tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75901633807801561042024-02-07T08:19:25.299+02:00Midlife PanacheRachel Selbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13113411205306116614noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7590163380780156104.post-84944819891846524002021-07-03T13:54:00.006+03:002021-07-03T13:54:34.690+03:00Views on the News 3.7.21 - All Round Denial<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN9rrbCdmPu2Do2ZK1RliNB4JVBRgKPbQPY3L-cjOXGAe2guuNaCsEQ2swI30hZvre4ZSiXpK-nw3eohFSvIaUa4tSFwhPCbiIx-FHkRXidDsyo5Ks7zNBO5_3pLhmnqAmFEo8hn_1Bq8/s2048/20210703_133536_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1621" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN9rrbCdmPu2Do2ZK1RliNB4JVBRgKPbQPY3L-cjOXGAe2guuNaCsEQ2swI30hZvre4ZSiXpK-nw3eohFSvIaUa4tSFwhPCbiIx-FHkRXidDsyo5Ks7zNBO5_3pLhmnqAmFEo8hn_1Bq8/w316-h400/20210703_133536_HDR.jpg" width="316" /></a></div><b>Three news items this week made me think about facing the truth and how it's often easier to pin the blame on something other than the whole truth.</b> <p></p><p><b>Firstly, Canadians</b> pulling down the statues of Queen Victoria and Queen Elizabeth II in protest because the Catholic Church kidnapped native Canadian children, now known as First Nation, and put them into Catholic schools where they made them speak only English and cut off all ties with their families and traditions. As if this wasn't bad enough, mass graves of a total of 1000 First Nation children have been found in the vicinity of these school "orphanages". Which would suggest that there are many more as yet undiscovered graves.</p><p>I understand the anger. I get it that it was colonialsim that invaded Canada, and the whole of the Americas, and tried to eradicate the First Nation completely.</p><p>The treatment of the First Nation from the 19th Century right up until the 1970s was atrocious. The mass graves of children give absolute proof of the racist oppression. I understand the anger. I would be angry. I also understand that anger being vented on colonialism. I don't really care that the statues of the two queens were toppled and destroyed, despite the fact that neither queen is, was, nor ever has been Catholic. </p><p>Agreed that Catholism came to Canada with the colonists, even if it did come largely with the French. Seriously, topple away at any symbol of colonialism if it makes you feel better. But don't deny the fact that the people who actually carried out these horrific murders of First Nation children, were the near ancestors of many present day, white Canadians and not Queen Elizabeth in the UK. </p><p><b>About the unnamed idiot</b> who caused mass injuries on the Tour de France by stepping out in front of the cyclists to hold up a greeting sign and have it be broadcast on television. </p><p>The next day it was announced that she'd fled the scene, was being hunted down by the police, and could face up to a year in jail. With such wide media coverage, it was only amatter of time until she was found. So after a couple of days in hiding, she did the only thing left to do and turned herself in to the local police. </p><p>The woman is devastated, ashamed, and deeply sorry. Obviously. It was a stupid thng to do and she made a massive, humiliating for her, expensive and potentially life threatening mistake. I read all this in the newspaper and it seems to be an accurate description of the event. So far so acceptable. </p><p>But then, her her lawyer said, "it took her a couple of days to realise what had happened as a result of her action." Rubbish! She realised instantly what she had done, which is why she fled the scene and tried to hide. If you're truly sorry then own up to all of it. Don't try to mitigate your actions by lying about what came next. Either you're sorry for all of it or you claim that some of your behaviour wasn't your fault. By wriggling out of some of it in this way, you have given up any bit of respect you could have retained for owning the mistake and repenting. (Btw, while a year in jail is not helpful imo, a few hundred hours of community service would go a long way.)</p><p><b>And finally, Harry. </b>Whilst in the UK to unveil the statue of his mother, he appeared at a charity event for children. (was this an official Royal visit? I hope not.) He seemed to be his old jolly self and made every effort to show the cameras how good he still is at these sorts of public duties. I couldn't help wondering if he really wanted to be there. Was he just grinning and bearing it because that's the job? </p><p>At the unveiling itself, after they'd pulled away the covering, Harry walked towards William with open arms and a big smile, as if he wanted a big hug between brothers to show the world they have reconciled. William wasn't playing into that manipulitive move. He was not going to be used for Harry's back-in-the-fold agenda. </p><p>Here's the thing. I hope William and Harry, and Charles, make up. I hope they are able to move forward with love and forgiveness because families are precious. However, the British people don't owe Harry anything. We do not want him to represent us in any way, shape or form. He should live in harmony with his family, but he resigned as a working Royal. If he thinks he can undo the damage he has done by saying by-gones but not sorry, he's in big denial. And even if he is sorry... too late mate. </p><p>The irony is that Harry's only qualification is being good at mixing with the public in a warm and engaging way. As long as he read the speeches written for him, he was perfect for the job of being a Royal. He gave up the one thing he could do well with no viable plan B. </p>Rachel Selbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13113411205306116614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7590163380780156104.post-12106080458107799152021-05-11T13:47:00.023+03:002021-05-20T01:38:29.816+03:00Decent Pyjamas and Slip-on Shoes, Just in Case<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8D7tv0RrenNeCEtdgSUmpZWHnl9s_A8YI39TPfMwp1yxKd-n2wvOZCgnYorFSF2Py6K7nrBKGz0R9C1Rnl4opOaohO1Ou-8bOOuVXPZwZfHb-_ubYoxw2XUNevnEeYSH6hqqJw878WXI/s1600/IMG-20190203-WA0002.