Where Everybody Knows Your Name: The M&M Gottlieb File

6 Tamuz 5780.

It’s been a while since I wrote anything for the “Where Everybody Knows Your Name” segment of my blog. COVID-19 has scared us out of nearly all dining away from home, which means there was a little money in the budget for a couple of adventures.

Also, in these economically-devastating times, if you’re going to spend your money at all, why not spend it to try to support the local small businesses of your choice? The team of Miriam and Marc Gottlieb does such remarkably fine work, we love to do business with them. Miriam crafts beautiful, light-and-color mosaic masterpieces. 

We have needed small tables for food and beverage, because replacing computers due to spillage is far outside our family budget. And Miriam communicates zealously to be sure that the finished product suits your individual tastes. The Dearly Beloved chose a guitar motif. He was happily surprised at how perfect and full of joyful color was the resulting work. I chose a colorful naïve-art house that looks like a place from which music and poetry might spring. Miriam is available at her Facebook page Mosaics by Miriam not only to create something you will love, but to teach classes in the art of making your own beautiful mosaics.

With so much time at home, learning a new art, especially along with family members, can add a lot of joy to the coming summer days.

Since the lads were all converging on us with their families for a pre-Shabbat birthday barbecue bash for two of the little girls, and it would be the first time we were seeing all of them together since Chanukah, we decided to give Marc the “gift” of allowing him to provide our Shabbat feast. And an elegant feast it was!

We had the Boeuf Bourguignon and the Magret d’Oie Fumée (my personal favorite). The Dearly Beloved really loved the beef, remarking several times that the dish was tender and flavorful, and that the mushrooms were absolutely delicious. I felt like royalty dining on the simultaneously rich and delicate goose breast, a treat I taste maybe twice every half-century. I always worry that breast meat will end up being dry; but this need not have concerned me. This dish was sublime. I’m not eating white potatoes these days, but the Dearly Beloved remarked, “Ah. This is exactly the way I like my potatoes!”

Speaking of royalty – the Duet de Tartinades is a dance on your taste-buds you must try at least once before you drop off the twig. Short of John Keats level poetry, I’m not sure I can give over to you how lovely this little duet was. “I feel like I could get used to being a rich person with a personal chef,” I remarked to the Dearly Beloved.  You never tasted chicken liver as refined as the Pâté de foie de poulet, graced with a not-overwhelming enhancement of wine. The Rillettes d’oie is perhaps the fanciest spread I have ever tasted, consisting of an awe-inspiring blend of bits of goose leg in oil and seasonings. It is so rich that I will be having a smidgen of it with my lunch for at least a week, reaching around to see where I left my queen’s crown every few moments.

We chose the Salade Grillée to accompany the mains. While among the dishes, this is the one I could have made myself, it was prepared perfectly, with finely grilled vegetables on a variety of fresh lettuces. We’re not usually dressing fans, but this one was perfectly balanced, worth throwing care to the winds and risking the extra calories.

There was no room for dessert, so we saved the very rich and tasty Tarte au Chocolat for Seudat Shlishit. The low-sugar recipe kept the chocolate cream from being cloyingly sweet. Rather, it was very satisfying to whatever sweet-tooth we still possess after years of dialing back our sugar addiction.

Marc is a culinary artist. Just as any musician or writer or painter crafts their work, Marc delights in making of food a thing of beauty and a joy forever. And when it’s in celebration of his birthday and of that of his favorite chef, Anthony Bourdain (may he rest in peace), he spares no artistic effort.

All I can say is that Tony would be proud.

To get your (delicious) meat-fix in before the Nine Days, check out Marc’s weekly S’wichboard menu for sumptuous and generous sandwiches. Not only is the meat (and vegetarian fare) varied and delicious, but the prices are extremely reasonable, and he delivers to Jerusalem and Gush Etzion. There’s even the added attraction of a “buy 9, the 10^th is free” membership card. B’teyavon!

Photos either my own or used with permission.

Israel: Where We All Have Something to Give

6 Adar I 5779.

There I was, enjoying my very rich and busy retirement – publishing books, babysitting delightful grandchildren, playing “Mrs. Coach” to an adult American football team, participating in classes in Torah, Hebrew, painting, yoga and music – when Andy Armon’s letter appeared in the Neve Daniel chat list. She was seeking volunteers for a new program to help young ladies at the Orot Etzion Girls’ School to improve their English conversation skills.

