It is sometimes possible to overlook the obvious, even if it is knocking on your door as hard as it can. (Or in our case, ringing the doorbell.) In my last article, I described one of the ‘iron laws of bureaucracy’: Get enough people into the mix, and it’s almost a certainty that one of them will be out sick, on vacation, or – God forbid – sitting shiva when you’re in need of something to get done. All of which is true, but here in The Land these days, if someone is unavailable, the most likely explanation for your person’s absence unfortunately is ‘miluim’ – with no end in sight. Now that I’ve made this emendation, I can get down to the business of the day.

Sometimes I’m happy, sometimes I’m blue, my disposition depends on you… It’s a rare day when I can’t pull out from the jukebox in my brain a song that seems appropriate to the moment. Those of you following this on-going saga might have detected what can be described as ‘mood swings,’ going from moments of good humor to a sense of despair as we get closer to THE date for moving from my beloved home to THE apartment. But it’s not just me trying to find a position for my legs around a cat at 2AM. There are reasons that everyone can relate to as to why I have felt exuberant or less-than-happy. To wit: Sometimes I’m happy…

They sell everything but the kitchen sink. Oh wait a minute, they certainly do sell kitchen sinks, as well as basins and vanities for the bathroom, faucets for both, shower stalls, bathtubs, toilets, countertops and tiles – among other things. You name it, they got it, and they have the best, the most interesting, and the priciest. The store is called Negev, and they are still in Talpiot. We met Tomer there Thursday afternoon and, sitting at a small table near the store entrance, went over his re-re-revised plans for our new kitchen – although Barbara did most of the focusing and I did most of the zoning out, because conceptualizing the location of a/c ducts is not my strong point. All the while, we were plied with cookies, coffee, and soda, and that’s because our designer is a rock star in stores like this. Not only does he bring them lots of customers, but he is regarded as the highest level of mensch on the planet. Either way, they appreciate his patronage

I had only one question about the plans. Is there any way to make the coat closet (60×60) any larger?  Well, of course there is. Tomer’s brain works like a visual spreadsheet. Instead of changing a number in one cell and thereby changing the totals everywhere else, Tomer was, in the twinkling of an eye, calculating how enlarging a closet near the entrance would affect everything around it, the a/c pipes, the height of the ceiling, where the electrical outlets would go. My idea would work; we were good to go, and now came the fun part.

This was like a kid in an ice cream store deciding which flavor to get. We began by looking at hundreds of samples to decide on a color for the kitchen cabinets. Now I was awake and alert. Within thirty seconds I had eliminated a multiplicity of possibilities (no yellow, no orange, no grey, nothing that suggested a child’s room, no fake wood) and honed in on a medium blue. One of the blessings of our marriage is that Barbara and I tend to have similar tastes in colors and styles. No surprise, Barbara was of a like mind. Let’s proceed.

From there, we went on to countertops, backsplashes, a large double kitchen sink, faucets, and bathroom sinks, although neither of us can say for certain what we selected; it was all a blur. We knew in advance that all this would cost a king’s ransom, but you don’t get to do this very often, although twice is once too often for me. But we were having a grand old time. Shopping can be fun if you put your mind to it.

(I had spent part of the morning in a sense ‘unshopping,’ having walked into Sefer v’sefel, the English language used bookstore off rehov Yaffo, with my best offer. I have a bunch of books – in good condition, ones that are marketable – that need to be rehomed. I wouldn’t be asking for any money for them, just the good feeling that they wouldn’t be spending their last days next to a dumpster once we downsize – an unpleasant activity the couple who own the store will have to do reluctantly sooner or later.  The woman told me that her husband had arrived in The Land some thirty years ago by himself with one suitcase of his belongings and thirty cartons of books, which he still has stored away. My kind of guy! Bring the books in and we’ll see. Fair enough.)

While Barbara and I were hanging out with Tomer, large sums of money were being transferred electronically into our bank account. Barbara was about to head down to our bank and have it sent on to the contractor as promised. But wait; our branch is closed on Fridays. Sunday then? The wife had a 9AM appointment at Hadassah for a doctor to re-examine the cast on her left arm, after which she’d get back to Ma’ale Adummim and we’d head to the bank together. And then my phone rang. Slight miscalculation.  She was supposed to be at Hadassah-Ein Kerem (far away), not at nearby Har Tzofim, where she had gone. It was now 12PM, and they would be taking care of her soon. Which meant we didn’t get to the bank until Monday.

