Six Sentence Story - Swing

 

click here to read all the entries!

 

 generously hosted by Denise Farley of GirlieOnTheEdge

 

every week that I participate in a certain blog hop, I hope the members of that community will swing by to read and comment on my contribution, as I do theirs.  

I can see that they're reading my posts, and commenting on each other's entries while offering mine the silent treatment, leaving me with a momentarily bitter taste in my mouth - like they're hoping that if they ignore me, I'll go away.  

the sting of their betrayal shows how frail their sensitivities are, as they seem to lack the curiosity to engage with my subject matter, torn as it is from recent headlines.  

I grow restless over their silence, and my confidence would take a massive hit if I hadn't learned to strip myself of the doubts planted by others hiding behind a facade of righteousness, judging me from wherever they are in the world.  

I want to dare them to come to where I am, and learn the truth for themselves, but ultimately I don't bother with such petty foolishness.  

I will continue as I began; writing for me.  

*I wrote this on Sunday using the prompt words for The Sunday Whirl, and wanted to include it here too, so imagine my surprise when it turned out to be exactly six sentences!  I was planning on having to do some editing, but all it needed was for me to add the prompt word in a spot where it fit, and voila!  some of the folks over at the Whirl told me that the process of using a WordPress/Google account to comment on Blogger is cumbersome and problematic, so I took a look at my settings to see if there was anything on my end that was causing an issue, and there doesn't seem to be.  so, I guess the Universe only wants me hear from people who are willing to go the extra mile.  😉  

Selah ~

 

Wordle 748

 

click here to read all the whirls!

 

generously hosted by Brenda Warren

 

 curiosity  restless  sting  hit  facade  hope  bitter  torn  strip  frail  massive  doubts

 

every week that I participate in a certain blog hop, I hope the members of that community will read and comment on my contribution, as I do theirs.  I can see that they're reading my posts, and commenting on each other's entries while offering mine the silent treatment, leaving me with a momentarily bitter taste in my mouth - like they're hoping that if they ignore me, I'll go away.  the sting of their betrayal shows how frail their sensitivities are, as they seem to lack the curiosity to engage with my subject matter, torn as it is from recent headlines.  I grow restless over their silence, and my confidence would take a massive hit if I hadn't learned to strip myself of the doubts planted by others hiding behind a facade of righteousness, judging me from wherever they are in the world.  I want to dare them to come to where I am, and learn the truth for themselves, but ultimately I don't bother with such petty foolishness.  I will continue as I began; writing for me.  

Selah ~

 

Wordle 747

click here to read all of this week's contributions

 

The Sunday Whirl is graciously hosted by Brenda Warren, and this week's words are:

 

 

 

still rattling hunch chains packages crunch life scan lose fits grasping colony

 

I have a hunch that the majority of the people still rattling their angry chains about events currently happening in Western Asia don't have ancestors who heard the crunch of Nazi boots in the streets they lived in, or suffered under the Islamic regime all their lives, where women are grasping towards a life that doesn't require them to dress like packages.  can you even begin to imagine being forced as a child to submit to a marriage to an old man or a terrorists, or be permanently scarred and possibly die in an acid attack - or endure the pain of surviving one?  what about the many people who went out in the streets to protest, even though they knew they may lose an eye for demanding justice and peace from their government?  a quick scan of who reads and comments on the various blogs/bloggers that participate in this writing challenge reveals a small colony of folks who are against 'war' in general (as am I), yet don't understand the wider implications of what military action in this region means for them in their safe little homes thousands of miles away.  now, I'm not pointing fingers, but, if the shoe fits...  I see a lot of anger on social media at the way ICE is operating, and opposition to the loss of many social safety nets for veterans and folks who live on the lower end of the 'socioeconomic scale', but would that online anger be seen in the streets if the consequences were the loss of an eye or an acid bath?  how many LGBTQAI+ folks would be waving their anti-American flags if it meant they would end their lives in a public hanging?  I don't enjoy sitting in the bomb shelter with my neighbors, but I do want to see more support behind ending the regime that targets both the country I grew up in, and the one I now live in (and many others around the globe, as well).  you can hate your government and what it does and still want there to be peace and justice in the world for all.

