Day 40 (incubation)

In Jewish thought, forty is an incubation period. Hence the flood of 40 days and nights, the 40 years that the Jews spent in the desert, the 40 days Moshe spent on Sinai, 40 se'ah (unit of volume) of water in a mikvah. I have now spent 40 days living on a permanent basis in Israel. This is a Big Deal.

I didn't really do anything special to celebrate, of course. The Husbinator and I took care of banking stuff in Beit Shean: hopefully automatic bill pay for our health care will be activated within the next two weeks. As long as we were out together, we walked around and shopped a bit before heading back. (Of course I had to sing אני הולך בבית שאן repeatedly as we walked. Thanks, Abbs! And yes, I know the song is really "I'm walking TO Beit Shean," but that's too far for me. I just walk IN Beit Shean.) Oh, the freedom! Oh, the joy of finding (good) toothbrushes for under a dollar apiece!

Speaking of travelling to Beit Shean, I think I misinterpreted the story of The Boy and the Golf Cart on Day 6. There is no Hebrew word with the connotation of the English hitchhike. In Israel, even if you're begging a ride with a stranger on the side of the road, you're still "hitching a ride" rather than "hitchhiking." Subtle, but I think I'm right.

Still speaking of tremping (the Hebrew word for hitching a ride) and Beit Shean, John told The Husbinator to write a sign with the name of our kibbutz when tremping back from Beit Shean. This is excellent advice: everyone who drove by us read our sign, and we ended up getting a ride with a man going to pick up his wife from the kibbutz, where she had been visiting her "kibbutz family" from 30 years ago.

I spoke with Paz again today. As per Ozzie's advice, since Paz still seemed very uncomfortable hiring me, I suggested that we start on a temporary basis: don't fill out any papers or anything, just let me work for a few days and we'll see how everyone feels. I also decided to directly address the fact that I'm a woman asking to work in an all-male group. He claimed it's not really an issue, but I think it was a useful conversation, anyway.

When I spoke with my husband, the recruiter, about the interview, he finally convinced me to talk to the computer guy on the kibbutz to see if I can work with him. Sigh. Job-seeking is less than fun.

In other news, El Babe-O is in the teeth of teething. as it were. He has a huge whitish lump where he will, please G-d, soon have a lower right incisor. The poor kid is not miserable, but when I gave him a frozen teether, this evening, he started crying: it's too hard for his poor tender gums, so I gave him a silicone spatula, which was much better.

More cheerful El Babe-O reports include the fact that he has very nearly mastered waving and clapping. He will often wave if you wave or say "Hi" and clap if you clap or say "Yay." Next project will be teaching him to give high-fives.