Subject to change due to constraints of time!

Dessert gaps to be filled, depending on preferences of  dessert-making team.

We eat simanim for the starter on both nights:

Apples and honey

Dates, pomegranates, (gefilte) fish, fish head, carrots (grated carrot salad), beetroot (grated salad) cabbage (coleslaw), butternut squash kugel.

1^st night

Chicken soup

Chicken with honey and apples – something like this

Roast new potatoes

?Peas, ?Broccoli

Apple cake, Chocolate Mousse

1^st lunch

?Beef and barley soup

 Braised steak

 Mashed potato

 Sweet and sour red cabbage

2^nd night

 Vegetable soup

 Turkey roast – 1 white and 1 dark turkey roll, sliced before yomtov, so that they heat up quickly

 Roast pumpkin and rice salad

 Vibrant green beans

 Potatoes of some sort

 Apple crumble and honeycomb icecream

2^nd lunch

Middle-eastern feel – Moroccan carrots, courgette dip, aubergine salad

Loubia (black eyed beans) with lamb

Couscous, salad

Friday night

Gravlax with dill and mustard/honey sauce

Chicken soup

Chicken, potato kugel

Yerushalmi kugel

Red cabbage, green beans in tomato sauce

Shabbos lunch

Egg mayonnaise, cruditees

Cholent, salt beef (turkey if there is any left)

Salads

Cake, icecream 

Seuda shelishis

Not a lot of time for this, as there’s the Shabbos shuva drasha in shul, but we’ll probably manage either cake or challah and something

I’ve made honey challohs from Classic Kosher Cooking and brown challoh from Spice and Spirit, flavoured with garlic, herbs and onions.  Hat-tip to Rebbetzin Rabi who demonstrated how to get nice even “sausages” for plaiting or coiling, by rolling dough flat with rolling pin then rolling into sausage.  Also  her attractive tip to slash the sausage about half-way down, before coiling.

Wishing all readers a kesiva v’chasima tova – may you be inscribed for a wonderful, healthy and peaceful year!

Yesterday I was privileged to attend a remarkable event.  Chana, the community’s infertility support organization, held its annual brunch in a local park.  About 400 women enjoyed a buffet lunch, with a fresh coffee bar, in a huge marquee. An incredibly brave woman spoke about her struggle to have children, bringing many of the audience to tears and one of the Chana staff made the appeal, giving a vivid description of the decisions which have to be made by the rabbinic leadership of Chana, who have to make the awful ( in the original “full of awe” sense)  choice, in the event that there are not enough funds, of which couples they should assist financially with treatments. 

The main speaker was Rabbi Shlomo Farhi, of Aish UK, whom I have never heard speak before.  He spoke extremely well, managing to combine Torah, emotion, humour and inspiration.  His theme was that God runs the entire world and how  important it is that we recognise that we have no control over any facet of our lives.  To illustrate this, he told the most amazing story:

Some years ago, when Rabbi and Mrs Farhi were newly married, they went to a family gathering on 4^th July at the home of his aunt and uncle.  They lived on the 30^th floor of an apartment block in Manhattan and the family enjoyed the wonderful fireworks exploding, literally, all around them.  When it was time to go home, they opened the door and saw that the whole block was trying to leave at the same time, so the young couple decided to stay for a while, while the rest of his family battled their way through the crowds and set off for home in the people carrier. 

An hour or so later, the Farhis left to go home.  As they were driving along, they saw the family people carrier ahead of them on the highway.  Rabbi Farhi was rather surprised that it had taken his father so long to get to this point on the journey, but pulled alongside him and hooted and waved to say hello.  His father hooted and waved back and they both continued their journeys home. 

The next morning, Rabbi Farhi met his father in shul and asked him, “Abba, how come it took you so long to get home last night?”  His father responded, “How do you know how long it took me?”

Rabbi Farhi was rather surprised and said, “Didn’t you recognise me when I pulled alongside you and waved?”

Hearing this, his father went completely white and said, “That was you??  I’d better tell you what happened:  Last night, on the way home, I felt myself dozing off at the wheel, when suddenly someone hooted and it woke me up.  I hooted back and waved to thank this person.”

At this point, Rabbi Farhi also went completely white, as he realised how short the time frame is between when a person dozes off at the wheel and when he loses control of the car.  He had had the merit of saving the lives of his parents and all his siblings!  The precision necessary for the two cars to coincide at just that moment is immense – an incredible example of Divine Providence.

Of course, as with all these stories there are undoubtedly counter stories in which bad things happen because a person “just happened” to be there at a particular instant, but this story sent a shiver down my spine and I thought it was worth sharing.

Trying to get in an “Elul” frame of mind, I have had a few experiences in the last few days which have made an impact on me.

Yesterday, I had a meeting at which three people were writing down everything I said.  This is unusual for me, as usually I am the one doing the writing, but it was a powerful reminder of the mishna in Pirkei Avos (Ethics of the Fathers) which says:  “Contemplate three things, and you will not come to the hands of transgression: Know what is above from you: a seeing eye, a listening ear, and all your deeds being inscribed in a book.”

