"Soon by you" is one of those odd little phrases. The vast majority of the time, it's meant as a blessing from a kind and loving place. But it gets very old very, very quickly, being heard as, "So, when are you getting married/having a baby already???"
A few weeks ago, however, I heard the perfect application for this phrase. At my office, we eat lunch in shifts. A later eater stopped by the kitchen to get coffee, and wished the assembled early eaters, "B'teavon!" ("Bon appetit!") As you may have guessed by now, one of the early eaters thanked them and said, "Soon by you!"
Speaking of which, I'm trying to get back in the habit of wishing any eating Israeli "B'teavon". This little phrase is really not part of the American culture, but it seems that here, not telling an eating person "B'teavon" is equivalent to not telling a sneezing person, "Bless you." Not the worst faux pas, but it really is rude.
Monday, December 10, 2018
Tuesday, November 20, 2018
Have I Mentioned...
...that I love my job? I was wading through a patent on a type of biological sensor that's referred to as "lab on chip." As an electrical engineer, I thought the mechanics were totally awesome and really enjoyed learning about that aspect of the invention. It's really cool.
But the biology was a total mystery. Google helps with words like "lysis" and "denature" and "elution", but is less helpful with repurposed words like "discrimiator". And if you have the end product you want after 8 steps or so, why do you have close to 20 more steps of mixing stuff together?
So today I'm finally getting to explore that old Bio textbook my college library was selling 15 years ago, and now I actually have a clue what all my pre-med friends were talking about for semesters on end with their gels and their blots. And after a mere 5 pages of Bio 101, when I go back to the patent, the biology part actually makes general sense, and I can scribble all sorts of "look-at-me-understanding-stuff" marginalia and feel all excited at the cleverness of it all.
Still not sure what an RED reporter is, though, and reporters apparently aren't covered in Bio 101. Google gets a little useful for that one again, though. At least I think it does. Ah, well, I can't become an expert on everything in one day!
Seriously. I love this job.
But the biology was a total mystery. Google helps with words like "lysis" and "denature" and "elution", but is less helpful with repurposed words like "discrimiator". And if you have the end product you want after 8 steps or so, why do you have close to 20 more steps of mixing stuff together?
So today I'm finally getting to explore that old Bio textbook my college library was selling 15 years ago, and now I actually have a clue what all my pre-med friends were talking about for semesters on end with their gels and their blots. And after a mere 5 pages of Bio 101, when I go back to the patent, the biology part actually makes general sense, and I can scribble all sorts of "look-at-me-understanding-stuff" marginalia and feel all excited at the cleverness of it all.
Still not sure what an RED reporter is, though, and reporters apparently aren't covered in Bio 101. Google gets a little useful for that one again, though. At least I think it does. Ah, well, I can't become an expert on everything in one day!
Seriously. I love this job.
Thursday, November 15, 2018
VIP
My office had an envelope that needed to be dropped off at the bank yesterday. Since the bank is hardly out of my way at all, I volunteered to drop it off on my way home.
Being me, I told my coworker that she had to give me Very Precise instructions. She laughed, but she told me what I wanted to know: "Go all the way to the end, turn right, on your left will be three tellers for Business Banking. Ideally give it to Shalva, but if she's not there, you can also give it to Vered or Leah. Tell them 'From [Company]; thank you.'"
And then Helpful Malka's heart did verily sink within her, for CoWorker had forgotten something critical that Malka had too forgotten before volunteering for this little errand. My smile now somewhat fixed, I asked, "And what about getting a number to wait in line?"
"Oh no," answered CoWorker, "There is no line. Just go to the end, turn right, and walk up to any of the three tellers in the Business Banking section."
I verified with CoWorker that I didn't need a receipt (not kidding when I say that I need everything spelled out), and went, somewhat skeptically, to see this magic of Going to the Bank without Getting a Number in Line.
Oh. My. Gosh. It's real. It's so cool.
I just waltzed right in to the bank, didn't even glance at the Automated Ticket Dispenser, walked purposefully past all of the people sitting in the chairs waiting and waiting, gave the envelope to one of the Business Banking ladies, turned around, and walked (trying desperately not to strut) right back past all of those poor people, of whom I have always been one.
