tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22185362237753498822024-03-18T20:42:28.601-07:00Inner ToddlerSusie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.comBlogger493125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-73033987807446016182012-09-24T04:26:00.003-07:002012-09-24T04:26:44.550-07:00MovedInner Toddler has now moved <a href="http://www.susielubell.blogspot.com/">here</a>.<br />
Once you're there, you can add susielubell.blogspot.com to your RSS feed.<br />
See you on the other side!<br />
xox<br />
susieSusie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-67859833776381956242012-09-17T01:02:00.000-07:002012-09-17T01:02:17.238-07:00A Raisin Celery<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7994919487/" title="My sister in law's vegetarian gefilte fish on apple slices! by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="My sister in law's vegetarian gefilte fish on apple slices!" height="400" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8302/7994919487_9053eeac36_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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Happy New Year! Last night we had family over to celebrate Rosh Hashanah and my mother-in-law brought along a delightful little service to accompany what I can only describe as the most delicious Jewish New Year meal I've ever had. Just like with Passover we had a seder plate filled with the season's offerings: beets, dates, cabbage, pumpkin, carrots, figs, pomegranate, apple, honey, celery and raisins. And each fruit came with it's own blessing for the New Year. The family favorite this year was "lettuce have a raisin celery". Mr. Rosen accompanied on guitar. The kids were squirrely, as with anything new, but it was a lovely way to begin the evening.<br />
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And then came the food. Everyone brought their best game and each dish featured some traditional elements. I made a spinach salad with goat cheese and figs, roasted potatoes and sweet potatoes, sweet noodle kugel and cabbage salad with carrots, beets, raisins and apples. My sister-in-law and brother-in-law brought a lentil salad with fresh herbs and pomegranate seeds, baked quinoa stuffed onions, vegetarian gefilte fish on sliced apple with fresh horse radish. Mr. Rosen made his green beans and onions. My mother-in-law brought seven vegie and seven herb soup and her famous plum cake for desert. It was as much a feast for the eyes as it was for the tongue. It got us talking about whether beautiful food tastes better than unattractive food. The answer is probably yes for reasons both scientific and psychological. Although I had a steak and eggs this summer at a cafe in Tel Aviv that looked like a dead jellyfish (the waitress warned me) and it was unbelievably delicious. I guess there are exceptions. But beauty is in the eye of the beholder, said the jellyfish.<br />
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Wishing everyone a sweet new year! <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7994926334/" title="Mmmm... Spinach, fig and goat cheese salad. by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Mmmm... Spinach, fig and goat cheese salad." height="400" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8033/7994926334_81e0bc5051_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7994918214/" title="Rosh hashanah Seder featuring the new blessing: lettuce have a raisin celery. Shanah Tovah! by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Rosh hashanah Seder featuring the new blessing: lettuce have a raisin celery. Shanah Tovah!" height="400" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8320/7994918214_13cd557644_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-50938657752704442562012-09-11T14:26:00.000-07:002012-09-11T14:27:18.792-07:00Puzzled<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7963820110/" title="Mamilla by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8295/7963820110_7c89fff52d_z.jpg" width="400" height="400" alt="Mamilla"></a><br />
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Well as it turns out I took the whole summer off. I had every intention of keeping you abreast of our adventures but I was too busy having them. In brief, summer was long and hot and fun-filled. It included a family wedding, many visitors from America, a month-long trip to California and New York and a lot of jetlag. It also included some time thinking about how I'll spend my days once summer is over. <br />
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So summer is over. And I am back to work with commissions lined up and ideas bursting out of my head. Having taken the summer off from work I've had the chance to step back and evaluate what it is I want to do. But there are so many pieces you see. The art, the blog, the business, the purpose and the nitty gritty stuff like understanding the Israeli tax system! It's a mighty puzzle. For instance, one of the things I've been wanting to do for ages is unify everything I do under one "brand". But how does Inner Toddler fit in with Mishmish. And now that my kids are older, their crazy stories are sometimes disturbing to me and I kind of don't want to write about them. I mostly just want to bury my head and forget about them. And the baby, he's cute, but none of his schtick will provide the kind of frenzied dismay that the others generated simply because I've pretty much seen it all (famous last words). <br />
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So it's a puzzle which I am slowly figuring out. Numbering all the pieces like a good archeologist and hoping to unearth something extraordinary along the way. In the interim, over here I'll be playing dress up, moving stuff around, seeing what feels right and reconnecting to what I do and why I do it. Stay tuned...Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-70876394160326557542012-07-19T23:57:00.000-07:002012-07-19T23:57:17.085-07:00Today is the twentieth<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7608062760/" title="three_blog by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="three_blog" height="400" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8159/7608062760_0a5b123792_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Rene, Harry and Stanley, circa 1942</span><br />
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Twenty years is a long time.<br />
A lot can happen in twenty years.<br />
You could graduate from college.<br />
You could travel in South America for six months.<br />
You could move to Jerusalem. <br />
You could meet the love of your life.<br />
You could travel together around the world.<br />
You could move back to America.<br />
Get a masters.<br />
Marry the love of your life.<br />
Start a career.<br />
Buy a house. <br />
Have a son.<br />
Have a daughter.<br />
Start a new career.<br />
Have another son.<br />
Sell your house. <br />
Move back to Israel.<br />
Start over.<br />
<br />
Twenty years is For. Ever.<br />
And yet it's gone like that. poof. <br />
Twenty years is today.<br />
I was 18.<br />
Eighteen. <br />
Now I'm 38.<br />
It's a long time to be missing your dad.<br />
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And an even longer time to be missing your son.<br />
So while I am profoundly sad to have lost my grandmother two weeks ago at age 91, part of me is glad that in my childish vision of the next world, she and my father and my grandfather are together again raising their martini glasses to their legacy. L'chaim guys. <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7506541288/" title="mamapop by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="mamapop" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7277/7506541288_dcd57a96bc_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7506542168/" title="mamapopsepia by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="mamapopsepia" height="400" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8156/7506542168_dbb890aabe_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<br />Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-33502211001791403602012-06-13T03:15:00.001-07:002012-06-20T13:08:08.566-07:00The picture I wanted<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7365582234/" title="Birthday Boy by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Birthday Boy" height="602" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7230/7365582234_cd370a86d9_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
This is the picture I wanted. Well not exactly but pretty close. I wanted a picture of my little boy with his crown of flowers, next to his cake, with his one candle, surrounded by adoring friends and family with their mouths in various states of half open singing Happy Birthday to him. I wouldn't have minded a smile too. But this picture is close enough. And it almost didn't happen.<br />
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I hit a low point last week right around the baby's birthday. On the actual day of his birthday we didn't really do anything. By the time Mr. Rosen came home from work (which was pretty early actually) and made the cake with the big kids, it was already nearing bed time and darkness. I hadn't had time to make his crown. We barely put up some construction paper garlands. And it was just us. No other family or friends. Entirely my fault. It was midweek and everyone was busy and anyway we thought of having family over on the weekend so I just let it go. Then on the weekend the plans got miscommunicated and suddenly there was no party. Not even family. And I started feeling very sad to be far away from my family knowing that had we still been in California I would have just gone to Michael's, picked out some streamers and napkins and whatever, some cake decorations and made him a little party with our closest friends and cousins and everyone would have found a way to come.<br />