 

  

Acid Attack Victims Need Love and Compassion

 

Wordle 746 - When the Sirens Blare

why not?  I've always been a glutton for punishment.  click here to read all the contributions, and Make Sure To Leave A Comment to let people know you've enjoyed their work - even if you didn't.  I leave a comment on everyone's posts (even if they have an horrifically appropriative name for their blog and double down on their racism when you point it out).

 

 

 

shelter step rocks rose settle tremble edge left flesh scrap ghost messy

 

rushing down the 43 steps from my apartment (twice while writing this post) into the bomb shelter with my neighbors - more for those on the higher floors - as the air trembles with explosions above us, we settle into our places.  the three Russian ladies and the guy I assume is one of their sons against the far wall, their poor dog on its leash at their feet, or under their chairs when more than the usual number of unruly children are locked in with us.  one of their elders can't even make it down the stairs in the minute and a half we have to get there and seal the door shut, so she sits on a chair in the hallway outside of their apartment.  also in the hallway is Elena (when she's awake), the elderly woman who lives in the apartment across from me - her personal care worker runs down to the shelter with the rest of us.  the Ethiopians (mostly a pile of unruly children as schools are closed during these times of frequent bombings, whose parents are all essential workers) on the dilapidated old couch on the adjacent wall; the boys absorbed in the video games and social media reels on their phones; the girls chattering away loudly (causing the traumatized dog to slink under her owner's chair rather than lay on the blanket she puts down for her) and posturing in the full length mirror, while slapping and teasing each other by snatching phones from hands and snapping pictures; the littlest boy (too young for a phone of his own) playing with a yellow balloon that makes the terrified dog bark when it comes too close, a sound that hits the eardrums like rocks against metal reverberating uncomfortably in the enclosed concrete space that is already messy with echoes.  on the far wall is where the people who came in from the street stand (no chairs for them) because even though this shelter is in our building, our regularly locked front door is thrown open during emergencies to accommodate our neighbors (we're all neighbors here).  And me, settling down on the only scrap chair left, in the far corner by the barely hidden toilet at the edge of the shelter, just right for a fleshed ghost such as myself what rose from who knows where, or why - the only Israeli/American in the building, and quite possibly the neighborhood.

 

 

Soups Old and New (and some challah!)

written October 26, 2024 ~

not every dish is going to be a success, and that's ok.  I was whining to my friend that I didn't have a whole chicken for my soup this week, and she suggested I use the chicken breast I had instead.  she said she does it all the time and the result is the same...so I tried it.  it wasn't good.  and not only did the soup itself fall flat, I fell asleep before it was cool enough to cover fully and put in the fridge/freezer, so when I woke up this morning, I quickly realized I had left it out on the counter overnight, uncovered, and now I was going to have to pour it down the drain.  quelle horreur!  

 

 

luckily, I had one serving of my last batch of soup left in the freezer, so for breakfast, there was one serving of delicious ancestor-approved chicken broth to dip my challah in...the last of the round loaves I baked for the holiday season (Rosh Hashanah through Simchat Torah).  it was SO good, and I prayed over it, assuring myself it was a magical elixir pouring into my body filled with healing strength and loving goodness.  its power grows exponentially when the homemade challah and the homemade soup and are eaten together - it's a melody of love wrapped in flavor and texture, carried through generations.  I feel cared for while I indulge in them, warm and cozy when I'm done.

