Boxes

Yesterday was the day of materials. Today was the day of boxes. when I woke up in the afternoon and went downstairs, I have found the house full of boxes. different kinds of boxes: Egg cartons, coffee packages, empty packages of soap, milk, electrical equipment. The boys used their ‘silent time’ – the spot of time when I sleep and they do not have to sleep, but keep quiet and be away from electricity, fire, the trampoline and the swimming pool – to pick up all different kinds of boxes from the ki butts’s Recycling Corner – and bring it home. And if this was not enough, they also poured a whole glass of water on the floor and did not clean it. on the contrary, they walked on it, turning the water into mud.

Well, this is the last day of their vacation, and we spent it well. In the morning I took them to The Jordan’s nature reserve, where we had a wonderful time bathing in the river’s cold water, and having a picnic of fruits under a canopy of reed. But waking up to the mess was devastating.

This time I asked Michael and Daniel to clean in all by themselves, including wiping the floor. Luckily, we have a wonder mop, which made it easier for them to do so. When the house was clean they went to play with their friends outside, and I took the golden opportunity to quickly write.

And I did. I sat outside, at the yard, typing frantically on my typing machine, hearing the story of my protagonist’s sister. What an unexpected young woman. She betrayed her husband with two brothers in a threesome.

I could hear her whining to her priest and his warm, kind words in reply. I could feel the ghosts behind my back, telling me her story.

And then Michael came back home with his two girlfriends, and it all vanished.

The boys had fun in the Square of Winds. This is the community’s central spot, where all the kids play together. One of the neighbors gave them his girl’s kite to fly, while I was flying in a different manner.

We had supper, then a shower and a short story about The Twelve Dancing Princesses, and went to sleep, I meditated between their beds, until they fell to sleep, and went downstairs to meet a friend for a quick meeting and write it all.

Tomorrow is September 1st, the first day in the kindergarten. It is also my teaching day. so I will take the boys to the kindergarten and hurry to Kinneret College, to meet my students after two weeks of vacation.

I had barely half an hour to write today, but I did. If you will back up my crowdfunding campaign, I will gain some more time for writing. Thanks.

https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/a-single-gay-father-s-writing-retreat-lgbt#/

The Maidservant

I woke up happy this morning, to meet with my boys after a whole day of teaching in Tel Aviv. Yesterday I went out at 06.30 a.m and got back at midnight. During the day, Michael and Daniel spent the day with their grandfather. they went to Misgav’s swimming pool, played with water sliders and had a lot of fun. “In the evening they were unruly'” my father told me. But I saw none of it when I came back home last night.

Today, we have already agreed to go back to the same swimming pool. I even promised Daniel that I will buy him a new pair of diving goggles. but when I went upstairs to their room I saw the disaster: They were not simply unruly yesterday night. They were horrible. They broke into crumbs a whole package of colored chokes, on the wooden floor, they rounded plasticine and threw and stuck it to the ceiling, and they also smeared a cup of chocolate treat on the toilet bowl, so that it will look like shit.

I summoned them, shouting, to their room. “Come here and clean all the mess you have done! you can forget about going to the swimming pool and get presents! you will get no prize for such behavior!”

well, they could not clean the choke from the floor, not the chocolate treat from the toilet bowl. I had to do it, before having my morning coffee. I could not start the day in such a mess.

We stayed home. after cleaning, I told them that I must read my student’s written assignments and that I need a quiet hour for that. the agreed. they gave me more than an hour. the house was really peaceful. But when I went out of my room Michael came to me, handing me a cake of mud, “Dan, would you like to taste a cake?” he smiled.

I look over his shoulder. the entrance of our house was smeared with mud, sand. water and clay. they found parts of an old dishwasher, brought it home, and constructed a factory of clay cakes.

I cried my heart out and then clean the entrance again. “You know I have a workshop here tonight! do not bring any more dirt here!” I cried.

They said yes, and asked for a strawberry treat. I agreed. A few minutes later Michael came to me crying. “Daniel poured half of my treat on the floor!”