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Mr. Rosen felt partially responsible for having downplayed the importance of this event. Indeed I downplayed it myself. But I was secretly wishing the party would plan itself because I have really reached the upper limit on sleep deprivation and plus there's no Michael's here so I don't know where to buy party supplies. So Mr. Rosen made some calls and in fact a few of our closest friends planned to drop everything and come.<br />
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Except they didn't come because the next day Mr. Rosen contracted some nasty stomach bug and spent most of the day throwing up. So I cancelled the party. But the baby's aunt and uncle still popped over with some treats including the blackberries from their garden which I used to decorate his cake. The kids had all spent the night at their grandparents so I actually slept eight hours and finally had the time and brain functioning to make his crown out of the bougainvillea in our yard. <br />
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So in the late afternoon Mr. Rosen's parents arrived with the kids and we celebrated our little boy's first birthday feeling grateful for all of the people in our lives and everything they have done and continue to do to make us feel at home here. <br />
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And I got the pictures I wanted.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7365589566/" title="DSC_0028 by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="DSC_0028" height="400" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8012/7365589566_495bfbf383_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7365465134/" title="DSC_0038 by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="DSC_0038" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7224/7365465134_8df415e547_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7365585824/" title="DSC_0049 by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="DSC_0049" height="602" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8028/7365585824_32fb8fcbfc_z.jpg" width="400" /></a>Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-25135538086834661932012-06-05T22:34:00.000-07:002012-06-06T00:28:10.070-07:00A year in the life<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/g5NOOu3189g" width="420"></iframe><br />
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Dear Smiley McPoint and Whimper,<br />
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Where did the time go sweet cheeks? I turned around to get you a new diaper and you turned one! How'd you do that? I'm petty sure this has been your BEST. YEAR. EVER. I mean, what with the <a href="http://innertoddler.blogspot.co.il/2011/06/birth-story.html">canon shot delivery</a>, <a href="http://innertoddler.blogspot.co.il/2011/08/bear-proof-vehicle.html">the road trip we took for your entire third month of life</a>, <a href="http://innertoddler.blogspot.co.il/2011/09/sold.html">the moving to a new house</a>, <a href="http://innertoddler.blogspot.co.il/2011/11/welcome-to-israel.html">the moving to a NEW COUNTRY</a>, <a href="http://innertoddler.blogspot.co.il/2011/11/watch-out-for-poop.html">the moving to another new house</a>, <a href="http://innertoddler.blogspot.co.il/2011/12/how-it-hit-fan-and-then-i-lost-it.html">the seven day rash that looked like measles</a>, the sleep training and retraining and retraining and giving up, <a href="http://innertoddler.blogspot.co.il/2012/01/how-universe-sent-me-babysitter-part-i.html">the babysitter that I loved but you hated</a>, the freezing winter when we never bathed you because that would mean exposing you to the elements, all of the handling by well-intentioned siblings, the baby album I never made you because you're the third and anyway I haven't even finished your sister's and she's five? I'd say it was a pretty awesome year. And you were a champ.<br />
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It's hard to believe that a year ago we were signing the papers on our house sale and bringing you home from the hospital. You were supposed to be the charm. The third one and last and easiest. You were supposed to take a pacifier and a bottle. You were supposed to sleep through the night at three weeks. Or three months, MAX. You were supposed to be the one who happily went to anyone's arms. You were the one who would sense my mood swings and behave accordingly.<br />
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Turns out you were not easy. You neither took a pacifier nor a bottle nor do you suck your thumb. You've been "sleep trained" so many times it is unclear who is the trainer and who is the trainee. We're hoping you sleep through the night by three YEARS at this rate. You prefer the arms of Mommy and Aba with very few exceptions. You cry all the time no matter if I'm tired and having a bad day or deliriously energetic and mother-of-the-year. You're kind of a piece of work. <br />
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But you make up for it in countless ways. Like how when you hear music, you conduct! And you nestle your head into my lap while we're sitting on the carpet and stay there while I'm on the phone. So considerate! And how you speed crawl over to Aba when he comes home from work screaming ADA ADA! Ada likes that a lot. You also eat olives. And just about everything else. And you do tricks for Grandma on skype. That makes her feel great. And how you play peek a boo from behind my back. And behind the door. And behind anything. And how you like to climb on the dishwasher and pull out the knives. <i>Why just the knives? </i><br />
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Yours is a different kind of charm, Chicken Legs. You were the one that finally convinced me to start letting it all go. All of my notions of what a mother should and should not do. All of my expectations. All of my judgements. All of my guilt. All of my type A-ness. You were the one who finally got me to accept that cereal can be fine for dinner, it's just as easy to find what you want to wear from a clean laundry pile on the floor as it is from the inside of your closet and a back-to-back Disney movie marathon can be a great way to restore quiet to crazy house. <br />
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Anyway, this year has been unforgettable for so many reasons but none of them hold a candle to you sunshine. You completed our family.<br />
<br />
love,<br />
MommySusie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-38445292285050513762012-05-19T13:00:00.001-07:002012-05-20T05:45:36.226-07:00Fresh Paint<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7226358960/" title="Fresh Paint, Adam Sher by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Fresh Paint, Adam Sher" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7227/7226358960_281e683f61_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Fresh Paint Contemporary Art Fair, Tel Aviv (piece by Adam Sher)</span><br />
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Today was another fun day in Tel Aviv, best city in the world. Every time we go and I tell Mr. Rosen that I want to move there, he makes excuses for the awesomeness. Like, <i>well today is the sabbath so there's not much traffic.</i> Or <i>this is an unusually cool day for May.</i> I don't buy it. Tel Aviv is rad and that's all there is to it. I lived there in 1998 so I should know. Although we both recalled how I hated it. But I think that's because I had a crappy room in a crappy apartment with crappy roommates and a crappy job and my boyfriend lived in another crappy city...and my crappy bike was stolen...<br />
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But this day was totally non-crappy. First a lovely birthday party for our two-year old friend Liri whose parents we adore (Dad is also a fairly recent transplant from the SF Bay Area so we are grateful to have him in country). And then Mr. Rosen took the big kids to the beach and me and Toothy McSlobberChops met a friend at the <a href="http://freshpaint.co.il/en/">Fresh Paint Contemporary Art Fair</a> in North Tel Aviv. There was a lot of cool stuff to be sure, but yes, there was also a lot of art that, while technically impressive and/or interesting and/or creative, was not especially attractive. Alas, beauty is in the eye of the beholder of thousands of shekels. This art was not cheap. But it was a lot of fun to see what's new and fresh on the Israeli art scene. The place was mobbed and we were kind encumbered with our babies in their strollers, but we maneuvered in and out of rooms and saw quite a bit of the fair. Here's a sampling...