Chasing wild pigs is not a good idea...

Even in the land of kosher food, pork products are available in special stores. The wild cousin of the domestic pig is also roaming the lands, something Barak got painfully aware of the other morning when he was our running with Yoram and the rest of the running group. Barak has a strong prey drive and sometimes follows scents out in the vegetation and this morning Yoram heard more noise than Barak possibly could create himself. Suddenly a whole family of wild boar comes out from the grove and stand some 20-30 m ahead of Yoram. He thought that his last moment had arrived, but luckily the pigs took off in the other direction. Barak first joined up with the rest of the group and when they all gathered, the other guys told Yoram that Barak was probably stabbed by one of the pigs, and surely he had a wound on his thigh.

When Yoram came home with Barak I shaved the area around the wound opening, which was approximately a 3 cm cut and we saw that it bled pretty abundantly. I took him to the vet and at this point he also had a large bump on the thigh, which was indicating a hematoma inside his thigh muscle. He was put under anesthesia and our vet started to work on him.

He had to cut a 15 cm opening to be able to remove all the coagulated blood and damaged tissue in his muscle. After that he got stitches both in the muscle tissue and two levels of stitches in the skin, plus a long drainage tube exiting in two directions.



ּBarak was pretty docile the rest of the day, but ate his dinner in the evening. Already the next morning he was behaving just as usual, with no tendencies of pain. He is on antibiotics and he is keeping the drainage clean all by himself. I wonder, though, if he learned a lesson from chasing wild pigs - especially with babies...

Social security

I have lived here for a bit more than two years now, and the road to recognition in the form of visa and insurance have been anything but fast and smooth. My A5 visa, which entitles me to get social insurance was dated to the 9th of June, but things would not start moving automatically from that day. Not only did I need to go to Bituach Leumi, the most infamous of the Israeli bureaucracy entities, but I also found out that the possibility to get Kopat Holim (universal health insurance) would take another half year. Misrad Hapnim (Interior Ministry) have evaluated that I am allowed to reside in the country, but now it is time for Bituach Leumi to decide whether I am worthy of all the economical benefits. Certainly I am coming here for the 14 weeks of maternity leave, when in Sweden I would get 280 working days. Duh?! I simply want permission to pay from my salary to get health insurance, like everybody else.

This news really ticked me off, since I have been counting the days until we are able to start working on an additional human member of the family. Doing that without health insurance would simply be stupid. If things go as planned, I will not burden the system significantly anyway, since I am a natural childbirth advocate and want to give birth at home with a midwife (which is not covered by the health insurance), but just in case something would go wrong, I need a backup.

Today we went to Bituach Leumi in Haifa and arrived 7.45 to precede the worst queues. There were about 30 people waiting outside and they immediately informed us that we were last in line. When they opened everybody gathered and formed the queue that they previously only kept in their minds. We passed security quickly and after some confusion we came to the right person.

All the staff at Bituach Leumi drink bitter juice for breakfast and they all look intimidatingly angry sitting there behind their counters. However, no wonder with such a job! My husband on the other hand, is one of the most socially gifted persons I have ever met, and he goes up smiling and joking, turning the lady into soft jelly in his hands, including putting a big smile on her lips.

We got two good news. Pointer Software, where I work, has unwittingly paid social insurance from each of my paychecks, already during my simple working permit, and those money we will get refunded. Second, yes, it takes another six months to get Kopat Holim, but I am practically insured from when the A5 was issued and if I need medical care during these six months, I should just save the receipts to get it refunded retroactively.

Restrictions have been lifted and I am hoping that it will take quickly. I am 38 years old now and it is about time to squeeze at least one kid out.

Blueberry + Sabra = True

Srulik

Sometimes Israelis that I know well ask me how I cope with the infamous sabra mentality. It happens after they see me interact with some totally cold and arrogant person who almost seems to evaluate whether I am worthy of his service, or not. Truth is, that although I am a pretty well-grounded person, with a "water on a goose" ability to shake things off, I was sincerely moved by this behavior for quite some time before I started to just ignore it.

However, I don't think that I ever took it personal - I was rather fascinated with how people had become that way, and of course there are many aspects that together forced this tough surface onto the native Israeli Jews. Because it is only the Jews. Never that you go into an Arab establishment and they look at you as if you would have arrived from outer space.