Bwa ha ha.
Being me, I told my coworker that she had to give me Very Precise instructions. She laughed, but she told me what I wanted to know: "Go all the way to the end, turn right, on your left will be three tellers for Business Banking. Ideally give it to Shalva, but if she's not there, you can also give it to Vered or Leah. Tell them 'From [Company]; thank you.'"
And then Helpful Malka's heart did verily sink within her, for CoWorker had forgotten something critical that Malka had too forgotten before volunteering for this little errand. My smile now somewhat fixed, I asked, "And what about getting a number to wait in line?"
"Oh no," answered CoWorker, "There is no line. Just go to the end, turn right, and walk up to any of the three tellers in the Business Banking section."
I verified with CoWorker that I didn't need a receipt (not kidding when I say that I need everything spelled out), and went, somewhat skeptically, to see this magic of Going to the Bank without Getting a Number in Line.
Oh. My. Gosh. It's real. It's so cool.
I just waltzed right in to the bank, didn't even glance at the Automated Ticket Dispenser, walked purposefully past all of the people sitting in the chairs waiting and waiting, gave the envelope to one of the Business Banking ladies, turned around, and walked (trying desperately not to strut) right back past all of those poor people, of whom I have always been one.
Bwa ha ha.
Wednesday, October 24, 2018
Sunday, October 21, 2018
Duolingo
BSM wanted to know what game I had been playing on my phone while he was in the other room. I quickly gave up trying to explain that the Duolingo language learning app isn't actually a game, and I just let him "play."
He really got a kick out of translating the Hebrew sentences into English.
Friday, August 31, 2018
The Promised Photo
Remember when I wrote that long typo-filled blog about moving?
I mentioned how terrifying the movers' handling of our fragile stuff was. You see, we had them pack the most fragile of the fragile items to ensure no breakage. I had packed a lot of Pyrex and stoneware myself, since I'm Grandpa's granddaughter and I know how to wrap every Corelle mug in newspaper and jam the box full of plastic bags to make sure nothing can move. "Still," we said, "let the movers pack the china."
I am so glad I didn't see them pack, because when I unpacked, this is what I found:
I would like to emphasize that this is exactly what I saw when I opened the box. I didn't take anything out to give you a better view, or anything like that. Granted, this was the worst-packed box I opened (which is why it was selected to be photographed), but it is totally illustrative of their packing methods. And yet... notice the unsmashed light bulb. I am still amazed.
***
Seriously, though, there has to be something else going on.
Husbinator had seen the movers throwing boxes of books on top of boxes marked fragile, so he was exceedingly nervous about breakage and was on pins and needles about calling the foreman to tell him we wanted to be reimbursed for breakage.
Thus, when I picked up a box and heard what could only be the tinkling of a very lot of shattered glass, Husbinator begged me to call the movers right away to ask them what to do: take before and after photos? (This was before I had unpacked anything that the movers had packed.) So I called the foreman before opening the box, and told him that something had clearly broken.
"No," said Chaim, not sounding belligerent or accusatory, just as if he were unable to understand what I was saying. "It can't be."
"Umm..." I answered, "There's only one thing this sound can possibly be..."
"No," Chaim repeated, dazed. "It can't be."
"Listen," I answered, "I'll take a picture when I ope--"
"Oh!" laughed Chaim. "It isn't yours!"
"What?"
"I know what it is!" Chaim continued in relieved triumph. "You're right, you're right: there's that one box. But it isn't yours, it was supposed to stay on the truck, one of the guys brought it in by mistake... Listen, just open it! It's fine."
This was a bit much, but his tone of voice didn't sound like he was trying to weasel out of anything, and even if he were, what kind of stupid plan was this?
So I opened the box. It wasn't ours.
I mentioned how terrifying the movers' handling of our fragile stuff was. You see, we had them pack the most fragile of the fragile items to ensure no breakage. I had packed a lot of Pyrex and stoneware myself, since I'm Grandpa's granddaughter and I know how to wrap every Corelle mug in newspaper and jam the box full of plastic bags to make sure nothing can move. "Still," we said, "let the movers pack the china."
