Finally I poke my head out from under the pile of end of year reports and other fun activities that have delayed my first blog post of 2007.
We celebrated in the usual way – my husband fell asleep on the sofa while I watched a truly dreadful selection of TV programs. Just before midnight I nudged hubby awake and we gave a toast to the New Year. A few seconds later my parents phoned with their best wishes.
In Israel New Year like Christmas is pretty much a non-event unless you are Russian, Argentinean, a Kibbutz volunteer or a Tel Avivian.
For some weird reason Israelis name the celebration Sylvester, after a saint, giving it a Christian connotation which leads to objections from the religious and confusion among Olim (new immigrants). To me Sylvester is, and always will be, the black and white cat that is forever trying to make a snack out of Sweety Pie.
I wish we were able to visit more often but I don't think I could ever go back to live there permanently.
ES
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