Book Review: “The Koren Magerman Youth Haggada”

While slowly adjusting to our new coronavirus-induced reality, and with nothing else to do and nowhere to go, many Israeli households are turning their attention to Pesach and its attendant preparations.

TRLEOOB (=The Real Life Equivalent of Our Blog), which way back in less unsettled times – i.e. two days ago! – was very much on its way to becoming an empty nest, but which, thanks to the latest batch of restrictions, is now once again the home base for a significant portion of the Shiputzim family, is certainly no exception.

But Pesach preparations aren’t limited to cleaning. They can also involve getting a new haggadah.

When I first received a review copy of “The Koren Magerman Youth Haggada,” my initial reaction was: THIS is exactly the haggadah that YZG and I had looked for over the years but had never managed to find!

Because while there are literally countless haggadot out there for adults, and plenty haggadot designed for younger kids, we always had trouble finding an appropriate haggadah for older tweens and teens.

We wanted a haggadah that was interesting and entertaining without being childish, simplistic, or condescending to the reader.

We weren’t looking for a “babysitter” that would distract the reader from the Seder itself but rather for a haggadah that would encourage the reader to engage with the text and also with the proceedings.

In short, we hoped to find a haggadah that would enhance the Seder experience for older kids, but unfortunately, as noted, such a haggadah didn’t seem to be readily available – until now.

Like other Koren releases, “The Koren Magerman Youth Haggada” is beautifully designed; includes an excellent, accessible translation; and is filled with wonderful, appropriate, and colorful illustrations.

The haggadah is obviously written with today’s kids in mind and is unapologetically Zionistic. In addition, every page contains questions for discussion, suggestions for experiential activities, and intriguing thoughts and stories.

Together, all of these features allow the reader to be an active participant at the Seder.

In conclusion, I highly recommend “The Koren Magerman Youth Haggada” and only wish that it was available several years ago!

May the coming days bring besurot tovot, yeshu’ot v’nechamot (good tidings, salvation, and consolation) for Am Yisrael, Eretz Yisrael, and Torat Yisrael.

Note: I was not paid to review this book, but I did receive a review copy from Koren Publishers.

Erev Rosh Hashanah 5776

.תהא שנת עליה וגאולה
May 5776 be a year of aliyah and redemption.

As you may recall, every year my mother prepares a very special family calendar. Here is a certain Shiputzim daughter’s beautiful contribution to the 5776 edition:

Parshat Trumah – February 2016
(Roughly corresponding to Shvat-Adar I 5776)

לשנה טובה תכתבו ותחתמו לאלתר לחיים טובים ולשלום!

May you and your families have a wonderful, happy, healthy, prosperous, and sweet new year!

Fine Arts Friday: 5775 Calendar Edition

Warning: The following post may exceed the recommended daily allowance for maternal boasting. Proceed at your own risk.

So, in case you were wondering – and I can’t imagine that you weren’t - here’s the thing about neglecting one’s blog:

It turns out – and yes, this came as quite a surprise for me, too - that when one allows days weeks months to go by without making time for blogging, one finds oneself with a rather extensive collection of partially-written posts.

I mean, consider the following images, which have been rattling around my Drafts folder since before Rosh Hashanah.

As veteran Our Shiputzim readers will no doubt recall, every year my mother puts together a family calendar, and the various grandchildren prepare the artwork.

Here are the Shiputzim kids’ beautiful contributions (I warned you that there would be boasting… :-)) to the 5775 calendar:

Parshat Shmot - January 2015
(Roughly corresponding to Tevet-Shvat 5775)

Bikurim (Shavuot) - May 2015
(Roughly corresponding to Iyar-Sivan 5775)

As always, please be sure to click on the pictures for a much better view.

Stay safe, warm, and dry, and have a wonderful Shabbat!
!שבת שלום ומבורך

Pre-storm housekeeping

As the entire country stocks up and braces for last year’s major winter storm – because why shouldn’t we take it for granted that this week’s storm will be an exact copy of the blizzard of December 2013? – now’s probably a good time to take care of some blogging housekeeping by finally sharing some post-Chanukah thoughts.

But first, I hope you all had a wonderful, joyous, and light-filled Chanukah!

Zot Chanukah 5775

And now without further ado, some post-Chanukah notes:

1) Before he summarily and abruptly resigned, the former education minister decided, for reasons best known to himself, to shorten Chanukah vacation – to the dismay and indignation of schoolchildren across the country.

And since it soon became apparent that the change was – like many of the former minister’s so-called reforms – hastily conceived and poorly implemented, the kids weren’t the only ones who were annoyed.

Because the result was that no two Shiputzim kids had the exact same vacation schedule, and thus, your humble blogger spent much of Chanukah asking, “Remind me again. Who is off tomorrow?”

