Alllllooooooo, Shalom, Hi, to my dearest children, grandchildren, family, friends, neighbors, and who ever is interesting to read.
My dear daughter in law placed a sign in her home declaring : " POLITICS FREE ZONE". However, I am in Israel, the computer is in my domain at present, and I am busting with anger, with sorrow, and with pride.
It was a difficult day for me, yesterday. Ehud Olmert, ex Prim Minister, entered jail for Offense and Violation of the law. Yes, a corrupt individual, who stained the heritage of the nation, who brought Israel to its historic ebb. 
It is also, sad to know, that Moshe Katzav, ex President of Israel is still serving time, in the same jail,  for sex violation.
Proud, to know, we here in the land of Israel, are being judged as equals. No "discounts" to selected individuals regardless to their position. After all, we the people elected them.
On an other political topic I am sadden,  or more accurately said, I am outrageously
angry, full of furor.  At present, we are plagued with what its called The "Knife Intifada".  The international news, twisting the truth telling it's readers, the Israeli army killing young Palestinian girls.
Those young girls, are "poisoned" by their family, by their teachers, by their media, that Killing the Jews are a holy action, in return for an awarded heaven.
As youngsters they look innocent, with their book bag hanging on their shoulder, they come close enough to the boarder control, or to just a passer by on the market, on the street pulling their knife or scissors and attack.
They all aware, that today, one will not come out alive in this act of violence.
In this knife Intifada, over 60 Israelis lost their life, about triple that, Palestinian.
As I was writing these lines, a 26 year old man, pulled a knife from his sleeve in the area of the Nablos gate, in the old city of Jerusalem attempting to attack security soldier. ( The news stated "the attacker was neutralized".) 
This is all for my Politic corner today. I will now enter the FREE ZONE.....
So, after the soap under my bed sheet to prevent leg cramps at night, cabbage compress to my knee for relieving pain, I started to see a Druz (Arab, see Google.)
Psoriasis Healer. The fumes from the solution, he "paints" every patch of Psoriasis on my body, is reason enough to wear a gas mask, not to mention the burning sensation I experience for at least two hours there after. Well, you all want to hear results, YES ! YES ! it is drying. He still recommends the Dead Sea sun, but as he said: Ramat Gan sun can help too. ( In Ramat Gan I must be careful not to "bake" myself too long.)
Went to see, in three dimension, the last installment of Star War. Loved it, Harrison Ford and Carry Fisher, are looking more like me, and were welcomed on the screen with applause. Israeli audience loves Star War, the place was full.
Sorry, it is late and I decided not to check mistakes.
only in Israel.
I miss you all, sending my love from here.
Ima, Savta, The Shvig, Ludmilla, Estherika (to my M'raat A'chuii), me, Esther.

My beloved family, my dearest friends, my loyal neighbor, and to all who are interested to read. 

Hope all is well with you all. ( to my dear friend who is under the weather at present, I wish a speedy recovery.As we say in Hebrew : Refu'a Sh'liema.)

I am fine, enjoying the "cold' weather of Israel. 

Long time has past since my last letter, I must start practicing my English... within about 5-6 week I will be returning to the USA.

This time in Israel, I am doing a lot of learning and absorbing culture. On a regular basis, I visit the Israel Museum,weeklyon Friday. Attending wonderful lecture and exhibit related to the weekly portion read from the Torah on Shabbat, given by Professor Avigdor Shinan. Because we read now, the book of Exodus,and the redemption of the Hebrews from Egypt, the stories gave a full arena and vision for artist to paint and sculpt. While professor Shinan enriches us with stories of our sages related to the portion of the week, the curator of the exhibit, we are attending at, enlightens us with explanation of the art in front of us. 

Every Friday, the lecture takes place in another area of the museum with another curator as a guide. Attendants are at full, standing room only. One must come one hour early just to secure the hard metal, pancake size seat, allotted for the occasion. ( I, usually, pad the chair with my coat....) 

A few weeks ago, with the encouragement of my dear sister in law, (in Arabic B'raat A'chuii,) I met with my good friend Limor in Atlit, a small community, about 8 miles from the city of  Haifa, on the Mediterranean beach. Atlit played a very significant part in the history of then Palestine and later Israel. 