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8D7tv0RrenNeCEtdgSUmpZWHnl9s_A8YI39TPfMwp1yxKd-n2wvOZCgnYorFSF2Py6K7nrBKGz0R9C1Rnl4opOaohO1Ou-8bOOuVXPZwZfHb-_ubYoxw2XUNevnEeYSH6hqqJw878WXI/w400-h300/IMG-20190203-WA0002.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Yesterday evening the sirens sounded over Jerusalem. I'm not going into the politics of who, what or why - this post is purely about our responses. <p></p><p>I, along with all my neighbours, emerged onto the balcony where we chatted about what could possibly be happening. Was it a drill? A mistake? Who knows? </p><p>Suddenly we heard the booms of exploding missiles and we realized that this wasn't a drill or a mistake. "OMG!" We dashed for cover. I ran into the apartment and called out, "DD down to the shelter, NOW!" DD came racing out of her bedroom as I fumbled with the lock on the front door. </p><p>Of course once the Iron Domes had intercepted and exploded the missiles before they made impact, it was all over and the sirens stopped before I'd even got the front door open. </p><p>Here in Jerusalem we're out of the habit of thinking about the sirens except for announcing the beginning of Shabbat (when they are much quieter), minutes of silence on memorial days, drills, and the occasional error. </p><p>Back in the days of the second intifada, now almost 20 years ago, even a door slamming would make me jump with fright. When I'm visiting my friends on their kibbutz near the border with Gaza, I know that a siren means: Run for cover! I expect it. They live with it. </p><p>So there we were, with seven rockets fired on Jerusalem, speeding through the skies in our direction, all standing on our balconies to chat about the warning sirens. It reminded me of one of Rudyard Kipling's Epitaphs of the War - The Beginner.</p><p>Afterwards we laughed at ourselves but it wasn't funny. How many wars and attacks have we lived through and yet we behaved like beginners? It was a lesson in complacency. Next time we hear sirens we run to the bomb shelter and ask questions later. </p><p>Last night DD and I both wore decent pyjamas and put easy to slip on shoes by our beds. </p><p><span class="sm-caps" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 20px; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-indent: -1em; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span class="sm-caps" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 20px; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-indent: -1em; vertical-align: baseline;">the beginner</span><span face="adobe-garamond-pro" style="background-color: white; font-size: 20px; text-indent: -1em;"> </span></p><div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: adobe-garamond-pro; font-size: 20px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 1em; text-align: center; text-indent: -1em; vertical-align: baseline;">On the first hour of my first day <br /></div><div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: adobe-garamond-pro; font-size: 20px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 1em; text-align: center; text-indent: -1em; vertical-align: baseline;"> In the front trench I fell. <br /></div><div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: adobe-garamond-pro; font-size: 20px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 1em; text-align: center; text-indent: -1em; vertical-align: baseline;">(Children in boxes at a play<br /></div><div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: adobe-garamond-pro; font-size: 20px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 1em; text-align: center; text-indent: -1em; vertical-align: baseline;"> Stand up to watch it well.)<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: large; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px;"> </span></div><p><br /></p>Rachel Selbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13113411205306116614noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7590163380780156104.post-80470552942862614202021-04-28T22:05:00.015+03:002021-04-29T16:38:28.217+03:00Goodbye Mr Chips<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqvwq87DZfX_nNAF_-LsObPF3hFa7ZMR1QS4xwiPZTJA2FN3HM9OsFdf4z7NqKKjtTEBdh0oDaUnY7OBfAFUM39z8jt63Z2zDqjemde3M_7qKlVZxajvkGjUqkWPQHtFUjFwAtO7iwNdg/s2048/IMG_20161220_084435.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqvwq87DZfX_nNAF_-LsObPF3hFa7ZMR1QS4xwiPZTJA2FN3HM9OsFdf4z7NqKKjtTEBdh0oDaUnY7OBfAFUM39z8jt63Z2zDqjemde3M_7qKlVZxajvkGjUqkWPQHtFUjFwAtO7iwNdg/w400-h225/IMG_20161220_084435.