No Slits! Bare Calves!

Since my recent move, I found myself making the acquaintance of several new families, B'H'. And while I certainly love ad infinitum my existing roster of friends, I have been feeling the need to be more sociable and expand my social network. You know- become known in my new neighbourhood.

So there I found myself the last days of Pesach at yet another new family and was being my usual chatterbox self. In attendance was a large family, all 3 generations of them. I was busy playing Jewish Geography with the grandmother ("Do you know so-and-so from X community?"), who was attired like a real Bubbe: calf-length skirt and matching grandmotherly blazer, tights, and orthopedic shoes. In the midst of our tossing names/places around, I mentioned that when I lived down south, the communities were very open/accepting. Case in point, one Young Israel had a yeshivish Rav, yet the women in his congregation could come with a sunhat and short-sleeves and nobody would blink or comment. I said that such openness wouldn’t fly in Brooklyn.

When the topic ventured into the territory of skirt slits, things got particularly interesting. I noted that I had never understood why, if I had sewn up the slit on a skirt so that the slit is far below the knee, i.e., a few inches from the ankle, the slit was still deemed unacceptable. The Bubbe then crinkled her face into that "I'll be nice and educate you, poor thing" expression. She proceeded to tell me that once, at a shiur, the Rebbetzin had explained that it was because of how the fabric moved (when the skirt features a slit). When she said "moved", the Bubbe gestured with her hands to drive home the point as she gave me a meaningful look.

Did I mention that the long skirt I was wearing had a slit in it? :p

I must admit that it took every ounce of effort in my being to keep from erupting in convulsions of laughter. And then, to add to the carnival, the hostess concurred by proclaiming for all to hear that nobody thinks slits are okay. I think I deserve an award for maintaining decorum under such circumstances. But as a Yekki, when you're a guest in someone's home, the only acceptable reaction to anything is respect and politeness. I am proud that I stayed true to my Yekkish upbringing.

On an ending note, a second tale from the last days. I went to my long-time friend's house, and she was livid. Turns out she had spent the morning running around trying to hear 1. Yizkor, 2. Bircat HaKohanim. During her shul hopping, she wound up at one place where there is a small hallway when you enter the women's entrance with two doors; each door leads to a different shul. The one shul is ultra yeshivish, while the second is modern. Guess which shul she wound up in? Meanwhile, she was steaming mad because when she made it to the yeshivish shul after going to the modern one, the Rav was busy talking about tznius. Her point? That he should lecture to the ladies in the shul across the hall; my friend found it, quote, disgusting that women could go to shul without their legs covered. I was pleased that her daughter reminded her that "that is the type of shul it is", i.e. modern. If you don't like it, don't go there!

And that basically sums up my view of both stories. There are numerous flavours of frumkeit, some more lenient than others. Hold where you want to hold, but do not slam others for holding differently. If you disgree, then think for a moment about how the Beit HaMigdash includes 13 doors? We're a rainbow, y'all, not a shoebox. Let's all act accordingly with achdus and acceptance, and maybe we'll merit to see Moshiach. Today.

On The First Day of Sukkot, Hashem Gave to Me...

The first days were quite eventful. Unfortunately, no communal sukkah was erected (although Front Neighbour Girl invited me to stop by whenever. More on that later.); instead there's a little colony of sukkahs on the property. Imagine one sukkah filled with Israelis, then multiply it. That, my friends, should tip you off to the tenor that my chag has taken thus far.