I rushed into the kitchen. The floor that I have just finished cleaning for the second time today was full of the strawberry treat.

I hold Daniel’s hand fiercely, put a piece of cleaning cloth in his hand and forced him to the floor, cleaning it with him.

He cried that he will go into my room and mess it up. I threw him outside and told him that he should not even dare to step into the house while I clean it again.

I know, this is the last day before the vacation ends. It is normal for kids to totally go astray and lose their borders. But this was really too much for me.

But as the day ended, I lifted each of them in my arms, embraced them and then cooked their supper and read them “The Sleeping Beauty” until they both fell asleep.

A few minutes later I changed my roles. from a father-mother-maidservant I became the creative writing teacher, guiding my student into the realms of the shadow, the same realms where my kids roam today, while I was busy in educating them to suppress their unaccepted behavior to the same swamp.

When they will get older, I will have to teach them how to get in touch with the same unwanted behavior which I did my best to make them suppress today. I will teach them that in order to get in touch with their fortunes, their creativity, they will have to put aside their ego, their persona, and will show them how to do so.

That is exactly what I did while my students wrote tonight. I could not write a single work today, due to my parental day job. So during my writing class, I took out two books, one on gardening and one on Hasidism, choose 10 words from each and wrote a poem using those words together. I did this to remind me to put aside my persona, including the parental anger mask, and get in touch with my inner child, and play.

If you are willing to help me cherish my writing time’ so that I will be able to write my new novels. please go into my crowd funding campaign and back it up, please. you can find it here:

https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/a-single-gay-father-s-writing-retreat-lgbt#/

I have less than a month left and got only 100 $ out of 72,000 $ I need, to get a writing retreat of one year, to use the hours in which I teach and edit books of other writers – to write my own novels. Thanks.

Liiving on the Edge

Daniel

Michael

My God, this is only the eighth day of Michael and Daniel’s summer vacation, and I am getting mad. There are only four days to go until September 1st, the first day of the kindergarten, but each day is like hell.

Today I decided to take them out so that they will not spend their time fighting each other. We went to EIn Hardalit, a nice fountain of Kziv perennial stream. It is located a half an hour drive from our new home in the Gellile.

We have found a nice shallow pool, shadowed by trees. The water was freezing, refreshing in such a hot summer day. But the place was crowded with families, so after one hour or so we went to visit Galia at the library of the city of Shlomi, where I teach. Galia, who is the manager of the library and a writer herself, wanted to meet my kids for so long, and Shlomi is so close to Ein Hardalit, that we paid her a visit.

The kids enjoyed Galia’s public library, got few books for free, and slept all the way back home. It was so hot today, that I almost fell asleep while driving.

They kept sleeping for few hours. That is the reason why they could not go to sleep at night. I read them the first book of Superman (sorry, but that is what they have chosen at the library) and thought they go to sleep. But after few hours, while I set at the yard and wrote, I heard noises upstairs,

When I opened their room I have found two giggling boys, playing with their cats on their beds. The beds were full of seats, pillows, toys and an exhibition of books and drawings. there was barely a place to sit there, not to mention to sleep.

“What is all this?” I have asked, “what have you done?”

“This is our secret shelter,” Daniel explained, “and it has a public library in it, with ornaments”

“But there is no place for you to sleep'” I said, “and I have already told you that the cats are not allowed to sleep in your beds. Go down off your beds and fix it all,” I said.

I had to do it with them.

I kissed them, sit with them and told them that I had a difficult day with them. “we had beautiful moments, as when I sat with Michael near the stream and we talked, or when I helped Daniel to sail his raft. But you misbehaved many more times today, and this made me angry,” I have said. “I do not want to be tough on you. I do not want this stress. Let’s try to behave better tomorrow. And if you want we can go to Misgav’s swimming pool where you haven’t been yet.”

I kissed them again and went down to work. But I have just gone upstairs to see if they are ok, and have found them sleeping half sitting in a new shelter they set, minutes after I have previously left their room.

