So, what’s news?

Posted by: ann on: 18 June 2008

• In: boaz & moriah | books | israel | poetry | thoughts | vincent and verse
• 41 Comments

I guess I have been keeping a fairly low profile lately and, gosh, it’s been a whole month since I last posted, so what’s been going on since then that’s kept me away from blogdom. I have lurked and commented here and there a little… I mean what a weekend to discover Five Minutes Mr Welles was on YouTube; the only piece of Vincent D’Onofrio that we thought was beyond our reach and never in our wildest dreams that we, his loyal fans, would ever get to watch. Of course a DVD wouldn’t actually go amiss. Still this caused quite a stir in the lives of the V-Vixons. I won’t copy it again here or even review it, yet! It’s linked for anyone who hasn’t seen it elsewhere. Whoever posted it has done it in the name of the man himself. Thank you whoever you are, especially if it’s you Vincent sweetheart, but if it’s not you dear Vincent, then shame on the person who is using your name… you’re naughty but nice!

Oh and wasn’t PURGATORY absolutely wonderful. Poor Bobby Bobby. I know it’s all been said elsewhere, but I still had to get my tuppence worth in.

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At the playground

Boaz at the Zoo

My trip to Israel was fantastic; I had a wonderful time with the children, they were an absolute joy. I also managed to catch up with a number of people, friends and business, but mostly chilling out with the babies. The day following Shavuot Jon and Bridgitte had to go to work and Moriah’s nursery was open, but Boaz had the day off, so it was quality time with gwandma. We were going to the zoo, just the two of us… he was so excited; children just know when they’re gonna be well and truly spoilt and get lots and lotsa treats. His only disappointment was the bus… it didn’t show up, which meant we had to hitch a ride. It kinda reminded me nostalgically of my single days tramping through the country and since everyone does it, it didn’t bother me now either. As much as Boaz had, to quote him, “the best day ever,” he was also woefully saying to his daddy, “the bus didn’t come, aba, the bus didn’t come.”

I am trying to teach my darling grandson English. It’s not because he only speaks Ivrit; he’s bilingual, BUT he speaks with a New York accent. Bob the Builder is Baab and water is waaarter and bath is baaaarth. He giggles when he mimics me… even my son has lost his English accent. He told me that someone he knew some years back from London asked if he was at the swimming pool a couple of weeks earlier. She said it looked like you with these two gorgeous blonde children, then you opened your mouth and I thought it was an American.

Poor Moriah got poorly whilst I was there and within a day or two I was coughing away and I’d lost my voice; luckily I didn’t feel poorly until, yeah, I got home. I waited a couple of hours at the quack for an emergency appointment and, without hesitation, he prescribed me horse pill sized antibiotics. I only have two days of them left and my throat is sorer than ever, I’m coughing much the same and my voice is still barely audible… although some say I sound sexy… huh!!!! Actually I’m supposed to be calling some new guy, but I don’t want to give him the wrong impression, although, hmmmm…. maybe I should. I was toying with calling him tonight, but I’ve been out all day and now it’s too late to call… shucks! Still, as they say, tomorrow is another day!

So where have I been all day? Yes, Jamie and Lucy moved flats (apartments) today, so Lucy’s mum and aunt and I were busy unpacking boxes and, as exhausting and backbreaking as it all was, we really got on with it and helped them break the back of it all. They’ve moved from a small two-bedder in Borehamwood, to a really spacious three-bedder in a beautiful tree-lined street in Barnet, for any of you Londoners who know the area. They say location location location is everything, well this really is a lovely lovely spot.

Me being poorly put me on a massive guilt trip because the day I came home mother was going into hospital for tests and the next day I was gonna collect her and bring her to recover chez moi. Of course that was not gonna happen… not a good idea at all. And I had to put the rest of the family off from coming for Friday night dinner… guilt trip numero deux, but I shall make it up to them this week.

Following me freaking out about my brother and his heart surgery, before I went away I saw a cardiologist and had an assortment of tests, the most conclusive one being a 64 multislice scan. Between us Ray and I have inherited assorted things from our folks and I know that many years ago, in my prime, I had my womanhood removed just as my ma had… well of course my bro wasn’t gonna cop that one. However when she underwent open-heart surgery about 11 years ago I dreaded the worst and have popped preventative medication to avoid the ‘like mother like daughter‘ scenario again. Yesterday I got the results. You know i have to thank my GP, because without being overdramatic, his foresight has saved me surgery. There is evidence of coronary heart disease which we had suspected, genes and all that, but with aggressive doses of some relatively new medication, my lovely heart guy believes it can be successfully treated that way. Phew!!!!! I can’t tell you how relieved I am and I’m pleased to report that Ray is recovering brilliantly.

In the meantime I have signed up for a new Jewish learning course… something I used to do fairly regularly until I got kinda lazy lumpy and lethargic. The first lecture was Monday and it felt good to be stimulating my mind again. Having said that I’ve been quite the bookworm too. Has anyone read Ian McEwan’s Atonement? This was chosen by my bookclub a few months ago. I had tried to read it a couple of years earlier and it became a chore to read; I was simply not enjoying it. It was the story I didn’t like, not Ian McEwan’s excellent writing skill. I confessed as such at the meeting, but all my friends raved about the book and they must’ve discussed it for a good couple of hours. I was stunned, so, I thought I’d give it another try and see what I’d missed. I read it… every single word. I still didn’t like it! DOH!

I managed to dodge the Jane Eyre meeting… thank goodness! I used to love the classics, but I really have to be in the right frame of mind to pick one up these days. However I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed Deborah Moggach’s These Foolish Things and 50/50 enjoyed/got irritated by Danny Scheinmann’s Random Acts of Heroic Love. I’m not sure if I ever mentioned Salmon Fishing in the Yemen by Paul Torday… loved it, loved it, loved it! The next book on the list is Phillipa Gregory’s The Other Boleyn Girl… I felt sure I had it sitting on my bookcase, but it seems to be other Boleyn books. For quick bursts I’ve been dipping into Jeffrey Deaver’s second book of short stories… perfect for flying!

I’m sure I had some other nonsense to tell you, but if I don’t write it down, I don’t remember. Probably about the wedding… OY YA YOY!!!!! They say, “it’ll be alright on the night” – it had better be, this wedding is costing more even as I skip over the keys. The shekel is amazingly strong at the moment… last year we got over 8 to the pound and this year only 6, which means the wedding, by default, is automatically 25% more expensive, and the budget was higher this time round anyway… DOUBLE OY YA YOY!!!! It has been suggested by some that I tell the ex (he is the bride’s father after all) but I know him too well… he will stick to his budget and say tough… TREBLE OY YA YOY!!!!! There may be some news on the dress front by the time I next get round to posting, but, don’t hold your breath. I just can’t seem to get my head round it even though I spent most of the morning emailing the wedding planner backwards and forwards. The wedding is only 12 weeks away… we travel in 11 weeks… HELP!

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Guilt

torn this way, torn that
so many needs to please
but at what cost

whose needs
precede the one before
when one has to be last

the goalposts move
fine line to cross
the price is high

between right and wrong
and risk of loss
guilt is hard to bear

you can’t be there
you cannot share
every part of you

not with everyone you love
no matter how much you do
it’s never enough

there must an art
to all this stuff
before it tears your heart apart

and there’s nothing left
for anyone
not even you

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