• All the meals I ate out were fabu, as were the sukkahs in which we ate. The only thing I can't get used to in New York is the sechach rolls people use. I'm used to the pine branches we used back in Canada. Also, I give a hearty "Todah Hashem" for the fact that my outfit lasted until after the last meal- during which the child seated next to me ate a whole bunch of cherry tomatoes. Suffice it to say, I spent Sunday night picking the seeds off my hat and clothing. It was pretty hilarious.
• Shabbos I was unable to sleep due to the enthusiasm of my co-building dwellers in their respective sukkahs. Saturday night, desperate for some sleep, I dragged my mattress into the living room and finally fell asleep. When I awoke in the early morning (4 AM), I dragged the mattress back in- and didn't feel too guilty when the frame thudded against the floor. I considered it karma.
• Shabbos afternoon I was leaving to go visit friends (since I was unable to take my Shabbos nap) when I had a run-in with an Israeli. As I was coming down the stairs, I saw a young man whom I had never seen before with a big ring of keys. He opened the door and as we met in the hallway spoke to me. He asked if I could keep the downstairs door open on Shabbos, because they got locked out for 4 hours and had to call a locksmith. I found the whole thing ridiculous and told him that I have my reasons for keeping the door closed. That's when he went Israeli on me and asked me why. I was like, unbelievable! So I figured I could act Israeli too, and told him straight out that my security is my business and that he should do like me and carry his key with him (aka use a bendel dude!). But seriously, who the heck is he to be telling me to keep the door open???
• Sunday morning, I got up bright and early, eager to get to shul in time to see Hallel. Even though my favourite fall chag is Simchat Torah (aka Shemini Atzeret Part II), I must admit that seeing the whole men's section waving their lulavs and etrogim gets me teary-eyed. It's just a beautiful spectacle. But wouldn't you know it? My stomach is generally unhappy over the chagim, and I was feeling so lousy that I got to shul right after Hallel. I was totally bummed out, and consoled myself by remembering that at least I got there in time for Bircat HaKohanim and Hoshanos.
• Sunday afternoon Downstairs Kid was in good form as I was trying to take a mini-nap. So I did a polite "tap-tap" on the floor. I hear a fist banging my floor. So I figure it's the kid playing, and tap again. Bang-bang again. Repeat. Within 10 seconds my front door is being banged on. HARD. At first I just ignore it, but then I figure I may as well take the wind out of whomever's sails it is. It's Downstairs Guitar Guy, and he's all furious that his kid is quiet, and why don't I go downstairs to ask them to be quiet. I explained that I banged because I wasn't dressed. Like "Hello"- isn't that obvious by virtue of the fact that I'm not opening the door? Anyhow, it was heated conversation (read: Israeli) and I told him that we weren't going to reach an agreement so let's just drop it. I subsequently went downstairs and spoke to him about the situation though, in an attempt to make peace. After all, it is before Hoshana Rabbah. The sad part is that I had tried to call them before Rosh Hashana to wish them a Chag Sameach. Ah well.
• Block Yenta saw me on the street and called out to me "I need to talk to you". Suffice it say that despite my general gratitude to her for filling me in on what's going on with/in the building, I was in no mood for new info. Anyway, the past week, Front Neighbour Girl has had her father visiting from Israel and to say father and daughter don't get along would be an understatement. Then again, my apartment has been smoke-free since Daddy Dearest arrived, so I assume part of the negativity is due to FNG's refraining from smoking. Block Yenta then informed me that there have been a couple of incidents involving FNG and one of her regular guests. Now I certainly don't know what's the truth or not, and I'm avoiding believing any of what Block Yenta told me until what's what becomes evident. However, if what I heard is to be believed, things are indeed in a very bad state in the building. Colour me Not Amused.

Chol HaMoed has pretty much followed suit. I'm hoping that things will be on the upturn by Friday. At least, I sure hope so!

Just a Thursday in Brooklyn

Today was an interesting day, Brooklyn-wise.

In the morning, my davening was tested by a motorist who decided he would lean on his horn- for full 2 minutes. Like, HELLO, this is a mixed-zone neighbourhood. Some of us actually live here, and are trying to conduct our lives in peace. As for the rest of the yahoos who conducted the routine honking, I've said enough on them for a lifetime, so I'll leave well enough alone.

This afternoon I ventured off making deliveries: cookies and candy to those I'm visiting on Shabbos, my remaining stash of ginger almond cookies to my friend S (who loves ginger cookies), and my cheque to the Rav as per the gabbai's plea on R'H'. When I made my deliveries, none of the recipients were home. Yet as I made my way about the neighbourhood, I happened to see my host for Fri night, my friend S picking up her kids at the school bus drop-off, and the Rav's wife doing some shopping. I even ran into a friend of my coming home from Avenue J. It really was the first time ever that I felt like I was part of the neighbourhood. I have to admit: it was a nice feeling.

The evening was slightly less warm and fuzzy. I made the moronic decision to scoot into Moisha's to procure some Starlight Mints (since I had just given away my Organic Lollies in my care packages). The entrance aisle was barred by a woman who was reviewing the babka so carefully that she oblivious to the fact that her cart was preventing more than 10 patrons from moving.