<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7226360608/" title="Fresh Paint, Yonatan Levy by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Fresh Paint, Yonatan Levy" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5348/7226360608_9cd3fe8b50_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Yonatan Levy</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7226697716/" title="Fresh Paint, Adi Shalmon by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Fresh Paint, Adi Shalmon" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5200/7226697716_e84c163536_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Adi Shalmon</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7226368364/" title="Fresh Paint, Barak Bendel by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Fresh Paint, Barak Bendel" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5451/7226368364_72707949a2_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Barak Bendel</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7226372540/" title="Fresh Paint, Boaz Noy by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Fresh Paint, Boaz Noy" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7078/7226372540_7c41fa847e_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Boaz Noy</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7226730986/" title="Fresh Paint, Yuri Katz by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Fresh Paint, Yuri Katz" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5040/7226730986_433b8e57aa_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Yuri Katz</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7226656984/" title="Fresh Paint, Hila Laviv by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Fresh Paint, Hila Laviv" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7083/7226656984_3bc962d883_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Hila Laviv</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7226670156/" title="Fresh Paint, Ran Barlev by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Fresh Paint, Ran Barlev" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5272/7226670156_dbe56f74e8_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Ran Barlev</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7226415556/" title="Fresh Paint, Yonatan Ullman by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Fresh Paint, Yonatan Ullman" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7212/7226415556_e850695c5c_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Yonatan Ullman</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7228901940/" title="Fresh Paint, Shlomi Nisim by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Fresh Paint, Shlomi Nisim" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5338/7228901940_6b6271f50c_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Shlomi Nisim</span><br />
<br />Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-49275776566638355752012-05-11T00:17:00.000-07:002012-05-11T09:15:37.450-07:00Jerusalem Tour<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6969291675/" title="Armenian Quarter, Jerusalem by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Armenian Quarter, Jerusalem" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7040/6969291675_f7b9007498_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Window, Armenian Quarter</span><br />
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We had a day off from school yesterday for a holiday called Lag B'Omer which at its best is an occasion to have a bonfire and sing songs and roast hot dogs and marshmallows (at its worst its pyromaniacs and thieves wreaking environmental havoc). It celebrates the 33rd day of the Omer, a period of time between Passover, liberation from Egypt, and Shavuot, receiving of the Torah at Mount Sinai. It's treated as a period of mourning when religious men don't shave and you can't get married etc. Except on the 33rd day, which was yesterday, when you can get married and many people do, including Mr. Rosen's parents (in fact, once we went to three weddings in two days. No joke).<br />
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The 33rd day is the day that Jewish mystics say the Kabballah was revealed (apropos Madonna's upcoming concert in Tel Aviv) and also commemorates the Bar Kokhba revolt against the Roman Empire when a bunch of Jews fought for an independent states which lasted two years until they were eventually crushed. Anyway, we light big fires now to remember how Bar Kokhba and his warriors communicated back in the day and kids also make bows and arrows and homemade pita on the taboon. I wrote about it a few years ago <a href="http://innertoddler.blogspot.com/2010/05/fire-when-ready.html">here</a>.<br />
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So I met up with some friends in Jerusalem for the day and we soaked up the magic. We did our usual walkabout through Jaffa Gate to the Arab market, the Christian quarter, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Western Wall, the Armenia quarter and the Tower of David, stopping for lunch at Lina's, my favorite hole in the wall humus restaurant. It was a beautiful day and the kids were only a little bit bored and cranky. They tried to stage their own Bar Kokhba style revolt but we squashed it with ice-cream, Roman army style and order was restored in the land. It got a little tricky explaining about Jesus and the cross as depicted in the gory mosaic inside the church. That's kind of the stuff of nightmares. But the kids took it in and were soon distracted by stuffed camels and belly dancer costumes. <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7172857420/" title="Ceramics, Armenia Quarter by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Ceramics, Armenia Quarter" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5460/7172857420_4733b63674_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Ceramic dishes at Elie's, the only seller who posts his prices.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7172881044/" title="Church of the Holy Sepulchre by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Church of the Holy Sepulchre" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5320/7172881044_baf16eab8c_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mosaic, Church of the Holy Sepulchre</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6823179410/" title="Christian Quarter, Jerusalem by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Christian Quarter, Jerusalem" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7038/6823179410_df232dfb1e_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Prayer beads, Christian Quarter</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7172851052/" title="Seventh station by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Seventh station" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7238/7172851052_60c4c69bf9_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Seventh Station on the Via Dolorosa</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6969298931/" title="Bedouin textiles, Arab market by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Bedouin textiles, Arab market" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7180/6969298931_3c560a0d54_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Bedouin textiles, Muslim Quarter</span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7175051308/" title="Dome of the Rock by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Dome of the Rock" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7218/7175051308_ce59e5c042_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Dome of the Rock, View from the Jewish Quarter</span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7172827762/" title="Direction of Mecca, 16th century by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Direction of Mecca, 16th century" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7225/7172827762_e104b80bf2_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Incription at the Tower of David pointing to Mecca, 16th century</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7172846208/" title="Western Wall, taken by my son by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Western Wall, taken by my son" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7236/7172846208_cf93a446ea_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Western Wall prayers, taken by my son.</span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7175171808/" title="Ice cream break, Jewish quarter by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Ice cream break, Jewish quarter" height="400" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8165/7175171808_0477df3f1d_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Ice-cream break, troops replenished.</span><br />
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<br />
<br />Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-42157368892591354142012-05-09T12:04:00.002-07:002012-05-09T12:21:56.816-07:00Home<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7166233472/" title="home by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="home" height="532" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5236/7166233472_0e1fd2b21a_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Home is available as a print on <a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/99439963/home-mixed-media-acrylic-print">ETSY</a>.</span><br />
<br />
I don't know if it's because my son weaned himself this week after a nasty cold made it so he couldn't breathe and nurse at the same time. Or because we're nearing our six month milestone in Israel. Or because I'm starting to plan our trip to America in the summer and wondering how on earth we will see everyone we want to see and what it will feel like to be there. Or maybe because I keep fast forwarding ten years and my oldest is entering the army. All of it together has me feeling a little vulnerable. I keep coming back to the idea of home. Where is it? <i>What</i> is home? What will it be for my kids. Is it worth fighting for? Is it worth dying for? Or is it just a place, like any other.<br />
<br />
Mr. Rosen and I have spent a lot of time thinking about where we want to make our home and whether or not there is a perfect place for us and our family. We don't have the answer yet but we're getting closer. We might be over thinking it. It might be exactly where we are now. It might not be a place at all, but a connection we have to each other, tethering us to the present.Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-72777184522440901662012-05-07T03:36:00.000-07:002012-05-07T03:37:17.682-07:00Song of Solomon<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6999088458/" title="Art Appreciation 101 by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Art Appreciation 101" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7276/6999088458_9d5ba23a86_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
Behold, the winter is past,<br />
the rain is over and gone;<br />
The flowers appear on the earth;<br />
the time of singing is come,<br />
and the voice of the turtle dove<br />
is heard throughout the land.
