Well, my friends, just another day in our wonderful homeland of Israel where everything is normal and nothing is normal. My son and grandkids are taking a staycation in Tel Aviv and we went to join them for the day. The trains are full. I saw four haredim studying the Talmud together. I saw adorable boy and girl soldier couples holding hands. I saw lots of children, and grandparents, none of them too terrified to leave the house and go out for a summer day trip.

The Dan Tel Aviv, where they are staying, isn’t empty, but it’s not packed either, the way it should be in August. Many of those staying there are French Jews who came in spite of the saber-rattling. They even unexpectedly ran into the sister and brother-in-law of my daughter who is married to a Parisian and lives in Paris! I give them a hug and thanks for this expression of solidarity. Way to go!

The Tel Aviv boardwalk and its lovely beaches are also not empty, but they are not totally filled either, which actually makes this a great time to visit (if you are like those of us who live in Israel). My son told me that while he was at the beach with his family a German television news crew asked to interview them. “How is it that you [unsaid but understood – insane] Israelis are taking a day at the beach?!! Don’t you read the news? Aren’t you terrified?”

Well, my articulate son soon explained in the nicest terms possible, there was no way Israelis are going to hide while our enemies dither, making their plans. It’s summer. It’s our vacation. Too bad for the Iranians. Later, in a WhatsApp conversation he sent his sister a lovely beachfront photo with his kids with the caption: “Passing the time in Tel Aviv while the Iranians get their act together.”

“Let’s hope they don’t” she replied.

It’s very Israeli, this black humor, this refusal to be cowed. I’m really proud of my Sabras. Nasrallah, head of Hezbollah, said today: “This expectation of an attack is also part of our response (to Haniyeh’s assassination). It’s psychological warfare.” Not working so well for you, according to my kids. Nasrallah’s speech, filled with his usual threats, was a little hard to hear as Israeli planes deliberately flew over Beirut breaking the sound barrier and filling the city with loud booms. Ha ha!

Israelis are unfortunately experienced veterans of terror attacks. That doesn’t make it right that we have to live this way, but it explains a lot. My son and his wife are both army veterans, and his wife’s grandfather was the officer in charge of evacuating Neve Yaakov during the War of Independence when the area was overrun by Arab armies. He got everyone to safety, including those who needed to be carried, walking all the way to Mount Scopus. So no, no one is shaking in their boots, Mr. Nasrallah. But how disgusting to terrorize innocent people because of your warped, hate-filled antisemitic agenda!

I’m also not terrified. But unlike my kids, I was eager to take the train home to be in a familiar place where I’d know what to do if there was a siren. I wouldn’t even know how to find a bomb shelter in the middle of the swanky boutiques and coffee shops of Tel Aviv’s Neve Tzedek! Here at home, I have my own, personal bomb shelter (used as an office during normal days) as well as all my emergency supplies. But so far, the IDF Homefront Command hasn’t issued any directives advising people to stay close to home, except in the Galilee and the Golan Heights. And they should know.

On the way home on the train – which goes all the way to Nahariya – I read that Hezbollah suicide drones had been launched at the Galilee and 19 people were injured. The explosion took place in the middle of a four lane highway near Nahariya. Some of those injured were from a nearby Arab village. I was, obviously, very upset to hear this. Whenever our enemies are able to harm us, I feel the lack of God’s protective hand. I was relatively relieved to learn later, however, that the injuries were not the result of Hezbollah’s drone, but an accidentally off-course Israeli interceptor projectile. Obviously, that’s also terrible, but you know what I mean. If it was our own fault, at least we can learn from it and try to do better. A successful attack would have been much worse.

In response to Nasrallah’s praise of his delaying tactics, our Defense Minister Galant said: “Every day, we are perfecting our readiness, it could take place at any moment.” In the meantime, it’s business as usual with the IDF blowing up five Hezbollah terrorists in a building in Lebanon.

Nasrallah also spoke of his personal pain at Israel’s elimination of his dear departed friend, Shuad Fukr, Hezbollah Chief of Staff blown up by the IDF last week in Beirut: “I had a personal relationship with Fuad Shukr. Everyone in Hezbollah knows my relationship with him and its depth. He was among the founders of Hezbollah and from the beginning assisted in building Hezbollah’s capabilities. From the first day of the war until the day he was killed, we would talk every day at 18:00 (even on the last day of his life). Fuad was a strategist, smart, farsighted, could talk for hours without a page in front of him. Educated generations of Hezbollah operatives…”

Oh my, oh my, brings a tear to my eye… Not. Thank you IDF. You know who to take out!

And so we wait. Psychological warfare goes both ways. I’m sure our enemies are also imagining exactly how devastating the Israeli response will be to any attack. Let them stew. I don’t think the people of Beirut or Teheran are at the beach.

And let me end with this: I see our enemies everywhere. I see them in my birthplace chanting their ugly slogans; all over Europe, in France, Great Britain, Scandinavia, Germany, Italy. They are everywhere and they’ve brought their hate and backwardness with them. If I ever had to leave my beloved homeland, where would I go? No, I’m staying put here. My family is staying here. We will take our stand here. I don’t want to live in a world that they have conquered. I don’t want to live in a world where our homeland is wrested from us, its rightful owners. Whether our God helps us and saves us, or destroys us, in either case I will accept His judgement.

I’m not planning on going anywhere, because – whatever happens – there is no place in the world I would rather be.

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