Waiting For the Phone to Ring

Lailia Tov:


I confess; it's a tough night. I am sitting here, working on this entry, debating between a bowl of ice cream or a cup of coffee.
Waiting for the phone to ring.
So many of my friends are taking the kiddos to Church or Temple Harvest Parties. For some, this is the first time their little darling has been dressed as Dragons, Winnie the Pooh or Queen Esther, enjoying Apple Cider and Pumpkin shaped cookies.

They shall take part in custom parades, hear Bible Stories and even ride the rides and play games based on Biblical themes.

No Treat ot Tricking? Oh those poor kids!

Really? Children dressed not as demons, witches, thieves (that is what a pirate is, you know) and such, not out begging for candy, but in safe, healthly surroundings, with family, friends and fun and these kids are poor?

Hmmm

We have one Christian Ranch that has Hayrides on this night. The Barn right now in full swing with dancing and laugher.

And not one craved Pumkin dropping his pants or losing his lunch in sight.

I remember years ago, one of the little ones in my nursey class was telling her friend about the Harvest party her Temple would be holding.

Another Sukkah party. Hannah called it.

She was right. Sukkah is a Autumn Feast. Thanksgiving is based on Sukkah. Wisely, Churches and Temples around the country have taken a similiar view; the Harvest party is the alternative to a Halloween one.
I was one of those Holy Than Thou mums who did not allow her son to trick or teat. In fact, my son's friends wanted to attend the Harvest parties.
They thought the Church party was more fun
I still like to go.
But tonight, it is hard.
I had hoped that our dream was coming true: a baby.
But this morning......


So I sit here, trying not to be jealious of my friends who are preggiers and out with their families this evening.


Trying not to hate because their husbands are holding their hands and my is holding blueprints to a future school.


And then I smile. Mark called this afternoon. A nice surprise.


He wanted to hear my voice before he went to sleep.


He said he would call me later today (it would be my bedtime) and sing me to sleep.


Waiting for the phone to ring.

I Chose Life. I Chose Light

Tonight, a night when many will celebrate all things dark and dead and call it fun,

I chose to celebrate Life and Light.

Novel Idea

Shalom:
While catching up on my Blog reading, I found the following on I Have Tea (I love this Blog) November is Write a Novel month (175) no matter how bad it is.
And since I am working on a book idea, I get shall give this a go.
I love to write (can't you tell) so I figured I would post this on our Blog and invite others to join in the fun

http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/whatisnano

Our Honoured Dead

Boka Tov: Good Morning.

A few evenings ago, our President finally faced the reality he is a War President. Now I am not putting Mr.Obama down, it is just a hard fact to come to grips with. Amoung the vast piles of papers he must sign are orders sending the men and women of our Armed Forces into battle.

And  while all of service folk do come back to waiting arms of family and friends, some will not feel those embraces.

Some return to us in coffins.

 Mr. Obama made an surprise arrival at Dover Air Fort Base to honour the return of 18 fallen heroes.

One of my biggest complains about Mr. Bush was he never did this. And I shall not judge him or his reasons. That is between him and G-d.

So, for the first time in many years, we see a President giving his respect to fallen soldiers. Men and women he himself send to war. The family of Sgt Dale R Griffin permitted this picture to be taken. I thank them. It is a sobering remind of the weigh the office of President carrys, of the sacrifices our military and their families make.

When  Mark called from Afghanistan last, I told him about this and he was both touched and honoured.

We continue to pray for Mr.Obama.