The term sabra was coined by the early Zionist movement, mostly in the kibbutzim and moshavim, where the new generations of Jews grew up, born in Israel and with Hebrew as their native language. At this time, the kibbutzim were strongly ideological communities, far from any happy-go-lucky hippy collectives. They consisted of hard-working people who went as far in their communal lifestyle as to keeping all children in children's homes, separated from their biological parents. This created a few generations of more or less emotionally detached individuals, and I have heard Israelis explain this as an altruistic sacrifice to get through the difficult times during the build-up of the Israeli nation.

This is certainly not an excuse for later generations, but the Jewish collective memory of the pogroms during Diaspora, as well as the fact that Israel has been under constant existential threats from neighboring Arab nations, from the beginning up until today, can also explain the tough and thorny skin on the Israelis. I would not say that Israel is a destination for the convenient traveller, who wants to meet cheesy (and false) smiles wherever he goes. I even know Jews who made aliyah, but gave up and moved back into Diaspora again, not only because of the sabras, but life in general, which can be quite demanding and frictional. I guess that a challenging life needs to be up ones ally to really thrive here.

The nuances in the behavior differ between a tough guy in a sandwich bar in Ramat Yishay, and a snobby barista in Tel Aviv, but the essence is the same. What furthermore is the same, is the soft and sweet inside. It is always there - you just need a little patience to penetrate, and when you succeed the love story is a fact. With the roughness of the sabra comes also a strong spirit that inspires you in ways that I would not replace for any superficial friendliness in the world. For me, sabra is something genuine and honest, and the blueberry is thriving among them.

Our new home in images

Green garden

Fragrant Citrus flowers

Colorful trees (Judas tree, Cercis siliquastrum)

Home + dojo = Hojo

O'Sensei watering us with knowledge

Review of our move...

My guardian angel, Goshen

More than 10 days without any post and I do feel that I have neglected the writing, but for a good reason. Moving takes time and energy, and on top of that we have both been working full time. Destiny was however working in our favor, and our dear friends, the Jaeger's, had a visit planned since months back. Then all of a sudden it happened that we needed to move over new year, and "chick chack", we were blessed with the greatest support, both practically and spiritually, in the middle of all the mess.

We have moved to another neighborhood in Tivon, obviously a very nice one, if you ask the ones who know. We have a nice garden with great potential, and we are only 100 m from a descent into a wonderful wadi. That is also what I value the most, garden and the closeness to nature. We moved on the 30th of December and when we woke up on new years eve, me and the Jaeger girls went straight out into the garden and started raking leaves, completely procrastinating the kitchen than needed a basic unpacking to be able to handle the little come-together that we had planned to welcome the new year. Yoram came back from some errand and told me in his softest fashion that maybe there were more important things than leaves, right there and then, upon which I hissed at him a bit, but then went in and rolled up my sleeves. As it ought to be, since I would not have wanted him to arrange the kitchen under any circumstances.

The TV is according to my wishes squeezed into the smallest room, and the largest living room we are turning into a permanent hojo = home + dojo! But the hojo part is of course a joint desire! We came over some used, but decent, white tatamis and we have already laid out some of the mats on the floor. We will decorate the room in a dojo kind-of fashion, but the room will also serve as a cozy corner, with lots of pillows and blankets for good moments between aikido practices. On Tuesday evening we made our first aikido moves in the room, a completely spontaneous moment with the kids. We taught them to roll and me and Yoram threw each other in a few strong tenchinage's. When we started we were cold (houses here are freezing in the winter time), but after a few rolls, all of us took off the warmest clothes. Immediately, I had the idea that tatamis in the whole house would heat up the whole house... ;) Then we made dinner. This is the spontaneity that I have been dreaming about for so long, having the aikido as a closely integrated part of your life, enabling you to practice whenever you want, however you want, in addition to the scheduled practices.

The garden was not completely enclosed by a fence when we moved in, and that was one of the things that we needed to fix, since having the dogs in the garden will enable me to work full days without taking them out for a pee. However, some of the parts of the fencing area turned out to be more difficult than others, with heavy vegetation and other stuff, so the security of the fence is growing gradually. Goshen is not the problem, Barak is. Goshen showed already during the first few days, that she would stay in the unfenced garden as we left in the car, while Barak was leashed to a tree in the back yard. Goshen accepted, went back to him and came out and greeted us as we returned. Barak, on the other hand, turned out to be more difficult to contain, as we expected. He is after all a male, with intact balls (although they right now hang on a very loose thread), and he has the "vagabond gene". He wants to roam the neighborhood, and hadn't it been for his notorious prey drive on cats, then I would not mind if he took his tours ones in a while. He is of no danger for humans or dogs, but the cats should watch out. In the garden, his focus is on finding the weak spots in the fence, and we keep closing them. I think that this weekend we will close the last one, by cutting down a big bush and extending the grid fence in its place.