<br />
<br />
Song of Solomon 2:11-12<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">ps. the painting to the left of Crawly McHands Off is available now as a print on <a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/99206696/bloom-mixed-media-print">ETSY</a>. </span>Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-50749155880709247622012-05-05T23:04:00.001-07:002012-05-07T02:52:31.100-07:00Ducks in a pile<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7149548553/" title="Untitled by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Untitled" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7209/7149548553_4bd872e530_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
Do you ever decide you're going to get started on something - a project, an assignment, a new endeavor, a trip, a remodel, your life - but only when everything is aligned in your favor? When your ducks are in a row? This is my tendency. I wait until there's some kind of magic moment. Or, more accurately, I wait till I have enough time to myself to really focus and get down to business. It turns out I never have that kind of time. Even before the baby, when the big kids were in school and I had four hours every morning to work, it was really more like three hours after drop off and pick up. And more like two after I showered, did the laundry, went to the grocery store, picked up a birthday present or went to the post office. So by the time I got down to business I had maybe an hour and a half of unfettered time which I would decide was not enough and I would daydream instead. Or tinker. Or at my most productive I would print out and package some orders. But I would never paint. Painting required my undivided attention, partly because watercolor dries so fast that once you start, you sort of need to get to a good ending point, otherwise you have blotchy. (psst. Did you see how I just rationalized not painting, even as I write this short essay ostensibly about how to get over all that and move forward?)<br />
<br />
So, true to character, I decided once things didn't work out with my babysitter and I was again a full-time companion to Sweet Cheeks McTiny Tush, I put my painting aspirations aside. Again. Babies are such a good excuse for so many things! Tardiness, flightiness, forgetfulness, looking tired and unkempt, being chubby, whipping out your boobs in public...and, yes, procrastination. And I figured I would wait until September when my baby will start going to a family daycare and I finally have the time I need to focus on my work. <br />
<br />
But then a number of things happened. First I reached out to a <a href="http://www.pixiecampbell.com/">friend</a> asking how she managed to be such a prolific painter while her babies were little and she said she is all over the place. But she threw out the question, can you do your work in layers, like 15 minute increments? <i>It's not really how I work. I need time. I need space. Because I hate taking out supplies and then putting them all back which is what you have to do when you work at the kitchen table. </i><br />
<br />
Layers. 15 minute increments.<br />
<br />
Then I went to <a href="http://www.florasbowley.com/">this woman's</a> website, having heard rave reviews about her workshops, and nearly fell over and died when I saw her work. It is so beautiful, it sings. It made me cry! And not because I wished I was her, which is where I usually go in these moments, but because I could see her joy spilled out in her work. That's when I got out the acrylics and some old canvases I had painted 10 years ago and, starting with the "grounds" technique I had learned at a workshop last year with <a href="http://www.jessereno.com/">Jesse Reno</a>, I just put on paint and more paint while the baby napped. And for fifteen minute increments while he played. And at night if I wasn't too tired. And I let the layers dry, because that's what you kind of have to do with acrylic before you can add another layer. I moved my box of supplies to the shelves next to the kitchen table and the oil cloth is now there semi-permanently. I'm just getting used to the acrylics and how they work and what I can do so there is much to learn, but I'm doing it.<br />
<br />
So there it is. My ducks are in a pile, all squawky and flappy and cattywampus and I am happily painting almost every day.Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-73399796913917239592012-05-02T00:45:00.001-07:002012-05-05T23:06:29.276-07:00So long McMiserable, hello McFerrin<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6988593398/" title="Hangar 13 by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Hangar 13" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7273/6988593398_ff1eaf3966_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Hangar 13, Port of Tel Aviv</span><br />
<br />
Twenty years ago I saw a rising Israeli singer named Achinoam Nini play at the Berkeley Hillel for $5. Soon after that she sang Ave Maria for the Pope and launched herself into international stardom. Last night Mr. Rosen and I left McMiserable and the other two in the capable hands of Mr. Rosen Senior to see Achinoam Nini play with Bobby McFerrin and a few other Israeli artists at the Port of Tel Aviv. Hangar 11 to be exact (my picture of hangar 11 is not as nice as this pretty one of hangar 13 at dusk). We almost didn't go when the baby spiked a 103 fever an hour before our estimated departure. But I looked into his watery eyes and said, <i>listen baby. Don't worry. Be happy.</i> Or maybe I said that to myself. Or maybe Mr. Rosen Senior said that to me. Either way, we bid our threesome farewell and headed off to the big city.<br />
<br />
I think I've mentioned that we kind of live in the sticks out here in the Judean Hills. Sounds pretty rustic and biblical, which it kind of is. But an hour away is an oasis of culture, style and traffic. The Port of Tel Aviv was completely overhauled starting about ten years ago. Not quite sure when they finished but it's basically a long boardwalk on the Mediterranean and a series of hangars filled with shops, cafes, restaurants, and concert venues big and small. We don't get out much, for the obvious reason that we have three small kids and fall asleep in our clothes at 9:00 every night, so this felt like a real treat. Plus it's always fun to watch city folk being their stylishly awesome selves. And my hair volumized to twice it's normal girth with all the humidity.<br />
<br />
And the concert was amazing. Bobby McFerrin is pretty spectacular and Achinoam Nini was equal parts adorable in her admiration of this musical legend and astounding in her own vocal virtuosity. They could definitely be a superhero duo together. <i>Form of an iceberg!</i><br />
<br />
We ended the evening with a delicious pastrami sandwich, fried spicy potatoes and apricot soda at Delicious Deli Bar (that's calling a spade a spade in my book) in the hangar across the street and then headed home happy and full in every sense. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7134693113/" title="Bobby McFerrin concert with Achinoam Nini, port of Tel Aviv by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Bobby McFerrin concert with Achinoam Nini, port of Tel Aviv" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7202/7134693113_74c1e3e665_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The part where he invited people to come dance on stage. </span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6988599732/" title="Spain week at the port market in Tel Aviv. Me gusta mucho. by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Spain week at the port market in Tel Aviv. Me gusta mucho." height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7134/6988599732_3d149e6b50_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">I might have to head back today for Spain Week at the Port Market which looks like it will feature a lot of meat. Me gusta.</span><br />
<br />Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-23150290180848567492012-05-01T08:35:00.003-07:002012-05-05T23:05:56.132-07:00In bloom<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7131390855/" title="Bloom by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Bloom" height="400" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8006/7131390855_073a579e2d_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
I unpacked the acrylics the other day and while Hot Cheeks McSnotface slept, I had some time to paint. I've become obsessed with weeds since Spring arrived and let me tell you there are some wild zingers over here. As beautiful as they are prickly. Not unlike Israeli women.*<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">* this does not apply to all of my exceptionally wonderful Israeli women friends.</span>Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-44274059688605443122012-04-29T23:48:00.001-07:002012-04-30T10:52:01.607-07:00When your sixty-four<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6969182694/" title="Israel Independence Day by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Israel Independence Day" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5115/6969182694_e291b90f93_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Flags for Independence Day</span><br />
<br />
We got back yesterday from a long weekend in northern Israel. It was Memorial Day on Thursday and Independence Day on Friday so Mr. Rosen and the kids had a few days off. Memorial Day here is very different than it is in America. There are no door-buster sales, for one. Nor does it mark the season for wearing white pants. It's kind of a serious day. None of the cable television stations broadcast and network TV is all either interviews with high up veterans or patriotic performances. There's even a nationwide moment of silence for two minutes in the morning. An air-raid siren goes off and everyone stops what they're doing. Even cars stop in the middle of traffic (though that's an everyday occurrence also). And then at sundown, the Independence Day fireworks begin and the country is happy once more. <br />
<br />
Anyway, we headed up north and spent a few days based in Tiberius exploring the upper Galil and Golan Heights. We hiked up to the top of the Arbel, a beautiful cliff above the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee). We had lunch in a banana grove above a cave with open tombs and bats (for real!). We found a great little restaurant at Yehudia junction that's open 24 hours, 365 days a year, even Yom Kipur and serves a tasty roast beef sandwich. We hiked up a stream to a very old water milling station and the kids got soaked. We visited a friend of the family and spent the day swimming at her community pool. The next day we drove home along the eastern border with Jordan and watched the green fields of the North fade to the crispy tan of arid land. We made one final stop for lunch in Abu Ghosh, an Arab town outside of Jerusalem, and enjoyed some grilled chicken skewers and middle eastern salads.<br />
