Only a Click Away

14 Tamuz 5779.

Through Vacation-Colored Glasses, by Dani

The hardest thing about making aliyah is, of course, being separated from friends and family.

Thanks to technology, we can at least talk inexpensively (and even for free!): Internet phone lines, various forms of "face time," Whatsapp and other instant messaging platforms have replaced long-distance phone calls and email... which long ago replaced handwritten letters for most people. (Disclaimer: I admire those of you who still write letters and postcards. They are beautiful and meaningful, and can be treasured in the special teak-and-ivory box I save for the purpose. But I'm part of the say-it-and-send-it-now crowd, unashamedly.)

Life is busy. Making time to be in touch, especially for those temperamentally of few words, can be challenging. While some of us in the family chatter away on one or another of our various Whatsapp groups, others have been more reticent. We miss them; and while we respect their need for a little less communication, we long to hear their voices.

I'd like to give credit to my far-away (for now) son, Josh, for his brilliant contest that has created a solution for our family.

Unexpected Blossoms, by Sima

Josh knows we are a family of quips and quotations, and that we love a good competition. He designed the "Eastman Pic Challenge" on Whatsapp as a means of enhancing our family communication.

The rules -- at least before each week's evolution -- are fairly simple. Each person can submit up to five photos to the Whatsapp group each week. They can be about anything except family members (and especially kids), because it's no fair using family to sway votes. If the caption is clever, it can increase the points.

Legoscape, by Michelle

Each week's winner gets to choose next week's theme; and while the photographer doesn't have to stick to the theme, more points are available for thematic shots. At the end of the week, everyone gets to vote for first, second and third place (and on heavy-participation weeks, even fourth and fifth place), and an honorable mention. Abba and I frequently cheat here and vote for multiples; but that's the benefit of being old. AHIP: Age Has Its Privileges.

Nostalgic, by Josh

Josh calls himself the Arbitrary Arbitrator, meaning that he gets the final say about the vote tally, and how the rules will change.

We are used to this: Josh declared at the age of five that his life career goal was to be a benevolent dictator. Also, he spent his entire childhood creating amazing board games and role-playing games for his brothers.



All of the brothers changed the rules to games such as Monopoly, Risk, Life... and their friends tolerated and loved the changes in equal measure.

Nature's Nesting Doll, by David

But the Arbitrary Arbitrator arbitrates with the assistance of some fairly sophisticated tech program algorithm... and honestly, we don't care. Somebody is going to win a bottle of something... and will no doubt share. (If he or she lives on the other side of the pond, we'll just have to share virtual l'chayims. Like I said -- we'll work it out.) When the contest ends, Josh plans to make a book of the favored shots for family members to have and to hold. And knowing this gang, there will be future (and of course, modified) Challenges to come.

The Challenge has all of us looking at the world with more attention to detail.

Soft, by Aryeh

We're seeing things around us as we've never seen them, finding visual secrets to share with each other. We're not just using our cell phones to zone out of what's going on around us. We're using them as a means to engage.

Focused, by Ayala

Why So Cirrius?, by Lowenthology

Best of all, the family is communicating at an unprecedented level. Even the quiet ones are participating more than ever before.

There are no politics. There is gentle teasing, but it's all done in good taste. There's a lot of cheerleading.

Since Josh's in-laws are also in the game, we are getting to know them better. (Gosh, they have wonderful senses of humor! They fit right in.)

I'm not sure what I enjoy more: finding out how each of my family members' minds work, how they see the world around them -- or that they are sharing with each other at an unprecedented level.

Way to go, Josh.

Butterfly Flowers, by Abba

If Life's a Beach, I'll Take It, by Tova

The Ever-Flowing Circle of Life, by Naomi

If you're looking for a way to enhance long-distance family or old friend communication that is not taxing but fun, I recommend your own Whatsapp Pic Challenge.

Best Birthday EVER!

30 Kislev 5778, 1st day Rosh Chodesh Tevet, 6th day of Chanukah.

Not mine. Though my recent 60th was very, very special, thanks to the Dearly Beloved.

Rather, it was that very Dearly Beloved's birthday this past week. The fellow who has spent most of his 69 years worrying more about the happiness of those he loves than striving for his own contentment. I don't think I've ever known anyone who puts other people at the top of the list to such a healthy degree. You have to be very comfortable in your own skin to do that successfully; and Coach is indeed blessed with that extraordinary self-possession.

