Yesterday after laundry and dishes, I traveled to Tel Aviv. On the way I picked up some things for my mother in Jerusalem. Going via Jerusalem isn't the easiest way, but I had no choice, since I had to get the stuff before dd#3 goes to NJ.
Actually, I haven't finished with all of the laundry, just 3 loads including hanging to dry, taking in and folding-sorting and folding-sorting clean stuff from the past week-plus, which I haven't had time to do. I did that to the CSI Miami, which my husband recorded for me Saturday night when I was at the NCSY Reunion. To be precise, I was afraid I'd miss the bus, so I still haven't seen the last 8 minutes of it. Of course, unlike last week, when I had to run (which is bad for my heel) to catch the bus, this time I waited the 8 minutes plus!
Since I had to be in downtown Jerusalem, I decided to take a "sherut" to Tel Aviv. A "sherut" is a taxi-like service; actually the word "sherut" means "service." They supplement the buses, and there's a company which leaves from the center of town, which saved me the time of going to the bus station and all that involves. My daughter also reminded me that they drive like maniacs, so the trip takes less time. I hadn't been on one for decades. When we were first in Israel, 36 years ago, we took them, since they were closer to the Old City where we were living. Then they were crowded station-wagon type cars, in which 7 passengers crowded rather intimately together; the front seat was a prize. Now they're well-fitted vans, 10 passengers plus driver. The back row is less pleasant, but there are seat belts so we won't go flying.
I was surprised that there were quite a few Arabs in the cab, including the driver. It saves them security checks. My daughter told me that there is usually a high proportion of foreign workers who also like to stay away from the authorities.
Once I got to Tel Aviv, I took the #5 "sherut" which follows the bus of the same number. Then I went out to eat with my daughter. We went to the new "meat" Lilith restaurant. There used to be a dairy one of that name. It's run by a rehabilitation group that takes kids "at risk" and teaches them to be gourmet cooks, waiters, waitresses etc. We had a nice meal and then shared sorbet for dessert.
Then we took a cab to the train station so I could catch a bus to Jerusalem. I was tempted to try going home via Ariel, which I will do some time. Of course there was too much traffic leaving Tel Aviv, and I got to the Jerusalem bus station just after 8. I was trying to take the 8pm bus, which still goes up. I ran to check and found out that it had just left. So considering that I was not going to wait a full hour for the next one, I just ran back out and took the bus to French Hill to catch a "ride." Lots of people were waiting.
When a car finally showed up and said Shiloh, I pushed my way in. The driver said that he had to pick up his daughter and didn't know where she was. He didn't have a phone (hard to believe in this day and age) so I gave him mine. And after tons of calls back and forth, I explained where he had to go and I got a ride all the way home.
Now, I have to get ready for my exercise class, then straighten up and gather things my daughter left when they were staying here, since her bathrooms were being redone. And then I have to go to work and then babysit and...
Yes, busy!
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