So, we are busy settling, exploring, decorating and placing our scent on the place. On February 2 I leave to Sweden for four weeks, and when I get back, the spring is here. I cannot wait to really dig my fingers down in the garden...

Saffron buns, my style

My saffron buns

Since margarine (plastic!) is not crossing the threshold of my house there are some things that are not possible without access to real butter. The butter crisis in Israel is over, luckily, which enables baking again. To get a little Christmas feeling I baked saffron buns from whole wheat flour. I have gotten used to always choosing whole grain products of all staple foods, and I think that it works well for sweet pastries as well. It is just a matter of habit. I used Israeli white cheese (gevina levana) instead of kesella and pomegranate seeds instead of raisins, and loads of saffron!

At first, the dough did not leaven as expected since the cheese chilled the dough too much, but after putting the bowl on top of the toaster oven, things started moving. The somewhat experimenting recipe turned out very well for a first time and even the picky kids liked them. During the whole afternoon I terrorized the Jews in the house with my Christmas playlist. Christmas eve is next Friday and we are free from the kids. I am thinking about taking the opportunity to make some kind of Christmas dinner for me and Yoram. Last year the Christmas passed totally unnoticed. That will not do when I get kids of my own, so I better start building our intercultural family tradition.

House with a garden!

We are moving, already on the 1st of January! Now when I have a reasonably consistent income we can finally afford to leave this dump flat, with its moron neighbours. We did not look for long before we found a cute house with a nice garden, although it took some negotiations before we settled around the agreements. First offer was an unreasonable increase of the rent already on the second year, as well as us having to do all the painting ourselves, but after my brilliant husband cast his spells, we ended up on no rent increase and the landlords will do all the painting. We will just choose the colours and move in to a renovated house.

It is an old house, where the kitchen, toilet and bathroom are not too modern, but that's just the way I like it. I am allergic to new houses with a modern and clinical style. Houses like that have no soul and it is very difficult for me to feel comfortable in such a house. Right now I am planning the colours for the different rooms and it will be ranging from deep fuchsia to lime green, ochre, colonial blue and black. The kitchen and the bathroom will be quite creatively decorated.

There are four rooms and a pretty large hall. Except for the master bedroom, the boys' room and a combined TV room/office, we have decided to make the large living room into a permanent dojo. However, in between practices, it will also serve as a cozy living room, by just spreading out soft mattresses, pillows and blankets on top of the tatamis. Finally, my dream comes true to be able to practice aikido whenever I want, totally spontaneously.

Now there is no nursery included in this plan and after all we are planning to get pregnant during next year, but on the other hand we will not stay in this house forever. During the infant period it is definitely sufficient, and as far as I am concerned, the TV can give room for a nursery. ;)

I have a job!

For months and months I had nothing to do. Then everything came at once. We started to plan for the tattoo studio. They wanted me as a Swedish teacher online. One guy asked if I could sell horse-back vacations on the telephone. I am not a sales person and the teaching job was too much effort for very little money. What finally made me trash both of the latter opportunities was that all of a sudden the perfect job landed in front of my nose.

My new boss is a friend of Yoram, from his running group. He has a software company that develops applications for many different purposes and clients, but also applications for iPhone and iPad. He needed a designer and there I was. I have now spent my first two days as an employee developing interface graphics for his iPhone and iPad applications. I am making lots of cool stuff and I can go completely crazy in Illustrator, which I love so much. I work full time, but get paid by the hour, which I kind of like, since it gives me a better overview of how I earn my money.

Here comes the best part. My office is in Ramat Yishay, merely 5 minutes from here with a car. Besides that, I have the freedom to work from home when I need to, which is completely amazing. This means that I can go to the office in the morning, handling all the meetings and discussions with my colleagues, and then go home to the dogs (and the kids some days) and keep on working at home in the afternoon and evening. It is a bit sad that I cannot ride horses almost every day anymore, but with my flexible hours I am sure that I will be able to squeeze in a few rides here and there. And the tattoo studio, well, that will definitely happen, but it will be someone else that helps Assi by answering the phone when someone calls.