A Whole Hour

Lailia Tov (Good Evening)
Mark's day is just beginning as my begins to end. Meetings and then work. The beginning of November he is going to be in the field, so there will be about two weeks that we won't be in touch.
And G-d, knowing this, allowed us an extra 30 minutes on the phone.
I believe in mircles and thank Him for a full one hour and eight minutes with my beloved.
It is a amazing how such a little thing as a phone call can mean so much.
When given 30 minutes, you get to the heart of matters rather quickly and half of the time is "I love you" and "I miss you." So to be given an extra 30 minutes is like being handed an extra piece of mum's homemake chocolate cake.
It is a good thing started the CarePackage, because Mark has asked for sheets. So tomorrow morning I shall pick up the deplpyment kit that I was suppose to get today and Sunday go shopping for twin size sheets. I'd throw in a towel as well. It is those little touches of home that gets our loved ons through long deplpoyments. Us too.
Tonight I am reading The BookSeller of Kabul.
Honestly, as much as I have looked forward to it, I have a feeling I am going to be upset.
Mark says it is because of the views of women.
I think it is going to be more than that.
The author, Asne Seierstad is invited to stay with the family of Sultan Khan (not his real name) so that she can write about life in Kabul and about Sultan Khan, a bookseller in Kabul.
The only BookSeller in Kabul. Dispite the change of his name, people still know who he is. And I can't help but wonder what his reaction to this book has been.
I am going to be fair and gracious, reading the book before making anyother judgements.
Like The Kite Runner, I shall write a review.
In the meantime, if anyone else has read this book and has thoughts, please share them.

LoveFromIraq: It is Snowing#links

LoveFromIraq: It is Snowing#links

Boka Tov;
Last night, just after 11p.m Mark called. It has been a week of meetings where he is and he on his way to yet another one. But first he wanted to hear my first.
His first report: "it's snowing in Afghanistan!"
Winters are brutal in the country; on the people, land and beast. So Ineed to add Hot Chocolate to the CarePackages going out. There is more in the above link.
Today I am meeting with another Starbuck buddie and yes, Marty, you have trained me well: I shall have my cameria. In fact, I have some pictures I know you shall love and will get them up soon.
Yes, Betty, Moshe is also going. I would never hear the end of it I didn't take him.
So I need to go clean up the Dinningroom and prepare an areaa for baking goodies to go to Afganistan and meet up with my buddy.
Chat later.

LoveFromIraq: The Second Report#links

Mark's second report and my own thoughts.
LoveFromIraq: The Second Report#links

NightMare on Hamptom Blvd

Shalom:
Yesterday's entry did not include the Nightmare on Hampton Blvd.
I wanted to wait a full day to report.
It all began as I was leaving the apartment for the Laundry.
Hampton Blvd is a main stay around here and it's being backed isn't that unusal.
Except it was going toward ODU (Old Dominion University) and the Navel Base, not toward the Portsmouth Tunnel. At first I thought there had been an accident.
 But then I noiced several  police cars and black limos denoting someone of great importance was in the area.
So, I threw my laundry bag over my shoulder and continued my merry way.
After dropping off the laundry, I planned to hit one of my favorite little shops. I hadn't been there since Mark's last visit home and the shop owner is a friend.
Didn't get the chance. Someone came in and said that access to 43 and 45th street and Monarh would be limited. And there was no bus service coming down my end. This met not only I wouldn't able to go to the little shop, but downtown as well.
As I dropped coins into the Washer I learned why: President Obama was in town, support Mr.Deed's run for Governor.
Well, that explains the no bus service and why the front of my apartment looks like a parking lot.
The President was just ten minutes from me.
I dropped in the last coin and went to Starbuck.
It was a Hot Chocolate day.
I finished The Kite Runner, picked up my laundry and headed home.
By now the schools were letting out, the Navel Base rang its evening bell and the hosptial was changing shifts. Traffic was at a stand-still.
Tempers flared. There even words exchanged between cars.
Students from ODU were walking home, dragging their book bags behind them.
No bus serivce.
Yes, the local and national news covered it.
Not one word about the backed up traffic.
Guess that wasn't too important.

Why Blog?

