There are many reasons why I’m glad I can work from home. Rainy, Winter days are definitely one of those reasons. Today is pretty cold (for Israel at any rate), and we have rain forecast for the whole day. We’ve had a small downpour already this morning:
A hailstorm arrived as our kids were about to walk to school. We waited a few minutes, and I took them out when the rain seemed to ease, somewhat. I returned home with pretty soaked jeans, so thank goodness for tumble dryers!
As you may (or may not) know, Winter is our rainy season (it’s literally the only time of the year when we have rain). It’s cold, wet, and I like it (mostly). Each year, Israelis are tempted by a wide variety of rain resistance devices, commonly known as “umbrellas”.
And each year, Israelis buy these devices in the hope that they will protect them from volumes of water falling from the sky (ie, “rain”). Unfortunately, this belief is sorely misplaced.
You see, after what feels like 9 months of summer, we Israelis forget that, when it rains, we also often have wind, the strength and determination of which rivals saftas at a gefilta fish sale, the day before Pesach. In other words, the wind can be really strong and it hits you from the side, as if out of nowhere!
At that point, all your well-intentioned plans to not get wet are dashed, like leaves and small creatures swept away by the torrents of rain water down the road beside you. Inevitably, your Rain Saviour is exposed for the sham it really is, and you are forced to abandon it.
Here’s the painful truth: umbrellas are a con that we fall for every year. The only good defence against the dark, rain-bearing clouds is a decent water-resistant jacket of some description.
Yes, you feel more exposed being out there with nothing to hold above your head. But let’s face it, that thin membrane supported by a fragile metal frame is a false sense of cover, at best.
At worst, it’s another fraud perpetrated by seasonal umbrella sales people, taking advantage of those of us with very short memories, and a little anxiety about this strange change in the weather from unbelievably hot and dry to cold, very wet, and jetstream windy!
There is hope. It’s not too late.
Even though Winter already seems to be thinking about heading south, we may still have some wet weather ahead.
Discard your deceptive rain protection device and embrace the rain jacket. Stand tall, stoop only to keep your face pointing away from the deluge, and duck to avoid low hanging, dripping branches.
Ride out the rain for as long as we have it. It will soon be the other season and we can forget these challenges, at least until next year when all the umbrellas go on sale again.
Our rainy season has well and truly started. I heard a cover by an Israeli singer, Dikla, of the classic Eurythmics song “Here comes the rain again” last night on radio. It was a great opportunity to introduce our kids to the classic song as well as Dikla’s cover with these two videos:
The imagery in the Eurythmics music video is strange. I can’t quite work out what the symbolism is and the relationship to the lyrics. We just told our kids it was the 80s and artists did strange things back then.
Dikla’s cover has a very distinct sound. I can’t remember where I first saw this video. I have a feeling it was on TV at our local barber while waiting to have my haircut.
I’m pretty sure this music video was shot in Tel Aviv. I’m sure I recognise the street. I like this version of the track and her accent gives it a unique sound.
I wanted to find out more about Dikla and found a profile in Haaretz from 2014 titled “Singer’s Story: Arab Music Roots, TA Street Life” which makes for interesting reading. She has a sound that seems pretty Arabic (at least to me) and the profile explains many of her influences.
Our daughter is afraid of storms after a bad experience during a particularly windy one last year. Last night she asked me if we would have storms this week after I mentioned we were expecting rain today and tomorrow. I drew this for her and left it for her when I left for work this morning.