<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855</id><updated>2011-07-07T19:53:21.563-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Through Our Eyes</title><subtitle type='html'>Inspired by the ancient proverb "The Eyes are the Window to the Soul" and the Hebrew word, Neshama (Soul), I created this photoblog to share with friends and family.

Through Our Eyes is our way of sharing glimpses of our joy, our fun, our getting older, and simply, our life, with those we care about and love.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-1134074487704668152</id><published>2009-05-17T21:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T21:48:24.600-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Conversation with Noah, Natalie and David...in the Car, of Course.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;N2: Stop that, you're annoying me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;N1: Stop what? I'm not doing anything.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;N2: Yes you are! You just moved your drink closer to me and I don't like that!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;N1: I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't do anything.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dad: You know you did something. Your brother has asked you to stop and has told you what he doesn't like about your actions. You need to respect that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;N:1 I didn't do anything.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;N:2 Yes you did!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dad: Look, just ignore her; she's trying to get your goat.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;N:2 Goat? I don't even have a goat! How can she be trying to get my goat?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;N:1 Goat? That's hilarious! What am I going to do with a goat?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dad: (shakes his head) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-1134074487704668152?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/1134074487704668152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=1134074487704668152&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/1134074487704668152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/1134074487704668152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2009/05/conversation-with-noah-natalie-and.html' title='A Conversation with Noah, Natalie and David...in the Car, of Course.'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-2324199638917694907</id><published>2009-01-19T01:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T01:37:46.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'>25 Random Things About Me</title><content type='html'>A blogging friend of mine tagged me for this - so in no particular order here it is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Random thoughts - I'm all about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Instead of writing this about myself, I asked my friends and family to 'fess up and offer their insight. My brother said I was lazy, hence the reason why I asked others to write it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I was featured in a news story in the Orlando Sentinel when I was 2 years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. After being teased that I had a boy's name (Jamie), I changed the spelling of my name to be just like the Bionic Woman - Jaime Sommers. I was 8 years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I've have driven across the US four times (not including road trips up and down the east coast) and have lived in over 10 states, including Alaska.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I can sing the names of all 50 states in alphabetical order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I od'd on orange flavored baby aspirin when I was 2 years old. No child proof caps back then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I talk way too much and I can never limit my writing to just a few lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I have an amazing memory for the most obscure details of other people lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I know the local cop who pulls cars over for speeding. He's cute, and yes, I've been pulled over a few too many times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I'm always late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I've cut dairy and wheat from my diet - most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. After one year of making a serious effort to lose weight, I can finally fit into my favorite dress that I haven't been able to wear in over 12 years. I'm so proud of my accomplishment!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. I love the old standards and melt whenever I listen to them, especially to a live orchestra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. After 40 years of curly hair, I'm finally appreciating it. Amazing what a great hair cut, excellent hair products and the Instyler can do to make a difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. I'm really quite shy and HATE being the center of attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. I have really great Parking Karma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. My secret fantasy is to sing and dance on Broadway, or be a Radio City Rockette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. I'm very attached to music. It evokes deep emotion and memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. My other secret fantasy is wishing that my husband could dance like Fred Astaire and would take me out for ballroom dancing to a live orchestra every chance we could we find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. I'm a very passionate person who wants to save the world. I have a million ideas for the many non-profits I want to create and wish I could do each and every one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. I am not a big ice cream fan however I love Ben &amp;amp; Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk, but really, only for the smoosh-ins. Mmmm!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. I'm a leather snob - I will only buy purses, belts and shoes with real leather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. I love to explore off the beaten path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. I will be 42 in a few months and I'm loving life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-2324199638917694907?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/2324199638917694907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=2324199638917694907&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2324199638917694907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2324199638917694907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2009/01/25-random-things-about-me.html' title='25 Random Things About Me'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-3350533556475316193</id><published>2009-01-09T18:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T19:25:20.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Send a Smile to Israeli Soldiers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.honestreporting.com/a/smilecampaign.html"&gt;http://www.honestreporting.com/a/smilecampaign.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-3350533556475316193?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/3350533556475316193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=3350533556475316193&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/3350533556475316193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/3350533556475316193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2009/01/send-smile-to-israeli-soldiers.html' title='Send a Smile to Israeli Soldiers'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-2590629512195765462</id><published>2008-12-25T21:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T22:09:17.044-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Movie, Smores, and Stargazing</title><content type='html'>and now finally, bedtime. And speaking of bedtime, this evening, after anxiously waiting for over a month for it to be released, the whole family ventured out and saw Adam Sandler's &lt;em&gt;Bedtime Stories&lt;/em&gt;. What a delightful treat. Simply adorable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the scenes have them roasting marshmellows and making smores - which gave me the idea to finally take advantage of our outdoor fire pit upon getting home.  The weather wasn't too cold and David was able to get a roaring fire going. We had the marshmellows and graham crackers but no chocolate bars, so I did the next best thing and melted bakers chocolate and had the kids dribble ok pour the chocolate over the marshmellows and soon we all were very happy with our smores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy were they delicious  and of course what are smores without chocolate and roasted marshmellows all over the children's faces and hands.  I tried to take pictures, but it was a little too dark. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we put on Chanukah music, turned off the lights inside and  on the porch and sat under our blankets, stargazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These moments are what memories are made of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-2590629512195765462?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/2590629512195765462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=2590629512195765462&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2590629512195765462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2590629512195765462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/12/movie-smores-and-stargazing.html' title='A Movie, Smores, and Stargazing'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-2526227647675022264</id><published>2008-12-22T09:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T09:59:55.495-05:00</updated><title type='text'>They Grow Up So Fast</title><content type='html'>Ever noticed that you only seem old when you look at OTHER friends' children and how they have grown? It's natural to not to noticed your own children's growth, I get that, but I always feel like a ton of bricks just fell down on me, whenever my friends' children age is brought up, or see recent pictures, or just hearing about their life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course it makes sense to know that Sandy's daughter is 14 - duh, she was five years old when my daughter was an infant, afterall Natalie is 9 1/2 years old now, but the shock value is still there. I don't feel like I've have changed all that much, but in these children's life, so much has - their body, their personalities, their experiences and outlook. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I do look at pictures, or see a friend's child who in a blink of an eye, now has the body of an adult instead of a child, I always make a mental note to stop and really enjoy my children, in the present, before, they too, grow up before my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did that the other evening with my daughter, and I was blown away by how tall, how curvy, how beautiful and how awesome she truly is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-2526227647675022264?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/2526227647675022264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=2526227647675022264&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2526227647675022264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2526227647675022264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/12/they-grow-up-so-fast.html' title='They Grow Up So Fast'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-7005567932367648553</id><published>2008-12-10T11:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T11:07:41.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Parents Guilt</title><content type='html'>How many of us are guilty of doing this to our children?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ymG3eQempnI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ymG3eQempnI&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes is never quite enough &lt;br /&gt;If you're flawless, then you'll win my love &lt;br /&gt;Don't forget to win first place &lt;br /&gt;Don't forget to keep that smile on your face &lt;br /&gt;Be a good boy &lt;br /&gt;Try a little harder &lt;br /&gt;You've got to measure up &lt;br /&gt;And make me prouder &lt;br /&gt;How long before you screw it up &lt;br /&gt;How many times do I have to tell you to hurry up &lt;br /&gt;With everything I do for you &lt;br /&gt;The least you can do is keep quiet &lt;br /&gt;Be a good girl &lt;br /&gt;You've gotta try a little harder &lt;br /&gt;That simply wasn't good enough &lt;br /&gt;To make us proud &lt;br /&gt;I'll live for you &lt;br /&gt;I'll make you what I never was &lt;br /&gt;If you're the best, then maybe so am I &lt;br /&gt;Compared to him compared to her &lt;br /&gt;I'm doing this for your own damn good &lt;br /&gt;You'll make up for what I blew &lt;br /&gt;What's the problem ...... why are you crying &lt;br /&gt;Be a good boy &lt;br /&gt;Push a little farther now &lt;br /&gt;That wasn't fast enough &lt;br /&gt;To make us happy &lt;br /&gt;We'll love you just the way you are if you're perfect&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-7005567932367648553?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/7005567932367648553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=7005567932367648553&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/7005567932367648553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/7005567932367648553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/12/parents-guilt.html' title='Parents Guilt'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-5446131996933673933</id><published>2008-11-16T22:48:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T23:05:32.709-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Noah's thoughts</title><content type='html'>Some recent thoughts by Noah -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are now entering into new territory - what does "Gay" mean?  I am assuming this word has been tossed around at school lately and not in a good way.  He thought Natalie called him "gay" and he got upset. When I asked him what it meant, he "forgot" but knew it was something gross.  I was dishearten by this comment, though I know he really doesn't understand it's meaning and only know of it as an insult - so naturally he would be upset if called that. So, David and I tried to explain what it means. David must have mentioned about couples (2 men) living together, because Noah then asked, "Like the show 2 1/2 men". So we had to be even more clear by what we meant, even when we said, 2 men who love each other.  So we said, like the way Mommy and Daddy love/like each other.  Then he got bored and ran off to play with his paper airplanes that he is having fun building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Noah told us that when he grows up, he wants to be an artist (pause) ....  a good one. That was really cool to hear from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He also just got his report card and is not only doing 2nd grade math but is in top honors for it (he's only in 1st grade.) His reading is also in the outstanding level.  Starting this next marking period, the first graders will now be graded on punctuation, capitalization and spelling.   GO MCPS!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-5446131996933673933?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/5446131996933673933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=5446131996933673933&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/5446131996933673933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/5446131996933673933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/11/noahs-thoughts.html' title='Noah&apos;s thoughts'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-2790970510496029167</id><published>2008-10-12T19:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T00:32:47.809-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Quote of the Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"The food is bad. It's makes people fat, especially children."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Commenting on why you can't have "dinner" at McDonalds. I am writing this as everyone is getting ready to head out for dinner. Noah wanted to know where we are going (he's in a sourpuss mood because he can't continue riding his razor, in the dark, with the older kids in the neighborhood). I told we are going out to dinner and he asked me where - so just to be silly, I said McDonalds. He then went on to tell me that "you can't have dinner at McDonalds." So I said "sure, lots of people eat dinner at Mcdonalds, why do you think you can't?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when he said - "Because it's bad food. It makes you fat, especially children, so we can't eat there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it - some more wisdom from a 6 year old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess we will just need to find another place to celebrate our anniversary - family style!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-2790970510496029167?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/2790970510496029167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=2790970510496029167&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2790970510496029167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2790970510496029167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/10/quote-of-day.html' title='Quote of the Day'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-979763331537440862</id><published>2008-10-10T09:07:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T14:08:19.577-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Noah</title><content type='html'>He's been so funny, adorable and just plain amazing with all his questions and jokes that he makes up. I must remember to write them down because I can't seem to remember what he asked me. Some of them have to do with G-d, such as "where was Hashem born?" and other questions are about bugs, animals and people such as these "why do grown-ups work so much? Why don't they like to play?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Yom Kippur dinner was filled with jokes from the kids with Noah leading them off with jokes that he made up. Now this is one that I remember. It's just so clever. (ok, he's six and I am just a little bit biased)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why didn't the egg cross the road?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;answer:&lt;br /&gt;- because he was chicken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;: )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh man, we have a little comic on our hands!!! I just love it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-979763331537440862?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/979763331537440862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=979763331537440862&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/979763331537440862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/979763331537440862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/10/noah.html' title='Noah'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-1647298096979385561</id><published>2008-10-01T08:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T08:00:01.558-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Doesn't Hashem Shut Off the Electricity?</title><content type='html'>So, I was just asked by Natalie if I believe in Hashem (G-d). I told her that I do but there are times that I don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She then went on to ask why they teach that Hashem will punish you for something, if indeed one doesn't actually get punished, such as using electricity on Shabbat. "Mom you know how you aren't suppose to use electricity on Shabbat, well my friends say that if you do you will get in trouble and Hashem will punish you, but that's not true."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't answer that but I did try to explain why electricity was not allowed on Shabbat - not it's actual relationship but the reason to question if it's allowed or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I explained to Natalie and Noah that whenever something new is invented or is being use, such as electricity, a decision has to be made to see if it's similar to the original laws and how its to be applied. The people who decide that are these very special Rabbis and it is they who decided a long time ago, that electricity is not permitted on Shabbat based on the original laws.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They wanted to know why HaShem wasn't present in those decisions. Why it is left up to the Rabbis?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noah asked again, "Why do the Rabbis make that decision? Why doesn't Hashem make that decision?" Then Noah said something really clever - "Why doesn't Hashem just shut off the electricity on Shabbat? If you aren't allowed to use it, then why not just shut if off?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought that was a very insightful and excellent question for a six year old. I didn't have an answer to that, but I did tell him that I was really proud of him for asking. That it's a great question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I posed these questions to some friends in the community and asked what would be the best way of answering Natalie and Noah in an age-appropriate manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though this isn't really in child-speak - it does help to answer their questions ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When Hashem gave the torah to the Jews, it was given to us to keep to live by. Unlike Christianity, which is a series of dogmatic laws, which you are not supposed to question, Judaism considers torah a "living torah", a developing element of our lives. We are commanded to study and to question, and to discover the reasoning and make the intuitive leaps that connect the past to the present and the future. The Rabbis that make the decisions that we live our lives by are not "divinely ordained". They are men that have dedicated their lives to the study of torah, and, through their knowledge, can make those connections between the origins of the laws and how to apply them to modern technologies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm amazed that a six year old would ask a question like Noah did - I agree that it's very insightful of him. Here's the reason Hashem doesn't just do it for us: Free will. If Hashem just shut off all the electricity for us, he would be taking away our ability to choose what to do, to make the choice between good and evil. And the whole purpose of our lives is to make that choice between right and wrong. Otherwise, we wouldn't be making the choice to follow what Hashem tells us to do, but being forced into it. So it doesn't really matter what the punishment is, or if we're being punished at all. The point is the ability to make that choice."