2) Due to a bit of car trouble (hopefully more about THAT in an upcoming post), we found ourselves homebound more than we originally planned.

But it turned out that our unintended staycation had a silver lining.

With nothing else to do, the younger Shiputzim kids had a chance to watch both “The Princess Bride” and “Singin’ in the Rain,” and now YZG and I can say that we’ve fulfilled two of our essential parental obligations…

Stay safe, warm, and dry, and enjoy the snow!

Fine Arts Friday: Shmuel I Edition

Warning: The following post may exceed the recommended daily allowance for maternal boasting. Proceed at your own risk.

In lieu of an unconvincing apology or even a lame excuse for my prolonged blogging absence - and with your permission, of course - I think I’ll just jump right back in. Here goes:

A certain Shiputzim daughter had to make a diorama for her Navi class this week and decided to focus on the following psukim from Sefer Shmuel I:

“וַיַעֲשׂוּ הָאֲנָשִׁים כֵּן וַיִקְחוּ שְׁתֵּי פָרוֹת עָלוֹת וַיַאַסְרוּם בָּעֲגָלָה וְאֶת בְּנֵיהֶם כָּלוּ בַבָּיִת. וַיָשִׂמוּ אֶת אֲרוֹן ה’ אֶל הָעֲגָלָה וְאֵת הָאַרְגַז וְאֵת עַכְבְּרֵי הַזָהָב…”

“And the men did so, and they took two lactating cows and hitched them to the wagon; and they confined their calves in the house. And they placed the Ark of Hashem on the wagon, and the box and the golden mice…”
(Shmuel I 6:10-11)

As always, please feel free to click on the pictures for a much better view:

My favorite parts are the golden mice in the box and also the Kruvim on top of the Aron.

And yes, cows DO seem to appear in many projects here in TRLEOOB (=the real life equivalent of our blog). Why do you ask?

!שבת שלום ומבורך

Taking a stand

Every few years, without fail, there comes a point during Chodesh Irgun when the typical Anglo parent decides that he or she is fed up and isn’t going to take it anymore.

Helpless in the face of paint-splattered clothes, late nights, and kvetchy kids, said Anglo parent finally declares that it’s time to take a stand.

After all, online griping or even commiserating with other beleaguered parents in real life only goes so far.

Unfortunately, however, seeing as we don’t live between the covers of a melodramatic Gothic novel, locking the kids in their rooms and forbidding them from participating in Chodesh Irgun isn’t really an option. And given the current political climate, neither is demanding that the Education Ministry, the Knesset, or even the Supreme Court outlaw the entire endeavor.

But one is determined not to give up without some sort of fight, and so one makes a tiny, insignificant gesture that fools no one but oneself.

For instance, as one’s beloved offspring head out to the snif (the inevitably rickety caravan or lean-to that serves as the youth group’s headquarters) to “paint walls,” “rehearse,” or whatever it is that they’re calling it these days, one demands, “Call me when you get there! And don’t forget to take your umbrella!”

If all goes according to plan, the offspring in question obligingly groan and hopefully even roll their eyes before shrugging and doing as they’ve been told.

“Ha! Take THAT, Chodesh Irgun!” one secretly exults.

Of course, since it’s been raining rather steadily all week, and since making a phone call isn’t a big deal, deep down one is well aware that the kids would have taken the phones and umbrellas with them anyway.

But then again, during Chodesh Irgun, even the most meaningless parental “victory” is as good as it’s going to get…

!שבוע טוב ומזל טוב לשבט החדש

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!

________

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

Hu Yevarech Et Chayalei Tzahal

Well, here we go again.

The war seems to be back on, and as a result, many IDF soldiers and officers - many of whom had been granted short conditional leaves only yesterday - are now being ordered back to their respective bases.

Which means that all across the country - including here in TRLEOOB*!  – many families are now coming to terms with the fact that their beloved sons won’t be home for Shabbat after all.

But as I wrote in my achdut post, we still have much to celebrate on this Erev Shabbat Nachamu. For in spite of all the disappointments, the heartbreaks, the traumas, and the tragedies of the past two months, Am Yisrael remains united, and people around the world continue to demonstrate their love and support for the IDF.

For instance, a few days ago, OS (=Our Soldier) received a wonderful surprise from my friend Laura (of Pragmatic Attic fame).

She wrote that her young daughter made this beautiful drawing especially for OS, as an expression of her gratitude and appreciation for him and his friends:

The talented young artist, who graciously gave permission to have her drawing posted here, explained that it’s a picture of two chayalim (soldiers) hugging. “They are hugging,” she added, “because they are happy, and because [I don’t] want them to be sad.”

