Tel Aviv street art

We're leaving Israel today. One more hour in the apartment packing, a couple of hours at the airport checking in and organising, five hours in the air and then London!!

Right now I'm feeling sad to be leaving Israel after such an incredible month, I'm nervous and excited about the next leg of this adventure, and I'm trying to remember to check under every bed, in between every couch cushion and behind every drawer.

I have another post in my head that I'll hopefully write in the next few days about our highlights and low lights of our trip so far, but until then here are some pics I took of the street art in Tel Aviv.

It's been one month since we have lived amongst people who speak the same language as us and it'll be so simple to make ourselves understood this evening when we ask directions to our Airbnb. Same language but new accents, currency and geography...the adventure continues...

I hope you have a very happy weekend - have you got some fun stuff planned?

I think ours will be spent exploring and if Indi has anything to do with it there'll be loads of shopping too.

Shalom to you my friends - see you on the other side.

Love Kate
xoxo

five stories of Israel

Shalom friends.

So much for my grand plans for catching up and documenting our trip up to date here. I guess sometimes a tiny apartment, too many people always talking at once and the dodgiest Internet get in the way.

Last time we came to Israel we did the tourist thing. We travelled from the middle to the bottom and then the middle to the top and did all the touristy things in between. It was fun, and educational, and exhausting, and inspiring. We learnt history and geography, we walked on 2,000 year old tiles, stayed in a hotel on the edge of a crater, we floated on the Dead Sea and sosososo much more.

This time around we wanted to do something different. This time we wanted to live in the same place for a while and get to know the people, the culture and the way of life a little. This time we planned to spend two weeks in the middle of Israel in a crazy beach side city called Tel Aviv and then travel up north to a vegetarian settlement for a week and then back to Tel Aviv before we leave.

This time we've found a couple of places that make great coffee, we've discovered that if you want to go for a run along the beach in the morning you have to leave home well before seven or it's just too hot, we've visited a gorgeous vegetarian cafe where we felt right at home, we've spent time at markets and museums and the beach, and we've gradually been getting a sense of direction as we've walked miles and miles each day.

I've got zillions of photos and tales to tell, I really hope I get around to sharing them but with only three days left here I thought the best place to start might be one story each. So here goes.



Indi - On the first day we arrived up north on Moshav Amirim we spent a while in their little shop stocking up on kitchen essentials to see us through our stay. As we were wandering up and down each aisle trying our best to read labels and make the best choices Miss Indi started to feel hot and bothered and went to sit on a bench outside. Not long after she sat down a dog came and started rummaging through someones bag of food they had left near her. When they returned and pointed to the mess and asked her in Hebrew who was responsible she confidently replied - kelev! Dog.

How cool is that feeling you get when something just clicks. A foreign country, a foreign language, a foreign word starting to make sense tiny bit by tiny bit.



Jarrah - I guess one of the fears of taking three children to a country so different to the one they live in is the food situation - what will they eat? For us, local food is one of the reasons we do love to travel, but it's always a risk with the girls.

Well I'm here to tell you that Miss Jarrah has embraced the Middle Eastern tradition of eating shakshuka for breakfast. She loves it!! After five days away up north, the first thing she wanted to do yesterday on our return was walk down the street to find a cafe serving her fave. To her delight we found a place that served the baked egg dish in a rich, spicy tomato sauce served inside a sliced round challah. You should have seen her happy face.

Shakshuka for breakfast is a very long way away from the porridge and honey that we eat at home each day but something tells me we might have to mix it up a bit when we get home.



Pepper - While we were up north we spent quite a bit of time with a gorgeous family with three girls of their own. The most beautiful thing was to watch our girls playing with theirs without the use of verbal language. To watch our seven year old and theirs pointing and gesturing and laughing. To see how quickly they worked out things they could both do together that didn't need words - things like swimming pool games, loom bands, pretending to be cats and swinging on swings and hammocks.

Mostly they were the quietest that two seven year olds playing together have ever been.

At one stage after leaving them together and coming back a few hours later, we found them all swinging on swings and hammocks with arms draped around each others shoulders giggling like crazy and calling out random words they had exchanged in each others' languages.