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>This week I have individual zoom meetings with all my teacher-training students on one course. They need to read an academic article about Classroom Management and tell me about it in English, which is their second or sometimes third or even fourth language (but mostly second). <p></p><p>The article offers a number of tools for creating trust with the class, promoting a good atmosphere, and motvating the pupils. It's a nice article. </p><p>So I'm discussing classroom management with a twenty year old student teacher, and she tells me how films can show good teaching and you can learn a lot from them. She can't remember the name of the film, but she wants to tell me about a great teacher who inspired the students and there is a film about how it was done.</p><p>"Dead Poets' Society?" The student looks at me blankly. Of course, it's way before her time (1989). I'm laughing to myself inside because before I thought of Dead Poets' Society, I really wanted to say, "Good Bye Mr Chips." (1939 - before my time, 1969 - my favourite, and 2002 which I'd forgotten about and anyway, wasn't as good as the 1969 version.)</p><p>I googled it later, and the student was thinking of Freedom Writers (2007). I've not seen this film but I want to. I think back to other inspiring screen teachers of my youth - To Sir With Love springs to mind. I'd like to show it to my students but it would be wasted on them because times have changed so much. Or would it? </p><p>All these films have the same principles at heart. I gave my students an academic article written in 2019, that basically says what we all know about good teachers from watching films about good teachers. (And maybe from once being pupils ourselves.) I don 't remember any of the names of the authors of the inspiring articles I set for this course, but last year I did want to be like Rita, the Swedish teacher from the Netflix series (but without so much sex and no smoking).</p><p>In the age of Google translate, even the EFL powers that be, are turning away from reading comprehension and towards communication. This past year on zoom opened up a whole new way of teaching. When digital replaced print it was easier and much more fun to use video than it was to look at texts. </p><p>However, there's no denying that the personal connection was missing. It was great to return to my primary school last week and enjoy actually being with the pupils. With residual capsules (or bubbles, or pods, or whatever you want to call the smaller class groups) I don't actually have a classroom with a computer screen. So I try to be elements of Mr Chips, and Sidney Poitier, and Robin Williams, and Rita (without the sex and cigarettes), albeit adjusted for 3rd to 6th graders. </p><p>Academia is considered dumbed down if we watch it rather than read it. But only by old school academics who remember screen time as purely recreational. The screen generation has no patience for all the reading we had to do. Why should they when a you can find a personal teacher on You Tube to show and tell you everything? </p><p>So our students and pupils watch role model teachers, teaching in films, when traditional teaching is almost obsolete. As xyz (Einstein?) said, "intelligence is not knowing the answers, it's knowing where to look for them." And where to look for the answers is more and more on a screen rather than in the library - which actually looks more and more like a computer room than a library. </p><p>But maybe it's not good bye Mr Chips after all. The methods have changed but the important characteristices of a good teacher are the same - trust, respect, listening, nurturing, the journey over the grades, leaving your ego at the door, etc...</p><p>The irony is that even Mr Chips emerged from the the original print by James Hilton (1934) and had far greater success on the screen. </p>Rachel Selbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13113411205306116614noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7590163380780156104.post-55072635488337616312021-04-07T23:37:00.015+03:002021-04-08T15:45:10.276+03:00Overheard on the Bus - Holocaust Remembrance Day<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtPHXB0kGOO8PP6ixNxV94dSsh08GVz57JmeZoqamDc5LOey0G5SX55RGWeT-dSy91QfK_3f9HxFMZDHPOriHJA8LncPu-VPSzUDXnq-GoeTHq4bkdcoV_0sRpwoZi2pGi810z_gJJs5o/s2048/IMG_20170116_194046_1.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtPHXB0kGOO8PP6ixNxV94dSsh08GVz57JmeZoqamDc5LOey0G5SX55RGWeT-dSy91QfK_3f9HxFMZDHPOriHJA8LncPu-VPSzUDXnq-GoeTHq4bkdcoV_0sRpwoZi2pGi810z_gJJs5o/s320/IMG_20170116_194046_1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Tonight and tomorrow is <b>Holocaust Remembrance Day</b> in Israel and in the Jewish world. I lit my candle and now I'm going to tell you a story I overheard on the bus from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem in about 1990. I can't be sure of the year but the lady who told the story was about 55 years old so that would fit with her being born in about 1935. My dates are approximate but my memory is clear. The bus was crowded. I had a seat and she was standing next to me in the isle, talking to another woman. She was slim, with wavy black hair layered to her shoulders, and spoke with a New York accent. This is the story she told her friend.