009-01-03T19:31:00.001-08:00

It seems to be my saving grace - this social networking thing. Or perhaps I'm aiming for a balance? In the last two years, I have switched to a virtually online lifestyle which is weird for me. For eighteen years I lived in a kibbutz tunnel - a unique lifestyle that complemented my New York City ghostly past. I'd arrive to the kibbutz in our little green Volkswagen at precisely 2:20 pm from teaching at the local Regional High School and check up on the local kibbutz news via a specially hooked up TV channel and then pick up my son from the local babyhouse that was just a two second bike ride away.

Again, social networking spaces I've once felt limiting have fulfilled a deep social need - this time a global one. And now I find that we are yet in another disastrous era when Israeli ground forces are now entering Gaza - I find myself twittering once again. I remember the days when I pushed myself to discuss the media in front of my students without knowing what tomorrow will bring. For the past few weeks, I've been facebooking and twittering as if I'm en route tomorrow to Israel to visit our kibbutz home. But I stay in front of our computer waiting for a miracle to happen. But it doesn't work this way. Like a ghost, I slip in and out of kibbutz and Pittsburgh tunnels - to walk to the kolbo (Hebrew for a kibbutz supermarket - relatively small in size) and say 'hi' to folks I see twice sometimes more daily and open our mailbox (in this case, inbox) and read all the local news from the bulletin board.

Those bird calls are back again - social networking makes it makes me ironically feel safer under a virtual shell. Yet how much more isolated am I or how really connected am I? I guess the choice of where to live and feel connected is always, inevitably.. mine. (I'm lucky to have a supporting husband though..)

So back to real bird calls. Taking it "bird by bird," Ivry and I took our usual two buses that took us to the Aviary where we claimed our own "bird spaces." And like I predicted, Ivry took to the rainforest exhibit where birds swooped to the crunching of our apples. Their benevolent faces held much more promise than simply a flutter and screech. They wanted to feel exclusively part of our territories and for a moment, I thought they would perch on our shoulders - not an uncommonly noticeable sight but terribly crucial for these strikingly beautiful birds to feel important with us!

They stuck around enough for me to enjoy their exotic markings and colors and to take some wonderful pictures

I've stuck in some extra pictures of Ivry's fourth birthday celebration and a bonus picture of today's bird Bingo he received for his Hanukkah/birthday present, which we haven't played with at all until today. After our trip today, he wanted to return it back to the store. Yikes!

Uncle Elan and Ivry's Fourth Birthday

2008-12-29T04:06:00.000-08:00

It was a glorious three days with my brother Elan who had just three days to be with us. For me, it was an opportunity to connect just like old times but with a bit heavier emotional baggage than usual. But for Ivry, it was a very special time to finally meet his Uncle Elan as opposed to hearing about him virtually.

Ivry was so excited as we were all to have a family representative celebrate his musical birthday with Daisy, his music teacher from Household Harmony. We greatly benefited from Uncle Elan's technical expertise as we uploaded yesterday afternoon a youtube video (10 minutes) of the musical celebration. Click here to see the video.

As I'm writing this, I'm a bit wistful about Uncle Elan's leaving. We managed to deeply bond during this brief three day time. Perhaps because we both knew that we didn't have much time and wanted to focus on making each other happy and feel comfortable. I must have watched that youtube video at least ten times - now that Uncle Elan left, I'll probably watch it some times more.

Happy Holidays.

Ivry's Love in a Winterland

2008-12-09T04:55:00.000-08:00

I'm Thankful!

2008-11-30T10:30:00.000-08:00

This is late but better late than never. Yet the timing of this post couldn’t be more perfect. The last few weeks have nothing been short of miraculous in terms of watching Ivry become potty trained in just three days! We've been waiting for this moment a year and did all the coaxing and bribery that one can think of - but he validated for us that the difference between a soiled pull-up or pair of underwear is his affirmative self. I am amazed and grateful for his self-directed affirmative self. He holds his head high and marches to the bathroom without expecting a bridge. I'm grateful that we haven't used bribes and thankfully, we have managed to also get through this one. I hate bribes.

As a writer, I spend many lonely sometimes rainy Saturday and Sundays (in addition to the other 2 days a week) writing, finding work, checking off the items of m writing plan. I work on revising the first two chapters of my book in order to bring it up to standard, which I started in my sabbatical from my teaching post in Israel last year. I continue to submit articles to online sites on educational topics. I continue to write for my new site (www.newteacherresourcecenter.com) The New Teacher Resource Center and build up a wide readership of teachers and professionals that hopefully, will become my dream community. I continue to try and find a decent online or offline teaching job that matches my credentials and abilities. I write children's fiction and non-fiction and send them off to big publishing houses in Manhattan that are just a train ride away from where I grew up in the Greenwich Village.

I'm grateful for having the blessings that I do to at least to try weave my dreams Uas an ESL professional and writer (no doctorate but considering it) I just wish that sometimes, just sometimes, these decisions were more self-revealing than simply working hard and not knowing what the future will bring. This IS hard.

I'm grateful to have found a partner who is a writer at heart and extremely smart and understanding. He has pursued a position as a manager in the cheese department earning decent wages to provide for our needs. He is my one and only true companion, keeps me sane and rational when it's cold and rainy outside and I feel sometimes alone and stuck in my head.

I’m learning how to hustle and find jobs, keep writing articles and maintain momentum. But I know that this process takes time. Sometimes my thoughts aren’t lucid and clear as other days. I keep giving thanks to god for showing me what it is that I should write about. Almost always, I am shown the answer - whether by a force above or from within - I am my own self-affirming writer.

For now, we are eternally grateful to have come this far.

Thanksgiving Leftovers

2008-11-28T17:41:00.001-08:00

To acquaint our international guest Haruka with the holiday, I printed a short synopsis of Thanksgiving from an American point of view, xeroxed a few pages from the 1971 book If you Sailed on the Mayflower. I was impartial to becoming too sentimental. But big Haruka was already happy to feel part of a great American tradition and that was ALL that mattered. I was happy to know that we also made another friend in the process. For Ivry.

Funny how the PCIV thinks we are traditional "American hosts" for internationals when I feel that we are still immigrants from the outside looking in.

PCIV Trip to Frank Llyod Wright's Falling Water (Pittsburgh Council of International Visitors)

2008-11-26T19:55:00.000-08:00

2008-11-09T06:55:00.000-08:00

The DAwning of a New Era

2008-11-05T04:04:00.000-08:00

I must have changed my mind at least ten times during the last half. Obama or McCain? I didn't follow the campaign trail but I felt we needed in my heart a change for a strong leader.

And still, up until yesterday, I still was undecided...

I walked around the college still with unsurety. I even asked an instructor: "who do you think I should vote for?"

"Obama," he replied.

I am generation X - product of Watergate, cold war and Reganeconomics.

I felt largely removed from the election process and the candidacy because of my absence from the US. 19 years.

I came back from Israel's own wars to find a political friend, not an adversary. Somebody who can lead the planet.

In going forward, we can find our own strength and belief in who we really are.
I could definitely understand the joy, the dancing in the streets down Forbes Avenue last night. It comes with no surprise the long polls and the high percentage of minority and women groups.

His victory speech was the affirmation we are all looking for. We are looking for healing, a period that "WE CAN."

Like others, I too want a president I can now call my own. With pride. America has done it.

America has awaken to a new era.. our first African-American president. It will be some years before we see the profound changes of this new leadership.

We are making history and paving the way to change. I don't think anybody can realize now what this means for America.

Ivry's First Haircut and Second Farm Fall Festival Trip

2008-10-19T11:07:00.000-07:00

My First US Paycheck in 19 Years

2008-10-11T16:49:00.001-07:00

My last paycheck I received just before I took off for a 19 year journey that would bring me full circle and back to the States last year was from a US employer. The Year was 1989. I worked for CTI Messengers in downtown NYC delivering small packages via the subway and my bike. I owned the streets of Manhattan, knew how to time my three-subway ride in twenty minutes from Fulton Street in Lower Manhattan to East forty second. Boy, I was a pro.

The image you see in front of your (and my) very own eyes is the paycheck I received from CCAC Allegheny Community College a few days ago - a grand total of $432.00 and some pocket change for teaching an ESL written composition class for two days a week, an hour and a half each time. I am loving it! My students are from East and West Africa, Pakistan, various provinces of India. The feedback has been positive and students are affable and earnest and motivated. It is a definitely refreshing break from twelve years of the Israeli classroom. As I noted recently to a friend, I keep expecting that an Israeli student will step into the classroom, raise his/her hand as in salute, cry out my name, do something to disturb the classroom deliberately so that I can't teach. In my mind, they inevitably speak back to me as they are VERY direct and verbal. It is no wonder that they have the appellation "chutzpanim" (im relating to plural of students) But none of those scenarios I've built in my head in fact happens, leaving me to conclude that my cultural reality in the US is not completely real.

So back to the paycheck issue - I am now a US taxpayer of Uncle Sam - all over again. I don't mind so long as I am learning and growing. Even in today's crazy economy, I must not be afraid. I WILL NOT succumb to fear. It is paralyzing. It's hard though not to. But the media does a damn good job of relating to it as such.

And a few updates:1.I just joined Suzanne Lieurance's Build Your Business Write. I participated in her Working Writer's summer boot camp, and it just boosted my confidence to take my writing to a completely different level. You can hear my testimony about on the left side link of my new teacher's blog blog. Just scroll down a bit.

2.I've got a newteacherresourcecenter over at blogspot and I've just purchased six months worth of my own domain name - newteacherresourcecenter.com Yay! I'll have my own domain name which I'll be setting up probably tomorrow when I'll choose a new template "face" for the website. My baby.

3. I'm also very excited with my marketing efforts until now. It has been a satisfying experience and I'm learning not to be intimidated from the technical issues that have been popping up as a result of the process. So far I've been able to successfully:

1. establish two of my own informational products including a FREE bimonthly ezine and ebook
2. post three times to my blog.
3. send already a FREE ezine to my 65 new and seasoned teachers on my mailing
4. establish a mailing list
5. network with teachers all over the world
6. submit articles to the EZine article directories thus increasing traffic to my blog

Anyhow, I've celebrated the Jewish New Year with the birth of my blog. Let's hope the New Year rings in business!

Simmons Farm - First Farm Festival Trip

2008-10-05T16:02:00.000-07:00

We finally made it to our first hayride excursion out to Simmons farm, about 40 minutes drive from Pittsburgh in the South Hills. Luckily, a ride pulled in for us at the last minute and a friendly young woman by the name of Stephanie from the UJF (United Jewish Federation) was so courteous and helpful. (it really does suck sometimes not having access to a car.)

Ivry had a great time sipping apple cider, going on his first hay ride, loading play trucks with dry corn, riding a 17 year old horse and playing in a fire engine. It was a beautiful sunny day with amazing blue skies. The weather was perfect. I think we came a bit too early to really enjoy foliage, but the signs of it were sprouting everywhere.

We bought two little pumpkins (85 cents each) and a candied apple for fun. We also amazingly delicious apple and pumpkin butter. Yum! We bought a few veggies including: zucchini, a buttnut Squash, some red peppers (which I fried to make a salad) and four tomoatoes at a whopping $4.00. We also bought some garlic gloves and a small jug of apple cider, but the price of veggies are still so expensive. The veggies in Israel are so cheap and fresh. I guess farm produce is the closest to freshness that we could find. Simmons farm is very kid friendly, but what a money making machine. I paid three bucks for a horse ride for him that took 50 seconds. They wanted five bucks for two rounds. Can you imagine? But of course, these are the memories which Ivry will have for his whole life, and these are the special moments for him that I can't get anywhere else..... so go figure...

Many people especially children, came clad in their Halloween trick-or-treat clothes (not costumes) and it was great meeting some of Ivry's friends at the JCC too. It's amazing what a few hours out of the city can do for my tired brain and for a happy preschooler who fell asleep on the car ride home. What a wonderful day!

Now that we are almost ready for bed, he is watching the fiftieth anniversary edition of Laslie and I am reminded of how he and his father went down to the basement to look for tigers (cute) because of the tiger episode with Laslie. Now, Ivry is in his tiger slippers and pj's ready for bed. What a cutie! For some reason, everywhere I go, everyone calls him "she" - "she wants to play," and "she wants to get out, so move please..." and so forth. Weird.

Anyhow, hope y'all are having a good week. Enjoy the pictures and the two videos of Ivry's first hayride.

StoryWalk - Squirrel Hill - 2008

2008-09-27T05:59:00.000-07:00

This amazing literacy event was a feast to the imagination!

Ivry's second music class

2008-08-10T19:36:00.000-07:00

More of your royal cuteness!

Wordless Wednesday- Ivry's first music class

2008-08-06T04:57:00.000-07:00

Look what I found? Purim 2007

2008-07-31T12:25:00.000-07:00

Pictures and Videos from New York City

2008-06-16T01:24:00.000-07:00

Daddy and ivry walking past Westbeth to the Hudson River The new construction building Friday sunset on the New Jersey shore Ivry and Mommy

Home for a Few Days

2008-06-09T17:58:00.000-07:00

It has been quite muggy here in NYC visiting my mom. I practically fainted in the 101 temperature walking Ivry back from the park today. Ivry was red as a beet, too.

We stayed indoors in the air-conditioned NYC - Greenwich Village apartment and watched cranes pull up woden stairs for the 14 million dollar townhouses across the street from us. Sadly this view afforded a view of the Hudson River, which is now, eternally blocked.