This woman was the definition of chutzpah, and not the Brooklyn kind (I'll refrain from identifying her nationality). Figuring that everyone had carts except me, I crammed myself between her cart and the next patrons to get her attention, and asked her if she could please move so that the patron coming from the opposite direction could pass, thereby clearing the aisle for the remaining patrons who were waiting. Her response was sadly predictable. She told me that I could wait a minute. I politely pointed out that several people were waiting to pass, and that's when she unleashed the litany.

Are the Yom Tovim over yet? Because brother, the law of the land here is sure wearing me out!

Highlights from R'H'

A few moments worth noting from the last couple of days:

1. Had a tender reunion with the elderly Holocaust survivor I had the pleasure of sitting next to last year (see A Rare Honour). I was thrilled to see her. As for why her face lit up to see me... :) Anyhow, over the two days, similar to last year, her tefillah bolstered and inspired me.
2. Fought the urge to cry Day 1 as it was Shabbos. I managed to refrain from letting the tears spill over. Day 2 though I was simply exhausted and couldn't rekindle my enthusiasm. Hopefully Hashem took notice on Day 1.
3. Ate dinner with the "Mussar" host et al. Due to the small crowd (5 guys and me), he limited his berachas to everyone in general and left the personalised mussar for another time. As with my previous visit, the part of the evening that I enjoyed the most was communing with the women in the kitchen. I met the hostess's daughter, who was a breath of fresh air. She uttered the most memorable line of the chag: "I knew you were from out-of-town because you don't look miserable. You're too happy to be from Brooklyn". Classic.
4. Listened to the shofar today, with various interruptions (more on that in a separate post, bli neder). The funniest moment was when two cute kinderlach were obediantly sitting crunching away loudly on their nacho tortilla chips as Mommy tried to hear shofar. The CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH was surprising loud in the otherwise quiet shul and almost overshadowed the blasts. I tried to keep from laughing as I attempted to determine what message Hashem was sending me. :p Aside from "Pay better attention", of course.
5. Walked to the beach to do Tashlich. Saw at the Sefardi shuls along the way large throngs of people surrounding either wading pools or basins filled with water (and a few token leaves). The scene struck me as hilarious. I mean, how far were these people from the beach? So I assumed it's some minhag born from living in the desert hundreds of miles from water. Then again, maybe not. Inquiring minds want to know!
6. Made it to the beach just in time to do Tashlich (6:20 PM). I had forgotten however that the paper that I printed off a few years ago uses odd abbreviations. The end result is that the last few years I have problems deciphering what I'm supposed to say in spots. I'm sure I made the usual mistakes this year. Now the question is do I have to do a repeat visit to the beach?

That, along with a lot really terrific food, pretty much sums up my chag (While the terrific comment refers to the various meals I ate out, I'm pleased to report that my salads turned out fine after all). Hope everyone had a great chag and that it was the beginning of an excellent New Year!

The Smells of Rosh Hashana

This morning I had an early morning appointment. Yes, very bad planning on my part, given that I was up until 4 AM due to Selichos.

But in the end my Shabbos nap proved restorative enough, and I found myself full of energy as I bounded about Flatbush, running my miscellaneous errands. It didn't hurt that it was absolutely perfect weather- or that my purse was stocked with a nice baggie full of Jelly Bellies, courtesy of my friend S! In any event, it felt really marvelous to be out, and my shopping was relatively uneventful.

The only snafus in my day regarded my outfit. First, my favourite long-sleeve t-shirt wound up with two nice holes, and then one of the nose pieces on my glasses broke. B'H' I have a few pairs of contacts left. I wonder why the confluence though...Maybe to give me the kick in the "pants" to go get my eyes examined?

But then again, when you have spent an afternoon outdoors in the beautiful sunshine, smelling all the delicious foods that the Flatbush women were cooking today pre-Rosh Hashana (brisket anyone?), you can't help but stay happy, no matter what. Maybe it was the effects of Selichos, or maybe of my only having time for one cup of coffee this morning. Whatever the reason, it was the most pleasant day that I've spent in Flatbush in a very long time. Here's hoping that today is the start of a trend. :)

You Know It's Elul When...

I've noticed that since Rosh Chodesh, the yetzer hara is a lot stronger. Case in point, this evening while I was out shopping, I was much closer to the edge while making my rounds. The yetzer hara wants you now, while you're trying to start making amends for your aveirahs, chasve shalom, of the past year, to FAIL. It wants you to keep adding to the Going to Gehinnom column, chasve shalom, as opposed to wiping that side clean.