I am very shy where public speaking is concerned. I have never been trained as a teacher. I am only a “boy mom,” meaning I’m learning about dealing with the personalities of girls fairly late in life, through my granddaughters. And I’m happily busy, meaning I’m not looking for more to do.

But I like Andy, and I respect her efforts at helping the community. And a little tzedakah b’guf seemed like a good idea – and it happened that Thursday mornings were free. I couldn’t talk myself out of it.

I am so glad I couldn’t. I’m having the time of my life!

The program doesn’t require the structure that scares people away from “teaching.” It’s more like mentoring. I volunteer for two sessions: I work with one 5^th grade girl who has very good English that just needs a bit of polishing; and I have a group of six 6^th grade girls who have very little English but lots of enthusiasm. My job is to get them to speak English with increasing confidence. No one is expecting me to make them fluent. I just have to help them to get rid of the fear of looking foolish, and to simply be willing to try.

Much like what I went through in ulpan. In fact, my Hebrew ulpan experience helps me to understand and to help these girls. I know exactly what they are feeling. They listen to my poor Hebrew as I try to explain difficult concepts; and they are receptive to my lesson that just as they don’t laugh at me, I won’t laugh at them. Week by week, they are gaining courage, and even some proficiency. (They are very proud of knowing when to add “s” to the end of a verb, and when not to, something that often stumps even adults.)

We have fun together playing word games, singing songs, playing “grocery store,” reading easy stories. For this exercise, I am permitted by the program either to use the book provided, or to come up with my own plan. I’m rather proud of this: I have taken an easy Hebrew children’s book and translated it to English for them. First, we read the Hebrew version. It is full of moral lessons, and the girls happily debate where they stand on the issues. Then, we painstakingly make our way through the English version. As I remind them that they already understand the story, they gain faith in themselves, and struggle on. Last week, I said that I look forward to when we can debate this story in English. Unexpectedly, my initially most reticent student led a discussion in very simple English, wherein each girl stated her case! I am so proud of my girls!

After our classes (which are currently 30 minutes and 50 minutes in length), we volunteers meet, each week, to share concerns and ideas. I have gained so much wisdom from these fellow volunteers. Very often, next week’s plan starts with something learned during this meeting. Best of all, the girls, the English program teachers, and especially Andy and Yael Ben-Pazi, the principal, are so supportive of our efforts.

I love this program. It is very rewarding to give back to a community that patiently helps me with my Hebrew. It feels good to be respected for something that is part of the definition of who I am: an English-language-proficient Anglo with a lot to give the next generation in Israel.

Glossary - tzedakah b'guf: charity through deeds rather than money; ulpan: intensive Hebrew language class

Repaint Your Own Reality

Yom shlishi, 24 Adar I 5776/1 March 2016.

"I never paint dreams or nightmares. I paint my own reality." ~ Frida Kahlo

I feel like a new bride, who just moved into her new apartment!

That's what a fresh paint job will do for your spirits.

We have loved this apartment for the last eight years. It has been our friend and haven. We have wonderful landlords, interesting and delightful neighbors, a loving and accepting rabbi and community. But while the landlords, friends, neighbors, rabbi and community are still fresh and exciting, the apartment walls were showing their age. I'm not going to show you before-and-after pictures, because it had gotten a bit embarrassing. This winter's mold had gotten ahead of my yearly efforts with economica. (You have to be healthy to wash a ceiling with bleach; and we feel like we've suffered the ten plagues this year, thanks to seven truly blessed months of our grandchildren living with us: colds, strep, flu, chicken pox -- you should never see a 21-year-old who's caught his tiny nephew's chicken pox -- bronchitis, a stomach bug, pneumonia...)

We called Moshe Aaron Swartz, our friend and neighbor and owner of Primary Painter Moshe, for an estimate. He came by with his stack of paint color cards, looked over our apartment, and gave his recommendations. He knew we would want easy-to-wash paint here, mold-retardant paint there... It was obvious from the beginning that Moshe cares very much about doing a great job, and about making sure that his clients' individual needs are satisfied. When we were finished with the plan, the Dearly Beloved and I were excited about the color choices, ideas, and even the price, which seemed very reasonable.

New paint. Fresh, new beginnings. Color-crayon marks surrounded by chocolate finger prints, teenager shmutz haloing bathroom light switches, the pencil growth chart on the kitchen wall -- all obscured by "What an Inspiration" turquoise and "Perfume Powder" soft yellow Meshi ("easy to clean") paint. Eight years of history, embalmed but not forgotten.