Deb from g's Cottage inspired me to write some of my observations since I've returned. Book writing has occupied much of this blog and no that I am back at Westbeth, the artist building where I grew up, it was a perfect opportunity to reset time to fit the times of 2008 and where I am.

It's hard to come back after 20 years of living in Israel and to see that the place I grew up is surrounded by celebrities and a lot of Europeans (the Euro is very strong) considering that when I left in 1989, nobody wanted to live in Greenwich Village - it was slumsville. Now everybody wants to live here. The building where my mom lives is subsidized by the government and the city council. The votes of the westbeth council is paramount to the recent developments of the recent struggle to keep Westbeth affordable for artists as its initial vision since its inception in 1970.

For me, Westbeth will always be home with its urbanity and profound artist foundation. I said that this morning to my mom's long time neighbor and visual artist Christina Maile. And I said this to my neighbor and friend Mary Bassett who lived down the hallway from us. I was so happy to see the exterminator come to my mom's door. I recognized him right away - just speaking to him made me feel better and not displaced like some refugee. I said he looks timeless - that help put everything into perspective like everything will be ok - for a brief moments, I felt my dad was practicing his art upstairs and my mom was practicing her piano.

Here I am not anonymous and the struggle to feel at home is not as pronounced because everythig is so familiar. The guard lets me in when he says: "Oh, you're Carmen's daughter" and Jacaman, Westbeth's beloved security guard downstairs from Puerto Rico has been here from 1973 - for me that is approximately since I was three years old. He always asks me "where's your brother?" and that makes me feel good because I've come back to my roots. telling him "He's in San Diego' is not as comforting. I wish I could tell him "He'll be back soon" but that is not the case. Everybody misses him around here.

People don't know where Pittsburgh is and I don't feel yet home.
the artist life is my foundation even if I don't practice in every day life. I love this part of New York City and I wish we could live here for at least some parts of the year.

I am at a serious crossroads in my life. Sometimes my day is occupied wondering what my future will bring. I have yet to find my home in Pittsburgh. Starting over is much much harder than I thought.

We're flying back to Pittsburgh later this afternoon. I think I will need come back to Westbeth more often to visit my mom and feel comforted. I aited much too long to come here - almost 7 months.

Will posted some amazing pictures soon.

A Late Wordless Wednesday

2008-06-04T18:53:00.001-07:00

This flower setting I made during the women's gathering last Sunday in honor of Shavuot. I even surprised myself. It's so nice to look at, keeps me company during the long writing hours and jazzes up the room. I can't stop looking at it.

Just a Small Email

2008-06-01T13:36:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I received the final email confirmation from my coauthor which I wanted to hear: she will send the book proposal to our propspective editor at Corwin Press. How sweet! How quick!

It's hard to believe that what started as a dream back in Israel, has evolved into subsequent drafts, 50 to be exact.

I put the dream into motion as a new immigrant in Pittsburgh, writing on my own in the Squirrel Hill library in Pittsburgh for months from my laptop along with files of the teacher's life, then collaborated with a coauthor after a talk with my editor.

It has been a journey.

Now, the waiting time begins.

A Brief Update for Those Interested

2008-05-12T05:53:00.001-07:00

On the outside, it's just another day. Getting ready for the writing desk, living, mother to Ivry. But there's a lot going on inside, too.

Bulleted points of interest for those following my footsteps...

* Celebrated my first Mother's Day in the States was nice albeit rainy. The Sunday plans to join other Israelis at a local park was cancelled, so we went shopping for a vacuum cleaner. How fun! Now the carpet really looks clean after we threw out the second (or third) hand one.

* Our request for an additional year of absence from the kibbutz has been approved. We intend to stay in Pittsburgh for the upcoming year.

* Work is underway with coauthoring the book "Developing Literacy in K-2 English language learners." I recently checked the draft folder. 50 drafts! (and counting)

* Recently, I discovered a beautiful easy-to-walk trail out in Schenely Park last week. I came back half-energized, half in reverie. It's been a while since I escaped from the computer.

* We're thinking of renting a car for a few days. The last time I drove in the State was in 1997 and before that was in 1989. There are days when I am more adventurous than others. Truthfully, I wish there were buses that went via Raccoon State park and other beautiful nature reserves that I can only see on the Internet.

* I've signed up for a writer's coach / summer boot camp. I think it's what I need right now to take the writing to the next level. I've also applied for a community service program called Literacycorps under the Americorps division. I've got a few site interviews lined up soon. Full time position starts in September.

* Recently, we were looking at flights to Israel. I am getting a little bit homesick to see our kibbutz, family, friends, but apparently, not enough to pay $1500 just for me, let alone for Haim and Ivry. Yowza!!!!! Unfortunately, the price hikes in gas do not intend to stop anytime soon.

* I'm feeling isolated a bit so I'm glad I stepped out of my shell and contacted a few local mothers - one via my writing groups who put me in contact with others. Not sure on what is to be, but at least, it's a positive move in some direction.

* Yesterday, I bought a skirt at Target. Nice dark cream brown. Twenty bucks. Cotton. With slits. My kind of color. Earth colors.I'm wearing it now. Makes me look like a few more pounds. Probably due to the buttermilk pancakes I just ate.

* I've decided to be more accountable with the time I spend on the computer. Too much time checking emails! So after writing in this blog entry, I am going to hold myself accountable for the writing/Internet time. A schedule's a powerful thing!

Anyhow, have a great week, folks! See you in the 'burgh'...

Thursday Thirteen April 17.2008

2008-04-17T01:10:00.000-07:00

Thirteen Things that Happened at 3:00 in the Morning

One would think that calming my three year old son with his nightmarish fits at 3:00 o'clock would purport me to sleep. But that wasn't the case. now, I'm wide awake as if I'm ready to tackle the day.

1. I calmed Ivry down and he finally fell asleep on our bed
2. I went to the bathroom and tried to fall asleep
3. I tossed and truned and focused on the air-conditioning sound at the apartment above me
4. I hugged my son and saw he had fallen asleep
5. My brain started thinking
6. My stomach started hurting
7. I went to the bathroom again
8. I began to feel homesick for my four walled kibbutz apartment
9. I thought about my progress with my writing endeavors including that of my book, our impending visit to NYC to see my mom, and unfinished Passover tasks
10. I hugged my pillow
11. I hugged my son
12. I tried meditating
13. I came to the computer... and here I am!

I like to have a full 7 -8 hours sleep. Wonder what happened today? There's a lot of stress I'm feeling lately - that I know for sure. Stress with revising the book, finding enough freelance writing gigs if I make that decision to branch over to freelance writing and finding a day job. But then there are the triggers to all that stress.

Deep inside, I know where the anxiety is also coming from: I think I'd be better off knowing I've released the feelings of doubts and uncertainty. Is this just me? Is anybody else feeling this way at times.... Any thoughts?

Happy TT

Wordless Wednesday: Can I Kiss You Before I Go to the JCC?

2008-04-09T04:45:00.001-07:00

This is what my precious little Ivry said to me this morning just before he left for the Jewish Community Center where he attends daycare. I love you was all I could say!

On a different note, I spoke to my editor yesterday afternoon. We talked for about an hour. He praised the contents of the book suggesting that I could clearly benefit from the writing with a co-author. An hour later I called my reviewer and asked if she would be interested in doing the project with me. She gave an affirmative 'yes'. We'll, see how that goes!

Sedar Manners from New York to Israel and Back Again

2008-04-07T10:31:00.000-07:00

Sedar Manners from New York to Israel and Back Again
by Dorit Sasson

As I watch my three year son slurp chicken soup after Friday night’s service, I am almost home. Well, almost. I want to get on that LIRR train to Far Rockaway so much. But for the sake of Sedar manners, I push that memory just a bit back in my subconscious.
I truly feel like an outsider now that we’ve moved back to the States. I’ve lived in both Israel and American in equal numbers of years, but when it comes time to slurping soup, time stands still. Momma tried to teach me what she thought were Sedar manners for eight years, and she didn’t compromise - even on a Sedar night. She thought the excitement of singing the four questions (what has changed, Ma Nishtana?) would perhaps distract me from slurping soup and watching others slurp. The thought of watching her almost eighteen year old daughter become excited by little cousin Zackary’s version of “Ma Nishtana?” (what has changed) made her finally realized that I was busy to be bothered with keeping up with sedar manners.

“Don’t you have something you would like to share with the family?” she asked me on my last Passover sedar.
“What, what are you talking about?” I asked as uncle Eddie put down his soup spoon and lifting his head.
“You know, about you volunteering on a kibbutz and moving to Israel.” My mom said.
Sharing my decision of emigrating to Israel, I felt like I was Moses leading the people across through the Dead Sea with his stick. All eyes were upon me. But I slurped my matzah ball soup quietly in order to distract myself from the silence. The truth was I was scared. I knew that Far Rockaway and Greenwich Village were really the only two homes I knew.
Uncle Eddie smiled. “Well, at least we know who’s going to be in Jerusalem next year, as they say in the Torah.”
Since then I have spent the next 18 Passover sedars in and around Jerusalem. Only last year, I’ve discovered a need to come back home, perhaps to understand that slurping Matzoh ball soup is just as universal as I thought it is.

After a long hiatus from submitting posts to Scribbit's Write Away Contest, I'm happy to say that I've found myself a bit inspired and submitted again.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

2008-03-28T12:59:00.000-07:00

After months of research and writing, there is a faint glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.

Yesterday, my prospective editor emailed me about my book proposal I sent exactly a month ago.

He wants to discuss it further over the phone. This is the confirmation I was looking for and legitimizes all that hard hard work.

Sometimes that glimmer is hard to see and sometimes, we don't even believe there's reason to dream.

Well, I am here to tell you that they can happen. Not like tomorrow I'm going to be a published author anyhow...:)

Later y'all!

Look What The Post Brought Today...

2008-03-01T18:59:00.000-08:00

So much of what I have done with my life and decisions has been thought out, planned, reviewed, and sometimes even misunderstood. I tend to think I'm a real pro at moving cross-Atlantic, spacing out my life through not one, but seven time zones.

Like most people or at least the people I know, make decision based on a heart-felt conscience: I know, I feel, I do - only I think I know the 'feel' part. I mark the territory when I know I am certain. But underneath this certainty, there's an old friend, waiting to be held, told stories to, play Trivia and Scrabble. It's as Anne Lamott said tonight at her lecture: "it's the mothers of all our quilts" that have touched us.

I was touched today too, by Anne or "Annie" as they called her by her community of wordship. It didn't lead to a pronounced list of what I did wrong on the bus ride back home to where I have taken incredible leaps and bounds of faith just by leaving a kibbutz, a warm comfortable pastoral, domestic niche that cannot be explained or transmitted through a blog; But just to come here to Pittsburgh, to relive a dream that suddenly breaks me free of one area of certainty into a entire pool of vulnerability makes me feel incredibly naked. And when I feel naked, I feel a need also to swim.

It's that 'slow, slow, quick, quick' steps of 'foxtrotting' that she and her boyfriend learned but aren't afraid to learn. It's my will as a writer to find the words that might give me great strength and also in my faith, but the road might scare me. It's the act of trying that might spill my faith from the world, I have known and grown so well.

You all know I'm sure what faith does when you think you will abandon it, to find that you weren't certain, that you made the greatest mistake.

I walked over icy paths and snow melts tonight to find that my faith wasn't real a leap at all: it's just what I need to do. I'm right back at where I started with the words, the need to feel humble and alive again, the need to write on tiny pieces of notes and stick them in a box as Annie Lamott says: "a God's box".

But in essence, I can't do that without a little bit of faith. I realize that I can't do anything anymore without a bit of help. I know I have 'bird by bird' beside me.

I sent it, I sent it, I sent it, I sent it!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-02-29T05:59:00.000-08:00

I sent my first book proposal just a few minutes ago to the educational publisher I've been eyeing for months now.

Now I can legit all those long hard nights writing about a subject true and dear to my heart "Teaching at-Risk ELLs"

Now the waiting time.

Actually, he said he would return to me within a week. Is that quick , or what?

Ugh. I think now I'm going to be sick.

Thursday Thirteen - Things That Keep Me Going

2008-02-28T17:48:00.000-08:00

Okay, okay - I'm way way behind on posting this and didn't think I would post, if at all today. But there is a need to be social...

1. Anne Lammot is coming to Pittsburgh! On Saturday! I need somebody to help me learn how to speak the faith language. Is it - 1800-faith-ful?

2. My Book . Shh, don't talk about it too much but, I think I am going to be able to email my editor the book proposal and the two samples chapters... dare I say, tomorrow!!, which is the culprit reason for slaving these past six months, hiding behind stacks in the research library, forgetting I'm a mom, working into the night taking it 'bird by bird'. I will ring out the the red carpet once I know it's been emailed, but for now I am praying these two editors will return my queries. *but I'm still checking my email at least three times an hour - god help me*

3. The need to be more patient. It comes with no surprise that I am not a patient person. So I am learning.

4. The weekend, or what's really left of it. Sometimes there is one, right now I feel there isn't.

5. Time to catch up with friends/brother (San Diego) on the weekend. I have an old childhood friend who I adore. She lives in new Mexico. We're to speak this weekend.

6. Time to write Children's fiction. I have a chapter book in progress.

7. Just plain Internet surfing and blogging, without being distracted all the time.

8. Peace and Quiet.

9. Looking forward to a new day and all its possibilities (i.e. looking for freelance work, networking, reading and writing something new)

10. The priceless feeling of living in gratefulness. I try to keep Shabbat cozy and low-key, but I become selfish again very soon, and want to go back to my writing. Oh, what can I do? I told you I was nerdy.