<br />
To be honest, when we got home I was wrecked. For the obvious reasons - kids fighting in the car, baby up at 5:00 am, packing and unpacking and daypacking and repacking. But also I think my brain is just completely saturated. It's so much to absorb! And more than just the sites. It's the constant juxtaposition of old and new. Glittery and gritty. Orchards and desert. New construction and demolition. Poverty and wealth. Sea and sand. It's one minute we're mourning and then next we're celebrating. It's our own brand of extremism and it's exhausting.<br />
<br />
But never mind all that. Happy 64th birthday Israel, you crazy spring chicken. I hope I'm as feisty as you are when I'm your age. Something tells me you won't be retiring next year...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6969180390/" title="Memorial Day, Israel by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Memorial Day, Israel" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7139/6969180390_2b5e304e21_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Memorial Day wreaths</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7115266813/" title="The Arbel by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="The Arbel" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7207/7115266813_3f880ffee8_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> View of Lower Galilee from the Arbel</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6969190656/" title="Banana blossom by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Banana blossom" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7228/6969190656_0c84ab740c_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Banana blossom</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7116442851/" title="Secret cave under banana grove with tombs and bats. by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Secret cave under banana grove with tombs and bats." height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7050/7116442851_b046300030_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Secret cave under banana grove with tombs and bats</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7124543003/" title="Hike in the Golan by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Hike in the Golan" height="400" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8141/7124543003_965332f6f7_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Water mill hike in the Golan</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6978465492/" title="Pretty weeds by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Pretty weeds" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7123/6978465492_a2511e0c22_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Pretty weeds in the Golan</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6974829558/" title="Garden gnomes near the dead sea by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Garden gnomes near the dead sea" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7229/6974829558_9b05ed12ce_z.jpg" width="400" /></a>
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Garden gnomes near the Dead Sea</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6974829582/" title="Camel by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Camel" height="400" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8015/6974829582_33f802dd06_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Camel in finery</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6975757372/" title="Abu Ghosh by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Abu Ghosh" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7250/6975757372_1a6ec446d8_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Graffiti in Abu Ghosh</span>Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-10394575591166710872012-04-22T12:42:00.000-07:002012-04-23T23:27:47.798-07:00The kindness of strangers<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7103315965/" title="Gefilte fish year round by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Gefilte fish year round" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7048/7103315965_ff4ede77a6_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The Gefilte Fish aisle at Rami Levy's</span><br />
<br />
The other day I took the baby to a supermarket in a neighboring town. We'd never been there before. In fact, we'd been there the day before, with all three kids, and my daughter remembered as we were about to park that she wanted to go home and put on her tap shoes. She could not go on. Plus, even if she had agreed to go into the supermarket, her recent string of unpredictable lash outs make her a wild card in public places. I opted to cut my losses and head home.<br />
<br />
So late morning the next day I take Stringbean McToothy Face to the very same supermarket, cautiously optimistic that we can get in and get out without too much disaster. You see, this is no ordinary supermarket. This is a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rami_Levy_Hashikma_Marketing">Rami Levy supermarket</a> in an ultra-religious city in the West Bank. But I am dressed modestly (though wearing pants which is frowned upon) and it is Wednesday (as opposed to Thursday which I know means a mad rush for sabbath prep). Turns out Wednesday is also a mad rush and I should have just turned around when I saw the parking lot. But then I'd have to admit defeat twice in two days which I just couldn't swallow. So I park and we charge ahead, the baby as my shield.<br />
<br />
The allure of Rami Levy is that it's cheap. I'd say 30% cheaper than other supermarket chains, especially the one in our town, Mister Zol, which means Mr. Cheap. In fact it's Mr. Expensive, even more expensive than "Half Free Warehouse" in Beit Shemesh which should be called "Twice as Much Warehouse". <i>Who comes up with these names? </i><br />
<br />
We hustle our way through a sea of black hats and modestly dressed religious men and women and after a little less than an hour we are ready to check out. This is when I start to sweat. There are lines three and four people deep at every check-out and these folks are not here to pick up a carton of milk and a loaf of bread. These carts are meant to feed a family of ten for a week so they are spilling over into the aisles. That's when my copilot decides he'd had enough. Now I am caught with a screaming baby in a half hour check out line with a full cart of food. I am just about to abandon my groceries when a lovely Yemenite looking guy in front of me with a knitted kippah asks if I could use some help. He suggests I take the baby to my car and feed him and he would watch my cart and call me when it was time to come back. So without thinking twice we exchange phone numbers and I leave my cart including my diaper bag and my wallet, grab my keys and take Starving McChompers to the car for some lunch.<br />
<br />
Twenty minutes later I come back and my friend is nearly finished checking out. Perfect timing. I strap the baby back on, thank him profusely and load up my groceries. Seeing that I am encumbered with a giant baby on my chest, the checker (religious Jew of Middle Eastern descent) calls over a bagger (likely Muslim Arab) to help me get on my way. They exchange a few friendly words in Arabic and have a few laughs (they're probably laughing at me come to think of it) and I'm left to wonder why it is again that we all hate each other? I mean if the Yemenite religious Zionist Jew can help out the American Ashkenazi Progressive New Immigrant Jew while the religious Moroccan Jew makes jokes with the Palestinian, then can't we just all be friends?*<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">* I realize just the fact that Arabs don't shop here though they work here points to a wider, more systemic segregation issue. But I can't ignore these brief, friendly interactions. They're happening all around me. Everyday. </span>Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-14992159196840615662012-04-20T03:17:00.002-07:002012-04-22T12:46:20.947-07:00This year in Jerusalem<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7041806883/" title="Staples of Passover by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Staples of Passover" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7259/7041806883_eee6a3927b_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Religious Jews hoarding Passover staples</span><br />
<br />
Psst. I'm still alive over here. We are coming off a nearly three week Passover school holiday break and I have been remiss about posting blog entries. I have however been posting lots of pics on <a href="http://instagr.am/p/Jmq2XnA7Kv/?fb_action_ids=10150819596787174&fb_action_types=instapp%3Atake&fb_ref=ogexp&fb_source=timeline_story">Instagram</a> and I invite you to follow my meanderings over there. I'll follow you right back. It's quite fun! A billion dollars worth of fun, so says Facebook. <br />
<br />
I wasn't prepared for such a long break in the middle of the year. But we threw together a pretty fun itinerary packed with visits with friends, travels north, south, east and west, a trip to some enchanted caves, a fantastic seder, a surprise and mysterious visit from Elijah the Prophet and camping in the desert. We even had lunch one day with Mr. Rosen at his work in Jerusalem.<br />
<br />
I will say that spending Passover in Israel is a very rich experience. Between the meticulous nation-wide spring cleaning (removal of all bread and crumbs from the home), hoarding of eggs, potatoes, onions and matzah, and the throngs of Israelis hiking about the country, it's really a lot to absorb. Never mind that we personally experienced no less than five out of the ten plagues (<a href="http://innertoddler.blogspot.com/2012/02/out-for-blood.html">blood</a>, lice, <a href="http://innertoddler.blogspot.com/2012/01/when-life-gives-you-lemons.html">boils</a>, hail, and darkness). Let's just say it's enough blog material to last forty years wandering in the desert, if only I'd had the energy to write it all down. <i>Dayenu</i>. Maybe I'll be more on the (matzah) ball next year.<br />