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-1647298096979385561?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/1647298096979385561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=1647298096979385561&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/1647298096979385561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/1647298096979385561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/10/why-doesnt-hashem-shut-off-electricity.html' title='Why Doesn&apos;t Hashem Shut Off the Electricity?'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-2824569340013300198</id><published>2008-09-27T08:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T22:46:54.980-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sweetest Gift</title><content type='html'>The other day Noah and I spent the afternoon together and as we were sitting down for a little picnic, Noah looked up at me and said ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Mom, whenever I am sad, I think of you. I think about the time we spend together, and that always makes me feel happy again."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart and eyes just lit up. It was one of the most geniune and sweetest moments I have ever experienced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How lucky am I to have such a beautiful and thoughtful son.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-2824569340013300198?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/2824569340013300198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=2824569340013300198&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2824569340013300198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2824569340013300198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/09/sweetest-gift.html' title='The Sweetest Gift'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-148769901305857308</id><published>2008-09-18T17:02:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T18:46:00.288-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Voices Carry, My Previous Post</title><content type='html'>Whew! I am so glad to have finally gotten that off my mind and written down - that and the rest of my previous posts on this presidential race and McCain's vp choice, Sarah Palin.  This past year or so, I really haven't been my usual passionate self with regards to the Presidential race, even going back to before the primaries.  I guess now that it's rushing upon us, reality is quickly setting in. There is so much tension, worry and uncertainty, especially with our country's current economics situation, its really weighing heavy on everyone's heart and mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never intended for this blog to be use in the way it's been recently - not as a mouthpiece for my passionate political viewpoints. Its creation was for the sole purpose of sharing a glimpse into our lives with pictures and stories. A fun place for friends and family to visit - full of positive energy and uplifting and encouraging tales - some serious but most of them silly and sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you would like to read something more opinionated and bias, than just me going on and on with how beautiful, talented and wonderful my little loves are, I invite you to take a moment and visit my original blog, &lt;a href="http://www.sweetooth120.blogspot.com/"&gt;A Little Indulgence&lt;/a&gt;, (TOE's is our family blog), where I've moved all my recent political viewpoints and satirical posts to, including &lt;a href="http://sweetooth120.blogspot.com/2008/09/hush-hush-voices-carry.html"&gt;Voices Carry&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope to see you there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-148769901305857308?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/148769901305857308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=148769901305857308&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/148769901305857308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/148769901305857308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/09/whew-i-am-so-glad-to-have-finally.html' title='Voices Carry, My Previous Post'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-6074202895024683974</id><published>2008-09-04T21:09:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T01:56:57.629-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Consequences</title><content type='html'>As parents, we are always being told that the best way to discipline a child is through consequences and staying consistent, and for positive behavior, give praise and rewards. But face it, behavioral management is tough and challenging no matter how many books we read or how many specialist or experts we follow or listen to, or when in our sane moments how we can rationalize, analyze and/or intellectualize why they do what they do (neurological, didn't get their meds, they are immature, tired, hungry, ___)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They also say - stand behind your threat. Do not threaten your child with a consequence that is unreasonable, unrealistic, or something that you don't plan on following through. We are suppose to think clearly and realistically, always be a few steps ahead of the game. For example, if you and your child is in the store for an hour and all they have are their crayons and paper, don't threatened that if they misbehave you will take away their crayons and paper - why - because now you are stuck with a child with absolutely nothing to do for the rest of that hour and that will perpetuate the boredom and add to more bad behavior. And who loses here - the parent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're supposed to not punish them with something that will allow them to continue getting rewards such as "go to your room". What happens if we send them to their room - are they really being punished? No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are supposed to give out consequences that we know will really have an impact on them - something that they really cherish and will miss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my daughter, I am the prize. I am the reward and the consequence. Nothing else works! NOTHING ELSE WORKS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am at my wits end because she will continue with the behavior until I get really, really angry. I can calmly but firmly tell her that if her behavior continues she will lose a privilege or a favorite poster, etc. and that does not stop her. I can try to reason with her by pointing out the value of what she is losing compared to her desire to be in control or in the right is not worth it; that she would rather lose something so precious than to actually stop and follow my directions and yet she will acknowledge it and this does not stop her. She will keep at it, pushing the envelop, nagging, having a tantrum, ignoring my requests despite the consequences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I do step in and follow through, she gets really upset, begs for me not to do whatever it is that I said I would do, that she will never do it again or she will stop the behavior, anything for me to not follow through. But I do and because she is mad now, she will continue with a new tantrum with slamming doors or doing whatever she thinks will get my attention. So now I go back to her and give her another consequence - and again, the cycle continues but gets worse because now the oppositional behavior is escalating and when I try once more with another consequence its almost a joke to her. Nothing matters - its all about the control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying very hard to not allow myself to get out of control with my temper when it get to this point but as I mentioned previously, it's the only thing that really works withher. It truly takes me to lose my control for her to finally wake up and stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I need advice as to what really works - what consequences should I use to have it work, because the whole praise, positive reinforcements and consequence are not? Now mind you, it's different when she is on her medicine. Almost all these negative behaviors she exibits are only there when her hyperactivity is set loose (not to say they are always in the open, they aren't but when they do come out, she's truly unable to manage it or noticed the difference in her personality.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes sense to ask why don't I just continously keep her medicated? It's because I feel bad AND she must learn to manage her behavior, to recognize the differences in her personality and body language, and to take responsibility for her actions. I feel cruel and it's extremely frustrating for me (and I guess for her as well) to purposely let her spiral into this other person. But what are my options? How is she supposed to truly learn and begin to internalize the approprate behaviors when in a hyper state if she is on her meds? Truly, after she takes her medicine, this whole different person comes out - a person who seems to have already internalize these values and recognizes some actions and changes in her behavior/emotions (though not quite everything - still have problems with the owning up to her actions).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What consequences can I give her that REALLY mean anything to her? She's definitely the type to wait until the very last second of a count (1, 2, .....3) before she stops. Again, testing the limits, pushing the envelope, I have memories of her doing this as early as 18 months (oh those terrible 2's and 3's were a nightmare).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So advice? I need some!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-6074202895024683974?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/6074202895024683974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=6074202895024683974&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/6074202895024683974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/6074202895024683974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/09/consequences.html' title='Consequences'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-4660165503593947730</id><published>2008-08-26T13:25:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T13:50:52.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Curiosity of a Nine Year Old Girl</title><content type='html'>Previously, I've mentioned that Natalie's curiousity about sex, babies, and the body has been something that neither David nor I thought we were quite ready for, however, it seems that its time has come. She is afterall, 9 years old. And after three months of not seeing any of her classmates, I was stunned by how much her girlfriends have grown - that it won't be long until their budding development begins to show, as some have already done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, the night before the first day of school, at midnight, Natalie was still up. She just couldn't fall asleep. After trying desperately to encourage her that she needed to keep trying, she began to ask me - "Mommy, how do you get a baby?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now in the past we have talked about babies, sperm, eggs, dna, and even chromosones but in a very dry, scientific way. She knows about the menstrual cycle, at least that adult women get that, and why women have their periods. But now, she wanted to know how you actually get a baby. No way was I going to discuss this subject with her at midnight, the night before the first day of school. But I did ask her to be more clear with what she wanted to know. She said "you know when you have your period, it's the egg, but if you want a baby, do you go back to the hospital or to the doctor and tell them that you want a baby?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually in the world we live today, that's not so far from the truth. In fact you can do that, but I won't intentionally confuse her with a game of bait and switch to avoid answering directly her questions. Yes, its time to fess up. I think I should probably have some books for her to read after our conversation so she can process it in her own way, on her own time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that beautiful picture wasn't enough of a clue of her beauty and maturity, this is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-4660165503593947730?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/4660165503593947730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=4660165503593947730&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/4660165503593947730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/4660165503593947730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/08/curiosity-of-nine-year-old-girl.html' title='The Curiosity of a Nine Year Old Girl'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-4898535556479665512</id><published>2008-08-06T02:13:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T02:23:21.735-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Beautiful Baby Doll</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SJlBX4bPxtI/AAAAAAAAApM/FlLygBeJaPs/s1600-h/Gorgeous+Natalie+Israel+08.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231284320707004114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SJlBX4bPxtI/AAAAAAAAApM/FlLygBeJaPs/s320/Gorgeous+Natalie+Israel+08.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When I saw this picture, I was struck by just how beautiful Natalie is and how she is growing up so fast.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-4898535556479665512?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/4898535556479665512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=4898535556479665512&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/4898535556479665512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/4898535556479665512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-beautiful-baby-doll.html' title='My Beautiful Baby Doll'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SJlBX4bPxtI/AAAAAAAAApM/FlLygBeJaPs/s72-c/Gorgeous+Natalie+Israel+08.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-468924311985039236</id><published>2008-07-25T00:27:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T00:32:54.876-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Teach Your Children Well</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Originally written on my other blog, Wednesday, October 19, 2005.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Powerful words. Words that I have been thinking a lot about these past few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends have told me that I am being to hard on myself. That I should just accept myself as I am. That no, I am not that low maintenance personality - calm, patient, maternal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to take their advice but I can't. I don't think it's fair to my children. I already see the same traits in my daughter as I had when I was her age. I swore to myself that when I had children they would not inherit the same legacy as I did from my mother and her mother and her grandmother. All strong, opinionated women with high expectations, a need to always be in control, and full of insecurities. I lack patience and I am quick with the temper with those I love the most. I never moved passed the id stage in life. No, that's not completely true. I am an affectionate and compassionate person. I am always drawn to the underdog, the sufferer of injustice. I was once asked why that is so. What did I hope to accomplish or was I even aware of it? It really caught me off guard but it was also very thought provoking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swore to myself that my children would not be like me, my sister, my nieces, my aunts. I come from a family who yells too much. A friend of mine told me that is a prerequisite of being a Jewish mother, that and the guilt. I do feel guilty, because despite my attempts to prevent this from being passed down to the next generation, I have failed. I love my children, but many times, I don't like being a mother. A favorite aunt would be better. I could spoil them, give them lots of attention with plenty of patience, coddle and dote on them and always have nice things to say to them. That would be ideal. But that's a rescue fantasy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter is a mini-me. Truth be known, it's rather scary how much we have in common. Yes, much of it is environmental (my taste in music, for instance), but a lot of it is just innate. I don't want her going doing down the same path as I did. At times it was very painful and lonely. Times have changed. Catch phrases have changed too. When I was young, noone knew about ADHD or Sensory Integration disabilities. My husband swears that I have ADD. I don't see it, but I do believe I probably had the later... Sensory Integration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 35, my husband realized he had ADD. He would sit in meetings at his school, with parents, educators, counselors and discuss a particular child's behavior. Whenever it was brought up that the child most likely had ADHD because of a list of symptoms and behavioral patterns, something always clicked with him. The way the child was described...lazy, very smart but not focused, can't sit still, starts a project but never finishes and so on. That was him to the T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's our daughter too, but she is an experimental learner and that scares the hell out of us. She too, is smart, strong willed , impulsive, and bossy. Despite the consequences, she would rather get her way than relinquish any control. She loves the dance, the drama. She's my drama queen. But she is also very affectionate, compassionate, a nurturer when it really counts, and a seeker of justice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/p6pphVs8bF0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/p6pphVs8bF0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-468924311985039236?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/468924311985039236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=468924311985039236&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/468924311985039236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/468924311985039236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/07/teach-your-children-well.html' title='Teach Your Children Well'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-7525429361243461593</id><published>2008-07-24T09:42:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:34:50.433-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dig for a Day in Beit Guvrin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiHvws-qDI/AAAAAAAAAmI/GoDTRtokxlU/s1600-h/Israel+08+848.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226576622160619570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiHvws-qDI/AAAAAAAAAmI/GoDTRtokxlU/s320/Israel+08+848.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiHwVLa8xI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/FnYd6j2ItKw/s1600-h/Israel+08+859.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226576631951979282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiHwVLa8xI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/FnYd6j2ItKw/s320/Israel+08+859.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiIPJWXoQI/AAAAAAAAAmw/GmRT2xv-5Ro/s1600-h/Israel+08+862.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226577161352618242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiIPJWXoQI/AAAAAAAAAmw/GmRT2xv-5Ro/s320/Israel+08+862.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiIPegFz7I/AAAAAAAAAm4/BBHd-EMWAWU/s1600-h/Israel+08+866.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226577167030538162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiIPegFz7I/AAAAAAAAAm4/BBHd-EMWAWU/s320/Israel+08+866.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiHwlEWdRI/AAAAAAAAAmY/ej8WEncerZs/s1600-h/Israel+08+874.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226576636217292050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiHwlEWdRI/AAAAAAAAAmY/ej8WEncerZs/s320/Israel+08+874.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiIP8WGEZI/AAAAAAAAAnA/8AHzGq5B8Q0/s1600-h/Israel+08+884.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226577175041675666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiIP8WGEZI/AAAAAAAAAnA/8AHzGq5B8Q0/s320/Israel+08+884.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiHw3qFgAI/AAAAAAAAAmg/qpDMl4RxjSQ/s1600-h/Israel+08+883.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226576641207402498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiHw3qFgAI/AAAAAAAAAmg/qpDMl4RxjSQ/s320/Israel+08+883.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiI95Y78XI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/nfxVFh7_mNM/s1600-h/Israel+08+890.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226577964522271090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiI95Y78XI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/nfxVFh7_mNM/s320/Israel+08+890.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiI9AO58vI/AAAAAAAAAnI/G-c_cMo0ybw/s1600-h/Israel+08+904.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226577949179376370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiI9AO58vI/AAAAAAAAAnI/G-c_cMo0ybw/s320/Israel+08+904.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiHxGzyF6I/AAAAAAAAAmo/EsCF32uBaVQ/s1600-h/Israel+08+900.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226576645274605474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiHxGzyF6I/AAAAAAAAAmo/EsCF32uBaVQ/s320/Israel+08+900.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As mentioned below this is an archeological site from the Hasmonean Dynasty. The first cave we were in was to dig for anything that could be catalogued and help tell a story, it included pottery, animal bones (from food they would have disposed of), animal carvings, coins, etc. We divided our dig into two categories - buckets with piles of dirt and rocks and buckets full of our discoveries. Noah and Gili kept finding over and over all the good stuff, including part of a jaw with the teeth still attached (EWW!). I just kept finding rocks. Natalie also found some great stuff, as well as David and Ariel.  When leaving the cave we were asked to bring up all of our buckets of rocks and dirt so we could sift through them. That's when I found, what I hope is authentic (and not dirt or a weird shape rock) an animal carving. Who knows, the next time you are in a museum and see a display of animal carvings from this period - it might be what I discovered. : )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After we left that cave, we then explored an untouch cave. That took some getting use too, but it was really awesome. As you can see above, the folks who lived in this cave raised pigeons. That's what all those holes in the walls are - cool huh? There were some very tight spaces, including one that reminded me of what a birthing canal might be like. We all got very dirty and had to crawl around alot in the semi-darkness, but it was very cool and a whole lot of fun. The kids all agreed that this was on the top of their list of favorites. Can't wait to return and do it all again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Btw, that adorable picture of the couple there is our cousins Sarah and Menechem, with whom we owe a tremendous amount thanks for allowing us to stay with them, in their beautiful apartment in Jerusalem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-7525429361243461593?