War Musings, Real Life-- Fed Up

This is cross-posted on Shiloh Musings. I was debating which blog, so it seemed to make sense to post on both.  

War Musings #71 Real Life Under Attack 

My simple battery alarm clock

I first posted this as a "rant" on my Facebook page and then realized that it needs wider exposure. I know that some people won't agree with me. I want to make it clear that we don't have a "safe room" certified shelter in our house, but our house was built relatively well, double outer walls and a ceiling prepared for a second floor. My husband and I are both "elderly" and don't run out of the house when there's a siren. We go to inner walls away from windows, but when sleeping in bed... we rarely do more than cover ourselves. Sorry that's the truth and the situation with many people I know, even if their homes are more fragile than ours.

Another important point is that the alerts, which come by cellphone, are 5-10 minutes before a missile may reach our area. Most of the time, even when followed by a siren 5-10 minutes later, the missile was destroyed by the Iron Dome. And many of the missiles would have landed miles and miles away. 

"Last night's "alerts" were the last straw for me. I had gone to sleep early because of total physical and emotional exhaustion, but a couple of hours later I was awaken by a serial of alerts via my cellphone. Except for Shabbat and Jewish holidays, it's kept on -not just during the war- and within grabbing distance of my bed. It's also set with an alarm for those super rare nights I sleep late.

The alerts we get are supposed to give us time to get to a "safe" location, just in case the "sighted" missile may land nearby; if there actually is a missile close by the siren will shrill. A very high percentage of the warnings are NEVER followed by a siren. So last night I was woken for no reason at all. None of the sensed missiles ended up near Shiloh. We weren't actually in danger.

That's it for me. I plan on turning off my phone at night and turning on my simple battery alarm clock. When I wake in the morning, I'll turn on my phone."

Will This New Fridge Last Us...

My new refrigerator!

Just over twenty years ago, when we got our recently deceased refrigerator, we were two decades, yes a score, younger. It lasted us well these past twenty years, as most of our kids got married and grandchildren born. Twenty years ago we were still working and feeling young. Now we're retired and as busy as we try to be, we're certainly not young. 

I'll miss this old fridge...

Thank Gd we're both alive and relatively healthy, but that refrigerator bought in our middle age has died. On Friday I kept hearing what sounded like an electric saw, which I thought was from a neighbor doing some sort of construction. But then when the sound continued on Shabbat, I suspected that it must be something else. It came from our old trusty fridge. Gevalt, such a dramatic death. I realized that it wasn't working, but on Shabbat there wasn't much I could do. I trusted its insulation to preserve my food until after Shabbat.

When Shabbat was out I sent out a desperate plea to neighborhood WhatsApp groups requesting cold and freezing refuge for the food hiding out in the no longer "superior SHARP." A few "half shelves" were offered, when a nearby neighbor said that she had a spare fridge/freezer just waiting for us. It took a few trips with heavy bags, but the neighboring refrigerator got most of the food. I stored milk for morning coffee and a few other items on a window sill which never gets sun or heat, so my #morningcoffeehaiku wasn't affected. 

Sunday morning, as early as I dared, I clicked the site of the Chashmalit Beit El electric appliance store in Beit El and found myself communicating with them about a new refrigerator. After my reporting the size of the niche it had to fit into, they offered two, but one seemed a bissel too wide. Refrigerators keep changing their measurements, sort of like most of us. I had been hoping for a new one just the size of the old one, even a drop taller... but wasn't possible. I asked when a new fridge could be delivered, and they said that if I decided within half an hour, then it would come between 1-4pm. That sounded good, even great. I consulted with one of my kids, since I couldn't reach my husband. 

But then I had to solve another problem. The delivery men would take the old fridge, but they weren't going to pull it out of its niche, and my arms aren't long enough to wrap around it do do the job. Also, I really wanted to clean out the niche before the new fridge moved in. So, again I sent messages to local WhatsApp groups. No responses... so I contacted a young neighbor with big tall kids to see if anyone was available to help a short old lady. Luckily one of her sons could come, and he easily pulled out the ol' refrigerator and helped me unplug it. It was a stubborn as some crotchety elderly can be.