<p></p><p><b>"I was born in Germany. I was one of three. We were triplets. We came early as multiple births often do, and we were very small. After a week or so they sent my mother home to recuperate and kept us three baby girls in the hospital to grow stronger. Our father visited us every day after work. </b></p><p><b>One day a nurse took my father aside and urged him to take us home immediately. The situation for the Jews was already compromised and he understood enough to take her words seriously. He had come straight from work so he had no way to take all three of us home on the bus without a bassinet or any way of carrying us. He could only manage one baby, and he took me. </b></p><p><b>The next morning my father went back to the hospital with a bassinet to collect his other two daughters. It was too late, they were gone. The head of hospital told him that they had died in the night. There were no bodies and no further information could be dragged out of any of the staff. </b></p><p><b>Soon after that we moved to New York. My two younger brothers and I always knew that I was one of triplets but my mother was always adamant that the other two had died. She couldn't cope with any other scenario. My father never contradicted her but we knew he believed otherwise. </b></p><p><b>I became an art teacher. Many years later I was teaching in a high school in New York when a college student came to do her training placement with me. One day she told me that her college supervisor would be coming in to observe her lesson. We told the class and we waited to start until the supervisor arrived. </b></p><p><b>The classroom door opened and another member of staff brought the supervisor in. Everyone in the room gasped. All the kids could see it. The supervisor was my identical double. And she was wearing an enormous cross around her neck. All the kids knew that I am Jewish. When she saw me she went white, but she sat through the lesson and then quickly left. She didn't speak to me afterwards, which is very unusual, and I never saw her again. But I know she was my sister and that somewhere out there there's another one of us."</b></p><p>I was eavesdropping so I couldn't ask any questions. Luckily the friend asked what I too wanted to know. "Didn't you try to find her?"</p><p><b>"No never. I discussed it with my brothers and we decided not to even tell my parents. My mother had lived all her life insisting that two of her daughters had died. What would it do to her to have to face a different truth now? And the woman with the big cross around her neck - who knows what she has been through? Who knows what kind of life she had? I was the lucky one who got to grow up with our parents. It wasn't up to me turn her life upside down. She knew where to find me if she wanted to. She never did."</b></p><p>This is the first time I've told this story overheard on a bus in Israel more than 30 years ago. The lady would be about 85 now if she's still alive. It's an incredible story but not unusual for Israel or in the Jewish world. As time goes on we hear these incredible stories less and less. In another generation they will be second-hand stories. I am the generation who heard directly from the people who survived. We must continue to tell the stories. </p>Rachel Selbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13113411205306116614noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7590163380780156104.post-30694851031766861472021-04-02T16:24:00.011+03:002021-04-03T22:59:21.853+03:00Achieve anything in a month. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyF6brRVUuQHk6SUi4sJVE2K24FfRgK9gD326TzYMjT9fW9V-wvngT9146UoGlMEi0WKEDk3z9s4VxC1UQAi7J9iIuD8mhx9szR2qBdqn8X3JON7sype0QvhOZJWR-pwojRz7GqKd-3Ms/s2048/20210401_154124.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyF6brRVUuQHk6SUi4sJVE2K24FfRgK9gD326TzYMjT9fW9V-wvngT9146UoGlMEi0WKEDk3z9s4VxC1UQAi7J9iIuD8mhx9szR2qBdqn8X3JON7sype0QvhOZJWR-pwojRz7GqKd-3Ms/s320/20210401_154124.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I didn't make it up. I think it was an author who wrote that her mother used to say that you can achieve anything in a month. I'd like to think it's true so I decided to test it during April. Obviously it says 'anything', not 'everything' so I had to choose my anything. <p></p><p>I would've liked to have chosen 'learn to play the piano (again)', or, 'improve my Hebrew', or even, 'write the first draft of a novel'. But I know myself and I wouldn't be able to concentrate on a big project outside of work whilst there are loose ends in my life. By this I mean smaller projects that I've been ignoring. They sit on my shoulders, gently taunting and generally hindering my concentration. So during April I'm going to tie up all the loose ends.</p><p><b>April 1st - That side table.</b></p><p>I picked up this table from next to the dumpster on the corner. I've never taken anything from the dumpster before but I've been watching You Tube videos about people who restore furniture from thrift stores and I fancied a go. I brought the table upstairs and there it sat for months with its horrible blue legs and formica top. On Thursday I finally did something with it. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YOvG8d-NXP300GLWhkXjQ7HHEWJcHSRhjBu495BifgU2Xxoq31JpmwxTB_wKK1fbFtWri0xdXKuIEGHou-yXF-N9Lh-7NwqCkpEvubAYx0Ji4x0chloypDksGFURuZI8fWW1LaBBZZc/s2048/20210401_185806.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YOvG8d-NXP300GLWhkXjQ7HHEWJcHSRhjBu495BifgU2Xxoq31JpmwxTB_wKK1fbFtWri0xdXKuIEGHou-yXF-N9Lh-7NwqCkpEvubAYx0Ji4x0chloypDksGFURuZI8fWW1LaBBZZc/s320/20210401_185806.jpg" /></a></div>I had an old tin of primer in the cupboard under the sink. I think it was from when the decorator painted my front door which is laminated steel. I know you need primer to paint over formica so I was half set.