New Page-- New Day

Now that it has been two days since we cancelled our newspaper subscription , I go to my NBN site while I am drinking my coffee. The issue of the day is Israeli banking. Seems they are not customer friendly. Right away I am in trouble. I still haven't transfered to a local bank here in Florida. How will I transfer to an Israeli bank, if already they treat me badly.  When you make Aliyah, the government gives you a stipend for a period of time. It has to be deposited into an Israeli bank. There is  bank Leumi in Chicago, I wonder if they are friendly. I might open a small account with them and be ready to be treated as if I was not important.

I found another site while reading the NBN news. It is called Janglo, and it is for Americans who have made Aliyah. It is very consumer friendly.On it, I found a place to take tap dancing lessons in Jerusalem. I love tap dancing. I' m going to keep the info and check it out when I get there. I knew that I should have kept my tap shoes !

So far, I have not missed the daily paper. I can get just as depressed reading other forms of news. It's just a little harder holding a coffee cup and scrolling on on my iPad, all at the same time.

It's never too late to learn a new skill, cup in right hand, scroll with left. It exercises a different part of my brain, and keeping those cells actIve is what it is all about.

The friends that I have made here in Paradise have children the ages of my children. What is different is the career choices . I absolutely never knew anyone who had a child in the military. Here, I have met at least 6 people who have career military children. I wonder what made them choose that path. They are all officers, have families, and seem to be of sound mind and body.

When the first people that I met here told me about their military son, I was confused. Jews that I knew did everything they could , not to be in the service. Was I acting like a white, knee jerking, liberal, tree hugger. Just to tell you where I was coming from, I grew up thinking that there were no Jewish Police or Jewish Firemen ! When I was a kid, I met a new friend. Her Dad was a motorman for the street car. My mother said that they couldn't really be Jewish, because no Jews were motormen. She was a snob and also wrong.

My thinking has changed. I see how  rightly proud the parents are of their military son. They really did make the right career choices. I have readjusted my thinking. Now I see that they made good choices because not only do they serve their country, but they have wonderful benefits. They are the smart , practical ones. I look at them with new respect.

It's never too late to let go of a old out of date prejudices and appreciate these career choices.

Last night we attended a special birthdy party. It was everything that a party should be. It was a happening of friends. It wasn't a pay back party. The one where as long as you are giving a special event party, you invite everyone that you " owe" an invitation to.

This was the kind of party that you would expect from this woman. Warm, full of family and friendship ,great food, humor, love. 

I didn't think that we had a link until last night. She and her husband  ,  years ago, packed their car with kids and belongings and moved across the country . How brave that was . How different . How her family must have missed them. How strong. What a sense of adventure, what a risk taker.

What an example for me. I will follow her lead. My time will come when I pack a container box, put my dog in a carry on kennel, board a plane and go off for my new life. 

It's never too late to appreciate what she has done for family, friends and community, and now for me. 

Happy birthday, Girl. You rock!

In my last essay, I remembered home delivery of milk. We had a milk man who delivered 5 gallons of milk a week to us. He was a regular, three visits a week.  During his visit, he would stop to play with our late, great Wally . Wally loved to play with that toy that let him hold on to one end and you held on to the other and you both tugged. Wally would hold on so tight that we could lift him off the ground and swing him around. The milk man loved that   game, too.

I don't remember when we stopped with home delivery of milk. Probably when we were down to one kid. By that time, Wally was gone and we had our first Charlie. Charlie did not play tug. He played soccer. Really. He could move that soccer ball from one end of our yard to the other. And growl as he maneuvered that ball. He always made a goal, because no one would get between him and the ball. 

I did have another delivery man, too. In Chicago we could still get our groceries delivered. We had 3 kids before we felt the need of a car. I would shop, pay and have my groceries delivered.If only they would have put them in the pantry ! 

I still have a delivery man here in Paradise. It's my UPS guy. Since I am Amazon's best customer, he stops by regularly. He likes Cricket, who gets really excited to see him. Only Cricket isn't a play dog. She is a kisser and a jumper into your arms, dog. It's cute to see a burly guy  giggling while holding a 10 lb. dog and getting his face licked. 

