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Cawfee and Moving Day

6 Oct

This past Thursday I moved from Jerusalem, where I have lived for the past four years and moved to Tel Aviv.

Four years in Jerusalem is the longest span of time I spent in once city as an adult. This move felt like I was moving away from Home, again. Yet it was a move I wanted, no needed, to do for a long time.

Three years ago was the last time I moved apartments. It was my third apt in a year and a half and I made it into home. I had two very different and very wonderful roommates in that old apartment on Yehoshua Ben Nun.

It took me over a year to feel like that apartment was “my home” and not just where I lived. I feel very strongly about living somewhere that “feels like home”. It is not like I can just drive over to my parent’s house and wrap myself in that familiar coziness.

My new apartment with Stephanie felt like home in less than 24 hours of living here.

Lets go back to the day of moving….

I had arranged for the movers to come on Thursday around 9:30am (they were coming from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem) and I woke up at 7:30am after being up till 3 the night before packing. I had packed 4 boxes before Rosh Hashana and I had the rest of my apartment to pack. In the end I had packed 12 boxes, 6 suitcases, 2 duffel bags and two laptop bags.

Anywhoo- I needed to go get cash out of the ATM to pay the movers and I figured I’d have a problem with my account. Partly due to the fact that pre-Rosh Hashana my bank’s computer system crashed (hopefully not connected to the market mess out there) while waiting to transfer my $$ into Sheklaim. I have this wonderful bank teller in my bank who took my details and said she’d take care of the transfer once the computers were back up and running and low and behold two days later the $$ was shekalim and in my account.

So with my early morning errand completed I had time to grab a cup of cawfee at Aroma. I took it to go and hopped on a bus back to Yehoshua Ben Nun. Arrived in my soon to be empty apartment and sat down on my couch to think about this move. But of course me being a klutz I managed to spill my cawfee on the floor. Not on the boxes or suitcases but the little 1×1 foot of space without boxes.

Now three years ago on my moving day I spilled cawfee on myself but it was much worse. I made hot turkish cawfee for my 5 movers (yeah 5) and as I came downstairs to hand it to them on that chilly morning I slipped (here comes my klutziness), smacked my back on the stairs hard and spilled the boiling hot cawfee on myself. Yeah I have a scar from that move.

So it looks like every time I move I am bound to spill cawfee… As long as I know this I can make sure not to bang my back, burn myself or spill on my packed boxes/suitcases.

Stay tuned for Part Two: The moving truck filled with my stuff and the fire in the truck….

ps- the movers were incredible and ridiculously cheap. Victor’s movers: 052.220.2248


Find a Penny Pick it Up… All day long you’ll have good luck

4 Nov

This morning after a 6:30am wakeup and an hour walking with my friend S. we ended up at the Coffee Mill drinking our first cup of cawfee. I forgot how much I love hazelnut and Irish cream cawfee. The aroma brought me back to the good old days getting cawfee with my dad at 7-11. What a wonderful smell to get the day started….

The conversation veered towards a story which occured Thursday night on my way from one bar to then next via a taxi. One of the girls in the taxi found a NS 50 bill in the car and exclaimed that the next place we went out she’d buy us all shots with this money.

You know that if she bought us all a drink – it would be THAT drink that would make us feel ill or push us over from being tipsy to really really drunk.

It is just bad karma to use money found for your own personal gain.

This morning I came across this story from Newsday (my former local newspaper which I read daily just to keep up with the old hood) “Twenty Dollers turns into Millions for lucky West Hempstead Woman.” Ms. Torres found a $20 bill outside a 7-Eleven convenience store and used it to buy a lottery ticket. She won the lottery using money found on the floor.

She better watch her back. She not only used money that wasn’t hers, yes it was found and some people do consider it finders keepers loosers weepers, but WON!! I mean – c’mon now! This is not teaching the readers of article the good morale of the story. This is teaching us to use whatever we find to help us reach the next level.

I just hope Ms. Torres donates money each year to a charity in honor of the $20 that changed her life for the better.

Better yet.. she should go around once a year on the anniversary of winning the lottery and leave a $20 bill in the parking lots of 7-11 across Long Island…

Cawfee.. my soon to be x-love

7 Oct

As a former Long Islander I pronounce coffee “cawwwwfee” and so for all intents and purposes on this blog the word coffee does not exist and cawfee does.

I have been drinking cawfee since the age of 16 and my heart and soul used to belong to Dunkin Donuts. Ahh- the perfect smell of ground coffee and donuts in the morning before I boarded the train to work.

Perfect that was until my first visit back to Long Island after moving to Israel. We drove straight from JFK airport to one of the four Dunkin Donuts near my childhood house.

I remember ordering my overly salivated Dunkin Donuts ice coffee at the Merrick Road location and took my first sip through the straw. To my chagrin the cawfee taste so weak, so full of water! I had been looking forward to this moment ever since my Nefesh B’Nefesh plane flew me to Israel 9 months before.

And this cawfee tasted terrible!

It took me until I returned to Israel to understand why. Here in Israel the only cawfee I drink is a cafe ha-fooch or a Latte. The cawfee I drink here has almost no water to it but is all milk. Milk base cawfee….even cold cawfee.. One shot of espresso with either cold or steamed hot milk.

At home to make instant cawfee (yes sometimes I resort to instant cawfee) and I have come to boil milk in a saucepan and add it to the instant cawfee and brown sugar in my glass mug.

But soon all this will come to an end. No more daily cawfee for me.

Au Revoir mi amour……….