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/7525429361243461593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=7525429361243461593&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/7525429361243461593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/7525429361243461593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/07/dig-for-day-in-beit-guvrin-photos.html' title='Dig for a Day in Beit Guvrin'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SIiHvws-qDI/AAAAAAAAAmI/GoDTRtokxlU/s72-c/Israel+08+848.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-2874327195142616631</id><published>2008-07-21T18:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T18:53:22.024-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Noahism</title><content type='html'>Whenever one of our children would make a comment or ask a question that was just too fantastic to not pass on or to write down, we would call them a Natalism or Noahism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, it was Noah's turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were walking back to our car this morning and he heard someone beeping a car horn. He asked me, "Momma, why are they beeping their horn." I told him that I didn't know and figured that was the end of it. In all seriousness he then said to me, "hmm, maybe they are Israelie." OMG, I just about died with laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you know we just returned from a three week trip to Israel. This was a first for my husband and children and it's been 20 years since I was last there. All three of them definitely picked up on many of the Israelie customs, gestures and behaviors that are so common there. My husband and I always love to see the world through our children's eyes and ears. Oh, how I really wished that I could have called and shared it with my husband (who is England ) for he would also have been rolling on the floor laughing because it is sooo true!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-2874327195142616631?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/2874327195142616631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=2874327195142616631&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2874327195142616631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2874327195142616631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/07/noahism.html' title='A Noahism'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-8269257203872682436</id><published>2008-07-19T18:42:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T18:49:37.648-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So Tired</title><content type='html'>I am writing this from home. The kids and I arrived late last night (David is spending 2 weeks more in England) and if it wasn't for the long flight, I would hop on a plane and return back to Israel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had such a great time and it's so awesome to see all the advancements and prosperity that Israel and Israelies have gained since I last visited there 20 years ago. I know it seems funny to think that a country would just remain frozen in time but I really was surprised by how much it has changed. It also might be that I am no longer a teenager living there, so my experiences and how I see the world is much different now than then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were really lucky to find a family to swap cars with us, so we had a minivan to use and we had wonderful people to stay with. We didn't get to see everything that we wanted (such as some great museums up North and Tel Aviv, as well as Masada, the Western Wall tunnel tours, and some other archeology sites) but what we did do was often off the beaten path and so much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids especially love the &lt;a href="http://www.archesem.com/dig.asp"&gt;"Dig for a Day"&lt;/a&gt; in which we (our family and the Bogners) spent time digging in an underground cave for remnants from the Hasmonean dynasty time period (I found an animal carving which was really cool), then we climb down and through some caves that have not been excavated, and then it was topped off by visiting a fully excavated site which had been a major place for olive pressing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other places that we visited which the kids also enjoyed was the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yad_La-Shiryon"&gt;Latrun&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.davidpride.com/Israeli_Armor/Armor_battles.htmhttp://"&gt;Tank&lt;/a&gt; Museum, &lt;a href="http://www.jerusalemite.net/modules/guide/guide.php?guide=1021"&gt;Jerusalem's Old City Ramparts &lt;/a&gt;(you are walking on top of the outer walls that surround the Old City) and the &lt;a href="http://www.gemsinisrael.com/e_article000012009.htm"&gt;The Bullet Factory &lt;/a&gt;whose code name was the Ayalon Insitute, a military factory during the British Mandate, that disguised itself by operating as a Kibbutz near the town of Rechovot. Only a small group of pioneers were involved with the covert operation - everyone else who lived and work on the Kibbutz (called Giraffes) thought it was a legitimate commune. David had already left the country when we visited the most spectacular Stalactite &lt;a href="http://www.trekker.co.il/english/avshalom_reserve/"&gt;Avshalom Cave &lt;/a&gt;, in Bet Shemesh as well as one of the most beautiful beaches that I've have ever visited (excluding Hawaii) - Nitzanim Beach, located on the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ashdod_Sand_Dune"&gt;Ashdod Dunes Preserves&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I truly can't wait to return with the family to our home away from home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-8269257203872682436?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/8269257203872682436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=8269257203872682436&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/8269257203872682436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/8269257203872682436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-am-writing-this-from-home.html' title='So Tired'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-8131577190825398532</id><published>2008-07-11T08:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:34:51.721-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Here are  few pictures ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVZNEFSJTI/AAAAAAAAAlw/IZGIYHjei_s/s1600-h/To+Qazrim7_5_6_tripPics08+100.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221177423975032114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVZNEFSJTI/AAAAAAAAAlw/IZGIYHjei_s/s320/To+Qazrim7_5_6_tripPics08+100.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;David showing off his backgammon skills with our new Druze friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Vogue, Vogue, Vogue in Bet Shean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVZNmPqRSI/AAAAAAAAAl4/vW2E7qtmkIc/s1600-h/Geva7_2_tripPics08+058.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221177433145361698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVZNmPqRSI/AAAAAAAAAl4/vW2E7qtmkIc/s320/Geva7_2_tripPics08+058.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVZORXWaaI/AAAAAAAAAmA/KQacd_3od34/s1600-h/To+Qazrim7_3_tripPics08+033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221177444720339362" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVZORXWaaI/AAAAAAAAAmA/KQacd_3od34/s320/To+Qazrim7_3_tripPics08+033.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVQmOEf_II/AAAAAAAAAlY/OHd44kcPZX0/s1600-h/To+Qazrim7_5_6_tripPics08+034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221167960548179074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVQmOEf_II/AAAAAAAAAlY/OHd44kcPZX0/s320/To+Qazrim7_5_6_tripPics08+034.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Noah and I, Nachal Snir, Golan Heights&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVQmrwaXPI/AAAAAAAAAlg/7XuDaJT6iB0/s1600-h/QazrimNetanya7_5_7_8_tripPics08+157.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221167968516988146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVQmrwaXPI/AAAAAAAAAlg/7XuDaJT6iB0/s320/QazrimNetanya7_5_7_8_tripPics08+157.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;David and the kids, Netanya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Warren Shaft on our way down to Hezekiah's Tunnel in the City of David&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVQm4utFRI/AAAAAAAAAlo/0O69Z5GlFe8/s1600-h/OldCityIrDavidtour_tripPics08+043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221167971999487250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVQm4utFRI/AAAAAAAAAlo/0O69Z5GlFe8/s320/OldCityIrDavidtour_tripPics08+043.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVOFARi50I/AAAAAAAAAkw/xebx94X6BC8/s1600-h/DeadSeaEinGedi7_9_tripPics08+102.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221165190885861186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVOFARi50I/AAAAAAAAAkw/xebx94X6BC8/s320/DeadSeaEinGedi7_9_tripPics08+102.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Our Ein Gedi/Dead Sea excusion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVOFpNh8kI/AAAAAAAAAk4/3MxTKRz-pWU/s1600-h/DeadSeaEinGedi7_9_tripPics08+078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221165201874874946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVOFpNh8kI/AAAAAAAAAk4/3MxTKRz-pWU/s320/DeadSeaEinGedi7_9_tripPics08+078.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVOF0JmFEI/AAAAAAAAAlA/QtklD5CrJdo/s1600-h/QazrimNetanya7_5_7_8_tripPics08+157.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVOGMnN7sI/AAAAAAAAAlI/WC3fNMetbSo/s1600-h/QazrimNetanya7_5_7_8_tripPics08+056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221165211377856194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVOGMnN7sI/AAAAAAAAAlI/WC3fNMetbSo/s320/QazrimNetanya7_5_7_8_tripPics08+056.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVOGVq5pmI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/b2LASV6cTFg/s1600-h/To+Qazrim7_5_6_tripPics08+099.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Rosh HaNikra Grottos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-8131577190825398532?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/8131577190825398532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=8131577190825398532&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/8131577190825398532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/8131577190825398532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/07/here-are-few-pictures.html' title='Here are  few pictures ...'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SHVZNEFSJTI/AAAAAAAAAlw/IZGIYHjei_s/s72-c/To+Qazrim7_5_6_tripPics08+100.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-2886023128608300285</id><published>2008-07-10T07:58:00.019-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T23:16:09.699-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Netanya, Ch. 3</title><content type='html'>We arrived at 4am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We figured that since we were planning to be in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Netanya&lt;/span&gt; to visit my father's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;gravesite&lt;/span&gt;, and I remembered that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Netanya&lt;/span&gt; had some really upscale hotels we would just try that before we just camp out in our car. Well, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Netanya&lt;/span&gt; has changed (it's quite rundown and all developed near the beach) and we found only one upscale hotel which was booked. The other hotels in the area did have rooms, and at least their clerks were honest, for when I asked if they had problems with Roaches, they said, This is Israel, and so yes, they can't guarantee there aren't any. They come through the windows, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;waterpipes&lt;/span&gt;, etc. (and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;btw&lt;/span&gt;, all the hotels lobbies were unbearably hot, they do not use the a/c.) so David and I made the decision to just sleep in the van. We found a nice spot near a park off the beach and made the best of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few hours later we all were up, had breakfast from our cooler, and headed for the beach for a short visit for the kids. Of course they loved the beach (which of course changed greatly - does not look anything like it did when I lived there) and were excited to see all the jellyfish that had washed ashore (I think the Israelis call them Medusa?) After the beach and a stroll along a very nice promenade, we were ready to go to my father's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;gravesite&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago, I posted on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Netanya&lt;/span&gt; Yahoo list &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;serv&lt;/span&gt; an inquiry to asking how I could locate my father's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;cemetery&lt;/span&gt; and gravestone. I got so many responses back, but one person actually wrote me that he not only called and got the information for me, he went to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;cemetery&lt;/span&gt;, found the location and took pictures. He wrote to me all the information and even offered to clean the marble. I was beyond words with his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;generosity&lt;/span&gt; and a little suspicious especially for the offer, so I passed on that. He told me that when we get to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Netanya&lt;/span&gt; to call him and he would help us find the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;cemetery&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I did. He literally dropped everything he was doing, grabbed a taxi and met us at the Bus Station (where Natalie, who was waiting with me, got a taste of some of the Israeli culture - competing taxi drivers yelling at each other, and passengers getting on a bus - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; not getting, but pushing, shoving, crowding in, to board the bus (that's another thing about this country - they have no clue what a line is - whether it's standing in a line, or parking a car - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;nada&lt;/span&gt;, but I digress.) He was this young guy in his 30's (I expected him to be an older man) who made aliyah with his family about 15 years. He was very nice, expected nothing in return, and was just so thrilled with himself for doing such a great &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;mitzvah&lt;/span&gt; for us. He told us that he told his Rabbi about what he had done, and even when we were at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;cemetery&lt;/span&gt;, he called his Rabbi again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said he used to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;frum&lt;/span&gt; before he got married, but his wife wasn't and he is very bitter that he can't be because of it (he told us how unhappy he was in his marriage, etc.) He also said that it was his fate to help us, because when he originally went to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;cemetery&lt;/span&gt;, he couldn't find the headstone. He then asked G-d to help him find it, and viola, the number just appeared in his head and was standing in front of the stone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh huh, I know what you are thinking, and yes, he was a little off, but still very sweet. He even kept the the vultures away from us - vultures meaning the religious men who hound you in the parking lot about saying a prayer in exchange for money, and the employees of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;cemetery&lt;/span&gt; who drive around and are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;persistent&lt;/span&gt; with their requests to clean the marble. They came up to us as we were looking for the stone and insisted on showing us the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;gravesite&lt;/span&gt;. Then he just kept asking us if we wanted them to clean it. When we said no, he just kept haggling the price, until, David yelled at them to have some respect and to leave us alone. It was just unreal. Flashbacks of the day we buried my father came rushing back. It was very disgraceful, the people who are responsible for the whole process of the burial and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;caretaking&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually early in the morning, I was sitting in the park before anyone got up, reminiscing about my father and our life in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Netanya&lt;/span&gt; and even our visits to Haifa. I rarely talk about the last few months that my father was alive and all the guilt I have felt for leaving him behind, when he was still so sick and frail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had travelled to the States over the summer prior to his passing where he had visited the VA hospital and had a full checkup. It took several months before the mail caught up with us when it said in the letter that there was something wrong, like internal bleeding or something similar and he needed to get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;medical&lt;/span&gt; attn for it. It came too late. A few weeks after he returned from the States, he was in the Hospital (a very bad one at that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We thought he had a heart attack but it was pulmonary edema. He was in the hospital for several weeks and I hated him in there, as well as him. I wanted to try to move him to Jerusalem or to a hospital in Tel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Aviv&lt;/span&gt;, but the insurance wouldn't cover it and we didn't have any money to do it privately. He wouldn't eat the food, his already thin self, was just barely skin and bones, and the nurses didn't speak English. AIDS was very well known then, so I was so shocked by the appearance of used blood soaked cotton balls and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;gauze&lt;/span&gt; on the floor. The nurses used their teeth to cut the (tubes?) they used to tie around the arm to take blood. Also in the waiting room there was a table with some coffee. Next to it was a pitcher of milk (back then milk only came in a plastic bag which sat in a pitcher.) I noticed that there was lipstick on the opening of the milk bag. I asked the nurse how she opened the bag and she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;gestured&lt;/span&gt; with her teeth. I was so disgusted and so shocked. This was a hospital. How barbaric.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt awful because I also was living and working temporarily in Jerusalem, and I was dating someone that I really care for, and wanted to only spend time with him because I was planning to leave Israel soon and to finally backpack through Europe. When my dad did get home, he stopped smoking cold turkey - a 2 pack a day, 50 year old habit, he also was still quite ill and weak and his normal, very calm, gentle, personality was replaced by someone very cranky and in need of a lot of help. All I wanted was to leave the country. I had desperately wanted to visit Europe and I was so tired of living in Israel by then, I just acted very selfishly towards my father and his needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got my ticket to leave (couldn't go to Europe because I had to quit my job in Jerusalem and move back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;Netanya&lt;/span&gt;) my father didn't want me to leave. He wanted me to stay in Israel with him. My neighbor, who so kindly looked after my father also thought I should stay until my brother arrived, which was going to be in another few weeks, and my brother also told me not to go. That Dad needed me there until he got there, and of course my boyfriend didn't want me to leave either. But, I didn't care - I was feeling suffocated and just wanted to escape and get back to the States as soon as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I left, I stocked up the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;refrigerator&lt;/span&gt; and freezer and knew that my neighbor would take of him until my brother arrived. Less than a week after my departure - he died. He had another attack and couldn't reach for his medicine in time. My neighbor hadn't seen him and when she went to check on him, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;erev&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;Yom&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;Kippur&lt;/span&gt;, she discovered he has passed away, alone in his bed, with his medicine bottle knocked on the floor. My brother was very angry at me and I know he blamed me for what had happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never talked about this with my brother or my sister. After 22 years, I still find it very difficult to talk about it. In fact, I almost skipped going back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;Netanya&lt;/span&gt; and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;cemetery&lt;/span&gt;. I don't think of my dad in that way. Just because his body is buried there, his soul is always near me, no matter where I live. But in the end, I am glad I did go, if not for me, for my kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended our journey by going to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;Herzilya&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;Petuach&lt;/span&gt; and grabbing some lunch in the Marina, then headed back to Jerusalem, to our cousins clean and wonderful flat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last two days were most definitely an adventure, but that's what great stories are made of ....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-2886023128608300285?