So don't give in, y'all. Stay strong. Hang tough. Remain aware of the yetzer's devious little plan. And don't get caught in his trap. We're all better than that, and if we put our mind to it, we can succeed.

Here's hoping that we all side-step any spiritual pitfalls in the coming weeks so that we can truly enter the new year spiritually recharged and invigorated. And make Hashem proud.

A Canuck's Take on the 4th of July

This year of all years, I was hoping to make it to the fireworks. In my part of Canada, the summer is filled with weeks of fireworks displays set to music, and the whole city converges at the waterfront to get the full effect. Feeling homesick or nostalgic (or both), I was hoping to finally get to see New York's version of a fireworks display.

Alas, predictably, the show started around motzei Shabbos. So, no fireworks for LPC. Plus, because they moved the venue to the west side this year, I didn't even see a glimmer of lights in the sky. I had to take solace in witnessing the umpteen firecrackers set off by the neighbours. They were in fine form, having started barbecuing Friday night. :p So I mentally tipped the remainder of my beer to them, enjoyed what spectacle I could scrounge, and took the Citizenship test on MSN. Astonishingly, in my 10 years in this country, I seem to have absorbed all kinds of American history/civic tidbits without realizing it; I scored over 80%! How'd you like them apples...Not bad for a makeshift American, eh?

I'm thinking today's a good day to be broiling some veggies and skewering some veggie dogs. Here's hoping that this time next year I'll either be back in Canada or at least able to eat meat and properly join the festivities.

Irregardless, here's wishing everyone a fabulous 4th of July weekend!

The List

The first day of Shavuous, I was treated to a wonderful surprise: Barb Chansky showed up to lunch! I was literally hopping up and down in excitement. Any meal with Barb is a meal worth eating!

While we were sitting on the couch catching up, as is our minhag when we bump into each other at our gracious hostess, Barb dropped a real pearl. She pointed out that I had reached my "boiling point" where Brooklyn was concerned. Barb, as usual, you hit the nail right on the head!

So the past few days I've been thinking that I need to start thinking about remaining in New York on a short-term basis. To that end, I need to decide how long I need to be in New York, where I should go next, and what I need to do in my remaining time between point A and point B. Because as much as New York has so much to offer, let's face it- I never have the simultaneous time, energy AND money required to partake in any of the many exciting things going on here. As much as I love museums, and music, and the parks, I never get around to any of them, because it's too much of schlepp just to get there and back. So instead I live in New York and basically just work, cook, clean, and sometimes sleep. Not much of a life.

So I've begun to really think about what type of lifestyle makes me happy. And I'm making my list of Things To Do Before I Leave New York. If anyone has suggestions for fun stuff to do, feel free to post your comments...or post your comments regardless!

The Lunch that Almost Wasn't

I was invited for lunch last Shabbos (aka Day 2 Shavuous) to a family I went to but once soon after arriving in Brooklyn. The reasons for my only going the one time were that 1) their lunches are a bit of a social scene, complete with many older singles, 2) I had already met and then subsequently married my DEH sooner after the single chow down, 3) they're located pretty much at the other end of Flatbush. Quite the schlepp any time that the weather isn't temperate, which as you all know means basically ALWAYS in New York.

Anyhow, one of my friends recently suggested that I should be socializing more, so I figured a good place to start was a lunch that would contain 50 people. Given that I like to refer to myself as an extroverted introvert, such lunches aren't generally my cuppah, but I decided that there's no time like the present to try to branch out, right?

The first snafu began when I arrived early. Lunch was called for 12:30, and I made it there by 12. I had been banking on someone being there within half an hour prior to the meal, since with such a large number of guests preparations would surely be underway by then. Alas, such was not the case. I knocked a few times, and then resigned myself to standing on the stairs (there was nowhere to sit, at least nowhere that I could sit without being unlady-like in my suit) and waiting for signs of life.

Just when I was about to give up and head home to eat a nice meal of matzah and cabbage, a neighbour very kindly came over and asked if I wanted to wait inside her house and/or have a drink. I will admit that she restored my faith in Flatbush, which had begun to really flounder with each long, hot minute that I was standing there waiting. I politely declined, and after she reiterated her offer a second time and departed, I reckoned it was time for one final knock before deciding what to do. This time, the hostess's mother swept open the door and ushered me in.