I am so glad I didn't see them pack, because when I unpacked, this is what I found:
***
Seriously, though, there has to be something else going on.
Husbinator had seen the movers throwing boxes of books on top of boxes marked fragile, so he was exceedingly nervous about breakage and was on pins and needles about calling the foreman to tell him we wanted to be reimbursed for breakage.
Thus, when I picked up a box and heard what could only be the tinkling of a very lot of shattered glass, Husbinator begged me to call the movers right away to ask them what to do: take before and after photos? (This was before I had unpacked anything that the movers had packed.) So I called the foreman before opening the box, and told him that something had clearly broken.
"No," said Chaim, not sounding belligerent or accusatory, just as if he were unable to understand what I was saying. "It can't be."
"Umm..." I answered, "There's only one thing this sound can possibly be..."
"No," Chaim repeated, dazed. "It can't be."
"Listen," I answered, "I'll take a picture when I ope--"
"Oh!" laughed Chaim. "It isn't yours!"
"What?"
"I know what it is!" Chaim continued in relieved triumph. "You're right, you're right: there's that one box. But it isn't yours, it was supposed to stay on the truck, one of the guys brought it in by mistake... Listen, just open it! It's fine."
This was a bit much, but his tone of voice didn't sound like he was trying to weasel out of anything, and even if he were, what kind of stupid plan was this?
So I opened the box. It wasn't ours.
Thursday, August 30, 2018
Oh, Chutznikim
We moved... my goodness, over a month ago already!
As you may have guessed, moving was totally nuts: there was lots and lots of stuff to do, most of it urgent. And no, it's not all done yet.
We had to prioritize, and since there was so much that had to get done, not everything that was really important could get done right away. Among our many tasks was hanging mezuzot: usually when Jews rent to Jews, mezuzot stay up between tenants, but for reasons not entirely clear to us, this house only came with one mezuza on the front door.
Husbinator spoke to the landlord about it, who said he would reimburse us for buying and hanging all necessary mezuzot (which will now belong to the house, as is standard). Husbinator and I, being reasonably knowledgeable in Jewish Law, triaged this task as Very Important, but Something That Can Wait for Up To Thirty Days. Because that's one of those odd little nuggets of halacha that are common knowledge: you really should hang up mezuzot ASAP upon moving to any permanent dwelling, but you get a 30-day grace period (perhaps because moving is so hectic?).
So Husbinator kept his eye on mezuza prices, and after a few weeks asked Rabbi Leader to make a house call and tell us which weirdly-shaped entrances and oddly-sized porches did and did not need mezuzot, and where to hang mezuzot on the doors that have equal traffic both ways and don't actually have doorposts. Standard stuff.
Rabbi Leader was surprised we had pushed this off. Husbinator explained the triage system. Rabbi Leader still was confused. Husbinator reminded him of the universally known 30-Day Automatic Extension. "But that doesn't apply in Israel!" Rabbi Leader said.
And so it doesn't! Shulchan Aruch 286:22 clearly writes down the 30-Day Extension which we all know and love. But then he continues with the slightly lesser-known ruling that one who lives in Israel is obligated to hang mezuzot immediately, due to the mitzvah to settle the land. Who knew???
As you may have guessed, moving was totally nuts: there was lots and lots of stuff to do, most of it urgent. And no, it's not all done yet.
We had to prioritize, and since there was so much that had to get done, not everything that was really important could get done right away. Among our many tasks was hanging mezuzot: usually when Jews rent to Jews, mezuzot stay up between tenants, but for reasons not entirely clear to us, this house only came with one mezuza on the front door.
Husbinator spoke to the landlord about it, who said he would reimburse us for buying and hanging all necessary mezuzot (which will now belong to the house, as is standard). Husbinator and I, being reasonably knowledgeable in Jewish Law, triaged this task as Very Important, but Something That Can Wait for Up To Thirty Days. Because that's one of those odd little nuggets of halacha that are common knowledge: you really should hang up mezuzot ASAP upon moving to any permanent dwelling, but you get a 30-day grace period (perhaps because moving is so hectic?).
