I had totally forgotten about moose hunting

The bottom line is that there is no moose hunting in Israel because there are no moose here. Therefore, moose hunting hasn't crossed my mind for at least the last eight years. But a few days ago I got a big reminder that there are people who hunt moose during moose season every year because my friend Holly in Toronto is one of them.

The first time Holly told me she was going moose hunting, I honestly thought that she was pulling my leg. She's about five feet tall and maybe 95 pounds on a fat day. She likes high heels and make-up; I just didn't take her for a nature girl. Boy was I wrong.

This year, she and her husband, and their other moose-hunting cohorts shot a big one. Well, it looked pretty big in the photos she emailed to me the other day. I just luvvvvv photos of dead animals!

At first I almost fell off my chair when I started opening the photos -- and to boot, Holly and/or her husband are smiling as they pose in each photo next to the previously living moose. When I wrote to Holly about her affinity for moose hunting, she wrote back a very comprehensive answer. It is obvious that I am not the first person to ask her why the hell she likes to moose hunt?

Before I continue, let me say that I am not against dead moose (although I like to catch of glimpse of living ones much better) or eating meat. This isn't a vegetarian thing at all. I just can't imagine tromping around in the forest in a molted green jacket or a red plaid one for that matter, with a gun, looking for things to kill.

However, in Holly's defense, I want to reprint her comments to me. They are worth repeating. Please note that I have taken the liberty of editing her for brevity (and only brevity).

"Sometimes I don't think people realize that hunters are advocates for all wildlife and although it's considered a sport, hunters would tend to speak of it as a way of life, a mindset, a commitment to the future of our natural wilderness. From the beginning of time, people have hunted to live - to feed and clothe their families... and today's hunters are no different. There is no more respect for an animal than from that of a hunter in awe of it's gifts. And for the record, my husband and I always give thanks over the animal before we prepare it for transport from the woods.

"... my moose is lean from walking all day every day for miles and miles while a regular cow stands around the barnyard getting fat all day every day. Like I tell those who feel the need to criticize us hunters, at least my moose has a fair chance of getting away whereas the average cow gets corralled into a killing pen and never has a chance. And our purpose is not only to use the meat, but the hide goes to the nearest Native Indian Tribe and we're actually helping to manage the moose population by reporting what we harvest to the Ministry of Natural Resources whether it be moose, deer, turkey, goose, duck, you name it... our license fees also go to research for the same purpose.

"And by the way, any game meat anywhere is absolutely better for you and I than anything that is farmed or processed. Government graded, sealed or not, hunters harvest the safest and most natural meat there is for consumption, hands down. So don't feel sorry for my moose... feel sorry for the poor cow stuck in a dirty stinky barn who gets slaughtered after maybe a years lifespan. My moose was 4 1/2 years old and the biggest one we harvested a few years back was 7 or 8. And they're free! To roam anywhere they want in the wide open wilderness, play, swim, have sex with different partners, sleep where they want. That stinky fat and dirty cow in the barnyard really doesn't have much of a life at all if you ask me... So there you go, that's my speech for the day... Hope I haven't offended you in any way... "

So there. I think Holly makes a compelling case. I still don't expect to pick up a gun in the near future and head off in search of animals to kill, but I have to applaud Holly for approaching her activity with such positive convictions.

It also goes to show that you can't judge a book by its cover and some people have a lot more to them once you get to know them. I will never join Holly in the woods, but I am glad I have a friend with a different view on the world than mine.

I'll tell you why I don't like Tuesdays

There is never enough time. Everyone I know is constantly rushing around with more things to do than there is time to do them. For many years I just assumed that that was part of my big city, commuting, working lifestyle. However, that was an incorrect assumption. Now I live in a very small city and I work from home or close to home and I still don't have enough time to get things done.

And that is why I am particularly peeved that for some inexplicable reason stores in Israel close on Tuesday afternoons. What is it about Tuesdays?

Stores close early on Fridays -- particularly in the winter, when the Jewish Sabbath starts at about 4:30 p.m. because that is when the sun sets. And as far as I can tell (not that I spend so much time traveling all around Israel on Friday afternoons that I could call myself an authority on the subject), even non-observant Jews are in the cultural habit of short Fridays. It is Israel's answer to a two-day weekend. It's not a great answer, but it is still better than a kick in the head. And I can understand it. I grew up with quiet, Christian Sundays although I don't think they exist anymore either.

And then there is Saturday, which in Israel -- a Jewish country so far (I don't like to be naively optimistic) -- the influence of the rabbis cannot be ignored. Even if you don't observe the Sabbath, the country officially does. That doesn't mean that things aren't open, but overall, it is a relatively quiet day. Or, once again, I think it is. I'm not exactly out wherever the action might be on Saturdays so I can't say with absolute confidence. I hear that the beaches are hopping and I know that some malls are open, but I have never participated so it's only hearsay.

Next, there is the 2:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m. siesta. I know that it began in the days before air conditioning and when the country was still run by socialists who couldn't have cared less about the stock markets in New York or Hong Kong. Things have changed but the 2 to 4 rule is written in stone. Even today, when Israel is part of the global economy, just try to make noise outside your home between those hours -- seriously, try it -- and you will find yourself face-to-face with some old-timer who is apoplectic that you are outside making noise while he or she naps.