 

I had planned to do some major self-care today, as I started a new job this week and need both the rest, and the space to get used to a new schedule.  it's a bit frustrating, as I was hoping to be on a plane to Israel by now, but I guess it's not my time yet.  I've submitted all my documentation and am waiting for an interview.  I was getting ready to sell my car and sign the apartment over to my son, so I wasn't trying all that hard to get a job because I was hoping to be looking for work in a new country.  but as the weeks began to pass with no money coming in, I HAD to take the first job I was offered, and now I not only need my car, I need it to have good winter tires and a tune up.  

while I'm grateful for the additional time to get ready for an overseas move, I wasn't planning on being in the Northeast for the winter, so I need to shift my perspective a bit from my environment prospectively getting warmer to it getting colder, instead.  and there appear to be one or two more of those unexpected obstacles to navigate that you don't see coming and definitely don't need, but it's yet another opportunity to show others what grace looks like as a response to petty manipulations.  we'll see.  I'll get out of here with everything I need when the time comes.

in any case, one of the ways I planned to care for myself is to try a new-to-me recipe which I will share as an offering to you and yours at the close of Jewish Holiday Season, and the beginning of 'spooky season' as the white folks are calling Halloween and Samhain these days.  

two weeks later ~

 

the water was off overnight and most of the day, so I wasn't able to make my weekly soup in time for Shabbat, but I was mostly making it in the service of the new-to-me soup I'm trying this week - Marak Katom, 'orange soup' in Hebrew.  but no worries, it's back on now, and I'm playing catch-up in my kitchen.  it was a weird week - I got fired from my NEW job for responding to the question "what makes you feel unsafe at work" with "my co-workers wearing keffiyehs and shouting to free a place that never existed" which is both problematic and a Whole Can of Conspiracy Worms so I'll save it for another post.  I'm rightfully feeling all kinds of feels, and I called some friends to yell and cry and laugh about it, which was helpful...but I need soup.  hearty, homemade, happy soup.

 

several hours later ~

 

the chicken soup is done and it's amazing.  tomorrow I'll make the orange soup.

the next day ~

 

the Marak Katom is So Good - gonna eat it with grilled cheese sandwiches all week!  the recipe is from Sivan's Kitchen; check her out on Instagram, I love her content (she served hers in a pumpkin)!

recipe:

1 medium butternut squash

3 medium sweet potatoes

4-5 peeled carrots

large red onion

2 whole heads of garlic

7 cups chicken stock

olive oil

salt, pepper

pumpkin seeds and cinnamon for garnish (optional)

 preheat the oven to 400º.  cut the veggies in half (removing squash seeds); drizzle with oil, salt & pepper, and place face down on a parchment covered baking sheet (wrap garlic in foil); roast one hour.  scoop squash innards into soup pot, add carrot & onion, squeeze the garlic into the pot, add the chicken stock, and simmer.  puree until creamy, and it's done!

so sick of white america

written November 17, 2020 ~

I could have gone to Mavis Discount Tire in Kingston on Saturday for two new tires, but I wanted to wait until Monday to give Walt (my regular mechanic) a chance to do the work, because I prefer to give my money to small local businesses rather than large corporations.  

I could have driven the 30 minutes into Kingston to sit in Mavis' heated waiting area (in a comfortable chair) while they worked on my car instead of having to walk a mile up the road in the cold to the closest country store (and back), where the only place to sit is outside, since their small dining area is closed due to the pandemic.  

I could have paid Mavis $150 to do the work instead of the $200 Walt charged me, because they can afford to drop their prices (several times) in order to appease me because I'm poor, and tires are expensive.  

I could have made an appointment with Mavis so I knew how long the work would take, and therefore have a window within which to schedule my day, but I chose to drop my car off with Walt at 9:30am, who still didn't have the work done by 11:30am after I had walked the mile to the country store, drank a cup of hot chocolate, walked around and looked at all the items for sale to kill time before walking over to the Dollar General to do the same, then walking the mile back to Walt's where all he'd managed to do was get my car up on the lift.  

if I'd gone to Mavis, the work would have been done in less than the two hours it took Walt to get my car up on the lift, after which I still had to stand around outside for at least 30 more minutes before he finally offered for me to sit in his office and read his newspaper while he and his buddies loudly spouted their pro-fascist political agendas and blamed 'those Jews' in the government for 'stealing' the election for Biden citing the "damn kids who have never worked a day in their lives and think they're so smart to have made up that mail-in voting thing" in order to overthrow their naked emperor.  

if I had gone to Mavis, I wouldn't have had to storm back out into the cold to avoid having to hear any more of it.  