We will have to re-arrange their room tomorrow as well.

It seems endless. cleaning the house, arranging their room, taking them out, watching their steps so that they will not harm each other and nurturing them emotionally. I do, but no energy nor time is left for my writing. So, if you would like to help me with that, please go into my crowd funding campaign and consider backing it up for me. Thanks.

https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/a-single-gay-father-s-writing-retreat-lgbt#/

Forget thyself and be rewarded

During the last few hours, a wonderful thing happened. I got so immersed in work that I forgot myself. I have just finished reading the stories of my students and filing all the new books which came in for editing. Doing that, I completely forgot that I have my daily post to write.
It’s Saturday, and the day was so full I can not remember what had happened. I woke up drowsy, not from alcohol but from the pill I took last night, after I scratched my self to death, due to a severe allergy attack. It is probably the cats or the season. It is still warm, but Autumn is already here. In the evening the winds blow across the mountain and it’s getting cold.
I was drowsy also because I wrote until very late last night, 02.00 a.m., baked a cake for Shabat, grilled 10 hamburgers on the plancha and put it in the freeze.

This morning, after writing my morning pages, and having breakfast with the boys, they invited their friends, our neighbors, two sisters, to play with. They played upstairs, while I vacuumed their room. When I finished I asked their mother and asked her to take care of all four of them while I will spend some time in the local gym.
I went to the gym, put classical music on my smartphone, and had an hour training. This was great. When I came back home I called the kids back, and they all went into our swimming pool. This was the time that I saw fit for writing. I took out my old typing machine and wrote my 1000 words while watching them in the water.
When they ran outside again, I started cooking. I follow the instructions of my neighbor naturopath, so I cooked legumes – chard pancakes with Gram flour, green lentils with vegetables, and potatoes cubes for Samosa.

It was just then that I saw my brother’s post on Facebook, a picture in which he stands in front of the military base where he served many years ago. I called him immediately and invited them to a meal.
My brother and sister in law are into Paleo. And because the cake I baked last night wasn’t, I decided to surprise them with Paleo brownies. so I baked again.
We had a wonderful time together, and when they left I fell on my bed for an hour. The boys stayed downstairs, watching television.
This was good because after another out-door hour with friends they ate and went to sleep early, not before listening to me, reading them the story of Thumbelina.
This was a hectic day indeed. but full of happiness.

I have six books to edit in the nearest future. I already signed for two novels and a poetry book. I also agreed to teach two writing courses in Tel Aviv and another 3 courses in the Gellile. This is total craziness because I also have to continue writing my next novel and develop my last novel into scripts.
Being a single gay father of twins is no fun when you are also a prolific writer and a highly reputed editor and teacher. You can help me out of this by backing up my crowdfunding campaign at https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/a-single-gay-father-s-writing-retreat-lgbt#/.
Thanks,
Ilan.

Traveling The Amazon in 3D reality

Eight years ago I’ve been to The Amazon. I went to Iquitos, to meet the Jewish descendants of Jewish men and Indian women, the Jews of the Amazon. I have found them, prayed with them, and with them – I have met with Solomon Feldman, a Jewish Peruvian historian, who promises to his dying father to act according to his will – burn his body, staff his ashes into an old beer bottle, in which he kept the ashed of his ruined childhood house in Ukraine, and dust from the Jewish graveyard of his home village – Novoselitsa (the village where my father was born) – and travel around the world, find a grave of a family member, and spread it on the grave.

What Solomon did not expect is that when he will do this, and he does, he will ignite a chain reaction, which will start resurrection, and that he, a Jewish gay scholar, will be declared as The Messiah.

This is the plot of my former book, ‘When the Dead Came Back.” It was published in Hebrew, but is not translated into English yet.

The air in Iquitos is dense, due to the constant humidity of the Amazon area and the smoke that comes from the jungle. The locals cut the sacred trees and sell them as building material. Once they destroy a whole lot of a forest they lit it, and the smoke goes up in the air and gets into the city.