<p></p><p>For paint I raided my daughter's craft box and found some white, in liquid form that looked like it would do the job. It didn't look quite enough so I mixed it with the black to make grey. But that didn't look enough either so I mixed in the red to make an aubergine colour. Not what I would have chosen in a paint shop, but better than the horrible blue and formica. </p><p>I primed and then I painted. I should've used a gloss paint, or finished off with a laquer and maybe some beeswax.... I'm making this up from what I've seen on the telly. Bottom line, I didn't spend anything on this project and thus, the top, whilst no longer looking like formica, did look a little dull. And then I found two place mats from Kakadu that fit perfectly on the top.</p><p>Voila, one loose end done and dusted. </p><p><b>April 2nd - Those empty glass jars. </b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWFScNg69k-3oE9jB4mn_Jne7gc-Xv6mM0x0tXt1vBZOQ9ChyWkCsABnQU7vjZXhUVixHj5bjLysJOkXU6SV9eGH2Yw5BYMF1Z_nFRUKYcqj2D_3kBsfFPwc-QJ23Viq395ubCxVUy20Y/s2048/20210330_200306.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWFScNg69k-3oE9jB4mn_Jne7gc-Xv6mM0x0tXt1vBZOQ9ChyWkCsABnQU7vjZXhUVixHj5bjLysJOkXU6SV9eGH2Yw5BYMF1Z_nFRUKYcqj2D_3kBsfFPwc-QJ23Viq395ubCxVUy20Y/s320/20210330_200306.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>A friend opened my food cupboard a few weeks ago and burst out laughing. She too had a whole shelf of empty glass jars saved from coffee, jam, pasta sauce, etc... And like me, she had no idea why she was saving them or what she was going to do with them. <p></p><p>I do use old coffee jars for storing dry goods like rice, barley, couscous, salt, sugar, and oatmeal. One small jar is always in the fridge with homemade salad dressing. In previous years I've decorated jars and filled them with sweets or nuts for <a href="https://midlifesinglemum.blogspot.com/2013/03/more-on-monday-mishloah-manot.html" target="_blank">Mishloach Manot</a> on Purim. All this does not excuse about 30 glass jars and counting, sitting idle in the cupboard. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMaoejpf2fVpz5S6iuQHmHdIF62cJh8H6YI-m71MBd7lLEw6Zmx0hN-yocp96CPT6EdKFBtX8FjIDh9LXn9DDQlYiD-mUPW_UANxsO5oR7YOFax9vuxw5MHzMZDOFBrOF8Uf5QI4HkdM/s2048/20210401_171255.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMaoejpf2fVpz5S6iuQHmHdIF62cJh8H6YI-m71MBd7lLEw6Zmx0hN-yocp96CPT6EdKFBtX8FjIDh9LXn9DDQlYiD-mUPW_UANxsO5oR7YOFax9vuxw5MHzMZDOFBrOF8Uf5QI4HkdM/s320/20210401_171255.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Today I used up all the leftover vegetables in the fridge and some from the freezer to make an enormous batch of soup. I filled seven jars to go in the freezer. Then I made another batch of soup and filled six more jars. One jar didn't have a lid so that was chucked out, and one jar was used for the leftover paint from the table (thereby creating another loose end as I've nothing else to paint). <p></p><p>That's 15 jars cleared from the cupboard. The rest are sweet little jars that I will have to find a use for because I can't bear to throw them out. </p><p><b>Nine other loose ends for April.</b></p><p>Editing and backing up the Midlife Singlemum blog.</p><p>Editing my digital photos which were done in December but need updating.</p><p>Making another photo album for myself as the one I made in December was for DD. </p><p>Decluttering paperwork which is loosely filed but needs tidying up. </p><p>Taking loads of decluttered stuff to the second-hand shop. </p><p>Decluttering and organising my computer files. </p><p>Doing my tax returns for 2020 as I've finally collected all the relevant forms.</p><p>Decluttering my phone, especially the phone contacts. </p><p>Decluttering and organising my emails.</p><p><b>It's a challenge, but it wouldn't be a test if it weren't a challenge.</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p>Rachel Selbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13113411205306116614noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7590163380780156104.post-53135380202025503902021-03-05T17:57:00.015+02:002021-03-06T21:41:55.132+02:00Views on the News 5.3.21<p><b></b></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHj8fIzcU2-pUjr-bhyphenhyphen7Q46DabH1oduhjKfupS1t24fOGZyXNr7KnPSe44jzya8nIdXjOXRdo7_rX0N9Trk6P0CiiF6qY_d1KPJCYMdpxkaKw8P6pwEcxCx67dYvLICdIReyBPQEHMLYI/s640/025.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHj8fIzcU2-pUjr-bhyphenhyphen7Q46DabH1oduhjKfupS1t24fOGZyXNr7KnPSe44jzya8nIdXjOXRdo7_rX0N9Trk6P0CiiF6qY_d1KPJCYMdpxkaKw8P6pwEcxCx67dYvLICdIReyBPQEHMLYI/s320/025.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Five Jews, six opinions. </td></tr></tbody></table><b>I read the news that interests me. Even the news I engage with, has intricacies way above my attention span and responsibility. However, everyone is entitled to my opinion and I welcome yours in the comments below (which will be moderated).</b> <p></p><p><b>1. Do we trust Joe Biden?