Eli Tryfus, Moshe Aaron Swartz, Yedidya Fisch, after a job well done.

Moshe assured us that we wouldn't need to move anything ourselves, save for computers, and that the entire operation could be completed in one day. We were a bit skeptical, because the Eastmans have collected a lot of stuff over the years. And yes, like most semi-neurotic housewives, I made sure that a lot of life's detritus was out of the way before the agreed-upon hour.

Moshe showed up with his two young Jewish assistants. (Much to our comfort, Moshe only hires Jewish workers.) These fine young men are trained in the art of wall and ceiling painting by Shmuel of Just Now Painters. I got a chance to speak with our two young painters. Yedidya Fisch will be drafting into Golani in March 2016, and has been working with Moshe since last summer. Eli Tryfus is the cousin of one of our Judean Rebels football players. He is studying in Tel Aviv in the field of computer networking. Eli had been working with Moshe's father for something less that three years, and started working with Moshe last July. Both men enjoy the work, and it showed. They were careful, polite, and very gracious about accommodating the customer when at one point I confused them about which paint went on which wall.

Moshe and his delightful bride Chani have lived in Neve Daniel since August of 2012. Their son
Eitan was born in January of this year. Moshe learned his art at his father's side. He worked for many years with his father before going out on his own, and still consults with his father on various jobs, painting techniques and paint types.

As the trio worked, Moshe explained the process. Certain paint types were employed for their mold-inhibiting properties. A couple of spaces were painted with a metal-flake undercoating, invisible to the eye, but a magical wonderland for grandchildren who can now stick magnets directly to walls.

Moshe enjoyed smearing barbecue sauce on one nice, clean, dry, wall and rubbing it in, to show how easily the Meshi cleans up with a little dish soap and water, and no scrubbing, and no loss of paint.

We were very pleased and impressed that the team cleaned up after the job so well, sweeping the floor and wiping up messes, and making sure that I was satisfied with the result.


Moshe stopped by with paint and brush a day later to check on the work, and to touch up a few spots.

"So, how do I clean up any little drops of paint I find?" I asked. They'd done an excellent job of cleaning up, but my practiced mommy eye had seen a speck of blue on the hall floor.

"Just use Scotch and a little dish soap," Moshe said.

I looked at him with a wild surmise. He'd mentioned dish soap several times -- but scotch? My! These South Africans are extravagantly elegant people!

He read my expression. "Not scotch," he said.

Ah. I seem to remember a scrubbing pad with the brand name "Scotch." Apparently, these South Africans use "Scotch" like we Americans use "Kleenex." Like I said. Extravagant.

When you are tired of your walls and want brand-new, fresh and elegant surroundings, call Moshe at 0545320024 for an estimate.

All for the Gush Katif Brides: Elul Ushered in by Rabbanit Yemima Mizrahi

Yom sheni, 9 Elul 5775.

Rabbanit Yemima Mizrahi, photo from her Facebook page

I have listened to and read Rabbanit Yemima Mizrahi for many years, but last night at the Great Synagogue was my first opportunity to see and hear her in person. The occasion: to raise money for the still-struggling but happily still marrying brides of the former communities of Gush Katif.

The event was a veritable Who's Who of fascinating, inspiring, hard-working women, all gathered together to raise funds for Gush Katif brides. Let me drop just a few names: Anita Tucker, outspoken spokeswoman for the destroyed communities of Gush Katif. Sharon Katz, founder of the Raise Your Spirits acting troupe and producer of the Dames of the Dance collection of amazing dancers (and many more holy projects than I have time now to post!). Fayge Bedell, whom I only know as Sharon's comedic foil onstage for the aforementioned fund-raising projects. Rivkah Lambert Adler, fellow blogger, founder of the twice-yearly Book Swap in Ma'ale Adummim, and one of the driving forces back in the day behind Baltimore aliya to Israel. And many more amazing ladies, many of whose work on behalf of others is only done in secret...

You simply must watch her in action to see Torah as beauty.

To watch Rabbanit Yemima Mizrahi speaking is to witness a human being making herself into a living shofar. She uses the techniques of the singer, the dancer, the stand-up comic, the mime, the painter, her body and arms and hands the brushes to color our hearts and minds with prayer, to educate us with her prodigious Torah knowledge with humor and sensitivity. Rabbanit Yemima embodies for me David HaMelech's remark: "I am prayer."