when Walt presented me with bill, I looked him dead in the eye when I told him I would be paying it with my hard-working Jewish 16 year old's card, because I've been out of work for months due to his naked emperor's poor pandemic response that now has us in a third wave of hospitalizations and deaths (I was the only one in or around the shop wearing a mask, including the cop who stopped in), and that he might want to check to make sure there wasn't a Jew sitting in his office the next time he chose to spew his racist hatred.  

if I had gone to Mavis, I wouldn't now be sitting here regretting every single dollar I ever paid Walt, which is a considerable amount given the number of years I've been patronizing him, and wondering if I should simply have asked him to remove the tires, refund our money, and get Mavis to do the work (again) after all.  

would it have bothered me as much if I didn't just email my son's English teacher yesterday to address his use of the word "gyp" in a story he was telling the class?  or the woman in the fitness group who deleted me when I told her that her 'joke' about threatening to sell her children to the 'Gypsies' when they didn't do what she said wasn't in any way funny to someone like myself, whose own father was kidnapped from his Romani mother (Romani people don't steal children - in Europe, they often have their own children stolen from them by various government agencies for little to no reason other than being Roma)?  yes...yes it would.  

even as a provisional white person (acceptable to whites until they find out I'm a Romani Jew), it's a rare day that passes without some form of attack on my ethnicity/tribal affiliation/historic homeland (I think of myself more as a cultural Israeli/genetic member of the tribe of Judah than as a religious Jew).  when will this madness end?

Aliyah-versary

 y'all, my artistic practice has been all pent up inside of me for most of a year now, and it's making me sad and angry.  I stare at the plastic bin filled with the art supplies I deemed too important to part with and dream about things I left behind, like the driftwood I collected from the Esopus River that came to live in a wicker basket woven by my son during a homeschool workshop.  I miss my pile of fabric and bags of yarn, yet don't write in my journal, blog, knit, or sew.  I did start a collage and immediately realized I didn't have any glue, so it's been on hold until I had the cash to buy the glue, and now that I have it, it's been sitting on the table waiting for me to find the time to use it.  and I can't even tell you how much I want to order loops to weave potholders with, but I simply can't buy another thing other than rent, electricity, and food until my finances begin to stabilize, which I don't see happening any time soon as I can't seem to find a job at which I can succeed.  

I've been here in Israel for a whole year now, and I'm living the same life I've lived everywhere I've been - in a small apartment, hopping from one relatively unskilled low-wage job to another, and existing paycheck to paycheck.  the only difference is that I have no people here, so it's extra lonely, and I don't speak/understand the language all that well.  I'm still living out of my suitcases and surrounded by unopened boxes of chachkis and decor that I have no place to display or store, and I'd really love to begin the process of furnishing my tiny space so that it can feel slightly less...temporary?  like I'm not just idling here, waiting for my real life to begin?  I want to feel more settled and comfortable so I can relax.  I did buy a bookshelf, which helped a bit, and I was hoping to invest in a clothes rack with my next paycheck, but...it's just going to have to wait.  

the first job I landed, a few months after I got here, was as an assistant in a 'gan', which is like kindergarten but the kids were younger, and my role was to help a little English boy who barely spoke a word of Hebrew to fit in and get along well enough to start learning.  when the school year ended in June I stayed on for 'keetanah' during July, which is sort of like summer camp, though I didn't see much difference in the way we operated - it was just another month at the gan.  then it turned out that all public childcare activities in Israel cease during August, so I scrambled to get another job quickly as not to be unemployed.  so I worked as a 'mitapelet' - a caregiver - for an English woman in her 80's, but it was only 21 hours a week and paid less than the gan, which I soon realized wasn't going to cover my rent, let alone anything else.  the agency I worked for told me I could add more clients and get more hours, but they didn't have any clients who needed me in the afternoons, as my main person claimed all my morning hours.  the fact was that the lady I was working for was going to need a live-in caregiver soon enough, so I'd be out of the job anyway, and to be honest, nice as she and her family were, it wasn't for me.  