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/2886023128608300285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=2886023128608300285&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2886023128608300285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2886023128608300285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/07/netanya-ch-3.html' title='Netanya, Ch. 3'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-6451399571364457460</id><published>2008-07-09T17:01:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T08:01:32.864-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ambassadors, Ch. 2</title><content type='html'>So to pick up from where I left off, we cancelled our room at the Har Carmel and decided to just try the Holiday Inn. It's what we originally wanted hours earlier, but we never could find it. We kept going in circles, but this time we finally figured it out (actually near the gardens and I finally recognized some of the area - woohoo).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Of course they were full too but the desk clerk was very nice and tried to find us accomodations in Caesaria and Netanya but nothing was available. The security guy sitting outside was also very nice and we asked if it was possible to leave our van in front of the lobby while we went to get some food and he said no problem. We walked up to the Carmel Center and had a delicious vegetarian meal at Greg's. It was so yummy. Sorta made up for the whole evening. When we walked back to the hotel, I ask the clerk again (a different person) if anyone cancelled, he said no, but he called the La Meridian, located way below on the beach. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There were rooms available and for a decent rate. We got lost again and kept circling down and up and one way streets until we finally got to the bottom of the hill near the beach. To get to the beach, you take a side road that passes under a narrow bridge and then to another side road adjacent to the beach. As we headed towards the hotel, there were a number of parked cars, in semi darkness. It reminded me of when I lived in Israel before and went to this out away restaurant/pub in Tel Aviv, with my boyfriend and his friends. Near there was a deserted strip along the beach and it was full of male prostitutes. So I wondered if these were prostitutes. David didn't think so, but by the way they were dress there was no denying it. Hmm, where the heck are we, it looked like a nice area. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, we arrive at the hotel and again, it was located next to this huge building that looked like a new corporate building. It was almost pitched black. The hotel also look really nice from the inside, so we were finally relieved and optimistic. When I walked inside, the air was off and it was so humid and hot and it was full of teenagers running around. The front desk counter looked worned and unprofessional, but I was still hopeful, afterall, this was suppose to be a 5 star hotel. There was only a few people on staff - a desk clerk, a person who I guess fixes up the rooms, a bartender, and a security guard. By now it was way after midnight. I stood there for over 40 minutes trying to get my room. This poor kid had the phones ringing (with English speakers and none of the other men knew English very well except for the clerk), the teenagers, who were drunk, needing attn, the bartender who needed to know the exchange rate so he could take dollars instead of shekels, and so on. It was so entertaining to watch. I really felt bad for this kid - it was like watching a comedy of errors.&lt;/p&gt;Originally he was going to give me two rooms - one with a bed and the other with a pullout sofa. But I didn't want to pay an additional 100 shekels for that, so he said he would move a couch in the room. The guy he asked said they don't have anything like that, so the clerk just gave the same room for the lower price. But when they tried to find the keys (still have keys not cards and they were scattered around in different drawers) they couldn't find them, so he found us another room, even better - a suite with a kitchen. Great, wonderful, but the only rooms left were in the next building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bldg next door that looked like a corporate headquarters that had been abandoned. He said to drive in the underground parking and take the elevator up, so we did. However, once we got to the garage, it spanned the length of several blocks - all the buildings above and elevator entrances were not marked, so we had no idea where to go. Now remember it's now getting closer to 2:00 am or later and we are exhausted. We had all our bags and a cooler and had to wake the kids and get them upstairs. I go up to check if this is the right building. I go to the floor the room is on and when the elevator door opens up, it completely dark. It was like I was in the Shining - it was so eerie. So I finally found the lobby (after getting turn around on different floors - all very hot and looking like they desperately needed a facelift - but not as bad as the previous two hotels.) The clerk looked surprised and I told him our situation, so he went with us to help escort us to our rooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we here are in the this underground parking garage, which is almost empty and he points to the right elevators, so he thought - nope wrong, so we drove around some more and he found the right ones. He kept apologizing and helped up with our bags and took us to our room. We go up to the floor and it's the wrong side of this gigantic building. We take the elevator down, walked to the other side, take it up and walk to our room, down a corridor that definitely is not a 5 star hotel quality. Wouldn't you know it that the key he gave us was the wrong key. So we drag ourselves back down to the lobby and wait for him to get us a key to another room. All I kept thinking was, they are going to comp us this room. It's been almost 2 hours since we tried to check in. Meanwhile there is no air conditioning at all in the building. I guess they only allow the guests to use it in their rooms. It was very hot and humid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost 2 hrs later, the children barely able to stand or sit without falling over, waiting in this lobby with a security guard who is very bored but wait it gets better, who should happen to come into this building's lobby and walk over to a phone to call a taxi, but three of the hookers. They obviously did this alot, since the guard never said a word and they knew exactly where to go. I looked at David and we just couldn't believe this. Natalie looked at them and when they left, said "Momma, those girls were sure dressed funny. They look so weird."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally another guy (the other hotel's guard) came with a key and took our things up to the room. We walked in and at first it actually looked quite nice. It was a three room suite with a kitchen. The beds looked clean, however they didn't have fitted mattress sheets and when I lifted up the bedspread, the bottom sheet came up to revealing that if we slept there, we would probably end up rolling around on the mattress itself. But, ok, not such a big deal. Then suddenly my eye caught this thing on the carpet. I looked closer because it blended in with the pattern on the carpet but then suddenly it started to move. It was this big, light brown roach. It scurried away behind the closet and I yelled at David that there is roach in the bedroom. He didn't believe me and then he took a look and just stood there, looking so sad that we had to leave. As we walked back to the living room, Natalie started to shout because another roach ran under the chair Noah was sitting on, and then I jumped and yelled as another roach nearly ran over my toes. We hauled ass out of there and hit the road for Netanya. It is now after 3am in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued ...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-6451399571364457460?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/6451399571364457460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=6451399571364457460&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/6451399571364457460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/6451399571364457460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/07/ambassadors.html' title='The Ambassadors, Ch. 2'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-1027437654240487666</id><published>2008-07-08T14:45:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T07:57:06.606-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wandering Jews, Ch. 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;, where even to begin this story of our adventures yesterday. With David finally feeling a little bit better, we finally felt comfortable leaving our wonderful nest for some sightseeing along the Northern coast and then to our next &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;couchsurfing&lt;/span&gt; experience. This time, it was with an older couple who according to their profile seemed very cool and who enjoyed hosting and sightseeing with their guests. We were originally supposed to show up on Sunday and stay for two nights, but because of David's illness we postponed for only Monday night, or so we thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally got on the road &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;around&lt;/span&gt; late morning towards our first destination, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Rosh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;HaNikra&lt;/span&gt;. The ride across the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Galil&lt;/span&gt; was just beautiful, with many areas reminding us of our trip to the Gold country in California. The kids and David were very excited to be a stone's throw from the Lebanonese border. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;grottoes&lt;/span&gt; were gorgeous, and the kids loved not only exploring the exciting caves and tunnels, but the interactive movie explaining the history. I had visited the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;grottoes&lt;/span&gt; before and I don't think I ever learned about the history of them. It's really quite fascinating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another fascinating museum that I really wanted to visit but we got there just minutes too late, was the Ghetto Fighters museum: a museum dedicated to those who fought in the resistance during the Holocaust. It's a very impressive building and it just so happens to be built near a Roman &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;aqueduct&lt;/span&gt; that spans from around Haifa down towards &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Caesaria&lt;/span&gt;. It was about this time that we called our hosts to let them know our timeline. Well, it seems that they had made other plans and because we never made it the night before, they went away for a few days, leaving us stranded. When David mentioned that we didn't have a place to stay (and they knew we had the children with us), they just said, maybe next time and that they weren't even home, they already left . Well their plans didn't include letting us know, nor did they even make any suggestions or try to help us find &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;accommodations&lt;/span&gt;, especially so late in the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though David was feeling anxious about us not having any place to stay, I felt more optimistic and assured him we would find something, at least in Haifa. Well that was my first mistake and boy did we pay for it, but I will get to that a little bit later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So because what I had planned was not going to work for the day, I was trying to think of ways we could still manage to see most of what I had planned. One our major concerns was that ALL of our belongings were in the back seat of our minivan and that made me nervous, especially when we pulled into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Akko&lt;/span&gt;. The old city looked very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;casbah&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; which is intriguing, but we didn't feel comfortable with our car so exposed. We tried a few places to park the car, but each time we got out, something was pulling us back to change locations, until we decided that both of us were getting weird vibes and maybe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Akko&lt;/span&gt; would be better to tour under difference circumstances. So next on our agenda was Haifa. Now, the last time I was in Haifa was probably 22 or 23 years ago and again, with all the new highways and residential, corporate and industrial buildings, I have been finding it so hard to re-orient myself to my new surroundings. I look for certain landmarks and either they aren't there anymore, or the highway is no longer in view of them. Anyway, as we got closer to Haifa, I realized that I had never seen the North side and never knew how industrial the area is with refineries, chemical plants, etc. My goal was to get us to the top. I remembered that is where the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Baha'i&lt;/span&gt; Gardens were and so we snaked our way upwards through some very tight streets (there are WAY TOO MANY cars in Israel and the cities and older communities are not planned out for them so it's very tight with people parking on the sidewalk, sideways, backwards, this way and that - if they only enforce their parking the country would be RICH!!!) however we never saw any signs for the gardens, or the subway or anything else that I remembered and I never remembered the views facing a port and a large industrial area. Also everything was in Russian or Ethiopian (Israel's two most recent immigrant populations i.e., within the last 20 yrs, and a very large one that) and the neighborhoods in general looked quite run down) so we started to ask around and were told that we were on the wrong hilltop, we needed to go the other side of the Haifa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow - Haifa is really big and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;spread out&lt;/span&gt;. All this time, I only thought it was this tiny city on Mt. Carmel. We finally managed to work our way over to the other hilltops and now it was time to find a tourist center or a hotel. Each time we asked someone, they made a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;ew&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;wha&lt;/span&gt; sound and told us we were really far from where should needed to be. David was getting nervous, Natalie really had to find a bathroom, and I was still confident that as long as we are near one of the Universities, there had to be some hotels. Around and around and around we went going up and down the hills, until we finally saw an indoor mall. Natalie and I jumped out to find a bathroom for her and everyone kept pointing towards the inside. Finally, one restaurant had a restroom and as we were walking away, I noticed a woman sitting alone at table. I swear I knew her, so I whispered to Natalie that let's pretend we are looking out the window and to walk back near her so I could get a second look. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;, it was a woman that belong to our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;shul&lt;/span&gt;, who now was studying Torah in Jerusalem for three years and was in Haifa to do a three month intense Hebrew-language class. I told her our situation, but she apologized that this was only her second day in Haifa and she was living in the dorms and knew nothing about the area . Natalie then noticed out the window, that David and Noah were heading towards the mall but they didn't know where we were, so we started to race around the mall, trying to head them off so we all wouldn't get lost. Whew, we found them, and I showed him our surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we said our goodbyes, I learned that just down the street are many hotels, so we leisurely went grocery shopping and then started towards all the hotels, many of them 5*s. We didn't care at that moment. We just wanted to settle in, then go out and enjoy the Carmel center. EVERY hotel we called or drove by was completely booked. We did managed to find one on the list who did have a few rooms. My gut told me that this was going to turn out bad, but what choice did we have. It was already 8pm, the kids hadn't eaten yet, we were tired, and David was still under the weather. They wanted $145 for the room - one bed (really a thin mattress on a box) and two cots for the kids. As I walked in the lobby, I felt uncomfortable -it was old, stained carpets, banged up, etc, but I wasn't going to pass any judgement until I saw the room. What a dump. I told the guy no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;thank you&lt;/span&gt; and he didn't even bat an eyelash, he just took the key and we left. So we kept trying to find the Holiday Inn by driving around in circles. The traffic was so bad, even on a Monday evening and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;side streets&lt;/span&gt; very tight to drive down. In our quest to find the hotel, we stopped and asked a taxi driver for help. He asked if we tried all the hotels including the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Har&lt;/span&gt; Carmel. He promised us that this hotel was nothing like the previous one and he even called them to find out if they had any rooms. He then got back into the taxi and had us follow him. The hotel looked very nice on the outside and we were relieved that we had such good fortune. We wanted to tip him, but he refused. We went inside and even though the room was expensive ($215) I was hopeful. The lobby looked well worn and the front desk also seemed worn, but it was a room. He told us that the rate was so high because of the extra beds for the kids and that it was in their other building across the parking lot. He wanted to be paid in full up front, so we did and began our journey. Journey is a great word here because it's now way late and as we stood in the parking lot, we had no clue which apt bldg he was referring to. David finally figured it out and went upstairs to check the room. When he came back down, I asked how it was and he seemed a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;hesitant&lt;/span&gt;. "They just finished making the children's beds and the sheets all look clean." "What about our room?" I asked. "It's acceptable." "Acceptable? What does that mean? - This is costing us over $200 and it's only acceptable?" "Well, your standards are different than mine and there are some things about it that you may not feel comfortable about."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we headed towards it. Again, as I was walking towards the lobby, little details started to pop out which gave away it's true character. This place, I just knew was going to be a dump, perhaps one step higher than the last one, BUT, I will just go and see how bad it is. If perhaps we were paying $50 or so for the place, I probably wouldn't be so upset, but having to climb 4 flights of stairs to the room, only made matters worse. Once in there, it looked &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; but I wasn't sold. Then Natalie and Noah started to screamed about a roach, so I went to look at what they were talking about. Sure enough, they had opened one of the cabinets and there was this long-ass, at least 3 inch roach dead roach. That was enough for me to say, no thanks, I will sleep in the van. We got our money back and drove away, thankful to have escape that roach motel, so we thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to be continued... the ambassadors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(goodnight - need sleep, need sleep, need sleep in a bed!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-1027437654240487666?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/1027437654240487666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=1027437654240487666&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/1027437654240487666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/1027437654240487666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/07/wandering-jews.html' title='Wandering Jews, Ch. 1'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-7860499474297529803</id><published>2008-07-07T04:38:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T02:50:24.992-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Golan</title><content type='html'>(David is doing much better - he had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;gastroenteritis&lt;/span&gt; viral infection. It usually lasts 3 days and it just needed to run its course.He's still a little weak,but on his feet and ready to tour again. We feel so bad that he miss so much of this beautiful corner of the country.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just spent an incredible time with our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;couchsurfing&lt;/span&gt; family, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Yaakov&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Shoshi&lt;/span&gt; Levi, on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Moshav&lt;/span&gt; קדמת צבי (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Quidmat&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Tzvi&lt;/span&gt;). They have a beautiful home full of fruit trees, herbs and flowering trees, as well as a huge guest house they built with a bathroom and kitchen. We stayed in the guesthouse. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Yaakov&lt;/span&gt; is a farmer and a teacher. He has owns dairy cows and orchard. