adjusting my body clock
Suffice it to say, we're back. And except for the driving, I miss Israel already. Might be the fact that I have four (count 'em--4) kids there.
One was just married-the reason for our visit back so soon after our last one six months ago-and to my great surprise, two more are in (what they say are) serious relationships.
I say, make a double wedding, which would save us a boodle of money (you know, kill two birds with one stone, two for the price of one, etc.) My husband just says send them tickets to elope to Cyprus and gamarnu.' I hope he's joking. (Don't know how we will pay for another wedding though; have to pay this one off, first!)
Meanwhile, while I was sleeping-er-gone-from-blogsville, Elie was kind enough to tag me for the Meme of Eight (why do I have this uncontrollable urge to shout out a la Dori in the movie Finding Nemo: Pick me! Pick me! )
Well, (never begin a sentence with 'well') I am too tired to do anything about it now; having been trying to hold out and stay awake until 8 or so in order to get my body clock into local time, I am fighting a losing battle.
It's 5:45 p.m. and I ain't gonna make it 'till 8 (guess I'm just too old to traipse around the world like that. Or not.)
Unpacking will have to wait 'till probably just before Shabbat, knowing me.
But I promise (bli neder) that I'll get to the Meme of Eight for my next post.
For now (yawn), lailah tov!