11. A sunny sunny day. What I would do for a sunny day in Pittsburgh - for ten days it's been cloudy, rainy, snowy, hazy, flurry,... everything but bloody sunny. I miss my Israeli climate. Yikes!

12. A trip to the Internet cafe... Here, get the irony of this... there are three just a few blocks away but I cannot seem to focus there.. too much incessant talking in invariably half a dozen languages... so it's just another escape route. I rarely get stuff done.

13. Quality time with my son. Hopefully, he'll know he's the icing on my cake even with all the doubt and uncertainty and fear that are popping up all the time in my life.

14. (Bonus) - my writing group! *waving hands* They rock!

Happy Thirteen - y'all!

God Gave Me

2008-02-27T16:24:00.000-08:00

God gave me words
to speak out against my injustice
like child abuse

God gave me determination
so I could white out fears easily
as I create them

on paper they shine
but god gave me
also
the ability to love
when my son cries: "Daddy" for two hours
straight on and
there's my mom but
she's not around
so I think like
God and what he
can still give me

I mean all the years as a child are
long gone, no?

So I think God could still give me
love, the everlasting, I think
the unconditional brand
the only one around
which God really meant for me.

-written by Dorit Sasson
February 27.2008

Tag

2008-02-26T18:27:00.000-08:00

Slyvia from Slyvia's Insights just tagged me. So here are my 7 random facts about me. I think I'm as nerdiest as they get, but I am interesting!

1. I lived on a kibbutz for 17 years in Israel, but grew up in Greenwich Village Manhattan until age 18.

2. I am writing a book on early literacy and ESL as part of my sabbatical this year.

3. I have an obsession with looking at peoples' feet, especially my husband's. [Shh, don't tell, but his toes look like petals!]

4. It took me a long while to commit to this neme and to this blog.

5. I can get easily depressed by cold and wintry weather and need a lot of love and tlc.

6. I love warm sparkling bubble baths and hate scary movies.

7. I can get compulsive about keeping my papers in orders. Watch out!

Phew.. that was fun.

Now I'm tagging:

Barrie of Barrie Summy

Katherine Swan of Swan's Blog

Daisy of Compost Happens

Kim of Livin in Happy Town

Susan from West of Mars

Chelle from Crazy Thoughts

Liz Garrett from Little Wool Gatherings

Here are the rules...
1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Yay, me for doing this! Getting there!

I think, I Feel... I Know

2008-02-18T15:20:00.000-08:00

In one of my last posts, I wrote about soup memories inspired directly by the tantalizing cooking of Hinda Czernick, z"l.

Well apparently I was not the only one who remembers Grandma's cooking. Last night, I went to a Soup for the Soul women's event perfectly organized by a young writer/mother named Chani. It was at her house that I heard miracle stories of a mother who donated parts of her liver to save her three year old daughter with a tumor, partisans who, during the Nazi regime took grandparents of a Jewish family in and by chance both them and the Toral scrolls survived and the speaker eventually met up with both the scroll and former family members. The list goes on.

Chani impeccably had the living and dining room adorned with ruby lamp candles, rose petal candles everywhere, smells of vanilla and jasmin rose hip teas and a wide delectable scent of teas and flowers...and finally, there were glass canisterns of lima beans, peas, ABC's pasta, dried beef and vegetable soup powder, mushrooms, etc which we put in decorated glass jars to either prepare at home, or to give away as gifts. What a lovely idea!

When you get back in the form of food or stories, it inspires you to give. So I did just that by preparing one of those soups (it came out great) and brought it down to the lady downstairs. She was overjoyed. It takes just a small act of random kindness to bring a smile of warmth to a person. Just a few minutes will do.

For weeks, my soul has been worn out with writing, researching, reorganizing, searching for jobs, ... mommy writers are nurturers of the soul indeed.

Why just today I came across an old black binder full of teacher notes and saw handwritten citations of Thomas Moore's Cares of the Soul. I remember how it captured me before mommy days, and I wonder how it would feel to reconnect with his words again.

Chani lovingly prepared for each and every one of us a book of soup recipes and texts of our Grandmothers. Mine was there. One may consider that they all represent in their own way, ecriture feminine or, 'women's writing. I tend to think of it as universality - since women's writing is part of the universality of soul.

And now for a new subject altogether: Ivry and I went to the Carnegie Science Center on Saturday. It was a lovely day. The train exhibit was amazing. I have never seen anything like it. Here are some pictures of the little guy.

I'm Overwhelmed... Just Breathe!

2008-02-07T09:32:00.000-08:00

I decided today I am a human being. No excuses. No misfits. I am not going to write a laborious post, if I can't help it. But it almost always seems to go back to the writing.

*******************
I am seriously overwhelmed. Seriously and big time.

This book is making me nuts.

There is so much research involved.

Everything takes one step at a time.

It is such a slow slow process.

I need more than a year to write it.

How am I ever going to finish??????????

Five Reasons for Writing

2008-01-18T20:29:00.000-08:00

For three weeks already, I reached the end of the week, like a tired mouse. I am cranky and irritable. All I want to do is climb into bed, but I know I live for getting this done. I can't go to sleep let alone enjoy a Friday night without finishing the last book writing items.

As it was in Israel, for the last seventeen years, it was so easier to say that I was a writer when I wrote down my thoughts in my journal. A few times, I had some good moments like I was trying to get close to something; but in retrospect, I was completing venting. Now I am much more cautious when I use that word.... what word, 'oh yea, vent...'

Lately, I've had a real need to vent: I received two rejections today: one from the Post - Gazette who declined using my column "From Pittsburgh to Israel." It actually was my first crack at column writing. I was humbled by the experience but when he said that I had some interesting insights, I said well, it's his loss. Why would anyone in fact want to read an immigrant's adjustment process after living on a kibbutz for 12 years, serving as an officer for three, and studying for one then another degree? (obviously not in that order)

Then I had a rejection regarding my first children's story "One Bridge, Two Hands." Like many first pieces, I was anxious to simply let it fly to the world. The result? An editor over at Kar-Ben (a trade publisher for Jewish materials, imprint of Lerner)mentioned my word choice was "off" but what she really meant, was that the story was probably not holding itself together. But this story was unique: it was situated on a kibbutz. I have never used the word 'kibbutz' in any of my writings. is that a gentle sign of acculturation? Go figure.

Sometimes I feel like I'm not holding myself together. Yesterday, was the epitome. Here I am, sitting in my three year old son's room among the puzzle pieces, lego blocks, bedding and my books, trying to create my own writing space by hopefully give my voice some sense of intent. With all that said, the timing just came out right as a faithful blogger who believes in my writing endeavors, tagged me for Reasons why I write. At 11pm yesterday, I pushed my back against the wall away from my son's kicking legs. There are those reasons that Deb mentions from G's" Cottage which are way up there. I'll just add to the list that both Julia Cameron in The Right to Write and I seem to share. Okay, I admit it. It's my first tag.

1. Those lovely red marks...in eight grade... the ones that said 'very nice' or, 'good work' I was a ball of fire, I wanted to be understood. Nobody seemed to recognize what I had to say. Nobody. So I wrote awful seventeen year old stuff but that was the beginning of believing that I have something to say.

2. Writing fills a void and gives back a voice. Mom told me never to enter the arts. Perhaps she didn't want me to struggle like she did. Look, what she ended up with: no recognition, no pension, just a 24 hour caretaker for her Alzheimer's. While this doesn't mean that I am ready to make money off of it, writing is one of those outlets that come to me more naturally than understanding how a blog works.

3. Writing helps me connect to myself. I spend hours in front of a computer screen all day. It's a luxury most mothers don't have - just to write. And then, just out of the blue, I'll have a flashback. A ton of them. Like that. I'll remember the drink I had when I was at Grandmother's house in Far Rockaway and the oily smell of her pumps in 1985. I have a very keen memory.

4. Writing gives me a sense of belonging. When I begin to realize that I claim word, I claim my space. When I read my children's story: "One Bridge, Two Hands," I suddenly felt liberated I allowed myself to write about a kibbutz. Of course, I would not have been able to start the process of claiming my words, (and sanity) if my writing mentor did encourage me to explore all the sensations. I love the line: "It's all in your head. Just get it out."

5. Writing gives me a chance to stop and realize that the flowers aren't exactly rosy, but they can be.That is the life of people. I can easily lift characters off from life. Believe me. My short lived life has been too colorful. Way too colorful. {I can't believe I wake up every morning to a concrete skilled nurse facility outside my window}

I have learned from blood, sweat and tears not to do this: I set myself up for failure. There is nothing worse than thinking you have the worse life.. but I learn to embrace the people who I never could understand, had trouble accepting. I guess one can call it developing a sense of compassion.

Thanks to Deb for tagging me. Find out more about my writing endeavors and what kind of writing project am I doing over at my writing blog.

A Year in Review of Many Many Pieces

2007-12-30T14:32:00.000-08:00

I started this blog in April with the somewhat unsettling name "Pieces of Me" when I was looking to convey myself in a more personal way than my writer 'piece' of my writing blog. It began with writing about dilapidated looking windows on the kibbutz and then became somewhat of a blog in transition as I recorded my fears of settling in Squirrel Hill and unpacking miseries ashamed to admit that perhaps I was moving too quickly for myself.

In this four month period, we've managed to acclimate realizing that Pittsburgh is doable and livable. I've used this blog to vent, share, and become a blog readership which has not fully taken off the ground since I still feel quite unsettled since arriving here but whe I read the first early posts I realize I was quite naive in thinking it's just a 'move'.

This brings me to a case in point: the world is an unsettling place to be in right now. I want our leaders back, I want the truth back, I want old writer and non-writer friends back in my living room of my childhood home so I can feel 'safe' again. (I think about this a lot.) I've also joined a LJ community and the readerships gather a good social networking community.

Writing has become that void I once thought could be severed easily, but is actually representing many pieces of me. I am slowly trying to find the one piece that fits. I've written web articles, magazine articles, blogs, journals, LJ diatribes, stories - all weaving something of a bitter-sweet journey.

After what I am hearing from my teacher colleagues in Israel about the education scene, I don't know if I want to return back after my leave of absence for the upcoming 2008-2009 school year. I don't know if that is my place in my world as much as I miss our dear dear kibbutz home.

But I'm learning from my book proposal, taking yoga classes and writing for children, that I can take control of my own life. And perhaps this is what I was meant to do.

Professional blogging is one option. Writing for magazines is another. As I said, I'm starting to write for children and mustering the courage. But first there's my book proposal, which I must must send out. I take each day at a day. I know I must research before making any decisions and I would like to extend this small community I already have to include those I have not yet 'met'.

What started as a kibbutz blog has emerged as a transatlantic blog reflecting real dreams, aspirations and goals. (I won't bother you with this right now) I know I need to update this blog in terms of more current activity such as my reading nightable, tips, excellent sites, which is actually the main content areas of my writing blog which I started in October of 2006.

But for now, I am taking the rest of today and a bit of tomorrow to relish in the fact that we've survived, Ivry is three years old tomorrow and today is our wedding anniversary of five years.

So, how do you sum up your year in review?

Soup Memories - Hinda Czernick z"l

2007-12-25T05:00:00.000-08:00

It is especially during the holiday season, when I can't help but think about Grandma aka. Hinda Czernick z"l. She died in 1995 when I was in Israel. I am dedicating this blog entry to her, as I try to find a 'home' for her and all the memories of her. In "Soup Memories," I describe her habit and predictability of cooking and how important that element is in parenting our own children..

************************************************************************************

She was a short woman who needed some heights. So she cooked in high heeled pumps, back to us in a dark housedress. She hardly talked.

Grandma served the soup in white porcelain bowls always with one thick big matzah ball and heavy chicken broth. We all sipped the soup with gusto. When I wanted to break the heavy silence, I slurped. This irritated my mom and she would say firmly: “Dorit, stop that.” My brother giggled. When my mother collected the soup plates, she would always say: “Ma, this soup is out of the world.”

Sometimes Grandma would add plain white rice to the soup. The broth always left us so full. We could never understand why there were so many meat and chicken courses afterwards.
We never bothered Grandma when she was cooking. The kitchen was her space. When our cousins, aunts and uncles left, we went to the broom closet, then headed afterwards to the bedroom with our magic brooms.

No Guarantees!

2007-12-21T12:19:00.001-08:00

There are no guarantees to life. I'm learning that now.

Especially after six - to seven hours writing days and still feeling that maybe nobody is really going to publish about this topic even though it's a real hot one now in the face of literacy especially early ESL Literacy. (my twelve years of work)

But then again, I have to constantly remind myself that I am writing for the experience of getting closer to a dream and in fact, there are always going to be rejection notices.

So what dreams are you pursuing of late? Merry Christmas!

Thursday Thirteen

2007-12-12T17:46:00.000-08:00

Thirteen Good and Important Things that Happened this Week ....

1. I am making deliberate daily progress with the book project. I don't compromise writing daily, and I don't give up even though during the last few weeks I almost felt I wanted to.

2. I am revising a PB "To the Right of the Bridge" and I finally got a chance to revise it and read it aloud to my writing group.

3. I am finding time to be more social ... mainly virtually but hopefully also offline as well.

4. Isn't it time to start becoming more conscious of your goals? I'm finding it hard to visualize mine so I am working on first visualizing myself producing a list which hopefully will help me start somewhere.

