January 8, 1973
The car is in the shop. No surprise with that Fiat. So my husband and I are walking to work. How romantic? It would be if he weren’t half a block ahead of me. That’s always been his version of walking together.
Prices are high in the grocery stores because of the cold weather and the fact there hasn’t been rain for three weeks. And this is the rainy season.
Work continues to be interesting—in an Israeli way. That project I was working frantically on for two weeks because they needed it “immediately” has been just sitting around, as no one seems to care about it anymore.
The typewriter sharer is leaving. The word is she got a job as a part-time teacher. You won’t believe what she’s done. She went around to all the offices and stole the IBM Selectric balls. Let’s hope she has a typewriter at wherever she lands.
Work has really slacked off lately. I’ve just been sitting in the office, reading “The Caine Mutiny.” The Tel Aviv University library has books in English, but they aren’t current. This is why I read “Gone With the Wind.” Yes, for the first time. My only conclusion is that Scarlett O’Hara was one stupid woman.
Israela came in for an hour. I don’t expect to see her much this week, as her boss is out of the country.
Ben’s teacher Hava is finally coming to appreciate him. He made a cowboy collage out of leather, and it was very impressive. Thank God, because art is so important in these schools. I wonder if we expect too much of Ben. In Israel you have to get fresh food every day. There’s a corner shop where we send him each morning before school to pick up our breakfast of bread, laban and milk. Let’s just say he speaks Hebrew better than I do. Every Friday we settle accounts with the brothers who own the store.
We’re still on and off about staying in Israel. I hate the fact that we have to go back to Urbana after the sabbatical. It’s so boring there. On the other hand, we really don’t have the money to live in Israel and can I really live without all the goodies America provides? Probably not.