</b></p><p>I'm going to be brave here and say that I honestly didn't care about the results of the US elections. All my friends in the US, Israel, and in the UK were congratulating each other and breathing a huge sigh of communal relief when Trump lost. He wasn't very eloquent and often sounded like a bumbling idiot. There were also serious aspersions about his character and some very worrying accusations. </p><p>On the other hand, I'm sitting in the Middle East where four more Arab countries have made peace agreements with Israel, to add to the cold peace we already have with Jordan and Egypt. This is the nearest we have been to peace in the Middle East since, well since ever. </p><p>Meanwhile there are reports about Biden's cognitive health which, I admit could all be propoganda from the opposition - I wouldn't know. I do know that the first international action he's taken in office is to bomb Syria. At least Trump kept America out of any wars for four years. </p><p><b>2. The Meghan Markle Debarkle (mispelling intended).</b></p><p>Enough has been said across the board about Harry and Meghan, the as yet unseen Oprah interview, the accusations of bullying, the strangely fluid definition of words such as privacy, compassion, service, and victimhood. I am left wondering only one thing. How did a woman with such privilege, wealth, beauty, connections, and eloquence (you have to admit that she makes a very impressive word salad), and with aspirations to follow her late mother-in-law's dream of being the Princess of People's Hearts, turn herself into one of the most hated women in the world in the space of three and half years (since the engagement)? There has to be some serious delusion and inability to understand human nature to pull this off. </p><p><b>3. Brexit Turned Out Handy.</b> </p><p>Whether you were Remain or Brexit before 2021, you have to admit that the UK's independent political status has behoved it regarding the speedy and efficient vaccination of its citizens. Whilst Europe is mired in delays, misinformation, and bureaucracy, the UK is well on the way to being optimally vaccinated with a plan to be back to normal (within it's borders) by the summer. </p><p><b>4. Define Ethnicity.</b></p><p>A great debate broke loose in the UK last week as to whether Jews are an ethnic minority or not. Imo, ethnicity cannot be accurately defined in a way appropriate to all minorities. There are so many questions. The main one being whether ethnicity is about culture or biology. </p><p>You can convert to Judaism but you can't convert to being Black. Are all Black people of one ethnic group anyway? Are the Pygmies of the Congo Basin the same ethnicity as the Masai of Kenya and Tanzania? That seems a bit racist to me as they are only grouped together is because of skin colour. And yet all people of European descent are called White when, for example, the swarthy Greek bares no resemblence in skin colour to the red-headed (and often pastey skinned) Celt. And what does Asian mean when it covers everyone from China, through India, to Arabia? </p><p>So is it a cultural definition, including religion and/or way of life? What difference what God you believe in, if any? Growing up in London, I had more culture in common with my Indian and Black classmates than I woud have had with rural sheep farmers in Yorkshire. Or, with the few Jews left in places like India, Afghanistan and Morroco. </p><p>I understand that ethnic intelligence is designed to help minority groups by providing for their needs in the places they live, and also to guard against discrimination. However, maybe we should stop labeling people according to race or ethnicity and just ask, when it's appropriate, which cultural groups they affiliate with. This would be a matter of choice, open to more than one option, and fluid.</p><p> </p>Rachel Selbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13113411205306116614noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7590163380780156104.post-40865857619466495172021-02-16T23:09:00.013+02:002021-02-17T19:08:12.622+02:00Pancake Day<p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iFsJvJLZo-uhZrGrPDmxL5XVVxg_FBr0onmT7cWtVxAfRKNpykCrMsDhHtBZuVDCxsF-ejhj30JP2ck6OMzkvPqXPDl7GELH4WvlbJDksPRI643dlQuLmr8dvrZpT9WtdNm2pzfPtvE/s2048/20210216_191819.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iFsJvJLZo-uhZrGrPDmxL5XVVxg_FBr0onmT7cWtVxAfRKNpykCrMsDhHtBZuVDCxsF-ejhj30JP2ck6OMzkvPqXPDl7GELH4WvlbJDksPRI643dlQuLmr8dvrZpT9WtdNm2pzfPtvE/w400-h300/20210216_191819.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There is sliced banana, a shmear of Nutella,<br />and small shavings of vanilla ice-cream<br />between these two pancakes. </td></tr></tbody></table>Today was Shrove Tuesday, also called Pancake Day in the UK. Spiritually speaking it's the day before Ash Wednesday - the first day of Lent. So what's Lent? It's 40 days of solemn reflection when Christians abstain from certain foods, festivities and celebrations. It is supposed to replicate Jesus' sojourn for 40 days in the desert before his ultimate sacrifice (and resurrection). And then they have a massive celebration for Easter. <p></p><p>Nothing to do with me, right? Wrong. First of all I grew up in England and Pancake Day meant pancakes for tea in the same way as Guy Fawkes meant Bonfire Night and fireworks. But I like to go deeper with religious traditions as everything always leads back in some way to pre-religion and the agricultural year. I'm all about finding the things that bind us, rather than what makes us different and I especially like the rational connections to nature and the natural world. This is where I personally find God. </p><p>It is no coincidence that Shrove Tuesday is a bit of a feast, Purim has a big festive meal, and Mardi Gras and Carnival all fall in the early spring. (Sorry I don't know enough about the