Filming the Action During Yom Ha'atzmaut Prayers, 5776

Over the years I've taken some amazing photographs during the Yom  Ha'atzmaut (Israeli Independence Day) Prayers in the large Shiloh Mishkan (Tabernacle) Synagogue. Those years I would  make a point of sitting front and center in the Ezrat Nashim (Women's Gallery) where I'd have a bird's eye view of the joyful singing and dancing. But this year for various reasons, I decided to sit a bit further back, though on the aisle so I could easily, at least so I had thought, get to the front to photograph the dancing and shofar blowing.

When the "action" began I didn't rush up. I didn't feel like being pushy, but then all of a sudden I realized that this isn't my year to take all those great pictures. And then I decided that photographing the other women photographing the dancing would be a very good substitute. So, here they are.

Shofar blowing from last Yom Ha'atzmaut, 5775.

Simple Trick to Help Remember to Count the Omer Friday Nights

During the week, I get reminded to count the Omer by my phone, emails etc but on Friday night, the Eve of Shabbat I get stuck, since I can't use any of those electric reminders. So a couple of years ago I started hanging a sign across from where I like to sit on Shabbat. Yes, across from the couch.

As you can see, each week I cross out the old number and add the new one. 

I usually notice it. Though this past Friday night, I had been dozing while waiting for my husband to return from shul. Suddenly I heard him say:

"And what's this thing?"

He was pointing to my sign. I thanked him, then told him and then I made the blessing and counted the Omer!

New Service in the Shaare Tzedek Mammography Clinic

I thanked the doctor  in the Shaare Tzedek Mammography Clinic for "reading me" perfectly. B"H, all is well, in case you were wondering...  The doctor informed me that if I "need" reminding that it's time to make my next appointment, just tell the clerks when leaving, and they'll make sure I get a reminder call.

Perfect service for procrastinators like myself whose "annual" mammography ends up more like biennial or at best a year and a half after the previous one. I've had this deal with the dentist for years, and now at the dentist I make my appointments even almost a year in advance.

The waiting room was a cross-section of Jerusalemites, Jewish, Arab, religiously dressed and less so. Some of the Arab women were accompanied by a male who translated for them, otherwise men, even among the staff, were rarely seen. And I must say that the staff members were all kind, gentle and understanding.

Everyone sitting and waiting looked worried and tense. I had one of the first appointments of the day, so I didn't see the various expressions of the women as they walked out after the tests and consultation, but no doubt that some had broad smiles, while others need our prayers.

Refuah shleimah,  a complete and speedy recovery to all who need it.

Easy and Impressive Homemade Bourekas!

A few days ago, we had a big family get-together with all my children and grandchildren and my cousin and most of her family, too. It was at my daughter's house in Ofra, and she did most of the food preparation with the help of her siblings. I only contributed two items, of which my kids have fond memories. One was my famous 1, 2, 3 Cookies, both chocolate chip and granola/oats, and the second are my Tomato/Onion/Cheese Bourekas. They are very easy to make and always look impressive. 

Ingredients:

batzek allim, puff pastry dough, readymade frozen or frozen malawach dough, which is basically the same though round

fresh onions sliced or cut into large pieces

sliced tomatoes

grated yellow cheese, like what you'd put on a pizza

one raw egg to "paint" on unbaked bourekas

Directions:

You can make your bourekas any shape, half-circle, rectangle, square, triangle or round. There are customary shapes for different types of filling. Especially when I am making bourekas for a large group I like long ones that can be cut when served. 

Cut a piece of the dough over half the size you need for the bourekas, since you will stretch it to the size you want. 

When it's the size and shape you want, place it on baking/parchment paper.

Put the onion along one third of the dough.

Top it with tomato.

Then sprinkle on the cheese.

Fold over the dough, sealing the edges well.

I fit three in these pans and "painted" them with raw egg.

Bake in a medium oven until puffed and brown.

The onions, tomatoes and cheese will bake up really well as the dough bakes. There's no need to saute the vegetables first if sliced thin enough. There's more than enough fat in the dough, which is a reason the vegetables cook so well inside.

Variations:
Use different vegetables
Don't use cheese
Fill with leftovers, but don't tell anybody!
Fill with cooked meat or fish.
Use differnt cheeses.

Please let me know in the comments how it comes out and what suggestions you have, thanks.

Together Again

Sorry that the quality of this photo is so awful, but if I can find a better copy to use I will. 