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For now's here's a smattering of pics from those three weeks. Enjoy!<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7026545845/" title="Dead Sea with view of Jordan by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Dead Sea with view of Jordan" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7207/7026545845_4c831d47b5_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Dead sea and view of Jordan</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6949689938/" title="IMG_2720 by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_2720" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5441/6949689938_3dd499300c_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Saba grating the bitter herb with traditional protective eyewear.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6949691952/" title="IMG_2725 by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_2725" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5451/6949691952_47300221cc_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Seder table including rice cake "matzah" cover for our glutton free guests</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7053449397/" title="Saba carrying his weight by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Saba carrying his weight" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7050/7053449397_e809bfefaa_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Elder carrying small Israelite during the exodus.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7053445727/" title="Passover hike in the Negev by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Passover hike in the Negev" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5194/7053445727_2d455c1ebc_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Obeying the voice of God, Moses and Miriam put their arms around each other.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6907351912/" title="Camel helping us reenact the exodus by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Camel helping us reenact the exodus" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7184/6907351912_ed1b6d94de_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Biblical ride</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6914767094/" title="Stalactite/mite awesome by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Stalactite/mite awesome" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7065/6914767094_276b7d31bd_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Enchanted stalactite cave</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7095771295/" title="DSC_0842 by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="DSC_0842" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7218/7095771295_c180a7ffa8_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Not <a href="http://innertoddler.blogspot.com/2011/08/bear-proof-vehicle.html">bear proof,</a> but hyena proof.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7071364141/" title="I found an oompa loompa from the tv room up on this ridge! Doopadee do! by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="I found an oompa loompa from the tv room up on this ridge! Doopadee do!" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7040/7071364141_8be6d7d918_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The oompa loompa I found on top of Tzin Wilderness</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6927083972/" title="Descent to Nahal Gov by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Descent to Nahal Gov" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5271/6927083972_2c18e07577_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Descent to Gov River Valley</span> <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7074167565/" title="Escaping the burning sun by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Escaping the burning sun" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7089/7074167565_2e98444aa4_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Respite from heat.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6933806062/" title="Untitled by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Untitled" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5456/6933806062_485b343134_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Desert in bloom</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6949703316/" title="DSC_0903 by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="DSC_0903" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5234/6949703316_e4763aa842_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">At Kibbutz Sde Boker</span>Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-25385539674529850972012-04-02T13:45:00.000-07:002012-04-02T13:45:25.025-07:00The New Normal<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6893725780/" title="Five sparkly new gas masks by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Five sparkly new gas masks" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7061/6893725780_a86043958f_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Five shiny new gas masks hanging off my stroller.</span><br />
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Some nights I'll be sitting on our couch watching reruns of Seinfeld and eating a bowl of Fruity Pebbles and it feels like I'm back in California. We live in a nice house. I drive a Mazda 5. My kids have playdates. Organic free range eggs are a fortune. It's all the same as it was. And then I remember that my daughter goes to ballet lessons in a bomb shelter. Someone checks my bag whenever I enter a large building, like the mall. My kids have lice. My housekeeper is a Jewish man. I buy my fruits and vegetables in the West Bank. My seven year old has a cell phone. And I pay $8 a gallon for gas.<br />
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Not normal.<br />
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Last week I met a friend and her three kids in Ramle, a town outside of Tel Aviv known for its poverty and excellent kabob restaurants, to exchange our old gas masks for new ones. It was the first day of Passover vacation so I packed all the kids in the car and we drove to an elementary school downtown where a squadron of adorable soldiers took my two outdated masks and issued five shiny new ones. Everyone was friendly and professional and efficient. Someone from the BBC even interviewed me. When asked how I felt as a newcomer getting gas masks for my children, I was honest. I told the guy I had no intention of using these things. They will go into a closet until the next recall, a decade from now. And then we hustled our six kids back into our cars, drove to a nearby playground, worked up an appetite and then drove downtown to <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com.au/ShowUserReviews-g1600274-d2223331-r126220616-Halil-Ramla.html">Halil</a> where we snarfed down two plates of kabobs, a plate of fries, hummus, pita, pickles and <a href="http://www.israelikitchen.com/tag/malabi/">malabi</a> for dessert. Mmmmmm.<br />
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And so it goes. I shift back and forth between there and here, feeling used to it all and feeling shocked by it all, letting go of what I knew as normal and embracing what is now the new normal.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7039826615/" title="Gas mask lesson by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Gas mask lesson" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7272/7039826615_e8b9cceea4_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Gas mask tutorial</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7039830773/" title="Playground in Ramle by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Playground in Ramle" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7238/7039830773_7012b9be05_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Playground in Ramle</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/7039835333/" title="Parking lot near Halil restaurant, Ramle by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Parking lot near Halil restaurant, Ramle" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7099/7039835333_381ab255f3_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">My daughter stepped out into this parking lot and asked, <i>are we in India?</i></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6893746772/" title="Swinging by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Swinging" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7039/6893746772_796b86f28b_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Cutest ten month old ever</span>Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-70956289429307605442012-03-16T12:51:00.000-07:002012-03-16T12:51:44.522-07:00A day in Tel Aviv<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6966817933/" title="Fabric store, Tel Aviv by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Fabric store, Tel Aviv" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7197/6966817933_7bc269eb31_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Fabric store on Nachalat Binyamin, Tel Aviv</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><br />
Grandma flew home early Wednesday morning and the family is in a funk. Even with the rain and snow and leaky guest room we managed to have a pretty great time. I'll try to get some pics up from our travels over the next few days. I don't know if it's because I'm new here but I just find I can't get enough of the view. The gritty cities. The rugged hills. The markets. The cafes. The graffiti. The museums. The shops. (The museum shops). I just find it all overwhelmingly inspiring. On Tuesday last week my mother-in-law babysat for the kids in the afternoon allowing us to spend the whole day in Tel Aviv (with the baby). We started out at Nachalat Binyamin, an open-air craft market downtown. Then we had lunch at HaMitbachon (the little kitchen) which specializes in home-cooking. We had the beef cous cous and eggplant spread on fresh baked bread. Yum. Then we walked a few blocks to a particularly charming neighborhood called Neve Tzedek, one of the first neighborhoods in Tel Aviv which is currently enjoying a renaissance. Boutiques, cafes and restaurants o'plenty. And the buildings, home to the rich and famous of Israel in many cases, have all been beautifully rennovated. And since it was the day before Purim, many locals were out in their scary/silly/skanky best. Here are a few of my favorite corners. I'll be back soon with some shots of Jerusalem too.