So Husbinator kept his eye on mezuza prices, and after a few weeks asked Rabbi Leader to make a house call and tell us which weirdly-shaped entrances and oddly-sized porches did and did not need mezuzot, and where to hang mezuzot on the doors that have equal traffic both ways and don't actually have doorposts. Standard stuff.
Rabbi Leader was surprised we had pushed this off. Husbinator explained the triage system. Rabbi Leader still was confused. Husbinator reminded him of the universally known 30-Day Automatic Extension. "But that doesn't apply in Israel!" Rabbi Leader said.
And so it doesn't! Shulchan Aruch 286:22 clearly writes down the 30-Day Extension which we all know and love. But then he continues with the slightly lesser-known ruling that one who lives in Israel is obligated to hang mezuzot immediately, due to the mitzvah to settle the land. Who knew???
Sunday, August 26, 2018
Fun Times
I like to maintain the pretense that this blog is anonymous, so I'm not posting details about my job here.
However, today was the first day of my new job, and I really enjoyed it. Negligible commute, friendly people, and interesting work. It makes me very happy.
Thursday, August 2, 2018
We moved!
I hope that excuses the long silences.
Some bullet points (unformatted, because I'm typing this on my phone):
*Packing is much easier and more pleasant with background music
*Our movers were awesome, if slightly terrifying. They were incredibly kind and cheer, and manged to be both ruthlessly efficient and completely patient at the same time. We also had them pack our most fragile items, and thank G-d I only saw how they packed them after it was all over. One glass dish broke. That's it. When I next sit down at the computer, I want to add a photo of the worst example of their packing, exactly as the box appeared when I opened it. Suffice it to say that there was plenty of room for the stuff to rattle around, and yet even the unwrapped lightbulb remained unbroken. I can only conclude that this is the tiniest portion of their Divine Reward for the cheerful soothing help they give people who are moving.
*Packing is bad, but unpacking is worse. At least until there is a clear underlying order, at which point unpacking is just hard, but no longer impossible. Thank you, Husbinator.
*BSM got a library card!
*We haven't filed any other paperwork indicating that we've moved. No wait, we canceled our internet at the old house, and out our names on the internet and electricity in the new place. We have yet to cancel electricity, water-- Never mind. This is freaking me out again. We will get to it. Very, very soon.
*The community here seems great for us.
*I'm starting work on August 26! Training to be a patent attorney.
*Further posts to follow... Eventually.
:)
Tuesday, June 26, 2018
Only at the Patent Office
This morning, I spoke with a friend of mine who works at the Israeli patent office. We had a good conversation about Life as a Patent Examiner, she sent me some useful links, and I ended up looking at the list of licensed patent attorneys.
Given 502 registered patent attorneys in Israel, how would you sort them? My initial assumption was alphabetically by last name. The patent office, however, was less arbitrary than that: the list is sorted by initial license date, earliest to latest. Of course.
Given 502 registered patent attorneys in Israel, how would you sort them? My initial assumption was alphabetically by last name. The patent office, however, was less arbitrary than that: the list is sorted by initial license date, earliest to latest. Of course.
Thursday, May 31, 2018
Also This
I think the circled box goes a long way toward describing me:
Here we have a clearer shot of the label in question:
(EE stands for electrical engineering.)
(EE stands for electrical engineering.)
Excuses, Excuses
First, I wasn't blogging because I was assiduously looking for work. (I haven't found yet, and haven't sent out email blast to my contacts yet, either. Sneak preview: I'm looking for a laboratory position in physics or electrical engineering, in or near Rehovot.)
Now I'm not blogging because I'm packing. (Estimated moving date is August 1, and we will not be caught flat-footed as we were when we packed up to make aliyah. We will not procrastinate; we will not be forced to pack haphazardly; we will not be impossibly rushed at the end. We will NOT.)