so I got a job at another gan during September and October, but it didn't work out because the person I worked with didn't like me, and told the owner it was me or her, and seeing as how she had been there for 3 years, I was let go.  for the first two weeks of November I ran around to job agencies, interviews, and job fairs, and was quickly employed with a telemarketing company selling visas and job platforms to people who want to immigrate to Canada and the US.  while I'd worked in sales before - door to door, on the phone, and in art galleries - I neither enjoyed, nor did well at it, and this was no different.  I'd much rather be weaving potholder sets to sell at craft markets along with other cool arty things I enjoy making, but I don't have the money to live on while building up a business at the moment.  and I don't understand Hebrew well enough to go out on my own yet, anyway - the laws here are fairly particular, and I'm not currently equipped to start dealing with them.  back in the US, I was working in peer support in the homeless shelter system, which paid a livable wage - here in Israel, that's mostly a volunteer position.  I thought I had gotten lucky when the office of immigration here recently invited me to an advanced language class for social workers, but I chose to drop out of after three classes because it was above my current level of understanding, then the class was cancelled due to low enrollment.

adaptable as I am, it's hard for me to live in a city, even one I've loved all my life.  I do still hope that in the coming years I manage to find myself in a different kind of community - one that feeds my soul more.  I hope I can manage to find myself in a more rural area, doing a job I can believe in, though I realize I have a great deal of building to do to get there, and I'm not sure I'll survive to see that day.  I did manage to connect with a social worker who helped me get an appointment with a dental hygienist, something I've been trying to accomplish since a month or so after I got here and hadn't succeeded with yet.  I've had limited success in dealing with the health care system in general, and find it more frustrating than supportive (again - language barrier).  I still haven't quite managed to figure out the pharmacy though I do seem to have somehow been getting my prescription medication more regularly.  they'd like me to do more tests, see more specialists, and take more drugs but I'm resistant, so they have me marked down as 'low compliance' on my paperwork which I find hysterical, insulting, and problematic.  I mean, I think I have a right to have as strong a say in my own healthcare as my doctors, and screw them if they think I'm going to follow them blindly down paths that don't feel good to me.

I'd like - along with living in a more rural environment because I think they go hand in hand - to find where all the herbalists and natural healers are around here.  like, where is the alternative community?  skate punks, rock and rollers, musicians and magic makers?  where are my people?  I was recently contacted by a tarot group I used to belong to back when we were all in covid lockdown and it's one of the many things reminding me that all my little altar items that help me feel grounded, protected, and supported are all still boxed up waiting to have a place to call home.  and while the possible resurgence of the tarot group may be fun, they're all in the States and so the meetings will be via zoom at 2am for me.  and who knows how any of the people in that group feel about Jews and/or Israel?  does it matter?  should it?  when or how would it come up?  I guess we'll just have to see.

I did come across a women's group that seems to do some deep work around ancient Jewish matriarchs, our mothers from the bible stories, and I'd love to go experience one of their circles, but it's yet another thing I need to feel more confident in my language skills to navigate in a way that feels more connecting than frustrating.  if I could even afford to attend one of the workshops and manage to figure out how to get to the place where the events are held, I'm sure it will be another one of those moments of freedom and opening that reminds me how everything happens just the way it's supposed to, and we all get where we're meant to go...eventually.  there is some cosmic way that my years of wandering in and out of prosperity through various locales and cultures of academia and wage slavery while recording my journey in writings, sketches, crafts, jewelry, sacred objects, ritual spaces, photography, collage, and digital images will culminate in a series of writing workshops where people work together finding the many ways our stories are holy and how sharing them can uplift us all - I just haven't found it yet.

most days I just want to give up, lie down, and die already.  what Earthly good am I doing?  I've spent the last week and a half - including my birthday - basically laying in bed, watching old tv shows on pirate websites, ignoring the fact that I probably won't have enough money to cover my rent next month, let alone pay the bills or buy food.  and what will I do then?  will I be able to afford a storage space for my belongings, or to hire help to get them there?  and how will it be to attempt to survive on the streets, here?  how will my lack of ability to afford my prescription medication affect my health?  especially if I can't control what I'm eating, or when?  I'll guess I'll find out soon enough.  maybe I will die, then, so I guess I'll get what I want.  or maybe I'll just keep on living in more and more desperate circumstances for many more years until I do finally enjoy the sweet release of death, having experienced several more levels of hell before I get there.  like an 'if I think it's bad now, just wait and see how bad it can get' sort of scenario.