Skin City opens on the 1st of January

We are going to open a tattoo and piercing studio together with our good friend (and fellow aikidoka) Assi Goldstein, who is a brilliant tattoo artist (for you who have Facebook, look here for some of his work). He lost his job in Haifa and we decided to invest in a studio together with him. The place is in Yokneam, close to Kiryat Tivon, and we plan to open on the 1st of January, under the name of Skin City. We will renovate together, and then I will spend a lot of time there in the beginning, as a somewhat assistant to Assi.

On Tuesday, we spent the hole day wrestling with Israeli bureaucracy. We were not sure how to register the company, to make it as smooth and economical as possible, Assi alone, or with me also on the paper. Yoram was already excluded since he is employed and that would affect the taxation of the tattoo studio. We went to the Israeli Tax Authorities in Haifa, where we were juggled around between different people for hours. We wanted to know whether I at all can open a file on my present visa, and in that case how my husbands salary will affect my taxations. Why would it do that, you might ask? Well, in this country women are not considered capable of having their own business, so when a woman opens a business, it will automatically be written also on her husband. Don't ask me what unmarried women do. Her father maybe..?

Of course did not two persons give the same answer. One of the offices we were directed to, turned out to be manned by a previous neighbour of Yoram's. From that moment and on, things ran a lot smoother. This is something that happens to my husband all the time. I am not sure whether it is pure luck, or that he simply has friends everywhere. He is also THE negotiator. I would never do business without him. He is a walking bargaining machine and he has a way of getting a smile out of the grumpiest clerk.

Anyway, we found out that it is possible for me to open a file and we even found a grey zone that separates me from Yoram, which means no taxation calculated on his income. The afternoon we spent in our accountant's office, going over other options. How we in the end decided to register, we will keep to ourselves. Contract for the place is signed, file is opened, bank account is opened, equipment is ordered, and we also went to the DIY store and bought stuff for fixing up the place, such as paint for the walls. Things are moving forward!

I wanna shove your garbage up your ass!

We went to the beach today and it was a sad story. First of all, the fishing park Dag-Bakfar opened a channel through which they poured out contaminated water from their fish ponds, straight out into the sea. It probably did not contain poison, but left-over fish food, dead fish and algae was enough to make it all but attractive to step into the water. The dogs, however, did not mind, and they happily bounced around in the green soup, and when it was time to leave they stank of fish. It was not that nice and they got a nice shampoo when we got home.

Except for the soiled water, I was again gasping in disgust over how much garbage was left on the beach. What the f**k is wrong with these people? What makes a human being so disconnected to our environment that he without blinking leaves piles of garbage on this beautiful place? I simply cannot understand this. I suppose that these trashy people will not read this anyway, since their education level probably don't enable them to comprehend my language. I am so angry!

Fish fingers

I miss the Swedish fish fingers. Of course I prefer buying fresh fish and prepare it myself, but that is somewhat an acquired taste for many kids. At least for kids who hardly ever got fish in any shape. Since I know how important the fish oil is, with its omega-3 fatty acids, I am doing my best to get the kids to eat at least some fish, in some shape. They eat canned tuna, but considering how lean the tuna meat it, there is no way that tuna can cover the required intake of omega-3. Salmon, Mackerel and Sardines would have been swell to get them to eat, but I can only dream of that. The white fish in the fish fingers is not that oily, but whatever it better than nothing.

Crispy breading and white fish filet

Then over to the Israeli fish fingers. The interior of these fish fingers mainly contain soy meal and a minimal amount of fish, merely for flavour. Then what's the point? They hardly taste fish either. At least the kids eat them. After buying the fingers for a while, I tried with some larger fish schnitzels with sesame seeds on the breading and they actually taste more fish, but still do not consist of fish alone. Even the cheapest Swedish fish fingers contain around 50% fish, including the breading. The nicest ones are even made from whole pieces of filet. How small the amount is in the Israeli ones, I don't even want to think about.

The Original... ;)

B1

Finally! Today I got my first visa with a working permit - a B1 visa. But, there is no end to how recalcitrant the process is, and how contradictory the treatment can be from one clerk to another. Because, of course, you do not have your personal clerk. Every time there is a new tight-up woman with bleached hair and too much makeup on, sitting behind the glass shield. When we were there two weeks ago, we brought, except for the wedding certificate, pictures from the wedding, but our clerk for the day said that they were not necessary, since we had previously delivered a whole bunch of other pictures.