Much later that same night, an extremely overtired Miss Pepper leaned over to me and whispered in my ear that she loved me so much more because I speak English and she can understand what I'm saying. It's so amazing watching the big wide world opening up to them.



Along with being in charge of directions and bus timetables and currency conversion and all manner of organisation - One of the highlights of this trip for me has been watching my farmer boy share his story of this country with our girls. Listening to him talking about history in a way that engages and excited the girls is priceless.

One day a few weeks back we were walking to the Tel Aviv museum in the heat of the morning when he pulled us all over into the shade of an ancient olive tree and told us of a time 20 years ago when he was living here. An exciting time when the Prime Minister of Israel was making inroads to peace with the Palestinians only to have it smashed when he was murdered by an Israeli who opposed the trading of land for peace.

Watching our girls' faces as they heard his personal story of life here at that time, listening to their questions as they came to terms with what had happened and then feeling their hunger to see more at the memorial, to stand on the balcony where it all happened and to google it all when we got home made me so proud of our guide and so happy that our girls are experiencing this with us here.



I guess for me, as much as I've loved being here again, as much as the sunshine, the family, the markets, the food, the culture, the friends, the craziness of this country inspires me and excites me - one of the best parts of this trip for me has been that I have started drawing and painting again. I know that it's insane to think that I needed to come across to the other side of the world for that, but I think I did.

Each afternoon we've been coming home from wherever we've spent the morning and we've sat around a kitchen table and made art in our journals. We've tried to capture the flavours and feelings of where we've been and it's been awesome!! Thinking about it gives me the same excited feeling in my tummy that working with wool does. I'm thrilled to have rediscovered this part of myself that has sat unused and unloved for too many years.


As I write this Indi is sitting next to me writing in her journal, the littler two are reading Harry Potter and my farmer boy is trying to find more ways to share our Dharma school crowd funding campaign with the world. It's seven at night back home but here it's midday and time to pack up our books and head out for lunch and some exploring.

Wishing you peace in your lives and in our world.

Shalom!

Love Kate xoxo

Life on the other side of the planet

Shalom friends!!

How are you? What's going on in your part of the world?

We're still here in Israel. We've moved from the middle to the top and are staying with a vegetarian community. Last time we were in Israel one of my Instagram friend suggested that we come here and visit her family who run the bakery, so we did and we loved it and now we're back.

It's much quieter here than Tel Aviv city where we've just come from and I plan to spend a bit of time catching up my blog. Maybe while the girls are writing their journals this afternoon I'll make a start. I have loads of photos and stories to tell you. Life on the other side of the world has been interesting and exciting and inspiring and terrifying and eye opening.

Oh and life on the other side of the world is HOT!!!!

People here can't believe it when we tell them it's so cold that it's almost snowing at our little farm in Australia.

OK, the girls are desperate to get to the swimming pool. I'll post again soon.

Love Kate

xoxo

PS I have no idea why my photos are looking a bit fuzzy. I've spent waaaaaay too long this morning trying to work out what's going on. Sorry.

In theory

I have a theory that mostly people get stuck on the details and don't see the bigger picture. At least I hope so when it comes to my crazy, chaotic, colourful home.

I have a theory that the mail you pick up in the morning dictates the type of day you'll have.

Too many bills - not so great.
No mail - blah.
An invitation or postcard - fun.
A surprise prezzy - WOHOOOO!!!!

Today I had a GREAT day!!

Thanks beautiful Dria and family for this amazing, amazing, amazing parcel of wool from Israel. The most wonderful present of all. xx

I have a theory that kale added to any meal automatically makes that meal extra healthy.

Tonight we ate kale in our pasties and in the salad. Healthy ++

I have a theory that once these last few tomatoes are finished, I can go without for the next six months if I find something to eat on my toast instead.

In the last few days I've tried pickled beetroot, semi dried tomatoes, pickled cucumbers and olives but I'd still prefer a little, rosy red cherry.

I HAD a theory that I would come home from Israel and cook Middle Eastern every day, but I really haven't. Except once. 