Shalom:
It is a beautiful, sunny autumn day and I plan to get out with my cameria.
I did start the new blog,( lainisview.blogspot) and will start posting my pictures.
As I told my mum-in-law, it's keeps me out of trouble as well as show the beauty of the world I live in.
I was catching up on some of my fellow bloggers, reading what is going on in their minds, hearts and heads.
I recall the words of one blogger: there are some in BlogLand that are the "authorty on this or that" and will rip you apart if you have a different view. After all, THEY know best."
I have to agree. There are Blog Bullies out there; some aren't aware that they are.
One can share their point of view without attacking others like a Buzzad on RoadKill if their opinion differs. I hav seen it first hand. And sadly several months ago, someone called my name out in a rather nasty comment.
Just because I have a different view.
So why Blog?
Because we all have something to say; something to share and teach. Because there is someone out there who needs the smile your entry brings. Needs the new fresh thought.
Needs a new friend.
I confess it is hard to read some blogs sometimes. It isn't the grammer and/or spelling (though this new text-english drives me nuts) It is being called a bigot when you don't agree with same-sex marriage, when you supported John MacCain and hearing your husband called a killer because he is fighting a war that was declared on us.
I thought this is a free country.
And yet I of all people, am called a racist because I didn't support this country's first biracial President. That Blogger has the right to their words; it is their Blog. But what if the person you write about reads your words? What if it is their mother, father, sister, brother? I am not a Obama supporter, but if any his family read my blog.....
Get my drift?
All of us who Blog, have a reason for being here.
And whether we realize it or not, like it or not, more people read what we have to say more than we know. And those words have more impart than we can imgaine.
Happy Blogging.

I happen to be one of those strange people who likes Sarah Palin. Oh, I know there are folks who make their living trashing Mrs. Palin. Like the boy who almost became her son-in-law, the father of her grandson.
Again young Levi is speaking about Mrs Plain and her family.....
I don't know what it was about because I turned off the TV. I don't eat swine and I don't allow filth in my home.
Reminds me of something my mother said years ago. Words I didn't heed until way too late.
Mummie always said the man you chose as your husband is one of the most important decisions you make. Be wise as to who you give your heart to.
Young Miss Palin, like so many of us, wasn't wise and now she has to deal with the father of her son running down her family.
It doesn't matter if it is true or no.
It isn't right.
I know. I loved a Levi and paid dearly for years.
My Levi died ten years ago. A very sad, bitter man.
My prayer is someone will advise Levi to get out of the mudpit, wash and get his life together. For his sake and that of his son's.

The Deadest Month

Laili Tov:
Yesterday it was 14.
Today 11.
In total, it is 55 dead.
October is the deadiest month in Afganistan since the War began.
It has been hard watching the news the past few days. Hard hearing of the deaths of American servicemen. Hard hearing our leaders and news reporters going back and forth as to if and when if there will be a troop increase, if so how many and when. The "giving of a thoughtful decision and not being rushed."
Yeah.
Expect for some of us this isn't a numbers game. They have names, faces, wives, children, parnets. Someone's husband, father, brother, son.
My husband.
We sit and wait for the President to make a decision.
We gather together with other going through the same and hug and pray.
We tug our babies in bed and pray.
We light candles; for the living and those now with G-d.
And we pray.

My Thoughts on The Kite Runner

There is a way to be good again.
The Kite Runner.