Muslim calender.) At this time of year everyone needed to clear out whatever was left in the winter storehouses. They used up all the food in an enormous binge-out and gave the the place a good spring clean. They were then ready for the first harvest of the year - the barley harvest in the Middle East - celebrated a few weeks later at Easter and Pesach (Passover) time. </p><p>The religious significance of these festivals were tagged on later. </p><p>They're forecasting snow in Jerusalem tomorrow. After a couple of weeks of spring, winter has returned with a vengeance. Of course the snow won't settle and snow days are irrelevant now that school is on Zoom. However, I made an emergency run to the supermarket to stock up on supplies for the duration. </p><p>Tonight DD and I had a bit of a pinukiada. I just heard that word for the first time today. Pinuk means pamper or treat in Hebrew. In the way that a multi-sport sports day is called an olympiada, a multi- pinuk evening can be called a pinukiada. </p><p>We ate pancakes. I found tiny jars of Nutella for DD. We don't use it at all otherwise, so I'd have had an almost full jar of Nutella in the fridge until next year. Next to the almost full jar of Dulce Deleche that we bought for her to make ice-cream on a school zoom activity. Not that we're such healthy eaters. I never met a carbohydrate I didn't like but we're not particulalry into sweets. Our poisons of choice are crisps, chips, pasta, and all thngs savoury. </p><p>I actually like my pancakes with salt and lemon juice. Shoot me, I don't care. </p><p>And now we're full and ready to eat less until the next big festive celebration. As Purim is virtually cancelled again this year (only nuclear families are allowed to meet for the festive meal), I guess we're doing Lent. </p><p><br /></p>Rachel Selbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13113411205306116614noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7590163380780156104.post-12202472361020391062021-02-15T13:36:00.031+02:002021-02-15T18:39:31.531+02:00A Monarchy in Crisis<p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNdqYb8p9Ddqr3SCopcI4gAxmU0zi7Gpumc2qm0eTyoJzJ71FHOCi4QdQmpiyf9ieUc-_ndl16-7N1KajexrfLou3r-HT2xb5tjQSoJw1wdSSMTaJzSAq2BL5G0qdSzSYAoNu5veIP0lE/s2048/20210215_125843.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNdqYb8p9Ddqr3SCopcI4gAxmU0zi7Gpumc2qm0eTyoJzJ71FHOCi4QdQmpiyf9ieUc-_ndl16-7N1KajexrfLou3r-HT2xb5tjQSoJw1wdSSMTaJzSAq2BL5G0qdSzSYAoNu5veIP0lE/w300-h400/20210215_125843.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>One of my favourite books that I got for my<br />Bat Mitzva and have kept all these years.</i></b> </td></tr></tbody></table>I've always been a staunch Monarchist. I love the pomp and ceremony. It adds to the unique flavour of the UK. The Monarchy brings in tourist revenue. It emphasizes a connection to other Commonwealth countries, ties which can only be beneficial. I like that ordinary people who do extraordinary things can be rewarded with a knighthood - a purely honorary title with no cash prize. <p></p><p>The Queen has been a model of dignity, duty, and good manners. In good times and in bad the British public enjoys her support and encouragement via television broadcasts. The Queen's speeches are unifying in a way that only football and natural disasters can compare (and we don't have street parties for natural disasters).</p><p>My attitude thus far has been that they do their jobs and I do mine. All careers have pluses and minuses and there are plenty of overpaid civil servants, that's just the way it is. But now I'm changing my mind. </p><p><i>"<a class="u-underline in-body-link--immersive" data-component="auto-linked-tag" data-link-name="auto-linked-tag" href="https://www.theguardian.com/uk/queen" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border-bottom: 0.0625rem solid rgba(199, 0, 0, 0.4); cursor: pointer; font-family: "Guardian Text Egyptian Web", Georgia, serif; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: common-ligatures; text-decoration-line: none; touch-action: manipulation; transition: border-color 0.15s ease-out 0s;"><span style="color: black;">The Queen</span></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #121212; font-family: "Guardian Text Egyptian Web", Georgia, serif; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: common-ligatures;"> successfully <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2021/feb/07/revealed-queen-lobbied-for-change-in-law-to-hide-her-private-wealth" target="_blank">lobbied the government</a> to change a draft law in order to conceal her “embarrassing” private wealth from the public, according to documents discovered by the Guardian."