Fun Art by Tibi 






































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Thanks!

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Thanks for reading my book. I decided to dedicate this book to my late childhood best friend Itai Gamil who at the age of seven was was killed together with his younger brother. May their memory be a blessing.  I hope you liked it as much as I liked telling the stories.  Most of the names belong to real people but I kept many of the last names to myself.    Feel free to comment or request a change. My plan is eventually to publish this as a book. I am not sure yet if I will use pictures or to keep the recipes for another book.  I know I will be retesting the recipes and adding pictures to the blog for them. As time goes by.   If you didn’t read this from the beginning, you may do so by accessing the archive and going to the oldest date for the beginning.   Enjoy and have fun!   Tibi My art work : Crazy Art  
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Chapter 26, Chickens

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I'll tell you this story if you promise not to tell anyone and keep it a secret between us. Meme  Milli walked in one Friday afternoon, struggling through the door with her suitcase and a large, flat cardboard box resting on her hip, shaking from side to side as she was trying to hold it with one hand. Oddly, every time it moved it made a chirping noise, and it sounded like something was sliding inside. "Let me help you,  Meme ," I said and rushed to the door. "Take the suitcase, please," she answered and pushed it toward me with her foot. "Thanks."  "You're welcome," I said, "what's in the box?" "All in good time," she said with a smile. "It's a holiday gift for you and your brother." Mom walked into the room looking at the odd box and said, "Now what is this? Welcome and happy Passover Ma" Right behind her was Avi, my younger brother, yelling, "  Meme, Meme , what did you get us?...
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Introduction:

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Introduction:             “ Gling Gling Gling ” The loud noise of the rain on the metal roof of our small school muffled sound of the handheld school bell. The school was a narrow asbestos shack divided to 4 rooms each for the first four grades, a branch of a much bigger school two miles away at Avihayil the village next to Netanya. And then, just like magic, the rain stopped.       I remembered very well what Mom told me that morning:  "Now, don't forget, don't leave school if it rains, but as soon as it stops, rush right back home."  Lucky for me, the rain stopped right on time. Now, all I had to do was run home as fast as I could. I grabbed all my books, stuffed them in my school bag, picked up my chair, dropped it on top of the desk, and without realizing that it had fallen right back on the floor, zipped through the door.      Looking up toward the sky for a momen...
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