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Shoshi&lt;/span&gt; is a social worker and also still living at home is their very sweet son, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Sa'ar&lt;/span&gt;, who has been terrific with the children. Noah just adores him. On Saturday, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Yaakov&lt;/span&gt; took the kids and I, as well as his kids to tour the Golan Heights via dirt roads (one of them being the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petroleum_Road#External_links"&gt;Petroleum Road&lt;/a&gt;) and then headed over to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Nachal&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Snir&lt;/span&gt;. It's very cool because you can hike in the water or the trail and as you continue through, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Nachal&lt;/span&gt; Dan joins in, just parallel for a bit and then it merges together. The Dan is much colder than the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Snir&lt;/span&gt; which was very refreshing. It was so lush and Natalie with an eye just like her dad, was able to spot a huge crab sitting on a rock, totally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;camouflaged&lt;/span&gt;. How she (or David) is able to spot these things is beyond me. On our way home we stopped by a &lt;a href="http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull&amp;amp;cid=1205420742098"&gt;new memorial &lt;/a&gt;that honored the 73 young soldiers who died in a horrific helicopter accident in 1997. Two Israeli helicopters were going on a stealth mission and had their lights off and collided. One of the men who died was a former student of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Yaakov's&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday, it was Natalie's 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; Birthday so it was her day to choose what she wanted to do. We headed over to &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXBaZaSz5oE&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Manara&lt;/span&gt; Cliff&lt;/a&gt; and rode the cable car, got to ride a very fun alpine ride - sorta like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;roller coaster&lt;/span&gt; that we can control ourselves, our ticket also included swimming in their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Moshav's&lt;/span&gt; lovely pool. Afterwards, we grab a bite to eat, met several families who either lived in Israel or were visiting, and then we headed to &lt;a href="http://www.kayaks.co.il/category/english"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Kfar&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Blum&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/a&gt;for rafting (or they call it kayaking) down the Jordan River. That was a lot of fun. We took &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Sa'ar&lt;/span&gt; along with us and he also had a blast. Driving around wasn't bad at all. I have a great memory and navigation skills, so having already been in the area a few times before over the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;wknd&lt;/span&gt;, it was a breeze. David was very sick that morning so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Yaakov&lt;/span&gt; took him to the local clinic and they ran some tests, gave him an IV and then diagnose him with the virus he has. Thankfully the doctor was American, so it was much easier to communicate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we got home, David was feeling much better. His fever had finally broke and though his stomach was still upset, he was ready to continue on to our next big and exciting adventure, to visit good friends of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Yaakov&lt;/span&gt;, a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Druze"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Druzim&lt;/span&gt; Family&lt;/a&gt;, located very close to the Syrian border. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;Druze&lt;/span&gt; are very loyal to Israel, but also can travel back and forth to Syria, where many of their family are based. Unlike the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;Druzim&lt;/span&gt; who live in the Galilee /Carmel Mountain area, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;Golani&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;Druzim&lt;/span&gt; do not go into the Israeli Army. When we got to their house, we were greeted by the whole family. They live in a very modern home and only one room had furniture per &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;se&lt;/span&gt;. Most of the rooms have an area carpet and cushions on the floor. That's where we all sat to eat and to talk. In one of the other rooms, there was a TV on a stand, and the men in there were very much engaged in a hot game of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;sheshbesh&lt;/span&gt; (backgammon.) David was invited to play and he won the game to their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;surprise&lt;/span&gt;. They wanted to play me too, but poor them, we had to leave. : ) I've learned to play Middle Eastern &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;sheshbesh&lt;/span&gt; from my girlfriend's father who is Iranian. David also learned from him as well, so perhaps &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; why he did so well last night. It was very nice of them to have us visit with them. They brought out a huge circular tray with olives, different types of cheeses from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;Yaakov's&lt;/span&gt; farm, olive oil and Syrian &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;Za'arta&lt;/span&gt; (spices), sauteed vegetable which were out of this world - it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; good, and a few other dishes that were also very good - all vegetarian, because they know &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;Yaakov&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt;Shoshi&lt;/span&gt; do not eat any meat. They also had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"&gt;Druzim&lt;/span&gt; pita - this huge round, thin bread, almost the size of Noah, which is all folded up and given to everyone. This was accompanied by some honey, mint tea which also was very good. Afterwards,they brought out another round tray full of different nuts and fruit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, we were so thankful to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43"&gt;Yaakov&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44"&gt;Shoshi&lt;/span&gt; for making our trip so special. Not many people get the opportunity that we just had experience. It was a perfect ending to Natalie's birthday. I hope she forever remembers it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we are heading to the Northern Coast to visit the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45"&gt;Grottoes&lt;/span&gt; on the border of Lebanon, and then driving to Haifa and also visiting some small museums in the area. Tonight we will be staying with another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46"&gt;couchsurfing&lt;/span&gt; family and tomorrow we will be driving down towards Tel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47"&gt;Aviv&lt;/span&gt; for more exciting touring, including &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48"&gt;Caesaria&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49"&gt;Netanya&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50"&gt;Rechovot&lt;/span&gt; to visit a clandestine bullet factory during the British Mandate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to get on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shalom,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-7860499474297529803?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/7860499474297529803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=7860499474297529803&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/7860499474297529803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/7860499474297529803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/07/goodbye-golan.html' title='Goodbye Golan'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-4978252061226870003</id><published>2008-07-05T03:18:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T15:21:35.039-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor David</title><content type='html'>Well if it wasn't enough that David sprained his knee, he now has come down with hopefully nothing more serious than a virus. Friday morning we took a trip to Katzrin and then to Safed, by the time we headed home, David was about to pass out. In the morning he felt dizzy and nauseous, but we thought it was just the heat but we were wrong, for when we were in Safed, the dizziness came back again - his head began to really hurt and as well as the rest of his body. He went to sleep and when I checked on him, he had a fever and chills. When he told me that he needed not one but two quilts and socks, we knew he was really sick (the weather has been just beautiful and warm.) After alternating between tylenol and ibuprofen, his fever finally broke, but began again soon after it wore off. Around 1am, it kept spiking no matter what I gave him, including a cold towel. It was now 103.2 and rising. So I woke up our guests and headed for the hospital in Safed, only to be told his lungs were find, his vitals were fine, it's probably just a virus. Well, this morning they cycle begins again. I hope he feels better soon and it's not anything more serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My poor baby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-4978252061226870003?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/4978252061226870003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=4978252061226870003&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/4978252061226870003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/4978252061226870003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/07/poor-david.html' title='Poor David'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-3604134052257567908</id><published>2008-07-03T17:37:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T15:52:30.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beautiful North</title><content type='html'>Hmm, how can I change our plane tickets so we can stay just a little bit longer, say a few more months?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are in the North right now, and it's been so wonderful. We were guests at one of the most thriving and quite successful kibbutzim in the Israel - Kibbutz Geva in the Jezreel Valley, near Beit She'an and Gan Ha'shlosha (the Sahne) National Park. The children had so much fun horseback riding, watching the cows being milked, meeting a newly born calf and petting not only the other calfs but getting up close and personal to their very small herd of buffalo. They got to visit the sheep and finally get to play with the cats that live among the horses. We got to go swimming in the natural pools of the Sahne, explore the ruins of Beit She'an, and take a scenic drive up Mt. Gilboa. Back at the kibbutz, we ate in the communal dining hall for breakfast and lunch (something rare these days on kibbutzim, I hear) and we were totally spoiled by their most delicious dairy products made on the kibbutz but is unfortunately, not sold to the public (per an agreement with the Dairy association and Tnuva Dairy.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up until a week ago, I had foregone eating all dairy and wheat but gave in to the temptation when I was in the Jewish Quarter of the old city in Jerusalem. Though the old arab man with his stone oven hidden away off the alley, has been replaced by new ovens and a staff of workers AND is now a thriving old city business, this tucked away treasure still beckons the passerbyer with it's tempting smells of hot fresh pita and bagela and za'arta spices. So how could I resist?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; When visiting Kibbutz Geva, I decided that I just can't be in Israel and NOT eat dairy, especially the yogurts and cheeses, and the fresh pita and pastries. Who knows when I will be able to have this chance again, so I reason. Let me tell you, I was in Heaven. We had the best hummus, I ever tasted in my life, the goat cheese and yogurt was out of this world, and the vegetables - wow. The cucumbers here are different than at home and you can eat them whole. What a meal our host threw together for us - so very simple, yet, delicious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we said goodbye this morning for our next adventure in the Golan Heights, we headed for Kfar Tabor and the children had a blast learning the story behind the origins of Marzepan, creating their own chocolate candy and using their imaginations to create their own marzepan edible artwork. From there we were headed to the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee) where were planning to go hiking at Nachal Daliyot, but got sidetracked with a visit at Kibbutz Degania Aleph, Israel's oldest kibbutz. Though the kibbutz is no longer it's former socialist self, it's still quite impressive, beautiful and an educational experience for the kids. Again, the weather was gorgeous and the landscape and views just stunning, especailly as we headed into the Golan towards a moshav just North of Katzrin. Boy did we not expect this little gem. The moshav is like paradise and our hosts and their children (who made a special trip to come home to meet us ... one daughter is a student at Hebrew University and the other is a Madricha for the Israeli Scouts pre-army - not sure the name of the program) are one of the nicest families that we have met. The children love this place and this family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's late and I need to get up early for our very busy day exploring. I can't wait to share all of our pictures and videos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilah tov.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-J&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-3604134052257567908?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/3604134052257567908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=3604134052257567908&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/3604134052257567908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/3604134052257567908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/07/beautiful-north.html' title='The Beautiful North'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-2051818038948515281</id><published>2008-07-01T00:50:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T19:33:01.742-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Shalom Habibi</title><content type='html'>We are here in Israel (Jerusalem actually) and having a great time. The weather has been gorgeous and it's been wonderful to just walk around and explore. The city has changed so much, as well as Israel in general. It's been 20 years this summer since I was here last. So hard to believe - when you leave some place that you knew so well and never return nor had any real contact afterwards, all your memories are suspended in time. It's been a little difficult to observe how things have changed as well as getting reoriented. Streets and neighborhoods have literally changed and when you stop to ask someone, especially if they are young, they have no clue or very little memory of how it was or where something may have been. I have no problem adapting to the changes, but I need my memories to help guide me and re-orient myself to my surroundings. I am very good at navigating and so it has been throwing me off by not recognizing the landmarks I bookmarked in my memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's not stopping us from just allowing us to "get lost" and to explore the old and new Jerusalem (old = 1980's). I've also discovered old neighborhoods that I never knew existed, who architecture is just so charming and beautiful despite the neighborhood's appearance. The kids are loving it here, though all the walking has taken some adjustment on their part, but ever since we knew we were coming, we've been trying to prepare them for all the walking and hiking they would be doing here. Noah is picking up the language very quickly and wants to impress anyone he meets with his new vocabulary. And Natalie has been so adorable, stepping in as our translator. Anytime we encountered only Hebrew, she will ask us if we want her to translate. The kids have also learned the word Feral, as in Feral Cats. Both of them, but especially Natalie just can't seem to get enough of all the cats. It doesn't matter if they are wild or not, they think each cat or kitten they see is adorable, and if they could have their way,they would be stopping to pet every each one of them, which unfortunately, are far too many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids also have gotten to meet family members they never knew before and to re-establish relationships with those they only had minimal contact. When we arrived in Israel, we stayed in Modiin with our cousins. Their little girl and Noah instantly hit it off. Our aunt and uncle also live there (they made Aliyah in December to be closer to both of the children and families.) Natalie was so thrilled to be able to spend time with her Aunt. We also went to visit David's other cousins and Aunt who are on his mother's side of the family and live on Givat Brenner, one the oldest and largest kibbutzes in Israel. Both kids loved the Kibbutz and their cousins (who are probably in the 60's &amp;amp; 70's). Unfortunately their great, great Aunt, who is almost 97 years old, was not very alert when we saw her. But we are so happy that all of us got to finally meet her, even if she didn't consciously seem to be aware we were there. She made aliyah to Israel in 1932 and her son and his wife also live on the kibbutz. They have this great history museum, in which their cousin is the groundskeeper for it, so we were able to take a peek inside. It was wonderful to walk through all that history. I was especially curious about the children's house. All of David's cousins who were raised on the Kibbutz grew up that way, including the most recent generations. They said, they stopped the children's house about 25 years. Though landwise, this kibbutz is one of the largest still remaining in Israel, it's not doing very well. Almost all its industries are gone and the land around the kibbutz is very developed, so it doesn't have a rural feel to it. But they are resourceful and the day we were there, they were celebrating their 80th anniversary. We can't wait to return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we were suppose to head to Masada/Dead Sea/Ein Gedi, but what is a vacation, without David hurting himself. Yep, somehow (hmm, perhaps playing soccer up until our trip - though hubby is in denial) he sprained his knee. It started to flare up a week or so before we left, but with all the walking and with ALL the stairs (and believe me there are a lot of them) it really has become inflamed and very painful for him, He's been a trooper though and hasn't allow the pain to interfere with our sightseeing. He went to the emergency room yesterday to find out how serious it was, and the doctor told him to take Motrin and to stay off t for the next week. So Masada is out and instead we are driving up North to the Jezreel &amp;amp; Bet Shean Valleys to explore Roman and other ancient ruins. We will hopefully also get to take the kids to a biblical village in which the kids can pretend to live the way they did back then, including riding donkeys, making olive oil and pita, and other fun activities. I truly hope the weather stays cooperative and the area's reputation of being scorchingly hot and humid is not actualized. We have truly been so spoiled with this beautiful weather and cool nights here in the Judean desert (and even visiting the Kibbutz which is along the coast, quite near to Tel Aviv, the weather was perfect.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be posting pictures &amp;amp; videos soon but for now, it's time to get the kiddies out of bed, pack up our mini-van (which btw, is so awesome that we found a family to swap cars with) and get on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yalla, lehitraot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-2051818038948515281?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/2051818038948515281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=2051818038948515281&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2051818038948515281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2051818038948515281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/07/shalom-habibi.html' title='Shalom Habibi'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-2051426324367420185</id><published>2008-06-22T01:22:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T02:02:49.877-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Four More Days ....</title><content type='html'>Until we leave for Israel. We will be gone for three weeks and we certaintly have each day packed fun with lots of adventures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And speaking of packing ... what a (I wish I knew a yiddish word that I could insert here) that my husband has been about my over packing. Admittedly, I am terrible when it comes to foreseeing how much clothing, etc, I/we will need on any trip that we go on, but this is even more frustrating because 1) we are going for 3 weeks. 2) there are the kids to consider and they will be getting dirty alot and will be all sweaty, so that means they will want to change their clothes; 3) there's me - I don't want to have to wash my clothes over and over again especially because I airdry my clothes and if I get to take more, there are so many cute little outfits that I might actually get to wear. Ok, maybe not, but who knows, we might be able to actually enjoy a romantic night out and I can wear that something sexy that I've been holding on to, like FOREVER. I've also lost 20 lbs and so I am finally able to fit back into all those cute outfits. Yea for me!!! 4) and this is a big one, we are not staying with just one or two families. We are traveling around constantly and staying with many folks (doing the couchsurfing thing), so it's not like I can bring a few things, hang them up, do wash every few days, etc. Well, the way hubby looks at it, that's all the reason why to limit our clothing. To him, there is no need to have 12 pairs of socks, or underwear for the kids, or to have 12 tshirts/shorts for each kid. I should only bring half of that and just keep washing them. And you know, it will probably be ME doing the washin. I'm just sayin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you see, we are having a slight tug of war over this. And I hate to see the expression on his face when he sees all the shoes I am bringing for the kids and I. But hey, there are the Crocs which are great for water (Natalie &amp;amp; Noah); the hiking sandals (all three of us); sneakers (all three of us); and my nice flats (one or two pairs - uh oh, I'm ducking).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are the toiletries, including travel curlers, hair dryer, brushes, hairbands, hair products; there are the electronics (his lap top), camera, portable dvd player, videocamera, and natalie's early birthday gift - a metal detector - figured we could sneak up to an archaelogical site and search for old coins (just kidding) - nah we will try it at the beach. It's really quite small and very portable, something we picked up at Target; there are the four sleeping bags; a bag full of stuff that folks in Israel wanted us to bring to them; and of course thank you gifts for everyone's generousity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well the good news is that we will have a mini-van in Israel just to carry all this stuff around. We found these really nice folks who wanted to do a carswap, so they got ours and we got theirs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm kinda thinking that this is going to turn out like a National Lampoon vacation. Hey that's a great idea. Maybe afterwards, I will show them our videotapes, our pictures, our diary and whatever else we managed to used to document our family fun, and who knows, maybe you will soon see a trailer of the next National Lampoon movie - Israel, starring us or at least base on the true adventures of the Selvins!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-2051426324367420185?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/2051426324367420185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=2051426324367420185&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2051426324367420185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2051426324367420185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/06/four-more-days.html' title='Four More Days ....'