Shalom:
This morning I finished The Kite Runner and rented the movie as well.
While there is much left out of the movie, it does capture the heart and is very faithful to the book, though I believe Baba came off a little harder in the movie.
First, it is not an easy book to read or movie to watch.
The Kite Runner tells the story of Amir, a young boy from Wazir Akba district of Kabud and his friend/Servant Hassan. There are times one cannot tell if the affection Amir feels for Hassan is indeed friendship or that one would feel for a beloved pet.
While set in Kabul, it story is one that is known throughout the world; one that crosses time and space.
It is a difference of culture: Amir is Pashun. Hassan is Hazara.
It is a difference of religion; Amir is Sunni and Hassan Shi'a.
It is a difference of class: Amir is wealthy. Hassan is his servant.
And yet they love each other like brothers.
It is a boy, Amir wanting the love and respect of his father. So much so he is to be silent to a brutal assault, to lie and even setup the fall of another to get it.
It is a father, finally learning to love his son.
It is Amir, finding and recieving forgivness and righting the wrong he himself put into motion.
 That faith in the wrong hands doesn't bring salvation, but damnation. That the fruit we bare live on long after we are gone, that our lives are indeed a tapestry made up of the threads of others. Some bright and golden. Other dark with black with blood and lies.
I read the book with tears.
Remembering being afraid of my own shadow and my little sister beating up the bullies for me. Of my reading to my sister the stories she loved over and over again, even begging me to read the ones I made up.
It is finally coming face to face with the bullies that shamed me and rejoicing they no longer have any power over me. And that it may takes years, but in the end the bully gets his in the end.
How a once beautiful country and people went through the same brutal assault Amir witness and still struggles from.
That someone has to stand up to the bully....that there is a way to be good again.
It is the story of King David who seeks to care for the offspring of his friend, Jonathan.
As Jews, we are taught it is not enough to ask and recieve forgivness. that is the starting place. G-d does forgive, but we should also work to restore if possible the harm we have done.
Amir had to face his past, his sins and in doing so, saved his life and another's.
There are life lessons in this book that I believe, no matter what your background can take away, learn and grow.
I am reminded of the power of forgivness and love, force that doesn't end at death. That G-d always gives us chance after chance to right the wrongs, atleast try in some cases, in our lives, in our world.
I strongly recommend The Kite Runner to all.

10:47

Boka Tov:
I had just reading some of The Kite Runner, read some Torah, said my prayers and turned off the light when the phone rang.
It was 10:47p.m and I knew who it was.
The days had busy ones. He had heard about the crashes and knew he had to call...
"Baby, I'm fine..
I knew whatever happen he was. But it was still nice to hear his voice.
Of all things, we spoke of and even sang parts of "I'm Already There" to each other. We spoke of the fact there are things that happen, parts of the day that causes one to think of the other. How at times we can feel each's presences.
It is what happens when one is married to one's soul-mate.
The call last 38 minutes. We had an extra 8 minutes. How preious is that.
He had an early day. Yesterday he had to give reports, today to deal with a Contractor not quite living up to his end.
I shall be writing Mark's second report later.
When we rang off, I gave thanks for hearing my beloved's voice again. But also prayed for those wives, mums and daughters who would be recievings such calls ever again.
As a military daughter and mum as well as wife, I can relate their worries and hurts as well.
I have sisters hurting. And as I hung Mark's pillow, I prayed for them as well.
Well, it is another day of laundry.
Mark and I agreed that by doing one bag a day, I don't wear myself out and I actually get out of the house. Good plan.
I also hope to visit the sites I have missed the past few days.
This weekend I do plan to go shopping for a better cameria. The one I have is very good, but the Zoomer is not working as well as it use to and I am actually losing good lights and shots fighting with the Zoomer: it speeds up, gets stuck, etc. I don't think it is worth price to have it fixed, but I could be wrong.
I am thinking about doing a blog of just my pictures and the stories behind them.
I think might be fun. Let me know what you think of the idea.

A Kite Runner

Lailia Tov:

Last night I began The Kite Runner.

To many reading this blog, Kite Runner is an old friend. I remember hearing of it as a movie. And I look forward to seeing it after I read the book.

Funny, but the title reminds me of my mum, for she taught not only my sister and I, but my son as well how to fly kites. The various kites we would have in the closet; extra for neighorhood children to join in the fun. My, did she love to fly kites.

I really haven't thought about that much.

It has been almost ten years that she had her series of strokes.

No more kites.

But I realize today that I live within several nice parks where I can fly a kite. So, after I ge my home back in order from being sick, I am going to look for some kites.

One for Mark, one for Mummie and one for me.

And when Mark gets back home next May, we are taking Mummie kite flying.