"Is this not evidence of blogging?" you ask. Well, yes, but it's part of packing. I'm up to books, and before I pack Hound of the Far Side, I need to post this comic that I caught BSM giggling at recently as he flipped though the book. (No, I don't encourage that sort of behavior, but I also don't really censor his book-perusing.)
That's all. Back to packing.
Now I'm not blogging because I'm packing. (Estimated moving date is August 1, and we will not be caught flat-footed as we were when we packed up to make aliyah. We will not procrastinate; we will not be forced to pack haphazardly; we will not be impossibly rushed at the end. We will NOT.)
"Is this not evidence of blogging?" you ask. Well, yes, but it's part of packing. I'm up to books, and before I pack Hound of the Far Side, I need to post this comic that I caught BSM giggling at recently as he flipped though the book. (No, I don't encourage that sort of behavior, but I also don't really censor his book-perusing.)
That's all. Back to packing.
Sunday, May 13, 2018
We Signed!
The 12-month rental contract on the house is SIGNED, with an option to renew on the same terms for another 2 years after this. The landlord still seems like a nice, normal guy. I'm having some trouble believing it. That was too easy, right? Please G-d, everything should go this smoothly.
Thursday, May 10, 2018
So Jewish
About two weeks ago, we visited Rehovot (again) to look at some houses for rent. Today, we called one of the landlords and told him we were still interested. The house is still available, we confirmed the price, and he said he'd draw up a contract for us to come and sign on Sunday.
As the conversation was wrapping up, the landlord said, "שיהיה בברכה. ×œ×›×•×œ× ×•" [It should be with blessing. For all of us.]
At which point I suddenly realized that I have the cultural capital to know exactly what was going on: we were sealing the deal verbally right here, right now. So I gave the (nearly) appropriate answer: "ברכה והצלחה" [Blessing and success.] (I looked it up later; turns out the phrase is actually mazel u'bracha. Whatever.)
Hopefully this is just as binding as it is in the diamond district, and contract-signing will go smoothly. Amen.
As the conversation was wrapping up, the landlord said, "שיהיה בברכה. ×œ×›×•×œ× ×•" [It should be with blessing. For all of us.]
At which point I suddenly realized that I have the cultural capital to know exactly what was going on: we were sealing the deal verbally right here, right now. So I gave the (nearly) appropriate answer: "ברכה והצלחה" [Blessing and success.] (I looked it up later; turns out the phrase is actually mazel u'bracha. Whatever.)
Hopefully this is just as binding as it is in the diamond district, and contract-signing will go smoothly. Amen.
Wednesday, May 9, 2018
Siddur Party!
BSM got his first siddur today... at the Kotel. Which is pretty cool. From his account (and the note that was sent home), it seems that they took a van (or meeneeboos) to the kotel, wore crowns and ties, got their siddurim, davened, said tehillim, got their pictures taken (presumably by tourists), went to the park and ate pizza, played, tattled on each other, got ice pops, and all in all had a pretty great time.
Parents weren't invited, so Husbinator tried to find them on the Kotel Cam. He isn't sure if he saw BSM's group, but he saw many similar groups. Rather than blurring one of the few photos I got sent of the event, here's a similar-looking photo from the internet:
Be jealous :D
(And come visit us.)
Parents weren't invited, so Husbinator tried to find them on the Kotel Cam. He isn't sure if he saw BSM's group, but he saw many similar groups. Rather than blurring one of the few photos I got sent of the event, here's a similar-looking photo from the internet:
Be jealous :D
(And come visit us.)
Wednesday, April 18, 2018
Yom HaZikaron
I went to my first official Memorial Day ceremony yesterday, mostly by accident. I wanted to get out, and figured I'd go to the Western Wall. As I was leaving the house, I realized that it was Memorial Day Eve, which meant there would be ceremonies after sundown, and most likely there would be one or two at the Kotel. I decided to go anyway, figuring I could either weave my way through the heavier crowds at the main plaza, go quietly to the probably empty Robinson's arch, or hey, maybe I'd even attend a ceremony.
It turns out that main IDF Memorial Day ceremony is Memorial Day Eve at the Western Wall. I attended, and it was... inoffensive. Seriously, that's the word that comes to mind.
