The afternoon of Passover

 I really liked the previous post. Writing about food and holiday atmosphere felt normal again. When I write about missiles and alarms I feel a bit like a victim, and I don't like it, but it's the reality I can't ignore. Still, I felt really good when it seemed like I could pretend everything was okay again.                                               Even the troll who a few days ago wished me that my grandchildren would die in war and threatened me that they would come back to eliminate me too, also wrote one comment, something about the government, I don't really read everything he or she writes, before I delete, but he or she was quieter than ever.

I decided that I would only write about good, positive things, I sat down and read John Gray's blog and almost had time to write a comment and then the following thing happened-                                                                  My son, who is a subscriber to some Telegram group that announces the launch of missiles from Yemen before the alarms, came and said that we should go to the shelter because a missile had launched from Yemen. It was about five minutes before and saved us the running. I left John's blog and walked with him more or less leisurely to the shelter. We went down the twenty steps underground, and sat on the white plastic chairs. In the meantime, he called some neighbors and informed them that an alarm had been set off. The elderly neighbors had no way to get to the shelter quickly and there were no protected rooms in the house, but it's always good to know in advance.                                                                                                     And indeed the alarm came after five minutes. First came to the shelter the dog Bella, who always makes sure to run first, crying and scared and just wants to be petted and that's what we do. Then the family of young athletes with their small children.

We are supposed to wait ten minutes in the shelter after the alarm because that's when the fragments of the interceptor missiles fall in our area. Since these are ballistic missiles, their fragments are the size of a regular missile, and that's definitely unpleasant.                                                                                                            We did wait the ten minutes, and then I went back to writing the comment on John's blog.

Our Passover

 This was our table yesterday. We decided to celebrate Passover a day early, because we still count our steps at night. Today is the real day of the holiday and we know who likes to interrupt us, so we decided to be clever and it was excellent.

The table was simple, but everything was delicious. The wonderful roast was prepared by the 13-year-old grandson, and it felt like an experienced grandmother had cooked it.                                                                           The "gefilte fish" which is actually traditional fish patties in a sweet sauce, a favorite dish only for me and my daughter, was bought in advance in jars, because we no longer have grandmothers to make it, but it tasted as if they had made it.                                                                                                           There was also chopped liver that my daughter made, excellent and delicious as we remembered from previous years, and of course matzot, which is the "bread" of Passover, thin, crispy and dry. Some love it and some really suffer from the idea that you have to eat it on Passover. We eat everything and therefore love it too. It was pleasant and happy and delicious.