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-441219460744373094</id><published>2008-06-17T23:04:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:34:51.977-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tim Russert, Your Presence Will Be Missed</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SFiH6QuMerI/AAAAAAAAAko/Hb6NsBOxh7U/s1600-h/timrussert2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213066003672234674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SFiH6QuMerI/AAAAAAAAAko/Hb6NsBOxh7U/s320/timrussert2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;To say that David and I were stunned to hear the news of his sudden death would be an understatement. We didn't know him personally, but like millions of other mourners, we were very sad to hear of his passing. I can't say exactly why it's affecting me the way is, but he just seemed like a gentle, warm human being, that I respected very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always enjoyed listening to his commentaries and news reports and as the moderator for &lt;em&gt;Meet the Press&lt;/em&gt;, I found him to be honest, fair, and respectful of others. Unlike some of the other political news shows, whose guests and moderators will often leave me feeling tense because of their aggressive and juvenile behavior, Tim Russert's charm, intelligence and directness without being a bully, made a difference with how I viewed these types of shows, the issues, and the guests. With him at the helm, the tone and direction wasn't angry or antagonistic but displayed a maturity and professionalism often lacking today, in politics and journalism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His wake was today in Washington DC, and I wish that I had the opportunity to go and offer my deepest sympathies. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to but just watching it on the news this evening, brought tears to my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His presence will be missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our condolences to his family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-441219460744373094?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/441219460744373094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=441219460744373094&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/441219460744373094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/441219460744373094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/06/tim-russert-your-presence-will-be.html' title='Tim Russert, Your Presence Will Be Missed'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SFiH6QuMerI/AAAAAAAAAko/Hb6NsBOxh7U/s72-c/timrussert2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-3493989590886593816</id><published>2008-05-17T23:01:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:34:53.337-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 90th Birthday Harriet</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SC-gdyJ_aOI/AAAAAAAAAjw/Lzfu3VwsYQQ/s1600-h/205118760603_0_BG.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201552077204973746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SC-gDiJ_aLI/AAAAAAAAAjY/7Jdt9y8UysA/s320/627228760603_0_BG.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Recently David and I were invited to celebrate our cousin's 90th birthday. To know this woman, you would never believe she is really 90 years old. She drives, she travels, she supports the arts, and she's a riot to go shopping with. She's a caregiver to her daughter, she has a very handsome boyfriend, she's involved with different committees and social clubs, and she is one of the funniest and wittiest women that I know - often leaving me turning red from the comments that she makes. She always seems to be doing for others without ever asking for herself, from the very young to the very old, everyone loves her and finds her easy to talk to. She is elegant and is quite beautiful, and as you can see, I just adore her. She is simply a fantastic role model for all ages.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We love you Harriet. Our lives are so much richer with you in it. Happy Birthday!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SC-gDSJ_aJI/AAAAAAAAAjI/Mo9gJ4Blepk/s1600-h/337228760603_0_ALB.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201552072910006418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SC-gDSJ_aJI/AAAAAAAAAjI/Mo9gJ4Blepk/s320/337228760603_0_ALB.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ruby &amp;amp; Harriet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SC-gDyJ_aMI/AAAAAAAAAjg/kCqQ4yG4zHM/s1600-h/937228760603_0_BG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201552081499941058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SC-gDyJ_aMI/AAAAAAAAAjg/kCqQ4yG4zHM/s320/937228760603_0_BG.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Lorraine, Harriet &amp;amp; Muriel &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Lorraine is Muriel's daughter, and Muriel is Harriet's baby sister, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;and my other Dearest Friend that I also love very much)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-3493989590886593816?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/3493989590886593816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=3493989590886593816&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/3493989590886593816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/3493989590886593816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-90th-birthday-harriet.html' title='Happy 90th Birthday Harriet'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/SC-gDiJ_aLI/AAAAAAAAAjY/7Jdt9y8UysA/s72-c/627228760603_0_BG.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-309416662660119639</id><published>2008-04-16T16:32:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T16:58:23.529-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Lessons From an Eight Year Old</title><content type='html'>Why is it that both my husband and I almost always seem to learn something new from our daughter, whenever we are driving in the car?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life lesson # too many to count -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talia: Mom, you know what Carly said to me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: "No, what did she say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talia: "Carly said that if you play with your nipples then they will pop inside and won't come out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;WHAT can I do with this information? How can I possibly redirect this into an educational lesson?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: "Well, if you touch them, sometimes they can do that but they don't stay like that. I wouldn't worry about it since you don't usually play with nipples. (NO COMMENTS!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talia: "Mom do you play with your nipples? (Mom: No) Did you play with your nipples when you were a little girl?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: "No, I had toys to play with, so no need to play with my nipples (HEY ... NO COMMENTS), but perhaps what Carly meant was not playing, but touching, out of curiousity."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: "If you are curious, it's ok to explore your body. Don't worry about them staying inside. They won't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: "Are you sure she said they go inside or that they popped outward - you know like goose bumps. When you body gets really cold, you get goosebumps, including your nipples, do you think that is what she meant?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talia: "No mom, she said that you shouldn't play with your nipples because they will go inside."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: "Well, don't worry about it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David and I have been walking around the house, just shaking our heads lately, stifling bouts of laughter, never knowing from which kid it's going to come from - these life lessons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, this is just the beginning .....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-309416662660119639?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/309416662660119639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=309416662660119639&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/309416662660119639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/309416662660119639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/04/life-lessons-from-eight-year-old.html' title='Life Lessons From an Eight Year Old'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-8541923777731879894</id><published>2008-03-21T09:25:00.024-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:34:58.215-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Merry Month of March</title><content type='html'>We've certainly been busy with many celebrations and joyful activities lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We started out with the Poetry Slam. This cool cat was the brilliant idea of David. He developed the idea with his classroom. Each student recited their own or borrowed poetry in front of the class. In the tradition of the Beatniks, they wore black and snapped their fingers in approval. It was such a hit, David was asked if he would organized a school event, opened to all students and whomever else would like to go on stage and recite poetry. The theme - a coffeehouse with candles at each table, everyone wore black, snapped their fingers instead of clapping, and even had a musician in the background, playing jazz as each one spoke. It was a huge success. He packed in a full house and kids and adults of all ages, got up and recited poetry. Even Natalie got into the act and recited, "Mr. Nobody".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181001815214217106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-ads2h_V5I/AAAAAAAAAcE/aTYSP05fAyY/s320/Poetry+Slam.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-aetWh_V8I/AAAAAAAAAcc/2d9EfENZ5ak/s1600-h/Natalie+ps+3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181002923315779522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-aetWh_V8I/AAAAAAAAAcc/2d9EfENZ5ak/s320/Natalie+ps+3.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My birthday soon followed. It started off a week before at my sister's house. She threw together a little party, where I enjoyed eating, opening gifts, and playing the wii. The celebration continued on throughout the week with the kids excitedly sharing with me their colorful birthday creations. On my actual birthday, I was awoken to lots of kisses and a birthday song. But the fun didn't stop there - my day at work was filled with birthday wishes and when I got home, I was greeted with flowers, a delicious meal and a surprise birthday cake that David made. My friend Nilofar came over and surprised me with a beautiful, hand-made table runner from Iran and we had a wonderful time watching &lt;em&gt;Lost&lt;/em&gt; together. Something we haven't been able to do in almost a year, since she moved away from the neighborhood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-agn2h_V-I/AAAAAAAAAcs/XAfh6tzSLBQ/s1600-h/JB108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181005027849754594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-agn2h_V-I/AAAAAAAAAcs/XAfh6tzSLBQ/s320/JB108.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-agm2h_V9I/AAAAAAAAAck/5IzpO_CmOK4/s1600-h/JB08.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181005010669885394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-agm2h_V9I/AAAAAAAAAck/5IzpO_CmOK4/s320/JB08.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bKeGh_WfI/AAAAAAAAAgw/lQuAYLoP0JY/s1600-h/mom%27s+bday+dave+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bKy2h_WiI/AAAAAAAAAhI/bl1ahCbbRqE/s1600-h/mom%27s+bday+dave+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bKeWh_WgI/AAAAAAAAAg4/lQ9v1vW8iEg/s1600-h/mom%27s+bday+nat+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181051044129364482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bKeWh_WgI/AAAAAAAAAg4/lQ9v1vW8iEg/s320/mom%27s+bday+nat+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181051800043608642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bLKWh_WkI/AAAAAAAAAhY/5Y3peEvDBbs/s320/mom%27s+bday+nat+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;read the card-I don't think it was chosen for the words inside : )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bKzGh_WjI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/dFMOvzJ9EQs/s1600-h/mom%27s+bday+nat+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181051400611650098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bKzGh_WjI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/dFMOvzJ9EQs/s320/mom%27s+bday+nat+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bKzGh_WjI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/dFMOvzJ9EQs/s1600-h/mom%27s+bday+nat+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bKeWh_WhI/AAAAAAAAAhA/Gds_7nw2xL8/s1600-h/mom%27s+bday+noah+1+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181051044129364498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bKeWh_WhI/AAAAAAAAAhA/Gds_7nw2xL8/s320/mom%27s+bday+noah+1+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bKzGh_WjI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/dFMOvzJ9EQs/s1600-h/mom%27s+bday+nat+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bKzGh_WjI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/dFMOvzJ9EQs/s1600-h/mom%27s+bday+nat+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181051808633543250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bLK2h_WlI/AAAAAAAAAhg/EQ4snsVwA5E/s320/mom%27s+bday+noah+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bKeWh_WhI/AAAAAAAAAhA/Gds_7nw2xL8/s1600-h/mom%27s+bday+noah+1+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Life slowed down somewhat mid-month but soon picked up again last week. There was Noah's school play, Purim, and Noah's 6th birthday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The night before Purim, Noah's kindergarten class performed a play for the parents. The children came up with an idea, wrote the play, created and painted the backdrops and costumes, and of course performed it for us. It was absolutely adorable and quite a success. Afterwards they each showed off their book reports. The subject was dinosaurs and the children had to do research on the Internet, write a story and illustrate it, and then recite it to the audience of parents. It was awesome to watch each of them reading - in Kindergarten. Their teacher, Mrs. Dean is a dynamic, amazing woman and teacher. We are very lucky to have her as Noah's teacher. Noah has already progressed into first grade reading and math levels. This is a great accomplishment. When he started Kindergarten he was slightly behind but now he is flying high.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-agoGh_V_I/AAAAAAAAAc0/7y5SVnHmq4U/s1600-h/Noah+Play+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181005032144721906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-agoGh_V_I/AAAAAAAAAc0/7y5SVnHmq4U/s320/Noah+Play+1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-ago2h_WAI/AAAAAAAAAc8/I_49WSTvTJM/s1600-h/Noah+Play+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181005045029623810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-ago2h_WAI/AAAAAAAAAc8/I_49WSTvTJM/s320/Noah+Play+2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-2c341cc8b7482630" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v14.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D2c341cc8b7482630%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331327009%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D23EC0A027D2BF69403C9997B5E7E6093D1FB79DE.6C02D448E4DE51608E831FA9AEDBDFE8E3FCFEAF%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2c341cc8b7482630%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DqKcTerJrPdLKJa3AhbXkx35rofQ&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v14.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D2c341cc8b7482630%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331327009%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D23EC0A027D2BF69403C9997B5E7E6093D1FB79DE.6C02D448E4DE51608E831FA9AEDBDFE8E3FCFEAF%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2c341cc8b7482630%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DqKcTerJrPdLKJa3AhbXkx35rofQ&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because the kids were off from school on Friday (Noah's birthday, Purim and Good Friday) and we wanted to share his birthday with his classroom, we began Noah's birthday celebration a day before. I brought in cupcakes and goodie bags. But all the fun and junk food didn't end there. A few hours after school ended, Noah, Natalie, David and I headed out for our Purim celebrations. The Megilla reading was brought to life through music, songs, and a wonderful puppet play that we enjoy attending year after year. Afterwards, I headed home with Noah (hey - &lt;em&gt;Lost&lt;/em&gt; was on - I can't miss that) and David took Natalie to our shul and continued the fun by hanging out with friends and partying it up at their carnival.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bH4Wh_WWI/AAAAAAAAAfo/imPiPRfZA5Q/s1600-h/0320081906.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181048192271079778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bH4Wh_WWI/AAAAAAAAAfo/imPiPRfZA5Q/s320/0320081906.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bH4Gh_WVI/AAAAAAAAAfg/Zb7ZLr1K0lo/s1600-h/0320081905.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181048187976112466" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bH4Gh_WVI/AAAAAAAAAfg/Zb7ZLr1K0lo/s320/0320081905.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bH4mh_WXI/AAAAAAAAAfw/fs2yHIm0bLs/s1600-h/0320081947.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181048196566047090" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bH4mh_WXI/AAAAAAAAAfw/fs2yHIm0bLs/s320/0320081947.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-e1IGh_WrI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/9AF317J5Pwk/s1600-h/Purim+Ohev+David+Natalie.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181309047109802674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-e1IGh_WrI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/9AF317J5Pwk/s320/Purim+Ohev+David+Natalie.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friday morning was filled with birthday hugs and kisses to Noah, and then delivering our Mishloah Manot baskets to the children's friends. That evening, we continued his birthday celebration with a huge family get together dinner. David's mother drove down from New Jersey to spend the weekend with us, David's uncle came by and of course, my sister and brother-n-law were there, as well as my niece and her children. A fun time was had by all and Noah was especially excited by his Spiderman birthday cake and all his birthday gifts. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bHBGh_WQI/AAAAAAAAAe4/sai3dQNWbMc/s1600-h/Noah+candles+cheeburger.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181047243083307266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bHBGh_WQI/AAAAAAAAAe4/sai3dQNWbMc/s320/Noah+candles+cheeburger.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bHB2h_WTI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/o1ieVXDNVY0/s1600-h/0321081855.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181059303351474786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bR_Gh_WmI/AAAAAAAAAho/XvJRls3Y934/s320/ryannoahbdaycheeburger.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181042583043790898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bCx2h_WDI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/xrFBDq5plHY/s320/Noah+bday+cheeburger.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181045061239920802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bFCGh_WKI/AAAAAAAAAeI/3I0I3SUfk4Q/s320/Alex+Noah+bday+cheeburger.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181059307646442098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bR_Wh_WnI/AAAAAAAAAhw/F_Gk0D1owhY/s320/DSC01449.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181042587338758210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bCyGh_WEI/AAAAAAAAAdY/yBAbxdoySh8/s320/Margi+Jaime+Noah+Bday+Cheeburger.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181042595928692818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bCymh_WFI/AAAAAAAAAdg/J5MQHhXY4eY/s320/DSC01435.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And it didn't end there either!!! The next morning, Noah continued his celebration with three close friends, his sister and Grandma. I took them out for breakfast and then to the movies to watch &lt;em&gt;Horton Hears a Who?&lt;/em&gt; Afterwards we had to time to wind down, before heading back out for dinner. Where of course, what's dinner without dessert and a little embarrassment. Yes, it was arranged to have all the servers come over and sing &lt;em&gt;Happy Birthday&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181046156456581330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bGB2h_WNI/AAAAAAAAAeg/4B1ezLk4yLo/s320/DSC01499.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181046165046515938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bGCWh_WOI/AAAAAAAAAeo/JBShTuH8KbY/s320/DSC01497.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bHBmh_WRI/AAAAAAAAAfA/XOPrOhl7UGQ/s1600-h/DSC01504.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181047251673241874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bHBmh_WRI/AAAAAAAAAfA/XOPrOhl7UGQ/s320/DSC01504.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181046169341483250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-bGCmh_WPI/AAAAAAAAAew/ayTMTM9JJ0A/s320/DSC01502.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;Whew! What a weekend. We topped it off this morning by picking up Natalie from a birthday party sleepover and then headed to the Kosher Pastry Oven for a delicious breakfast and then said goodbye to Grandma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what else is on the schedule? Plenty! Spring has arrived, the trees and flowers are blossoming, the birds are singing and there are more festivities and get togethers to enjoy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-8541923777731879894?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=12e5c5935fdec7ab&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=2c341cc8b7482630&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/8541923777731879894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=8541923777731879894&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/8541923777731879894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/8541923777731879894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/03/merry-month-of-adar.html' title='The Merry Month of March'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R-ads2h_V5I/AAAAAAAAAcE/aTYSP05fAyY/s72-c/Poetry+Slam.