The ceremony started with the nation-wide siren marking a moment of silence for the fallen, then the (apolitical) president lit the memorial torch together with a war widow. A military trumpeter played taps, the president spoke for 15 minutes, a general spoke for 10 minutes, the chief rabbi of the IDF recited a psalm, a bereaved father recited kaddish, the chief cantor of the IDF (there is one!) recited Kel Malei Rahamim (prayer for the dead), everyone sang hatikva.
Muted. Inclusive. Nondenominational. It wasn't bad, I mean heck, I cried a couple of times. But I think this was a good example of a ceremony that went so far out of its way not to offend anyone that it lost most of its power. Who knows, says cynical Malka, maybe that's even by the IDF's design.
Anyway, it was interesting.
It turns out that main IDF Memorial Day ceremony is Memorial Day Eve at the Western Wall. I attended, and it was... inoffensive. Seriously, that's the word that comes to mind.
The ceremony started with the nation-wide siren marking a moment of silence for the fallen, then the (apolitical) president lit the memorial torch together with a war widow. A military trumpeter played taps, the president spoke for 15 minutes, a general spoke for 10 minutes, the chief rabbi of the IDF recited a psalm, a bereaved father recited kaddish, the chief cantor of the IDF (there is one!) recited Kel Malei Rahamim (prayer for the dead), everyone sang hatikva.
Muted. Inclusive. Nondenominational. It wasn't bad, I mean heck, I cried a couple of times. But I think this was a good example of a ceremony that went so far out of its way not to offend anyone that it lost most of its power. Who knows, says cynical Malka, maybe that's even by the IDF's design.
Anyway, it was interesting.
Sunday, April 8, 2018
DONE.
To The Caped Avenger, who explained that the family is totally obsessed, and I need to blog more.
We packed up all of the Pesach stuff and uncovered the counters before 10 pm last night, as Husbinator promised. (I was for putting it off and going to sleep before midnight; he said it wouldn't take long at all.)
I took careful notes about what was getting stored since I have no desire to double-buy again. (The tragedy of having three opened, unexpired cinnamons...)
And now I updated my spreadsheet with more specific quantities and what not to buy and what we have packed away and when I made all of these notes and how trustworthy they are. (E.g. "updated post-Pesach 2018", and "minimum 1 kg sliced cheese is based on FF eating ridiculous amounts of the stuff in 2018", and "only packed one dishtowel: WASH MORE!!!")
So I'm done.
On to apartment-hunting!
We packed up all of the Pesach stuff and uncovered the counters before 10 pm last night, as Husbinator promised. (I was for putting it off and going to sleep before midnight; he said it wouldn't take long at all.)
I took careful notes about what was getting stored since I have no desire to double-buy again. (The tragedy of having three opened, unexpired cinnamons...)
And now I updated my spreadsheet with more specific quantities and what not to buy and what we have packed away and when I made all of these notes and how trustworthy they are. (E.g. "updated post-Pesach 2018", and "minimum 1 kg sliced cheese is based on FF eating ridiculous amounts of the stuff in 2018", and "only packed one dishtowel: WASH MORE!!!")
So I'm done.
On to apartment-hunting!
Sunday, March 25, 2018
Not Quite a Blog Post...
...but my friends, a week before Pesach my notes to myself are really the best we can hope for.
I discovered two Pesachdik dessert recipes this year (that I've made year-round more than once), but they're hand-written additions in the lovely cookbook Sister made for me. I'm typing them up here for my easy reference, and I'm sure I'll print them out/copy them over and stick them in the awesome Pesach cookbook from Aunt Chef.
Macaroons (from some Hebrew site somewhere that I assume I'll never find again)
4 egg whites
1 c sugar
10 g vanilla sugar (I'm sure I substituted a generous tsp of vanilla extract)
2 1/4 c shredded coconut
I discovered two Pesachdik dessert recipes this year (that I've made year-round more than once), but they're hand-written additions in the lovely cookbook Sister made for me. I'm typing them up here for my easy reference, and I'm sure I'll print them out/copy them over and stick them in the awesome Pesach cookbook from Aunt Chef.