Today we came back with our last declaration, signed and stamped by Yoram's lawyer and then of course the bitch of the day asked for the damn wedding pictures! However, we talked ourselves out of it. Yoram even offered her to look in our Facebook acounts, but she rejected the offer. We promised to bring the wedding pictures next time, which will be in six months.

Now I have a permit to work for six months, but no other rights. No social security, no nothing. This means, still no baby plans. Maternity care would be scandalously expensive before I have general social security. In the end of April 2011 we will have to bring another suitcase full of proof that we actually live our lives together, as well as answering personal questions about one another in individual interviews. After that I will get a A5 visa (temporary residency), which includes ID card (Teudat Zehut) and social security (Bituach Leumi). This will have to be renewed annually for four years, and after that I can apply for Israeli citizenship.

So...

In case you are interested in exquisite Swedish graphic design, created by a reliable and fast-producing freelancer, please contact me. Svensk Chekchouka and her husband have already used my services for their company, and they would be happy to confirm my professionalism. Samples of previous work are also available upon request. Except that I do professional translation from English to Swedish if someone needs that.

Getting your foot in the door of the agricultural business appears to be like entering Fort Knox, so I have no high hopes for that. On the other hand, freelancing from home suits me fine at the moment. I need a little income to give me freedom to develop other ideas and dreams I have, like home-made beer and cheese, as well as the saffron cultivation. When the latter happens, at least no one can blame me for wasting my education.

If someone wants me to tune their riding horse a little bit, or help them to develop their own riding skills, I would be happy to help with that too.

Now I seem desperate. Enough!

Stop building and draw that damn border!

I believe that the only right thing to do is to halt settlement construction until the future border is agreed upon. Although I know that many settlers were encouraged to move to the territories by generous subsidies from the state, I find the settlement enterprise of today appalling and not more than an arrogant strategy to prevent the creation of a Palestinian state. Same goes for East Jerusalem.

The proponents of the settlement enterprise often argue for a need of the settlements as a geopolitical security measure, and indeed was this once a legitimate reason. However, in present time, when Israel has agreed upon a two-state solution, there is no morally acceptable reason to keep on building in Jewish settlements until we know which settlements will be evacuated or not. Especially not for the reason of "natural growth". If my children one day want a house, they cannot demand that there automatically will be a house for them in Kiryat Tivon, so why on earth would it be so for people living on land that is not even Israeli yet - if it will ever be.

Then the settlers claim the unfairness in not halting constructions for the Palestinians, but as I see it there is one fundamental difference. There are no Arab cities or villages in the West Bank that risk being evacuated in order to be annexed by Israel, whereas all the Jewish settlements in the West Bank are disputed until the day the final border has been drawn. Every inch that does not contain Jewish settlements (plus of course the settlements that will be evacuated), will become Palestinian territory in their future state - so why can the Palestinians not build on that land?

Home-made goat milk yoghurt

2 litres of home-made yoghurt from goat milk

I notice now that I never shared it on this blog, but I did buy rennet when I was in Sweden, and after we returned home, I made a few batches of cottage cheese, from standardised milk. However, the tiny yield that you get from 1 litre of milk, in relation to the amount of labour and what you pay for the milk, makes it far from sustainable to make your own cottage cheese. It was more of a quaint experience to experiment a little bit with cheese making before I move on to some more complex cheese-making.

Instead of playing with standardised cow milk, I have now moved over to getting acquainted with the goat milk. Milk from different animals have different compositions and properties, therefore each and every one of them requires individual measures in the handling. Even milk from the same species will differ according to under which condition the animals live, what they eat, and so on. And, dairy products from goat milk are really, really healthy. And tasty! It is easier to digest (even for babies), due to a higher level of medium-chain fatty acids, compared to cow milk. Furthermore, almost half of people who are lactose intolerant are able to drink goat milk. Goat milk also contains more vitamin A. Cow milk instead contains precursors to vitamin A, called carotenoids. These must be turned into vitamin A in the body after ingesting the milk. The carotenoids are what makes butter and cheese from cow milk yellow, and the lack thereof in the goat milk is why all goat products remain white. Goat milk also contains more riboflavin (vitamin B2) than cow milk.

Two minutes from here, there is a big goat farm. They sell most of their milk to dairies, who I guess make dairy products like goat cheese, or possibly labaneh. It is not that common with goat milk or fresh goat yoghurt in the supermarkets. We can also go there and buy fresh, unpasteurised goat milk, basically straight from the udder. Just bring your own container and 7 ILS per litre.

