לנו קיבוץ אחד

לפי השיר "ספירת מלאי" של נעמי שמר
מילים: ברכה
1.
הר נידח אחד, בין הגבול לים
וקיבוצניק חרוץ ועולה חדש גם.
שמונה כלבים, ארבע תינוקות
דגל אדום אדום ומיליון רעיונות
אידיאליסטיים גדולים וכולם בעננים
ועם כל זה יחד קיבוץ נקים.
2.
גופיה אפורה, מכנסיים כחולים
ומדי פעם אחד שעובד בלי בגדים.
גברים בפעוטון, נשים במטע,
תורנות מטבח ושמירה קצרה
משאית אחת ושבעים חברים
יורדים לים ושוחים ערומים.
לנו קיבוץ אחד, קיבוץ אחד קיבוץ אחד, אני זוכרת. אתם זוכרים?
3
איש גדול, איש קטן עם גריז במוסך
וטבח עם שפם מתרוצץ במטבח.
ג'ו אחד גדול, ג'ו אחד קטן,
חשמלאי קשוח ושרברב עם זקן
ואישה אחת ושמונה גברים
קודחים פלנג'ים בלי סוף עם המון חורים.
לנו קיבוץ אחד, קיבוץ אחד קיבוץ אחד, אני זוכרת. אתם זוכרים?
4
10 עוזבים, ואחד נקלט
ו-30 ילדים צוחקים במקלט.
בנות על הגגות, גברים במגדלים
כיתת כוננות על הדשא נרדמים.
ושומר אחד עם שפם גדול
מתהלך בקיבוץ ושומע הכל.
לנו קיבוץ אחד, קיבוץ אחד קיבוץ אחד, אני זוכרת. אתם זוכרים?
5
כל מוצא שבת יושב ראש אחד
ושלושים חברים מדברים בבת אחת.
12 בעד, מתנגדים שבעה.
ומי שרוצה סוציאליזם בבקשה
הצרכים שלי, הרצונות שלו
יש סבסוד לסיגריות אך לשוקולד. לא.
לנו קיבוץ אחד, קיבוץ אחד קיבוץ אחד, אני זוכרת. אתם זוכרים?

הר נידך אחד בין הגבול לים
וקיבוצניק חרוץ ועולה חדש גם.

Guide Dogs go to the Knesset!

Yesterday there were several guide dogs in the Knesset: Turner, Disney, Thomas, and me. That was twice as many MKs who bothered to come to the meeting. Just shows who is more responsible. Anyway, getting into the Knesset took a while. Turner and I were on the bus together and when we got to Jerusalem we took a taxi to the Knesset. Bracha and Guy had to stand in line and were given little cards with blue ribbons to wear, but Turner and I just went in as we were. There were long hallways with big columns and potted plants that we had to maneuver around, and my claws made clicking noises on the shiny white marble floors. It was very pretty. Finally we got to the meeting room and Guy and Bracha sat down around a large oval table. Turner and I sat quietly underneath, and I wanted to see what important people were in the room, but it soon turned out that only the head of the Finance Committee and one MK were present. So it was five dogs against two MK's, and if we'd had a vote we would have gotten the majority! That's the way things work in the Knesset. That is, if the members come to meetings at all.

In Memory of Sam

At one point in our correspondence in the past year and a half, Sam wrote me, "While I was dying, I kept myself busy writing songs." I wrote him that I had never had a person write me what they were thinking about while dying and live to describe it. Sam was, until now, truly a survivor, and fought cancer for many years.

Sam was my madrich in KM Bet in 1966 at Camp Tavor. We were unusually close because we were both musicians, and after occasional contact over the years and then many years of losing touch with Sam, I was overjoyed to find him again on the Habonet List. When I first appeared on the list, he wrote, "Hey, Barb, is that YOU?" We then began a correspondence, in which we filled each other in about what we had been doing, and Sam sent me a lot of his music. I sent him the words to a song I wrote a month or so ago, and we exchanged news of our grandchildren. I'm glad to know that he lived to see the birth of his granddaughter, and to hold her.

I think I have spent the last few months fearing bad news about Sam, wondering if he would survive his latest battle with cancer, but I'm sad to learn that he finally succumbed to his illness. He was one of those people who was lucky to leave a legacy benind them.

The following is a passage from "Blue Shirt with a Red Lace", a book that I wrote (unpublished) about my life in Habonim and on kibbutz. It is about Sam and his songs, so I'll share it here.

Not only did we have a rich repertoire of Israeli folk songs and popular songs, American topical, folk, songs and ballads and the songs of the labor movement. We also had our own songwriter among us. Sam, our talented madrich was a prolific songwriter. He would pick up his guitar, transfer his cigarette from his mouth to its position between the strings at the head of his guitar where it would sit while he played.