The landscape on the way from Iquitos to the jungle is devastating. I saw hundreds of acres of ashes, where trees grew before. This influenced me a lot and became a central theme of my novel – the magic of nature, the menace of nature over men, and the way the true messiah is connected to the universe.

While visiting Iquitos I went to a 48 retreat in a shaman’s place in the jungle. I spent one night there, listening to the night voices of the jungle. it was so strong an experience that I have recorded some of it on my smartphone. It is a medley of animal and insects voices, combined with the sound of the wind at the huge trees. During that night there was lightning, and warm rain poured from the sky.

In the Amazon, I saw the biggest trees leaves I ever saw. I was so impressed that I took one leave back with me. But the leave was smarter than me. I could see in folding around itself, withering in front of my eyes.

I recollected all this today, while watching a 3D movie, The Amazon, in a small 3D room at the Druze village of Yarka, in the north of Israel. The biggest facility for children in Israel is there. It is called My Baby: a four floors huge building, two floors of all kinds of toys and clothes and shoes, one floor of a huge playground, and a floor for restaurants.

The place is magnificent. My kids love it, and we go there often. Last time we have been there they went into the small 3D cinema room by themselves. I waited outside. Today they asked me to join them. We went in, set on those moving chairs, put on 3D glasses, and began moving and shaking in our chairs, as the movie showed us as if we are inside a train above the jungle, driving down and up, up and down, into its mysteries.

I got too dizzy and almost fainted. When I could not bare it no more I closed my eyes. The boys enjoyed it a lot.

When we went out of the room I said to myself, that I must take them to the Amazon, to Iquitos, and to the jungle. So that their experience of it will not be a 3D freaky 5 minutes film, but a real, full experience.

We went upstairs to the dining floor. I ordered them a hamburger. When they had their meal I wrote about my feelings there, being knocked by bright lights and the constant noise of many children in play. As always, I gave it to my protagonist. He feels that he must detach himself from his dreadful life circumstances. He tries to block his senses, retreat into his spine, keep his mind clear. But in vein.

This is what I have felt. So as soon as possible I took my boys and ran away back home. And after they went to sleep, dizzy of hunger and sensual devastation, I set and wrote 2500 words, a double portion, for today and for yesterday, to get even with the fact I couldn’t write a word yesterday, due to my kid’s vacation.

Please back me up in my crowdfunding campaign, at https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/a-single-gay-father-s-writing-retreat-lgbt#/

Thanks,

Ilan.

When Two Writers Meet

When two writers meet they merely talk. They talk about their writing and about being a writer, and they talk about issues which are their concern, like copyrights, submission of book and plays to the publishing industry and to the theatre; They compare their rejection experience and share their thoughts about the Ministry of Culture and the main cultural institutions and help each other with ideas how to increase income.

This is what happened today. I met Michal Akerman, a very dear friend and colleague, and a gifted playwright. We studied together at The School of Dramatic Writing back in the 2000’s. She wrote few plays and produced them by herself, and is deeply engaged in writing, staging and marketing her work. We had a lot to discuss.

The best part of it was the meeting of her 13 years old son, Ariel, with my boys, Michael and Daniel, having a meal together, showing them around our place and talking about writing and life.

Michael and Daniel were tense before Michael and Ariel arrived. They combed their hair and put on perfume in honor of our guests. This was astonishing. they are only 5 years old, but they are already dandy.

We also had an interesting conversation this morning, before the quest came. I told them that I do not want to have another terrible day with them, as it was yesterday. “I do not want to scream at you, and get nervous,” I have said, “Do you have any idea what should I do to calm you down when you get mad?”

“Yes'” said Daniel. “when I get upset please lift me in your hand, or on your shoulders.”

“And you, Michael? Do you have any idea how can I calm you down when you get mad?”

“Do as my brother has said. hug me,” he replied.

Two hours later, just before the guest came by, they both lost their patience and started to fight with each other. I gave then one of my grim looks but in vein. Then I recollected what they have asked for. So I kneeled and hugged each boy for five minutes.