It's never too late to finally figure out that our past and present delivery men, were really dog people and we just happened to give them a play break as they made their rounds. 

We did it. We cancelled our subscription to the NYTimes. I'll see if I can live without a daily paper. The paper so goes with my first cup of coffee.

I read the Jerusalem Post on line and I watch the network news at 6:30 . Maybe that will be all that I need. I was getting depressed with all of the negative news, and there was nothing I was doing that was changing the world.

 What will I recycle now. That red bin will be so empty. As it is, we don't manufacture much garbage or recyclable products. At this rate, I might be responsible for the down sizing of Waste Mangement and the NYTimes.  

What should I do with the money I will be saving by not getting the paper. I think it comes to over $600. a year. I'll think of something.

I can listen to NPR. That's one thing that goes well with coffee. I confess that I like the music that preceeds the actual program. Just like certain scents remind me of different places in my life, that musical introduction always reminds me of our cottage. We were so isolated there that NPR  connected us for a few hours to reality.

It's never too late to change my mind about home delivery of the newspaper, but it may be a thing of the past, like home delivery of milk.

I was reminded of our days when we dumpster dived. We were so good at it that we had shirts made that said " dumpster diver".  Some of the best diving was in Boulder,Colorado .The kids at the university must be rich, becuse at the end of school, they throw out clothes with the tags still attached. All the better for us. We would get expensive , name brand winter clothes. We could even be selective. We had a great time. Then we would go to the laundry place, wash the clothes and then, back to Estes Park where we were renting a cabin. We'd sort and choose,dividing up the loot.

In Evanston, Illinois, we also had great dumpster days. Only now, it was furniture. The further north we went in our suburb, the higher quality the discards were. You would have to get an early start when you went diving. Some times you even had to go the night before when things were put out. It was better than Trick or Treating. You wouldn't think it was strange to see a high price, luxury car stopped at a curb, looking at what was there. It was a fun game and an equal opportunity scavenger hunt.

There isn't any good " junk" here in Paradise. I think that we all have given our kids everything that they would take and then we down sized even more. Too bad. I miss the challenge.

It's never too late to still drive slowly down the street on collection day. I'm not proud.

When I was a kid and I went home for lunch, my Mother always had the radio on to a soap opera. I followed all of the trails of the victims and the heroines . When I reached adulthood , I never became interested in TV series. But now, I am hooked on one show that has me changing plans and refusing engagements because I don't want to miss an episode. It's embarrassing . One of the characters will be leaving the show and when I learned this, I felt physically ill. Isn't that ridiculous ?   I feel like they are part of my family. 

A friend taped a show for me so I could attend a social function. I later watched it at their house on a large , flat screen TV.  Seeing the characters so large made them less attractive to me. In my bedroom, where we have this much smaller TV,  and we sit on the bed to watch, it is more intimate seeing  them share the room with me.

I think this will be the way I ween myself from this addiction to this series . Buy a large screen TV. It makes perfect sense to me. I would have to then put the TV in the living room because I wouldn't want to share my bedroom now with super large characters. But I don't want a TV to be so visable. Then I would have to buy a piece of furniture to hide it in. But my condo is small, so maybe I will have to move to have space for this. When reality sets in, I will just go back to watching my favorite show, in the bedroom, on a small TV that doesn't show close ups of blemishes. It's much less complicated and if I miss a show, I will wait for the reruns.

It's never too late to now understand why my Mother always had the radio on to these soap operas. In a small kitchen or in a bedroom, they become part of your family.

I read my NBN egroup mail before I started writing my blog and it has listed positions wanted . Know anyone who speaks Japanese and is moving to Israel. I have such a hang up about learning Hebrew, how can someone even consider knowing Japanese, much less Hebrew. I'll go for the teachers assistant job in a pre school. I can handle that. My vocabulary will be not as good as the kids, but they could teach me.