Thank you, Laura, and please thank your sweet daughter!

The IDF’s Chief Cantor and the Pirchei Yisrael Boys Choir of Givat Shmuel sing the “Mi SheBerach Prayer for the Welfare of the IDF Soldiers” to the tune of “El Eretz Tzvi.” (The IDF Cantor and Choir sang this same song at the Shloshim for the three boys Hy”d last week.)

שבת שלום ומבורך ובשורות טובות!

Shabbat shalom, and may the coming week be filled with besurot tovot, yeshu’ot v’nechamot (good tidings, salvation, and consolation) for Am Yisrael!

_____________

*TRLEOOB=the real life equivalent of our blog

Counteracting the Meraglim VI

Over the years, in the days leading up to Tisha B’Av, it’s become somewhat of an Our Shiputzim tradition* to discuss a different “antidote to the meraglim (the Spies)” – i.e. yet another wonderful aspect of life in our beautiful Land.

This year, this post practically wrote itself.

Because as our Sages famously taught, the Second Beit HaMikdash was destroyed due to sinat chinam (generally translated as “gratuitous hatred”), and thus, the ultimate antidote to the meraglim is the unprecedented sense of unity that has gripped every sector of Israeli society over the past 7.5 weeks.

We are united in our belief that Tzuk Eitan is a just, necessary, and unavoidable war, and in our knowledge that the IDF is the most moral, ethical, and humane army in the entire world.

We are united in our prayers and support for the brave soldiers and officers of the IDF, who not only risk and sacrifice their own lives to save ours, but who are also – both literally and figuratively - our sons, our daughters, our husbands, our brothers, our sisters, our neighbors, and our dear friends.

We are united in our concern for our beleaguered brothers and sisters in the South, who have spent the last 14 years (!!) living under enemy fire.

We are united in our bewilderment and anger toward those – including many of our self-professed "best friends EVER” – who consistently condemn us for imaginary atrocities while turning a blind eye toward our savage enemies, who cruelly target our civilians while deliberately endangering their own (i.e. a double war crime).

We are united in our outpouring of love for our wounded; in our grief and sorrow over the loss of so many of our best and brightest; and in our condolences to the bereaved families.

And most of all - as I wrote in my previous post - we are united in our awe and gratitude to HaKadosh Baruch Hu and His countless dedicated emissaries for all the goodness that He has bestowed and continues to bestow upon us.

That long list of emissaries includes the three special families: the Yifrachs, the Sha’ars, and the Fraenkels. Their nobility and strength inspired us, and their holy sons HY”D saved us – both physically and spiritually.

In fact, they can be compared to modern-day Esthers and Mordechais. They took a nation that was “מפוזר ומפורד” (“scattered and dispersed” - Esther 3:8) and brought everyone together on the path to salvation. (Esther commands Mordechai, “לך כנוס את כל היהודים” – “Go, assemble all the Jews.” - Esther 4:16)

For instance, a chareidi acquaintance told us that in his [exclusively chareidi] community, people couldn’t stop talking about the three families and their extraordinary emunah (faith). “My neighbors used to think that they had a lock on emunah,” he observed. “But now they all say that they’ve never seen anything even approaching emunah like this!”

Interestingly, the prime minister’s wife used the same word in reference to the wounded IDF soldiers and their families. The TV cameras caught Mrs. Netanyahu in the middle of a long day of visiting different hospitals, and she said that she was amazed at the soldiers’ emunah and their desire to return to their units to finish their missions.

Consider also the following:

• MK and Minister Silvan Shalom reported that when a siren interrupted a trade fair held at Tel Aviv’s port to boost southern Israel’s small businesses, thousands of Israelis spontaneously began singing, “Am Yisrael Chai!” (“The nation of Israel lives!”)
• On one of the first few days of the ground incursion, a reporter interviewed a mother visiting her wounded son. “I am not religious at all,” she insisted. “But now it’s the period of Bein HaMetzarim [i.e. the Three Weeks], and that means that it’s time for Am Yisrael to come together and to focus on that which unites us.”
• Channel 2 recently ran a segment on women whose husbands are serving in the reserves. When asked how she copes (she hasn’t seen her husband in weeks), a very secular-looking mother of several young children replied that her belief in God gets her through the day. “I speak to Him all the time,” she explained. “I speak to Him like a daughter speaks to her Father.”

An Israeli neighbor stopped by the other day. After comparing notes about our respective soldier sons, we started talking about the incredible achdut (unity) that we have been experiencing.

“It means that the Geulah (the Redemption) is finally on the way,” she declared. “It’s so close we can almost taste it!”

And so, I turn to you, our beloved family and friends in the Diaspora.