My Uncle George, My Father and My Aunt Boche

My father and his siblings were very close and very different. My father was the last of the three to pass away. My father was the middle child, only 19 months younger than his brother, and their little sister was about six years or so younger than him.

They were all talented and intelligent. My aunt made a career of art, starting in textile design and then children's book illustrations. After that she lectured on how to publish a book among other things. My father got his degree in Accounting and afterwards, when I was a child he became a CPA. He built a private practice and was adored and respected by his clients. My uncle had inherited my grandfather's factory which produced raincoats, but gave it up and got a civil servants job.

All of them lived long lives. My uncle died just short of his 90th birthday; my aunt was in her eighties when she died. And my father was close to 96. They were all amazing in their ways, strong and determined and THE AMERICAN GENERATION, born in New York to parents who came from Neshelsk, Poland and Rogotshov, Belarus. They adored and enjoyed their grandchildren. And my father and uncle were privileged to also live long enough to know their older great-grandchildren.

I bless all of their descendants, those already alive and those to be born, wishing that they enjoy such wonderful closeness with their siblings.

Confusing Kashrut Labeling

*I got more information. Please read at the end of the post.

When I was shopping the other day for supplies for my TNT family favorite 1, 2, 3 Chocolate Chip Cookies, I almost bought these chocolate chips, because I was attracted to the 60% chocolate.  

But then I looked at the ingredients, and it said חלב milk, even though it also said פרווה Parve, which means no milk/no meat/poultry= good for all sorts of meals. I asked a few people how it could say it has milk if it's parve. Finally, a neighbor read it all very carefully and said that the chocolate chips were produced on machinery that also handles dairy products, so not everyone will consider it truly parve. But she wasn't correct either.

Because apparently, the "milk" notice has nothing to do with kashrut according to someone who was able to discover what it is:

... the notice is for allergy purposes, and the warning is to prevent any lawsuit against the company. The picture does not even show the ingredients, the picture is of the allergy warning. The warning states that it may contain milk but stipulates clearly that it is run on a dedicated parve line only. Basically it is a health statement, not a kashrut statement.

What Goes Around Comes Around, The Perfect Gift

What Goes Around Comes Around

A phrase meaning you get what you give.

 urbandictionary.com

About twenty years ago or more before going to the states to see my parents, I saw an adorable and practical kitchen "tool" of sorts. It was a raised wooden board that had a plastic "bowl" underneath, so you could easily "catch" the cut vegetables or fruit. I thought it would be the prefect gift for my mother who made lots of salads and vegetable. So, I bought one for her and afterwards wished I had also gotten one for myself. But I never, ever saw one again.

That is until a short while after my daughter got married. They came for a Holiday, and her husband had seen what he thought would be the perfect gift for me and bought it. Yes, it's exactly what I had bought my mother about a decade before.

I still use it daily!

Culture in Jerusalem, Painting Exhibit

My friend Ellen Lapidus Stern  gave me a call before Passover that she was opening an exhibit of her paintings in Jerusalem, on 45 Emek Refaim Street. I promised to make a great effort to get to see it, and today I did go.

The exhibition is open everyday from 8:30-9pm and is closing on May  10.

It was wonderful seeing her paintings up on those walls in the old building. In some ways the well-worn walls were the perfect backdrop for Lapidus's art.

I hope you can get there to see all her meaningful and beautiful paintings. Yes, they are for sale.

Here are some photos of the paintings. All of the photos here in this post were taken by me, Batya Medad.

When "Red" Brings Wonderful Memories

This week, I needed a photo with "red" for 52Frames. After taking lots of photos, I ended up submitting one which wasn't planned at all. Some red clothespins caught my eye.

"Red Clothespin, Memories"
I get very nostalgic about clothespins and hanging clothes. It's my favorite household chore, and we even planned the terrace so I'd have lots of clotheslines, 20 meters total. I grew up in Bell Park Gardens, Bayside, NY, which has not only the expected playgrounds and parking lots, but even until this day, there are areas with clotheslines for the residents to use to hang and dry their laundry. I absolutely adore the smell of freshly sun-dried laundry.
As a little girl, I loved helping hang the wash, and when I couldn't reach, I'd stand on a milk-box. Way back in the middle of the previous century, milkmen delivered milk straight to the door and the glass bottles were placed in sturdy boxes, strong enough to hold me.
Memories...