I was quite perturbed to see that the family had been home for quite a while, but had deliberately let me wait outside because they weren't ready yet for guests. Given that right inside the house they had a nice couch available, I found their decision quite rude, albeit understandable. I offered to finish setting the table (my favourite Shabbos activity), and that's when the circus began.

One by one men arrived and I was introduced to each very eagerly by the host. It wound up that the lunch was a bonafide singles event, in which the women were vastly outnumbered to the tune of 3 to 24. I was appalled. The lunch wound up being a very depressing affair, since the majority of the attendees were 1) regulars who knew each other and broke out into cliques, 2) insecure or rude, because most refrained from speaking to us women at all, 3) late 40s or older, and obviously very much stuck in their bachelor behaviour. Compounding the atmosphere was the choice by the host family to sit by themselves at the head and mainly ignore their guests. The end result was that I felt like they were offering a venue for people to socialize, not that I partook in a fun meal with a bunch of people- including the host family. The cherry on top was the joke that the host made when the meal was breaking up: that there was still time enough time left for us to book a hall for a June wedding.

There were many other troubling parts to the lunch, but I will spare you all the gory details. On the one hand, I understand that my hosts see themselves as offering a valuable service to older singles, and I certainly applaud their efforts. They are doing much more than most people, who love to say "Meretz Hashem by YOU" without taking action to help their well-wishes come to fruition. That said however, I went away with a sour taste in my mouth. But I felt that the experience was worthwhile, if for no other reason than I was reminded of an important lesson: Don't listen to well-meaning friends who give you advice, because in the end, you know yourself, and what's right for you, better than anyone else. Period.

Made It!

Phew. I don't know about you, but just making it through to this Shabbos seems like a major victory. Like the rest of you, I was up most of the night turning the house back to its chometzdik glory, baking challah, and prepping salads for Shabbos. After finishing the work day and cleaning the house, things seem to be ready to slide back into their regular routine- except for this nagging feeling that it's still Pesach and I shouldn't be getting cookie crumbs all over the place! :p

But it occurred to me that perhaps that's precisely why Hashem gives an "extra" payoff, so to speak, for baking challah this week. Pesach is Pesach and the rest of the year is the rest of the year. Right now, when we're all promising ourselves that this year we'll be disciplined and keep the house contained to its designated chometz zones so that next year's cleanup will be a snap, Hashem wants to give us a bit of a push in the right direction, i.e., Hashem wants us to recognize that Pesach is over and done with for the year, and we need to give the proper kavod to Shabbos by having challah and all the accompanying chometzdik foods. We did our job for this year in terms of Pesach, and cleaning for Pesach wouldn't be cleaning for Pesach if there's nothing to clean. So go ahead. Make that separation between Pesach and the rest of the year by eating that challah tonight and tomorrow. After all, that's exactly as Hashem wants it to be!

Good Shabbos!

Sooo Coooool

My dear mother used to do needlepoint; my guess is that it functioned as a much needed point of relaxation in her life- given who her children were. :p Needlepoint pieces were consequently featured throughout the house, including my favourite, one of a Shabbos table in the "dining room".
She even taught me a few stitches, although I don't think I ever quite finished a piece. Hmmm. Kind of like all of those rolls of film I took in the '70s/'80s that sat in my camera until they expired.

Anyhow, my good friend Silka sent out an email that included some amazing knitted items for Pesach. You've got to check these out. To borrow one of her catch phrases, "Very amazing".

Here's wishing everyone a chag sameach for the last days of Pesach.

Chol Hamoed Snippets

Hope everyone had a wonderful time the first days. And got some much deserved rest! So far, chol hamoed has proven a bit eventful. Below are the current highlights:

• Spent yesterday, which happened to be the one day my husband and I have both had off since forever, schlepping deep into Queens to the finish our tax return at the accountant's. However, we discovered, after wasting two hours there, that the accountant wouldn't have the return ready for us after all. We could've been at the zoo instead! SIGH. Although it was nice to have a reason to, oh, LEAVE THE HOUSE. Hashem only knows that I'm becoming more and more of a hermit each day, LOL.
  
• Had a chocolate attack, and having already consumed 6 squares of chocolate and two chocolate chip macaroons, I decided to resort to a 50 calorie Morning Select chocolate pudding. Imagine my surprise to discover that not only had the pudding gone sour despite boasting an expiry date of May 24, but it wasn't kosher l'Pesach- and I had bought it two days before the chag at a "Pesach Superstore". I was less surprised to find the second pudding, which B'H' was kosher l'Pesach, similarly spoiled.
• Had to buy scotch tape, because it has been raining masking tape all chag. I've consequently gone through almost the whole roll in less than a day reinforcing the useless masking tape. I figure from this point on, if things fall, they fall.