Please join us here in Israel, and come experience this achdut for yourself. Am Yisrael needs you here in Eretz Yisrael, and you need to become part of העם היושב בציון (the Nation that dwells in Tzion).

May we indeed be soon privileged to experience the Geulah, and may our eyes behold Hashem’s return to Tzion with mercy, speedily and in our days. Amen.

יה”ר שיבנה בית המקדש במהרה בימינו, אמן.

Have an easy and meaningful fast.

_________________

* Previous “antidote to the meraglim” posts include:

1. The annual Yemei Iyun B’Tanach in Gush Etzion

2. Shabbat in an Israeli maternity ward

3. A front row seat on our nation’s history

4. A country that revolves around the Jewish calendar

5. Rubbing shoulders with the country's movers and shakers

Tzuk Eitan

Shavua tov v’shaket.

As Day 12 of Mivtza Tzuk Eitan (literally, “Operation Stalwart Cliff” – i.e. “Operation Protective Edge,” which is, in essence, an extension of Mivtza Shuvu Achim – Operation Brother’s Keeper – and also a desperately-needed response to the staggering 14 years (!!) that our dear brothers and sisters in the South have been under incessant attack) draws to a close, Israel mourns the loss of Dror Chanin HY”D, a civilian volunteer who was delivering food and care packages to IDF soldiers when he was killed in a Palestinian mortar attack along the Gaza border; Sergeant Eitan Barak Z”L, who was killed in combat during the first night of the ground invasion; and Sergeant Adar Barsano HY”D and Major Amotz Greenberg HY”D, who were killed by Hamas terrorists who had infiltrated Israel on Shabbat morning.

UPDATE (Sunday, July 20) – We also mourn the loss of Staff Sergeant Benaya Ruval HY”D, who was killed by a terrorist emerging from a tunnel in Gaza; and Second Lieutenant Bar Rahav HY”D, who was killed by an anti-tank missile in Gaza.

May all their memories be blessed, and may their families be comforted among the other mourners of Tzion and Yerushalayim.

Meanwhile, thank you to the wonderful Our Shiputzim readers from around the world who’ve been asking how we’re doing here in TRLEOOB (=the real life equivalent of our blog).

Mostly, like the rest of the country, our thoughts and prayers are with the IDF – the brave fathers, husbands, brothers, sisters, daughters, and sons (including, of course, OS - a veteran of last year’s Amud Anan), who are working around the clock to protect Am Yisrael and Eretz Yisrael. May Hashem watch over and protect them, and may they all return home safe and sound.

The thing is that since that terrible day when Eyal Yifrach HY”D, Gil-Ad Sha’ar HY”D, and Naftali Fraenkel HY”D were brutally abducted and murdered in cold blood by our enemies, events have been moving at a dizzying speed.

Indeed, it seems as if every hour brings new developments, and there’s been no time to digest or understand any of them - let alone to write a coherent blog post about them.

With your permission, however, I would like to focus on two things:

1) First, the incredible revealed miracles and wonders that Am Yisrael has been privileged to witness.

For in spite of the devastating tragedy and trauma of recent weeks, words cannot begin to express our awe, amazement, and gratitude to HaKadosh Baruch Hu and His countless dedicated emissaries – including the IDF, the brilliant engineers who conceived and developed the Iron Dome, and many others – for all the goodness that He has bestowed and continues to bestow upon us.

2) Second, I don’t know if anyone has been listening, but many rabbis and community leaders have been [correctly, IMHO] exhorting Diaspora Jewry that NOW is actually the best time to make aliyah. As they explain, at this critical juncture, there is no better way to support Am Yisrael in Eretz Yisrael according to Torat Yisrael.

To the rabbis’ wise words, I would add that making aliyah TODAY also serves another important purpose.

Moving to our beautiful Land gives one a front row seat on Jewish history and allows one to play a major role in shaping Am Yisrael’s future.

***

May the coming week be filled with besurot tovot, yeshu’ot v’nechamot (good tidings, salvation, and consolation) for Am Yisrael.

Freshly Baked Goods Friday: Pseudo-Kiwi Edition

For her English class, a Shiputzim daughter has to write a paper and do an oral report about a country. She chose New Zealand, and as I type these lines, she’s putting the finishing touches on the project.

Part of the assignment is to prepare a food, and after a bit of research, she decided to bake something called Afghan biscuits, which – according to the all-knowledgeable Chef Google – is a classic Kiwi cookie made with butter, sugar, cocoa, and cornflakes, and topped with chocolate frosting and a whole walnut.

The recipe seemed simple enough, but as is our wont here in TRLEOOB (=the real life equivalent of our blog), the Shiputzim daughter in question had to make a few substitutions.

First of all, seeing as how our mixer is pareve and all, she didn’t want to make the cookies milchig, and so there went the butter.