Handling unpasteurised milk is a sensitive matter, and unless you are milking your own animals, and can control the hygiene during all steps, a brief pasteurisation is recommended. When the milk is still in the udder, it is free from bacteria (as long as the animal is healthy), but as soon as it passes the nipples, bacteria are added to the milk, mostly lactic acid bacteria. These are the good guys, that under optimal conditions will eliminate harmful bacteria, and later turn the milk into yoghurt. However, if the milk has been cooled down before pasteurisation, the activity of the lactic acid bacteria has slowed down, to the benefit of harmful bacteria, such as E. coli bacteria and other cryophilic (cold-tolerant) bacteria. In this case, the milk needs to be heated up to a temperature where these bacteria die, and after that you add a new culture of lactic acid bacteria to create your yoghurt.

Alas, I could not rely on the naturally occurring lactic acid bacteria in this milk, since it had been somewhat cooled down. I heated it up slowly to approximately 70 degrees and kept it there for a few minutes, and then poured it over on a clean glass bottle. I put it in the fridge to cool it down quicker, but checked it regularly so the temperature did not sink below 45-50 degrees. When I could barely hold the bottle, I added one cup of yoghurt (standardised cow-milk yoghurt), and closed the bottle again. Then the bottle was kept in a water bath, to keep the temperature around 45 degrees. I refilled with warm water for a few hours and then let it stay over night, and cool down by itself. This morning I could see that the yoghurt had already set, but now it needs another day in the fridge before consumption. One litre will go with our breakfast granola, and the other litre will become labaneh.

Making yoghurt from this goat milk is definitely sustainable. The standardised cow-milk yoghurt that we normally buy from the supermarket cost about 25 ILS for 3 litres. Here you get two litres for 14 ILS, and the work load is not heavy at all. You neither need to buy yoghurt culture, since you use a small amount of the previous yoghurt to inoculate each new batch.

Maybe I will try to do some cottage cheese from this goat milk, but my final goal is to start making more refined types of cheese. I will probably start with feta-type cheese, that will ripen in brine, or some mold-inoculated cheese ripened in oil, both of which are easy to mature in a regular household. Cheeses that need to mature "on shelf" are not that easy since it is difficult to adjust temperature and humidity in the air, unless you have a climate chamber. The mold culture I will just harvest from any of the excellent goat cheeses that are available around here. Making matured cheese from milk bought for 7 ILS per litre is neither particularly sustainable, but the feeling of achievement is much higher than after cooking together a batch of cottage cheese, and besides, one day we hope to have one or a few does to milk for ourselves, and then you can really start talking sustainability. Now it is only training and preparation. And a lot of fun!

Three days of retreat in heaven

I love camping in the nature. For me, it is a spiritual retreat, just as valuable as any retreat arranged by practitioners of yoga, meditation or any other movement. Or an aikido retreat for that matter. So, when I go camping, I prefer it to be in a secluded location, far away from noisy and littering tourists. We got many tips about locations from different friends, and we also looked around last time we went to the North. We ended up close to the Lebanese border, somewhere behind the kibbutzim Daphna and Dan. It was a bit tricky to find our way in to where we had planned to settle, but suddenly we reached the river, deep into an avocado grove.

Yoram stopped at the first spot we saw and claimed that it was perfect. There were no shadow over the minimal entry to the water and in the middle of the spot there were big irrigation tubes. I refused. Yoram was almost exploding, but I insisted that we moved on. 200 metres away we found our home. Of course he would never admit that it was worth doing that last drive, but deep down he was happy for it. The entry was small and inside a lovely zula opened up, with a perfect corner for the tent and a fire place waiting to be lit. There was a big tree in the middle and as you stepped over its big roots you stepped down in the cooling crystal-clear water.

The crystal-clear cooling water

We brought everything we needed from home, except for two huge trouts that we bought from kibbutz Dan. They became our first dinner, together with marinated and grilled mushrooms and a broccoli salad. The fish was seasoned with a spicy fish mix and dried thyme before it was grilled to perfection. Not too raw, not too dry. Juicy and soft. When the fish was ready we had already eaten the mushrooms and the salad, and we sat down and devoured one family-sized trout each.