My foremost thought when I listen to Rabbanit Yemima is how much she makes me care, makes me empathize with the plight of my sisters: those struggling to find a parnassa; those who have not yet found a life partner; those who want children but have not yet or cannot have them; those who have both, but live in the special hell of broken dreams. I have yet to hear or read anything by this special teacher without being reminded of them -- not due to some heavy-handed lecture on her part; rather, due to the heart-plucking way her voice speaks to them, reassures them, pleads with God on their behalf. How can the heart not cry out with her for them? And in humble gratitude, if we are in the position to only empathize, rather than sympathize. Thank you, dear God, for what you have given me. Let me never, ever take it for granted. Let me not turn my blessings into complaints. How dare I, when my sister or brother is not so blessed?

The talk was focused, of course, on preparing ourselves this Elul for a meaningful Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. Can we drop our hurt feelings over some real-or-imagined slight? Can we stop saying "לא" (no) and replace it with "לו" (for him [or her, or Him, or anyone else besides ourselves])? Note that these two words together spell "אלול" -- the holy combination of letters for the month of Elul. Can we practice the many voices of prayer -- the shhhhhhhh, of silent, introspective, shutting-down-our-anger prayer; the kretz of a sigh that sends "to death" all of the negative things we want to empty from ourselves; the power of making our entire bodies into shofrot (ram's horns) to blast our prayers to the heavens...

Rabbanit Yemima told many stories, as she always does. One especially resonated for me. And of course, it made me cry.

The story was an illustration of the concept of "I'm sorry." With her trademark humor, Rabbanit Yemima reminded us that we Ashkenazim don't really get slichot, the penitential prayers said before and on the High Holy Days. Ashkenazim recite the slichot with varying intensity between ten days and a week prior to Rosh Hashana, before the morning prayers. That means getting up a bit earlier, and I don't envy my husband and sons this task. The Sephardim (I'm sure with the same struggles toward intensity) are asked by their tradition to get up to say these special prayers at midnight for a full month before Rosh Hashana. (This is the only thing on the "con" side of The Dearly Beloved's pro/con scale for why he does not want to switch to the Sephardi way of life.) Finally, the story, with another traditional (and heart-rending) Rabbanit Yemima device: she tells the story on herself.

I won't try to quote her full, beautiful telling of the tale. One of her special talmidot (students) was dying "of the terrible disease," and asked her to please visit. But -- to quote her painful words, spoken airily, but with excruciating pathos: "I am very important, and I am very busy..." It took the rabbanit a very long time to make the time -- but finally she did. The talmida said to her, "You didn't come for me. You came for you." And Yemima shares with us that she understood that she was only coming to the talmida finally, finally, so she could say that she checked the mitzva off her list, she had "visited the sick." And she could think well of herself... Oy! I choke now as I type the words! Which of us has not felt this? That we waited too long to do that special mitzva, but "knocked it out" finally so we could make a check-mark on our "Good Jew" list... The story ends with the sweetness that the girl became her special mitzva until she was sure that she was forgiven. In the phrase chozer b'teshuva -- one who returns to the practice of mitzvot -- the word "return" is the key. We can't just do it once. We can't just say "I love you" once, and have a marriage work. We can't just say "I'm sorry" once, and expect to be taken seriously.

There were more stories, more lessons, more patented RYM jokes. As this lecture was videotaped, I hope I can share it with you at some future date.

And when you are looking for that special mitzva, that special tzedaka, for the days of the holy month of Elul (or anytime!), consider learning with the ladies of L'ayla, under the auspices of the OU Center in Jerusalem and led by the extraordinary Rivki Segal (formerly of Baltimore, of course). And if Gush Katif still hurts your heart as it does mine, even a decade later, consider helping the children of the expellees as they marry and try to build batei ne'eman biYisrael -- donate directly or sponsor wedding gifts or sponsor community shabbat kalla events in your own homes.

Click on the photo of the document below to embiggen it, and to get the information you need.

Check out how you can help the Gush Katif Bridal Registry.

You can make a difference in the lives of people still suffering a decade after the worst crime a Jewish government perpetrated against its own citizens. And contact the devoted ladies below if you would like to sponsor a bridal shower in your community.