Next, she didn’t feel that it was worth the effort of making frosting – when we had a tub of chocolate spread on hand that was begging to be used.

And finally, we didn’t have any walnuts – whole or otherwise – and so she used some ground hazelnuts instead.

The result may or may not resemble authentic Afghan biscuits, but since none of us had ever heard of them before, I’m not sure that it really matters…

Pareve Afghan Biscuits

Ingredients

• 2/3 cup canola oil
• ¼ cup plus 2 TBSP sugar
• 1¾ cups flour
• 2 TBSP cocoa
• 2/3 cup cornflakes
• Chocolate frosting (given that this was just for school, we cheated and simply used chocolate spread)
• Ground nuts (to be more authentic, use whole walnuts instead)

Directions

Cream the oil and the sugar. Add the flour and the cocoa. Gently fold in the cornflakes.

Using a teaspoon, drop the cookies on a baking-paper-lined cookie sheet. Bake at 350 degrees for 15 minutes.

Remove from oven, and let cool. Frost the cookies, and sprinkle some ground nuts on top (or place one walnut on each cookie).

Have you ever eaten, baked, or even heard of Afghan biscuits?

!בתאבון ושבוע טוב

Chaval al hazman

The following exchange may – or may not – have occurred yesterday somewhere in Israel:

Israeli Son: {comes home after finishing the bagrut in Tanach}

Anglo Mother: So, how was it?

Israeli Son: {annoyed} It was easy!

Anglo Mother: {confused} And why is that a problem?

Israeli Son: Because I wasted all that time studying for nothing!

Anglo Mother: {naively} Maybe the reason it was easy was BECAUSE you studied?

Israeli Son: {wonders for the upteenth time where his mother gets these crazy ideas}

Disclaimer: Any resemblance to actual events is purely accidental intentional.

Fiction Friday: Challenging Edition

Recently, ACSD (=a certain Shiputzim daughter) had to write something about “challenges” for her school’s English newspaper.

Here’s her submission:

******

A Challenging Assignment

by ACSD

One day, my teacher told us to write a story about challenges for the school newspaper. It was a big challenge for me to think what to write.

I sat at my desk and thought what to write. I wrote and erased, wrote and erased. I crumpled up the paper and threw it out. I asked my mother, my father, my brothers, and my sisters for ideas, but they could not help me.

The deadline for the assignment was getting closer and closer, and I still had nothing. I wanted to write a story, but I did not even know where to start.

I moved to the computer room, but I had nothing to type. When I was lying in bed, I thought. On my way to school, I thought. During school, I thought. After school, I thought. But I still could not come up with an idea.

The night before the assignment was due, I stayed up late thinking. Finally, my mother said that I should go to sleep. I had no choice, and so I went to bed.

I realized that the next day, I would have no story about a challenge…

******

Great job, ACSD!

!שבת שלום ומבורך

Little Bo Peep has lost her… cows?

Warning: The following post may exceed the recommended daily allowance for parental boasting. Proceed at your own risk.

It’s like watching a train wreck.

What with Yom HaAtzma’ut and even Pesach Sheni behind us, it’s just a matter of days before Lag BaOmer arrives in all its flaming, sooty, and incomprehensible glory.

For those just tuning in, Lag BaOmer, aka “the Night of the Tightly Sealed Windows,” consistently ranks (at least for adults) alongside Chodesh Irgun at the very top of the annual “what time of year do you dread the most” poll.

But while there’s absolutely nothing one can do to prevent Lag BaOmer from happening, one CAN turn to the time-honored traditions of avoidance and denial in a desperate attempt at mitigating some of its inherent unpleasantness.

To this end – and with your indulgence, of course - I’d like to take a few minutes to remind myself that being the Anglo parent of Israeli offspring isn’t always about heaps of smoke-infused laundry and enough stockpiled wood to light up, well, a small country…

After all, upon occasion, those very same Israeli offspring have a habit of accomplishing some pretty amazing things.

(Yes, this is where the aforementioned parental bragging begins…)

For instance, as you may recall, a few months ago I featured a poster that a certain Shiputzim daughter had skillfully drawn for her Mishnah class.

Recently, she had to make another project for the same class, and this time, she chose to make a diorama about Bava Metzia 2:9, which asks, “what is an aveidah (a lost item)?”

As you can see in the following pictures, the right side represents a case which isn’t considered to be an aveidah (“one who found a donkey or a cow grazing along the road”), and the left side depicts an example of something that IS an aveidah (“a cow runs among the vineyards”):

As always, please click on the pictures for a much better view.

</parental boasting>

What is your preferred method for dealing with Lag BaOmer’s nuisances?

