The Unblog-able.

Strange title - of course I made the word up. It is based on some inner feeling or working of my sub conscious. All is UN - unbelievable, unblog-able, unforgivable. This is how I feel - no clarity, nothing to hold on to. The mundane continues, of course, and life is lived.  Books are read, art is seen  and looked at, and something is felt in response. Music is listened to. Gardens are grown.  Holidays are observed (celebrated is NOT a word I can use at this time).  The spelling bee is played by me, faithfully, every day for the last few year now.

I had an eye infection, and it was attended to, and is now better. I went to Budapest for a few days, and enjoyed walking around the lovely and interesting city and took pleasure in a refreshing break from the constant stress of life here. Of course I instantly fell back into it. The taxi driver who took me back from the airport saw to that as he lectured me on the absolute necessity of this political war and how we should crush our enemies.  I informed him that I do not feel the same way and tried to maintain silence, but he had a dreadful habit of asking me questions and waiting for my answers.  Hmms and sighs were NOT going to suffice.

The Houthis are in the habit of a missile a night, it seems.  Also we now have an updated app from the Home Front Command.  When it has been detected that a missile has been sent we receive an alert that in the next 5 minutes the sirens will probably sound and we must go to the nearest shelter.  This is to give us time to prepare and get to a shelter safely, but sometimes the missile is intercepted and the alarms don't sound.  I don't know what is more adrenaline producing for me - the warning, or the alarm without a warning.

We are traumatised, we are grieving, we await the remaining 58 hostages, we shout our protests,  We watch what is happening in Gaza and the West Bank in horror.  We watch the Haredim refuse to fight while our young men are dying and being wounded and go crazy.  

This is the unblog-able.