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6966837025/" title="Tel Aviv by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Tel Aviv" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7050/6966837025_b38ddbc1db_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Purim party posters</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6966829841/" title="Paper mâché bowls, Tel Aviv by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Paper mâché bowls, Tel Aviv" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7195/6966829841_539b9d3c75_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Merav Danny, Nachalat Binyamin</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6968771641/" title="Pottery, Nachalat Binyamin by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Pottery, Nachalat Binyamin" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7064/6968771641_889503f7e0_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Daniela Dori, Nachalat Binyamin</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6822647174/" title="Painting by ossha, Tel Aviv by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Painting by ossha, Tel Aviv" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7060/6822647174_7ae28705b2_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.ossha.co.il/eng/index.php">Osnat Shavit</a>, Nachalat Binyamin</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6820705744/" title="Ribbon store, Tel Aviv by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Ribbon store, Tel Aviv" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7192/6820705744_c275327138_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Ribbon store, Tel Aviv</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6985391377/" title="Hamsas by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Hamsas" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7038/6985391377_56a73bfcdd_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Hamsas, Neve Tzedek</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6839277914/" title="Ginger, Neve Tzedek by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Ginger, Neve Tzedek" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7176/6839277914_7b9d01a827_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.gingerhome.co.il/">Ginger</a>, Neve Tzedek</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6839281582/" title="Tel Aviv grit by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Tel Aviv grit" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7182/6839281582_890a4446c5_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Gritty corner of Tel Aviv</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6985393287/" title="Ayala Bar by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Ayala Bar" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7186/6985393287_38a99d2c11_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.ayalabar.com/V4/site/main.html">Ayala Bar Shop</a>, Neve Tzedek</span>Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-8161239543719226102012-03-09T13:20:00.001-08:002012-03-09T13:49:29.948-08:00Purim in Israel<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6816442416/" title="Purim in Tel Aviv by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Purim in Tel Aviv" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7179/6816442416_86970b0c3c_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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My mom and I have been busy touring about the country and spending time with the kids. We survived the week of rain and snow and now we're thawing out to temperatures in the seventies. Feels good to get some vitamin D. The kids have been on vacation the last few days for Purim, our drunken version of April Fools. It's just a one day holiday celebrating the Jewish victory over the Persians circa 400 b.c.e but I feel like it's been going on for months. It started with pajama day last Friday at school and then make-up day and then dress up like a street sign day and then wear your costume to school day and then three days off of school, only one of which is the actual holiday. We have plenty of eight day holidays, what with Hanukkah and Passover and Sukkot. How about keeping the one day holidays to one day and give all the parents a break. Between the costumes and making the kids' mishloah manot (goodie packages to swap with friends at school) and baking hamentaschen, and the parades and the carnivals, I am wiped out. Because I am the Purim Bitch. That's me in the sign. Just kidding. That's a sign for some rave in Tel Aviv where incredibly stylish people with no kids party all night. No, I was not in attendance.<br />
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I will say that I have rather enjoyed seeing everyone dressed up over these last few days. I saw a little religious boy from one sect of Orthodoxy dressed as a grown man from another sect. Pretty funny. Today, in Ein Kerem, coming out of the Church of John the Baptist, I saw a young man dressed as Jesus, cross and all. He was the spitting image. He said he'd been growing his hair for two years for this costume. People go balls out for Purim. The scouts troupe in our town built a carnival that was unbelievable including actual rides they made out of wood and rope. Two-story rides built from scratch! Only in Israel. In America you'd have to sign a waiver to let your kids ride on one of these things. But the kids had a great time and no one died.<br />
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And now I shall hang up my pirate costume until next year. Ahoy.Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-90422527531359196832012-03-01T12:23:00.004-08:002012-03-01T13:04:31.583-08:00Homies<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMy45MQXZ3eqGa_fRlt0dmkpvSFM9FIlBamk4UG434RYvz8OvrsC_oDstUxrGKVK8Y1e4uVrUEC1nGot4C60mZEnOQTuT_SW1QqHepcnFAM7xYSBrutAgxMqjAoTGcgbpxCLUnQHjUDvL/s1600/homies.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTMy45MQXZ3eqGa_fRlt0dmkpvSFM9FIlBamk4UG434RYvz8OvrsC_oDstUxrGKVK8Y1e4uVrUEC1nGot4C60mZEnOQTuT_SW1QqHepcnFAM7xYSBrutAgxMqjAoTGcgbpxCLUnQHjUDvL/s320/homies.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">A few cozy homies at a ceramics co-op on Yoel Salomon Street, Jerusalem</span><br />
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It has been a festive few weeks with visitors and celebrations. Right now we're especially delirious to have GRANDMA visiting all the way from California during what is possibly the rainiest week ever in the history of Israel dating back to the time of King Herrod. Sorry Grandma. But we managed to get in a few jaunts to favorite nearby cafes, ceramic co-ops and jewelry shops before the real deluge began. Grandma is here for another two weeks so my presence here will be sporadic, not to be confused with the presence of spores in our bathroom from all of the rain. Nice. Love rentals.<br />
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But before I go I have a favor to ask. My old friend and Inner Toddler enthusiast Mona has nominated me in the <a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/best-family-blog-nominations-the-homies-2012-166617">Best Family Blog category of the Homies</a> on <a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/">Apartment Therapy</a>. I love Apartment Therapy and would love a Homie to go next to my Tony and my Oscar. Here's the catch: voting ends March 2 EST (Ack! That's tomorrow!) and you have to sign in to vote. Bummer. But don't let that discourage you! It only takes a minute. Maybe less. Okay homies? Tell everyone you know! Let's start a revolution!Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-79505952798253013062012-02-15T00:37:00.000-08:002012-02-15T00:37:19.337-08:00Five<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6879698713/" title="Love by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Love" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7044/6879698713_bbf5fa173f_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<br />
Dear Sugar Bee,<br />
<br />
You're five today and I can hardly believe I just typed that. What a year it has been for you, for all of us. We started off on the wrong foot with pneumonia and you are still talking about the shot of antibiotics you got in your butt. You might never forget that one. And then you got a baby brother. And then you went on a month long road trip. And then you moved to a new house. And then to a new country! Talk about resilience and an almost heroic flexibility. It hasn't always been easy. And you've had some rough spells. But you have an understanding of yourself that frankly startles me sometimes. You get upset; we all do. And then you remove yourself, set up your dolls and clear your head. That's your process. And soon you are back to your shining spunky self. And then you like to talk about what all just happened. How you were mad and crazy, how you calmed down and got back in control. How we can talk about it after and still love each other. I appreciate processing these outbursts together. I hope we can always communicate like that. <br />
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Probably the biggest event for you this year, even bigger than moving to Israel, was becoming a big sister. Even though I know you'd prefer to still be the baby, as you have made clear in words and actions, you are a fantastic big sister. And that little boy is bonzo about you. Everything you do makes him giggle and you know it. He gets flooded with joy when he sees you. I admit, I feel that way too sometimes. What a lucky boy he is to have a sister as animated and intuitive as you. And as much as you and your older brother make each other nuts, I know there is a closeness between you too. Not every brother would take the time to pick out his sister's birthday outfit for preschool. Thankfully he can put together an outfit.<br />
<br />
Your Aba continues to think the sun shines from your tush. He's right. You are a lovely, lovely girl and we are so lucky to have you as our daughter. Watching you grow has been one of the universe's greatest gifts to me. <br />
<br />
many many kisses,<br />
MommySusie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-8000279755835675082012-02-09T12:32:00.000-08:002012-02-09T12:32:48.047-08:00Animal stack<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUphwxgngWHZ_IQKldEQ0sRc6_vKB79gqBfThtBlfWEb_4t99az46qK5K1a4UuZDOOgVCZ_gykMUhWhU-hdFq5U4x9q0lqCZBMCf6VarSi0CWLg6pT45yHXjWCIUz2mLWdvGd_IU3lSrfo/s1600/AnimalStack.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUphwxgngWHZ_IQKldEQ0sRc6_vKB79gqBfThtBlfWEb_4t99az46qK5K1a4UuZDOOgVCZ_gykMUhWhU-hdFq5U4x9q0lqCZBMCf6VarSi0CWLg6pT45yHXjWCIUz2mLWdvGd_IU3lSrfo/s640/AnimalStack.jpg" width="353" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">They were all waiting to see if Yertle would show up. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The suspense was killing them.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We have a bin full of plastic animals that my son used to play with but instead of having them roar at each other and flying them around the house making monkey noises like most kids, he used to try to stack them like blocks. Except they don't exactly stack. He'd have to balance each one on top of the other very carefully. He figured out that he always had to start with the lion and then the hippo and then it was enough support to hold the cow, a kangaroo and sometimes the lamb on top. It was pretty incredible to watch.