One writer to the site started a fire storm when he asked what are the salaries in Israel. He got all kinds of flack about that. Poor guy. Some ideologic souls questioned why he was going to Israel if he was thinking only about money. Those are probably the same people who have their wives go out to work while they " study" , or do not inlist in the army so they can " study". It makes me a little nervous when I see a listing for a family that wants to sell all of the contents of their apartment because they are moving back to the states. why are they moving back. Couldn't afford it, couldn't adjust, couldn't find work? I'd like to know .

Reading the NBN site can be funny, too. Someone asked where to get xtra large sized men's clothes. The reply was that they have seen many large over weight men in Israel and non of them were naked, so there must be a men's store some where in Isreal that sells them. But being Israeli, the message didn't stop there. It went on to scold the large person about their eating issues. Only in Israel could you admonish a complete stranger and neither party thought that that was unusual. The response ended with, " let me know if you find a store".

It's never too late to read the NBN emails, learn what I can from them and keep up my desire to make this journey for myself. 

I have 6 very new, never used, soft, fluffy ,white bath towels. Those big towels called bath sheets. I am saving them for Israel. I know this is crazy because I won't be there for a few more years, but I already have the bath towels, unused, very white.I did this same thing with a set of pots, pans and their covers when I knew we were going to have a cottage, some place. I bought this set of pots and pans in that color you associate with the 60's. Burnt orange .I saved those pots for years before I ever used them. I was finally able to take them out the box when we bought the land and built this 780 square foot,shll of what would be our families haven for over 30 years. I still have one very old slightly faded orange pot cover. The cover doesn't fit any of my present pots, but that doesn't matter.

All of these pot memories and the fact that I have these unused very white towels came up because our daughter used one of the towels when she was visiting. I guess she didn't know the significance of the towels to me. I need symbols and these towels are my link to Israel.The towel is washed and put away with the other 5 very white towels.  I just like to know they are there waiting along with me. We'll get our turn. It's never too late to let these 6 white, fluffy bath towels take up valuable space in my linen closet. They are my future.

Today started out really early. We had to get our visiting daughter to the airport. It takes her a full day of travel to get from her small mountain town to our sunshine paradise, and that does not leave much time before she has to reverse this whole travel thing.

I woke up thinking that today was a Monday. That's because we had such a fun day yesterday, that I thought that yesterday was Sunday. I don't know why that was my first thought, and already , I was wrong. I do think the rest of the day will be " right".

I know that we made one car happy. At the "Sunshine Bridge",we returned the act of kindness and paid the toll for what ever car followed us into our lane. There was no one behind us when we drove through the gate and I told the collector to just pay for the next car. He asked if we knew the driver. I said no, just pass it through. He liked the idea and said he would tell the next car about out treat. I think we made him happy and we made the next car happy.I hope they pass on this random act. We could start a movement.

Cricket was confused by our early morning activity. It wasn't time for her to get up, but too much was going on around her. At least now she could get back into what she considers her room. She doesn't understand  the concept of a closed bedroom door.

Now that I know that today is Sunday, I feel like I am getting a bonus day.Yesterday, I did many things with our daughter that we usually do on Sunday. We went to Goodwill, we had lunch out, we read and napped. It's never too late to just repeat the day, sorta like the movie "GroundHog Day". But unlike the movie, I think I will get it right pretty fast. Lunch, Nap and a good book.

It's never too late to have as many Sunday's in a week as you can squeeze in. 

It has never happened to me. I've read about such things, but now, I have experienced it. A random act of kindness. 

We were driving to the airport to pick up our daughter. There is one toll to pay before we get on my favorite bridge, the Sunshine bridge . Before I left the house, I put $2.00 in the car's ash tray. I always forget how much the toll is, so I wanted to be ready for any amount. We get to the booth and the collector tells us that the car before ours paid our toll. That was so sweet. I had to make a quick decision. Did I then say pass it on and pay for the next car, or just bask in this nice gesture and drive on.