I know that many, many people have absolutely no experience hanging clothes on lines to dry, but for those of us who grew up, or even still live, in Bell Park Gardens, Bayside, NY, clotheslines are normal. Here in Israel some people, like myself still hang out the wash, and there are apartments designed with clotheslines, but they are "hidden," which reduces the sunlight on the wash, very much defeating the purpose of the clotheslines.

Here are the other photos I had thought to send in to 52Frames, but some members who helped me choose thought there was something more mesmerizing in this photo of the clothespins.

"One Man's Trash is Another's 52Frames Photo"
When the time frame started I noticed this "red garbage" among the leaves on a bush, I couldn't resist, but this wasn't acceptable by others.

Still Life in Red
Not having planned this, I suddenly noticed that these "kitchen tools" could be perfect for the "Red" challenge. But nobody agreed.

I took lots of photos of these flowers, but I didn't like the focus.

We Thought They'd Live Forever: My Parents

It's so strange to think that both my parents have now passed away. It's only two weeks, since my father died, and in some ways it feels like a million years ago. And in some ways it feels like it never happened, even though I did sit shiva here, before Passover. I wasn't at the funeral, which was held in New York just before Passover began. 

I've been going through pictures and will no doubt post more. My mother passed away less than three years ago. They were both the longest living, record-breaking members of their families. Considering the effects and influences they both had on their grandchildren, even great-grandchildren, nieces, nephews (and their children, too,) and of course the three of us, their kids, in a sense they haven't really died. When you leave descendants and memories, like my parents did, it's clear that just their bodies no longer function. Their talents and interests can be seen in their great-grandchildren and will Gd willing be passed to the yet future generations. 

Sidney Spiegelman, Z"L, and Shirley Spiegelman, Z"L

Sidney Spiegelman, Z"L, and Shirley Spiegelman, Z"L

My Mother and I a few years ago

My Parents and I in their Great Neck, NY, livingroom 

My Father and Uncle Max Kaplan, Z"L, playing with my older daughters over forty years ago

My Father in the US Navy

My Father in the US Navy

My Mother many decades ago

My Father

My Mother

My Parents with a Friend in the Phoenix Old Age Home where they lived for close to three years

My Father and the Traveling Dentist

My Father Leaving the Traveling Dental Clinic

Bli neder, not a vow, I hope to post more photos of my parents from other times in their lives, not just when they were very old.

Eruv Tavshilin- עירוב תבשילין What? How?

Jewish Law has evolved and developed in some interesting directions, and I'm taking about the strict aka Orthodox, Torah Observant. 

In a year like this one, we Jewish housewives found ourselves in a quandary of sorts. Here in Israel, Shabbat came immediately after the last day of Passover, which is a holiday in itself with the usual HolyDay-"holiday" restrictions. One of those is that cooking is supposed to be for the holiday's enjoyment and not to stock up for later on, even the immediate Shabbat. I guess you can plan on eating leftovers all Shabbat, but that is an insult to the Holy Day.

So Chazal, Our Sages, came up with  Eruv Tavshilin- עירוב תבשילין, which is prepared before the HolyDay, two types of cooked food, specially blessed and put aside for the last Shabbat meal. 

I baked up one of my "bake and serve" one pot vegetable meals, and then I "crowned it" with a slice of matzah.  And before putting it in the fridge, I said the blessing, so all of my Shabbat cooking on the holiday, even something as simple as adding more water to the urn so it would suffice for Shabbat was permitted and kosher.

Of course, none of this will help in a month plus when we have Shavuot coming after Shabbat, since Shabbat is holier, more restrictive than the HolyDay Shavuot. Since then we won't be able to start heating up any of the food on Shabbat for Shavuot, I'm thinking of serving a version of bagels, lox, cream cheese and salad.