The change in their behavior was imminent. They both calmed down, and until late after noon, when they have started aim to shout and run after each other, the day was fine.

I could not write a single word today. In the evening, after the boys went to sleep, I had a meeting with a writer who wants me to edit her book, which deals with her astonishing life story, and when she left my guy came by. We did not meet for two weeks and we had a great time together. This is also important.

During this day I also got e-mails with new chapters from two other writers I already committed to editing their books. A lot of work is awaiting me. It seems that in the next six months or so I will have to live my life in slices of time. one slice for writing my next novel, other slices of time for each of the writers I work with and for my students, not to mention my first and foremost bosses, my kids.

This is the reason I went into a crowdfunding campaign in the first place. I strive for writing time, while my time is consumed by parenting and teaching and editing. So if you would like to buy me some writing time, please go into my campaign and back it.

You can find it here: https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/a-single-gay-father-s-writing-retreat-lgbt#/

Thanks.

Sharing Life with my Characters

One of the first advice I give my creative writing students is to write every day and begin with what you have in hand. Sit and write what you feel, how is your day, what you see or hear around you. And give it to a character. If you are already engaged in writing a book, find to which of your characters you can give your feelings. If not, invent one, or send it to the protagonist of your next novel.
This is exactly what happened to me a few weeks ago. I had a terrible day. I felt despair, I regret something I did. I do not remember what it was. I knew I just must write it so that it will go away, but my current protagonist does not feel regret. In the contrary, he is content with his life choices.
To whom will I transfer such feelings of repentance? Oh, there is the protagonist of my future novel! – I gave it all to her and filled it under the next writing project. And then I smiled because I won again.
If you write daily, writing with what you have and sharing it with your characters becomes a habit. This what happened to me today. It was my sixth day of vacation with my kids, and it was a tough one. We woke up at 05.30 am. I had no specific plan for today, but to rest at home after two hectic days in Tel Aviv. The boys sensed it immediately and started to fight and hit each other.
I have tried to persuade them to cook and bake together, or to go into our swimming pool. They refused. Instead, they had a water-war, and then they played nicely with their new Dragon kit.
Michael fell to sleep at 12.00. Daniel saw me cleaning the house and wanted to help me. He did. He washed some of the floors, organized the seats for my evening writing class, and begun cleaning the doors and windows downstairs.
Michael woke up, we had a meal and went to sleep. But they did not really sleep and woke me up after 50 minutes.
I took them to the nearest city of Karmiel, to buy them new earphones for their MP3, had my haircut and then drove with them to The Family Park, where they chased each other, hit and spit on each other and had a lot of dreadful fun.
I got almost mad. I did all I could do to stop them but in vain. In the end, when they went to sleep, I had barely 30 minutes to snatch something to eat before my students will come here, and I had no energy left.
I laid on the floor and did my favorite meditation. Silva’s style. Counting twice from 100 to 1. After two rounds I am always in Alfa state. But today both cats came to me, interested in what I do. The smelled me, touched me, tried to lay down side by side with me.
And then Michael and Daniel went downstairs, asking me to fix the radio-tape I gave them because they can not hear the music with their new earphones.
“Don’t talk to me please,” I have murmured. “go to your beds.”
They did.
And after few seconds I saw something new. I saw my persona collapsing. I saw myself as a shrunk gray body person, crumbling. And out of its ruins my true self, a huge angle of light emerged.
It was fantastic. A beautiful essence of light came out under my grim faced father persona, and a deep voice inside me said: “You have got all the energy and light you need to be calm, Ilan.”
I wrote it all, as I have just done, and I have decided while writing it, that I will give this rare moment of self-recognition to my protagonist. While lying in his cell, he sees how an immanent self is being born out of his tortured body. This essence reaches the sky and is connected to the universe and to God. My protagonist sees the light.
So this was my writing today, beginning with being exhausted after a full vacation day with my sons, and ending with the moment of revelation my protagonist experience in his cell, in the 16th century. Now I definitely see it as a wonderful day.
If you would like to read more about my writing process and support my writing time, please back it in https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/a-single-gay-father-s-writing-retreat-lgbt#/
Thanks,
Ilan.

