Movies, a clean house and good weather

The last film which I took from Blockbuster back to the Elisha Towers was called "Love Actually". It should have been called "Disaster Actually". Once more I betrayed, although not intentionally, the trust of friends and neighbors and picked an objectionable movie for our Tuesday evening entertainment. At the Blockbuster studio, the young man had recommended the film saying:

"It's a romantic comedy, good-looking people, some misunderstandings, a happy end, what else could you want?"

Yes, really what else could I want? But as soon as the film started to roll I realized that this will go from bad to very bad! It was one huge and regrettable catastrophe. The action was not clear, too involved, events which were supposed to be connected were not connected at all, at least not to my simple mind. After the first few minutes people started to get up and leave, especially when a certain love scene was more than we bargained for. The lady next to me covered her eyes and whispered to me furiously:

All about temperature

There is too much cooking on TV, I believe. I switch on the TV any time in the afternoon or evening and I always find someone there who is performing miracles in the kitchen. There must be many people who enjoy watching these culinary wonders, otherwise we wouldn't get so much of it! I personally could do with a bit less of kitchen activity I am sure! I look at the people who work there, they have so many helpful gadgets, three kinds of mixers, food processors, knives, pots and pans, not to mention a big comfortable kitchen! Then I glance at my own tiny kitchen corner and I think to myself if I would have all that electrical and mechanical help maybe my own production would also be so much more successful than the occasional dish I produce as per TV instructions which at the end turns out something else altogether! But maybe I am fooling myself!

Sleeping pills and can openers

One of my two drama queens was on the line:

...."and to make it all worse, my cleaning lady has left me! She left because she is getting married! Can you imagine? Not a word of warning! I didn't even know she was seeing someone! We used to be so friendly, she should have told me! Now I need someone to show me how to work the washing machine! My sister-in-law is in the hospital but thank God we are not on speaking terms so I don't have to visit her! Sam is still in China, he doesn't phone and his cell doesn't react. I am telling you, everything bad is happening to me this week, I can't find my  silver necklace and..."

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Wallowing in nostalgia

I sat with my friend Erica when she took out some pink wool and started to crochet. I have endless admiration for people who can do that, never having learned or tried it myself.

"What will this be?" I asked her.

"A dress for the little princess", she informed me, "I don't care what my grandsons are wearing but my grand daughter will always be dressed like a princess!"

The princess is exactly 3 days old.

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Story-telling

Ms. George is a well-known author. Her novels are rarely shorter than 700 pages and I often lose my patience with her endless descriptions, digressions, speculations, exaggerations, insinuations and metaphors... So reading that novel which I took from the library, suddenly my late husband comes to my mind. I used to tell him stories. Sometimes about what happened in the office, whom I've met on my way home and what we talked about, what was available in the shops, or what we should plan for the week-end. Just when I got into the real swing of my tale, he used to interrupt me:

"Now get to the point, get to the point, I'm in a hurry, I have to...". Well, whatever he had to! So... now quoting my husband: "Ms. George, won't you ever get to the point?"

Saturday? Holiday? Regular day?

The holiday season is very confusing, mostly to the ones who are already slightly confused anyway. All right, not necessarily confused, but it's enough when one has no longer the obligation to go out to work, clean house, cook, escort kids to one place or the other, or do something creative like finish an unfinished painting or work on that great novel which will bring fame and fortune.

As it is, I open my eyes in the morning, still drowsy, trying to figure out whether it's a Saturday, a holiday or just a plain every-day day.. Wait a moment, it was a holiday yesterday, so what's today? My black silk pants are carelessly thrown on top of my keyboard, so I must have worn them yesterday. Which excludes regular day, for yesterday and still leaves Saturday or holiday. So hopefully shops and other places  will be open today, and I can get dressed and finally go out and buy a pair of slippers which I've been needing badly for the last week or two. My old slippers were already in shreds, and they were the first thing I shoved under my bed when company came. 

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Israeli girls are prettier

Twice a year we must cope with that disconcerting matter regarding our clocks. A few days earlier we are urged by newspaper, TV and radio that it's time to move our clocks to wintertime. And as if this would not be enough, friends all around remind us again and again: "don't forget the clock tonight!"

Strange thing is that we are supposed to do all this exactly at 1 o'clock in the morning, not sooner, not later. Now why should I, who, I hope will be blissfully asleep at one o'clock a.m. get up and start adjusting my wristwatch, my VCR clock, my kitchen clock, my alarm clock, thank God there's no need to do anything to my computer, a friend tells me, because a computer computes and does this by itself - all  of them to be moved one hour back? And what would happen if I'd do all that at 10 o'clock in the evening before going to sleep? And how is it, that although I've moved all the clocks back, I seem to be one hour ahead when I get up in the morning?

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Raising a cup

I always wondered at the Hebrew expression "raising a cup". What it actually means is having a drink of wine, or any other alcohol, in celebration of a special event in the company of others.

In the last week or so I've been "raising a cup" more often than I really like. And coming back to the "raising", I wonder if there is a law on how high the cup should be raised? Probably not, I suppose one raises it in accordance with one's physical capabilities, main thing is that it should be raised at all! And is there any law with regards to the contents of the cup? Can one, say, raise a cup with orange juice? If you ask me, I'd like that better than a cup holding inferior wine, although to be quite frank I would not know the difference between one quality of wine and the other!

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Time for a time-out?

I am sitting here in my wonderfully comfortable armchair and have no particular reason to get up. I am surrounded by books, magazines, a TV, a VCR, my computer and a box of sinfully good chocolates.

Nevertheless I am bothered by the recurring worry that I cannot think of a subject to write about this week. So maybe I am due for a bit of "time out".

I diligently read many of other people's blogs and wonder if they ever read mine. I can't help but feel that I am tied down by trivialities, banalities, even frivolities. In a time when the whole world is in an uproar about  politics, financial disasters, ecology, terrorism and questionable leadership, I write about self-centered ladies, the way they dress, and the way they fight onsetting memory loss.

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New Year presents and seasonal change

I have to go out shopping for gifts. Twice a year I buy small presents for close friends and I have, in front of me, a list of names. Next to each name are some observations which originated thanks to experience gained over the years.

Here I see the name of  Daniela and right next to it I have noted down many holidays ago:

"No chocolates, she has diabetes. Nothing which bears the color mauve. Mauve causes her to feel depressed!"

And then there is Esther. In my neat handwriting I have noted down next to her name:

"Don't buy her earrings again! You keep forgetting that she has no holes in her ears, and if she wears clips, she loses them!"