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-3097119292199648433</id><published>2008-03-16T04:20:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T05:39:53.652-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Are there any songs that you listen to, that almost anytime you hear them, chokes you up and fill your eyes with tears? For me, the answer is yes. I have a great attachment to music, and definitely, there are songs, that everytime I listen to them, I always get emotional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of them is Barbara Streisand's &lt;em&gt;Papa Can You Hear Me&lt;/em&gt;, from the movie &lt;em&gt;Yentle.&lt;/em&gt; When I was just 19 years old, my father passed away in Israel. Soon after he died, and I returned back to the US, this movie came out. And to this day, everytime I listen to it, I cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a clip of the song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QwCPAo5e_F8&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QwCPAo5e_F8&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Hatikva&lt;/em&gt; is another one of those songs, I get so emotional over. I don't know when it began, but whenever I hear it, no matter where I hear it - on TV, a school function, browsing through youtube, or even like today at the closing ceremony of my daughter's Bnei Akiva meeting - &lt;em&gt;The Hatikva&lt;/em&gt; always has the same affect on me ... tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here is a funny coincidence. When I was thinking of what I wanted to share in this post and the meaning behind the song, &lt;em&gt;Papa Can You Hear Me&lt;/em&gt; , I thought about a small soundbite of my father's voice that my brother had a recording of. My brother Steve put together a little presentation that he sent to all the family which included one of these priceless moments. I hadn't listen to this in a long time, so I forgot that not only was I on the clip, but, I am singing &lt;em&gt;The Hatikva. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So like me, but probably for a VERY different reason, after you listen to this &lt;a href="http://www.murray.schiffmangroup.com/myrasings.html"&gt;version&lt;/a&gt; (circa 1977), you too will cry, everytime you hear it played.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(btw, the photos in the presentation were taken a few years after the recording. They are mostly of me at my Bat Mitzvah - where you can see I still had lots of babyfat.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-3097119292199648433?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/3097119292199648433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=3097119292199648433&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/3097119292199648433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/3097119292199648433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/03/do-you-ever-songs-that-you-listen-to.html' title=''/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-1028497469635846052</id><published>2008-03-04T13:06:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T23:08:31.121-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dad, You're Not a Virgin</title><content type='html'>Uh oh, I'm not ready for this yet. I know it's just around the corner - the sex conversation but PLEASE not now. At age 6, we discussed in very dry, scientific detail the basics of how babies are born, but nothing about VIRGINS or SEX. Yikes!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out David's new blog, &lt;a href="http://arrrteest.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Random Traveler, and Other Stories&lt;/a&gt; to read about the conversation he had with our daughter, during their car ride home from school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-1028497469635846052?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/1028497469635846052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=1028497469635846052&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/1028497469635846052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/1028497469635846052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/03/dad-youre-not-virgin.html' title='Dad, You&apos;re Not a Virgin'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-7963561168357378463</id><published>2008-02-24T20:54:00.018-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:34:59.791-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey, I Remembered</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've finally remembered to upload the pictures from my cell phone. Ok, some of them have been there for a while, but here they are. Enjoy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170731913762894882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8IhR6Sc9CI/AAAAAAAAAZs/lIPDhuhRRlY/s320/0224081542.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;There's a funny story about this photo moment on my other &lt;a href="http://www.sweetooth120.blogspot.com/"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt; .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8IjP6Sc9NI/AAAAAAAAAbE/RNMM5bZiKXY/s1600-h/1224071350.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170734078426412242" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8IjP6Sc9NI/AAAAAAAAAbE/RNMM5bZiKXY/s320/1224071350.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Natalie and I having a bit of mother-daughter time in New York City. Btw, she kicked my butt at Backgammon. She is also sporting her new, beautiful necklace that she picked out and bought for herself. She was very proud. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8IjP6Sc9OI/AAAAAAAAAbM/tE43V7_7AuA/s1600-h/1224071706a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170734078426412258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8IjP6Sc9OI/AAAAAAAAAbM/tE43V7_7AuA/s320/1224071706a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8IjP6Sc9OI/AAAAAAAAAbM/tE43V7_7AuA/s1600-h/1224071706a.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8IjP6Sc9OI/AAAAAAAAAbM/tE43V7_7AuA/s1600-h/1224071706a.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170731922352829506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8IhSaSc9EI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/ZB6Xho-h0mU/s320/1118071840b.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;That's our noah always showing off with funny faces.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8Il2aSc9PI/AAAAAAAAAbU/3Pm8FjrGLMM/s1600-h/1014072312.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170731926647796818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8IhSqSc9FI/AAAAAAAAAaE/0ZwuoiNEEu4/s320/1118071840a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;That &lt;em&gt;WAS&lt;/em&gt; our cat Challah. No, Noodles didn't finally get her wish of giving him a ride of his life, but we did decide to give him away. He was a little too ornery for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8Il9KSc9QI/AAAAAAAAAbc/KrjIBBNpdR8/s1600-h/1014072313.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170737054838748418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8Il9KSc9QI/AAAAAAAAAbc/KrjIBBNpdR8/s320/1014072313.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170912680346449202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8LFr6Sc9TI/AAAAAAAAAb0/sNEycXXRXyM/s320/1014072312.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170737123558225170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8ImBKSc9RI/AAAAAAAAAbk/_-TUQQwm37c/s320/1014072314a.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;hkxx&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8IjP6Sc9OI/AAAAAAAAAbM/tE43V7_7AuA/s1600-h/1224071706a.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-7963561168357378463?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/7963561168357378463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=7963561168357378463&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/7963561168357378463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/7963561168357378463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/02/hey-i-remembered.html' title='Hey, I Remembered'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R8IhR6Sc9CI/AAAAAAAAAZs/lIPDhuhRRlY/s72-c/0224081542.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-5287676914848133601</id><published>2008-02-22T01:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:35:01.222-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And To Life Celebrated</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R75xuqSc89I/AAAAAAAAAZE/Vtcr6wVi2_k/s1600-h/0818071812.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R75xu6Sc8-I/AAAAAAAAAZM/fSpp1w9IlfI/s1600-h/0614071201a.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R75xu6Sc8_I/AAAAAAAAAZU/VvDPQJ4qFqM/s1600-h/0303072230.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169694473002480626" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R75xu6Sc8_I/AAAAAAAAAZU/VvDPQJ4qFqM/s320/0303072230.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R75wtKSc86I/AAAAAAAAAYs/R68w-kgXJtI/s1600-h/0916071618.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169693343426081698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R75wtKSc86I/AAAAAAAAAYs/R68w-kgXJtI/s320/0916071618.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R75wtaSc87I/AAAAAAAAAY0/KoxCtZIg4wA/s1600-h/0916071502a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169693347721049010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R75wtaSc87I/AAAAAAAAAY0/KoxCtZIg4wA/s320/0916071502a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R75wtaSc88I/AAAAAAAAAY8/tB-UVKLLCEI/s1600-h/0916071352.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169693347721049026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R75wtaSc88I/AAAAAAAAAY8/tB-UVKLLCEI/s320/0916071352.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169693339131114386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R75ws6Sc85I/AAAAAAAAAYk/8VcUYD8EwXc/s320/0910071726a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169693330541179778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R75wsaSc84I/AAAAAAAAAYc/BYPfff4MqZA/s320/0910071726.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-e0c29348c9bbe219" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De0c29348c9bbe219%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331327009%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D47F5BDC1B62492D65586981B3A175AA1DD75440B.48FED1EEF5F897BF5BA56B0AE435BF81B374D30E%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De0c29348c9bbe219%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DC3TBNBVcTNqyb_69BfsIH51KFjI&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De0c29348c9bbe219%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331327009%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D47F5BDC1B62492D65586981B3A175AA1DD75440B.48FED1EEF5F897BF5BA56B0AE435BF81B374D30E%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De0c29348c9bbe219%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DC3TBNBVcTNqyb_69BfsIH51KFjI&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-5287676914848133601?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=e0c29348c9bbe219&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/5287676914848133601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=5287676914848133601&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/5287676914848133601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/5287676914848133601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/02/and-to-life-celebrated.html' title='And To Life Celebrated'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R75xu6Sc8_I/AAAAAAAAAZU/VvDPQJ4qFqM/s72-c/0303072230.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-4230418003297238348</id><published>2008-02-13T11:38:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-15T09:20:43.799-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In Loving Memory of David's Father</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;z"l&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.philly.com/dailynews/local/20080214_Rick_Selvin_dies_.html"&gt;Richard M. S. (1944-2008)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"&gt;He leaves behind his wife Florence, his son David, his daughter Emily, his sister Rene, his grandchildren - Natalie, Noah and Sebastian, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;"&gt;and many other dear friends and family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:85%;"&gt;May God confort you among the other mourners of Zion and Jerusalem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Ha'Makom yenahem etkhem betokh she'ar avelei Tziyonvi'Yerushalayim&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-4230418003297238348?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/4230418003297238348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=4230418003297238348&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/4230418003297238348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/4230418003297238348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/02/in-loving-memory.html' title='In Loving Memory of David&apos;s Father'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-8151045232208898587</id><published>2008-02-10T23:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:35:01.469-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;DEATH&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past year I have been surrounded by the passings of others ... family members, family members of my friends, family members of community acquaintances, and neighbors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year ago my husband lost his stepfather and just recently his aunt just lost her mother. Within the last six months one friend of mine lost his father, another his brother, a few acquaintences have lost their parents, and four neighbors have also died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, we are about to experience it again. I know the cycle of life and death doesn't stand still, but I just feel my children are learning some life lessons quite early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, my husband and I had to sit with our children and explain to them that their other grandfather is dying. Papa Rick, who at only 64 had survived unbeatable odds not once but twice, is dying from an unidentifiable bacterial infection. He survived Non-Hodgkins lymphoma and a heart transplant. And now, it seems that his body is shutting down not only because of the infection, but of the side effects of all the drugs he has been on since late last summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its so odd to know that just last July he and his wife were enjoying playing with the kids at the family's annual 4th of July picnic. Back then, it was Rick and his wife, Florence, that was comforting my mother-n-law, for she had just lost her husband, six months prior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David and I have been discussing whether or not it was the right thing to do to have the kids see their grandfather in the hospital (which will now be transform into Hospice care) and I assure him it was. Although his father was out of it most of our visit, he did open his eyes a few times briefly and his whole face lit up when he saw them standing there. I only wish my husband and Florence could have seen it. They had stepped out of the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is difficult for the children to comprehend what is happening, why it happens (Noah, who is 5, asked why old people always get sick and die) but I think they understood just how much their presence helped a dying man, and those around him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R7E5faSc82I/AAAAAAAAAYM/yuhyAfw4r94/s1600-h/FloMeDad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165973459366114146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R7E5faSc82I/AAAAAAAAAYM/yuhyAfw4r94/s320/FloMeDad.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Florence, David, &amp;amp; Rick)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R7E5fqSc83I/AAAAAAAAAYU/ktVoXMDTMNU/s1600-h/MeDadEm2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165973463661081458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R7E5fqSc83I/AAAAAAAAAYU/ktVoXMDTMNU/s320/MeDadEm2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (David, Rick &amp;amp; Emily)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-8151045232208898587?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/8151045232208898587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=8151045232208898587&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/8151045232208898587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/8151045232208898587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2008/02/death-this-past-year-i-have-been.html' title=''/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R7E5faSc82I/AAAAAAAAAYM/yuhyAfw4r94/s72-c/FloMeDad.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-8435094961058485123</id><published>2007-11-08T22:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:35:02.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'>... Was a Summer in San Francisco</title><content type='html'>Anyone who lives, has lived or spent time in San Francisco would recognize the end of that *Mark Twain quote - "The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco". He's not that far off, it does get quite cold there in the summer. But having lived there, I made sure that we were well prepared for our summer vacation to San Francisco and the Sacremento Valley region. We spent almost two weeks there this past August and had a terrific time. One of the best vacations that we've had. The pictures included here are taken from both my nephew Joey and us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you would like to read more about our trip, &lt;a href="http://sweetooth120.blogspot.com/2007/08/wow-wow-wow.html"&gt;click here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPhR9SzvUI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/CFwKJCP2CNk/s1600-h/noah+jelly+belly+factory.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPd_tSzvNI/AAAAAAAAAUY/ovKFpGXi9dE/s1600-h/Jeff+and+Joe+Roaring+Camp+Train.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130688487065107666" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPd_tSzvNI/AAAAAAAAAUY/ovKFpGXi9dE/s320/Jeff+and+Joe+Roaring+Camp+Train.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPhRtSzvSI/AAAAAAAAAVA/yyUbfpId1TE/s1600-h/noah+natalie+triangles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130692094837636386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPhRtSzvSI/AAAAAAAAAVA/yyUbfpId1TE/s320/noah+natalie+triangles.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130688938036673794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPeZ9SzvQI/AAAAAAAAAUw/W56zOUqtbz4/s320/Joey+AI.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPhRtSzvTI/AAAAAAAAAVI/jaHAbASXJv8/s1600-h/Natalie+Noah+Mt.+Tam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130692094837636402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPhRtSzvTI/AAAAAAAAAVI/jaHAbASXJv8/s320/Natalie+Noah+Mt.+Tam.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPd_dSzvLI/AAAAAAAAAUI/9s4cG_e93n8/s1600-h/Jaime+Ice+Cream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130689393303207186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPe0dSzvRI/AAAAAAAAAU4/-bgBpTkvrIE/s320/Natalie+Benson+San+Jose.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPd_tSzvMI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/7ePIGGzfJc0/s1600-h/Raspberry+Time.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130688487065107650" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPd_tSzvMI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/7ePIGGzfJc0/s320/Raspberry+Time.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPd_9SzvPI/AAAAAAAAAUo/sarQ1sM6ksY/s1600-h/Noah+Benson+roaring+camp.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPd_9SzvOI/AAAAAAAAAUg/APUILguETDU/s1600-h/Noah+Benson.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPd_dSzvLI/AAAAAAAAAUI/9s4cG_e93n8/s1600-h/Jaime+Ice+Cream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130688482770140338" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPd_dSzvLI/AAAAAAAAAUI/9s4cG_e93n8/s320/Jaime+Ice+Cream.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*As far as it being an urban legend that Mark Twain is the author, I'm not sure. But since I'm still finding quotes that credits him, I will leave it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-8435094961058485123?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/8435094961058485123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=8435094961058485123&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/8435094961058485123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/8435094961058485123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2007/11/was-summer-in-san-francisco.html' title='... Was a Summer in San Francisco'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPd_tSzvNI/AAAAAAAAAUY/ovKFpGXi9dE/s72-c/Jeff+and+Joe+Roaring+Camp+Train.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-8905973926482361224</id><published>2007-11-07T23:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:35:04.578-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And Here's Noah</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzcskNSzvpI/AAAAAAAAAX4/3HR5yVGBWsQ/s1600-h/noah+baby+portrait.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131619300967431826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzcskNSzvpI/AAAAAAAAAX4/3HR5yVGBWsQ/s320/noah+baby+portrait.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rzcr79SzvoI/AAAAAAAAAXw/YahEWDItj2k/s1600-h/noah+baby+bathroom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131618609477697154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rzcr79SzvoI/AAAAAAAAAXw/YahEWDItj2k/s320/noah+baby+bathroom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzcrLNSzvnI/AAAAAAAAAXo/2mRDx_4NMxQ/s1600-h/noah+baby+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzcrENSzvmI/AAAAAAAAAXg/tEScsL6fvew/s1600-h/Noah+baby.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzcpVNSzvkI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/TA_AzFOCkLw/s1600-h/Noah+baby.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130697489316560210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPmLtSzvVI/AAAAAAAAAVY/uMNEEleZOTk/s320/noah.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130698532993613282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPnIdSzveI/AAAAAAAAAWg/d3baCDg7e9w/s320/Libby%27s+July+4+party+034.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Grandma's 4th of July party in New Jersey. Below, cousin Sebastien joins in the fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPn-9SzvfI/AAAAAAAAAWo/RhA0Vl_n6Jg/s1600-h/Libby"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130699469296483826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPn-9SzvfI/AAAAAAAAAWo/RhA0Vl_n6Jg/s320/Libby%27s+July+4+party+033.