Which brings me back to this need to close up on Tuesday afternoons. How much bloody time do people need to sleep in this country? And what about my shoes that desperately needed new heels on Tuesday? Yes, I could go back to the damn shoe repair shop on Wednesday but I want to understand why he couldn't just be open on Tuesday? It's the middle of the week for heavens sake. People in New York and London can surely get their shoes repaired on Tuesdays and if we are now part of the bigger world, then I should be able to do the same. I am not asking for shoe repair shops to stay open for mall hours, just a simple 3:00 p.m. would suit me fine.

I am sure there is some Israeli-logic answer out there that I have overlooked. Yes, I googled it just in case it was obvious and I was missing the point. I had lots of time to search the internet for answers on Tuesday afternoon because heaven knows I couldn't get any errands done. I would have checked with people on the main street but there weren't any to be found. Everyone was home having their official Tuesday afternoon nap.

Now this is worth watching

I received this link in an email this morning. It's so rare to see something about Israel that does NOT involve war, oppression, and the poor old PA, that I feel obliged to share it as quickly as possible. It's a CNBC news interview with Dan Senor, Adjunct Senior Fellow for Middle Eastern Studies at The Council of Foreign Relations (US) who co-wrote a book about Israel's innovative spirit -- and he isn't even Jewish. Take a few minutes and watch it. It's rare to see Israel shown in a positive light and I would hate for you to miss the opportunity.

The ma-bul for ants has come to an end

When it rains in Israel, it usually rains in biblical proportions. I guess that should be expected. It may not rain for long and it surely doesn't rain enough, but when it rains, the skies just open up and dump every last drop they can find. It's like someone filling a really large balloon to supersaturation ... and then popping it.

This total dump might not be such a big deal (well, yes it would) if there were proper sewers in Israel ... which there aren't. Therefore, most of the rain just runs down the streets with wild abandon, gathering up every loose piece of garbage and sediment it can grab.

It's very dramatic and it's fun to be out in the rain, if you have a good pair of rain boots -- which I do. As a total aside, mine are black irridescent, with a furry rim.

One day, a few years ago, Yael and I were walking in the heavy rain in our rain boots, when Yael said: "The ants must have done something very bad because God is sending them a mabul (a flood of Noahide, biblical proportion). At the time that struck me as very funny but also as remarkably accurate. No ant could have survived that wet, wet day although strangely enough I have seen several million since then, so obviously some did live to crawl another day.

I was thinking about the ma-bul for ants yesterday as, once again, the skies opened up and just poured down rain (not enough to rescue Israel from its drought crisis, but more than enough for me). However, as I stood out there on the corner watching the flooding, all I could think was that this was not a ma-bul for ants, but rather, a ma-bul for cats (with the ants as innocent victims, suffering for whatever the cats must have done).

Technically you are not allowed to say anything bad about rain in Israel. We spend at least half of the year praying for it and most people see it as a miracle when it finally arrives. Some years it doesn't arrive and I know I will go straight to hell for saying this, but last year was almost rain free and I had no personal complaints. Of course, my garden had many complaints. It now resembles a deserted street in an ghost town in the Old West. Tumbleweeds and all. My fruit trees were less than amused as well. My mango and pomela harvest was pathetic this year.

And I have already written about the water abusers in my neighbourhood. This is a particularly sensitive point so I won't go into that again. Suffice it to say that for now, whether I like it or not, what we really need is a ma-bul for cows.

A few important lessons I have learned from our new dog

We have now had Pepper (previously known as Rocky) for a little more than a month. During that month or so, I have to admit that I have grown more attached to her than I had previously expected. I have even arrived at the point that I look forward to our 6:30 a.m. walks. We now know lots of new people and dogs in the neighbourhood because everyone is out walking their dogs when I am out with Pepper early in the morning. And because Pepper is a relative baby, she just loves to stop and socialize with every dog that crosses our path.

As a result of her social, sunny attitude, I have learned a few life lessons that are equally applicable to my human life as they are to any dog's life.

Dog rule #1: If you want to get to know someone just walk up to them and sniff their bum. Yes, it is a bit direct, but dogs do it and they can tell after one quick sniff if they like you or they don't. I am not completely clear on what it is that they are looking for in this sniff-inquiry, but whatever it is, the results are black and white. If they like the smell of your butt, you are a friend for life. If not, has-ta-la-vista stinky bum.

Dog rule #2 (specifically for female dogs, who are probably called bitches for very good reasons): there is no need to go around pissing all over the place and marking territory for a good kilometer radius. Male dogs (and probably men as well) feel that they need to leave their mark everywhere they go, while female dogs (and women) have way more confidence in knowing that their simple presence is enough.

Dog rule #3: Two meals a day, six walks, several naps and a few minutes of roughhousing with a toy and a friend is pretty much as full a day as anyone should have. However, you may also have to tolerate a little dress-up with crazed nine- and 10-year-old girls now and then. It's a small price to pay for an otherwise stress-free life.

Dog rule #4: Once bitten, twice shy. Now I understand that phrase on a whole new level. It's very simple. If someone or something bites you, do not go back for a second round. They had their chance and they chose to bite.

I am sure that as I get to know Pepper better there will be more life lessons, but considering she has only been around for less than six weeks, she has already taught me a few things that I never figured out on my own after 48 years!