Soon after 1pm the new fridge arrived. It even matches my kitchen better than the old one did. I was told not to plug it in for about four hours. During that time, I was busy with less pleasant things than staring at the new, still empty refrigerator. I went down to our local cemetery twice. First for an azkara, memorial ceremony, and after that to the funeral of a dear friend, an older woman who had passed away that very morning.

When I returned I plugged it in and tried to understand the instructions. This fridge is very modern. All the controls are on the door, much better than inside, but I had to figure it out. The LG even has a Shabbat mode. Apparently, all I have to do is to press a button for a few seconds, and it's ready for Shabbat. After Shabbat I'm to just press it again. I guess I'll have to "practice" beforehand. Yes, this is the new generation of religious appliances. If you want, I'll report on my "adjustments." 

And it took me until this morning, until I brought all my food from my neighbor. Why did it take so long? OK, that's another story...

Shapiro's Purim Beer

 

My neighbor mentioned to me that she had received a couple of beers among the Mishloach Manot-Purim Food Gifts and wanted to know if I was interested in receiving them. She's not a beer drinker. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, as they say, so I didn't ask for details, just said "yes, thankyou." 

This morning she brought them to me, and one had me almost jumping for joy-- Shapiro Purim Pale Ale. Maybe some of you remember that I wrote about the Shapiro IPA seven, yes, 7 years ago. Over the years, my taste buds have changed, and now I prefer a good IPA to wine. Once she saw how enthusiastic I was about it being a Shapiro Beer, she was happy to join me drinking it.

She was even impressed that I knew how to pour beer... then I checked the aroma. Lovely fruity, natural fruit for sure. And it tasted wonderful. Even my non-beerdrinking neighbor liked it. 

Just one thing to mention... The bottle says it's a 5% alcohol beer, contrary to what I read on the Shapiro site, but that's OK, especially in the morning. During a war, it's especially nice to find small treats, like a good Israeli IPA. Thanks, Shapiro...

Real Life Under Fire

A local shelter, I waited in a couple of times

I thought I could write a Baile Rochel about real life under fire, but although I do find some humor, it's just too serious a situation. I planned a Baile Rochel before Israelis were murdered, but now... I can't ignore the tragedies, even when I can mock/satirize what is ironically enjoyable. ... it's not that life has been dull, but...

This isn't in Shiloh, but I did
visit it. Some people spend the
night in their local shelter, so
they don't have to wake up and run
to safety. Especially those with young  
children.

No doubt you're aware that I live in Israel, so you must be aware that we're under attack. Iran has been launching dangerous rockets at Israel, destroying homes and murdering innocent Israelis. Many Israelis have been injured, too. 

Some have been injured trying to get to shelter. One old man even died on his way to safety. Most Israelis don't have convenient shelters in or near their homes. We're among them, unfortunately, but I'm so grateful that we had our house built extraordinarily well insulated with stronger walls and foundations than standard. There are a few spots, away from windows, where my husband and I feel safe, certainly safer than we'd be going to a neighborhood shelter.

On Shabbat, just hours after the war began, as I was walking to a Torah class, suddenly a neighbor called out that there had been an alert. She's the mother of young children and used the emergency situation to turn on her phone. I was just a few steps from the shelter pictured at the top of the post, so I walked in. One entered with a bottle of whiskey, so of course I requested some-- which he happily poured for me. By the time it was affirmed that there had been an "all clear," lots of other neighbors had entered, and we had a lovely time together. 

Once it was permitted, I continued on my way to the class. The neighbor who had agreed to give it was surprised that we had shown up and were waiting for him. When it was over, there was another alert. That gave me ten minutes to return to the shelter I had been in previously. No whiskey that time, but great company. After the all clear, I walked home.

True story, Shushan Purim Sameach