When the second day of a holiday falls on Shabbat, as it does this year, or if Shabbat falls immediately after a holiday, it is rabbinically forbidden to cook or bake on the holiday in preparation for Shabbat. Eruv tavshilin is a ritual that, when performed, permits preparation for Shabbat during a holiday. It is interesting to note that there is no prohibition from the Torah to cook or bake during a holiday for Shabbat, and the two reasons given for the allowance are based on the following possibilities:
Either: (a) Shabbat and holidays are considered to be the same day. Since the holidays are referred to as Sabbaths in the Torah, the permission to cook and bake during the holiday is thereby associated with the preparations necessary for Shabbat during the holiday; or (b) in the event of the arrival of unexpected guests, one would need to prepare extra food for the holiday, and Shabbat, by extension, would benefit from these extra preparations.
Why then, if the Torah permits the preparation of food on the holiday for Shabbat, do we need the eruv tavshilin as dictated by the rabbis? Tractate Beitzah offers two explanations for eruv tavshilin. The first is based on the concern of the rabbis of Talmudic times that the needs of Shabbat would be overlooked on occasions when a holiday precedes it, thus they created a unique and tangible preparation for Shabbat that must be attended to before the start of the holiday. The second thought is that rabbis were concerned that by permitting food preparations for Shabbat during a holiday without having a formalized reminder of the exclusivity afforded to Shabbat’s preparations, one might come to make preparations for the subsequent weekdays during the holiday as well. The Torah strictly prohibits preparation for secular days during a holiday or on Shabbat. (OU-Kosher)

Jewish Mourning: Got Up From Shiva Before My Father was Buried

my father and I

All in all, there's nothing more humane, suitable for us humans than the Jewish Laws of Mourning. Sometimes things may seem a bit peculiar, such as the fact that I ended up not only sitting shiva (observing the traditional week-long mourning period) before my father was actually buried, but I ended it before his actual funeral.

my mother and I

What was this based on? You may be wondering. Everything I did was as per the instructions of our local rabbi, Rabbi Elchanan Ben-Nun. What I will write here is all layman style; I do not know on which halachot and tshuvot etc. anything was based on. But I must say that none of this was actually surprising or new to me. Sitting shiva before the funeral takes place is common when family members are separated by great distances or can't travel for other reasons.

After my sister called, the Tuesday morning before Passover, 11 Nissan, that our father had passed away, immediately after notifying my husband and kids I contacted Rav Elchanan. In that very first message to him I made it clear that I would not be traveling to New York for the funeral, nor was I involved with the logistics of the funeral and transporting my father from Arizona to NY. He responded that I should be prepared to sit shiva "immediately." "Immediately" did not mean that very minute, but when he'd make it over to my house in a couple of hours. In the meantime I should arrange to have someone available to do "kri'ah," make the first cut in my ritual ripping of shirt I was wearing, and while waiting I could continue with pre-Passover cleaning etc.

By the time the Rav came over, a few friends knew including the one I had chosen for the "first cut." I had done that for her a number a years ago when her own father had died. She, too, had sat shiva at home with her children in attendance, while the funeral was abroad.

At the same time I was making preparations to sit shiva, nobody was even sure when my father's funeral would be. It was in the middle of the night Arizona time, and American funerals, even Jewish ones, are not all that soon after death. Jewish Law requires that the body should be returned to the ground and soon as possible, generally the same day. Waiting to be buried is considered as making the dead person "suffer."

In Israel our guess was that my father's funeral would be either late Thursday or on Friday. Please don't forget that Friday night began Passover, and the Pesach Seder would be then.

According to Jewish Law, the major holidays, such as Passover, stop shiva, so I knew that I'd be finished Friday early afternoon, and I also knew that even if my father was buried Friday afternoon, the shiva would be very short, possibly counted in minutes only. That is what happened when my mother's mother had died sixty-four 64 years ago.

When Rav Elchanan came over, he supervised the kri'ah and told me that the actual shiva would only begin when I got notice that my father was in the hands of the chevra kadish,  the Jewish Mortuary workers. So I asked my sister to notify me. In the meantime I could continue getting ready for Pesach, as if I could concentrate on anything. I asked about the traditional "after the funeral meal" of round food, like eggs and bagels, or pita, and the rabbi said that I did need it. I asked if I could prepare for that, and he said:

"No, that is the job of the neighbors."

So I let them know, and food arrived when needed. My children came during this crazy time and helped get the house ready for shiva. Once I got notice from my sister, the shiva began for me. And due to the difference in time between New York and Israel, I was already "up" and ready for Passover before my father's New York funeral began.

I am grateful that in this modern world with cellphones and internet I knew immediately that he had passed away, because not all that long ago communication took longer, much longer. If notice of a death is over a month after the fact, then there is only a short symbolic shiva, which happened to a friend of ours. But that's another story...

At my mother's "unveiling." They have a double stone, which has been "waiting" for my father to rejoin her.

I hope that this clarifies things for those who haven't heard how Jewish Mourning can work when not all live in the same area. Please consult with an Orthodox Jewish Rabbi when confronted with such situations.