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">These animals were inspired by our recent trip to the Jerusalem Zoo. It threatened to be a rainy and disgusting day so no one was there. Just us. Really. Maybe one other family. In the whole friggin zoo. The guy at the front let us in for half price explaining that half the animals would be inside because of the rain. In fact, it didn't rain. It was a gorgeous day. Most of the animals were out. And some of them were even stacked. OK, only the mosaic sculpture ones in the children's petting area. But pretty impressive nonetheless. </div><br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6794908417/" title="Jerusalem Zoo by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Jerusalem Zoo" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7016/6794908417_23d927f4e6_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6794908583/" title="Jerusalem Zoo by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Jerusalem Zoo" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7161/6794908583_1202bb7e84_z.jpg" width="400" /></a>Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-54643074194290650982012-02-06T01:36:00.000-08:002012-02-06T11:18:41.722-08:00There will be blood<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6828655795/" title="Untitled by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7010/6828655795_a4a30b4ab0_z.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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Sometimes I just can't stop from turning into Mommy Hyde. Does this ever happen to you? You know you're going down the wrong parenting path, that what you're doing is sure to cause a major power struggle, that you will unintentionally cause a public scene, that your kids will likely get over it fifteen minutes later but that you will hold the whole horrible thing in your chest for the rest of the day, maybe the rest of the week or even your whole life. But it's like when you're tripping and you know you're tripping because it's almost happening in slow motion, such that there may even be a chance to save yourself from imminent danger and certain embarrassment, but you can't because of all the gravity. Damn you Sir Isaac Newton!<br />
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Well such was the case today on our way to school. I was planning to drop off my oldest, then my girl, then bring the baby to the sitter. So it goes with Mondays in general. For whatever reason my oldest, who is now seven and a half and getting very close to having a rational brain, gets hysterical about having to sit in his sister's booster near the door instead of his own backless booster in the middle. Meanwhile he always sits in her seat without issue when I intend to drop him off because it's easier and quicker for him to get out. And it's not even the chair she threw up in a month ago. It's a different one. It doesn't smell. There's nothing wrong with it. In fact, it used to be <i>his</i> chair. But he throws a fit and won't sit down and I tell him I'm not driving until he is seated properly and that we will be late. He continues to refuse and this is where I take a wrong turn. <br />
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I tell him I am cancelling his playdate. <i>Why Susie? Why would you engage him like this, you amateur! </i><br />
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That just sends him limbic. I can almost see him turning into a crocodile. He finally sits down but instead of apologizing and pleading in a nice voice to have his friend over, he starts shrieking about it. So instead of just following through with my <strike>inappropriate</strike> consequence and taking him to school, I turn toward the clinic in town because we've been sitting on a referral for a blood test for him for a week (stomach pains, want to rule out Celiac) so I figure as long as we're late and the lab is only open from 8-8:30 in the morning and I have a little leverage with the play date, he should do the test. Now I'm limbic too and making all kinds of horrible decisions and he's terrified and starting to twitch and I'm starting to twitch but also grin a little because I am evil. <br />
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I spend the next ten minutes telling him that he can have his playdate but he has to do this blood test. The power struggle is on. Everything is on the table. The blood test, the playdate, a chance to sit in the front seat (we're one block from school), some kind of chocolate treat after the blood test, boarding school in Uzbekistan, everything. It's all game. <br />
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He pulls it together enough to walk in the clinic quietly though he is still snorting and drooling and we go upstairs to the lab. When it is finally our turn he can't stop sobbing enough for the nurse to get the needle in so we have to leave and I fear we will have to repeat the whole exercise tomorrow. On our way out he decides he can do it so we go back and I hold down his arm and try to distract him. My attempts are in vain. Fortunately the nurses attempts are also in vein and she gets the sample. My poor boy is shaking uncontrollably. This apparently <i>did</i> hurt, way more than any inoculation or flu shot. I had lied to him. I tried to explain how fear can cause us to perceive more pain than actually exists empirically. He is not listening. I'm an idiot.<br />
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He sits in the front seat and we drop off my daughter. She is glad to be rid of us. I take him into school and his teacher tells him he was a brave hero and generally blows smoke up his ass. Thank god for her. The other kids are happy to see him and he shows everyone his bandage. His friend asks if he can still come over and I almost throw my arms around him to say YES YOUNG MAN. YOU ARE THE PRIZE. NEVER FORGET THAT. I use the filter instead, nod enthusiastically to the friend, hug my son and leave the building. <br />
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After I drop off the baby I go to the supermarket and stock up on ice-cream, candy and cookies. That's how I plan to make it known to all in my family that I am an ass and that I apologize. All will be forgiven. Life goes on. I will review the <a href="http://www.taketimefortraining.com/">Positive Discipline</a> parenting aid I have on my iPhone and hope for a better outcome next time. The end.Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-379422456024989662012-01-29T23:28:00.000-08:002012-01-30T12:00:04.344-08:00Pay it forward<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6789992321/" title="Fruitful by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7013/6789992321_087b2f261b_z.jpg" width="400" height="488" alt="Fruitful"></a><br />
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In these last few weeks I have been especially enamored by the view over here - miles of terraced olive groves with their short stone retaining walls and the picturesque hillside villages they surround. But views here are often colored by the conflict. I try not to think about it too much.<br />
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Next week is Tu B'Shvat, a minor Jewish holiday to celebrate the trees and we've been gearing up by eating a lot of dried fruit and reading the Lorax. This new painting, called Fruitful, was inspired by a little passage from the Talmud (that has made its way into the Jewish summer camp storytelling canon. I don't actually read the Talmud regularly. Or ever, come to think of it). Has me thinking about the kind of legacy I want to leave for my own kids. Heavy stuff. <br />
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<i>Once, while the sage, Honi, was walking along a road, he saw an old man planting a carob tree. Honi asked him: “How many years will it take for this tree to give forth its fruit?” The man answered that it would require 70 years. Honi asked: “Are you so healthy a man that you expect to live that length of time and eat its fruit?” The man answered: “I found a fruitful world because my ancestors planted it for me. So, too, will I plant for my children.” </i> (Babylonian Talmud, Ta’anit 23a)<br />
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Available <a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/91708740/fruitful-watercolor-print-and-verse">here</a>.Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218536223775349882.post-92181475124439625942012-01-25T01:58:00.000-08:002012-01-25T11:23:28.426-08:00When life gives you lemons<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mishmishstudio/6741368807/" title="Octalemon by Mishmish Studio by Susie Lubell, on Flickr"><img alt="Octalemon" height="400" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7005/6741368807_4e270c0227.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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When the lemons look like this one, then you best run for the hills because no one should be drinking lemonade from this many-tentacled citrus freakshow. It seems that whatever has turned our zesty friend into the OCTALEMON may be in the water or the vents or somewhere lurking in our quirky home. This has been the winter to beat all and we are down for the count. Uncle. There I said it. We are beat. You win, evil Octalemon.<br />
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Since we arrived in November it's been one illness after another. First the boys both had mystery fever with rash and the older one had vomitting. Then the girl had the vomitting. And the older boy had more vomiting. Then the baby had a nasty cough with walrus snot and eye goop. Then I had strep. Now I have a sinus infection and the baby's coughing again. And Mr. Rosen has impetigo. Yes, impetigo, the childhood disease. He's the only adult ever in the history of the world who managed to catch impetigo. Coincidentally last week's Torah portion was about the first seven plagues, one of which was boils. I guess we can feel lucky that it was only boils and not also frogs and lice. So he's in quarantine and the rest of us are trying to stay warm enough to get healthy and survive our first winter in the Jerusalem hills. We were not prepared for this much cold and wet.<br />
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And the thing about Israeli houses is that they are mostly built to combat heat. But that appears to be the case in the winter also. Whatever heat we do manage to create just evaporates into the cinder block walls. Bye bye. So the other day Mr. Rosen's dad came and taped plastic sheeting to all of our windows and sliding glass doors to protect us from the cold and, incidentally, chemical warfare. Funny what Israelis have lying around the house. It's not the most attractive option but it was cheap to buy, free to install (thanks Saba) and works great. Hopefully the worst is behind us and we can get ready for a beautiful Spring in another few weeks. With this much rain we have high hopes for a dazzling wildflower season. And a few rounds of hay fever.Susie Lubellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09187446573678621672noreply@blogger.com6