Changing and rearranging.

Free as a butterfly? Nor really, but quite pleased. 

I've jump started my career only 3 weeks ago and it already feels like I lived in this lab all my life.  My brain cells are all devoted to the effort of understanding my new environment. I've tried to spare some to writing and photographing but at this point in time it is an enormous effort. I have a big project that is quite complicated. I do not want to leave this blog which is very important to me, in a way it has been a journal of my life. So I need to figure out the shape it will take in the future. I'm processing all the changes and they will manifest in here eventually. I urge you to bear with me and be patient with formatting and design shifts. I will keep writing and sharing my views on science (there will be a lot of science now….), photography, travel and food with and without gluten. I'm concluding this post with a few photos because I might shift the blog's theme from writing to photographing. 

Rainbows are always a sign of hope and optimism.

I'm gonna fly like this beautiful ibis from the Hachula area.

The last day of 2011

Evolution of a photographer: January 2011, Nitzana, Israel, one the first occasions I'm taking the Nikon D90 to my hands. 

It's the last day of 2011. For me it was a very good year. It was a year of revelations and adventures. I learned a lot about myself this year. I was never the type for soul searching. The "new age" spirituality, self-search were not my "thing". But this past year I've questioned many things I assumed I knew about who I am.  I've discovered my ability to write something other people will read. For years all I've ever written was either buried in deep drawers or burnt to ashes. Today I save even the silliest "notes to self" I write, I might use it in the future. I'm not willing to succumb to that horrible internal critique that haunted me for years. 

March 2011-Winter sky on the Judean Hills, Israel

June 2011-Burekas and egg in Yahud, Israel

This was the year I re-discovered my creativity. For years I used to draw and paint, so I've found a new way to use light, expressing myself through photography. At the beginning of this year my photos were hardly worth noticing. Slowly but surely I figured out what the technical terms mean or how to open the menu of my sophisticated yet frightening camera. Now, at the end of this year, I feel I've advanced light years in my photography. Now I know how much I still have to learn but I love it. Photography will never be boring.

July 2011- The Safari Zoo, Ramat-Gan, Israel 

   

I had a very good year due to a number of reasons. The time I've spent with my kids was priceless. I'm pleased I had the opportunity to be a full time Mom, even if it's not for long. I'm glad we could leave our lives here for more than a month in order to travel to Canada. One of the best voyages I've ever took.

August 2011 - Gros Morne National Park, Newfoundland,Canada

August 2011, West-point lighthouse, Prince Edward's Island, Canada

Now this wonderful year that was filled with great places, good food, terrific photography and most of all my wonderful friends and family, is ending. Tomorrow my new year will begin with a new job therefore a new way of life. I'm going back to what I know best: lab work and research. I know it will be intense and demand my fullest attention. Before I start I want to share some of my last year's photos. I think you can see in them the evolution of my photography. 

September 2011 - An exercise in night photography, Tel-Aviv Beach, Israel

November 2011- Discovering the many ways you can process Raw formats.  Zichron-Yaakov, Israel

November 2011-A house designed by a friend. 

I hope I'd still have the time to share with you my adventures in this chaotic country.

I don't know what the future holds. I hope it will be another very good year to us all. I wish you only the best. I hope it will rain.

Happy New Year. 

December 2011-Nachlat Binyamin, Tel-Aviv, Israel

December 2011- The only photo in this post taken using my iPhone 4. Judean Hills, Israel

Run like the wind

When I was a teenager I hated sports. I sucked in it too. Every sport class we had I tried to do my absolute worst.  Most of all I hated running. It seemed like the ultimate torture.  Luckily I was a skinny teenager no weight issues at all (but of course I hated the way I looked, we women are mental in this sense). Even in the army when you have no choice but to run, I really hated performing this sort of duty for my country.  In University I started to like swimming. Swimming was nice especially in a hot place like Israel because you don't sweat when you swim. During those years I hated running I had no problem walking and hiking. That was fine, hiking was always a great pleasure for me and in my teens and early twenties I walked everywhere. 

The way I feel when I run

When I got pregnant with my first child I gained a lot of weight. Over 21kg! I was so enormous, people called me "a whale" to my face. But surprisingly enough all the weight was gone with no special effort some months after I gave birth. This is a serious advantage having babies when you're young.  During my second pregnancy gaining a lot of weight was hazardous because I developed symptom of diabetes.  I needed to do sports. I started walking again and it was no trivial matter walking in the horrible weather of tropical Singapore. But it worked. I didn't get too gigantic and more important didn't get diabetes.  Then I learned that doing sports does have a direct effect on your health. I was mildly surprised.

