Days 33-34: Dry and wet.

Here we are on another Friday, wink, wink. And, as happens every Friday, we cut fruit for drying. we did apples and pears today. The apples are pretty easy, but the pears, if they are too small, are a pain in the ass. Here is the fruit going on the tables.

Then, because it was hot and we had worked hard to get everything done, we went off to the pool. It is so much fun to swim and play keep-away with the girls. Lulu is a riot because she squeals and squeaks like most ten-year old girls, I'd imagine. And it is fun to tease her with the ball. But we are completely fair, in that Rotem and me let her get it much of the time, and that we go into the center so that she doesn't have to--all of the time, anyway. I can swim the length of the pool underwater; its olympic sized--or I'm telling myself that.

Ah art lessons. We missed last week because the family went away. But for a couple of weeks we've been talking about different drawing materials. I told them how much fun charcoal was to use, but I had to tell them I didn't bring any. So we talked about making some.

Do you realize how hard it is to find a willow tree in Israel? It's tough. Finally Avi asked one of the local cops, who gets around, and the cop said nope, nada, ain't gonna find one (That is a rough translation.). But while the family was in Tel Aviv they found one and cut some branches. Then when the Shabbat chicken was cooking in the wood-burning oven Tamar put the willow in a pot and cooked it. It makes great charcoal! I did a couple of quick drawings to show the family, and it looks like one of our next lessons is settled.

There are so many cats in Ezuz. I don't see how there can be one rodent here. Blues, the dog, is cordial with the ten or so family cats. But if a Tom cat comes around (the Toms are called Gingers here) Blues is on them! A good thing, too, because there are not enough left-overs for these cats much less some more.

This guy is one of my favorites. He loves me.

I'm pointing to my braided beard, but
check out that hair popping up on my
shoulder!

At what time in my life did my pointer finger start to canter in? And where did all of those wrinkles come from? And I certainly don't remember all of those freckles. I can remember when my first chest hair came in. I was so proud. I think I went without a shirt for three days. Now I can braid the hair on my back--or my front!

And then the sun went down. Isn't that in a song somewhere? For a guy who claims to be unimpressed by music I sure do know a bunch of songs. With the help of Val I am coming to understand a bit more about music, too. Even so, my music will never be as pretty as the sunsets here in Ezuz on Saturday nights.