5. Ivry had a beautiful Chanukah party at the JCC. The cards I prepared were lovely. I'm glad I found the right words to top off the Chanukah moment - hello Hallmark! I've posted a short video of it and a few pictures to go along.

6. I got an email today inquiring if I was interested in a part-time teaching job at Point Park University.

7. Haim and I are spending more quality time together. He really gives me the support and piece of mind I need in order to write.

8. I am becoming more conscious of how I sit, use my body especially in long sitting positions. Hello again to Yoga.

9. My old high school friend gave birth to a baby girl. I'm looking forward to pictures.

10. Haim's employers are happy with his work.

11. I am visiting and leaving comments on some really nice blogs. There are a lot of talented writers out there.

12. I am finding realizing that it pays to become part of a community of children's writers. I wish I had enough funds for a SCWBI membership... *sigh* maybe next year.

13. I try to do something good for somebody.. whether it's giving flowers, sending an e-card, complimenting the librarian for her fine work or my mother's home attendant.

Bonus: Ivry just loves the stories I brought him from the library. My latest childhood favorite is Caps for Sale.

What good things happened (or are happening) to you this week?

Have a good TT!

Thursday Thirteen - Amazing Snow Things

2007-12-06T05:14:00.000-08:00

See my previous post on the snow's first impression. This is simply an addition to the list. My the week has flown by fast. What a beautiful sunny day. Happy TT Everyone!

1. Icicles on metal
2. Watching Ivry make a snowball
3. Finding a fresh snowy path
4. Memories
5. The tired slumber one feels racing to drink a cup of cocoa after trudging through a pile of snow.
6. Reading lots of books and finding amazing images to shoot in the snow realizing they've probably been photographed already.
7. Reading "Froggy Gets Dressed" to Ivry
8. Watching Ivry try and eat the snow
9. Watching this cute website sent by a friend. You'll like it. Guaranteed!
10. Praying
11. Watching the Chanukah lights die low
12. Pretending I'm a child again making snow angels
13. Waiting for Haim to come home so we can share our little 'snow tales'

Happy TT!

Snow! Snow! Snow!

2007-12-05T14:14:00.000-08:00

It's a winter wonderland here in Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh. The wonder of it is the soft purple hues splattered around, then watching Ivry in his just fitting three year old snowsuit watching the tracks his stroller makes in the fresh snow.

I didn't post any pictures of its fresh impression on me; I'm sure you all have your own vivid memories, mine is just another 'image' - simple and pure - baby's first whites second to that of my childhood.

Time to fry doughnuts, make potato latkes along with my nest (nope, I'm not pregnant) reading applesauce recipes, figuring out which books are the best to read and looking forward to another writing day - trudging my suitcase in the dark snow to and from the library. Snowflakes equal progress...the thoughts consolidate and bring out the best in me... and hopefully in you too.

I miss snow angles, lifting my tongue out to catch the snow. I remember the day when I watched Charlie Brown's Christmas and Thanksgiving in one Hodge pie.

In the snow back from the library earlier this afternoon, a Chabad fellow asks me if I'm Jewish and I reply 'yes' and he produces a menorah and a small box of donuts from the heavy laden plastic bags. Knowing me, I take only the donuts. I don't take more than I need - plus I miss when my mom didn't buy me any donuts so I snuck out and bought my own from the money I stole from her deep leather bag. But this Chabad fellow is just doing me a mitzva, and I can only thank him in return and hope that he has a beautiful Chanukah. So I wish him that...again in the snow.

I told that Chabad guy that I have my own menorah since five. I don't go into detail and tell him that Mom bought it when she visited Israel for the last time ... although I want to. And then I'll be forced to take the menorah...

Last night, Ivry and I lit our first candle together in Pittsburgh. I remember him dearly at one, two and now three years old ... and the blessings just keep coming with the next rounds of snows. And I put a series of Psalms of meditative music to keep me in trance with the purple hues, and hope yet for another miracle when my mom and me can be together ... again.

My First Video

2007-11-24T17:52:00.000-08:00

I finally realized that there was a video function on our digital camera ... hello??

We are in NYC for an extended Thanksgiving holiday. It is in my mom's Greenwich Village apartment I learned the video function on our digital camera. I am so lame. I guess we all come full circle. Eventually.

This first memorable video is of my husband and my mom dancing to Cole Porter's "I Love Paris." Ella Fitzgerald's voice is just stunning and to embelish the blues, is the ensuing dialogue between Haim and my mom, and then there's little old me waving in the background waving copiously. How silly can one thirty seven year old get?

My mom has Alzheimer's and tonight, she became my mommy again for a brief while. Music is an amazing spiritual healer. Her face lit up like the Christmas tree I saw earlier this evening in Bryant Park. Wow.

A Cloudy Day

2007-11-20T11:15:00.000-08:00

Here I am, again at the library drafting out yet another clean sheet of paper for my book on early literacy education.

I left my suitcase of ideologies on a kibbutz just a few months ago – farmland territory under some nebulous looking cloud that frightened even a scarecrow but with lots of pansies to keep you dreaming. I love planting, weed work, watching the clouds move, eating fresh mint, but when those clouds on the other side of the Atlantic got too dark and a bit boring, I knew something was obviously wrong.

It all made of course even better sense when I boarded the plane, taking my redheaded son and husband with me to start afresh writing on the other side of the Atlantic, figuring out our next steps one day at a time.

It’s been raining on the Eastern coast, one straight pour after another and I had one of those flashbacks again…

“left, right, left, right… listening to the marching when I was in the Israeli army twenty years earlier. Hearing the soldiers march while in the bunk always makes you think about all sorts of strange things… and ideas… and ideals…

“left, right, left, right,” … like aunt roses’ clock twenty five years earlier in Far-Rockaway – quick flashback to the one thing I liked to do most – observing the big hand of the twelve and then my own small hand wondering which word I would write, if and where, and when??

When I was young, momma pulled me away from the waves afraid I would get sucked under by the current, I knew she meant years later when she said ‘ don’t go into the arts – ‘it’ll suck you dry.’

It’s always easier to stay close or be the closest one to the shore. Watch the dirty looking clouds. The rainy kinds ones I like the best. But even if you don’t cross your ‘I’ and dot your ‘t’s, at least you know you have to write whatever comes out and that perhaps has also made a difference.

The last page I left my t and I uncrossed, it looked unfinished but that made me feel perhaps a bit better. Oh and I keep on forgetting to bring my umbrella. But I guess that doesn’t count, does it?

**************************

After a bit of a hiatus, I decided to send this post to the Write-Away contest at Michele's blog which I read fervently.

Thursday Thirteen - The Smaller But Important Things

2007-11-14T17:58:00.000-08:00

Hopefully, I’ll be up to date with this post. Keeping a schedule of course, is another thing. Here goes:

I see the signs of modern life taking its toil everywhere: the fast and junk food, self-help groups, commercials for prescribed medications,.

Then there is the loneliness described by the faces of anxious and tired women: waiting on or for customers, talking at bus stops, some trying to make conversation. Or closed off from the (working) world, listening to itunes, ipods, whatever. I never knew how lonely it all could be – until now – and especially as a mom.

As adults, we get sucked in by our own thoughts. Almost like furnishing or designing a room – before the wallpaper, there’s the blue print – the rawness of emotion and love, not only with others but within yourself.

The small things in life are indeed free. I’m grateful to have come across most of these in my short lifetime.

Consider these options as useful practices in your daily creative life, as you create the residual yearning of mental, emotional, spiritual and social growth.

1. Write about it. Every so often, I’ll goad the pen (or computer) and dip into time. My characters provide me with the love. I just write about them. It all takes time since writing is also a process of maturity and maturation. Since fiction is lifting characters of my family and friends does not merely mean require writing about them , I wait until they give the love back to me. And they do; For this reason alone, I truly find the creative process therapeutic.

2. Finding the comfort in my husband and son. I spend many hours of the day alone. Writing. Sometimes I enter blank and dark and dusty and unfamiliar corners. I need to share. My husband and child are always there for me. A loving home provides a foundation. (can’t remember – must be from a quote??)

3. Looking through photo albums

4. Playing old videos and tapes. Recently I uncovered some of my mom’s old piano music. Since her Alzheimer’s, she hasn’t been able to play a single note, but the mazurkas remind me of those old ballerina dances when I twirled in front of a full length mirror.

5. Smiling at people – complete strangers. I’m not a smiley person. I keep everything hidden. Very well. However, I’m turning outward. Pittsburghians are a friendly bunch and it’s not hard to practice smiling. On them. NYC – forget it. Well, maybe not.

6. Call up an old friend or family member. Or send a beautiful Jacqui Lawson card. When I came back to the States after my 18 year hiatus from Israel (I visited Israel every few years or so), I immediately got back in touch with a few old friends I had not spoken to in years reminding me why I cared or respected them.

7. Visiting special places that have meaning of significance. For me two summers ago, this meant visiting my Dad’s old art studio atop one of the roofs where I grew up in Greenwich Village, Manhattan, USA. Out of eagerness and desperation to see what was still there after twenty years, I finally got the maintenance supervisor to open it only to find it full of shambles but the rusty ol’ chock-full-of nuts cans of bolts and screws were still there – as if they hadn’t left its twenty year positions.

8. Going through baby books. Reading the words of love. Finding the love and connection all over again. It’s a very meaningful experience.

9. Reading old books – especially children’s.

10. Say old jokes, songs, anecdotes, stories you remember as a child. The things I would do when I babysat years ago, I now do with my son. Coming full circle.

11. Listening to old albums (I still have an old 1970’s stereo system in my mom’s apartment)

12. Help an elderly or frail person – volunteering. (I plan to do this soon)

13. Love thy neighbor….write in your journal… exercise… whatever it takes to find the love again.

HAPPY TT EVERYONE!!

Moving Slowly

2007-11-09T09:29:00.000-08:00

At 12:30 in the afternoon, I look at what I have written for the day. I'm afraid I haven't written much. Just a lot of rewrite, research and rewrite on my book project. It's a fully ambitious piece of writing much of it centered on my twelve years of teaching. Only I spend a lot of time moving from web page to another, kitchen, and chair again.

Nope, no writer's block. Just taking my time to feel the day, understand it so it can make sense for me. In essence, I am supposed to be on sabbatical and I'm young, but the feeling is practically weird.. I can take my time waking up in the morning, smell the cement from outside, hear the rain drops frall on the air conditioner, SLOWLY read the words on other peoples' blogs and websites and SLOWLY, try to find a connection with myself, the day, my life.

Nighttime .. and I jumped fast forward to daytime to be by myself, to claim the writing hour of the day. There are certain parts of the day that are my habitual routines, a few fiercely private. Today, I decided to take the day off for again, some serious writing, but this time to be at home. Technically, I'm supposed to be celebrating my birthday with my husband by walking and exploring parts of downtown Pittsburgh, only I can't seem to get up from the chair and leave the computer screen especially since I know I will barely have time for any research and writing and making sense of this book project this weekend.

*sigh* the price for making a cost effective decision

Birthday Wishes - A Very late Thursday Thirteen

2007-11-04T06:53:00.000-08:00

Pre-Halloween Reading

Hey, where's my mommy?

It's cool being King!

I'm tired from trick or treating.

Who says Thursday Thirteen can't be a Sunday Thirteen? I have been hibernatin' again, this time beneath the sodden last few unpacked boxes of stuff...like finding the story I have been needing to write or to claim the words and choose them wisely.

Crossing oceans is like making sense of the water, the waves and ... the words that I write. Behind words of course, are thoughts and bundles beneath them are habits stringed through many many years.

I think rushed, try to write in between dishes, laundry, clutter. I need my peace, quiet, sanity. I want to devote myself utterly to this writing project; it symbolizes all that I have become and all I want to be.

My birthday comes on November 10th - a Saturday. I will make a cake from the mix we received from the Squirrel Hill Food Pantry. I have a few birthday wishes I would like to make for myself and my family in order to beat the clock. :)

1. To live a sense of fulness, harmony and balance.
2. To see the bigger vision of writing, not just writing for the day.
3. To have the vision to break certain habits of thought like impulsiveness which seep into my writing, synchronicities of the moments, relationships.
4. To get a contract with a publisher for the book project I am currently writing for my sabbatical.
5. To be able to claim my writing in both its form, art and money. Sticking to a plan of what to write is better than not.
6. To claim my spirituality - practice it gratefully, open to it indulgently.
7. To be a full mommy. Ivry is a very special little boy and he is growing so beautifully.
8. To make more women friends.
9. To develop more of my passions that I have left on the shelf since early adulthood.
10. To hopefully become a better blogger.
11. To enjoy the writing of my sabbatical and enjoy the writing process rather than finding the answers
12. I wish for an career path that will bring me together with the values, goals, ambitions that I am looking for.
13. To live less a life of 'ifs' and more a life of 'here and now' and 'yes!"

Bonus: To always live a life less full than planned {and learn how to catch the moment} so as to leave room for the journey to completeness. (a cup half empty is better than cup that is too full)

Have a great Sunday!

Thursday Thirteen #5 - Hibernation

2007-10-25T14:14:00.000-07:00

Well, here I am - doing it all over again at another Thursday Thirteen. I haven't posted much in the last week - the reason? Hibernation. The ideas have been percolating. Well, that's a lame excuse. So, I'll spare you the other if's and why's, although you'll find I'm greatly amused by some.

So let's get it on...since I'm rather late posting this up.

