Cleaning. Clarifying. Getting rid of other people’s stuff to make room for our stuff. So while taking a photo of some of the most random stuff here, I switched to do a random editing of my contact list on my phone. I switched ISHI’s to his Israeli one; I un-starred people who I really don’t contact that often; and that’s when I realized Home isn’t home anymore. Our home phone doesn’t exist anymore. Or at least, it is not in service at this time, so I deleted it.
There is no such place as Home.
Yes, I’m feeling dis-oriented. We are in the middle of a war of stuff. Okay, wars. I’m not sure who will win, but it’s probably not me. Besides moving all of the old things that have been here forever, we are dealing with a large amount of bureaucracy for our own things that should arrive tomorrow.
Yes, bureaucracy for bureaus! I am so tired out from the ordeal that I think the word “bureau” should be deleted, and “burekas” should be put in instead. No, I’m not hungry, either. Just getting to that giddy stage of exhaustion where words start doing their funny dance in front of my eyes.
Our neighbor here in Tzfat stopped by earlier this evening to drop off a pamphlet about his work. Did I mention that we are in the Artists Quarter? Jan Menses is a man who has lived in many places and has many stories to tell that accompany his fine art. Extraordinary stories. He has had a long arduous journey to get to his home here in Israel. We are looking forward to hearing more stories from him. He has yet to show us his garden which provides shade for us on one of our porches.
I think I need to buy some plants of my own. We inherited some succulents and some lovely geraniums, but yes, something of my own to make me start feeling at home.