The Scribbler

I looked at the pictures emanating from the Mars Phoenix Lander, with incredulity. Could it really be possible that I was seeing a picture that had only been taken a day before? Think about it. We are now able to view detailed photographs from the planet Mars. How cool is that? Is this something that our parents could have imagined when they were our age? Not our grandparents....our parents! I've written this before but I'm still awestruck at the level of technology I can access these days. Putting aside the fact that I can pick up my emails on the move (could you have foreseen doing that, five years ago?), listen to whole CD albums on devices the sizes of credit cards and even watch my favourite TV shows in HD on a computer - how could I predict, even a year ago, that I would be picking up freshly minted photographs from another planet on my mobile phone?! On Monday (the Bank Holiday), we all went to Central London. We walked across Westminster Bridge, braving the pelting rain...

It has taken almost a year, but I think I'm finally making some in-roads, albeit small, in my school. Today, I saw that my Year 10 class, who are pretty challenging (and whom I see a lot!), are finally starting to produce the kind of results that I always hoped they would. There really is nothing more satisfying than sharing the moment when a student prints out his or work and looks over it proudly, boasting an expression that screams out "look what I've done!" We smiled at one another, the student and his teacher, in united recognition of a printed piece of paper, that meant so much more than a simple piece of manufactured wood. That printout had my blood, sweat and tears ingrained into every atom of it's miserable being. However, at that moment, all was forgotten. The student, the teacher and the paper were united in something indescribable. If you ever wonder why I, or anyone else wants to be a teacher - that piece of paper contains the very essence of why we p...

What on earth can I say about the tragedies in Burma and China? How can my pithy words render any meaning the sheer catastrophe of what is going on in the Far East? I guess they can't. I had however to write something , because I would never be able to face my conscience if I didn't make note of what has happened. Here's to the families.

I think I'm becoming redundant around the house. Dana has just demonstrated that there are no hurdles she can't jump over. A few months ago, my wife, who hitherto had barely lifted up a paintbrush, let alone use one, repainted the girls' room in such a professional manner that you couldn't tell we hadn't paid for the job to be done. A few moments ago, she maneuvered her way around the power shower and fitted a replacement cartridge, thus reuniting us with the sheer pleasure that is derived from having a gushing jet of water batter your back for an undisclosable (but classified) period of time. My wife the mother, teacher, cook, plumber and decorator. I take my hat off, in sheer awe of her many talents.

I find myself for once, lost for words. I have been giving great thought to what I could write on the occasion of my beloved's 60th birthday and struggling with the words I could use to express my adoration of the country that is Israel? I know that anything I say won't be able to describe how I feel. Words are sometimes inadequate when they are needed the most. I could say that I'm so proud to be a lover of Israel. I could continue by stating that I am so fortunate to have grown up visiting the country, year after year, decade after decade. I would then add that my heart only feels in place when I step off the plane at Ben Gurion. But I would soon find myself descending into a morass of cliches - because the feelings I have for Eretz Yisrael, cannot be vocalised. So I'll try something different. If you think of Israel as being 1 minute made up of 60 seconds (you can see where I'm going with this), imagine how wonderful that minute could be. What about an hour, with...