1. I've been observing a lot. Walking around. A lot. All over Squirrel Hill. And taking buses. It's a great place to walk and it's not misty or freezing cold so I don't feel chilled all over again. When you feel you've come to a rusty spot at night or during the day or in your mind, walk. It helps wonders.

2. Trying to reconnect with family and friends, finding it's easier said than done. The culture of voice mail. Woa is me! I think my name is all over the place. Where is everybody??

3. Getting into the fall swing of things. My-my. Halloween is just everywhere I go - from crisp fall collages on doors' to strange icy looking faces to make that superstitious eye again.

4. I've been hittin' the library. Seriously, I'm mad about the Squirrel Hill library. When I can't escape the mind of my ideas, I swamp and vegetate over a book or better yet, there's a book fair this weekend, anybody?

5. We've been digging up dinosaur bones at the Pittsburgh Museum. Walking through Schenley Park. Watching birds in the sky. I know I'm on a sabbatical but it's also fun to be a mom. Especially in the evening when Ivry comes from the JCC. He's hold his little black spider and says, "Mommy, food!" So I know I'm there for him. It pares or rather balances the hours in front of a screen.

6. Exploring Pittsburgh. Beside the Steelers, we need to know and explore the other areas. So we did that today giving me a much needed respite from the computer to put things in perspective. We went to Shadyside to pick up Haim's check (yay!) and then via Penn Avenue down to the Strip district to pick up some wholesome small bag of wheat, hummus, (we miss Osem from back home, but this one was pretty flavorful), a homemade bottle of olive oil, some dried peaches and mangoes, bread, did I mention hummus? (Israelis says 'hoomoos'... I'm telling you the flavor is in the pronunciation!) We also purchased a new cell at the AT and T place in the most desolate and abandoned looking street. Making our way downtown doing some banking stuff before heading back to Squirrel Hill. Pittsburgh's districts are so regional and so close in proximity. So different than NYC .. but I digress.

7. Finding time to be with Hubbie. Need I say more?

8. Doing some reflecting. And researching about second careers. The career counselor gave me some homework to do.. Again, more voice calls. My name's everywhere.

9. Finding time to exercise.. I'm taking yoga twice a week at the JCC. It's about time. Nothing like yoga to help start a mindful, peaceful day.

10. Attending a writing group twice a week and an Israeli's women's group once a month.

11. Talking to strangers. The nice lady downstairs misses her granddaughter and surprised Ivry with a stuffed toy pumpkin with a happy face. I yelped secretly in glee. Ivry responded to her by saying he was going to call his uncle Elan. (He lives out in San Diego) She didn't understand him as he said half of the sentence in Hebrew, but we both ended up introducing ourselves which struck a very short but nice chat.

12. Finding my American side. This is both confusing and interesting. It's weird too. I haven't been able to find the right hide so I'm hibernating until I find the right insides. But no thanks, no junk food, especially Wendy's or McDonald's for me. Ick. Don't know how people live on that stuff.

13. Finding my spiritual side. Every Friday night, I debate whether to go shul shopping. So far, I've attended only one shul. But I have my eye on another... and another... just keep hopping.

Happy TT Everybody!

Thursday Thirteen #4

2007-10-18T07:52:00.000-07:00

Thirteen Explanations behind my son's name: "Ivry David"

I think it's high time I got to some serious explanations - especially about my son and his name. I have yet to hear a name like his in Israel let alone in the Diaspora. So, here's a few for starters...

1. David is after my husband's late father who died of a stroke in 1991. He was a charismatic man, very intelligent and worked for the Israel intelligence - the Mossad; it's sad he is in heaven and can't see this adorable little gingy. Haim misses him so.

2. When I returned to work after maternity leave, my students asked me the name of our son and I replied: "Ivry" - their response: "Oh, like Ivry Lider." Many youngsters (my former students) in Israel know of Ivry Lider as the gay musician who is the leading musical voice of this pop's generation, but, many people of our generation in Israel know of a special man named David Ivry. In my opinion, he is the one who should be running the Israeli government. Aside from acting as the Israeli ambassador, he also was the ninth commander of the Israeli air force during the Persian Gulf War. You can read all about him here.

3. Ivry - in Biblical Hebrew, Ivry means 'the first'. - HaIvri.

4. I just love the sound of Ivry. Especially when he was in my tummy. It was just one of those names that had to be. When my husband suggested it, I knew it was a special match.

5. Ivry has the special blend of 'ivory' and 'eve' - two of my favorite words from the English language.

6. We wanted to have an original name; at the time there were two many 'Tomers,' 'Eyals,' and 'Alons' for us to even consider.

7. From a numerological point of view, Ivry has two syllables 'Iv - ry'. This is of special importance when a numerologist at his birth, pronounced his number of 7. She said that great things are in store for him.

8. Back to our David Ivry - he holds special relevance to our name choice as he is Israel's hero, but he is modest. No blog or web site promotion for him. This is how in essence we want our son to grow up. Do the important things for the good of humanity but, from the side drop without any fanfare.

9. Initially, I had wanted to call our munchkin 'David' - so we got the best of both worlds.

10. Since he is the first son - it is appropriate to have something of 'first' nature - thus the Biblical explanation of 'HaIvri.'

11. David the king - was a gingy like our Ivry. Well, not exactly the main reason behind his name choice, but a side bit of information.

12. From the minute I looked at the sonogram, I knew ... Ivry it is!

13. It's simply an enchanting name!

Happy TT!

I Had Forgotten

2007-10-09T10:30:00.000-07:00

Now that the boxes are mainly unpacked, and Haim just started his new nifty job and the Jewish holidays behind us, there is room to grow and learn something new every day.. especially with my writing.

Beyond the glare of the computer screen, I had forgotten the candy corn kid in me... many many years back.

Well, today it happened. Of course the stores are decorated with that Halloween theme and fall's crisp in everywhere I look. I see the skeleton's and I remember the boo child who loved the Halloween invitations or the fake cobwebs and rubbery bones at the Greenwich Village House Party Store. (yes, it's there there!) But for some adult torn reason, I had overlooked that that child was also hiding in.. FOOD. Food Glorious Food!

Two nights ago, I almost got so mad at Haim for bringing a sugar one layer cake (which tasted like three layers to me) but ended up eating a few hearty slices myself. I think it was the coconut slices mixed in caramel, full of obvious cane sugar that brought me to it. For a very quick dash of a second, I stepped back into time eating candy corn, feeling the fake wool on my costume and dashed out into the hallways of Westbeth to find my friend Laura, so we could go trick or treating.

I'm very very close to home (only five hours away) but with every bite, of that cake the kid pops out - loud and strong...

Now, if I could only find a taker to finish and nibble off the cake. Too bad I don't have a teacher's room to bring it to, but oh, I'm not worried. Between the three of us, something's bound to happen...

So, what food edibles bring back the child in you?

A Special Moment

2007-10-06T11:43:00.000-07:00

Anybody who knows my Ivry, knows how verbal and loving he can be. Ivry isn't really such a newcomer as us and he has adapted after all, to the JCC, Davis Park across from us, the synagogue and Chabad, the bagels we buy - everything. He has a phenomenal memory and doesn't miss a thing.

Today, after participating in a short storyhour at the Squirrel Hill family hour, Ivry met up with Adi. The hug he gave that little boy quickly made me feel at ease; it's different here in Amerca. Truthfully, I don't care if another little boy we don't know hugs Ivry. My feeling is that we don't need to establish invisible physical boundaries so early in a child's life.

Some Updates and Thoughts

2007-10-06T05:12:00.000-07:00

Haim returned today from his first day of work. I never thought I would cry so after hearing his first day consisting of cutting vegetables, fish (which he abhors with a passion) aside from giving advice to older diabetics not to eat Halva. I'm crying *NOT* because of his intolerance to fish or standing on his feet all day, but for all that we have done from applying for a greencard to the preplanning before, to walking along the broken sidewalks to find our way around Pittsburgh and saving myself for sake and thought of a broken ankle. (thank god it's just a sprain, just painful at times and annoying to wobble on from time to time especially uphill.)

We are your typical immigrants living out the American dream, just what Hollywood ordered and what Amy Tan writes about. Welcome to America.And I know that he will still to continue to cut fish for the next thirty days for the passion, the dream, the hope and the vision of trying to make it in a country that isn't his.

The family therapist says I have cultural disorder and for the most part, I feel it has subsided a bit with time. But I am so happy when an old friend reminds me of high school moments and I remember I have a past here. Mommyhood and New immigrant syndrome can't take those precious memories away.

Thursday Thirteen #3 - Reminders

2007-10-04T07:36:00.000-07:00

Oh my god! I forgot it was Thursday already! Boy, the week passes by so quickly. For those of you who are just learning, this Thursday Thursday is the second of my journey in America. After nineteen years of living in Israel, I've decided to take a year off to try something new. As a bilingual and dual citizen, I take great pride living in both countries. Anyhow...

There are those things that remind me I am in America.

1. The sweet smell of grass, the intentional business of God. It reminds me of laziness, summer camps, hikes in the woods pretending to be Indians, lazy Sundays, picking Queen Ann's Lace in Virginia and a dozen of more other things.

2. Watching Squirrels running across the street.

3. Having 24 access to supermarkets, drugstores, etc and being able to buy whatever I need without having to worry of course the astronomical prices that Israel market is infamous for.

4. Libraries, libraries, libraries! I cannot stress this enough - When a state, country, county what have you does not take stock and pride in its library, that is the ultimate confirmation that something's utterly wrong. How can literacy levels be expected to go up if people irrespective of incomes do not have access to books. The Squirrel Hill Library in Pittsburgh is such a user friendly place. I'm so happy to work here.

5. Wonderful access to the city's Parks - Frick and Schenely Parks to name a few.

6. The fact that there is a 2 day weekend, that for 19 years I had forgotten about and it makes a world of difference in terms of the work week.

7. The 'have a nice day' and 'thank you very much' that Israeli smirk over, is actually a very nice (and important ) ritual. Maybe it is a filler or a distraction, but when you don't have immediate family in the place you live like me, this makes a world of difference in your feeling of well-being. Plus people in Pittsburgh are so nice! It's true what people say about Pittsburghians.

8. It's the little things that help you get by. The fact that your groceries are bagged here in America. I appreciate and like that very much.

9. The American holidays. I miss Thanksgiving and Halloween so much. i love watching the pumpkins glow in the dark and kids yelling: "trick or treat!" It reminds me of the days in Westbeth when we would spread shaving cream on the banisters and my mom (god bless her soul) would tape a pencilled 'take one' sign pointing to a box of Branches' candy corn boxes which we would find strewn all over the hallway before taking off to the famous Ralph Lee's Greenwich Village parade, which was so incredibly popular in the seventies. I am so happy that you can read now all about it in Wikipedia.It gives me such pride as I was a part of it.

10. The Foliage Season that is the beauty of New England. A year ago I pronounced to my husband Haim that I want to see myself walking through a farm or a hill with the true foliage season. I still have time to experience that after 19 years of being on the other side of the Atlantic ocean.

11.The mass amounts of language and cultures all in one nation.

12. The ability to take a plane, train, car anywhere and experience oceans, trails, mountains and fresh water ponds and lakes - the best this country has to offer. The same goes for hoping on back to visit NYC!

And one bonus: the mass amounts of free workshops, services and programs that libraries, community centers and other resources provide. I think this is extremely important. Don't you?

So, what do you take pride in? What journeys do you see yourself planning? What 'does it' for you?

Happy TT!

Thursday Thirteen #2

2007-09-27T08:00:00.000-07:00

What Being a New Immigrant (and Jewish) in Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh has Taught Me

Here is my first Thursday Thirteen from Pittsburgh. I hope it will be a new beginning!

Eating in a rainy succa, shaking my son's newspaper-made lulav, finding the way along broken sidewalks to spend our first Succot are all part of my unexpected adventures. But really they mean something more than just finding my way in an unknown territory. Every bit of experience is part of a whole.

1. The importance of hesed - 'giving'. As a new immigrant (American) living in Pittsburgh I am learning the importance of community. Often I feel alone, but when your community gives to you, you can feel the spiritual and emotional comfort knowing you're not alone.

2. The feeling of togetherness - Beyond the Jewish symbolism, my own personal succa is a Diasporatic recipe for overcoming the unexpected.

3. Honoring my parents. I may choose to feel resentment, but on Hol Hamoed, I choose to feel an inner sense of peace and gratitude for the secret inner love and support even if they didn't know how to show it and even if I am miles away from home.

4. A Jewish home. Even if we don't have a suca, we are able to light the candles, feel the love and find a connection in our prayers, our rituals, our love as family.

5. Lighting the candles. Being in a diaspora after living many years in Israel, I sometimes feel I am in the dark, but my heart has not hardened into something non-earthy and Jewishy.

6. Taking it One Day (or step)at a Time. Each day brings new and unfamiliar experiences. No matter how bad my day is, I will always have a family to go to for Friday dinner, I will always have somebody to talk to, I won't ever be alone. Feeling alone is one thing, being alone is another.

7. The importance of Offline Groups. I joined my first children and adult non-fiction writing group in Pittsburgh earlier this week. I gave feedback to two writers whose work I have never heard, and the feeling was good.

8. The importance of thinking good thoughts. Need I say more?

9. To do the same things I would do back home. I may be miles away from home, but this doesn't mean I can't do the same spiritual, emotional , social activities. They'll just be different. (Oh, that reminds me - I need to call my spiritual teacher)

10. I am slowly finding my niche as a woman. There is a Jewish community in Squirrel Hill, and then there's the Jewish women's community. I realized this when I joined the [Israeli] women's group in Pittsburgh last week. Before I'm a mom, I'm a woman. Actually, I'm a girl/daughter, adolescent, young adult, wife, mommy - all in that order. Welcome to the cycle of life.