In the early years of 1930, Europe was in turmoil, Palestine was closed for Jews as the British prevented immigration. Many young men and women, left Europe and attempted arrival at the shores. Some were successful, but the majority of the "illegal" boats were intercepted, and sent to the detention camp, surrounded by watch tower and barb wire, in Atlit.  After second world war ended, intercepted boats were directed to Cyprus, as seen in the movie Exodus. Today, the camp is a museum to commemorate the "illegal Immigration" to Israel. 

But now start my story. My dear sister in law Shlomit's father, Moshe Nachum Yerushalmi, played a significant part in this era of immigration. Moshe, was a Gid'oni.

An organization involved with assisting immigrants to arrive to Palestine at the time. 

As a Gidoni, he was a kind of "chairman of the boat" directing boats coming to Palestine. In 1946, his boat the Josiah Wedgwood, was intercepted with 1259 men women and children, and sent to Cyprus. Moshe was reliest by the English and return home to continue other heroic actions.  

The museum data base contains all peoples name arriving, as illegal immigrants, from 1934 to 1948, who was intercepted, and detained in Atlit or later sent to Cyprus.     Shlomit, sent a history information about her father I wanted to see. While our guide was locating on the computer Moshe's name, Limor asked if possible her father name will be found. 

Within a click of the mouse, Limor's father, Yigal Avraham came on the screen with her mother. Limor's father, a young man and his girlfriend,( later his wife, Limor's mother.)  left Romania,in 1947  with other 7557 non certificated people, arrived at the shores of Israel on the Pan-York.( later name Kibbutz Galuyot.) While on the boat, this young man, at the age of 18, was the the father, the mother, the doctor, the one you go for advise.

The Pan York was intercepted, and sent to Cyprus. In 1948, after the establishment of the state, he came to Israel and was one of the founder of Kibbutz Magen in the Negev, where he live all his life. ( Yigal Avraham died in his Kibbutz last year.)

Limor will be providing the museum with picture and other information about her parents, to be documented and place in the museum's data base. 

Now, to the wonderful things that is happening to me. 

Due to some medication I am taking, I started to experience cramping in my legs, especially at night. To you who are familiar with this "malady", know how annoying it can be those awakening and painful hours. In talking with Oria, Shlomit's Sister, she told me her girlfriend told her, (etc, etc,) to place a bar of soap under the bed sheet, at the foot of the bed. Needless to say I was laughing. Cramping continued, and while in Israel one night, it was impossible for me to find a relief. I just gave up, went to my supply closet, took two bars of soap, (if one is good, two are better.) and placed them as was directed six or seven month earlier. Miracle of Miracle, no cramps since. 

About three weeks ago my left knee started to move in her own direction, causing me pain in walking, at times, to the point I was unable to walk without a cane. Oh well, I am an old car.....One of the days as I went to my local vegetable/supermarket place, supported by my cane, picking up red and yellow peppers, a lady who was picking potatoes,approached me and said: "Geveret, ( Lady), get a large white cabbage".

When I looked puzzled, she continued, "tonight, wrap your knee in cabbage leaves".

So, I did. Now that I have bars of soap in bed, what so bad to sleep with a cabbage ? 

And then, Ruthie, my cousin from Boston, ( Who is presently visiting Israel,) sent me the latest article from a medical magazine about some kind of milk and Turmeric to cure Psoriasis......this I must explore, before I will be getting all yellow in front of all of you. 

Only in Israel.

I miss you all, See you all soon.

with much love, Ima, Savta, The Shvig, Estherika, Ludmilla, me, eem Esther.                  

My dearest children, grandchildren, beloved family, trusted neighbor, wonderful friends and anyone interested to read.

Hello, Allooo, Shalom, and Happy New Year.

I got up early and decided to write my last Blog for 2015. 

