The Top 10 Signs You’re Living in the Corona Era

The Top 10 Signs You’re Living in the Corona Era

10) You notice that the Ministry of Unwritten Regulations has apparently decreed that every ad – whether in print (in one of the very few publications that are still being distributed) or online - must contain either a picture of a mask or an illustration of a coronavirus. Bonus points if the virus resembles a cuddly cartoon character.

9) Another day, another 17 “davening at home” jokes.

8) Shabbat feels like you’re in a Jane Austen novel. Everyone is dressed up in elegant clothes; there is nowhere to go; you meet the exact same people at every meal; and after dinner, you retire to the modern day equivalent of the drawing room, where you all sit around and talk and read. And if you get really bored, you can always take a turn about the room…

7) “Where/how are you doing your Pesach grocery shopping?” is the new “where will you be/who is coming to you for the Seder this year?”

6) Even your two-year-old grandchildren have been using Zoom to get together with the other kids from their ma'on (daycare center).

5) You’ve lost track of how many times someone has quoted all or at least part of the pasuk:

לֵךְ עַמִּי בֹּא בַחֲדָרֶיךָ וּסְגֹר דלתיך בַּעֲדֶךָ חֲבִי כִמְעַט רֶגַע עַד יעבור זָעַם
(“Go, My nation, come into your chambers and close your door behind you; hide for a brief moment, until the wrath shall pass.” --Yishaya 26:20)

4) Over the past week alone, you’ve attended a bat mitzvah, a hanachat tefilin, a baby naming, and several weddings, and not one of the other guests noticed or cared that you were wearing pajamas and slippers the entire time.

3) You have trouble remembering that only 3-4 weeks ago(!!), you had never even heard of terms like social distancing and flattening the curve.

2) You go outside to your backyard for a breath of fresh air, and your next door neighbor greets you from HER yard. As the two of you stand there catching up, separated by a wall and significantly more than two meters of space, you get to pretend that you’re Tim “The Tool Man” Taylor from “Home Improvement” chatting with Wilson over the fence. 

1) After shamelessly neglecting your blog for years and years, you’re suddenly inspired to sit down and write a post.

😊

Wishing you and your families only good health, and may we all soon be privileged to share besurot tovot, yeshu’ot v’nechamot (good tidings, salvation, and consolation).

National Parks: Castel Edition

Warning: The following post may exceed the recommended daily allowance for other people’s vacation pictures and videos. Proceed at your own risk.

And so, the succah is put away; the younger kids have gone back to school; and we’ve reached that elusive time of year known here in Israel as אחרי החגים (literally, “after the holidays”).

B”H we had a wonderful Succot. We spent time with family and friends and enjoyed various activities and outings – including, as promised, a repeat visit to the Circus Festival and, of course, the requisite trip to one of our beautiful country’s many national parks.

This time our destination was the Castel (aka Har Ma’oz (“Stronghold Mountain”) for the Hebraically-oriented amongst you).

Originally a Roman-era fortress known as Castellum, it was subsequently renovated by the Byzantines, who called it Castellum Belvoir and appreciated its proximity to similar fortresses in the area (such as Ein Chemed and others).

Soaring above and dominating Route 1 (the main highway leading up to Yerushalayim), the Castel was the site of a key battle during the War of Independence. Many brave men and women gave their lives during the heavy fighting.

At one point, the situation became so desperate that the Palmach company commander and his deputy famously ordered the privates to retreat – shielded by their commanders, who remained behind and continued fighting.

When the war finally ended, the newly-formed IDF dug a number of bunkers and communication trenches around the Castel, which overlooked what was then the Jordanian border.

And now, without further ado, the threatened promised pictures: (As always, please feel free to click on the pictures for a much better view.)

First, the traditional view of the price list… to show how much money we WOULD have saved, if we hadn’t allowed our National Parks membership to lapse:

Looking up at the fortress:

Inside one of the tunnels:

The view from the top:

And finally, a video showing a walk through one of the communication trenches:

חורף טוב, בריא וגשום!

Have a wonderful, healthy, and rainy winter!

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P.S. The latest HH blog carnival is available here. Special thanks to Batya for including my Reasons 3721 and 3722 for making aliyah.

Lag BaOmer in the fall

No, don’t worry, your calendar is correct. It really IS Elul – and not Iyar.

I mention this, because if you’re the parent of Israeli teens, you’d be forgiven for thinking that you blinked and somehow missed half a year.

