Lavan, Yaakov, Leah or Rachel
My daughter and her friend worked very hard on this diorama for her school’s Torah Fair. It’s sort of like a science fair, explained my husband, except the subject matter was all from the book of Breishit. My daughter’s project depicted the wedding of Yaakov and Leah. Or was it Yaakov and Rachel? In any case, for those of you who don’t know the story, Yaakov first had to work seven years to marry Leah. He thought he was marrying Rachel, but Lavan, Leah and Rachel’s father, tricked him into marrying Leah. After seven more years, he got to marry Rachel. Poor Leah – I once did a painting of Leah crying.
In other news, my eldest son graduated from high school, which emotionally is charged for me – how could my first baby be a high school graduate? We discussed in the car on the way home what is the meaning of “real life” – does being a high school graduate mean one has entered the real world? According to my niece who just finished her first year of college, college is not real life.
The school art assignment was to draw oneself as an older person. This was my daughter’s execution, which she proudly displayed at her school art show last night.
As for myself, I’m trying once again to take a breath by blogging. I admire Robin’s style, in which she both displays nuns in tan and discusses her plumbing traumas. My events of the week involved two down servers, both effecting sites that I work on, both now back up and running again. Is it the season to upgrade PHP perhaps? In one case I called the help desk; the line declared a fifteen minute wait. I hung up, then called back a few minutes later, thinking, I can wait fifteen minutes to find out what the problem is. The line then declared a one hour wait. I waited until the next day, until it was fixed. But then the other server went down, and that one I had to report about ten times before they fixed all the issues. Such as is the life of a webmaster (webmaven?).
In my front yard many pink Mexican poppies are in bloom. My husband remembers the days when he had to mow the front lawn – no more.
There is also purple salvia growing behind the pink Mexican poppies.
The tall green plants behind the Mexican poppies in this shot are lambs’ ear. I originally planted a few that I transported from my mother’s garden in Newton, MA. That was in 1998, so these have been reproducing for over ten years. I’ll probably pull most of them out soon and replace them with summer plants, maybe cucumber plants that I grow among the flowers.
These flowering chives are growing in a pot in my backyard, but since they are in a pot, I could easily transfer them to the front.
When I originally conceived of the idea for this post, my intention was to write about the short story Cold Spring by Aaron Appelfeld. In fact, I took out The Oxford Book of Hebrew Short Stories (edited by Glenda Abramson) from the library because the book contained a story I had read in high school (mind you, this was in the 1970’s) called “Cold Spring.” We had read it in the original Hebrew, and at the time the style of writing must have made at least a bit of an impression on me. “Cold Spring” takes place directly after World War II has ended. In Appelfeld’s typical style, the story does not talk directly about the Holocaust. It merely alludes to the tragedy the characters have left behind. Appelfeld paints a picture for the reader, but like a realist who only accentuates certain details, we must guess what the full story might be.
However, as I read through the other short stories, I decided I couldn’t write a post without mentioning some of those that had an effect on me. Several authors were women that I had never heard of. I noted that the book is called Hebrew Short Stories as opposed to Israeli Short Stories – some were written well before the founding of the modern State of Israel.
One of the stories that made me change my mind and write about more than one short story was “Sunbeams” by Dvora Baron. I told the synopsis of the story to my daughter and her friend: a young orphan in an Eastern European village is handed from household to household, grows up this way and learns not to depend for affection on any one human, is finally happy when working in a bakery, gets married (not so happy a marriage), her husband dies, she goes back to her shed and bakery. Then she dies. My daughter and her friend declare: that is *SO* depressing, how could you like such a story. I really enjoyed this well-told story. There’s a cow that’s a central player (I think the main character’s affection goes to this cow). The main character learned to be content, even if her life was difficult.
Want to know what *I* thought was depressing? “Cut Off” by Yitzhak Dov Berkowitz is a tale of an elderly woman who travels to New York to be with her only living son – her other children died in childhood and her husband more recently. She discovers her son has changed his name from Rabinowitz to Robbins, and all he seems to care about is showing her how much money he has made and how American her family is. She hands her grandsons prayer books she brought with her from Europe. They clearly have no idea what to do with them. The older one puts his back, while the younger son at least wraps his in yellow paper to protect it. At least he wants to show his grandmother some appreciation.
The last two stories in the book, “Morning in the Park with Nannies” by Savyon Liebrecht and “Dora’s Secret” by Ruth Almog both have Holocaust themes. Both stories have unique methods of using post-Holocaust, modern life settings (a park with nannies and a home in St. Cloud, France) to relay Holocaust tragedies. I own a copy of Savyon Liebrecht’s book It’s All Greek to Me in Hebrew that I bought in 1991. Maybe I should try reading it again.