Don't know from where to begin, life in Israel can not be imagine. The last few days

are a mix of reality show, soap opera, thriller movie, and a far out ferry tale. In

the last two days, Israel stood on it's heels. Among all the news, I am unable to write in one "short" letter, is the conviction of the past Prim Minister of Israel, Ehud Olmart. A story of, bribery, money laundry, deceiving, that was going on for years. All connected to a monstrosity complex building on top of a Jerusalem hill, name Holyland. ( my opinion: not Holy at all, just ugly, built against environmental and architectural suggestions.)

For the first time, in Israel, a prim minister will be serving jail time.

But, what is most special to this country, are the group of five Upper Court judges, who deliver the verdict. The "Av Bet Din", the presiding Judge, name Salim Ghubran, is an Arab Israeli judge. Now, this you will not hear in Europe, or America, were critiques of the state of Israel, are rampaging. Talks of Apartheid and the need for BDS are ringing from their Parliament houses. 

Where is the Apartheid ??  

I will not tire you with the sex scandals going on, or the trails and tribulation of Sarah Netanyahu, wife of Benjamin. (Bibi.) Those stories, juicy as they are, are the daily injection of laughter for me. 

I visited my beloved Karmel Market (Shook HaKarmel), the other day. Literally, it was difficult to navigate in the narrow street. I was able to detect tourist, locals, and most impressive, two groups of young people visiting Israel for the first time 

with "Taglit" (discovery). I had the opportunity to speak with a young girl from NYC,

first time traveler, with a group of 136 youngsters from all over north America. The group, accompanied by five security people, young guys, past combat soldiers from the Israeli Army. This is life now, I feel most comfortable, when I see soldiers with guns on the bus, on the train, on the street and in the market.

My "Magi-Mix", (food processor) story. 

I love to prepare my own Humus-Tahini. Without a food processor it is practically impossible to achieve the smooth texture. Was suggested by all the "Mavins" in Israel to get a Mini Magi-Mix. looking in my neighborhood, I could not find one. So, one goes to the big mall in Tel-Aviv at the Dizengoff Center.  Bingo!  In the beautiful housewares store I found my mini processor. 275 Shekel (= $72) and it could be mine. The only thing that held me from buying was the large, On/Off  Red button on the top of the machine. Did not match my Blue decor in my kitchen. You would think I am going to wear it....  I decided to further look, after all, I don't need to wear it for the next Bar-Mitzva I am invited.

Yesterday, I was visiting the south part of Alenby street in Tel-Aviv, my past life neighborhood. Looking in windows just for fun, I notice a small store packed to the

tilt with boxes of all sizes containing electric appliances. I ask the shopkeeper for my "Mini", and in a second the box was in front of me. Magic of Magic, my Megi-Mix was in front of me. Same thing as the one from yesterday, identical twin,  with a Silver Button. The price: 100 Shekels (= $26)......I think I will wear it to my next Bar-Mitzvah invitation........

Only in Israel. 

Again, I wish you all, a happy and a healthy new year. Don't drink and drive. 

To my dearest family, loyal neighbor, wonderful friends,  Shalom, Hello, Hi, and AAALLLOOO !

Long time has past since last I wrote. Must admit, the Muse did not shine her face upon me. 

I am in Israel, and of course,enjoy every minute. I arrived in the middle of November, and within a few days went to stay at the Dead Sea. I can not consider my stay at the wonderful hotel as a pleasure trip, I was there for Medicinal purpose. I needed the Sun, to heal my Psoriasis. Out of the 8 days, only 5 were suitable for sun exposure. One day was a rain day - very unusual in the area, and the other days, the sky was covered by heavy clouds. Because the Dead Sea is located, 400 meter ( 1400Ft) below sea level, the sun rays that reaches the area are pure UV rays, which are the healing rays for Psoriasis. For 5 sunny days, I exposed my self for about 5 hours, daily. Was told the best time to be there are the month of May, September, October. 

Happy to tell you, I am not fully cured, but what a noted improvement. To my dismay, the Dead Sea water are not recommanded for people with tendency for high Blood Pressure. Dipping in the very salty water it is like being "pickled" in salt. 

I took a day off today. Stayed home, did my laundry, took advantage of the mild sunny weather, and hang the laundry on the lines. What a fresh smell to my clothes. Tomorrow, towels.......