!שבת שלום ומבורך

A Tale of Two Moments

For me, two distinct moments defined this year’s Yom HaZikaron-Yom HaAtzma’ut continuum:

Yom HaZikaron 5774 - Monday, May 5, 2014
11:00 AM

OS (=Our Soldier) stands at attention in one of Israel’s military cemeteries.

Although he’s wearing his dress army uniform, a scraggly mustache and beard obscure part of his face. Normally, this would be against military regulations.

But today, no one minds. In the IDF, the Jewish army, religious soldiers are exempt from shaving during the Sefirat HaOmer period.

As the siren wails, OS looks down solemnly at the grave of his former elementary school classmate, a hero who was killed while defending Eretz Yisrael and Am Yisrael.

T. stands a few feet away. He too was one of OS’s former classmates. The night before, T. appeared on national television. An officer cadet, he was chosen to be part of the honor guard participating in the Yom HaZikaron torch-lighting ceremony at the Kotel.

Yom HaAtzma’ut 5774 - Tuesday, May 6, 2014
12:30 PM

The entire Shiputzim family – including OS, who’s home on a short leave for the holiday - is driving along Kvish 6, the Trans-Israel Highway, on the way to the gorgeous Shomron for a wonderful BBQ (i.e. a mangal or al ha’eish, for the Hebraically-oriented amongst you) replete with great food and great company.

Kvish 6 is a marvel of Israeli engineering and ingenuity. A toll-road without any toll booths to impede traffic or serve as ugly blots on the scenery, its tunnels blend seamlessly into the Biblical landscape.

The Israeli flag attached to the car window whips merrily in the wind. Blue and white flags lining the side of the highway wave back, and electronic signs wish the travelers a happy Yom HaAtzma’ut.

Inside the car, the usual sibling squabbles (“He’s looking at me!” “She’s touching me!”) are surprisingly absent.

Perhaps the lull in the hostilities is due to the fact that everyone is simply enjoying the rare family outing. After all, in recent years, there have been very few occasions when the entire family was home and able to go on trips.

Or perhaps it’s because the Chidon HaTanach (the International Bible Quiz) is playing on the radio. Like most Israelis, the Shiputzim family has a close connection to at least one of the young contestants, and watching or, as in this case, listening to the Chidon is a cherished Yom HaAtzma’ut tradition.

Kvish 6 – Yom HaAtzma’ut 5774 (As always, please click on the pictures for a much better view.)

What small yet meaningful moments defined Yom HaZikaron/Yom HaAtzma’ut 5774 for you?

What we’ve been up to

Seeing as how I’ve been shamelessly neglecting this poor blog (for a change…) in recent weeks, you’ve probably been wondering what the Shiputzim family has been up to.

Here, then, are a number of vignettes, which should give you some idea of what’s been going on here in TRLEOOB*:

Scene #1

The Ulpanistit: [walks in the door at about noon]

Me: “Why are you home so early?”

The Ulpanistit: [surprised at the silly question] “Because we got our report cards today!”

Me: [shows my oleh roots again] “So?”

The Ulpanistit: [can’t believe that her mother is this ignorant] “So we NEVER finish after twelve on the day we get teudot…”

Me: [reluctantly concedes defeat and chalks this up to #yetAnotherThingI’llNeverUnderstand]

Scene #2

Me: [makes a sarcastic comment about the Shminist’s countless free periods]

The Shminist: “It’s your own fault, you know. Don’t forget that you’re the one who paid extra for me to take dovrei Anglit classes and do the 5-point English bagrut in 10th grade.”

Me: “Yeah, that part I remember.”

The Shminist: “Well, you should thank the yeshiva. They threw in two years of free periods at no extra charge…”

Me: [knows that there’s something wrong with his logic, but just can’t put my finger on it]

Scene #3

Certain Shiputzim Child: “We have a peulah in fifteen minutes, and I need to bring a chatif.”

Me: “Why did you wait until the last minute to tell me?”

Certain Shiputzim Child: [indignant] “I didn’t wait until the last minute! It’s just that I only remembered about it now…”

What has YOUR family been up to lately?

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*TRLEOOB=the real life equivalent of our blog

Registering displeasure

Warning: The following post may exceed the recommended daily allowance for long, drawn-out tales of, er, woe and suffering. Proceed at your own risk.

I have many fond memories of my college years.

But registering for courses is certainly not one of them.

It all started with my first semester at Stern. Incoming students signed up for courses after all the upper classmen, and due to the vagaries of the alphabet, I was one of the last students in the entire school to register.

Which meant that by the time my turn came around, the pickings were fairly slim.

