Author, editor, attempter of this thing called life. Social anxiety warrior. Re-Connections, a collection of short stories, published with Ocelot Press, 15/10/2025.
…if you want to know what to write about then you can always tell the rest of us more about life in Israel because, to us, it seems foreign and exotic and most of us also need to know more about it because we mostly get a very lopsided view in the news. Please?
I replied
OK Cat, I’ll try. But most of it seems very ordinary and maybe that’s what’s special here. Because the countries all around us do seem foreign and exotic – not necessarily in a good way.
Since then I’ve been wondering what I can write. Then I saw this post, and… well, you’d better read it first. It’s not long. I can wait.
And that’s the thing. It wouldn’t even have occurred to me to photograph or remark on that non-incident because it’s so ordinary. Is that the sort of thing you want to read about on here, Cat? Is it the sort of thing anyone wants to read about?
Eight years ago I had three children at school. Now they’re all grown up and following their different paths.
Eight years ago I was just beginning to write. Now I’ve been writing seriously for some time.
Eight years ago I was working as a technical writer. Now I doubt I’ll return to that job.
The world is quite a different place from what it was eight years ago.
One thing has remained constant during that time. Ariel Sharon has remained in a coma. But today his health is deteriorating and his life is in danger. That’s today’s front page news. Eight years ago, Ariel Sharon was our prime minister. But eight years is a long time.
Thirty-eight years is even longer. When I went out today, I took this photo:
Thirty-eight years ago, when I visited Israel, hubby-to-be was living in that building. It was an absorption centre – a place for new immigrants to stay until they moved on. Now it’s empty and is being offered for rent. I wonder who would want to rent such a large building. The building opposite that used to be a bank is, according to an official notice, about to be torn down and replaced by a block of flats.
All around us building is going on. Our neighbours on both sides are making changes to their houses.
Things change, whether for good or for bad. Even Ariel Sharon can’t remain in a coma for ever.
I realised what I want from 2014 when I commented on Annalisa’s blog: “I had fun in 2013. I want 2014 to be fun, too, but more productive and fulfilling. I want to push myself more.”
Last night I had more fun when we welcomed 2014 with a little celebration at folk dancing. The January New Year in Israel is always a bit subdued compared to many other parts of the world. Although we know it’s not religious, there’s a feeling that this holiday isn’t really ours. “Happy New Year” refers to a different time and today is a normal working day.
Before that I made a decision about the 100k in 100 days challenge. I’m going to do it. I’m going to write lots of blog posts and stories and more and hope to reach the target. I succeeded at NaNoWriMo in November, so there’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to do this.
The only problem is that I haven’t done enough planning and will have to decide what to write as I go along. Any suggestions will be gratefully received.
One of the ways I think I should push myself is by blogging more about social anxiety and how it comes into play in everything I do. Because not mentioning it is like trying to pretend it doesn’t exist, which I did for much too long. I started writing in order to raise awareness of social anxiety and I need to carry on doing that.
So that’s what my ‘Fourteen will be about: Fun, Fulfilment and Forcing myself to cross new boundaries.
And so, as 2013 draws to a close, I have to make a decision: will I attempt the 100k words in 100 days challenge again, starting tomorrow? If I do, I’ll have to come up with more ideas of what to write. Hmm….
What I’m sure about is that I will continue blogging in 2014 as long as I still have visitors.
…when someone wishes me merry Christmas or happy holidays or season’s greetings. I’m just amused.
Because, while we have plenty of holidays here, only the Christians celebrate Christmas, and not all of those celebrate it on 25th December. The Greek Orthodox Church celebrates Christmas on January 7th according to our calendar, the Armenian Church on January 19th.
When I lived in England, the day was special for us because it was a day off for most people. We used to spend it with my uncle and aunt and cousins in their house, and we always enjoyed it.
But here in Israel it’s a non-holiday for us, a normal day. If I went to the Old City, I expect I’d see signs of celebration in the Christian Quarter, but elsewhere there are no signs at all. What amuses me is the assumption by some people that the whole world celebrates Christmas in some way. So if I send greetings, I usually get the same back.