Macaroons (from some Hebrew site somewhere that I assume I'll never find again)
4 egg whites
1 c sugar
10 g vanilla sugar (I'm sure I substituted a generous tsp of vanilla extract)
2 1/4 c shredded coconut
- Preheat oven to 160oC (a.k.a. 320oF).
- Whip egg whites (using the bestest awesomest Braun Tribute Collection food processor that I'm in love with).
- Add sugar and vanilla.
- Fold in coconut, half at a time.
- Drop by spoonfuls onto parchment-paper-lined baking sheets.
- Bake 20 minutes.
Meringues (from seriouseats.com)
130 g white sugar (In case the battery is dead in my Pesachdik scale, that's 2/3 c)
50 g light brown sugar (let's call it 1/4 cup)
3 egg whites
1/8 tsp vanilla extract (I must have halved the recipe, right? Nope! Whatever.)
1 Tbsp cocoa
1/4 tsp cinnamon
- Combine the sugars and bake at 200oC (a.k.a. 400oF) about 4 minutes or until it starts to melt at the edges (mine never melts, but it always turns out fine).
- Beat egg whites to soft peaks. (Again, I'm totally obsessed with my Braun FP3020.)
- While beating, add hot sugar to the eggs, one spoonful at a time.
- Beat 5-8 minutes, until egg-sugar mix forms stiff peaks and isn't at all grainy.
- Briefly beat in vanilla.
- Mix cocoa and cinnamon, and lay about half of it on top of the egg whites.
- Glop onto one parchment-paper-lined 10x15 baking sheet. Sprinkle more cocoa/cinnamon mixture on top of the egg whites as needed.
- I get 20 biggish meringues from this recipe. No clue why the original claims to make 9.
- Bake at 100oC (~210oF) for 1.5 to 4 hours until they are dry. (As I recall, I've needed considerably more time than that in the past). Don't be afraid to bake them longer: at temperatures this low, you're essentially dehydrating these yummies. I'm reasonably certain I left them in overnight one tired night.
Monday, February 26, 2018
Ezrat Israel
Usually when I go to the Kotel, I take the light rail to City Hall, then walk to Jaffa Gate and-- you know what? Here's a map of how I usually go:
Basically, I go in Sha'ar Yaffo and walk to the Kotel via the Jewish Quarter.
However, last time I went to the Kotel, I had FF in a stroller, which meant I wanted to avoid the huge flight of steps between the Jewish Quarter and the Western Wall Plaza. I still took the train to City Hall and walked to Jaffa Gate, but I then did this, following the road around to the Dung Gate:
As I'd planned, this drastically reduced the number of stairs I had to climb down.
It's been a long time since I've walked this whole loop, so I was somewhat surprised when, before I got to the metal detectors and security guards at the entrance to the Kotel Plaza, I found what seemed to be a tiny entrance to a different section of the Kotel. I've read that there's a pluralistic prayer section by Robinson's Arch... was this it? There were steps, but not impossibly many, and anyway, the "stroller" was a very light umbrella stroller. Yes, it was the Robinson's Arch Prayer Section.
Here's what it looks like (not my picture):
I stayed there for close to an hour. It was a very different experience than the Western Wall Plaza a few yards away. Vastly fewer people. (While I was there, I saw a total of 8 other people in ones and twos.) Very different. Empty, but in no way "peaceful":
I've seen the Southern Wall excavations once, so I wasn't completely unprepared for the Temple Mount stones still lying where they smashed the street below, but it's still shocking. One of the people who passed through didn't manage to put what I felt into words, though all of his body language and tone matched how I felt. He tried to speak a few times before finally settling on, "How could they have destroyed it?" Not the words I feel, because I don't have any words. But the shoulders forward and chest back, curling in on self; the licked lips mouth that opens and closes multiple times, looking for words that aren't there; the drawn eyebrows and wet eyes.
It's not peaceful. Just powerful.
Basically, I go in Sha'ar Yaffo and walk to the Kotel via the Jewish Quarter.