I still shudder when I recall running up and down the stairs between the registrar’s office and the computer room, where a large monitor displayed all the closed courses. (“What do you mean EVERY section of freshman composition is closed?! How can I be closed out of freshman comp?!! I’m a freshman!!”)

Desperate, I had no choice but to ignore my mother’s cardinal rule.

The key to a successful college career, she had declared, was to push off taking the dreaded speech class (a general requirement for all Stern students) until one’s senior year, in hope that the academic powers-that-be would somehow be inspired to change the requirements and allow one to graduate without it.

(The fact that speech was still a requirement nearly two decades after my mother had graduated Stern should have been my first clue that the strategy was doomed to fail. But I digress…)

But since there wasn’t too much else left to take that first semester, I was forced to sign up for speech.

(Postscript: The silver lining was that during our senior year, when all my friends were groaning their way through speech, I had the smug self-satisfaction of knowing that I no longer had to deal with that misery. But once again I digress…)

But B”H, in the intervening years -  during which time I graduated college; YZG and I got married; we made aliyah; I started a blog; I neglected that blog; and so on – I was gradually able to come to terms with my, ahem, ordeal.

You see, I was secure in the comforting belief that technological advances would ensure that the Shiputzim kids would be spared the same registration trauma.

Fast forward to two weeks ago, when the Studentit called home in the middle of the day.

Registration for the spring semester had just opened, and she was having trouble registering. Could I please help her, she wondered.

Suffice it to say that although the Studentit attends an internationally-acclaimed institution of higher learning, which boasts some of the country’s finest engineering and computing minds, she and I spent the next two hours glued to our respective computer screens, as the supposedly sophisticated online registration system crashed ignobly right before our very eyes.

It seems the French may be on to something with their whole “plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose” thing (i.e. אֵין כָּל חָדָש תַחַת הַשָמֶש – for the Biblically-oriented amongst you).

[raises glass]

Well, here’s hoping that the registration system improves by the time  the Shiputzim grandchildren (BA”H) are ready for it…

Fine Arts Friday: Lost and Found Edition

Warning: The following post may exceed the recommended daily allowance for maternal boasting. Proceed at your own risk.

A Shiputzim daughter recently had to do a project for her Mishnah class.

Yes, her Mishnah class.

Note that such a concept certainly didn’t exist in my out-of-town Bais Yaakov-wannabe school.

In fact, the word “Mishnah” never appeared anywhere near our course schedule.

I mean, sure, we did learn a bit of Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers)here and there – albeit it mostly on a rather superficial level.

But it was clearly understood that this was the one exception to the hard-and-fast rule that girls. don’t. learn. Mishnah. Period.

After all, it could, um, lead to mixed dancing, which could lead to [gasp] something even worse: learning Gemara…

In contrast, the aforementioned Shiputzim daughter is currently studying Masechet Bava Metzia and chose to do her project on the second mishnah of the second perek, which discusses the mitzvah of hashavat aveidah (returning lost property) and includes a list of items that the finder must declare.

As always, please feel free to click on the pictures for a much better view:

Several close-ups of some of the details:

If the poster’s style looks vaguely familiar, it’s because it was produced in the same studio as last year’s Makat Dam project, which, coincidentally, is very appropriate for this week – i.e. Parshat VaEra.

!שבת שלום ומבורך

Pa’am Shlishit Glidah

Warning: The following post has been flagged by the relevant authorities for ignoring local culinary conventions. Proceed at your own risk.

After all these years in Israel, I like to think of myself as a real Israeli.

But then along comes the storm of the century, and while all self-respecting sabras instinctively turn their attentions to proper winter foods like sahlab, crembos, and hot soup, I instead choose to blog about… {lowers voice and shifts eyes furtively from side to side} well, about ice cream.

However, lest you think that I’m deliberately trying to defy native cultural norms, I should explain that here in TRLEOOB*, we recently acquired a brand new ice cream maker.

<brief explanatory interjection> About 15 years ago, we switched from individual Chanukah presents to one or two larger presents for the entire family. What’s your family’s approach to Chanukah presents? </interjection>

Yet, as it so happened, OS (=Our Soldier) spent the entire Chanukah on his base.

We thus decided to wait to taste our homemade ice cream (recipes below) until he came home the week after Chanukah, and we had our “Post-Chanukah Chanukah Family Celebration and Ice Cream Party”:

Upon hearing about our delayed celebration, guest blogger Malke asked if I thought that the ice cream maker was worth it and if it’s difficult to use.

Here’s what I told her:

“In a nutshell, it’s definitely worth it. Without exaggeration, we all thought that it rated among the best ice cream we've ever had - the taste, the texture, the flavor, it's all good. And pricewise, homemade ice cream comes out significantly cheaper per liter than the bought stuff (once you factor out the cost of the machine itself, of course). It's also not very difficult to make. Obviously, it's not as easy as hopping in the car and taking a container of ice cream out of the makolet’s freezer section, but it's fairly straightforward.”