When my second child was 4 months old we came back home and here I was back in Israel with two kids and a post-natal over weight. I subscribed to the local gym. That was a onetime experience. I spent a fortune on all sorts of classes that I disliked. Just like high-school all over again. I spent so much money on activities like spinning. What is the sense in cycling with 30 other very sweaty people and not reaching anywhere? I felt ridiculous doing that. I don't get all the machinery involved in weight lifting. These rooms full of metallic equipment seem to me like some middle ages torture basement.  I had to find some sport that is cheap, useful and doesn't require special gear. Walking was the sensible option but it wasn't challenging anymore.  So I decided I'll start running. At first I almost fainted after only 200 meters. But I hated the fact that I'm letting myself of the hook so easily. I challenged my character and own lazy tendencies. So the running distance grew. 200 meters became a kilometer. One Km became 2 and 3 and suddenly I could run 5km! I run 2-3 times a week. I am in shape. I got thinner although not as skinny as I'd liked to be. I was amazed, sports works. And you even don't have to pay for it. Just lace up those trainers and run. Nothing is simpler. I jog for several years now with some breaks during pregnancy and breast feeding.  I've run the Nike Night Run for 10km each year for the past 4 years and although it wasn't easy it was fun. And I'm proud of myself for facing the challenge.

As an aspiring runner I was delighted to read Haruki Murakami's book "what I talk about when I talk about running". Murakami is one of my favorite authors, and I learned he is also an amateur runner, but in a much higher level than I am, the guy does 2 full Marathons a year. In this book which is a personal memoir he tries to give the reader a glimpse on to what motivates him to run and to write. He writes about the first Marathon he ran that was in Greece from Athens to Marathon (the original Marathon was the other way around), he writes about running an ultra Marathon of 100 (!!!)km but not from the professional aspect of how to train and what to eat but rather what were his thoughts and how he felt during those very long runs. Most of the time you don't really understand why he runs but I think that is because he himself doesn't have a specific reason. He states in the book that he begun to run for no special reason, one day suddenly he started running and he didn't stop. I don't think I am made from the stuff people like Murakami are made of, he's diligent, hard working and committed to whatever he chooses to do either running or writing. I'm so lazy that every time I accomplish a task I feel like I finished an ultra-marathon myself. The book is very charming Murakami is a very talented writer. Now when I run I keep in my mind one of the best sentences I read: "pain is inevitable, suffering is optional". Amen.

Murakami running to Marathon

"This means nothing to me, oh Vienna" or Pizza night!

I'm flying this morning to Vienna for a course in a specific method in molecular biology. The course is held in the University of Vienna and is 5 days long. Because it starts Monday morning, I'm arriving Sunday noon. So I'll be a week (!!!) away from home. I've never left the kids for such a long time. I'm really pleased that I was accepted to this workshop and that my boss agreed to fund the whole week, but I'm so apprehensive of leaving my kids for so long. Of course they are left with their dad, and grandparents, which will provide the best possible care.
Well, I'd like to confess: I am a control freak, and a perfectionist. Now if I was in a CFA (control freaks anonymous) meeting, all would have declared:" we love you Yael!" It's hard for me to let go and believe they'll manage without me, (although they will, and brilliantly). On top of that there is the guilt that always accompanies me because I'm a working mom. There's always this little voice of the guiltiness demon:" you don't spend enough time with the kids", "they'll grow up to be miserable sods", "and you don't deserve to have fun, ever" etc. I know that its complete rubbish, I work very hard in both my full time jobs but it's always there.

In order to reduce the guilt trip and feel more like a good mom and a domestic goddess I decided to bake the family a homemade pizza. In my personal explorations these past months I've been to a baking class with my best friend Sarah and we learned to bake pizza among other types of bread. I even got a pizza stone for Valentine from my dear husband.

So, Friday morning began with shopping for cheeses, flour and toppings for the pizza like mushrooms. I cooked the tomatoes' sauce myself! It took 1kg of fresh tomatoes with sautéed onion and garlic. After almost 2 hours of cooking I mashed the sauce and passed it through a sieve to get rid of all the seeds. It tastes great.

Then I moved to the dough. According to the recipe we got in the course, I used my lovely Kitchen Aid and eventually before I put it to leaven, I pinched a piece and stretch it in order to see the gluten network so necessary for good dough. We bought ready-made gluten-free pizza base for my celiac afflicted daughter.

After the first leavening I cut the dough in 8 pieces for pizzas and focaccias, and left it for a few more hours during which we roasted bell peppers in the oven, cut mushrooms and sliced mozzarella cheese.
When all was ready, we just assembled the pizzas, with the home made sauce and each one putting on top his favourite foodstuff.

It was a great family fun, and I'm leaving the gang with some good and tasteful memories. Now I'll finish packing and hope I'll have some great time in spite of the guilt demon. i'll try to keep a Viennese blog and add my lousy pictures of the tourist attraction in the city and maybe some photos of food.