oh well.  at least I tried.  I guess... 

it hasn't been a great year, and I don't feel as if I've 'ascended' or 'risen' in any sense of the word.  sure, I'm in Israel, but it hasn't done a damn thing for me other than shown me that no matter how much I try to be part of a community and work towards the uplifting of said community, I'm just not really welcome, wanted, or needed.  story of my life, considering my mother wasn't really on board with having me.  I wonder what my soul journeyed here for, then?  why would it pick such a miserable and pathetic path for itself?  I hope I figure it out, because I definitely don't want to ride this ride again.  I can't believe my purpose here was to make another human with the same doubts and fears I have, who will end up in even worse circumstances than me unless he can figure out some way to find joy and happiness in his own life.  if not, than I will have failed in that, too.  and that would be the worst fail of all my many fails, because he didn't ask for it, and certainly doesn't deserve it.

what manner of monster am I? 

Shabbat Summer Solstice Shalom

today feels important.  it needs marking, attention paid to it.  there hasn't been any community for me around solstices and equinoxes in years, and as such, it's been harder to hold on to as a social holiday.  like everything else we eventually shed, it seems to be the rituals and traditions we manage to keep close that end up defining us.  or maybe just me.

I had wanted to make a point of being out on the meerpeset at around 8, 8:30 this morning to adjust the rosemary so it was right where the sun first touches the ground to mark the clock of my current habitat, but my sleep schedule has been wonky due to alarms and bomb shelter runs, so I was up around 3 or 4 this morning, but fell back asleep until around 10.  no worries, I can catch that tomorrow.  it's just about noon, though, so I want to see what I can still do today.  I've had some ideas, so I thought I'd share.

 

 

 

my first thought for the day is usually 'bonfires', and while I don't have a space to build and burn a bonfire, I can do a little something something with candles.  god help me, but instagram was where I went first...no, that's not true...I did an internet search of 'summer solstice rituals' and was quickly unsatisfied with the results and remembered that on insta, one can find these cute graphics that are excellent quick reference guides.  I looked up @animamundi first, and will share their info-square below, but @thewitchoftheforest was more what I wanted, so I shared hers first.  

I haven't unpacked any of my crystals or stones because I simply have nowhere to put them at the moment.  there's still no furniture, and the damn table I was so happy about in my last post collapsed already, so I have even LESS space to put anything.  so frustrating.  anyway...the one rose quartz that I think I can access is a little ball at the end of a silver hair stick, and as silly as it may be to wear 'fancy jewelry' to sit around the house and maybe mop the floors, maybe it's important, too.  and I'm doing a small ritual with some storm water, honey, lemons, ginger, turmeric, candles, grapes, and rosemary, and crowning myself with the fancy silver hair stick for the solstice (even though gold would be more appropriate).

  

 

the few things I do have in a special dish on what is usually my altar came from the sea, so they don't feel like the right things to put out in the noonday sun.  I will incorporate them into whatever I've gotten up to when the moon is overhead.  for now, while my ritual items are baking out in the Israeli sun, I'm cooking a nourishing meal for my Sabbath Bride.  I was napping when She got here, tired from my day of babysitting a new pair of kiddos.  they were adorable, and exhausting, and after I got home, I just zoned out for awhile until the alerts went off right around dinner time...so it was down to the bomb shelter, after which I went straight to bed in case we were in for a busy night.  so when Shabbat arrived, She just slipped into the bed with me, and inhabited my dreams.  She didn't mind that I didn't light the candles, say the prayers, or fix a meal.  and She helped me figure out how to honor the Solstice by creating a simple altar from what I had.