However, last time I went to the Kotel, I had FF in a stroller, which meant I wanted to avoid the huge flight of steps between the Jewish Quarter and the Western Wall Plaza. I still took the train to City Hall and walked to Jaffa Gate, but I then did this, following the road around to the Dung Gate:
As I'd planned, this drastically reduced the number of stairs I had to climb down.
It's been a long time since I've walked this whole loop, so I was somewhat surprised when, before I got to the metal detectors and security guards at the entrance to the Kotel Plaza, I found what seemed to be a tiny entrance to a different section of the Kotel. I've read that there's a pluralistic prayer section by Robinson's Arch... was this it? There were steps, but not impossibly many, and anyway, the "stroller" was a very light umbrella stroller. Yes, it was the Robinson's Arch Prayer Section.
Here's what it looks like (not my picture):
I stayed there for close to an hour. It was a very different experience than the Western Wall Plaza a few yards away. Vastly fewer people. (While I was there, I saw a total of 8 other people in ones and twos.) Very different. Empty, but in no way "peaceful":
I've seen the Southern Wall excavations once, so I wasn't completely unprepared for the Temple Mount stones still lying where they smashed the street below, but it's still shocking. One of the people who passed through didn't manage to put what I felt into words, though all of his body language and tone matched how I felt. He tried to speak a few times before finally settling on, "How could they have destroyed it?" Not the words I feel, because I don't have any words. But the shoulders forward and chest back, curling in on self; the licked lips mouth that opens and closes multiple times, looking for words that aren't there; the drawn eyebrows and wet eyes.
It's not peaceful. Just powerful.
Wednesday, February 21, 2018
What it Takes
Yes, we planted trees on Tu B'Shvat in the Jerusalem Forest, and it was the first time I've planted a tree in Israel (or ever, really), and it was to help reforestation after the terrible fire I watched from my office building, and it was native trees whose leaves goats eat, instead of pines whose needles just stack up.
Yes, BSM is really starting to read in both Hebrew and English.
Yes, we decided that we'll move to Rehovot this summer.
Yes, Husbinator strong-armed me into watching 60 seconds of a programming course he was taking online and I've been having all sorts of fun since, learning computer science and data science from free MIT courses on edx.org, and yes, I'm loving the nerdy humor and thought-processes therein.
Yes, I plan on starting to look for work in Rehovot after Pesach.
Yes, Dikla told me to buy footsie-pants for FF to keep him from yanking his socks off and wandering around the cold tile in bare feet, and yes, I bought them, and yes, they're called gatkes.
Yes, BSM chose to circumvent my temporary ban on any and all "why" questions by using the direct translation from Hebrew and now says "for what" instead.
Yes, we visited the Kornbluths in Dimona, and took the bus, and nobody vomited or had to pee or screamed for two-and-a-half hours straight.
Yes, and yes, and yes.
All of this I meant to blog, and more.
But this morning I moved a dead cat from our yard to the dumpster.
And that, it seems, is what it takes for me to blog again.
Yes, BSM is really starting to read in both Hebrew and English.
Yes, we decided that we'll move to Rehovot this summer.
Yes, Husbinator strong-armed me into watching 60 seconds of a programming course he was taking online and I've been having all sorts of fun since, learning computer science and data science from free MIT courses on edx.org, and yes, I'm loving the nerdy humor and thought-processes therein.
Yes, I plan on starting to look for work in Rehovot after Pesach.
Yes, Dikla told me to buy footsie-pants for FF to keep him from yanking his socks off and wandering around the cold tile in bare feet, and yes, I bought them, and yes, they're called gatkes.
Yes, BSM chose to circumvent my temporary ban on any and all "why" questions by using the direct translation from Hebrew and now says "for what" instead.
Yes, we visited the Kornbluths in Dimona, and took the bus, and nobody vomited or had to pee or screamed for two-and-a-half hours straight.
Yes, and yes, and yes.
All of this I meant to blog, and more.
But this morning I moved a dead cat from our yard to the dumpster.
And that, it seems, is what it takes for me to blog again.
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