I decided to bask .  I will do this same act of kindness when we bring our daughter back to the airport. This way we will all get to share in the good feeling. I don't want our daughter to leave, but I am looking forward to that trip to the airport.

It took so little to make our trip to the airport an act of kindness. People are nice to me all of the time and I am nice to people too.But this $1.25 act was so unexpected that I think I will always be special. Now I actually know what is meant by a random act of kindness. 

It's never too late to pass it on.Giving anounoumosly is the greatest act of all, even if it is $1.25. 

Finally, it is here. The very, actual, exact day that we were married, 60 years ago. I'm glad that the date is finally here . It's a responsibility . Some of our friends are catching up. We'll have to make sure that we keep in the lead on this one. It has not been hard being married to Bob. I hear that Jewish men make good husbands. It must be true. We are proof. ! I wonder why no one comments on Jewish wives. Maybe they do and no one told me.

We have recieved an outpouring of cards and donations to our Congregation. This means everything to us. It's better than the wedding bcause by 60 years, we know what is important. 

It's never too late to know that we were pretty smart ,60 years ago to say, " I do".

Every morning, before I open my eyes, I give some thought to what I want to say in my "it's never too late" musings. My mind jumps from how disillusioned I am with our government, to what did Tom Clancy die from. Then I read my NBN egroup mail . I learn all kinds of useful information. Yesterday, I read how to clean a kumkum. (?) Lemon or vinegar and boil with water. It's a tea kettle that has mineral deposits. I had to ask my daughter what a kumkum was. Today, I can add " a Jewish bed" to my growing list of what things are called in Israel. That's a King size bed that has two singles pushed together. Interesting.

After the NBN reading, I check the sport pages. Another disappointment for me. Some company's are going to stop paying elite runners big bucks to show up for racing events. And here I was , starting to train again to enter some future running events. 

It's just not fair. I've not been invited to the White House, I never got to be Queen of a Mardi Gras parade, and now ,no money for showing up at a race. 

Sooner or later, I am going to have to decide what I want to say in my blog. Cricket is starting to wake up and after that, I have to get going . It's never too late and I'm getting stared at by a small dog that has to go out---now.

The longer that I live in Paradise, the shorter my memory becomes as it relates to the changing of seasons. The thought of a crisp fall day with leaves turning colors sounds very appealing. I notice leaves on the ground when I take Cricket for her walks. But they are dull ,muddy colored. It's not their fault. But where are the reds,orange and yellow leaves. Someone suggested I take a vacation and go see the colors .

I think that the changing of colors is the only thing we don't have in Paradise. Years ago, a friend of mine moved to California.  At Thanksgiving, I sent her a present. A box of fallen autumn leaves that we collected at our cottage. She cried.

With temperatures still in the 90's, a cool day sounds good. Lately, I have been getting fall catalogues . I look at the flannel shirts and I remember. I see the corduroy pants and I remember. I check out the ski jackets and I remember. Then I look outside at the palm trees and blooming flowers and I  remember why we came here .

It's never too late to appreciate that some where the leaves are changing colors, but remember to wear a hat and use sun screen when I take Cricket for her walk.

This morning in my daily NBN readings, there were muliple job listings. I couldn't decide which one I would take. I even found one or two for Bob. I thought that Bob could be a Chief Financial Officer and I would take the Surgeon offer. I wonder how the pay is? I have never seen an ad for a surgeon. I hope they check credentials when someone answers that request. I wonder how many Jewish Mothers will tell their son or daughter ,the doctor, to apply for this position.

It is more fun to read these NBN entries than the newspaper I have. Even though people write to NBN with complaints, they  skip the bad stuff you see in the daily paper. In the NBN postings, the worse that you read is about high prices and which health insurance you should go with.

If I want to have a reality check, I read the Jeruslem Post. There I see that we are all basically the same. Bad things happening to good people, bad things happening to bad people, with politics and border problems thrown in. Just like home. At least I know that by wanting to move to Israel, I won't be running away from anything, because it's the same every where. 

It's never too late to know that the grass is not greener on the other side of the street, it's just th same old, same old, but in Hebrew.