Four of our sons were in Israel for the birthday party. And they really came up to bat (if my football players will forgive an "unworthy" metaphor). Via Snapfish, they and their lovely brides produced a book of Abba's famous sayings. The book is filled with photographs that remind them of special moments between each of them and Abba, with funny expressions he is given to repeating, and most preciously, with love letters from each of them. (Life hack: If you want to tell that special someone that they do, indeed, matter to you very much, don't wait. Write that letter now. You cannot know the power of your heartfelt words.) Each son or daughter-in-law read passages of the book, to much laughter. And tears of love flowed when they each read their own letters aloud.

My contribution was the best photo ever (IMHO) of Coach.

After we finished drying our eyes and congratulating each other, I brought out the last gift: a painting by our very talented friend, Steven Seward. I don't think anyone has captured my dear best friend as well as Steven did. He has not just talent but wisdom: since his work had to be done without a model and with an ocean between us, he asked for several photos from which to choose. After perusing them, he told me he wanted to use the one that would make Avi happiest: the one with his bride in the picture. Smart guy, this portrait artist! (Kudos and gratitude to his lovely bride, Caryn Good Seward, for facilitating so much of this project.)

We look forward to celebrating many, many birthdays together, please God. But this year's birthdays have certainly reminded us that the best gift of all is the love of our humans.

Chag Urim sameach. Keep adding light to the world!

Special thanks to my daughters-in-love for hosting a wonderful Shabbat birthday celebration, with delicious food, comfy sleeping arrangements, and grandchildren, bli ayin hara, puh-puh-puh!

Interested in contacting Steven for the commission of a portrait? You can visit his website to view his portfolio at http://stevensewardportraits.com/. I'm always happy to make a shidduch.

Winter Cold and Mushroom Barley Soup

Yom revi'i, 7 Shevat 5774.

It's been about a month since Snowfesh Hagadol, the big snowstorm of 2013.

Being snowed in for a few days has long been a favorite Eastman tradition; and it is always a pleasure to be able to recreate this rare experience in the Holy Land. Rather than suffering "cabin fever," as many people do, we enjoy being locked up together, with no particular place to go.

I did say "well-used," yes? Click to embiggen.

There is also the opportunity to make delicious soups, more welcome even than in normal cold weather. During the storm, I decided to pull out my trusty and well-used Moosewood Cookbook (1977), by Mollie Katzen, and make her Mushroom-Barley Soup, a favorite of all my guys.

Over the years, I've learned many tricks about cooking, from -- among others -- my mother, and from my friend  Marc Gottlieb (who is a chef de cuisine and fellow blogger).

Mama taught me about choosing mushrooms, and about how to prepare them. Fresh mushrooms still have closed caps. (You can certainly still use mushrooms once the caps have begun to open; but they are nicest when still closed.) She taught me not to wash mushrooms, lest the water cause them to break down and get mushy. Rather, she recommended peeling the mushrooms to expose the lovely white flesh underneath. Marc and I disagree about the necessity for this -- but sometimes tradition wins out.

Marc taught me a wonderful little secret about garlic. Every year at Pesach time, I buy bunches of fresh garlic at the shuk, and hang them outside to dry. In the past, I would throw away the long stalk, and only use the head of the garlic. But tucked away inside the stalk are several little "baby garlics," quite intense in flavor and -- let's face it -- adorable.

Hidden gold, and worth the effort.

Who would have thought garlic could be cute?

So putting the soup together is straightforward, but photo-worthy.

I have not yet found dry sherry in Israel; so I settle for dry white wine.

This kashrut symbol delights me, as it points out that the factory is Sabbath-observant.

A chance to show off a favorite invention: the French butter keeper. The butter stays fresh and spreadable, on the counter. Every once in a while, I understand Julia Child's fascination with French cookery.

Another tool I love. Besides mincing everything from garlic to herbs to nuts beautifully, this curved board and blade are very cathartic. Ask all of the seminary girls who've come to my kitchen and methodically chopped their anxieties to bits.

Sauté onion in butter. Add garlic.