Another day’s delay, but at least we’re finally on track – more or less. Our business at the bank was done painlessly, enabling us to pay the kablan the bulk of the money we owed for THE apartment. We next had to trot off to an office of the municipality to somehow make it official. Why? Because this is Israel, and that’s what you have to do. We sort of own this apartment, but we’re not going to actually LIVE in it until the beginning of December, so you can’t charge us the full arnona until then. The woman there was not used to such a situation, but she handled it as best she could. Turns out she lives a few doors away from us on Hakeren, even though we’ve never run into her before. Somehow we escaped from the Iryah without each of us having to sign eight copies of six forms. (How did that happen?)

Things were going too smoothly. Let’s see how long we could keep it going. We’ll go over to THE apartment after lunch. We still have a lot of figuring to do about where to put stuff.

Shoshana had sent me a link to a design program that I could use toarrange our furniture. She had used it, and their daughter Jordana was using it while studying interior design. Does that mean that I could do the same? The smart money in the betting markets was decidedly against me – although I didn’t know it at the time.

One thing I’ve learned over the years: DON’T bet against the smart money. Maybe if there had been someone who knew the program next to me when I tried it myself, I could have figured it out. Or maybe if I had lots of time (and maybe more patience), but I didn’t. Nor was there much of an incentive, considering it was a small one-time project – except for the self-bragging rights that I had succeeded against all expectations. Somebody – and I can’t remember who it was to thank – had suggested that I print out a few sheets of graph paper and do my figuring on that. (Pencil and paper, that’s right up my alley!) And that I did. I think this will work for the second bedroom. But what seems like a good idea on paper may not work out in the real world. (Something to always keep in mind.)

Sometimes I’m blue…

After a light repast and a bit of rest, Barbara and I trotted over to THE apartment to see what we could see. As we expected, the elevator was not working. Even if we had not been able to figure that out on our own, there was a helpful young girl there to tell us. (Lo oved.) What we didn’t expect was the situation inside apartment #6. Nothing had been done. All the stuff, all the garbage, all the supplies, all the equipment, all the rubbish that had been there before was still there. They were supposed to have cleaned it out. They told Asaf that they had. They lied.

While I was going from room to room, getting more and more upset with the situation, two Arab workers showed up. What are you doing here, they inquired of us. What are we doing here? We own this dump. What the %$*&### are you doing here? That was my reply, pointing to all the muck scattered around that wasn’t supposed to be there. Fortunately for all concerned, Barbara, with her counseling skills, kept her cool and calmly explained the situation. One of the Arab guys made a phone call and verified that these two old fart Anglos standing in front of him were indeed buying the apartment and had every right to be there. B’seder, b’seder. Were they going to clean out the apartment? Asaf, they said. In other words, there was nobody planning to ready THE apartment for actual occupancy.

Once again, let’s imagine: Your old sedan has gone on its final journey, and you’re buying a new car, which will be delivered to the showroom tomorrow. When you return the next day, the car is waiting for you. But someone has obviously been using YOUR car to drive their kids to school. There are all the candy wrappers as evidence. Plus someone spilled a juice pack on the back seat, whereupon you discover that the upholstery is the wrong color. The car was sitting out in the cold, and it needs a good cleaning. Then you notice that the side view mirror is a bit wobbly. But it’s a brand-new car and there’s a warranty. Great!

 I also realized that in creating my grand designs for the apartment, I hadn’t taken into account where the electrical outlets and switches had been placed, so I would have to rethink everything. But not then and not there; I was much too upset. No, the proper term is ‘depressed.’ What I wouldn’t give to roll back the clock several months and somehow keep Barbara from running into Esther Real Estate, so that none of this would be happening. We wouldn’t be spending all this money to move into a smaller apartment, when I’m perfectly happy where we are. But, except for what’s showing at Cinema City, time only goes forward. It’s always on the move, and so will we be, whether I like it or not.

We returned home, and I started looking at pre-election analyses on YouTube (it being Monday, Nov. 5) to help me calm down. (That’s how stressed out I was. No normal person would consider predictions made the day before an election to be in any way relaxing. Had I realized how fanciful these forecasts turned out to be, I would have been even more stressed. But, as it says somewhere, ignorance is bliss.)

Four weeks from the day; that’s all there will be before everything we still own is properly packed and on its way around the corner. Keep calm; keep calm!