I wonder what the rest of chol hamoed will bring...

Bircat Hachamah

So I managed to dash downstairs in time to say Bircat Hachamah at 9:43 precisely. Like a true Yekki. B'H', the sun was perfectly framed between the tree across the street, so saying the beracha wasn't a problem. I knew it would be anti-climatic, along the lines of "That's it???", but the symbolism is truly enthralling regardless.

FYI, Bircat Hachamah has hit the secular media. Now that's pretty cool, especially given that it *almost* portrays yiddin in a positive light. Feel free to pass along your Pesach/Bircat Hachamah stories...

GEULAH!

Chag Kasher V'Sameach

Here's wishing everyone a most joyous, festive chag!

I don't know about you, but I am totally psyched that we're saying Bircat Hachamah tomorrow, erev Pesach. Such an auspicious omen, if history serves as any indication. So I'm casting my vote with all those who feel that this coalescence suggests something truly auspicious. May it be the Coming of Mosiach! AMEN!

Chag Kasher V'Sameach everyone! Geulah! Wooooo-hooooo!

Phone Home

I finally got a hold of my Mom. Thank Goodness! We caught up and I sang Ma Nishtanah for her- with her coaxing me, because darned if I remembered the words. Either time, LOL.

She in turn told me the following joke:

A snake wasn't feeling well, so he slithered into the doctor's office. After a thorough examination, the doctor exited the room and came back with two small white pills. The snake asked him, "Do you know what's wrong with me"? The doctor said he didn't. So the snake asked "What are those?". The doctor replied "Viagra. You have a reptile dysfunction".

I couldn't stop laughing.

On a less funny note, we commiserated about how hard Pesach is without my Dad and my grandfather. I told her that I've been leaving the sedorim before I hear the songs because I don't want to forget how my Dad sang them. She said that of course I did.

After we swapped stories of our respective Pesach purchases, I let her go to attend to her nightly schedule. Given how I felt when I hung up, I think I'm already overdue for another visit home.

Flatbush Gone Mad

It was insanity everywhere this afternoon when I exited the apartment in search of tape. After three long hours of going around the local shops and avoiding all but two because of the sardine-like conditions, I scored two rolls (Thank You Hashem for Bargain Hunters!). Which have since been used up, naturally. I decided that I should be smart and also popped in to Mountain Fruit to score a few yogurts. They were only moderately busy, so I would suggest that if you're around there, you might want to check out their Pesach offerings. FYI, people were parking way up past Ocean Parkway to go shopping at Moisha's Discount.

On a positive note, I finished off the entire house, save doing bedikah chometz and unpacking my Pesach essentials. I even cleaned the bathroom/floors, because I had to put my cleaning supplies away and seal up the closet. It's down to the wire here, and I'm counting the hours until I can plug in my new water urn and have myself a well-deserved cup of tea.

In other news (yes, something besides Pesach. Shocking!), I just got a phone call from BB. He may be coming down the weekend after Pesach. He actually wanted to come down for the Shabbos after Pesach, i.e. the day after the chag, but I told him that between switching back the house and working Friday, I didn't think I could handle a house guest. So instead it's looking like he'll be coming in on the Sunday and staying a few days. WOO-HOO.

Of course, after the disappointment last time, I'm not going to plan anything until he gets on that bus. But it's a nice surprise, which I'm sure I'll enjoy more when I wake up in the morning after getting some sleep, LOL. Here's wishing everyone mazel with their remaining preparations.

Bueller? Bueller?

I was in line this evening trying to buy a few yogurts (I've been starving all day long, but between working and cleaning, who has time to eat?) when Hashem threw me a bone. I found myself in the checkout line at Moisha's by the nice store manager. I figured I should seize the opportunity and asked when they're expecting to receive more boxes of machine spelt matzah. To which he replied, "There is no more to be had". As in, all the Pesach producers are sold out of product. For all products!

So, if you go to the shop and they don't have what you want, don't expect to find it during chol hamoed. It would seem that because of the economy, producers were frugal with their numbers. As for me, Pesach is going to be very interesting indeed this year without my spelt matzah stash.

