Home takes on different dimensions in this century.  Of course we old people stayed home during covid (Yes, I am recovering from my last bout), and the rockets kept us home for a few months, and we have been warned to stock up for a long period in our shelters.  

And the millions of homeless all around the world makes us realize how wonderful it is to have a home.

But we have been concerned with a detail of home in the recent past – a bed.  For the past few months Ezi has been complaining about his back, especially in the mornings.  So we decided that even though our bed is not that old, we had to get a new one.  So last month we went around and Ezi chose the softest mattress he could find, and a more solid bed and, lured by the sale price, paid up front.  And yesterday we were informed that tomorrow morning it would be delivered – a 7 a.m.   This meant dismantling it all day (there are 4 enormous and heavy drawers), helping the guy we’re giving it to to pack everything but the mattress into his jeep, settling the mattress on the living room floor, and cleaning out the bedroom in anticipation of the new bed.

And on the floor of our living room I am already displaced.  One silly night in a comfortable place and I am already discombobulated.  Imagine what something serious may feel like.