Maybe I should have had a theory about focusing on the actual food more and the eating less. 

I have a theory that my life is about to become VERY full of caravans and caravan merch.

I made 20 of these felt caravan book marks for some sales people out of that felt I bought last week. I hope they like 'em.

I have a theory that if you pop some interesting detail at your front door, people might not notice the enormous pile of shoes and gum boots. Maybe?

Actually, maybe that theory doesn't really work. If they don't notice them they're more likely to trip over them. Not so good after all.

And I have a theory that the excitement of winter's first broccoli is right up there with the excitement of spring's first asparagus and summer's first berries. Yum!

I have more.
But that's probably enough for now.
Do you have a theory on one of my theories, or a theory or two of your own?
I'm all ears.

xx

Israel - the cardi

Last week my gorgeous friend Tania bought a hand knit jumper for five dollars from a girl at a trash and treasure market.

The jumper was all intricately knitted with reindeer and colour-work and patterns. The jumper was knitted from super soft, cuddly wool. And the jumper was knitted for the girl who sold it to Tania by her Mum. For FIVE DOLLARS!!

My Jazzy chose the pink Australian merino wool for this cardigan a few days before we left for Israel.

I cast on and knitted the first few rows at about two o'clock in the morning the night before we left in the hope of convincing airline security that I was indeed a knitter and not just the carrier of two pointy sticks and a ridiculous amount of yarn.

I held my breath each time we passed through the x-ray machines in airports and then happily knitted rows of the lace detail all the way through to the sleeve separation before we landed in Israel.

Jazzy's Israel cardi was the perfect traveling knitting project. Long rows of knit and purl that I could pick up on the bus, or after meals, or in the hotel at night and then shove down deep in my bag under cameras and phones and chargers and bits of paper.

I knitted that cardigan while we were acclimatising on our first few days in Tel Aviv. I knitted it in Jerusalem in between visits to the Old City and the markets. I knitted a big chunk on our trip to the desert down south, if you look carefully I'm sure you'll find bits of Negev sand and dust from the dust storm we got caught up in. I got a lot of knitting done the day we drove from all the way south, all the way up north, lucky I don't get car sick. I knitted the last of the length on our way back to Tel Aviv and decided to save the sleeves for the plane home.

I did worry a bit that I would finish the sleeves to quickly and be left on the plane home with empty, idle hands, but I needn't have.

Again I held my breath each time we passed through airport security. I imagined myself in tears if they took my needles away and how my precious stitches would unravel. But again, the sticks must have looked safe enough and I knitted all the way home.

Short round rows of 53 stitches, all the way home.

There are so many miles in this cardigan. So many stories and adventures and details. From the wool carefully chosen at last year's Bendigo Sheep and Wool show, to the selection of the beautiful Tikki pattern and all that travel in between. I hope My Jazzy wears it often and it reminds her of how loved she is.

But if you happen to see her at a trash and treasure market in about ten years time selling this jumper for $5, would you do me a favour and remind her. Thanks.

Ravelery details here, I'll finalise the yarn totals when I can get it off her.

Big love peeps.

I hope your weekend is delicious.

I'm off to deal with the carnage left by the first frost of the season. Ouch!

xx

creative space

I only saw one female artist/crafter the whole time we were in Israel. She was in Tel Aviv at a craft market and she was crocheting the finest cotton thread into necklaces and earrings and brooches. Her work was beautiful and I stood there for a while watching her hands perform those familiar stitches over and over again.

Male artists/crafters we saw aplenty.

They were old and they were young, and they were making in shops, in the street and in market stalls. We saw shoe makers and carpet weavers and jewelers and painters and wood workers and tailors. 

We saw a guy sitting just outside his shop in one the busiest streets of Tel Aviv carefully mending a Persian carpet. Strand by colourful strand he wove the colours back into the worn patch oblivious to our watching eyes.

We saw men hunched over parchment painting intricate landscapes and scenes using calligraphy quotations from the Bible.

We saw a man in a busy market place on an ancient treadle sewing machine mending clothes and chatting to passers by.