Lisa Goldenhersh - (050) 575-5436 or (773) 409-4091
Riki Freudenstein - (054) 432-0938 or (718) 874-2035

You can do this in any country in the world, or in any community in Israel! But if you're planning a party in Neve Daniel, check first with brand-new olot (immigrants) Shayna Levine-Hefetz and Eva Lynn Goldstein-Meola, who are planning a bridal shower here, as one of their many early Israel-based mitzvot. #OlimFromBaltimore

Let's pool the spiritual power of Jewish women to make this the last year without the Holy Temple. Oh -- and if you are not Jewish, nor a woman, but you want to help, you can also add to the wonder and beauty of the world and of this project. But you knew that... In the merit of this mitzva, may anyone you know and love who needs to find a match, who is praying for a child, whose life is far from blessed, hear good news.

A Special Birthday Party

Yom shishi, 5 Iyar 5775.

I just don't remember this kind of enthusiasm for the significance of the Fourth of July! Perhaps that is because we Americans are generations-removed from gaining our freedom as a nation. Perhaps it is because Memorial Day is a couple of months before Independence Day, so the meaning of the one is not tied so intimately to the meaning of the other.

It cannot be denied that having Yom HaZikaron blending into Yom HaAtzma'ut has a special power: these sacrificed their lives, these precious lives were stolen too young... and we have this country, fought for and fiercely defended, on the soil given to our people thousands of years ago by God. We feel the anguish of the loss of 23,320 members of our family. And immediately after that, we feel the fierce triumph and joy in holding and building this Jewish country.

What I love here in Israel in general, and in Neve Daniel in particular, is that adults and children, Bnei Akiva students and little kids, soldiers and civilians -- whether native-born or immigrant -- seem to be caught up in the drama and joy of the day. Yes, there will be barbecues and other celebratory gestures. But there is also a lot of work that goes into the patriotic ceremonies that cannot help but bring tears of pride.

Little stars, performing for their loved ones.

Every parental heart danced right along with the little ones.

I can imagine how beautiful this was supposed to be: Adam singing a lovely song with his strong voice, doves released to fly free overhead... Unfortunately, in the unseasonable cold, the poor birds really wanted to stay in their warm huddle in their crates. Ah, well. Man plans, and God laughs.

The Bnei Akiva "daglanut." For more information about this beautiful tradition, see my friend Romi's post here: http://aineretzacheret.blogspot.co.il/2011/05/magic-of-daglanut.html In addition to the well-choreographed moves, let's not overlook that these tough (and slightly crazy) kids were in tee shirts, while many of the rest of us were in winter coats!

The Dearly Beloved awaiting the start of the ceremony. As usual, he is trying to disappear discreetly into the crowd. But it's very, very cold -- so he had to wear a hoodie under his usual holiday attire.

May she long wave free and proud.

Even in the cold, fireworks warm the soul!

"You're grown, but still a little kid inside, right?" My Hebrew must have been "good enough," because I got a very sweet smile from this soldier, followed by "B'vadai!" -- "Of course!" Only in Neve Daniel, with strong "winter" winds blowing, would the young people still make cotton candy and popcorn.

Thank you to Amit and Tamar and Hadas and all of the other people who worked so hard to make this ceremony such a beautiful event!

Happy 67th birthday, Israel! L'tiferet Medinat Yisrael!

Potatoes in bread is as funny as it sounds.

Yom rishon, 5 Shevat 5775.

A pleasant and informed voice from the West breezed through Neve Daniel last night.

Herb Keinon hasn't lived in Denver for at least 30 years, and has made Maale Adummim in Israel his home. But when someone interjects certain kinds of expressions into his talk, I feel very nostalgic for my upbringing in the western United States.

"When someone comes up to me and says 'Can I ask you a question?', I know I'm in for a shellacking." He says it with that slightly sheepish behind-the-woodshed look that suggests he came from a time and part of the US where such an expression was common. Made me feel right at home, as did his total approach of easy-going, self-effacing humor, surrounding confidence in his knowledge of his subjects.

I've been reading Herb Keinon's political posts and life commentaries in the Jerusalem Post since our Baltimore rabbi, Rabbi Menachem Goldberger, first told us about him. Apparently, the two go back to childhood. In fact, It was Rabbi Goldberger the elder, zt"l, who gave Herb his Hebrew name of Chizkiyahu, which he never got used to using, even in Israel. "I tried going by 'Chezky' for a while, but the Israelis thought that meant my name was 'Yechezkiel.' I should have just gone by 'Yahoo.' That was back in the days before Google..." His voice trails off in our laughter.

