Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive
I've got all my life to live, I've got all my love to give
And I'll survive, I will survive, I will survive
Hard to imagine, I know.
I made a list of the things that bug me (I like lists).
10. I hate cooking.
Just because I've been blessed to live in a country where the majority are celebrating the same holidays I am, and I don't have to take extra time off of work because vacation time is automatic, and everyone has to go to the supermarket and stock up because, in accordance to both the Law of the Land and the Law of God, those supermarkets are closed on the holidays that I and most other citizens are celebrating and everyone has to eat a lot of food all the time (because, you know), and the farmers cannot keep up with carrot production for all the soup, and tzimmis, and kugel that is being made, or the chickens with their needed eggs for the thousands of cakes that are being made across the Land, because, after all, we're all in this together.
Where was I?
Oh yes, my house. Which is full of people. Why is it full of people? Who need to eat. Like three meals a day. Which seems unreasonable.
Just because I'm blessed to have all my kids and their cousins and family and things relatively close by, and they bring cake or ice cream when they come, and they all get along relatively well, and there is lots of laughing and teasing going on, and the big kids play football on the grass with the little kids because the weather is warm and it's not raining or snowing (which can happen you know) or when it is too warm outside (that can happen too), they all play with Lego on the big dining room table, (with or without the little kids), and we think about taking pictures because it's not often that all the kids are together anymore, but nobody does because everyone groans when the cameras come out, and the teasing begins again, and they all pose for silly mug shots, and my eyes tear because seeing them all together does that.
But, oof. I hate cooking. Nothing is going to change that. Even the grandkids who come and ask for Savta's challah, and Savta's chicken, and Savta's soup, and good lord, I'm a SAVTA????!!!, where has the time gone?
Probably wasted most of it in the supermarket looking for carrots.
In the end, of course, I survived.
And today, when I went shopping, there were lots of carrots in the stores, right in time to make soup for Shabbat.