Note Cards: The Saviors of a Writing Mother

The last two days were full. I teach creative writing once a week in Tel Aviv. Usually, my dad comes here to take care of the boys while I go down to Tel Aviv. But since the boys are on their yearly vacation, I have decided to take them with me to the big city, to have two days of city delight with their grandpa.
Yesterday we went to the swimming pool. This morning my dad took them to the Dinosaur’s exhibition in the old port of Tel Aviv. I had my first writing lesson and after that, I drove to my dad’s place. We had a meal together and a nap. In 16.00 am Michael and Daniel went with their grandpa to Cinema City, to watch a movie, and I went to my second lesson.
When we met, my father told me that maybe it’s too soon for the boys to watch a full movie. He said that they had no patience and wanted to go out of the cinema hall before the movie ended.
“It’s strange,” I responded. “we go to the movies and they watch each movie to its end.”
I revealed the reason to their impatience on our way back home. I have asked them which movie did they watch. “Imoogy,” they answered.
“But you saw this film only a few days ago! Didn’t you tell grandpa that you have already seen this movie?”
They didn’t. my father has chosen the movie without asking them what is their choice. No wonder they were anxious to get back home.

Before leaving home to Tel Aviv I took with me my index and notes card box. During my research, while I read books and essays concerning the subject matter of my next book, I always mark important passages and scribble ideas in the page margins. When I finish reading, I xerox the marked pages, cut it and clip it on index cards. I give each card a title, to remind me why I kept this note so that when I will get back to the cards I will be able to find my way easily. Then I organize the cards according to a logical order of my novel’s plot.
Today, while my students in both classes wrote their class assignments, I took out two cards and wrote as well. I wrote fast, anything that came under my pen. This way, I have I have doubled my daily word count, compensating with the fact that I didn’t write yesterday.
Index cards and note cards are a worth while investment of time and effort. Always do research, and take notes. You never know when you will need them. Usually, you do need them when you have no idea what to begin your daily writing with, or when you are a writing father-mother with two boys on a vacation with no time to write at all.
You write because are obliged to your writing. You write in 20 minutes snatches of time, when and where ever you can. You write because the only way it gets through your first draft is writing daily. That is what writers do. They do not wait for the muse to appear. They show up at their desks as clerלs. I am a faithful clerk of my writing. This is why I produce so much writing per year.

If you are interested in investing in my next new novels, I will appreciate if you go into my crowdfunding campaign, at https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/a-single-gay-father-s-writing-retreat-lgbt#/ – and back it.

You can read more about me and my campaign here:

http://www.abnewswire.com/pressreleases/an-awardwinning-israeli-gay-author-is-seeking-community-support-via-indiegogo_137201.html

Thank you in advance,
Ilan.

Stumbling on Gravestones

Being alert to today’s lunar eclipse, I did my best to be cautious today. We woke up at 05.00 a.m., I wrote my morning pages, packed everything we need for a two days vacations at Grandpa’s place, did laundry and cleaned the house, so that we will come back to a neat house, and drove all the way down from the Galilee, in the north of Israel, to Ramat Hasharon, near Tel Aviv.

We first went to meet our past neighbors in Neve Tzedek, where I lived for 36 years. We met Ilana, the neighbor next door, who is like a mother to my sons, and few other neighbors, passed through the Carmel City Market, to hug Calanit, my friend from the flower shop, and went to Grandpa.

After having the meal I brought with me, we had a nap and went to Sharonit, the public swimming pool of Ramat Hasharon. We had a wonderful time there. Michael and Daniel both dived and swam very nicely. They even borrowed three plastic hoops from the swimming teacher who worked with a child nearby, threw it into the water and dived to find it. I watched them carefully. But I also watched the swimming teacher, a tall beautiful guy in this 20’s, his smooth belly so beautifully carved that I wish I will surf on it.

