Today was 40 ºC (105 ºF) in Netanya, the hottest day of the year, and it was the day I had chosen to transfer my paintings from my studio to the location where my art show will be held, opening next Weds. It was searing hot when I shlapped the precious paintings out of the studio and loaded them into my car. The curator of the show, Eduard Paskhover, who is the manager of the Center for Immigrants (Olim) in Netanya had been over to help choose the paintings for the show, given that the hall is quite small (it would be called intimate in other contexts). So we had selected 30 paintings and these just filled the back of the car with the back seats pushed down to make a flat surface.
I drove only about 10 mins to get there, a round-about way because the street is one-way. When I arrived there was a car parked diagonally across the loading space at the back of the supermarket that is below the Center. I parked and went to the driver to ask him to move so I could get near the entrance to the Center. I recognized him as someone from our English-speaking club, and as he was about to move his wife came out of the supermarket and they left. So I parked as close as I could to the entrance. It was very hot work moving the paintings inside near the elevator that goes up only one floor, but very necessary in that heat.
As I was almost finished moving the pictures inside, a large man entered and stuck a notice in red on the elevator door. I realized immediately that I was in trouble. The man ignored me and began to service the elevator, just at that moment, opening the elevator door and putting oil all over the place (I am not making this up). I asked him in Hebrew if I could take my paintings upstairs int eh elevator and he ignored me, then I realized that he was Russian and his Hebrew was worse than mine.
Just then there was a loud beeping of horns outside, and I glanced out to see a large delivery truck waiting to enter the space that I was taking up. I ran outside and indicated to the driver that I would only be a minute, there was the last group of paintings to move, but the cars behind the truck were honking away. So I moved the last pictures into the entrance and then ran to move my car, but of course, I could not back up because the truck was blocking me (I do not make things up). Eventually the cars behind the truck backed up, so that he could back up and I could drive away. I knew a secret place to park not so far away (probably illegal, but it works) and walked back to the Center, to find that the elevator serviceman had finished his work and he helped me load the pictures into the elevator and then I was able to take them upstairs and unload them.
With Eduard, we chose where they would hang and I had to remove 7 of them that would not fit (very intimate) and I took them back to the studio. By today, All the paintings are hung and in place, ready for the opening tomorrow evening.