By Nigel Lithman Q.C.

So there I was watching "Count down" in our home in Zichron Yaacov. It was being piloted to see if it would catch on in Israel

"Consonant or vowel Yossi?" asked Giveret Vordmann

"Its up to you" replied Yossi

"No that's not the way the games played" said Carol

"Listen, what difference? you choose"

In desperation Carol turned to the numbers section of the game.

"Mendel what numbers would you like?"

"Nu. 613 of course Carol"

Oi, sighed Carol

So having given up on afternoon TV, my attention was drawn to the drip, drip, drip noise I heard coming from upstairs. At first I    thought it was the familiar noise coming from my credit card that I had been listening to all Summer. No, it was coming from the air conditioning system that we had installed by dismantling the one at Highgate Shul and smuggling it out one piece at a time every Shabbat.

What these days are called logistics dictated that I had arrived in Israel a few days before Debbie and was currently waiting to see who was going to knock on the door first my wife or Hisbollah.

During this time I had become no stranger to noise from the bedroom as Helicopters used the air conditioning chimney as a marker on the way to Beirut.

They flew low. Sometimes very low.

"Which way to Lebanon?" asked one of the younger pilots leaning precariously out of the door. "Just go straight ...Ya Sha Ya Sha...and keep the sea on your left" I told him. I too began to think maybe this war was not going as well as it might.

Ironically that very episode led to our becoming casualties of war. But not from the Katyushas or other rockets sent blindly over by Hisbollah.

The closest we came to being hit by rockets was simply to hear the sirens at which time the local authority ordered that everyone should go to their designated safe room for twenty minutes ( unless of course they were busy, in which case ten minutes would do). We had designated the kitchen, in fact the area around the fridge, as the safe room, in order to avoid undue hardship.

The Zichron home guard had been formed to protect the most important buildings in town and so within a few days sandbags had been placed  around the ice cream parlour.

On the topic of ice cream may I digress to inform my readers that the flavour Halva is now obtainable in Israel and constitutes probably

the most fattening way to think of your ancestry.

On the topic of rockets one siren went off when I was in the middle of having my haircut, the effect so terrifying me that it turned a number 7 cut into a number 2 visit.

No not from rockets did We become casualties of war but that low flying helicopter must have dislodged an air conditioning  unit that led us into what we dubbed the air con saga.

May I remind those who read the last edition  how having spent 4 hours erecting an IKEA bed and purchasing some paper plates we regarded our home as pretty well equipped. We were up and running, what could go wrong.

Let's go to Air Con 1. Israeli air conditioning is perfect of course except in hot weather and this August has been one of their hottest.

Problems had begun before we arrived. On arrival I discovered in a room next to the kitchen a hose dangling from an air con unit into a  pipe that had been standing there just minding its own business. It had been put there I was told by the agents who keep an eye on the property as a temporary measure because the ceiling needed to be lowered. That didn't trouble us as Debbie and I are good with low ceilings. But it had been done 3 months earlier by Mickey and his installation firm in Tel Aviv who had obviously developed travel sickness since and would not make the one hour journey to Zichron. We couldn't get them back.

Let's go to Air Con 2. A smell best described as the sort for which myself and the boys usually got the blame, began to appear in different parts of the house, with no obvious cause.  Me, William, Daniel and Edward all had alibis. Our friend and agent Yoav had the solution. There must be a dead animal somewhere in the system. I am afraid I found this as an answer to the smell of " drains" unconvincing, but promised I'd call if I came across a dead  horse in the bathroom.

In fact I did find the solution. It was that pipe next to the kitchen with the temporary hose in it, which was supposed to be minding its own business. With the door open where we could keep our eye on it, it was amiable and harmless.  But with the door closed and away from prying eyes, it became a different pipe, a wicked pipe, expelling putrid air to be sucked up and distributed by the air conditioning.

Despite overwhelming odds I was convinced that if we could get the air con people to overcome their aversion to Highway 4, we were sorted.

Was that it ? Not quite.

Let's go to Air Con 3.

"Drip, drip, drip, went the bedroom." Isn't that a song?

Why is that unit leaking? I asked. Yoav had the answer. This was not a dead animal, but someone opening a door.  That tends to happen in houses, I pointed out.

This straw broke the back of Mickey's resolve and on Thursday he finally arrived with the solution. "I'll be back on Monday". So we too now wait with interest as to how this will play out.

As for Zichron, which we love, the town was not hit by missiles, but was hit in the way that probably all towns and cities in Israel have been in every war since 1948.

A 45 year old soldier from Zichron was killed the day before the ceasefire and was one of the last to die in the war, yet another hero of the state.

I sit on the terrace typing this, thinking of everything that makes this country so special. The plumber who sat himself down uninvited at the dining table, helping himself to handfuls of hazel nuts whilst telling me he hadn't a clue what was wrong with the air conditioning, is one character out of six million characters.

We are lucky to have a panoramic view from our bedroom not just of the air conditioning, but of this magical land's Mediterranean coast from Hadera to Haifa. One can only wonder how anybody could wish gratuitous harm to Israel, not just from amongst the usual rogue states, but from amongst rogue Jews, who never miss an opportunity to turn their backs on their own people to condemn Israel. So it falls to us the privileged to build and rebuild the land we have been given.

I thank G-D for having been given the blessings of not just having been able to spend time this Summer in Israel, but of being able to live with my family amongst the Highgate Community.

Debbie, William, Daniel and Edward join me in wishing The Rabbi and Rebbetson and all of the community, a happy and sweet New Year.

[Nigel Lithman Q.C. of London is a BarEl Customer]