People who think about it a bit more might say, “Happy Chanuka.” Most years that would be suitable, but Chanuka came early this year.
Only one person replied in the same way as I usually do when people wish me a happy whatever: “Thank you.”
Today I went into town to get a new battery for my watch and do some shopping at the market. I took some photographs to show how normal everything was. Well, almost.
The train was crowded, as usual.
Light railway train into town
More so on the way back when it would have been hard to take out my camera.
All the shops were open, including the watch shop that I needed.
Ben Hillel Street
Ben Yehuda Street looked as usual,
Ben Yehuda Street
except for the piles of snow, still there eleven days after the last snowfall.
Pile of snow
All over the Machane Yehuda market, it was business as usual,
Machane Yehuda market
including my favourite sweet shop.
Sweet shop
Back at the end of the light rail line, a bus weaved between
No, I’m not dreaming of a white Christmas. We’ve had quite enough snow for this year, thank you. In fact, I wouldn’t mind if I never saw another snowstorm like the one we had last week, beautiful as it was.
But as we did have a snowstorm so close to that holiday that’s somehow connected with it, I thought I’d post some links to posts about one or the other.
Thursday was fun. We ventured out into our snow-covered garden. I took photos, saw lots of other photos on Facebook, read comments about the snow and blogged about it. In the afternoon we received a phone call from the supermarket. They wouldn’t be able to deliver our order the next day. We looked to see what food we had. OK, we could manage.
On Friday we woke up to more snow and no electricity. Not so nice. We had no heating, no hot water and no Internet. And batteries that wouldn’t last for long.
On Saturday the snow was thicker. Thicker than I’ve ever seen it anywhere. And the electricity only came back in the evening after being off for 40.5 hours.
But it could have been worse.
We were able to cook on gas rings. When we moved here we considered using electricity because it would have been easier. But we decided we prefer cooking on gas. Just as well!
We also turned on the gas to heat up the kitchen.
We had enough food to keep going.
If they’d delivered the food we ordered, it would have gone off.
There were four of us at home. I wouldn’t have liked to be alone in that situation.
The excitement in these parts knows no bounds. Pictures are all over Facebook. Schools are closed. Workplaces, too. News broadcasts are almost entirely about this.
“What happened?” you might ask.
“It’s snowing.”
“So what?”
“So what! This is Jerusalem. The whole city has closed down. People come from all over the country to see the city covered in white – if they can manage to get here. And you say, so what!”
Besides, how many people can say they’ve seen oranges growing in snow?
One morning during November, I took time out from writing my NaNo novel and went to check out a different dancing group – not the one I usually go to.
I had my doubts about it from the start because it was advertised as a group for over sixties and I wasn’t sure I wanted that segregation. It was much more serious than my usual group. They concentrated on one dance and discussed each step, telling us exactly how it should be performed – back straight, face the front and so on.
I understood that the result would be pleasant to watch because all the dancers would be doing exactly the same, but wasn’t sure I wanted to put in that amount of effort. I go dancing to have fun.
We had to hold hands. In my usual group we’re sometimes told to hold hands. I generally don’t and I’m not the only one. When I don’t yet know a dance properly I’m afraid of making a mistake when holding hands and bumping into my neighbour. When I know the dance and my neighbour doesn’t, I don’t enjoy being bumped into. In this group we had no choice.
But the thing that bothered me the most was when one of the instructors (there were two for this small group) discussed a step called: step step jump. She said they don’t actually lift the foot off the ground at the jump. She said at our age we shouldn’t be jumping – that it’s bad for us.
That was when I decided I definitely wouldn’t be returning to that group. I enjoy dancing because I like to jump around and have fun. How can that be bad for me?
While America is gorging itself for Thanksgiving and the rest of the world is busy stocking up on Christmas presents, we’re celebrating Chanukah. And doing a bit of gorging ourselves.
The photo I posted last year came out so well, I had to post it again.
Along with my favourite of all the Chanukah songs, although I didn’t find a version I really liked.
Miriam Drori, Author 