As you can imagine, life's an adventure. It's hard at times to make plans, to predict how things will go and when and how I'll arrive at places and events. Besides my very Jewish use of the verb "schlepped" to describe how I got to the pre-season IFL tackle football game between the Lions and the Rebels in Mishor Adumim, I did not give details.
Schlepped is the best word to describe the trip. If I had gone directly and simply by car, which we don't have, the trip from Shiloh to Mishor Adumim could have been quicker than going to Kraft Stadium in Jerusalem. That's in theory. Actually, if I had gone by car I would probably have been very late, or maybe not.
Before leaving I checked the bus schedule and realized that there was one bus too early and another that would get me to my pickup point in Maale Adumim (which required catching a Maale Adumim bus to the mall there from Ammunition Hill) just on time or a drop late. So I compromised on trying for a tremp between the two buses. I've done this successfully many times before, but Thursday it just didn't happen. There were no rides to Jerusalem, so I took the bus. The bus made great time, and by the time we reached Sha'ar Binyamin I was very cheerful and optimistic that my ride wouldn't have to wait long for me.
Then a couple of kilometers later, just after Adam, traffic stood still.
Every few minutes we moved a few meters. Eventually we saw security vehicles which were apparently checking for terrorists. And there were a couple of Arab licensed cars stopped and deserted on the road. After that we began to travel at the usual speed, but we had lost 45 minutes!! That meant that the earliest I could get to Maale Adumim would be when the game was scheduled to begin, instead of the half hour before game time, when my friend had hoped to pick me up.
I hopped on the first bus to Maale Adumim I saw. It ended up with the worst possible route, the mall last rather than almost first. How would we manage without our cellphones? My friend told me to get off at the first stop there where she picked me up and we hurried to the game. At least neither of our sons were actually playing. Hers is injured and mine is the Coach. We got there and cheered the team. That's what mothers like us do...
A Jewish Grandmother: Original, unedited daily musings, and host to the monthly Kosher Cooking Carnival. **Copyright(C)BatyaMedad ** For permission to use these in publications of any sort, please contact me directly. Private accredited distribution encouraged. Thank you.
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