11. The importance of blogging. I am steadily climbing to the blogging world - though I'm far from it. I still have reservations in my heart when talking to people. Deep down, I'm a fiercely private person and feel much safer when writing. I've angled with the beast of emotion. Frankly, there are many safe bloggers that I would one day like to meet, but for now, it's just a matter of feeling comfortable with the 'blogging voice' which is so very different.

12. Finding a spot of nature. I can feel really connected to my spiritual, intellectual and emotional nature when I'm surrounded by a nice plot of land. Hopefully, when my ankle god willing heals, I'll make my way to one of those nice trails out on Frick park. But for now, I just need to find my way.

Happy TT! May it be as glorious as you make it to be!

The First Day

2007-09-25T12:50:00.000-07:00

In just one hour exactly, H will be starting his new job orientation. I'm right now in the library drafting the first chapter of my book. It's quite quiet here (as libraries should be) and I'm emerging from my shell. (taking a break)

How far have we all come ? In this little bold moment of thought, I realize that we all three are heart set on beginnings.

There are so many people young and old whom I've never seen. They have their own beginnings too. Each and every time they walk into the library. The first book one pulls off the shelves is a beginning. the baby who cries in the aisles alongside me, is a first (of many) consequences remembering I've been there too.

Then there's the...

1.little girl in a uniform following an adult around watching me as I touch type.
2. adolescent who asks the librarian about Palm Reading - she reads sections in whispers in a very smooth undulating voice, but I can hear every word she is harpering on; she's laughing in between sentences.

They face their beginnings as I do mine as I wonder if Haim got the 64 a to take him to Giant Eagle in Shadyside on time or, am I still a lost cause?

Some Thoughts on Yom Kippur in Pittsburgh

2007-09-22T15:37:00.000-07:00

I leave you with a small poem of this year's Yom Kippur experiences.
Have an easy fast to all those who are fasting, and G'mar Hatima Tova.God bless.

Against that rabbi's prayer and speech
I concentrate on the forgiven and the last
time I tried to make it and daven without
stepping on the lady's shoes she didn't seem to mind
when I told her I was new in town while she
prayed and looked at me and the last
light I forgot to turn off but it's okay

well, I don't know many people here just the
few who helped me with plates and dishes and
now that I can cook without a problem I can
daven as well isn't it nice to know that without a
former caution but I call the cards now
I'm the mommy and don't know still how to pray
when was the last time I was in a synagogue on Yom Kippur
in the United States I miss my small one inch garden where I
can eat cake and watch the crumbs on his face in the dark
and the kibbutz ladybugs on the leaf while Erick Carle speaks to me
from a 1980 flick

when Grandma told me I couldn't eat and I tried to hold
my tongue and now I just can't stop whenever
my little gingy cries I forget the last ring of the shofar

two handles down I can see the moms parking their
carriages and elegant dresses for service
when it becomes fitting I suppose I'll go down too
when the dark corridor becomes less spooky I'll know
which page to turn and bend my knees to the east or west
oh I forget never got that one figured out perhaps not today
when was the last time I just wanted to eat soup...oh never mind

Beginning to Feel At Home

2007-09-20T18:23:00.001-07:00

I daresay it's a small step but an important one. I finally realized what the doctor ordered. I put up an Indian looking spread that instantaneously generated warmth to the drabby cream colored walls. It's amazing what an effect it had upon me. It reverberated the safety signals setting off an inner echoing: "Okay, you can write. It's safe now."

I'm a trooper but I'm tired of sticking it up. Plus, I guess I'm only human. Little Ivry wanted so badly to know what I was up to as I stuck the last of the cotton underneath the Styrofoam. (I don't want to mess around with the walls.) I wish I had the patience enough to tell why 'home' is so important - it's the little things that bring more order to the clutter around us. Plus a little lesson to the redhead wouldn't have hurt.

I wobbled back on my feet and told him to get to bed. He understood what that didn't mean to him at the given moment like all two year olds do!

I was hooked - from one spread to another another table, I felt mystified by this thing called 'home' - what else can I feel other than aiming to feel safe? Inside I'm still a panic bomb, but this spread really does it for me and now, I can perhaps find a friend around here - and then I won't feel so lonely.

Anybody else have experiences and/or advice on how they settled in and 'built' their home?

It's always fitting to hear such 'journey experiences.'

Some Nice News

2007-09-18T16:54:00.000-07:00

I had been antsy all morning. Haim went off for a job interview and I had a phone interview as a freelance student evaluator. The interviewer had apparently forgotten the appointment, but I did not. Like a good student, I sat with my recommendations, interview tips, questions ... and no interview..

After receiving an email of apology, I still don't know if there is another schedule.

I hate not knowing where I stand.

So I tried amidst WIFI issues (or lack thereof) to focus on the 'here and now' - or in simple terms, my writing since that is what grounds me and gives me precedence for my day.

However, I couldn't stand the temptation.. Did my dear Haim get the job? I don't like to speak superstitiously of things that have not yet happened (or will happen) but...

Finally, three hours later after his interview time, he told me he had been offered the job. I hope it works out for him - working as a manager of Shadyside's Giant Eagle of the kosher deli department. It's better than working as a security guard; it can open doors for future positions as a buyer or purchaser in the food industry, which is what he wants.

Ah, now I/we can relax a bit and not worry about jobs. It's certainly a load off our minds. After all this time, we might be in a better position after all. Most of all, I'm happy for him. Wish him luck!

Thank you for reading this.

Feeling A Bit Better

2007-09-16T14:53:00.001-07:00

I was able to go down to the basement and do a load of laundry. I am always relieved to do laundry; it's a 'load' off my mind. I'm glad the stability ligaments of my left foot are slowly healing. Just a few days ago, I could hardly stand on it and the feeling somehow got me warped in a panic, the kind that instantly kicks off all sorts of unhappy thoughts... would I stay like this forever?

I got there before the dryer finished its cycle. It's not often I stand out waiting it out. Again another series of mundane thoughts: here's one for you - why are basements always painted grey? I never could quite understand...

On the way back up, I could feel myself putting effort in my steps, as the steps were quite steep but I was grateful to know my clothes had dried and my boys hadn't yet come home leaving me extra computer time.

I love quiet Sunday afternoons such as these. sometimes they can be too quiet and then I have trouble finding something that reminds me of childhood.

What part of Sundays do you like?

Hearing the Shofar From My Bed

2007-09-14T16:14:00.000-07:00

I had wanted to hear the shofar being that it's our first Rosh Hashana in the Diaspora. My left foot was hurting terribly - Haim just left with Ivry to hear the ram's horn. Two minutes after they had left, there was an incredible knock on the door - I figured it was Haim again. Perhaps he had forgotten his keys? Again, a stronger knock.

"Who is it?" I called.

"Your husband said that you sprained your ankle and you wanted to hear the shofar." a voice said.

It was the Chabad people from the Yeshiva across the street.

"Do you want to hear the shofar?" he asked.

"Yes, but I can't move from the bed." I said loudly. [Actually, I wasn't properly dressed either.]

So he stood from behind a locked door, blowing the ram's horn for a good minute.

"Have a very sweet New Year and feel better." I could hear him well.

"Thank you so much."

As he played, I thought I would probably be the neighbor's enemy after that, but then I remembered... Wait, this is Squirrel Hill - an island of peaceful coexistence between Jews and blacks. I had to remind myself the edginess I would feel in New York City was totally different here. I had nothing to fear.

It was such a blessing to be able to get door to door shofar service. I will remember this moment and the kindness of that man's heart and the Chabad community. I don't think I'll ever feel alone. And thank you hubbie. That was so sweet of you.

My Left Foot

2007-09-13T20:00:00.000-07:00

On the day I sprained my left foot I thought I was still in control as my feet had stationed me with a sense of purpose all this time. I had never sprained a foot in my life. After all, I was a newcomer on my way to finding a job, renting an apartment, finding a new life in Pittsburgh, and trying to explain to my husband some of the cultural nuances I even found foreign after an eighteen year absence while living overseas.

And down I came together with my mother's adage: 'Don't be a worry bug, be a happy bug' as I tried to balance my son's stroller yet missed the step and banging my knee in the process.

I am not used to taking ginger steps. I am used to doing things my way, somewhat of an impulsive nature, knowing that my feet will always station me with stability. Well, my left foot was wavering in those first five minutes then the swelling and black and blue marks starting to appear, then emergency room visits, crutches. Yep, I was no longer in control.

First it was my left eye and the erosion and now my left foot. Why is it that when physical mishaps occur, I suddenly start realizing the importance of life?

Well, this is what I am learning:

1. We are a family and we are in this together.

2. Never underestimate the power of a child's love.

3. Watch out where you walk - and in my case, where you step.

Obviously, I am still learning, so that is a good sign as all good learning should be. My toddler son is starting way earlier than me. After dinner tonight, he placed the ice-pack around a towel and guess where? On my left foot.

This post has been submitted to the Write-Away contest at Michele's blog. The subject of this month's theme is about 'learning.'

Taking it "Bird by Bird"

2007-09-10T13:13:00.000-07:00

In my former post I wrote about Anne Lamot and taking it "bird by bird."

I move slowly - try one little baby step on a time. Literally. Often I spend time mulling over words, sentences, thoughts. The library's a good place for that kind of introverted sort of research. It's a puzzling mystery, how words ever make it to the paper. They prefer to keep to their own microcosmic universe until I decide to let them free. Only lately, this hasn't been happening.

I can't believe I've taken a full year of sabbatical just to prove to myself that I can write a book: it sounds rather important and purposeful but, in reality, it's the hardest thing I've ever done. I'm a bit scared, guilty that I have all these waking hours of day to fill pieces of paper (or an empty computer screen in this case) and while I've unpacked thirty boxes, there are many more little cubicles of years of experience waiting to be opened.

This is the time when I need help. Or maybe just a few words of soul wisdom, or just somebody who's been there before and knows how to simply do good to others. So, I go now to my favorite writer: I have even gone so far as to try and imitate her style. Many writers starting out do. Let's hear it for Anne Lamott who always knows how to comfort a brave yet wavering writer soul in need.

But what I really need is to take my own advice and join a writer's group. Then I will feel better about all this.

Books and Seagulls, a few Reminders, and My Left Foot

2007-09-09T16:32:00.000-07:00

All morning long at the Western Penn Hospital, I hoped and prayed the ankle I twisted yesterday evening after missing the step while carrying Ivry's stroller wouldn't be fractured or broken. I've never sprained an ankle and never needed crutches. Until today. I hopped from room to room, from car to door, from the bathroom to Ivry.

In case you haven't noticed, we're right in the middle of unpacking our overseas shipping. There's nothing more comforting than filling up bookshelves with albums and listening to Ivry say, "Ani [I'm] a seagull," but not when your ankle is sprained. Not fun.

I thought a bit about seagulls. I wish I could fly like a seagull instead of propping my ankle with icepacks. It's such a debilitating feeling, reminding me of the post of "Writing in the Dark." This is one of those reminders that we never have that certainty or illusion of control. My mind thinks quicker than my left foot.

Words become lighter than air when I unpack all of Ivry's books and watch him silently turn the pages as if he's confirming the stories asking, "How do you say this in English?" and pointing to a bulldozer, digger. Signs of literacy. How comforting.

I believe in faith and hope and the spirit of being. But when I loose control, watch out. I become afraid and fear becomes my captive.

Two people who have deeply affected my life are no longer alive. I heard Luciano Pavoratti many times and read Madeline L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time a thousand times over. I no longer live in a comforting world.

Just for the record, I'm not such a great mom when I feel debilitated like this and especially when people I've never met personally enter and leave my life like this. Just like a twisted ankle, I become antsy and edgy especially when surrounded by thirty five unopened boxes. Ivry tries to understand my pain, but I am not such a great communicator as I have difficulty understanding these things myself.

Ivry wants to be in his own control flapping his arms, playing leapfrog with my body and I lie lethargic. It is times like these I turn to writing as an open voice hoping I won't feel under siege and turn to hear my prayers for a speedy recovery, for Haim to find a job, for getting through this period.

So I read Anne Lamot's Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith. Every word she writes is faith and spirit. Books can be great friends. I'm glad I got mine. Now, I just need to work on my patience and take it "bird by bird."

2043 Wightman Street

2007-09-05T18:22:00.000-07:00

That's our new address in Pittsburgh for this coming year. It's an apartment complex on the corner; first apartment I've ever rented. Yesterday we had the thrill of receiving post for the first time - Haim's social security number came in through!

Apartments, lifting Ivry's stroller up and down stairs, trying to figure out what in God's name is wrong with my and Haim's resumes is part of the new immigrant syndrome. Today at Haim's intake at the Career and Development Center in Squirrel Hill with an immigrant counselor, he was told that he needed to think in terms of America - culturally. Well, that makes perfect sense since I'm just right up there with Haim. I may have the American accent and all, but I feel utterly and completely displaced.

Funny, this feeling subsides when I walk down the perfectly manicured lawns of beautiful brick and stone houses. I feel I'm walking alongside a dream; one that I gently carved out one year ago. I'm not really in it - we are not really in it since there's so much to do until we can start bringing home a paycheck with no income coming in - lots going out. Now that Haim's social security came in through, I can literally write our address everywhere. A sign of the living.