 

 

 

 

on the kitchen counter, there was some rosemary that was drying in a glass dish, and I filled the dish with water and put it out on the altar as well.  then I started preparing the meal.  it turned out that I had bought a different kind of chicken than I thought, so I put all of it (a pound and a half?) in a pot with some olive oil, and sprinkled it liberally with a specialty salt mix, pepper, paprika, turmeric, oregano, and parsley and let it cook through.  I was reminded of when I was a kid, and liked to mix up various substances in the bathroom with playful joy, and hoped it would turn out ok.  once it was cooked, I threw in some carrots, celery, and garlic, then poured in a packet of chicken noodle soup I had mixed with water in a bowl, and let it simmer while I made a big salad to go with it the stew when it was done.  when the salad was ready I served up a bowl of stew, and ate it in front of the altar, followed by the salad.  they were both delicious, and my Bride is pleased. 

 

 

since it's the Solstice, Shabbat can stay later than any other day during the year, and I'm taking advantage of that by not worrying about 'getting everything done' before sundown.  my Shabbat Bride knows I'm currently messy and struggling, and She's also willing to put up with me while I figure it all out.  even if She doesn't get to stay for my whole ritual, She will still be part of it, and will be honored by it.  time is relative, and an extra soul does as an extra soul chooses.  the bathroom floor will get mopped eventually, the day needs magick.  so, it's time to bring in the fruits and things that have been charging all day in the sun. 

I skimmed off the top layer of honey and stirred it into the rosemary water, where I also squeezed in the juice of the two lemon halves.  the whole lemon went back in the fridge for tea later, along with the grapes (not for tea, for eating).  the lemon seeds were planted, and the ginger and turmeric were sliced up to dry for tea; the sun-charged storm water was added to the rosemary/honey/lemon wash.  after a nice rest out on the meerpeset (with an ice pack) I caught a buzz before getting ready for that purifying shower I've been looking forward to all day.

 

rosemary snowglobe!

 

 

 

in the shower, I anointed my third eye, throat, heart, solar plexus, sex, and the base of my spine with my Solstice solar rosemary lemon storm elixir, then poured some of the liquid down my front and back.  it felt invigorating and smelled wonderful!  after my shower, I put what was left of the ritual water back in a jar, lit my candles, and prayed over my bread and grapes.  then Shabbat left, and I offered Her a dark chocolate square with orange bits for the road, which She gladly accepted.  I didn't end up finding the moon before I slept again; I think she might have been a very slim crescent in the very early hours of the morning, and it's a bit cloudier than usual...we'll see. 

 R E D   A L E R T

  

 

ugh.  bad hit in Tel Aviv.  no bueno.  

 

 

well, I didn't catch the moon last night, but I did catch the sun this morning, and it looks like the rosemary is in just the right spot.  I shifted it to the left about 3/4 of an inch because I'm particular, but that is the spot where the sun first hits my meerpeset on the (morning after the) Summer Solstice.  and the ginger and turmeric are drying, and I made a delicious brunch from last night's chicken and salad.  since the war seems to be escalating slightly, and Homefront Command has tightened the restrictions again, I don't think I'll be going anywhere today, but as always - we'll see. 

 

 

enough cleaning got done for it to feel like I did something, and I may do more, if I don't fall asleep first.  as much as I want to repair or replace my table, now I'm fixated on getting a clothes rack so I can hang up my shirts and dresses already.  I'm tired of the suitcases and want to feel more like I live here.  everything costs, though, and I haven't been working due to the conflict/s.  all I can do is take care of myself and see that I'm being nourished on as many levels as possible.  remembering to visit with the Shabbat Bride on this Summer Solstice is one way to support my spiritual, emotional, physical, and mental health.  

 

  

  

 

 

I flipped the mattress, too, so I'm looking forward to taking another nap here, soon - though I'm also trying to stay active so as not to get completely out of whack with time and schedules.  I'm hoping things go back to 'normal' quickly.  Blessed Solstice, welcome to the dark half of the year, and as those of us in the Northern Hemisphere swelter through summer's heat, remember that the wheel is turning towards autumn, and let your mind rest briefly on what's to come, and how to plan for it, as far as we can plan for anything.  much love ~