I saying goodnight with that song by Ultravox, oh Vienna…

Science project

Sometimes I think I'm doing a good job. Most of the time I have a horrible sense of incompetence: not a good enough scientist, not a good mom, a lousy housewife, etc. BUT there are good days that I feel on top of the world, and wonder where the hell the truck with the medals is?
Yesterday was one of these days. Not only was I efficient at work but I got home before 4 o'clock and all the kids were home early. I managed to help my middle daughter with the homework, have fun with my son and his new fire engine and even get the girls to play the piano, without threats or shouts. I felt like Gandhi. Then my friend Shiri called. There was a science project from school and our daughters were teamed together for it. I met Shiri 2 months after my eldest daughter was born, when I was on verge of complete collapse and post-natal depression. Meeting her in the neighborhood supermarket with her own 3 months old baby was the start of a long friendship where I give and get a lot of help and support. Our daughters are best friends since the cradle. Shiri is a creative person, that’s what she does for a living she's an interior decorator and it renders her as responsible for all sorts of school projects where I am the loyal side kick. Yesterday she bought 3 meters of pipe for the school science project: "the digestive tract". Of course the girls were supposed to do the project, but as I say, Shiri is a creative person. I was called in as the science expert (it's my unofficial role even though Shiri's dad is senior doctor). So Shiri drew this figure on a huge cardboard and using nylon stockings we created the liver, stomach and Shiri's masterpiece, the colon! Using a hot glue gun without any of us getting serious burns, we glued it all. Two women and six kids, all of them under twelve and we managed to create this marvelous model of the human digestive system. Isn't that being superwomen or what?
Here is the photo of the masterpiece, anatomically accurate people! Including the pancreas! It will be presented in the girls' school from Wednesday.

We got home, had dinner, showers, bed time story for the little guy and when my husband arrived at around 10pm, the house was asleep.

Trouble sleeping

Well this post comes after a week of very troubled sleep, too much caffeine and no exercise. My energy levels have reached rock bottom and with them my mood. This depressed frame of mind is completely physiological, I’m sure. Sleep deprivation was shown in endless researches to be a cause for many ailments among them depression and even psychosis, weakened immune system, decrease in cognition and ability to perform the simplest tasks. Well I’m there. My youngest sons’ cold had left me and The Husband beyond exhausted. Not sleeping properly for a week takes me back to the days when my kids were newborns and I woke a few times at night to breastfeed them. I used to feel like my life is not completely real, as if I live in a hallucination. I have this sensation today after a whole week of waking 2 or 3 times to a crying baby and then finally wake up at 6:30 to go to work (see my post about mornings). The thing is the patient aside from the bothering night cough is having a marvelous time. The other day when I was on sick shift with him at home, he had some much energy we spent 2 hours in the playground. I kept the caffeine in my blood stream on steady levels.
So, I’m looking forward for the weekend and some rest. I bet I’ll be euphoric after a 7 hours sleep night or even after a long cozy siesta. Next post will have to be cheery and optimistic. I know that there are moms out there that have kids that do sleep, but for me sleeping kids are like unicorns – only in fairytales.

                                Isn't this a pretty drawing of a sleeping unicorn?

Morning has broken…

God, how I hate mornings.
As you may have noticed, I am not a morning person. Never was. My biological clock is not coordinated with the Western culture of working and studying in the hours just after the sun rises. I love sunrises though, but I think they get better if you observe their majesty and then go back to sleep. My best hours have always been between 12 to 2 am, the graveyard shift. Provided of course I can spend the day after sleeping till noon.
My current status as a Working Mom leaves me with a hectic schedule and exhausting mornings, (not to mention waking at least twice every night because of my lovely unsleeping son). My morning begins usually between 6:30 to 6:45. My husband (always an early bird) wakes the girls more or less at the same time. My son (like my husband) usually rises before the sun and so they have an hour or so of male bonding consisting of watching kids programs on the BBC. My middle daughter is very much like me. She is NOT a morning person and usually spends the time between she wakes up till she finishes breakfast in a horrible grumpy mood.
While the kids have their breakfast, I'm trying to jump start my brain with a strong cup of coffee my saint of a husband makes in our very Yuppie but very necessary espresso maker.

