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Ultimately though, the traffic jams end, the soldiers are on my side, and I rarely take the bus these days. The heat, however, of Tel Aviv in the summer--April to December--is unrelenting; an immutable force, like gravity, or Bill Clinton's libido. And it doesn't cool down in the evenings, it's not a 'dry heat', and it never, ever, rains.

Our first seven months here were spent living in an un-air conditioned apartment--did I mention the heat? Things only improved last May when my in-laws' next door neighbour was good enough expire. (Read: he died. Eeeasy, the guy was 98 years old).

His timely death freed up his apartment for the by now scorched Weinberg clan, and we bid a fond adieu to our spirited yet useless ceiling fan and moved into the vacant apartment as quickly as we could. Yes, we now live next door to my in-laws--with all that this implies--but the apartment has air conditioning.

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