We applied for social services today from one page click to another until the e-form was sent. I used to be ashamed of signing up my mom for social services but now my address is just one of many. But when Ivry cried today because we stayed for the first orientation dinner meeting for parents at the JCC instead of heading home, a bit of me cried too.

A Red Line of Happiness

2007-09-05T03:09:00.000-07:00

Imagine my happiness when I finally made my way to the Carnegie Library in Squirrel Hill yesterday afternoon. It's been years since I claimed my own public spaces; the public library used to be one of them until I began thinking I was good enough for a library. (Yes, I know it sounds weird.) But growing up alongside New York City's overwhelming array of books, made me feel much smaller than I really was.

Turns out that the glass contained edifice was actually one of the most user-friendly public places I've ever been in. First, there were changing stations and bathrooms, making a mother's life infinitely easier. Also, there were many computer work stations for sending work to print. And when I registered for my family library card, I was greeted in the most sincerest of ways. To be expected, I retained my New York City, standoffish mentality only to find that it was simply unnecessary. When the clerk looked at my maiden and married names, together with the New York City driver's license, he looked as if he couldn't make something out.

"What's your married name?" he asked.

"Sasson." I said.

"But I'll have to use the name on the NYC license." he said.

I was not happy about that.

Once, twice, three times I had to remind myself that even in nice friendly places, this was the way it's done and even if he had to use my former name, there were parts of my identity I didn't want on paper, lesser to be using a New York City driver's license.

But he was a nice man and he elected to changed my name to Sasson. At that point, I wanted to cross out all the red lines out of my life, beginning with the teachers who harbored using red pencils leaving me to figure out what mark meant what. For the remainder of the afternoon, I was able to work uninterrupted surrounded by History books excited by what I was writing knowing I was creating my own piece of history.

When I finally let myself take a bathroom break, I was so happy that the red in me wanted to burst out through. And when I finally let myself pass the early childhood and juvenile sections, I saw how inviting, friendly everything was. You don't such clean starts in life so often. I made a point to finish my line of business, get the chapter synopsis in order and get my hands on some of those books.

Each day is about carving a writing life and reaching my goals, which I feel was meant to be and I know that for the time being, I'm in a better place.

Our First Shabbat Weekend

2007-09-02T05:09:00.000-07:00

We're still sitting in a relatively bare apartment waiting for our overseas shipment to arrive.Started the crisp Sunday morning explaining to Ivry that today is Sunday and tomorrow is Labor Day and he doesn't go to the gan these two days. He ran to hug me once I had already settled comfortably with the laptop.

The apartment these days looks like we're going to fly again - probably back to Israel, at least that's what I was thinking when we left New York City. And of course September 2nd is here and I am nowhere near a teacher's bag and a classroom full of thirty eight students and exasperated looking teachers and probably students.

I'm on the other side of the world far far away with a cup of coffee, a small notebook for sketching ideas and writing goals and folders full of what I want to write for my book that maybe McGraw Hill will be interested in publishing - that is, if I can ever finish the chapter synopsis.

I have to educate myself constantly while going over broken sidewalks, waiting for traffic lights to change, watching people bag our groceries, deciding from the rows of cream cheese which one to buy, unsure what is the difference between diet and lowfat, or adding up the expenses of our purchases to realize there are only deductions.

The pieces of the puzzle somehow all start to make sense as I get used to the brick walls outside, the huge walk-in closet that contains our stuff, the pink walls of the bathroom that reminds me of my grandmother's apartment in Far-Rockaway in the 80's, storytime in Shenley park that is a both a semblance of community and culture. Then there are the Hassidic couples that remind me of the Jewish holdiays we spent in Queens, the three hairstyling shops on Murray Avenue, or the woman on the first floor who quickly opened her door when Ivry cried because the door closed abruptly on his poor little hand.

I have to educate myself emotionally when I see the trans-Atlantic move isn't all that bad despite the fact that I received a 'C' for transitions. The kind Rabbi Wasserman of Sha'aeri Torah congregation received many emails from kind souls offering to give us furniture. We're nowhere near to flying anywhere soon.

And then there's the issue of faith: some days I wake up with it and sometimes I don't. On the days when I do, I admire the Victorian windows and paisley window blinds and on the days I don't, I sweep by the flowers. I keep telling myself: Haim will find a job, I'll finish my book come the end of this year, we'll be settled, we'll be happy.

But the sky's too blue to think too much for a Sunday morning.

I Shouldn't Have Grown Up

2007-09-01T16:34:00.000-07:00

Ivry and Haim took off for an evening stroll most likely to the synagogue while I sit next to the yellow flowers, which a kind neighbor passed on after hearing we were just one day in Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh. It is the only real bright thing in this terribly empty apartment.

Exactly this time last year, I was contemplating new ideas for starting the school year not realizing I would end up taking a sabbatical that would bring me in touch with my roots and my writing. Now, we're taking it one step at a time and however right it is to be a mommy these days, and switch over to writing shoes, I've put the teaching bag aside and quietly, I am delving into the writing world.

With fortitude, a bit of fear, and some longing, I still write my way through. It's one thing to be saying I want to write, it's another thing to come all the way over here to write. (well, that's not the only reason) I take a break - speak to the nice people we're slowly becoming acquainted with, lunch with the local Rabbi and his family. I exit my shell temporarily, enjoy the unspoiled blue sky, hear the road construction across the street, sometimes pretend that I'm back in Israel in our small niche that now has taken the likeness of global territory.

It's an intimate process and yet, it's something the mind doesn't want to speak of.

I shouldn't have grown up too quickly to believe it might come true one day, but I'll slice each day as it comes, minute by minute - slowly believing this was meant to be.

Finding a Home ... and Finding Faith

2007-08-22T14:03:00.001-07:00

Today I spent walking around Squirrel Hill where supposedly our new life will be for this upcoming year. Yesterday, I visited the Jewish Community Center, where Ivry will be registered in the early childhood program. Today I visited four apartments -two which were on my unfavorable list. One with a lot of pre-world war two charm (not price), the other - a bit steep but fits the locality like the other.

All this is very good considering for the time being that we are still in Westbeth, NYC. We don't pay rent, or food. We are in a comfort zone. There is no decision yet to be made. But yikes! Here we come. We are slowly getting out of a comfort zone, beginning anew. Again. The thought of it is rather scary.

We like and miss our niches, our quiet, our lifestyles on the kibbutz back home.

Luckily, Squirrel Hill is full of good people, which is one of the reasons why we chose it. A nice rabbi hooked me up with a host family for two nights, who are originally from Mexico and they speak Hebrew!

I spent the first hour crying in front of Ivry's new teacher, in front of the early childhood director, in front of this host family and today again in front of the career development lady. But with her, the tears were smaller.

Today, I spent a good part of the humid day walking around knowing the streets. I know where Barlett street is in relation to Murray street and a few others. That's an accomplishment. I was also able to visit the Jewish Family Services , which helps new immigrants like Haim and me as well, and gives him a push to find a job while helps market him to find a job.

I'm still scared, but not half so much as yesterday. As Elan my brother would say in Hebrew: "Katan Elayich, it's not such a big deal!" For for me, it IS a big deal. But that does not change anything. I'm still scared.

I especially have to shovel out all my fear and muster up faith to know we can succeed and begin again... this time on the other side of the ocean.

And then there is the moment of here and now that says, "yes, I can do it, no problem."

A Collection of Memories

2007-08-19T06:59:00.001-07:00

Ever since we’ve arrived in the States (almost a month now) I still haven’t had a proper chance to feel like I’m my mother’s daughter again.Going in and out through parks, seeing oceans, walking past pastures and vineyards are all so much a part of the Southern California experience, but coming home is always so much more meaningful. Trying to build a connection with a lost friend can be memorable. Trying however to relive a maternal connection especially when it’s been affected by Alzheimer’s type dementia is painful and difficult.

In case you didn’t yet make the connection, my mother has Alzheimer’s type dementia. She’s had it since 1997. But I wouldn’t stop ever calling her mom.

I take after my mother; I’m a worrier. As a kid I would prowl the halls waiting for her. If she said “I’ll be home at 10:00 pm" and she wasn’t, I’d go out waiting for her. Tonight, I pushed the panic button when I looked at the dark sky and wondered where are my two boys. I hunted them down alongside the piers right outside my mother's home alongside the Hudson River. I immediately thought of that little girl and I wanted to find a connection. With Alzheimer’s however, there’s always an issue of hit or miss.

I knew my mom would identify with ‘worry scenes’ such as these. It actually made perfect sense to use it as a starting board for conversation.

I’m almost sure it was my voice that did it. Instantly, her face turned towards me. Her jaw dropped slightly, she tried to make eye contact. Her expression softened. She was my mom again just for a few bitter-sweet moments.

I went on to recount to her the story of the last forty minutes of hunting my boys down.There was nothing more comforting than hearing, “yes, that’s too much” or, “ yes, I know what you mean.” Perfect.

Anybody who has an Alzheimer’s type dementia parent, knows the feeling of closeness this scenario can bring to a grieving daughter or son’s heart.

These few years are the collective years of her and my life together. They make the last scrapbook of what stands out as a maternal connection. From one mom to another, this is the best collection that survives all scratch-and-sniff sticker albums I’ve ever had.

After a bit of thought, I decided to send this post to Michele's blog for the Write-Away content. This month's theme is about collections.

Always A New Yorker

2007-08-17T21:09:00.000-07:00

As I walked the hallways of Westbeth today, I felt like a New Yorker again. Westbeth isn't exactly like the rest of New York with its cosmetic surgery type buildings. I've waited a long time to hold my son, past the hallways where I used to roam only this time with Claire Bassett, a long time friend and neighbor. The hallways as usual were desolate and poorly lit. With ivry pointing at the colored doors and saying the colors in both Hebrew and English, I was sure the mind was falling; it was too surreal.

Yep, I felt like a twelve year old New Yorker all over again. Well, maybe fifteen or so.

I know that Claire felt that way again. She said, "Dorit, I can't believe you're a mom. I look at you and I see a fifteen year old."

In a way, she is definitely right. The seventeen years of living in Israel are as rural as they come and it's not my birthplace. My mom and dad of America is New York. And I'm starting all over again. but this time, I left my suitcase of ideologies somewhere else and the fifteen year old NYC girl has her night out instead of cleaning poopy diapers and reading bedtime stories to Ivry.

This year I am not committed to any lifestyle or identity. But I and Claire have grown to appreciate the dimensions of the walls and apartment sizes, windows, directions of apartments, people we both knew growing up and people whom we stayed away from, all in the heart of Greenwich Village. This is where it all began. Pulling each other on skateboards, playing catch and disturbing the neighbors, me a bespectacled teenager, and Claire, a intuitive forever questioning teenager. We mold our likeness as we learn all the nuances that made us 'tick' as kids. I believe that is part of becoming full circle.

Bargain Time in San Diego

2007-08-12T08:50:00.000-07:00

Carousel Time in SeaVillage

Ivry's cousin Samatha

Yea, I'm with my Uncle Elan! Yea, I'm a Doctor now!

Waiting for the Amtrack to take us

Well, we finally made it to our final California destination before we board for New York City.

Uncle Elan can relax from a few day's work enjoying his nephew. It's been two years since we all met and it's especially poignant when we're all together eating a Shabbat meal on Elan's dining room table in his lovely San Diego apartment with his roommate and girlfriend. All the pieces are coming together. We're learning the pieces of his life as he learns about ours and the brother-sister becomes timeless once again. Over Haim's wonderfully savory meatballs, we feel the love and find a connection.

Saturday's morning walk proved to be our lucky day. Haim came back after a brief walk with Ivry and said, "there's a sale outside.'' We could hardly believe our eyes: old printers, furniture, books, toys, brick-a-brack items. We came back with a small carton of card games for Ivry (good choices for killing airport time), a few three-quarter sleeve shirts for Haim that looked brand new, a brand new sippy cup for Ivry, a Fisher Price animal crackers game, a picture frame and guess what for moi? Books, of course! I quickly found two delectable novels and two resource books. I was so happy. I had finished Nadine's Gordimer's Get a Life in the first few days of our trip, and desperately needed more pleasant reading material.

We unexpectedly did not realize it was fifteen minutes to closing time and the chorus of "Everything for Free. Take whatever you want!" had begun. It's amazing how people suddenly turn into wild octopuses. People were grabbing anything they could get their hands on and loading them on cars. It was really funny. the church goers organizing the yard sale, were so nice and affable. Really sweet folks.

While I of course couldn't help but wonder how we would manage fitting all this in one suitcase, Haim nonchalantly handed the box to Elan. It was a brilliant morning.

Later that night when we finally made it [out of the house after a refreshing and much needed Saturday afternoon nap] from San Diego's downtown SeaVillage, I realized that we received our small gifts not by chance. We have worked hard to get to this point getting Haim's papers and my sabbatical organized and 'kosher' as well as our house ready for renting, shipping our stuff, selling our car and many other things. It's a huge move.

We have given more than half our belongings away to the Philippine workers on the kibbutz and other neighbors. And now at the give-away, it's amazing the love one can feel from a complete stranger when you relinquish your belongings and step out of your shell. It's the beginning to harboring change.

I'm beginning to feel less frightful of this process of change. Now we're living it. You just gotta love it.

Plans for Today are:

1. Bilboa Park including performances and activities for Ivry. More pictures to come. Happy Sunday!

Viva La Fiesta!

