Sukkot

It was sad when the holiday ended. I didn't really go anywhere for the holidays. Unlike tens of thousands of Israelis who fly overseas, I prefer to spend the main holidays in Israel - because that's where you feel the holiday. Overseas...it's just another plain day. And I also didn't go anywhere because for the first time, Hubby was able to buy and build a large sukkah, long enough to fit around 20 people uncomfortably and 14 people comfortably. We had been going without a sukkah for two years and it didn't feel right. It didn't feel like Sukkot.

On Friday, I had my daughter's in-laws all over. The shy single Elvis fan brother-in-law didn't want his photo taken and I was trying to get a good shot of him for his JDate profile. He'd love to find a nice all-American girl - she must love Elvis of course. I finally did manage to get a nice shot of him - but only to be shown on JDate. This time my daughter's mother-in-law gave me a beautiful poinsetta plant and a deep frying pan. Finally, something useful, instead of the ugly microwave we got on Passover that looked like a washing machine, which we traded in for another, more sleek looking, model.

On Sunday I invited eight Evangelical Lutherans to my home for dinner. I thought they were German girls so I bought TWO cases of beer. I didn't want to seem like the cheap Jew. But they were all young American girls and only half a case went. We still have a case and a half sitting in the fridge. Oh well. Better to miscalculate on the generous side. Hubby was even around to give them a demonstration of shaking the lulav and etrog and I read the blessing in English and explained to them the story behind succot, which I can't even remember myself any more.. I'm sure they must have thought that shaking the lulav and etrog was quite the strange ritual so I mentioned that Jesus definitely did the very same thing.


On Monday and Tuesday I babysat the grandkid who is so much more different in the daytime than he is when I normally watch him in the cranky evenings. I got so used to the little bugger and enjoyed my 7 hours a day with him, until his mom came to pick him up.


On Wednesday, Jerusalem's macrobiotic community "invaded" my house - some 30 people. My neighbors must have thought I was nuts. This event lasted nearly 12 hours. I was like the maintenance person - replacing wet towels, toilet paper, tableclothes, aprons and whatever else was needed. These people are really eco-conscious and brought their own real plates and cups so I didn't need to cook or wash up the entire day - which was quite a joy. I did shiatsu and tai chi and listened as much as I could to the different lectures until I lost my energy sometime after dinner... My kids stayed in their rooms all day and Hubby stayed away until everyone left. They'll have none of that healthy food/lifestyle, thank you.


Saturday, Hubby and I decided to take advantage of our rented car and went countryside to have brunch out in Hans Sternbach's winery in Moshav Ganei Yeshayahu -out in the sticks somewhere near Beit Shemesh. On the way, he tried to take a short cut and sees a young pretty thing walking on the side of the road. He asks for directions. She tells him he has to go back...there is no shortcut around here. He tells her "have a nice....ass", but luckily I don't think she heard him.


We finally found the restaurant and were so happy. We really needed some respite from all the guests during the week and wanted some quiet moments. We looked at the shaded patio, the tables set beneath grape vines and sat down. The waitress comes over and tells us the cook hasn't arrived yet because the roads are blocked due to a bicycle race. We sit and wait. While we wait, we hear screaming coming from the house. The restaurant also happens to be the owner's residence. His kid is yelling at him. We hear doors slam. We laugh because it looks like we're not gonna get any quiet today either. We also laugh because we're glad other kids do the same to their parents as our kids. The waitress is embarrassed and comes over to apologize. By this time, we're just laughing and tell her it's ok. "At least they're not telling their father to fuck off, like my kids do." The waitress laughs with us.

The cook finally comes, and so does the food which was worth the wait - 8 different kinds of salads - lentils with caraway, eggplant, beets, humous, matbucha, cheese platter with caraway cream cheese, ricotta, labanae, olives, a fish platter of smoked mackerel, salmon and herring and omelettes. We get a tour of the winery and a taste of 4 custom wines. We sit next to diplomats from Denmark who arrived in a Jaguar and we feel rich.