I’m so proud of Rafi. His ganenet (preschool teacher) told me this morning that he hears a song once and knows it. Of course, I knew that already. Like every parent in the whole word forever and amen, I think my child is a genius.
It rained every day here for a week–very unusual for after Pesach. On Shabbat it hailed, which tore and bruised my beautiful little seedlings. Hopefully they will recover. On Sunday I hung out two loads of laundry to dry, thinking the rain was over. It got rained on four times, and some of it is hanging out there still.
I’d take the rain over a sandstorm any day though. We had a very bad one recently, and I’m told it’s the worst in four years. When you think of a sandstorm, what do you picture? Is it sand blowing in your eyes? That would be bad, but it’s more insidious than that. The air feels thick, the sun is a pale disc of light, and pollution from Egypt is trapped over the city. In the recent sandstorm, visibility dropped to a kilometer. I went to look out over the bay and couldn’t see a thing past the edge of the cliff, only grayish-white fog. It was pretty unsettling.