Back from chillin' with the Village People to hangin' with the Chosen People.

It was a wild two weeks of visiting family and friends back in Ontario so there was lots of laughs and good times, but I must say, it is nice to be back in my own little home. Thinking back, it is amazing how much got crammed in. It was great to be able to give people big hugs an hear their stories and I might have come down with a wee case of Auntie fever playing with baby Vivian.

I got a big laugh when I saw our friends Lawrence and Renske, who are farmers down near my Grandma's old place. Lawrence came in from the fields, took one look at me said "The Israeli" and giggled. Renske tells me he is my biggest blog fan but is lacking the computer savvy to comment on my posts.

Apparently I am his inside source for the situation in the holy land to his church group, so he wants me to tell him more about the political stuff. My experience in Israel has been quite biblical in style, and I don't mean a case of Jerusalem syndrome and thinking I am Jesus or something. All of it is in little stories and parables that I will spend the rest of my life trying to figure out the meaning of. My poor father had to spend hours in the truck with me on the ride home from Grandma's and got an earful of anecdotes without any uniting theme or opinion other than "Janet and/or Israel is messed up." On top of the litany, he got the nasty cold I caught from the passport checker lady in the Tel Aviv airport. Sorry, Dad.

So Lawrence, sorry, you are not going to get answers here, only more confusion. But I am curious about what you have to say, so get working on speeding up your hunt-and-peck typing.