Lost in the hubbub over the newest, tiniest Shmikler, there’s other good news. It looks like we have an apartment in the Old City lined up. In fact, I was emailing with the landlord from the hospital last night (“Push!” “I am pushing, but he won’t budge off of his rent demand…”).

It is a 3BR, near Batei Mahse Square. By American standards, not so big (we really don’t appreciate just how much space we’ve got in this country) but it is well-suited for our needs.

There’s so much else to think about right now that it hasn’t sunk in what it means that we’ll be living in the Old City of Jerusalem. Right after we were married, Debbie & I went on a trip to Israel and stayed with friends of friends for Shabbos in the Old City. It struck us then how crazy it was that people could live there. Debbie described it as like living in the fairy castle in the middle of Disneyland.

Those “friends of friends” are now our friends as well, and soon will be our neighbors. The apartment is right near their place. Crazy.