Then there is the saga of getting 3 kids dressed, combed, teeth brushed and school bags ready in a very short period of time. My oldest is not a problem, she's a responsible, stylish and quite a messy young lady that knows how to handle her time. My middle child is disastrous in the mornings. She gets absent minded and forgets that she needs to change her pajamas, wear her glasses – she'd rather play hide and seek with her younger brother. So most of the morning I chase the little one in order to change his diaper and clothes while yelling at the middle one: "get dressed", "leave the Barbies", "for the 10th time, go brush your teeth!" Not to mention the fact that dressing my son is like trying to get an octopus to wear pants. By the time the 3 of them are ready and out of the house, usually with my husband driving the lot of them, my nerves are already stretched. Then you get to clear their breakfast table- the floor always has a coat of chocolate milk to it. I'm leaving the house at around 8am after clearing the table, mopping the floor and putting the washer/drier to work. If my husband wasn’t a morning person, I would've collapsed ages ago. Probably would've settled for one child.
Driving to work is done in a when I look and feel like a zombie searching for a brain to eat. Any driver that has the bad luck to cross my path is met with a stream of curses you don't hear from gangsta rappers. But I never have the energy to really shout them, I just mutter to myself and sigh a lot. If there are traffic jams I can become homicidal, good thing I don't carry weapons. When I finally get to the lab, I first have to sit and gaze at the computer with the second cup of coffee until it's almost 10am and only then I can pretend that I'm semi useful. The guys at the lab are already familiar with my sunny cheerful morning personality and tend to not engage in conversation.
They greet me almost every morning with: "Oh, you look tired…" no way.
My wish is to have a job I can perform from 11 to 4 and then go home and sleep every morning till at least 9:30 (with the short break of dressing the kids and scream at the top of my lungs).
Hope you all have a great morning!

Is there a Doctor in the house?

It has been two months since I received my PhD degree. After 5 years, some good days and a lot of bad ones, it was finally over. My thesis is bound and gathering dust in the library.
So what now? Currently I'm still in a lab, as Post-Doctoral fellow. But I feel I need to decide what will be my future: is science the career I want? Is that what I dreamt of? Am I going to the Academia and stay in research? Going to the biotech industry? Teach?
There are many options and each very demanding in its way. Everybody around me is very impressed with the achievement and the title Doctor sounds magical. I've been asked a few times to refer to myself as Doctor. It feels ridiculous. Real doctors either sit in hospitals and clinics and usually declare that whatever is wrong with you is a virus, or fly around the universe in a blue police box called the TARDIS.
So, I went down to the crossroad, (like that old song by "Cream") and I need to think it out. What is the next big challenge? Where do I see myself in 10 years (except in my son's Bar-Mitzvah)? A difficult question. Ideas anyone? Job offers?
For now I'll postpone answering all these nagging questions and settle in watching previous seasons of "Doctor Who?" David Tennant is the best.

Tatoo of a washing machine

When I was 22 right after I got married, I got myself a tattoo of a small elephant on my right shoulder. For a long time I've wanted to add another one on my forearm but couldn't find the courage or the right thing to be tattooed.
Well, I think I got an idea now. The past 10 days were insane, crazier then usual. My 3 kids got sick and once they started to feel a bit better I got sick myself. It was a stomach bug. A very nasty virus that causes constant diarrhoea and vomiting and poses a real danger for dehydration. We had children puking in stereo. One in our bathroom and the other all over his bed. We changed bed linens every night, and pillows and blankets. This was the week that my husband was actually grateful that I'm addicted to buying textile, luckily we had enough sheets and blankets. I buy a lot of blankets, its one of those disorders that comes out of being a descendant of European Jews: you should always be prepared to be cast outside to the snow. Anyway, the kids were miserable, and once the Doctor declared it was a virus - in other words: "There's nothing I can do" we just had to wait it out. The washing machine was working constantly. I think its fair to say that this week wasn't a very "green" one in our house. Lots of detergent, fabric softener and soap got spilled and the most rigorous washing plans were applied using lots of hot waters.

For the first day of the working week both my husband and I stayed home to take care of the sick bunch and to wash the carpet occasionally. I stayed home with the bunch for a couple of days more after. Since they got sick at the weekend, I spent almost a week in my pyjamas. It made me feel depressed and cranky as if I'm doomed to folding pants and duvet covers for all eternity.

Once they got better and I thought " oh what fun going back to work again!", I got the virus and started to crumple with stomach aches. My kids were very considerate as usual : fighting and screaming. My young one howled for 10 whole minutes when I refused to give him more candy. The virus hit me hard and left my husband as the nurse of the house. The best thing about tummy bugs is that you can't eat. I lost 2.5 kg in 5 days. That actually made me very happy though pale.

Things are back to normal in our house hold. I got back to work at the lab (microbiology lab of all places) , my husband is no longer Florence Nightingale and the kids got back to school and the nursery. I made a promise to myself that if I'll ever have an urge to have a fourth child I should remember this week. Drowning in piles of smelly laundry and scents of vomit and shit drifting around the house. That is why I'm getting myself a tattoo of a washing machine. Original don't you think?