When we went out of the swimming pool I asked the lady in the office for his phone number. I might call him. He was so fond of my boys. He said that when they will grow up they will be models, and I told him that I raise them on my own, because I gave birth to them by a surrogate mother. I hope this gave him enough information as exposition for a love story. Let’s see what will happen soon.

We then went to the biggest playground of the city, that was built where there was a military industry unit before. The playground is vast and sophisticated. It has many rope ladders on which a child climbs to huge frightening slides. The boys had great fun while I was standing beneath them, watching their steps.

The old graveyard of Ramat Hasharon in front of this playground. It is a small cemetery, hidden within trees and greenery. I did not visit this place since the birth of my boys. This is the place where my grandmother Sheindle is buried, her sister Rachel and many neighbors of my childhood neighborhood. This neighborhood was built by a group of survivors, from Novoselytsia, the place of birth of my father, which became the place of disaster, grief, and loss.

I visited Novoselytsia ten years ago. It is a Ukrainian village located on the borders of Rumania and Austria. I went there during the writing of my former novel, “When the Dead Came Back,” wishing to see the childhood home of my father and the graves of my great-grandparents.

I have found none. And I was so devastated then, that I stood in the middle of the old Jewish cemetery of Novoselytsia, raised my hand to the sky, and said: “Dear grandfather Solomon and grandmother Sera, I could not find your graves, so I will read the Kadish Izkor for you and for all of the Jews who lay here.” And I did.

After that, I took a bottle of Ukrainian beer that I have found there. I filled it with the graveyard’s soil, and swear that this soil will always accompany me. This bottle stands on my desk in Kibbutz Tuval. It also became the tool with which my protagonist, Solomon Feldman, awakens the Dead in my former novel, without knowing that that’s what is going to happen.

So today, I told my sons that after we had fun in the playground, I would like to pay a visit to my grandma Sheindle, who lay in the nearest cemetery.

“I am afraid it might cause me nightmares,” said Michael.

“If that is what you feel, let’s skip it,” I answered.

“Why do you want to visit her?” he asked.

“Because I haven’t been here since I came to her to ask for her help before your birth,” I smiled at him. “You see, before flying to India, to your birth, I came here to ask her for help, so that I will give birth to beautiful healthy kids, and she helped me.”

“So let’ go and visit her,” said Michael.

We went inside. My grandmother is buried in the last row, under a huge eucalyptus tree. This is the place where I began my writing career. I was only six years old when she was deadly hit by a motorcycle. My parents have told me that she went to the skies. Only after my bar mitzvah, my 13 years old Jewish ceremony, I was allowed to participate in her yearly memorial.

When I first saw her grave, with her name on it, I was so shocked, that when we got back home I took a notebook and pencil out of my school bag, and wrote for the very first time of my life. It was a poem to grandma.

Since then I never stopped writing.

This is the reason why I wrote in my will, that I want to be buried in the empty slot side to side with my grandma. It is vacant, because my grandfather married another woman, and was buried near her.

This is why it was so important for me to visit my grandma’s grave today, and show her my boys, whom she has blessed for their birth and guards to those days.

I lit the Shabbat candles every Friday night. And I do what my deceased mother has done. I bless the candles and then close my eyes, visualize each and every member of our big family, and ask my mother and two grandma’s to bless us and guard us all.

     Michael and Daniel stood on the stone which covers the empty slot near grandma. I took out my cell phone, to memorize them standing there. While taking the photo I took one step back, to get a wider photo – and stumbled on the grave behind me.

I fell on my back among the graves. I could hardly get up. I got wounded. But I also got the photo and did what I had to do – show my boys where my grandma lays, and putting small stones of remembrance on her grave, her sister grave and on Shabtai and Sera Frieser graves. Those were our dear neighbors, a childless couple. They had a greengrocery in their home, and they always kept tons of peach kernels, with which I and my brother played against Judith, the neighbor’s daughter, who had a trick to win the game again and again.