Now it's time for the mushrooms. (Do I hear my Dearly Beloved in the background? "But there's not mush room in the pan..." Yes, his jokes are old. But he is such a fun guy.)

This soup is great "as is" -- but a little grated Parmesan makes it perfect.

And à la La Child -- don't forget the nice, crisp white wine.

 A month ago, I rewarded the Dearly Beloved for cleaning the thirty-three steps down to our apartment of ice with a nice, hot bowl of soup. (Note to self: never take for granted that your husband is easy to please.)

Taking out all the recycling in that weather earned him seconds. (Thank you, dear friend.)

I love warm, sunny weather. I love spring breezes and crisp autumn chill. I love winter, with its time for solitude and introspection, getting close and warming ourselves over hot soup and warm friendship.

Yesterday, I got the pleasure of making the soup again for very special friends, my mechutenet, and for my friend and fellow blogger Shprintz. (You can check out her heartwarming posts about the Israel she loves and misses at her blog Remember Jerusalem, dedicated to her dear father, "Avraham Shalom ben Chaim Yoel, a"h, whose flair for photography, penchant for prose and love of the Land inspire" her blog.

My bracha to all of us: May we share many bowls of soup, over long, healthy, happy years... right here in Israel.

Mollie's Mushroom-Barley Soup ingredients

Glossary:
Snowfesh Hagadol: An invented term, "the great snow vacation." The word for vacation is "chofesh." Some clever wag pointed out that the snow was giving us a big vacation, a "snowfesh" gadol.
Kashrut: kosher, according to Jewish dietary laws
Mechutenet: This word does not exist in English. It means "my married child's spouse's mother." But it's not referring to my son's relationship with his mother-in-law. That word would be "chotenet" or "chamot." What makes this designation unique is that it refers to my relationship with my son's mother-in-law. Cool, eh?

Inaugural Post: For My Mama, a"h

Yom chamishi, 16 Tevet 5774.

Mama, in Washington DC, 1993

December is my mother's month.

She was born today, 76 years ago. Christmas was her favorite holiday, with Halloween a close second. (If you do not know me, and you are not a regular reader of my blogs, you will not have known that I was not born Jewish. Story later.) She was not religious, probably not even a Christian -- though she believed in God -- but she loved color and light and the kindness people dust off and bring out during this holiday season. She was a snowdrift and snowflake lover, with the good sense to know the value of a warm fire and a cup of mulled cider. She loved good food and good company. She knew a little bit about a lot of things, had a remarkable native wisdom, and a beautiful singing voice, which her grandchildren have inherited.

I have been writing since I was a child. I started blogging several years ago, mostly at Ki Yachol Nuchal!," all about making aliyah to Israel. It has been such a pleasure to write that blog, to explore, with you, my new life in this land. I have also written several posts for the Times of Israel, using the device "To my dear sons" -- advice about marriage and child-rearing, thinly disguised as advice for my children (so people would perhaps be less likely to think me pompous).

I have pretty much said what I needed to say in the first forum, and have felt a bit constrained by the latter. Lately I've been wanting to create a new blog, without boundaries, so I could say whatever is on my mind, without a specific format. If it gets too far afield, I suspect you will let me know.

This must have been around 1970, in California.

It mattered to me to have a starting date for this new project. I thought that honoring Mama would be a good beginning, as she was my beginning, and a good story in her own right. By honoring her, I also hope to honor my sisters and brother, who fulfilled her desire of absolutely being their own selves -- diametrically different, completely unique -- but tied together by a deep desire to continue as family, no matter what. She would have been proud, I think, of the way they and their children and their children are turning out. I know that I am.

She loved costumes and makeup. She also loved Purim!

Like the previous blogs, this blog will have stories unique to Israel, and advice about raising kids and staying happily married. I've lived more than a half a century, and I have learned some things; so it seems worthwhile to share. I have a ton to learn; and if you're with me on the journey, we can make discoveries together. Because there is no specific format, the stories and advice will have history and recipes and rages (no doubt) and maybe even a few things I've never been brave enough before to explore in written form: questions about God, about Judaism, about the philosophy of being human.

Please give me your bracha, your blessing, for success.

Mama's cane, and a photo of my son and his son, next to a photo of Mama and me.

Mama, my prayer is that we make you proud. You so deserve to be proud of your work in this world!