Birthday gifts

 In the first few weeks of our time in Israel, Danny was intentional about getting us acquainted with Jerusalem and beyond. He taught us how to use the bus system, he dragged us from market to market, he showed us how to get to the nearest IKEA.

We bathed in the beaches of Tel Aviv.

And he introduced me to a glorious, new pastry shop.

Danny also made sure we familiarized ourselves with getting to “The Old City” (not to be confused with downtown Jerusalem), the walled off portion of Jerusalem that houses The Church of the Holy Sepulcher (built on the traditional site of Jesus' burial), the Wailing Wall (a.ka. the "Western Wall," the last remaining portion of the outer wall of the Second Jewish temple complex), and the Dome of the Rock, whose iconic golden profile has become a symbol for Israel itself. On our first trip to the Old City, we started off by walking through the Mamilla shopping center. The outdoor mall with its high-end stores was showcasing sculptures from local artists. 

Some of the pieces were really captivating, showing the joy and appreciation for life that one sees in Israeli culture at large: A mother brushing a daughter’s hair, a dancing girl before a mirror in a twirling skirt, a band of musicians enjoying a performance, a woman laughing with joy. She too must have discovered my pastry shop.

We entered through the Jaffa gate, a little past Danny’s intended schedule. (We were pressed for time to make it to the Temple Mount before the end of visiting hours for non-Muslims.) As we walked through the entryway, a guard handed me and Noemie coverups that looked like rain ponchos. Yes, there is a zero sexy elbow policy on the Mount. Danny doesn’t have sexy elbows so he didn’t have this problem. We shared self conscious smiles with poncho twins that we passed on our way about the compound but our discomfort was short as we were instructed to clear the Mount within 5 minutes of our arrival. Back in the labyrinthine market streets, we practiced navigating the routes through the different quarters of the Old City. 

The next day was my birthday. Danny took me to a garden shop in the German Colony that I had been eyeing whenever we drove by. I bought a peace lily, an aloe, and a diffenbachia, and an assortment of pots and baskets. Gigi went home with a tiny petunia. 

Thus began my romantic entanglement with container gardening. I returned a day later to buy some soil and I went home with some lavender and a lemon tree. And a really big clay pot. After the garden shop we walked to a trendy restaurant in First Station, a bohemian-flavored, open-air shopping and entertainment plaza. I got calamari stuffed with shrimp, leeks, and dill cream. Fancy. Pants. To finish the night, we picked up the older kids from youth group and went out for ice-cream.

Remind me that, for Dominic’s birthday, I should buy him the pastry of his dreams and set it on a shelf before him for 72 hours of mouth-watering anticipation. Then, on the day of his birthday, I am to eat it before he wakes up. It’ll be a really great surprise.

Tovi and Gigi are at a sleep away camp this week- a first for both of them- camping with their church middle school youth group in the Golan Heights (on the shores of the Sea of Galilee). Both have been really struggling with homesickness so I was surprised they decided to brave this trip. They call every night so I know they have survived whatever crazy hike they had for the day. 

It seems pretty intense but they’re happy. Before they left, Gigi and I discussed that if she felt threatened or very uncomfortable or hurt, we would have a secret code when we spoke on the phone- she would tell me that her earache was getting worse- and I would come get her. She called me on the first day and announced, “Mami, my ear feels great!” It’s a good time for them to be gone as we have a construction project underfoot. 

We have been without air conditioning in our bedrooms as the 25 year old units of our house have ceased to function, and the homeowner has been deliberating on his options. Four weeks! It wasn’t so bad at first as June still had deliciously cool, breezy nights and we enjoyed going to sleep with all the windows and doors open. It was almost like camping! But… since July 2, the breezes, like our AC, have died. We go to sleep every night lying flat on our backs on top of the sheets (…government issued flannel sheets…) trying to think arctic thoughts. Replacing the units is no small undertaking as the handlers are hidden behind dry-wall ceilings. The ceilings have to come down. There will be dust for days. Thankfully, our household effects have not yet arrived so the cleaning might not be so, so bad…

Danny took me back to the pastry shop to replace the chocolate birthday croissant that Dominic stole. It’s not my birthday anymore; my new croissant is to celebrate the forthcoming air conditioning. I suspect that with this pastry shop less than a mile from our house, I will be finding new occasions to celebrate every week. The cinnamon rolls look just the thing to welcome back our brave campers! I’ll make sure to get those double chocolate chip cookies for the day we wear the right sleeves to the Temple Mount and… oh my… is that cheesecake?!