2007-08-06T18:59:00.000-07:00

This California dreamin' is just one big fiesta. Ivry and his parents of course, indulged watching Spanish costumes and beautifully decorated horses. We love Aunt Judy's company.

The butterfly exhibition was a blast. We topped it off today with a landshark cruise around Santa Barbara which took us on sea and back on land. Santa Barbara has such beautiful charm. We're so glad we came.

Memories from NYC to Santa Barbara

2007-07-31T16:36:00.001-07:00

Revisiting old friends and catching up with my old beloved high school friend Rachel and her sweet son Joshua, my old childhood friend Claire Bassett from Westbeth and seeing my aunt Judy's beautiful home in Santa Barbara is quite an emotional journey.Many miles we have traveled to get to this point. The experience of flying allows me to concretize these and many more experiences into words. I'm relying on them now to carry me/us through.

The pictures speak for themselves. I can hardly speak enough.

It's as if I never left the States at all, but yet in fact I did and returned a mom.

Home is Where the Heart Is

2007-07-29T04:42:00.000-07:00

I'm slowly learning that home can be everywhere.

It's hard though to try and feel home in a place you grew up in for so long to find that corporate real etate and celebrity lifestyle is now big business especially in my hometown of Greenwich Village.

Haim, Ivry and I took the new promenade from what used to be Pier 40 alongside the Hudson River to the new World Financial Area. We talked to a few people including a babynurse from Trinidad, and we were amazed at what we found: It's true, downtown Manhattan is really only for the very rich.

It didn't stop us though from admiring the water lilies, the Rockerfeller park, which has a play safe station with lots of kids jungle gyms, fountains galore. Ivry found his niche next to an easle; he loved drawing and erasing. Whoever designed this park, thought of practically every single detail. I don't understand why parks for instance in Northern Israel can't be designed on this user friendly level.

On this gracious note, we have yet to find the heart of our home. We have chosen Pittsburgh for its serene park setting and affordable location. But we don't know much more than that. Our lives right now are in a state of flux and transition. There are many things yet for us to do: find an apartment, get Ivry settled in a gan, connect with the JCC, find a job for Haim, etc.

My mind wants to speedily get it over and done with, my heart wants to connect to a place. Luckily we can stay in Greenwich Village with my mom, but nothing has stayed the same, only the old familiarity of her apartment.

We turn a corner where a small weeping willow tree stands and in front of me is the Statue of Liberty and I remind myself of why we came: for freedom of opportunity. And that is our blessing.

It's a Dream Come True!

2007-07-25T17:36:00.000-07:00

Back when I first started with the notion of writing a blog, I came up with Writertable for my writing blog remembering the wooden table with the four lion paws. My dream back in October was to write on a laptop in Greenwich Village on that table. Well, here I am with my brand new Toshiba laptop while my two male cuties (Hubby and Ivry) are somewhere walking along the Hudson River Park.

New York city at night. The sounds of construction of the new condo across the street in the day and the somewhat peace and quite watching the Hudson River from my bedroom window facing the New Jersey shore. Wow.

I'm so elated! This laptop is amazing and it has everything a writer at heart needs. I love the solid compatability and the easy accessiblity. This wireless Internet is just great. What was even hysterical was after purchasing the laptop, I felt I needed to go to the old library in Greenwich Village where I would do homework, research projects and read as a child, but this time I wanted to connect to the whole world from there!

I'm making history as the second one in my family to sit and do wireless Internet surfing. Since I grew up in a family of artists in a building known as Westbeth, this is the first connection to figuring out whether I belong in this niche of artists or not. Well, I have a whole year to decide that since I'm on sabbatical!

I hope you all are enjoying your summer wherever you are!

We Just Sold Our Car

2007-07-18T02:24:00.000-07:00

Our terribly reliable ten year old car... that was a serious piece of history - starting out with me driving up the trecherous hills to Haifa University on and off for six years to finish my Masters, the transition from bauchelorette to married life, Haim riding alongside for some years to come, all the adventures in-between, bringing Ivry from the hospital for the first time, and yesterday we dusted Ivry's chair off from the bread crumbs in preparation to for the flight. And after all, he didn't want to get out.

We walked home Haim and I, in that bloody hot Israeli weather down the long Kiriyat Shmona road to the kibbutz. It took nearly an hour (we are so not used to that) Haim leading the way as he knows how to do, with my tired steps following knowing though we are together on this journey.

I'll miss the fact that fresh fruits and veggies are so readily available - so much so that we stopped in our tracks and picked from the long cultivated fields, ripe tomatoes and figs from the freshly watered trees. I'll miss that accessibility. There is nothing that comes close to it.

Goodbye Home Away from Home

2007-07-16T02:45:00.000-07:00

In exactly one week, we'll be en route to New York City. It's hard to imagine that a trip that took nearly six months to get organized is finally coming to its fruition. Our personal belongings are on a ship somewhere, the goodbye party for our son is on Wednesday, the renter are moving into our home next week - all signs of a domestic tranquil life on a kibbutz coming to a close.

The life we have lived as a small brood and even before will be missed and I'm not just talking about conveniences (that goes without saying) but the feeling of a connection to the place. Haim doesn't see the move like me ; I grew up in New York City, experienced nature in all its glory when I attended Tranquility Camp and even then, was I ever so sad to enter a congested Grand Central Station. I enjoy sipping hot peppermint tea on my kibbutz style veranda waiting for the day to get cooler, so I can put dear Ivry to bed and wait to hear the croaks of the frogs. Haim will read "The Story of Grandpa Aharon" for a few more times and I continue to sip my tea with that obnoxious noise that only I can hear.

I love my dear home away from home. But it is time to move on; we need to continue to grow and develop. We have made our choice and we are at peace with it.

One year can bring many experiences and journeys. We don't know what will bring after that; all we know is that we are on a journey on a lifetime and we are glad to be able to do it NOW.

I never thought I would be able to experience life in such a beautiful setting and I am fortunate to have spent almost six years living like this - so unprecedented and tranquil.

Yesterday was my last Yemima session. Avital, my spiritual teacher said that home is the level to bring it to your rising consciousness and thought level. If I let myself become tricked into believing that I will need a house, a steady job, a beautiful kitchen, I will forgo the possibility of enjoying a sunset and the moment of enjoyment with my small brood.

So I continue to sip the tea with gusto right up to the day we fly out.

ps. sorry guys, no pics since I am working from a friend's computer. Will continue to update you all from the States. Have a great summer!

2007-07-10T00:47:00.000-07:00

The Two Week Adventure

This post has been submitted to the Write-Away Contest at Michele Mitchell's blog. This month's theme is Adventures.

For somebody who was brought up to wear a sweater in fifty degree heat and was handed an article on lung cancer at the age of thirteen , I never thought that I would find myself in the middle of the Arava desert in Israel at the age of eighteen full clad in a soldier's uniform trying to shoot the bull's eye.

My mom would never know up until this day, that the Greenwich Village spoiled city girl was on the adventure of a lifetime while learning Hebrew, running around picking smelly tomatoes from an abandoned airfield, raising and carrying Russian girls who knew no English on a stretcher while running with two M-16's on her back on a nineteen kilometer race so as to qualify for an officer's course. Every picture I sent back home seemed to reverberate the last smile: "yes, I'm having a good time and yes, don't worry."

She thought I was on one of those, you know, experience tours for young teens who want to experience Israel in two weeks. Well at least, that's what I told her. In 1990.

Truthfully, I thought I would do like most Americans my age. I would do my little 'charity work' serving in the Israeli army and come back home. After all mom had said, an education is your future. Well, it would take me many hikes through the Golan heights and alongside the Dea Sea to find my Israeli identity. And yes, I'm still looking for it.

I have said "pay attention" in Hebrew to many soldiers more times than I choose to remember. I have been in Gaza Strip more times than I care to tell about it. I have witnessed quite a few deaths and injuries than I care to write. But my two year old redhead thinks it is fun to answer me in English when I say 'pay attention' as he throws pebbles in the Jordan River.

Many runs and hikes later, my hands have written a good many letters about that my experiences as a soldier both from both left (English) and right (Hebrew). The words of what became a 'two week adventure' bypass what language and side you are from from.

But of course, it depends on which way you choose to live your life.

The Three of Us

2007-06-15T11:26:00.000-07:00

These pictures I took from the nature trail beyond the gate of our kibbutz. We had a great time throwing stones in the Jordan River.It was hard convincing not to throw huge stones, but he stubbornly took part in the competition.

We got back just in time to eat a delicious Shabbat meal Haim prepared. Of course after I finish posting this blog, I am going to collapse in a heap. It's been an exhausting day, actually an exhausting week and there is still much to be done before we board that plane to New York City.

It was nice though to sit and be together. I'm glad we have this heavenly place near in proximity in which to do this. It certainly got us into the Shabbat mood. I wish I had 'discovered' this trail earlier.

S0, what helps you get into a weekend frame of mind?

Have a great weekend!

Of Friday Mornings and Afternoons

2007-06-08T06:35:00.000-07:00

I decided to sit outside on the porch this morning and work up an appetite for some spirituality exercises (my Yemima homework). It really levels me and puts 'me' time into a busy teaching end of the year schedule. With the trees still dripping from the unexpected shower storms, I found myself caught in a series of moments, of morning choruses of birds, frogs and crickets.

I love nature.

My son is a nature boy too. When he is isn't asking me 'ma zeh' from his favorite picture book, he lives the life of nature and the world of stories. Why just yesterday, he walked up the hill to the pool and just like that, he recited a line from his favorite book that starts "v'lima'lah.. [and up]"

My son is just as excited as stories as I am about nature. Friday afternoons after a nap, and he's back reading his favorite picture book as if he never left it.

Having Free Time

2007-05-26T12:18:00.000-07:00

I love lazy Friday afternoons and it's not often I get a chance to sneak peek at my growing list of summer reading. During Shavuot weekend, I jump kicked my reading starting with The Riders by Tim Winton. (I really like the English brawl and Australian dialect. A great mystery thriller) Okay, okay I confess, I never got around to reading it during the middle of the school year; Every slight interruption was a reason not to continue.

With a few more weeks until summer vacation kicks in this part of the world, I'm actually having a breather with lighter lessons leaving me time to think ahead, and to hold Ivry just a little bit more before rushing to the computer.

It's nice to hear the rush of the trees outside, reading Arnold Lobel's Frog and Toad series again and again while managing a yawn.

These are all signs of free time.

Ivry had a sugar high earlier this evening at the reception for a married couple on the kibbutz, but he's finally fallen asleep. Here a few pictures of the little boy in the last couple of days.

So, how do you spend your free time? Does it take you a long time to get adjusted to the fact that you have free time?

A Second Piece

2007-04-28T09:49:00.000-07:00

We travelled today to Nahal Kelach near Haifa University. It is a luscious forest with lots of green around. It was the annual memorial walk for Haim's cousin's husband Moshe Manteka, who died of cancer nine years ago. He was a special man who worked in the police force and treasured photography. His pictures are just gorgeous. This year's theme was in honor of just that - finding the three photos that highlighted the trip.

So every year, families get together while the little ones play with their friends, cousins, and get to know others at the same time. I suddenly feel in a small bubble by people who knew and loved Moshe and through him, we are loved as well. It is a nice feeling.

Israel is so beautiful at this time of year. Aside from the little bugs flying in the air, the air was cool and perfect for walking. With Ivry in his little Snuggli, we were ready to go until Haim decided that the steep declines might result in something hitting Ivry in the face. So we made our own trip walking around and saw the tower of Haifa University, from a distance - the place where I earned my MA in English Literature exactly four years ago.

This year there was an artist's workshop featuring handmade natural materials such as pinecones and dried pears. We strung beads to make mobiles and necklaces and key rings.

And finally, some beautiful pictures.

Somebody was enjoying the chocolate from the handmade pitas. (picture 4)

Two gingies. (picture 3) I love this one.

Ivry on Independence Day jumpies. Let's jump for Freedom! (picture 2)

Ivry and Klil from the gan on Daddy's lap (picture 1).

I count my blessings for each and every picture and to be able to enjoy it with my small brood.

The First Piece of Me

2007-04-23T12:02:00.000-07:00

I'm excited about this second blog. I was getting a bit tired just writing about my writing endeavors when I know there is so much more that my first blog doesn't reveal. Not that it bothers me. It's just different.

Before the fireworks began last night, all of Israel stood in solidarity for Yom Hazikaron - Remembrance Day for the Fallen Soldiers. Our small kibbutz community stood in white shirts, listening to the sirens, and praying for the dead and the very recent from the Second Lebanon War.

We hope that tragedy will never repeat itself.

And in a very short twenty four hours, we start eating cake, singing songs from the Palmach period and run around after our two and four years old, trying to smile and enjoy each other's company. We all feel something, we all acknowledge the pain. We all are part of the flame of the living.

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I like to explore trodden and unfamiliar places on the kibbutz. It seems I've been everywhere. It is quite a homey place to live. I do this exploration on Saturday when Haim goes off to guard at the kibbutz gate. It's usually very quiet but last week Ivry came across an artist painting. It was a beautiful moment. (picture to the right)

Then it was time to explore the library from a side that nobody goes past - the windows. For some odd reason, I love kibbutz windows - they are so old and rickety, dirty too. But they reflect the older periodspeople seem to have forgotten, and since there are so many new faces, new houses, new everything, I look for something utterly familiar and close to hold unto - the dust of the screen window, with the old kettle and sixties radio from the outside. Ivry didn't know all this but he will - one day when and if he reads this blog.