And we saw this man. He hesitated when I asked him through a translator what word he'd use to describe his art and eventually settled on silver smith. We thought artist or artisan was more apt.

This man was tucked up in the side of his tiny shop in the ancient cobble-stone lined city of Tsfat in the North of Israel. As we walked around admiring his gallery, he continued the intricate work he was doing on a Hanukkiyah undistracted. 

Despite the fact that our family virtually filled his space to overflowing and I was moving around taking photos of everything I could, he seemed happy and relaxed and comfortable.

I think I love to watch artists/crafters work almost as much as I love to create myself.

I love watching their hands making the work, sometimes careful and concentrated and sometimes fluent and fluid and flying. I love examining their tools and how they are organised, particularly if they show signs of being homemade and well loved. I love imagining the story of how they began; was it a family trade passed down through the generations, was there a mentor/apprentice type of exchange, or was it self taught?

I wonder how long they have been sitting in that spot, doing that thing.

I wonder if the carpet repairer ever wishes he made the whole carpet, if the tailor swears when he breaks a needle and if the calligraphers have to start again if they make a mistake.

I couldn't get this guy out of my head for ages after we left his little shop. I thought of him hunched over his beautiful work day in-day out, creating the most incredible artworks that now grace the mantlepieces and walls of homes all across the globe. I wish I got a wider shot of his shop so you could see his little work area set into the wall amidst his treasures, just beautiful.


My own makings have been far from successful since we've been home. I seem to be unravelling and unpicking everthing I start. I'm blaming the jet lag.

I hope you are feeling inspired and creative.
What are you making/baking/growing?
More creative spaces here.

Wow, is that the time?
I'm off to pick up my girlies.

Bye. xx

my girlies.

Portraits of my three.

I know I'm late to Jodi's portrait party, but better week 15 than never hey.

So here goes;

Miss Pepper sitting on the slippery (she had a bruised elbow to prove it) steps of Rosh Pina, one of the oldest Jewish agricultural settlements of Israel.

Miss Jazzy on the roof of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in the Old City of Jerusalem.

Miss Indi sitting on a bench in the back alleys of Jerusalem while we were wandering around looking for a cafe/bookshop. There was a homeless man hovering over us and as soon as we left he lay himself down for a rest.

Ohmygoodness, were we really there just a few days ago? Wow!!


So there's my set.
Are you playing along with Jodi's portrait a week too?
Have you been keeping up?
Have you portraited this week? Maybe I'll come and visit at four in the morning when jet-lag is kicking my bum.

Big portrait love and have a rad week you guys.

xx

home

We're home and I don't know what the words are, the feelings are all jumbled up inside me. I'm hoping it's the jet lag. We've travelled far over the past few weeks and our eyes and hearts and minds have been wide open. We've covered some serious ground and been inspired like never before.

And now after 30 hours of travel door to door, we're home. After delayed flights, four crappy movies, a vomiting child, awful plane food and losing seven hours of time, here we are.

After breaking all the jet lag recovery rules and sleeping through most of the day I woke up this afternoon and felt ghastly. Sort of shaky and unbalanced. Like I'm not over there anymore, but I'm not really here yet either.

I wandered around the house. I tried to sit down and knit the last eight rows of my cardi, I tried to focus on the movie the girls were watching and I tried to think about considering unpacking. But I just felt lost. 

Until someone asked for some rocket and tomatoes for their feta toast. And that forced me into my boots and jacket and out of the house.

And lucky for me my farmer boy came too.

And as we wandered and weeded and picked and washed, we remembered.

Vegie gardening is ace!

The thrill of seeing how big the seeds we planted three weeks ago have grown, the smell of freshly picked coriander and rocket, the excitement of discovering red tomatoes amidst the jungle of green, pulling up bunches of colourful carrots, admiring the flowers - both the planted ones and those of vegies gone to seed and the feel of the last minutes of sunlight on our skin. With our hands in the soil, for the first time in days our feet were on the ground.

This coming home bit feels a bit icky, but we'll be ok.

Our home is where the five of us are...and where our kitchen garden grows.

xx