Trouts from kibbutz Dan

Grilled to perfection

Right now the days and nights are practically 12+12 hours long, with sunsets and sunrises as fast as hitting a switch on the wall. The longer you live in nature under those conditions, the more you adapt to a natural day/night rhythm, sleeping when it is dark, waking up when the sun rises. We were only there over two nights, but already the first evening we went to bed somewhere just after 21.00. But before that we took a walk in the pitch-black night, only with the guidance from our head-lights. Next morning I awoke at 5.30, and got up to imbibe the early morning atmosphere. I took the dogs for a stroll down the avocado grove, and although the harvesting season has not started yet, it is merely around the corner, I found some fruits that had fallen down on the ground.

Sunrise just before 6.00 a.m.

Almost ripe avocados on a tree

"Good morning, Daddy!"

I went back to the tent to greet my husband as he awoke, and we made coffee in the finjan. The avocados were not perfectly ripe, but good enough to make an avocado salad for breakfast, with boiled eggs, some onion and spices. We spent a lot of time reading books. Yoram read a history book and I read a book about natural childbirth (No, I am not pregnant.). The dogs were mucking around according to their own needs and desires, and Goshen spent more time in the water than out of it. It was so funny to hear her as she descended. She really reminded me of a human, as she made a deep grunting sound from the sensation of the cold water. The cold water also assisted us keeping the beers cold. We tied them to a rope so they hang just beneath the water surface, with the cork sticking out of the water.

In the afternoon it was time to start with the poyke. One day before we left for the camping I said to Yoram "What do you say about buying a poyke?". He agreed, and it turned out to be the best buy we have made, and will make, in a very long time. I will never go camping without my poyke, ever again. You get a full meal, and most of the ingredients, like vegetables, oil and spices, have no problem with a few days in warm temperature. The only sensitive ingredient was the meat, but we brought it directly from the freezer into an ice box, together with some other stuff, and that ice box actually contained ice all the way until it was time to go home on the third day, in spite of the hot weather.

My beloved poyke making its wonders

with the things we put in him

Our poyke stew contained these ingredients, which were added in mentioned order: oil, chuck steak, rosemary, mixed red/green/black pepper, paprika powder, mineral salt, thyme, garlic cloves, red wine, water, sweet potatoes, Jerusalem artichoke, onion, fresh chili, beans in tomato sauce, sweet peas, and chopped parsley.

Stew under way!

Our poyke stew fed us three times. Once in the afternoon, when it was ready, second time for a late evening snack, and the last morning we added some water and put it back on the fire to give us a thick and full-bodied soup to dip our pitot in. When it was empty, I brought it with me down in the water and scraped the last left-overs out of it, and then let it dry in the sun. After we came home, I cleaned it once more with warm water, and then greased it with oil to prevent rust. I love my poyke!

The water was cold. Well, with Swedish measures it was like just before it hits the maximum temperatures possible in Swedish summer waters, i.e. around 20 degrees. It was not meant for long swims, but nevertheless, the hot weather motivated us to regular dips in the refreshing water. It was also clear. Unless you stirred the bottom up, you could see everything. We did not see much fish, but I found a cute crab that I to Yoram's horror picked up. This guy was not big enough to eat, but normally I love crab meat. Yoram on the other hand, has sworn to never eat crab in his whole life, and it has nothing to do with kashrut or not. Obviously he already forgot that our first meal when we arrived to Sweden for our wedding, was a king crab cocktail and a bottle of Veuve Clicquot.

Cooling down

Cute little fellow

Both dogs were running freely when we were awake, but for the night, we put Barak on a leash long enough to reach around our little bower. He is too territorial to let run loose unsupervised. During the second night there were some people walking on the road at some point, and Barak did exactly what he is supposed to, he gave two-three low-pitched barks that said "Please, stay away from here! I am guarding my family!". Instead, he slept a lot during the daytime. No doubt, did we feel safe.

Our security chief

We had camped on the beach already, and that was great in its own way, but I knew already somewhere deep down that I would love this setting more. It is definitely more quiet, less wind, not having sand everywhere all the time, natural shade, sweet water to clean yourself and other things in, no other people (if you make the effort to find the right place), etc.

As I said in the beginning, you need more than two-three days for the real serenity to kick in, and I hope that we will be able to do that on another occasion. I let go easier than Yoram, since I am simply more used to it already. I have felt that state, and can therefore reach there faster. Yoram is afraid of getting bored and restless, but that is part of the process of letting go. If you are bored and restless, you refuse to let go. Simple as that. We deserve laziness in our lives now and then, to regain energy and motivation. It is good for both the physical and spiritual health. On this trip we indulged ourselves in three of the Seven Cardinal Sins: lust, gluttony and sloth, of which I don't consider even one to be sinful. Only part of enjoying life.