Keinon's stories are a pleasure to read. With the style and skill he has honed after years of writing professionally, he writes about his family with humor and tenderness, but never with meanness. He spoke about why he calls his wife "The Wife" unashamedly, despite frequent shellackings from well-meaning street corner critics who assume he hasn't checked with The Wife to see if it would bother her. (This resonated with me, as I am often asked if my sons and daughters-in-law are bothered by their nicknames in my blog, and about what I write about them. It's hard not to respond with a little gentle sarcasm. "Oh, wow! Maybe I should ask them! Thank you for the tip!")

Another favorite topic in Keinon's writing is the evolution of the oleh (new immigrant) in Israel. Many of us were nodding our heads in recognition as he spoke about the attitudes with which we arrive in Israel -- our impressions of the Israelis as loud and rude and a little stupid ("Why do they leave the windows open in the winter???") -- and how we "grow up" and realize that these Israelis are the way they are for a reason, and they really aren't that dumb. ("Ohhhhhh! If you leave the windows open a little each day in the winter, you reduce the retivut, the mold, on the walls!")

Keinon spoke at some length about what a fretful people we Jews are, especially here in Israel. If there is something going on at a border, we're sure it's war. We're constantly fearing earthquakes, disease, price explosions or catastrophic drops... "If there's a silver lining, we'll look for the cloud." It was easy to laugh with him at ourselves.

After speaking a little about politics and a lot about the aliyah experience -- the main subject of his delightful new book French Fries in Pita -- Keinon shared a few impressions of some of the leaders he covered over his fifteen years on the diplomacy beat. He was surprised that the most generous interviewee was Ariel Sharon, a"h, who gave him a very long interview just after the death of Sharon's wife Lily, a"h. Sharon surprised Keinon by asking about his life. But Binyamin Netanyahu is "all business," apart from one joke about his name. When Keinon arrived for the interview, Netanyahu said, "Come in, Herbal Tea." Keinon thought for a moment, and returned, "With all due respect, Mr. Prime Minister, they call you 'Bibi,' and you're making fun of my name?" I can't remember if he said that he actually said those words, or only thought them. It would have been a great response.

During the Q & A, participants had lots of ideas about how to improve the government. In his answers, Keinon proved his point about the need to be in Israel long enough to understand the subtleties of how the political system works, even when it doesn't, and why overlays from other countries' systems simply cannot work in this very odd little country. I'm not sure all of the participants were convinced -- well, that wouldn't be Jewish, would it? -- but my sense was that his main point is very well taken. Israel is not like any other country in the world; and no other political system would be able to take all of the citizens and ideologies into account. But I suspect we'll be debating this for a long time -- at least as long as Israel keeps going to elections every two years, and as long as there are olim with opinions.

Another point brought up by a member of the audience was that hasbara -- the Israeli word for PR -- doesn't seem to be working out there in the larger world. Keinon pointed out that we are getting the message across to the United States and Canada because the people there whose support we need are more receptive than they are in other countries. Europe simply isn't interested in hearing what we have to say, at this point. While there are individuals in Europe who are very pro-Israel, the majority of the continent is currently only interested in accepting the Palestinian narrative. Dabbling in the field of hasbara myself, I am in total agreement with this point.

If you haven't been reading Herb Keinon's posts in the Jerusalem Post, give yourself a treat and start reading them. "There is no such thing as objectivity in journalism; but I try to be fair." Indeed. He is as fair as one can be (in my opinion). And entertaining, concise, and very readable.

French Fries in Pita is available at Amazon (in a Kindle edition), and at Book Depository (which delivers free to Israel) and in M. Pomeranz Bookseller, my personal favorite, because it's in Jerusalem and is my favorite book store on the planet.

Thank you to Chaim and Ruth Sherman for hosting this enjoyable talk! "What's said in Neve Daniel stays in Neve Daniel." Okay... maybe not so much. We are Har HaBloggerim, after all!

Snow Survival, Snow Heroes

Yom rishon, 12 Tevet 5774.

If you live in Baltimore, New York, Idaho, Washington State... this is a typical winter day. But if you live in Israel, this is a once-in-several-years occurrence.

People have been without power for days, at least intermittently. Cars are buried in snow. Schools are closed. The roads have been virtually impassable for the better part of the last few days.