Clean Clothes, A New Friend and Peace

Shalom:
I decided that since I am still getting over the flu, I would not do all of the laundry at once and wear myself down. So I shoved dark clothes into a laundry bag and headed off to the LaundryMat.
Once the clothes were placed into the washer, I headed off to Starbucks for a cup of coffe to enjoy with a very good book.
Mark told me that often the author has been asked: "but what happen to the little boy?" The answer: 'it is a work of fiction." The Kite Runner is a work of fiction on the backdrop of real events and you walk away caring about the people your reading about.
I can't wait for the quiet of the evening to return to its pages.
Starbucks is also Supporting Our Troops by sneding them coffee. For every box of coffee you by to send to the troops, you recieve a free cup of coffee.
Thanks Starbucks.
But it is also a sad day at Starbuck: The Pumkin Spice Latte is now out and it is still not kosher. I hope someone from Starbucks reads this and figures out a way to fit this problem.
I miss my PumkinSpice.
So with my Mocha Latte, I sat down and began to read The Kite Runner.
I had just finished a second chapter when I notice a sweet, blonde head little boy in a stroller. Mama had stopped for coffee before they headed to the park.
His mum asked if the book was any good. I told her yes, and we began to talk about books. She was a reader and looking for something new. I also suggested Three Cups of Tea and The BookSeller of Kabul.
It turns out that she is a Navy wife, securing housing for her family. They are still stationed overseas and will move here in a few months.
She mentioned someone she knew doing Humane work in Kabul.
I asked if it was so-in-so.
Turns out it was.
Funny how G-d brings folk together.
So my new friend and her little guy headed off for the park and I headed for ATT&T to learn how to use my new cell phone.
It is great, but it was driving me nuts.
But after 30 minutes of patients teaching, I now know how to use my cameria, including video, get a new Ringtone for free and get on facebook.
If your going to buy one of these fancy phones, you might as well learn how to use it.
So it was off to put the laundry into the Dryer.
I got some cool pictures around Ghent. While I hate Halloween, I get snap a few pictures even I couldn't pass up.
As I went about my day, there was a slow Peace growing inside of me. Peace "in the mist of the storm." As the song goes.
I felt The Holy One whisper: "Mark is in My Hands."
Our life and times are in G-d's Hands. Sometimes we folk of faith forget that. Regardless of what happens, both Mark and I are in G-d's Hands. And I must rest in that.
And I did.
I prayed for Mark, his unit. For the families who would recieve news of their loved ones, that the G-d of all comfort would comfort them.
And us.
I light a candle tonight.

What I Am Really Doing

Boka Tov:

Right now as I look out the study window, I am being greeted by a sky trying to decide to be sunny or gray.

Having stepped onto the FireEscape earlier in the morning, I found the air cool. So it is a sweater day.

And Laundry Day.

It is one of the aftermats of having the flu: clothes that smell like Vics Vapor Rub.

Yuck!

So I decided to make a morning of this: Gathering the clothes, getting change, calling the cab and heading to the laundryMat. Starbucks is three blocks away, so I can get a cup of coffee and read some more of the Kite Runner.

This morning I awoke to the news that there were 14 soldiers killed in Afganistan. There are four-teen families about to see the Black car sitting in front of the house, that knock at the door. The Black Car. The Knock at the Door. It goes with war.

We are at War.

I am waiting.

I am waiting for that call.

"Baby, I'm fine."

I need to pray. I need to keep busy. I need to wash smelly clothes and make cookies for neighors. I need to feel the fresh air blowing in my face and grab my cameria to take the pictures I missed yesterday.

I need to hear Mark's voice.

The Kite Runner

When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.
A Persian Proverb.

