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Friday afternoon, about 16:10. I'm busy with my customary Friday afternoon activity of dozing off with the Shabbat newspaper. So far the day has been uneventful (other than the WhatsApp reports of almost constant missiles in the north). It's easy to forget that we're in the beginning/middle/end (depending on who you ask) of our war. Basically, a regular Friday afternoon. And then suddenly a preliminary alert. I was awake, even with my telephone in my hand, so I immediately shut it off. Tzippi's woke her. I turned on the television to get more information, and almost immediately the information was that this was a missile north of us that was successfully intercepted. Tzippi returned to her nap, and I'm still with the television news, but the paper is more interesting, so I'll turn it off now, hoping I won't have to open them again in the near future.
I guess even a short report such as this one is turning out to be still should include the fact that though it's been quiet by us the north has had yet another distressing day and evening. At 18:30 we saw reports of missiles to the north, though none by us. And these reports continued into the evening. One WhatsApp group I'm in that has people in the north was quite active with friends reporting that they almost didn't get to their safe rooms, or lay low on the road, and even damage to somewhere where someone had been moments earlier. And we only heard or read about it.
I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit that I forgot to note something from our visit to Nir-Oz. Throughout the evening we heard occasional shelling. Though perhaps it's not a war, it's clear that Gaza isn't quiet, and what we heard was shelling from Israel on Gaza. That war is supposed to be over, but it clearly isn't. The Gazans don't have a life. That's more and more the situation in Lebanon, and between them we don't either. And for some reason we think that because we don't they shouldn't, and there's no end in sight.
Shabbat Shalom.
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