After all, sometime in the past few weeks, your child probably stayed out all night on a school-sanctioned activity and then had a day off the following day, and it’s understandable if you mistakenly assumed that Lag BaOmer had come early this year.

And, so, I’m here to tell you – because your shaliach probably didn’t – that in many places, Elul boasts not one, but TWO official excuses for going without sleep:

1) Siyur Slichot

A siyur slichot (literally, a Slichot – i.e. penitential prayers - tour) is a nighttime trip during Elul to a religiously-significant location (such as Yerushalayim’s Old City or Tzfat), and typically involves a scenic walk (a Shiputzim son hiked this week from the top of Har HaZeitim to the Kotel, via Yad Avshalom and Sha’ar HaAshpot), an inspirational talk or two, and finally, reciting Slichot.

2) The Hashba’ah

The hashba’ah (literally, swearing in ceremony) is a sort of traditional initiation rite organized by the high school seniors (i.e. the shministim*, for the Hebraically-oriented amongst you) for the young freshmen (patronizingly-referred to as chamshushim*).

<Brief aside> I was under the impression that the hashba’ah is pretty much universal, but Hannah says that none of her kids’ schools have one. How about your children’s high schools? </aside>

But lest you’re picturing a cruel hazing ritual, I should explain that at least in the yeshiva high schools and ulpanot, the ra”mim/mechanchot are in attendance the entire time and ensure that the event remains strictly within the bounds of what the school feels is appropriate.

In fact, as the nervous ninth graders quickly discover, the much-hyped hashba’ah - which they were originally so scared about - proves to be little more than a surprise nighttime tiyul, and everyone gets a t-shirt at the end... :-)

As noted above, the day after the hashba’ah and the siyur slichot, the kids have a day off – even though the school year just started and all the Tishrei holidays are right around the corner.

And thus, both events fall firmly under the category of: “Things I Still Don’t Understand, Despite Having Made Aliyah 13 Years Ago”…

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* The terms shminist (literally, one belonging to the shminit – i.e. the eighth) and chamshush (a semi-derogatory way of saying “one belonging to the chamishit” – i.e. the fifth) are both vestigial throwbacks to the gymnasia system. The first form was the equivalent of today’s fifth grade, and the last – or eighth – form corresponded to today’s twelfth grade.

Yom Yerushalayim 5771

Someone took the following video while walking to the Kotel via Sha’ar HaAshpot:

That’s Yaakov Shwekey’s “Im Eshkachech Yerushalayim” playing in the background.

And if you missed them last year, be sure to check out my in-laws’ incredible pictures of the Kotel from 1967.

.ותחזינה עינינו בשובך לציון ברחמים

Happy Yom Yerushalayim!

Jane Austen would be so proud

By now I think we can all agree that I’d make a terrible gannenet.

I mean, my deplorable tendency to laugh at these dedicated caregivers clearly indicates that I lack the proper gravitas and solemnity required to succeed in this hallowed profession.

Yet as it turns out, my regrettable levity renders me unsuited for another job as well.

I’m speaking, of course, about a career as a gym teacher.

[This would be a perfect opportunity for me to write, “Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.” But since it’s only been five months since the last time I used this quote, I’ll have to manage without it... :-)]

You see, first, there was the whole being graded on one’s handstand thing.

And now there’s the following:

As part of the requirements for the physical fitness bagrut, the CTO’s gym teacher announced that the seniors would have to make up any gym classes they had missed.

Specifically, the teacher explained, he expected twelve minutes of nonstop walking for every missed lesson.

Note that we’re not talking about high-speed power walking. In fact, a gentle, slow-paced stroll or even a relaxed saunter was deemed to be more than sufficient.

Now, as it so happened, the CTO had somehow missed five gym lessons* this year and thus owed the gym teacher an hour of walking.

In practical terms, this meant that - under the gym teacher’s benevolent yet watchful eye - the CTO and some of his friends spent 24 minutes yesterday and an additional 36 minutes today taking leisurely turns about the perimeter of their yeshiva’s basketball court.

It was like a scene straight out of Pride and Prejudice – except that it took place outdoors rather than in an elegantly-appointed drawing room, and the amblers wore kippot and tzitzit in lieu of high-waisted Empire dresses…

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*I’m told that one of the CTO’s classmates missed 14 lessons this year and therefore had to walk for almost three hours! :-)