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPn_NSzvgI/AAAAAAAAAWw/dVrqLYLggcU/s1600-h/Libby"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130699473591451138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPn_NSzvgI/AAAAAAAAAWw/dVrqLYLggcU/s320/Libby%27s+July+4+party+036.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPnH9SzvaI/AAAAAAAAAWA/iKp2wCDu_IU/s1600-h/0813071644+(3).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130698524403678626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPnH9SzvaI/AAAAAAAAAWA/iKp2wCDu_IU/s320/0813071644+(3).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lunch break in Sutter Creek, California&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPnINSzvbI/AAAAAAAAAWI/OGJ1_jWe0bw/s1600-h/0816071613.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130698528698645938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPnINSzvbI/AAAAAAAAAWI/OGJ1_jWe0bw/s320/0816071613.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Having fun on the hammock with Nilofar, Kevin and her niece.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130701719859346962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPqB9SzvhI/AAAAAAAAAW4/juGzrws4RJg/s320/0816071614.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPnINSzvcI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/CzQQj0IsskQ/s1600-h/0605071825a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130698528698645954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPnINSzvcI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/CzQQj0IsskQ/s320/0605071825a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Showing off for the Camera at Maxes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I have no idea what is going on here, nor do I want to know. : )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPmLtSzvWI/AAAAAAAAAVg/tGqRXtO70vg/s1600-h/100_0333.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130697489316560226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPmLtSzvWI/AAAAAAAAAVg/tGqRXtO70vg/s320/100_0333.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130698528698645970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPnINSzvdI/AAAAAAAAAWY/fG79_cref2o/s320/0102071815a.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Noah, fast asleep while shopping at Target.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130697493611527570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPmL9SzvZI/AAAAAAAAAV4/WFouOxEq6rI/s320/0102071815.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPmL9SzvXI/AAAAAAAAAVo/kNFyItLJ15g/s1600-h/0102071814.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130697493611527538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPmL9SzvXI/AAAAAAAAAVo/kNFyItLJ15g/s320/0102071814.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPmL9SzvYI/AAAAAAAAAVw/Yv3bwiC2QFY/s1600-h/0416071654a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130697493611527554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzPmL9SzvYI/AAAAAAAAAVw/Yv3bwiC2QFY/s320/0416071654a.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;My Cutie Pie &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-8905973926482361224?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/8905973926482361224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=8905973926482361224&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/8905973926482361224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/8905973926482361224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2007/11/and-heres-noah.html' title='And Here&apos;s Noah'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzcskNSzvpI/AAAAAAAAAX4/3HR5yVGBWsQ/s72-c/noah+baby+portrait.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-159058766365079333</id><published>2007-10-22T22:34:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:35:07.379-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Support Your Local Farms</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124360638073216242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1i2a1ZHPI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/ivDiWBTfLiI/s320/DSC08581.JPG" border="0" /&gt;We do. One of our favorite past times during the summer and fall months is visiting local farms for their pick-your-own produce, and one of our favorites is &lt;a href="http://www.pickyourown.com/ipm.html"&gt;Larriland Farm&lt;/a&gt;. Below are pictures from our recent excusion of apple picking&lt;br /&gt;(and brocolli, beets, spinach &amp;amp; pumpkins). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will also noticed pics from our summer blueberry outing. After reading &lt;a href="http://bogieworks.blogs.com/treppenwitz/2007/07/blueberry-memor.html"&gt;Treppenwitz's post on blueberries&lt;/a&gt;, I just couldn't help myself. I rounded up the kids (aka mine and my neighbor's) and headed to the farm for blueberry picking. We also attempted to harvest the raspberries, but it was a little thorny. Mmmm, they were YUMMY. Thanks Dave, for the inspiration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1plq1ZHbI/AAAAAAAAAQw/HZqzCneGLFE/s1600-h/0712071504.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124368046891802034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1plq1ZHbI/AAAAAAAAAQw/HZqzCneGLFE/s320/0712071504.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;u&gt;Izzy, Zerai, and Miriam &lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1plq1ZHcI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/j0C0cdpaZXY/s1600-h/0712071458b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124368046891802050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1plq1ZHcI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/j0C0cdpaZXY/s320/0712071458b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1pl61ZHdI/AAAAAAAAARA/U78hz6bV3rA/s1600-h/0712071457a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124368051186769362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1pl61ZHdI/AAAAAAAAARA/U78hz6bV3rA/s320/0712071457a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1pl61ZHeI/AAAAAAAAARI/DKX6a100rmM/s1600-h/0712071458a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124368051186769378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1pl61ZHeI/AAAAAAAAARI/DKX6a100rmM/s320/0712071458a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Noah's best friend, Yobel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1pmK1ZHfI/AAAAAAAAARQ/QvBuiW-WkOw/s1600-h/0712071457.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124368055481736690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1pmK1ZHfI/AAAAAAAAARQ/QvBuiW-WkOw/s320/0712071457.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124360629483281634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1i161ZHOI/AAAAAAAAAPI/Gs9YtPjchNI/s320/DSC08574.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1j-61ZHSI/AAAAAAAAAPo/MW2Zu7UVgaU/s1600-h/DSC08590.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124361883613732130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1j-61ZHSI/AAAAAAAAAPo/MW2Zu7UVgaU/s320/DSC08590.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Good thing, I am not afraid of heights&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1luK1ZHaI/AAAAAAAAAQo/gsci0CD8Ysc/s1600-h/DSC08618.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124363794874178978" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1luK1ZHaI/AAAAAAAAAQo/gsci0CD8Ysc/s320/DSC08618.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124528605654228642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx37na1ZHqI/AAAAAAAAASo/rfdiUJHrByg/s320/DSC08607.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1kAa1ZHWI/AAAAAAAAAQI/iP2S3jK0UdI/s1600-h/DSC08616.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124361909383535970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1kAa1ZHWI/AAAAAAAAAQI/iP2S3jK0UdI/s320/DSC08616.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124528597064294034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx37m61ZHpI/AAAAAAAAASg/bfWCx-Me12A/s320/DSC08617.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Our very own&lt;/span&gt; Great Pumpkin&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124528592769326722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx37mq1ZHoI/AAAAAAAAASY/iodZjRPL4ZI/s320/DSC08600.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1kAK1ZHVI/AAAAAAAAAQA/Kp28x_yXw_Q/s1600-h/DSC08606.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124361905088568658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1kAK1ZHVI/AAAAAAAAAQA/Kp28x_yXw_Q/s320/DSC08606.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;See what eating spinach can do for you? Just ask Natalie - wow - that pumpkin sure was heavy!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noah, sampling the fruits of labor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a ref="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1vj61ZHgI/AAAAAAAAARY/z4gnoKqvxYo/s1600-h/Noah+apple.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124374613896797698" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1vj61ZHgI/AAAAAAAAARY/z4gnoKqvxYo/s320/Noah+apple.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1i261ZHRI/AAAAAAAAAPg/AVazrJIvDOk/s1600-h/DSC08597.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-159058766365079333?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/159058766365079333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=159058766365079333&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/159058766365079333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/159058766365079333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2007/10/support-your-local-farms.html' title='Support Your Local Farms'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1i2a1ZHPI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/ivDiWBTfLiI/s72-c/DSC08581.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-2139680480734765484</id><published>2007-10-17T22:10:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:35:09.514-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Cheeks - As She Grows</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Natalie, 3 and 8 months old&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzcpyNSzvlI/AAAAAAAAAXY/47bwn6l4xR4/s1600-h/Natalie+baby+pics.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131616242950717010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzcpyNSzvlI/AAAAAAAAAXY/47bwn6l4xR4/s320/Natalie+baby+pics.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122533215388114018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rxbk0a1ZHGI/AAAAAAAAAOI/MWgKMD6FPUc/s320/Zoo+Natalie+crying3.jpg" border="0" /&gt; I just love this picture - tantrum and all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122533219683081330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rxbk0q1ZHHI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/0LoNyxB_oRo/s320/Natalie+and+leaves_0003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122533219683081346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rxbk0q1ZHII/AAAAAAAAAOY/h7L5zpEJuvI/s320/Pict0014hug+(3).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rxbk0q1ZHJI/AAAAAAAAAOg/wxqvRwBdSbE/s1600-h/Bea+family.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122533219683081362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rxbk0q1ZHJI/AAAAAAAAAOg/wxqvRwBdSbE/s320/Bea+family.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousins Bea and Sandy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rxbk061ZHKI/AAAAAAAAAOo/_uZAH7hYi1Y/s1600-h/y1pLGVr3u30IP22OOxwcmDDnB-f38eYAZ4H_cCaRW6XudCmtWETulNlV2fyhcPPQJGUS2uGL4iEESg[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122533223978048674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rxbk061ZHKI/AAAAAAAAAOo/_uZAH7hYi1Y/s320/y1pLGVr3u30IP22OOxwcmDDnB-f38eYAZ4H_cCaRW6XudCmtWETulNlV2fyhcPPQJGUS2uGL4iEESg%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxbkXK1ZHEI/AAAAAAAAAN4/3ciWSCZgTE8/s1600-h/Natalie+beard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122532712876940354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxbkXK1ZHEI/AAAAAAAAAN4/3ciWSCZgTE8/s320/Natalie+beard.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxbkW61ZHCI/AAAAAAAAANo/eD5_4sY5weY/s1600-h/y1pLGVr3u30IP1rO53s3bPABPf3Z2D9G6q7haLO9eXDTTybaiYT8iyLO2l9dBrAmLZQcb7dtdcrRMU[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122532708581973026" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxbkW61ZHCI/AAAAAAAAANo/eD5_4sY5weY/s320/y1pLGVr3u30IP1rO53s3bPABPf3Z2D9G6q7haLO9eXDTTybaiYT8iyLO2l9dBrAmLZQcb7dtdcrRMU%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morgan, Natalie, Kyle and Maddie&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxbkXK1ZHDI/AAAAAAAAANw/lSu1RSRvuKk/s1600-h/y1pLGVr3u30IP3UvuU3NUAUddk8nJFfgZM3l0qtvOicEttW05xSympUlnijPZ-iT6M-kRGY9Xhjo1k[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122532712876940338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="217" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxbkXK1ZHDI/AAAAAAAAANw/lSu1RSRvuKk/s320/y1pLGVr3u30IP3UvuU3NUAUddk8nJFfgZM3l0qtvOicEttW05xSympUlnijPZ-iT6M-kRGY9Xhjo1k%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxbkXK1ZHFI/AAAAAAAAAOA/3mA43C5L9kU/s1600-h/Picture017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122532712876940370" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxbkXK1ZHFI/AAAAAAAAAOA/3mA43C5L9kU/s320/Picture017.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Bubbe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rxbjwa1ZG_I/AAAAAAAAANQ/Pvuq-EbGwg4/s1600-h/100_0007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122532047157009394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rxbjwa1ZG_I/AAAAAAAAANQ/Pvuq-EbGwg4/s320/100_0007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chilling out in California&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rxbh861ZG7I/AAAAAAAAAMw/UPR62wnMuAI/s1600-h/0805071441.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122530062882118578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rxbh861ZG7I/AAAAAAAAAMw/UPR62wnMuAI/s320/0805071441.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rxbh9K1ZG8I/AAAAAAAAAM4/LiT7nEUirIY/s1600-h/0805071642.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rxbh9a1ZG9I/AAAAAAAAANA/aptT5Rtgtk8/s1600-h/0322071953.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rxbh9a1ZG-I/AAAAAAAAANI/1EujI3k30A0/s1600-h/y1pLGVr3u30IP1rO53s3bPABPf3Z2D9G6q7haLO9eXDTTybaiYT8iyLO2l9dBrAmLZQcb7dtdcrRMU[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://travel.u.nu/photo-us_412.php"&gt;Gravelly Point Park &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://travel.u.nu/photo-us_412.php"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122529092219509634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxbhEa1ZG4I/AAAAAAAAAMY/Tp82SIxpStw/s320/0722071411.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxbhE61ZG5I/AAAAAAAAAMg/06AYTX0uT1Q/s1600-h/100_0112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122529100809444242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxbhE61ZG5I/AAAAAAAAAMg/06AYTX0uT1Q/s320/100_0112.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/R770naSc9AI/AAAAAAAAAZc/MSbG3dvxvAQ/s1600-h/Libby%27s+July+4+party+054.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxbhFK1ZG6I/AAAAAAAAAMo/81jgy_7eofQ/s1600-h/100_0133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122529105104411554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxbhFK1ZG6I/AAAAAAAAAMo/81jgy_7eofQ/s320/100_0133.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-2139680480734765484?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/2139680480734765484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=2139680480734765484&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2139680480734765484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/2139680480734765484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2007/10/sweet-cheeks-as-she-grows.html' title='Sweet Cheeks - As She Grows'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RzcpyNSzvlI/AAAAAAAAAXY/47bwn6l4xR4/s72-c/Natalie+baby+pics.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-8583616369724915013</id><published>2007-10-14T10:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:35:10.703-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Sukkah Guests</title><content type='html'>David and Natalie built this wonderful sukkah and Noah and I chopped down bamboo for the final touch of the schach (the roof covering). We decorated with all sorts of pretty lights and fall gourds. The weather was gorgeous throughout the Chag (the holiday). Thanks everyone for celebrating with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1b-a1ZHLI/AAAAAAAAAOw/YbA80fiac3w/s1600-h/DSC08547.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124353078930775218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1b-a1ZHLI/AAAAAAAAAOw/YbA80fiac3w/s320/DSC08547.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1b-61ZHMI/AAAAAAAAAO4/iiYPveHbezk/s1600-h/DSC08542.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124353087520709826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1b-61ZHMI/AAAAAAAAAO4/iiYPveHbezk/s320/DSC08542.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxItZ61ZGmI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/ZuCXy6okM9U/s1600-h/DSC08535.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121205649586854498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxItZ61ZGmI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/ZuCXy6okM9U/s320/DSC08535.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; From R to L - Margi, Larry, Jeff, Libby, David, Joe/Noah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxItaa1ZGnI/AAAAAAAAAKA/JX2vUi1lhJs/s1600-h/DSC08537.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121205658176789106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxItaa1ZGnI/AAAAAAAAAKA/JX2vUi1lhJs/s320/DSC08537.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxItaq1ZGoI/AAAAAAAAAKI/cuZSHSWaZsE/s1600-h/DSC08532.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121205662471756418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxItaq1ZGoI/AAAAAAAAAKI/cuZSHSWaZsE/s320/DSC08532.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Joe and Noah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxIta61ZGpI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/izohJdBnn2k/s1600-h/DSC08549.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121205666766723730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxIta61ZGpI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/izohJdBnn2k/s320/DSC08549.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Libby (David's Mom)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxItba1ZGqI/AAAAAAAAAKY/T8313j7jMl0/s1600-h/DSC08554.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121205675356658338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxItba1ZGqI/AAAAAAAAAKY/T8313j7jMl0/s320/DSC08554.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Jeff, Joe, Larry, Libby, Natalie, Margi, &amp;amp; David&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-8583616369724915013?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/8583616369724915013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=8583616369724915013&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/8583616369724915013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/8583616369724915013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2007/10/our-sukkah-guests.html' title='Our Sukkah Guests'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/Rx1b-a1ZHLI/AAAAAAAAAOw/YbA80fiac3w/s72-c/DSC08547.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-5445491783108582448</id><published>2007-10-13T18:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T16:35:11.063-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner and Dessert in Little Italy, Bawlmer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Waiting for dinner outside of La Tavola&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxFNCq1ZGiI/AAAAAAAAAJY/j_loBGfC7LY/s1600-h/1012072000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120958959550274082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxFNCq1ZGiI/AAAAAAAAAJY/j_loBGfC7LY/s320/1012072000.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;David and I enjoying yummy Desserts at &lt;a href="http://www.littleitalyrestaurants.com/little_italy_baltimore_restaurants_vaccaros.htm"&gt;Vaccaro's&lt;/a&gt;, Little Italy's famous Pastry Shop&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxFNC61ZGlI/AAAAAAAAAJw/qjSjBwuZdoA/s1600-h/1012072257a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120958963845241426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxFNC61ZGlI/AAAAAAAAAJw/qjSjBwuZdoA/s320/1012072257a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-5445491783108582448?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/5445491783108582448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=5445491783108582448&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/5445491783108582448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/5445491783108582448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2007/10/dinner-and-dessert-in-little-italy.html' title='Dinner and Dessert in Little Italy, Bawlmer'/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_YMtGIGU8M3A/RxFNCq1ZGiI/AAAAAAAAAJY/j_loBGfC7LY/s72-c/1012072000.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3682225402986283855.post-281454185264172671</id><published>2007-10-13T12:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T21:29:38.164-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hi Everyone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to Through Our Eyes. Pics will be posted soon - promise. Now that life will finally be settling down a bit from the whirlwind of August and September, I'll have time to play around and put up some family pictures for all to enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night David and I went to Little Italy to celebrate our 11th anniversary and not to brag, but I did look terrific, or in the words of my daughter, "Momma, You Look FABULOUS!" Though in a whim I throw up my hair and let my bangs hang down, David loved the way it looked, but I have to admit, and as well as he, that I looked like I was from Northern New Jersey with the flashback big hair. Of course, we snapped some pics with my phone and so those will be posted as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for stopping by.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3682225402986283855-281454185264172671?l=neshamashelanu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/feeds/281454185264172671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3682225402986283855&amp;postID=281454185264172671&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/281454185264172671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3682225402986283855/posts/default/281454185264172671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://neshamashelanu.blogspot.com/2007/10/hi-everyone-welcome-to-through-our-eyes.html' title=''/><author><name>... Is the Window to Our Soul</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04510255608269038123</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