Families are spending quality time together. Kids are thrilled, or are showing signs of cabin fever. I've even seen a soldier or two giving a hearty fist-pump at being stranded on the mountain. We had a special birthday Shabbat planned for the Dearly Beloved. That, as readers of this blog may remember, does not mean birthday cake. The Friday night menu included a cheesy lasagna, fluffy, home-baked challah, and cinnamon rolls. But with no electricity on Friday, the plans changed to a complete stove-top menu (so I could get by on gas): a hearty chicken soup with lots of vegetables, cauliflower rice, baby peas, barely warmed, and paratha, an Indian pan-fried bread. The pot roast which is usually prepared in a crock pot was instead prepared on the stove top as well; and everything was kept warm on an old-fashioned copper blech.

Stunt Man had planned to spend Shabbat in Jerusalem with Molly McMolly's family. Of course, that was illogical, impossible, etc., etc.

So he walked down to the highway to see if he could possibly catch a tremp. A security vehicle came along, and the driver -- after questioning his sanity -- gave him a lift. They traveled down a completely vehicle-free highway, stopping along the way to assist stranded drivers. "There were abandoned cars all over the place. I felt like we were traveling through some surreal post-zombie-apocalypse scene," was how he described his adventure. The driver dropped him off two minutes from his destination.

I don't raise normal people. I raise heroes. Or crazy people. Or both.

Building a snowman under the trees

The Dearly Beloved, going after provisions

Getting ready for some serious sledding

We have a very special community here in Neve Daniel. People have helped each other, by digging out paths from door to street. People have shopped for those for whom getting out is a hardship. After pulling his stint as the shliach tzibur for a local shul, Yoram went to open the makolet... and was joined by store owner Moshe Torjman. Moshe left his cozy home in Gilo on foot (on his birthday), planning to walk to the makolet if he couldn't get a ride. A policeman gave him a ride to the bottom of Neve Daniel's formidable hill, where he walked up to open the store.

Kol hakavod, Yoram!

Happy birthday, Moshe; and happy day after your birthday, Coach!

Moshe fired up the oven, so people could have nice, warm pita bread.

Eli, friend and fellow shopper, duded-up for the weather

Nobody who doesn't own a helicopter is surprised that the makolet doesn't have fresh milk.

But as a public service announcement, I'll offer some alternatives, to get folks by until the milk truck can make it up the hill.

The makolet has shelf milk, soy and rice, in various flavors.

There's fresh soy milk...

...and shoko, strawberry-flavored and mocha-flavored milk...

...and yogurts of various styles and flavors...

...and if all else fails, there are chemicals.

If I still had young kids at home, I'd probably melt their favorite ice cream, and say, "Hey, boys! Guess what? When we have a snow day, even the milk is special!"

Everyone has his priorities. People with small children came to the makolet, hoping to make a milk run. Without young children at home, we made a B - double E - double R - U - N, as the country song goes.

Finally! A home we may be able to afford on the yishuv. As soon as we find out who is the builder, we plan to make a bid. Hopefully before the house turns to liquid assets...

And before a rival buyer makes his bid.

Stay warm. Enjoy each other. Let your neighbors know if you need help. One thing about snowy weather in Israel: in a few days, it will be a memory for a few years.

This jacket, like its wearer, is now officially an antique. Both of us are pretty hearty in cold weather, b"H!

A few snow-survival tips from a former Washington State gal:

1. Do not follow my son's example. Follow the rules, and don't travel when you're not supposed to.
2. Stay off your roof. (Sad story in the news, about a guy who fell off while trying to fix a leak that could have waited.)
3. Walk on snow when you can, rather than ice.
4. When you have no choice, bend your knees a bit, and walk duck-toed (as opposed to straight-toed or pigeon-toed).
5. When going down steps, use the hand rail or a wall, if available, and put your weight on your heels. Falling on your face or tailbone is zero fun.
6. Think out of the box, and try to have fun. Attitude is nearly everything.
7. Get out of wet clothes as soon as possible.
8. Have as much fun as you can!

Glossary:
Blech: Flat metal pan used to cover stove burners on Shabbat, to warm food without direct contact with the flame
Tremp: ride, hitch (as in hitch-hiking)
Shliach tzibur - cantor and leader of prayer
Shul - synagogue
Makolet - corner grocery store (although we are calling ours this affectionately and out of habit these days, as Moshe has made it into a supermarket!)
Yishuv - community, sometimes called a settlement (sometimes disparagingly -- but we ignore those people)