Please pass along any sightings you may have of those golden spelt boxes in your travels. I'm going to start calling around (Pomegranate anyone?) come morning.

Treasure Hunt

I decided that since I basically subsist on tea/coffee, it would be ridiculous for me to boil water yet again this Pesach using a small pot on the stove. As I'm sure you can imagine, on Yom Tov when the fire is set on a low flame, you wind up waiting a looooonnnng time for that pre-shul cup of joe.

This year, I told myself, I'm going to give myself a treat: I'll buy an urn! My very first year here I went nuts at Moisha's since I had just moved into the neighbourhood and bought one of their lovely urns come Pesach. But of course that baby got converted into my Shabbos urn year-round pronto. Leaving me with my present situation.

Anyhow, I tried psyching myself up the last week to lay out the required $55, but what with the economy and a big ? hanging over my current employer, I figured splurging like that was just too extravagant. I told myself that instead I would buy a new blech (my husband has one, but it's all bendy/wavy, which becomes a problem when you're trying to balance a full kettle on it) and a tea kettle. Of course, since the last time I got a blech was several years ago, I forgot that my stove is an irregular size and that I would have to measure it in order to procure anything. Needless to say, this realization only came to mind once I had dragged myself all the way up Avenue M to the variety shop at Ocean Avenue. They do have a great selection though, if anyone's looking.

Today I decided to call my friend M (very James Bond, I know), who is one of my two bastions of knowledge for all things Flatbush. She informed me that she got an urn recently for bubkas at The Buzz. So despite my general aversion to The Buzz (crowded, noisy, etc. etc.), I went there earlier this evening. It was jam-packed, as expected, but the merchandise did not disappoint. Turns out they had two smaller urns to choose between: a pump pot for $29.99 and an old-fashioned urn for $19.99. I was originally going to go with the pump pot, but decided by the time the cashier called next and it was my turn that I should go with the old-fashioned urn (it was difficult to push down the dispenser on the model for the pump pot, so I imagined I would wind up breaking it by the end of the chag).

So I happily carried the urn home and it's now sitting in my closet along with the other miscellaneous Pesach items I'm waiting to put out once the entire kitchen is Pesadik. But here's the interesting part of this whole saga. When I spoke to M, she told me that according to Reb Dovid Cohen, shlita, you don't have to toivel an urn. Instead, all you have to do is take a screwdriver, remove one screw from the urn, and then screw the one screw back in. No water necessary. Rather, because you have participated in assembling the urn, it is now a "Jewish" urn, thereby circumventing the need for insertion in the mikveh. Isn't that just the most ingenious thinking ever? I was so excited by how brilliant and original the logic is...

Those are my current tips for anyone doing Pesach shoppping. Speaking of which, if anyone knows where I can find some machine-made spelt matzah, please let me know...

Bad News

Since I had a box of unopened Twinings Irish Breakfast tea, I decided to email the KLBD regarding whether the box was kosher l'Pesach year-round. Here was the response (they are amazingly quick, btw; I sent the email erev Shabbos! ).

Kosher.org.uk - Message From Website
From: Kosher Info (info@kosher.org.uk)
Dear ____

Twinings Irish Breakfast Tea is not Kosher for Pesach.

Kind regards

Michal

Michal Eder
Kashrut Researcher
Kashrut Division

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stores.  With over 800 new products listed, and an improved and expanded
Medicines section, be sure to buy your copy.
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via our website www.kosher.org.uk.
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There you have it. I'll have to settle for Wizzotsky tea for me over Pesach, it seems. Unless someone knows where to find kosher l'Pesach Red Rose. Gosh, do I miss that brand. And please, don't even bother suggesting Lipton. I'll never forget the first time I drank a cup; I had the distinct feeling that I was drinking recycled tea. YUCK.

STILL Pesach Cleaning...

So, I thought I was in pretty good shape. Then I made The List of what's left to do. DARN IT!

I know that the reward is in direct relation to the suffering involved, but can't a gal catch a break already? I was really looking forward to this year being the year when I broke the cycle, and was actually ready a few days before. Not a week mind you- just like, Monday. Versus Wednesday morning when it's time to burn chometz.

On a plus note, when I saw some shmutz on my keyboard today that I had failed to catch yesterday and subsequently cleaned it up, I didn't do the frenzied clean up afterward. My response instead was Whatever! Baby steps...