I return to my place of volunteering. "ALEH".  Genuinely  welcomed. The staff was happy to see me as I was happy to see them. Met new staff, especially other volunteers. 

I was impressed by a young lady, in her midst of a Master Program in Brain research  Science, at Bar-ILan University. She devotes her daily visit to one child born with a brain malady. ( I am not sure if it is CP.) Not verbally communicating and unable to use her limbs. Because, not being there since last February, I was amazed at the progress the child did. Able to stand and walk a few steps with help. She holds wedges of apple and able to eat and swallow. Look like normal to us, but it is big steps for Z. ( I am unable to identify her by name.)

Last week, the Thursday visit, the plan was a cooking show, for me to conduct. However, unexpected, the main teacher had a PTA meeting and was unable to come. But, the other teachers, care givers, volunteers, we all improvised a show. Out side the rain was fearless, thunders and lightnings. A video was placed on the large screen about rain. Any one, who did have an umbrella, opened it danced to the music. ( I should taken a picture.)

I love this place.

Politics in Israel, the usual. We might have a general Union strike, tomorrow. 

The Knife Intifadda, the cars slamming into bus station, continue. What a sturdy, nation we are having here. I am sure, here in Israel, we are aware and more knowledgeable About the atrocities the extremist Islam are committing.  Please, take into account over 1 BILLION Muslims, the so call "minority" radicals are MILLIONS folds. The majority is irrelevant in view of the ISIS, DA'ASH, ISEL, minority causing havoc in the world.

To all my friends, celebrating the Christmas Holiday, I wish you Holiday Greetings from Israel. And to all, Happy New Year.

I miss you all, Much love, Ima, Savta, The Shvig, Estherika, Ludmilla, Me, eem. Esther.     

Hi to you all my dearest.
I guess Ayumi, Aiden, Elino'ar and Shir do not have a E-mail Address.
So, things in Israel are not happy now. This is the "Knife Season" or any other means of sharp objects war.
I went to Tel-Aviv today. Visited the HaKarmel market, and the Nachalat Benyamin Midrachov. Glad to report, the places were busting with people.  Alenby St. looked like always, busy, busy, busy.
I shopped for wool in preparation to knit Jacob, Adam, and Avishay's scarves.
Good news, we are awaiting last approvals and signatures, for the start of the renovation of our buildings.
( 3 in the complex). Estimate starting date, February/March. What is driving the builder to start is the building across the street due for "Pinui/ Binui. Which mean, the old building will be leveled and a new one will be erected. The entire project, all 4, will be supervised by the same builders, saving time and $$$, man power, deliveries etc.
I visited cousin Esther Mandelbaum today, fed me lunch, sent regards to you all.
Had to change the the dates my staying at the Dead Sea.
The plan was, I will leave to the hotel on Sunday morning after my week end visit with Ditza. Could not 
find car service, home pick up, in Jerusalem.  Only option to travel is by bus from main bus station.
The car service companies, due to the unsafe situation, traveling to the Dead Sea via the territories, by way of Jerico refusing to start the trip in Jerusalem. I change my reservation by one day, leaving on Monday from Ramat-Gan. I will be picked up from home, and will return to my home 8 days later.
From Ramat-Gan/Tel Aviv, rout is south to Be'er Sheva, Arad, to the Dead Sea.
I already told you about the Rakevet Kala, ( translation: light train) being built. In Ramat Gan the train will be underground.
How do the Posner kids feel after their stomach episode ?
Take care, I love you all,   Ima, Savta, The Shvig, Ludmilla, Me, Esther. 

Allloooo to my dearest children, grandchildren, family, friends, neighbors, and all of you who are

interested in reading. 

NYC is in the midst of a hot and humid summer. I did not leave my home today. Amongst all the things I did in the house, I also took time to reminiscence of summers in years gone by.  Two of my grandchildren went to a sleep-away camp in Marshall, Indiana, which brought me to Camp Ramah in the Pennsylvanian Pocono Mountains during the years 1970-72. 

As you all know, I am a nurse, and during those summer years I was a camp nurse.  Avishay, my older son, was a camper, Adam was in the day care - Gan. ( In 1972, he was "adopted" by the senior camper group, called "The Chavura",  to be  kind of their mascot.)  Tanya was cared for by a Baby Sitter, a camp hire. 

