It's quiet - so quiet here. My husband is preparing to take our Honda for a test so that we can trade it in for the new Mitsubishi that I test drove yesterday and loved. Amira is with her husband making their own Shabbat preparations - they'll join us for lunch tomorrow if it isn't too stormy or cold to walk down. Elie is with his wife. He says he will come over soon and help me cook.
Shmulik should be getting ready for his computer network management course in Jerusalem; his wife hope resting after a long week of studies. Davidi is volunteering on this stormy morning at the ambulance squad here and Aliza is still in bed asleep.
I have the challah almost finished - a lot more to cook. It was to be a dairy Shabbat - quiches, soup, salmon, and ice cream for dessert. We do it very rarely, but I was in a mood...until the dairy over shorted out last night in the rain when I went to cook the pizza.
When we moved to the house here, we were happy to see that our oven would fit right into the open space left from the previous owners. Unfortunately, though the outside measurements match, the way my ovens were made means they won't fit in. So, we told the movers to put it outside the kitchen on the balcony nearby while they unloaded the rest of the stuff.
We bought an amazing new oven to fit the space - and I love it but I was able to plug my old oven in on the balcony giving me even more cooking room and in the summer - it's great because it doesn't heat up the house. We put a board over it to protect it from the rain. Only in really bad storms does it leak and make it unusable.
At some point, hopefully in the near future, we'll build on the remaining wall and make a whole dairy kitchen including oven. For now, dairy foods are baked outside...except when it rains.
So, with the clouds hovering for the next round, we're going to have our usual meat meal. It's so quiet, so stormy. I'm nervous about Shabbat...I should close my phone and yet the Color Red application that alerts me to each incoming missile feels like an obligation.
No attempt has been made to fire missiles at Jerusalem or Tel Aviv. They could try, but no one is anticipating that. Currently, they are concentrating on the missiles they can fire quickly and then crawl back into hiding. They are hitting as far as Ashkelon and Ashdod - many, many miles away.
The phone alert is my way of reminding myself (and others around me) that we are one country. If they are to be scared when they hear it, if they are anticipating the boom of when it hits, why shouldn't I?
No, I can't do anything about it and so yes, I recognize that in the course of things, it really is a meaningless gesture...and yet, I can't bring myself to deactivate it.
For now, I'll do what Jewish women have done for generations - I'll make Shabbat because the one true great certainty is that Shabbat will come. Peace as we define it between countries probably won't - but peace in the home, peace in the neighborhood and peace in our own country is worth all we can do to achieve...and it often starts each week with Shabbat.
Shabbat shalom - Sabbath peace blessings to all of us and most especially to those in Israel's south - the residents who will likely spend Shabbat in or near bomb shelters, and the brave soldiers who protect them (and us) from the skies, from the shores and from the land.