Earlier in the week, while dropping the children off at school, we encountered a Traffic Jam.  I’m writing it with capitals because it was like a scenario from the game.*  The school, as I have mentioned before is on the corner of a T-junction and the management enforce a one way system down the stem of the T at drop-off/pick-up times, for parents.  Of course, this does not apply to members of the public, although I suspect that neighbours either stay out of the way for those 20 minutes or also only go one way.  However, the other day, a large lorry was making its way up the road in the opposite direction, and causing a lot of congestion while doing so.  I let the children out of the car a short way from the corner, as did a lot of other parents, but we still had to get our cars out of the area.  One kind father who had walked his children to school took on the role of the player and tried to direct the traffic to enable the lorry to get out of the jam, while the security guard ensured that all the children reached the school safely.  It is always fascinating when these hold-ups occur to see how, while some people are prepared to wait, and let other vehicles through into gaps, other people always assume that the people in front don’t have a clue and are just sitting there randomly, so that the best thing to do is to jump the queue, block the space and cause more congestion.  While I was watching several people do this, it occurred to me that this is like an allegory for life.  We can’t see the bigger picture and realise that sometimes we might have to wait, or even reverse, to enable traffic to run smoothly. Instead, we jump forwards, taking advantage of spaces that should have remained empty and rather than experiencing a easy passage through a challenge, we end up in a worse situation than before.  

* Turns out I meant Rush Hour and Traffic Jam is an onlive version, which I'm not linking to!

On Thursday evening I went to two very different events, both focussing on the importance of Jewish education.

A large crowd gathered in our road in the early evening for the levaya of our neighbour, a well known talmid chacham and Torah teacher. One of the speakers said that although he was a businessman, he learned enough hours in the day to put many full time kollel men to shame. When the rabbi, another neighbour, began by observing that shortly we will be saying “U’nesaneh tokef” with the awe inspiring “who will live and who will die”, and  who would have imagined that when we said it  last year, we would be standing here now at this levaya, a shiver spread across the whole crowd. The 3 people who spoke: the rabbi, a son and a brother, all emphasised the deceased’s love of learning and teaching, while at the same time, showing his normality.  His son said that every week, he would take orders from his numerous grandchildren for what Shabbos treat they would like.  He would go and buy the treats, then pack them up in labelled  bags and deliver them before Shabbos.  When I told this to my daughter, a friend of his granddaughter, she smiled and said, “Yes, I’ve seen that.”

I rushed from the levaya to an event in honour of Jewish schools, organised by the Jewish Leadership Council, attended by about 200 key players in Jewish education, from primary to post graduate level.  It was a stylish and original evening and emphasised the important place that Jewish schools have in our community today.  The Minister for Schools, Nick Gibb pledged the Government’s continuing support for faith schools, and the Chief Rabbi and Daniel Finkelstein spoke both wittily and movingly about Jewish education in their respective families.  It was a very positive event, and a welcome upbeat antidote to the earlier sadness.   

I think the key unifying factor of both events was the difference that one person can make, to his own life, the life of his family and the life of the community. Maybe this is a suitable Elul thought to take with us into a new working week.

One of the themes of the yomim noraim is the transitory nature of life.  This really spoke to me today.  We have the decorators in at the moment and although they seem to be doing a good job and are containing the mess, there are still 4 Hungarians in my lounge, smoking outside the front door and playing pop music on their radio.  The downstairs of the house and all the things we left lying around are wrapped up in plastic and there is a large patch of wall missing on the staircase.  I have been consoling myself that the builders are only here for a couple of  weeks. Gam zeh ya’avor – this too shall pass.

Hiding out in the kitchen and enjoying eating brunch with our baby, I realised that this is the last year that we will be able to do this.  Next year, iy”H, he will be in nursery and I will have no children at home during the day.  Last time this happened, when our six year old began nursery, by the time I had got over the excitement of some mornings to myself, I had discovered I was expecting our baby, so although I didn’t actually have a child at home, I wasn’t really on my own.  It’s not very likely the same thing will happen this time, so this is really the last time to revel in baby focussed activities, like having a little cuddle aka nap when we are both tired. Although it will be good to be able to drink a whole cup of  tea by myself and not have to share it with someone, I was quite sad when I realised that when we say “gam zeh ya’avor”,  it’s not only challenges that will pass, but also good times.

Our holiday in France was followed by a trip to Yorkshire for a conference.  Since I wasn't actually involved but only came with for the ride, it was an opportunity for a last couple of outings before the return to school.  I took the younger 5 children to Nostell Priory, where we found a great adventure playground and and a good walk round the lake and through the gardens. The next day, we both took our twins and baby to the National Coal Mining Museum, which was very interesting, and where my husband and the twins were able to go underground into a mine.  The weekend was only marred by having the previous three weeks' accidents compressed into 3 days, culminating in the discovery of what happens if a 6 year old eats 7 cheese triangles and then complains of a stomach ache before going to bed...I don't think the mattress will ever be the same again!

Now back to the computer and checking in on my favourite blogs, I discovered #BlogElul, which sounded like an interesting idea.  Today is the first day that our school children are all back in school and it's pouring with rain here.  I had hoped to be able to write something about getting off to a good start in sunshine etc, but it's actually more like, it's just as well they are in school because otherwise they would be stuck in the house. I was thinking the other day about how the academic and Jewish years (at least in the Northern hemisphere) begin at around the same time, so that Elul and Rosh Hashana and their opportunities for  self development and turning over a new leaf tie in very well with the potential for the same in school.  We have three children beginning the next stage of their education this week and it's very exciting.  I'm sure there will be ups and downs, but as one of the teachers at the new secondary school pointed out - this is a great opportunity to begin again: none of the teachers and most of the pupils know who you are; if you had a bad reputation or were naughty in primary school, it can all be left behind.  Sounds like a good metaphor for the yomim noraim to me - and changing schools is probably much easier than doing teshuva!