Memoirs of a daydream

Ok dokey! We made short order of E1 today. Clint made the mistake of telling Steve that he was denied opportunity to join the servus opus of squaredom. If I was him, I’d be content to remain in the comfort of Tent City in BedouinVille. But give the man his dignity and let him sweat… so he did.

We finished E1 (left the scary scorpion den) and moved over to F3. Ah! A fresh square, packed down by 6 yards of dirt and 3 yards of stones, packed down further by the back hoe that removed it all. What treasures lay wait for us? One strike of the pick told all. If it wasn’t surface stones, it was hard packed dirt that a pick would barely penetrate. But the persistent Team Canada worked like diligent beavers (unlike marmots). We worked on the SE corner of the square which yielded a wall, four fuchsia flamingo feathers, a partial roll of “Admit One” tickets and an autographed Bangles CD (the only track that was intact was titled “Walk Like An Egyptian”).

The SW corner of F3 was more exciting – I found 5 Scorpions! One stayed in one place and seemed to pulse rhythmically – the other 4 were much more animated, moving about in short staccato motions… the experience rocked me like a hurricane. I wondered if anyone would believe me if I told them what I saw, but to face the heat in this crazy world, where few see eye to eye, I thought it say nothing and set my sights on a holiday. Out of nowhere, a western breeze picked up, the winds of change. I looked down and the Scorpions were gone – bad boys running wild. Oh my! I think the cucumbers are getting to me.

Today was also a time of elevated political unrest in Israel. Hezbollah forces allegedly crossed into Israel and kidnapped two more soldiers. I heard a dull thumping sound from the hilltop where we worked. It was more like background noise to me. Then somebody asked me if I could hear the bombing. Oh yah! Can you say artillery shells?

It’s one of those sounds that any foot soldier, artilleryman or tanker would recognize from live fire exercises. Surround sound can’t do it justice – nor can the thump-mobiles that some of the teenagers drive these days. The pitch was too low to be gunship rockets; the ground vibration was too prominent to be 80mm mortars. If you’re close enough to the gun when it fires, your earplugs press deeper into your ears, it feels like you are getting hit with a 2x10 across the chest – and your regularity is likely to be tested.

On the way down the hill, I rode in the front seat and heard a talk show on the radio. The caller was fairly excited about something and the word mil’chamah (fight, battle) was used repeatedly – it didn’t sound good. I flipped the tube on after lunch. Sure enough, the there was footage of artillery attacks in parts unknown. The CNN website carried the same footage describing the circumstance when the soldiers were kidnapped.

The thumping noise remained in the distance for the rest of the day. It was surreal. The news I watched in a foreign language was the same as the news I watched at home. The skirmish was still confined to the box in the livingroom. If I didn’t want to watch it, I could turn it off and it’d go away.

Someone in the group talked about a conversation they had with a lad named Alla I think his name is. He was part of the Haifa team – but he lived in Texas (I think). The details are sketchy to me, but he was thinking about going to (or passing through) Jerusalem during this time of conflict. His dad said to go, his mom said not to. So he asks, “What should I do?” If I understood the recap accurately, the message given was to consider the people who love him, namely, his folks. Good advice at a time like this!

If the circumstances here regress, which seems so symbolic, I wonder what it will take to pull the pin on the dig. It’s good to see the end in sight though. I miss Connie. I miss the headache of sorting out my kids’ crises. I miss Wednesday lunch at the lodge with my mom. I miss paying bills on the internet.

Oh yes – I also miss flushing toilet paper, shower curtains, bathroom fans and sealed doors. 1 day and a wake up.

That’s what kind of day it was today.

In Christ,
'o δοuλος