Some Things Stay The Same

it is 1:30 p.m. in the holy city of zefat.  i thought that i would have a quiet shabbat by myself.  a friend wanted to join me but i told her that i was still suffering with stomach pain and wasn't planning on cooking.  i actually, bought some mini whole wheat pitas, canned tuna and a package of cured turkey to feast on for shabbat.  i also shopped for fish and chicken earlier in the week. just in case, the kids were planning on being home.

last night, my son asked if i could bake a cheesecake for shabbat.  the kids were definitely, planning on being home for shabbat.  the daughter-in-law is cooking.  i gave over the fish and chicken and even some lamb rib lets for her to throw into the cholent.  i gave her some money to buy the sour cream, white cheese and whipped cream for the cheesecake.  i went downstairs to 'borrow' some vanilla pudding.  i didn't feel like fussing to make a caramelized cookie crust.  this recipe is crust less.  it's topped with a lot of whipped cream.

the actual recipe calls for strawberries on top, but that season has passed us by.  i decided to make a second cake to bring to my neighbors, who have been sitting shiva all week.  i was too ill to visit them.  we are having a heat wave.  it's blazing hot outside.  the inside isn't so comfortable, either.  usually, it's freezing up here.  not today.  i still need to do my floors, but i don't have the strength.  the stomach pain is easing up.  i've been living on a homeopathic remedy.

i had a morning visit frorm a good gal pal.  she had dropped her dog off at the vets up here to be neutered and have a little bit of dental work, to boot.  poor thing, she was so nervous.  according to the jewish code of law, castrating an animal is forbidden.  i don't have a male dog.  i had my two females 'fixed' because they were full of tumors from receiving anti pregnancy shots.  i had a heter (rabbinical permission) to do the procedures.

my friend went to pick up her dog and no one gave her post op instructions.  i encouraged her to call the vet on his cell phone.  thank goodness she did.  she thought she had to give the dog antibiotics five times a day.  that did seem excessive to me, but nonetheless, i explained to her that it meant that she had to administer the drug every five hours.  it turned out that she needed to give the dog the meds twice a day for 5 days.  are we having fun yet?

the other night at around 1:00 a.m. the phone rang.  i couldn't imagine anyone calling me at that unholy hour.  it was my son.  appparently,  there was another rat downstairs in the kitchen.  he wanted me to bring the pincher down to help trap the rat.  my stomach was killing me.  the dog wasn't really interested.  my son managed to catch the rat under a broom handle but the dog didn't come to his aid.  the rat escaped.  my son was livid.  he wanted to kill the dog.  i had a moment to think about trying to kill the rat by stomping on its head with my shoe.  i decided not to do it.

my son lamented that if he lived in a normal place he wouldn't be having rat problems.  here we go again.  some things never change.  i told him to try and find a normal place.  a normal place where you can live rent free and have on call babysitting services.  i was too much in pain to get angry.  i told him to clean up the place and  get rid of the garbage bags on the floor.  i also told him to keep his closet doors closed and not leave food stuffs on the floor.

you can't really get an exterminator to do a normal job.  they can leave tons of poisoned pellets around easily enough.  the problem is when the rats retreat to hidden places to die.  you are left with dead, decomposing rats in places you can't reach.  the stench is unbearable.  you also do not want to leave poisoned pellets around a househould with small children and dogs, running around and getting into trouble all the time. i  don't know who's more problematic, the toddler or the pincher.

i went to the doctor yesterday evening.  i didn't dare venture out in the noon day heat. i called a taxi.  however,  he wasn't there.  apparently, the office was also locked up so i couldn't get the referral forms off the machine.  i went to the post office first.  i had gotten a registered letter.  i always get nervous when i have a letter to pick up.  it was from the national insurance bureau.  they were letting me know that they wouldn't be providing me with any help in my house.  i guess the social worker deemed me way too healthy to require someone to come to my house.

the fact that i could shower and go to the toilet on my own was the deciding factor.  someone to help me with my errands, food shopping, laundry, dishes and general cleaning was out of the question.  when i first came home, i couldn' t even make myself a cup of tea.  it's like most things in the country, it's who you know in 'high' places.  my friend, who works for a company that provides home care, is often sent to a person's home that is immaculate.  she is always called upon to clean the home even though you can eat off the floors in these places.  i desperately, needed some help at the beginning.  i wasn't pretending to be helpless.  but americans are often passed over for these governmental services because we don't know the right people.

i was afraid to read the letter by myself.  i saved it for my kids to translate.  i decided to try the medical clinic in town.  i still had 45 minutes left, before they closed.  i grabbed a taxi.  i got there in time to get the forms.  it took a while for the clerk to process them.  i ran into a dear old lady friend of mine.  i hadn't seen her in months.  she gets out more than i do, even with the use of a cane.  she's a dynamo.  i'm a slouch.  a true couch potato.

i felt very disorientated in town.  i also felt dizzy.  i waited for the bus for a long time.  i didn't want to spring for another taxi.  i stopped off at my friend on the next street to chat.  i felt awful the entire time.  i was nauseous and had stomach burning.  i made it home after about 8:00 p.m.  my son caught me as i was entering the house.  he wanted to make a shiva call and needed me to watch the sleeping kids.  he also had a neighborhood barbecue to attend.

my grandson woke up at 11:00 p.m.  he was soaking wet.  i changed him and he wanted some sugary cereal.  he then wanted some sugary drink with red dye.  any wonder he couldn't make it back to sleep?  i called my son at 11:30 p.m. to return home.  he had enjoyed a few shots of jack daniel's.  i was in agony.  i needed my homeopathic pellets.  i got out of there a bit shy of midnight.  the grandkid was stuck to my legs.  i finally got free.