Sam had a voice that was rough at the edges, but he knew how to deliver a song. We adored his songs, which covered a broad range of topics, but his most well-known song was “ Splendor Bridge ” - a song that he wrote about making Aliya to Gesher HaZiv, the kibbutz to which his gar’in was destined.

Don't you ask me
What I'm thinking
If I make you happy
I will keep on singing
For I sing when I can't talk
And I dance when I can't walk
And I'm going back to Splendor Bridge
Gonna try to call it home.



None of us could write songs like Sam. We admired him greatly, and fondly referred to his music as “Sam songs.” At one point I bitterly complained to a friend that I could not keep up - as soon as I finally learned to sing and play one song, Sam promptly showed up the next week with one or two more.

We all loved Sam for his music and for his support as he worked alongside of us planning activities in the city, putting up tents at camp, or sitting around singing. I believe that I had more than a little crush on Sam at the time and probably felt a strong kinship with him because we were both musicians, and longed for his praise and approval of my own playing and singing. For those of us who were musicians, Sam was someone to look up to, but he was not a famous songwriter who was unreachable, but one of us – he was there with us in his blue movement shirt, shorts, and sandals, planning activities with us, working at camp, putting up tents, or sitting in the clubhouse singing.

We gave Sam a surprise party when he was about to leave on Aliya. Sitting in a circle, we each said our goodbyes in our own way. The song “ Splendor Bridge ” remained with us and became an anthem.

Years later while writing this book I was overjoyed to find Sam again through the Internet after losing track of him for years. He then wrote me the following story:

I came back to New York City in 1971 and there was this kid in Washington Square singing Splendor Bridge . I was there with my new wife. Boy was she taken aback. So I asked the kid where he got the song and he said he collected it in the hills of West Virginia . That was a real laugher.

Then some time in the 80's I was driving through Michigan with a friend and I said I wanted to stop in this camp. He said "Sam, don't be stupid. No one is going to remember you after 20 years.” So we walked in and everyone was just wandering around. I asked for the Rosh Machaneh and this child by the name of Rachel appears. So I explain I was a madrich in the 60's. She asks me my name and I say Sam and she says "Flesher?" My friend nearly fainted. And then she gathers all 80 kids around the toren and gives me a guitar and says “ Play Splendor Bridge .” And I do and all 80 kids sing along. Boy, my friend was confused. The next year I returned with my son Amir who was 14 at the time and he too was kind of amazed that all the kids knew my song.

Yehi Zichro Baruch.

Carpets of Anemones

Only in Israel do people turn out in droves to see an unusual phenomenon of wild flowers blooming. THere were, indeed, droves pf people at Meggido flocking to a former panding strip to see the field of anemones in flower. The place was, as my friend Carol says, "huuching with people." But there was plenty of room along the somewhat muddy paths marked off with string and plenty of flowers to see.
The colors ranged from white to pink, mauve, lavender, and red...



And, occasionally, whimsical Mother Nature just can't make up her mind...



When I asked Rotem how many flowers were in the field, she said..."About a google."

Water Water and more Water!

Above: One of the main roads in Ben Ami!

Everyone is, without exception, talking about the weather. We stood amazed as rivers of water formed in the drainage ditches, rushing noisily past as rain continued to fall. Nahariya's main thoroughfare flooded as the Geaton overflowed its banks, and the riverbed in the moshav soon filled to capacity and the water spread to the roads and paths. The house is now filled with the unmistakable smell of eau du wet dog. We need this rain badly, but, as many other things in the country, nothing comes in moderation.


The front yard has now turned into a series of rivers and pools.

Settling In at Home

Left: Suki and Saoirse getting used to each other

Suki is lying at my feet happily transforming a leather bone into a masticated mess, and has acclimatized to moshav life with ease. Two days ago I was hesitant to take her out of the house, but soon after that we went to the grocery store for the first time, and have just returned from a walk around the block with Suki in harness and Saoirse and Nuala happily walking alongside. On the way I stopped to investigate the basketball court near the youth club and found it to be a perfect place for letting Suki run safely in an enclosed, fenced area. (The temptation to do this is overwhelming, but this will begin only after some time when I develop full trust that Suki will return to me upon command when set free).

Walking through Ben Ami Suki is cooperative and responds just like in the city in areas where there are curbs, crosswalks, and sidewalks, but walks along the road where there are none as we did in the rural walking exercise on the course. She must be terribly stimulated by everything around her – a rooster crowing, dogs barking, leaves blowing, the smell of goats, citrus fruit, and flowers - but she continues on, obeying commands, occasionally glancing behind her, perhaps to see where the other two dogs are.I imagine that her growing up in a foster family with two other dogs is invaluable in her good adjustment, and I must commend Salirse and Nuala for their good behavior as well.