Another natural zula we found,

with the possibility for setting up more than one tent

Boiling Sukkot in Jerusalem

On the Monday we had decided to go to Jerusalem with the boys. Ziv has been there before, but for Gal it was the first time. Normally this time of the year, it is comfortable 25-27 degrees, but this year the summer does not seem to want to give up, and we wandered around Jerusalem in 35 degrees, under a frying sun, among gizillions of people, since it was the Sukkot holidays. This did not have a positive effect on the enthusiasm of the kids, alas, we ended up dragging two whiny kids to the Western Wall, around the Old City and to the famous Mahane Yehuda Market. Nevertheless, at the end of the day, we went home with some nice experiences in the luggage. Now we do not have to bring the boys there for another decade or so... Or?

Natural high by the Western Wall

Ethiopian Jews brought both colours and music...

... wearing beautiful clothing and playing instruments

Foggy distance

I noticed that the rightist news broadcasting in Israel mentioned that the party "Sverigedemokraterna" (Swedish Democrats) have taken seats in the Swedish parliament after the general elections last Sunday. They referred to it as an anti-Muslim and pro-Israeli party, as if they were allies of some sort. However, they forgot to mention the important detail that the party has its origin in the neo-nazi movement. Alas, the flirting with the pro-Israeli lobby is just a dirty scam. They do not like Jews more than they like Arabs. Clearly, the Israeli coverage of Sweden is not more accurate than the Swedish coverage of Israel...

Update: Haaretz seems a bit more sober on the matter.

Late summer adventures

When I look back on all the days I spend at home, acting like a desperate housewife, I sometimes feel that my life is a little bit boring. Then I can just look in my image library from the last few weeks, and my mind switches. Certainly, it is not that satisfying to be somewhat stuck at home a lot, but hopefully things will change soon. I am doing some graphic design and translation jobs from home, but in the beginning of October we have another appointed battle with Misrad Hapnim to deliver our wedding certificate, and hopefully my residency here will be a bit more legal shortly after that.

In the meantime the camera documentation proofs that I am living the good life, roaming this blessed land. One evening, we took the horses on a longer ride from the stables. We visited Beit She'arim and the Alexander Zaïd statue, and stayed there until the sun set behind the Carmel mountain. The breeze almost felt a bit cooling for the first time in three months. However, the extreme summer does not seem to let go of its intense grip just yet. We still sleep with the fan all night long, butt naked on the bed. I have neither used warm water for any shower yet, and it is mid September! People have a hard time believing me, but I am totally loving it!

Jojo and the black mare Laila

Alexander Zaïd statue in the sunset

Last Shabbat we took the kids on another kayaking adventure. This time we started off a bit further up North, in HaGoshrim instead of Kfar Blum. The water in the river was now definitely cooler than when we were there in August, but with the mercilessly frying sun above, it was with pure joy that we spent more time in the water than in the boat.

We succeeded to match our trip with Eid ul-Fitr, the Muslim holiday that marks the end of the Ramadan, and it felt like all of Israel's 1,2 million Muslims had come to HaGoshrim to do some kayaking, or at least the adolescent ones. We all know what happens when adolescents with strict and religious parents go on holiday. They act like obnoxious testosterone-poisoned monsters, screaming, brawling and littering all around. All the boys tried to win the famous macho war, while the girls tried to squeal as high as possible if the boat rocked a bit too much. You who know me understand that this has nothing to do with bashing Muslims. I have enough Muslim friends to be able to speak up against bad manners among them. I do that with whoever deserves it.

Baptised? I don't think so. Blessed? Yes!

Beautiful Hasbani river, a tributary to Jordan river

Nevertheless, in between the herds of wild youngsters we enjoyed some quiet time on the river and after the kayaking we went to Kibbutz Dan for some time at the pool with the cousins of the boys. We got some nice tips for spots to camp on along one of the rivers that are well hidden from kayakers and the rest of the Israeli camping populace. After Sukkot we have five days in a row without kids and then we will put ourselves and the dogs on a river bank far away from civilisation. Or, as our tipper put it, "It is that far up North that if you meet anyone, it's Hezbollah".