I remember  those wonderful years with fondness. 

Camp Ramah had a camp mother named Jean Blum.  Jean was from Cherry Hill, New Jersey,

where the majority of the children in camp came from. Jean, very active in the Jewish communities of Cherry Hill and Philadelphia, knew most of the people living in the area, having connection to business, factories, and stores. 

Every year, when she came to camp, she had a "treasure" of gifts she received from donors in the form of arts and crafts material, spools of wool and fabric. 

In 1972, Jean came to camp with a large roll of beautiful lightweight upholstery material. 

My assigned bunk, in close distance to the infirmary, had two bedrooms and a bathroom. Real luxury apartment.  As I was settling into my summer dwelling, Jean came in with a large roll of fabric, offering to give me a piece to cover the window in the master bedroom.  I remember splitting the fabric half way, as Jean cut two strips for tying the just-made-to-order curtains.

With thumbtacks we placed the drape on the window. Jean was looking around and decided

that another curtain was needed for the bathroom. In one strong rip, she cut another piece of fabric and, then, as I was having a complete suite, Jean looked around and made a decision only a seasoned decorator could make:  the large bed  was in need of a cover. With one stroke, she tore a large piece for a bed cover.  I wanted another piece for making pillow cases, but chose not to ask.

However, the fabric was beautiful for its time. Large orange colored flowers on a background of light brown and yellow. 

The year was 1972, the going style for skirts was long as it was called then, the Maxi, and the fabric was the perfect type for those skirts.  As Jean and I admired the look of my bungalow, I asked her for a piece of the fabric, so I could sew a skirt.  At this, Jean jumped to her feet, with a quick "NO!!!"   I was surprised at her response, for I could not understand why she was so generous in giving me all the fabrics for the cabin, but yet refused to cut me just one yard for a skirt. 

Jean asked me to sit, and proceeded to tell me a story:

It was winter, when she received the roll of the fabric from one of her acquaintances in Philadelphia.  One day, during that winter,  the Cantor's wife came over to discuss some private matters.

She saw the roll of fabric and asked about it. Jean told her about the final destination for the roll of the fabric.  The Cantor's wife, very humbly, asked Jean if she could give her a few yards to make herself an outfit for an upcoming Bar-Mitzva.  Without hesitation, Jean cut for her a few yards.

The Cantor's wife was a fine amateur seamstress, and from this fabric made for herself a beautiful long skirt, a Bolero top, and to complete the outfit, she sewed a nice turban for her head, as she was a religious woman and kept her hair covered.

Finally the Bar-Mitzva party date arrived.  The Cantor's wife dressed up in her beautiful costume.

Arriving at the Marriott Hotel in Philadelphia,  she was mortified to see the decor of the Lobby was matching her outfit. 

As guests of honor, the cantor and wife were seated at the dais, where a long drape curtain hung in the back. All the chairs in the hall were also upholstered in same fabric, and the Cantor's wife with the beautiful turban was matching, too.

Not insisting, I thanked Jean, for what she gave me. 

 I am looking forward to seeing all my children and grandchildren at Benji's Bar-Mitzva,

coming soon in Milwaukee.

I love you all.  Have a wonderful summer.

From :  Ima, Savta, The Shvig, Estherika, Ludmilla, Me, Esther.

Shalom from NYC

Hi, to all my dear family, friends, neighbors, and all who are interested in reading.
I said , why not ? Why write my letters only  from Israel ? After all, I am not, as yet,  finished telling all the "Good" family stories. I must credit Tanya, (my daughter), who continuously asks me to write the "stories" I tell her.