I did not write a single word in my next novel today. But I feel that this post is pure prose. If you enjoy reading me, please go into my crowdfunding campaign at https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/a-single-gay-father-s-writing-retreat-lgbt#/ and back it.

Thanks.

Nibbling the Shadow

Yesterday, just before I took the boys from the kindergarten, to start their vacation, their teacher Yael told me: “If you want to get over the next 10 days you must have a day by day, hour by hour plan.” This was one golden advice.

I heard it before. Vered Ben Porat, an Israeli expert in twins, taught me that a long time ago. Plan ahead, she said, remember that kids are always troubled with shifts. Be ready for that. Actually, even Einat, my friend, who has two twin boys a year older that my sons, pointed to me only yesterday – have a plan, she said. Go over it with your kids few times a day. This will give them a sense of borders.

Today I printed a table with columns for each boy and for me too. I told them that according to my plan we will start the morning with working-out together at the gum, and breakfast, and asked them what would they want to do today out of few options. We have agreed on watching a film in the new cinema hall of Karmiel. We chose “Indology”.

We drove down the mountain to Karmiel, spent half an hour in a nearby playing ground and then watched the film.  It ended at 12 am. It was so hot outside that I took them back home, lit the barbeque and prepared our meal. We ate and went to a nice nap.

In the afternoon I invited the boys to join me in my visit to Shachar’s sheepfold. Shachar is a hi-tech expert who also raises sheep and makes great goat cheeses. I wanted to pick a whole basket of goat’s shit and spread it in my kitchen garden, so that my organic vegetables will grow faster.

We spent some time in the sheep shelter. The boys helped me pile goats shit mingled with straw into the basket and played with the goats. I grabbed the full basket to my car, drove home and spread it around.

When we have finished, Daniel wanted to go and play with the sister girls next door. Michael said he wants to stay with me and play together. He needs quality time with me for so long.

He asked me to watch him playing basketball, which he did fantastically. I cheered for him, and when he got tired he asked me to go for a walk with him, to The Winds Square, which is located near the edge of the mountain. We sat there and talked. We saw a fire running down the valley.  Michael asked me to call the fire station. I told him someone probably did, because people live down there, and already took care of that.

“I am scared'” said Michael’ “I am afraid that someone who does not have a fireman’s suit will try to stop the fire, and will get burnt.”

“No one will do so,” I told him. “This is a job for the fire brigade only. But do you know how to end a fire?” he nodded/ “you use send or a very wet blanket.”

“Dan, let’s take wood and build a fire and spears!” Michael said.

“I’d love to make a fire with you and Daniel. But it’s too hot for that. Let’s prepare spears, instead.” We should start by collecting sharp stones.”

We did, and then Michael had another idea. “I never succeed in building fire in a shape of a hat. SO maybe we can put on a tent in that shape.”

“This is a great idea, Michael!” I said. “Let’s see if I can find an explanation on the internet for that.”

Happily enough, I spotted a nice short video, filmed by the Israeli Scouts, with a nice demonstration of how to set up a tent.

We went back home, used an old blanket and few sticks, rope and little stones, and built up a very nice tent. Michael went to call his brother, to surprise him with the camp we have prepared, while I warmed dinner and served it to them inside their new tent.

I had me meal in the yard, watching them eat. I got so proud at myself. You see, my technical abilities, together with my manhood manners, were hitherto deeply hidden within the realms of my shadow. When I was a kid, my deceased mother used to say, whenever she saw me holding a tool, “Come on Ilan, you have left hands. Go and read a book instead.” She meant only god, and I became a writer – and a disabled man. Whenever I had a boyfriend I did my best to endorse him with any technical ability he had or did not have at all. And whenever I need something to be repaired at home, I call the local handyman. This is the first time in 50 years that I build a tent by my own hands. And if this is not nibbling my shadow, tell me what it is.

This was the first vacation day of my boys. I even managed to write 700 words right after I woke up in the afternoon. If you are willing to help me gain some more writing time, please go into my crowdfunding campaign and back it. Thanks a lot.