The book has a wonderful introduction to the history of modern Hebrew literature. All of the modern Hebrew authors I know are included in the volume with the exception of the masterful S.Y. Agnon (the noble prize winner in literature), as they could not get permission to print the short story of his they wanted. If you do read any of the stories in this collection, I would be curious to hear which made an impact on you.
White Columbine with bits of Purple Salvia
It’s been a while since I’ve posted, so I decided to just write up a review. And show off my white columbines with fuzzy purple dots that are really geranium sanguineum (cranesbill) in the background. I assume a deer ate the tops of some of my columbines; I don’t think the ground hogs can reach up that high.
I’ve been very busy with work and with a few (thankfully minor) family crises (an infected finger by one child, a tummy virus right before a big talk by another, a fall with only bruises by an older family member). Hope life goes smoothly in the future, (but it never does, does it?).
Creamy Yellow Soup with Curry, Celery and Beans
This soup needs a name. It didn’t originally have curried spices. I got it from a macrobiotic newsletter. It didn’t have amounts, so I’m not sure I can call the source a real recipe. And the main ingredient in the original was broccoli, which I didn’t have and I didn’t feel like going back to the store to get, and I felt broccoli was too rough for the creamy texture that I wanted. Surprisingly, it has no onion. I think every other soup I make seems to start with an onion.
Ingredients
1 cup white northern beans, soaked overnight and then cooked with kombu
2 pieces of kombu
1 tsp. thyme (I used fresh from my garden)
1 small sweet potato
3 sticks of celery
1 garlic clove
olive oil to saute the celery
1 heaping tsp. turmeric
1 heaping tsp. cumin
1 Tbsp. white miso
sea salt and pepper to taste
Soak the white beans overnight and cook with two pieces (about one inch) of kombu. Saute chopped celery and chopped garlic in olive oil or coconut oil. Cook the sweet potato; discard sweet potato skin. Puree the celery, garlic, thyme, sweet potato, beans and kombu in the food processor. Add the turmeric, cumin, salt and pepper. Reheat the pureed soup on the stove. Stir in a spoonful of miso just before serving.
Garnish with scallion or whatever fresh herb you have available. In the photo are some leaves of fresh oregano from my backyard.
Have any leftover matza? See any matza for sale and wonder what one might do with it? Here’s an easy dessert I made with my daughter during Passover.
Ingredients:
1 bag chocolate chips
1 sheet of matza, broken into pieces
1/2 cup of your favorite nuts (walnuts, almonds or pecans) broken into pieces
Paper plates, a large spoon and wax paper
If you want, you can soak the nuts for a few hours to make them more chewable. Melt the chocolate chips in a saucepan. Add broken matza and nuts and mix with the chocolate. Put a sheet of wax paper on a paper plate (the flat white kind that one puts in the microwave work best). Put a spoonful of the chocolate mixture unto the wax paper. Repeat until you have filled the wax paper (you can probably fit about 5 or 6 of these on a paper plate). Repeat on another paper plate (our mixture made two platefuls). Place flat in the freezer. Serve straight from the freezer.
My neighbor’s dogwood tree is once again flowering. My dogwood photos from 2008 are one of the most popular posts on this blog.
Dogwood blossoms are a pleasure, but one needs to be fast with the camera or the dogwood blossom season will be done.
One downside of the abundant blossoms in our area is my stuffed nose. Any of you allergy sufferers? A friend of my daughter’s hates spring because of allergies. Sigh.
Before Pesach we have a custom of burning chametz (bread, crackers, cereal, pasta, anything made of five grains: wheat, barley, rye, oats and spelt). When I was a kid, I remember burning chametz in our backyard. Now there are laws about creating fires, so observant Jews get special permission to burn chametz. This burning took place in Edison, New Jersey.
A tradition we have in our family (and others do as well) is to burn the lulav, the palm branch left over from Sukkot, the fall holiday in which we sit in a booth outside for a week.
In this photo you can see both lulavim (plural of lulav) and real bread. It got quite smokey – my husband doesn’t remember it being so smokey in the past. Maybe this is because the regular Edison staff were on vacation for Good Friday and a nice person was left in charge who didn’t quite manage the smoke? I don’t know, but I left there sniffing my clothes, wondering if I smelt like someone who had walked into a smokey bar.
I had enough time to attend biur chametz (burning of the chametz) this year because I managed to get all the cooking I had planned the day before and early in the morning. One of the most popular dishes among my sister-in-law’s family that I made was mushroom paté; personally, my favorite was the marinated beets with ginger and garlic. Planning to make both of those again tomorrow.