Lailia Tov:
Tonight I begin the Kite Runner.
After Three Cups of Tea, it is one of the books that is required reading for the Army.
I recieved Three Cups of Tea from a friend during Mark's last deployment. What stuck was how much Greg Mortenson is alike, even down to being big guys. Of course my big guy is blonde. But they both have that same, compassion, caring spirit. Like Greg, Mark even saw two schools started in Iraq.
When Mark came home, I gave him my copy to read. And while he was at Fort Dix, he did get to read it, along with the Kite Runner and The BookSeller of Kabul.
After finishing The Chroncles of Narina during the time I was recovering from the flu, I knew it was time to begin these two books.
Opening the book, I enter my husband's world and it makes me feel closer to him.
I will be posting as I read, sharing the insights. Mark loved these two books and I know I shall.
My tea is ready.
Night all.

I'm Already There

Lailia Tov:
I have not only heard this song all day, but experence it as well.
I can never hear "I'm Already There" without breaking into tears. It is a song too many of us live.
Today as I was heading for one my picture locations, the wind began to blow, throwing my sidelocks. I couldn't help but smile, because it reminded of how Mark would often play with my hair. The wind against my cheek, reminded me of his touch.
Suddenly the clouds disappeared and the sun was shining.
It is mid-morning here. Night in Afganistan.
Mark tells me the nights are so beauitful there. Surrounded by mountians, a ebony night sky fill with huge silver stars. His first night in country, it was a full moon. The Moon looked one huge Pearl. He says her beauty reminds him of me. And this when he misses me the most; for he cannot share this scence with me.
But I remind him: I'm already there--I am the beat in your heart, the wind whispering in his ear.
Mark would just be looking up at the night sky, thinking of me. So I thought of the words: "I am the Moon looking down, the wind whispering in your ear. Can't feel the love we share? I'm already there."
The song not only captures the pride we have in our beloved, the longing, but also the long and the commitment.
I am the beat of your heart.
Sleep well beloved.

LoveFromIraq: Mark's First Report#links

LoveFromIraq: Mark's First Report#links
Shalom:
This is Mark's first, full report on his work in Afganistan. I hope you stop by and give it a read and even lead a comment.
Laini

Battiers

Shalom:

This morning I realized three things: one I need a new Mouse Pad. Two, my Mouse dragging, why? ah, it need fresh battiers and three I need to change the battiers.

Ok.

Now usually I just say: "honey, I need fresh battiers!" and within minutes the TV channel changer, my cameria, etc has fresh battiers.

But when your husband is deployed, you have to learn how take care of things like the changing of battiers yourself.

So, I had to first think: ok where would Mark keep battiers.

In his desk.

An empty battery pack stared back at me.

So since I had to go to the store for a few things, I need to add battiers to the list.

But first I went to take some pictures.

Today's goal was; a morning walk, take some pictures, clean house while chicken stew stews.

Our area is alive with the colours of Autumn. And just as I was about to snap a shot of a lovely Church that's over one hundred years old, the cameria flashed me a message: change battiers. The lighting today isn't that great...

So off to the store I go.

I found everything but battiers.

I ran into my friend David who is the manger of the Kosher section and he told me that they were at the front of the store, at the custom's service desk.

Cool.

So now both the cameria and the Mouse have fresh battiers. And I plan to make a pot of chicken and veggie stew for the week.

The life of an army wife.

Enjoying a Whine

Shalom:

Why are all the classes I wish to take on Saturdays?

Yes, I know Saturdays are great for working folk. And I wouldn't take that away from them. But being Jewish, I don't work or attend classes on Shabbat and until I find something during the week or Sundays, Saturday is it.

I found a beginners Art class and a Dance class I wanted to enroll. Nearby. Both are just a busride away. It is has been years since I'd picked a brush and figure this is a good time to do so. I plan to start teaching dance once again, but getting a few classes under my belt as well as getting back in shape is a good idea.

But on Saturdays.

So, you have to chose....

No choice.

Keeping Shabbaat isn't just a "good idea," but a Command that still holds today as it did on the very first Shabbat G-d stopped working and took a step back to enjoy His creation. That is what He invites Man to do.

So I shall continue to search for the classes I wish, with the hopes there is something during the week.