This event, for me, started in the year 1947, about one year before the establishment of the state of Israel.
My Uncle, Chaim-Dovid, as he was called, came from America.  Suddenly, I had an uncle, and no less but from America. Uncle Chaim-Dovid was my mother's brother, second child to a family of 13 children.
Never, until his arrival, did  I remember his name  mentioned.  My Uncle came to visit his son Yankev, as we called him (Yaakov-Jacob).  Cousin Yankev was married to Yospa, and they had two children, Moshe, and Noorit.
Yankev arrived in Israel at the end of the 1920s, as a pioneer with the left Zionist movement of HaShomer HaTzayir.
Though Yankev was my cousin, he was a bit older than my mother, she told me. Chaim-Dovid was 26 years my mother's senior. In our entire family that year, we counted  18 people, and now, an uncle came and we were 19.  At his arrival, we were invited and we all gathered at Yankev and Yospa's apartment in Tel-Aviv.   I was in awe, seeing this beautiful uncle from America. In my eyes he looked tall and large, with a shock of blond hair and a mustache.  While Yankev had gray hair, father and son looked more like brothers.  He wore a white cuffed shirt and a bow tie. What a beautiful Uncle from America I had !
During this visit, he gave presents, mostly to the adults. My mother received a red short sleeve cardigan made from, then, the new knit synthetic fabric. What was unique to the cardigan was the small gold color metal beads attached to the left side, chest area, in the shape of a crab(!)  You can tell by now, this was not my mother's style, and I was given this cardigan. It was my prize possession for years, until I was about 16 or 17 years old, and the crab on my chest grew up with my new figure as a young woman (!!!!!)
Back to Chaim-Dovid.  His grandson, Moshe, was celebrating his Bar-Mitzvah on this occasion.  I am not sure of the amount of time Chaim-Dovid spent in Israel during this trip . My parents told me he flew on an airplane for 3 days from America to Israel, with several stops over on the way.
One year later, after the establishment of the state of Israel, Chaim-Dovid came again, this time with a lady name Suralae. There was no mention if she was his wife or just a lady friend.  On this trip, Chaim-Dovid and Suralae used a boat as their means of transportation.
Again, I remember him beautiful, with his blond hair and his bow-tie.
The years that followed, my parents communicated with him by mail, where I learned he lived on the Grand Concourse in the Bronx.
I also learned he worked in the garment district of NYC, traveling daily two hours on the subway.
Some time during the 1950s, Yankev and Yospa moved to the USA, and my Uncle Chaim-Dovid did not come to visit Israel any longer.
During the time between Yom-Kippur and Succot, in 1961, the news of his death was told to my mother by Moshe, the grandson, who was already married, having stayed in Israel in spite his parents moving to America.
At the request of  Yankev, who was not religious,  my father said the customary Kaddish three times daily for one year. I remember, when I came for a holiday visit the eve of Succot, I was pregnant with my son Avishay.  I observed my mother in her stocking feet and I was surprised to see my father returning from the market with a the Chalot  (The Shabbat & Holiday bread).   I asked about the unusual situation (my mother not wearing shoes,
my father doing the family shopping), when my mother said: " I don't have a brother any longer."   After that, I  cannot recall ever discussing my uncle Chaim-Dovid again with my parents.
Years later,  when the family grew to more than 19 people, the story of Chaim-Dovid was told at a family gathering. It seemed every one in the family knew the story but me.
In the early 1920s , my uncle, living in Poland and married with three children, told his wife one evening that he was going outside to close the window shutters for the night. ( Window shutters, in those years, were closed from the outside). Chaim-Dovid never returned to his home, abandoning his family behind. 
Yankev, the older son, joined the youth pioneering Zionist left labor movement, Hashomer HaTzayir, and immigrated to Israel (Palestine at the time).  No one heard from Chaim-Dovid again until 1946-1947,
when second world war ended. Chaim-Dovid and Yankev  survived the Holocaust, while their other family members who were left behind in the small city of Wengrov, Poland  went to Treblinka.
Once Chaim-Dovid was sure that he would not find his family he left behind while he went for a moment to close the shutters, he got information about his surviving son. And then, he arrived in Israel, and I inherited a red Acrylic cardigan with a jeweled crab on the left chest area.
My dear mother, Pearl, who distanced herself from gossips, never mentioned this story.
I must conclude this writing in a different note than I usually do in Israel.
Yes, I still miss you all who live in Israel, This story does not belong only to Israel.
With love to you all,   Ima, Savta, The Shvig, Estherika, Ludmilla, Me, Esther.