Homemade (Philadelphia Style) Ice Cream

Philadelphia style ice cream (as opposed to custard style ice cream) has no eggs. These recipes were adapted from a combination of several different sources.

Vanilla Ice Cream

• 1½ cups whipping cream (i.e. shamenet metukah, for the Hebraically-oriented amongst you)
• 1¼ cups whole milk (we used 3% milk)
• ¾ cup sugar
• 1½ tsp vanilla extract

Chocolate Ice Cream

• 1½ cups whipping cream (i.e. shamenet metukah, for the Hebraically-oriented amongst you)
• 3/5 cup whole milk (we used 3% milk)
• ½ cup sugar
• 2½ TBSP cocoa
• 140 grams bittersweet chocolate – coarsely chopped
• 1 tsp vanilla extract

Coffee Ice Cream

• 1½ cups whipping cream (i.e. shamenet metukah, for the Hebraically-oriented amongst you)
• 1¼ cups whole milk (we used 3% milk)
• ¾ cup sugar
• 1¼ TBSP instant coffee (we used decaf)
• 1 tsp vanilla extract

Directions

Mix all the ingredients in a small pot over medium heat until the mixture is smooth and just beginning to form tiny bubbles. Remove from heat and refrigerate for a few hours or even overnight.

Pour the mixture into the ice cream maker and churn according to the manufacturer’s instructions. Freeze overnight before serving.

!בתאבון

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*TRLEOOB=the real life equivalent of our blog

Zaidy z”l (Updated)

Note: I am reposting the following from last year (with a few updates), because I think that the amazing letter at the end should not be missed.

Tonight – the eighth night of Chanukah - marks the yahrzeit of my beloved maternal grandfather z”l, a Holocaust survivor originally from what is now the Ukraine.

Zaidy z”l was the oldest of four sons. His father – who died when Zaidy was only nine years old - was the Rav of their shtetl and the author of several well-regarded seforim. (Sadly, only one of these works – a fascinating treatise on bringing korbanot in our time – survived the Nazi onslaught.) Zaidy’s mother and two youngest brothers Hy”d were murdered by the Nazis and their willing local accomplices in 1941.

A gifted talmid of both Rav Elchanan Wasserman zt”l in the Ohel Torah Yeshiva in Baranovitch and then Rav Aharon Kotler zt”l in the Kletzk Yeshiva (Zaidy z”l was only 17 when he received smichah – rabbinic ordination – from Rav Kotler) before the war, Zaidy z”l later earned an engineering degree from the University of Moscow.

Zaidy z”l (standing, in the hat) teaches other survivors in the DP camp in Frankfurt in 1946.

Throughout his life, learning Torah was Zaidy’s greatest joy, and after a long, hard day working to support his family, he would “unwind” with a sefer.

A family member watches as Zaidy a”h and I light the candles – Chanukah 5731 (December 1970).

Nine years after the above picture was taken, my family was living in Israel on a sabbatical, when Zaidy z”l suddenly passed away - on Shabbat Zot Chanukah 5740 (December 1979).

Some two weeks later, we received an extraordinary letter (written on an aerogram - remember those??) from him. Apparently, he had dropped it into the mailbox on his way to shul on Erev Shabbat – i.e. just a few hours before he died.

What follows is an incredibly moving excerpt (edited slightly for clarity) from that remarkable letter:

“…With Hashem’s help, our letter will find you all in good health and high spirits. Amen.

“We are, thank Hashem, fine. It is already the 6th day of Chanukah, and usually you are all here. Mommy prepares the pancakes; [REDACTED] takes them sledding in the snow; and we pass out the Chanukah presents to the kids.

“This year, there is no snow yet. The kids and you all are far away in far away places; and the presents for the kids are somewhere; and a mailman will do chores instead of our pleasure.

“But as they say, count your blessings. Thank Hashem for [having] been blessed with children who have chosen to follow in the שביל הזהב (the Golden Path), who are שומרי תורה ומצוות (observe the Torah and the mitzvot) and [are] bringing up their own children to do the same.

“This is the real meaning of מסורה (Jewish tradition) – to transfer the Torah and her commandments as it was given to our forefathers on הר סיני (Mount Sinai), not to add or deduct.

“Our parents planted the seeds in us. We did the same to our children, and you are doing the same to your children.

“Let us pray [that] the seeds you are planting will bear fruit. Amen…”

May Zaidy’s memory be blessed, and may Zaidy and Bobi’s children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren be privileged to continue along the path set out by our special parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents z”l.

ת.נ.צ.ב.ה