At least The Writing Class is during the week.

Back To Normal

Signing How Great Thou Art

The Choir I use to sing with, led by Nancy Klein

The Hymal for the evening.

Boka Tov:

Well I feel human again.

And coffee is brewing.

I still have a cough, it is different because my lungs are clearing up. And that means I can enjoy coffee once again.
Oh how I have missed you.

Last night was my first night out in a while.

The Church Mark and I use to attend had October Hymnfest and it was a blast. Some friends invited. But I don't drive.

That's another story.

So Ted and Susan offered to come and take me. With their precious little girl Susannah. Just a little blonde beauty. Like her dad, Susannah loves to sing.

The church was packed. young and old, from all backgrounds, the choir upfront leading the congregation in song. Some I haven't heard in years and took me back to my childhood.

At two and a half years old, little one did well, and we managed to stay until the next to the last song when we had to leave. There were friends I hadn't seen in a very long time and it was good to get some many hugs.

Next we went to a Christian Coffee Cafe, again another childhood memory. In the 60's during the Jesus Movement, Coffee House was the thing, where singers who came to faith in Messiah would start up to sing about their new found faith, play their songs and was the beginning of what we now know as Christian Muisc.

I came tried, but happy. Grabbed some juice and posted my pictures on the Church's website.

Then Mark called. I will be posting later after I get some work done. He has exciting news of what he is doing these days.

So now my coffee is ready and I need to get about my day.

See you later.

I Need New Socks.

The sights of Indian Summer in Ghent.

If your going to walk about Ghent, you need cute socks. During the weekend, while I laid in my sick bed, looking at my sock covered feet, I was wearing a pair of Mark's old PT socks. Thier cute for working out and walking about the house. But I need some cute socks.

My mind went back to when I wearing a soft cast to protect my ankle as I awaited the operation to replace my tendon. I had taken an old dance legging and sewn fancy bottoms all over it. Sadly I didn't take a picture, nor I have the legging. And the buttoms are on a Victorian Quilt I am making.

So I got the bright idea to sew more buttoms on some of the socks Mark left me. And this way I don't have to worry about matching them.

Pictures forth coming.

But I still needed some nice, girlie, colourful socks.

After I left the doctor's this week, I went to the mall and found....none.

Yuck!

However, in the sale's bin of my Drugstore, I found these babies. Now my age about to show, but I was 17 years old when this sock came out: and it had gloves and a hat to match. My druggist said she knew there more in the back and would keep an eye out for me. Anyway, I am planning a shopping trip and I know Claire's has these.

So I shall be picking up a pair.

Or six.

Shabbat.

While not one hundred percent, and refusing to feel guilty because my home isn't as I would like, Baruch HaShem (Priase the Holy One) I am at least not as sick as I was last week. That I am still here to enjoy Shabbat. My meal is prepared, just needing warming and I have Challah. Recovery is still one day at a time. And Shabbet is that time when the body is at rest and renewing.

Ah the Joy of Shabbat.

Next week, G-d willing, I shall share three dreams I have about Sabbat.

Until, have a wonderful evening. And to all, whether you celebrate now or one day, Shabbat Shalom

Early Will I Seek Thee

Boka Tov;

Last night, I had enough energy to start disinfecting our home. Since I have been sick a week and doing much better, it is time to rid our beloved dwelling of the lurking grems so I can start welcoming my friends over one again.

Besides, it could use a good airing out.

Since we are enjoying Indian summer, I figure no A/C, just semi fresh Norfolk air.

But the windows are stuck and I have to go back to the landlord to ask the painters to please open one of the windows they painted over during the summer.

The kitchen is once again clean, even the fridge. Since I made a huge pot of Mazta ball soup, Shabbat Supper is ready and all I need to pick is Challah.

Not pushing it, I cleaned up for bed said my prayers and went to sleep.

During my cleaning, I did alot of praying. My facebook page is full with friends who are suffering and/or their families are with the Swine or Bird flu. Young are very young, one expecting a baby. One friend's mum had an operation to have a tumor removed, another her grandfather is leaving this world and going to the next. Five months along, she flew out to be at his side, her husband and little boy leaving today.

Many doubt the power of prayer, that miracles happen. That it is just wishful thinking on weak folk parts that cannot fact reality.

Everyone has a right to their opinion.

I have seen too many miracles, too many answers to prayer not to believe that there is SomeOne watching over me, Who hears my cries and acts as He wills.

Sometimes not to my liking. But always, in the end for good, though I don't always see it.

Can't He acted without my asking? Of course. But like you and I, HaShem likes to be asked.

But He's G-d.....

And?

I remember telling my mum I could tie my own shoelaces.

Pleased that her old so wise three year daughter knew from the womb how to tie her shoelaces, she wanted to see this.

After watching me struggle with the strings for over an hour, finally I said in total frustation: "are you going to help me!"

"You told me you could do it yourself. Do you want my help?"

"Yes!"

Raised eyebrow.

"Yes, please."

With the patience only a mother could have, she undid the knots in one shoe and to my horror, cut the knots to my other shoe.

Who put the knots there in the first place, Laini?"

She then slowly began to teach me how to tie my shoelaces.

There are some knots that even G-d cannot undo. Not because He can't, beacuse He won't break His own laws. And that is a hard one for us humans to handle.

We live in a fallen world, thanks to the sin of our Parnets Adam and Eve. But much of the disease and suffer are from years of things we humans have done to the earth and to each other. For years, Man as a whole has told G-d "I can do it myself," and then yells at Him as we get into one knotty mess after another. And gets mad if the pink shoestrings get cut.

I believe in prayer. I believe G-d uses doctors, nurses and medication to heal as well as natural means such sleep and comfort foods. But I have also laid my hand on a hot eight year old's head and prayer: "Father, I have no money for a doctor or meds, nor a way to get him to the ER. Heal my baby." And the fever broke and he sat up, asking for something to eat.

Years later, I would lay my hands on the hot head of my bestfriend, burning with fever, struggling to breath and praying to G-d as I died 911. The call never went through: the fever broke and he sat up, asking for something to eat. I know a woman who's daughter had a small hole in her heart, but because she was one of the working poor, she didn't have the money to have that heart fixed. She took that child to church, made her kneed before G-d and she asked G-d to heal her daughter.

My baby is now a daddy.

I am now married to my bestfriend.

And this year, my beautiful sister Eileen celebrated her 50th birthday.

That's my story and I am sticking to it.

LoveFromIraq: Roses and Roachs: Which?#links

LoveFromIraq: Roses and Roachs: Which?#links

I wrote this as a followup to an article I read about how the mililarty destroys marriages. It is only one army's wife opinion.

Painitng The Town

Lailia Tov:
This morning I went out to pick up the medication my doctor ordered. It is just a 15 minute walk and like yesterday, I had no wheezing.
Blessed by His Name.
It was a beautiful autmun day. Warm, not too warm. Bright and sunny. I am so glad I grabbed my carmeria at the last minute.
This tree is beginng to turn lemon.

This tree is just a few doors down from Ghent Eye Care.

Ghent is indeed alive with the colours of Indian Summer.

In more ways than one.

While out, I notice a lady painting in front of the Chabad House painting. She graciously allowed me to take a picture of her. It turns out this week is Painting The Town Week. Some 60 local artist are out and about the city of Norfolk with easels, paints and canvas today and tomorrow, 'painting' our fair city. Then, on Saturday from 6-8 pm, the paintings, fresh off their easels, will make up the WET PAINTING SALE! @ Historic Motiticello Arcade, 211 City Hall Ave/208 East Plum street.

So if you who are reading this live in Norfolk, why not stop by and checkout the local talent. And no I am not getting paid.

I just happen to be the lady with the cameria, catching the artists at work.

Or should I say play?