</span></i></p><p>Is it acceptable that a woman who owns vast swathes of the country and is paid from taxpayers' money, should be able to hide the fact that she is wealthy to the tune of billions of pounds? </p><p>Last year the Duchy of Cornwall made <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-cornwall-51960855" target="_blank">£21 million profit</a> which went straight to Prince Charles' private purse. Last March (arguably before we knew the extent of the economic crisis to come) he raised rents on the Isle of Scilly, of which he owns most of it. Some leasholders have seen their rents increase from less than £100 a year to arounf £7000 a year in the space of a few years. </p><p>The 1967 Leasehold Reform Act gave leaseholders the right to buy their freehold at a price calculated according to set guidelines. This law does not apply to land owned by the Duchy of Cornwall. Leasehold rents are usually a nominal yearly charge but it means that when the lease is up, the land and your property, and any improvements you made, all revert to the freeholder. You have nothing to bequeath your children, you have no equity and you cannot get a mortgage on leaseholds with few years to run. And certainly no one is going to buy a property with less than a 99 year lease so you can't sell and move somewhere else. </p><p>Prince Charles owns four palatial residences in England, Scotland and Wales, for his family of two. This is a complete throwback to when the world had a quarter of its present population and the poor "knew their place". Do we really want a king who lives so much in the past that he hires a man to dress him in the morning and put toothpase on his toothbrush? Is this sort of extravagant lifestyle at the expense of the working people going to be a model that we can repsect? Are we going to look to King Charles for support in times of crisis? I think not. </p><p>Then we have the arrogant, entitlement of Andrew who in any other role, would have been fired without keeping all the perks of the job, incuding living in a grace-and-favour mansion. </p><p>Harry and Meghan are playing at being Prince and Princess of LA. She says, "we are not ranked, we are linked," whilst fiercely retaining her HRH and Duchess titles. She sues photographers for publishing a photo of the back of her baby's hooded head but releases photos of other people's children when she visits a school during lockdown where the parents aren't even allowed to enter. And lies to the court in another of their multiple and potentially money-making law suits. Whilst at every opportunity lecturing us about our responsibility to heal the planet (from their 16-bathroom mansion) and being kind to one another (although not to her own father, obviously). </p><p>It's not Andrew and Harry that bring down the Monarchy. Every family has rogue members. They are no longer working Royals (even though Harry thinks he still is) and we don't have to see or hear from them (except that Harry and Meghan haven't quite got the hang of the privacy they craved and so we do see and hear from them. A lot). The complaint is that we the public, are still paying for their extravagant lifestyles, directly or indirectly, and the Queen and Prince Charles continue to fascilitate this violation of privelege. This is not just not a parent and grandparent supporting children, This is public employees abusing their position which, it seems, is above the law. </p><p>The covid pandemic and ensuing economic crisis has made extreme privelege and extravagance much more of an issue than it ever was. With internet informaton, nothing can be hidden from the masses. We need a fresh start with a new approach to the British Monarchy. </p><p>I would like to see Prince Charles stand down and let William and Kate become the next King and Queen (or whatever title she gets). The civil list should be restricted to them and them only. (It's a fallacy that public appearances by other Royals bring in any extra revenue for the charities they patronise.) King William would be the figurehead for all the three military branches. If they send other family members on official visits, they should be paid a daily rate - same as everyone who travels for work. </p><p>Other members of the family can keep whatever properties they own if they can afford them - same as all other stately home owners. But leaseholders living on their lands must have the same rights to buy their freeholds as any other citizen. Grace-and-favour properties belonging to the crown should be subject to rent with the revenue going to the public purse. </p><p> Save the Monarchy but make it real for the 21st Century. </p><p><br /></p>Rachel Selbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13113411205306116614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7590163380780156104.post-24335299691865769442021-02-08T15:25:00.029+02:002021-02-08T17:22:52.325+02:00Reasons 2B Cheerful<p><b></b></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZz0_0PpeXfx-_qtzLXUCY_tXP6EjnjhqDLa1QMZuCNGBaovkOXrA0NiRSAyfOAVLDB8mJQ44Mo7y1mBn3kbu5_hk0f6eh4sfrLB3IUkXYT9YbCuNvlskN_mIK4zaq0dEivBg8TaLwIks/s1600/IMG-20200316-WA0004.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1196" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZz0_0PpeXfx-_qtzLXUCY_tXP6EjnjhqDLa1QMZuCNGBaovkOXrA0NiRSAyfOAVLDB8mJQ44Mo7y1mBn3kbu5_hk0f6eh4sfrLB3IUkXYT9YbCuNvlskN_mIK4zaq0dEivBg8TaLwIks/w239-h320/IMG-20200316-WA0004.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spring is in the air</td></tr></tbody></table><b> I started this new blog and then neglected it. I almost decided to transfer the posts here back to Midlife Singlemum and just change the name. However, I do want a clean break and a completely new image, not to mention the challenge of living up to the name Panache. Spring has arrived so I'm giving Midlife Panache another go and I'm long overdue for a R2BC post. </b><p></p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b>1 Fully Vaccinated</b></p><p>I got my second shot exactly three weeks after <a href="https://midlifepanache.blogspot.com/2021/01/the-call-to-vacction-its-play-on-words.html" target="_blank">the first</a>. The place was as empty as it was the first time so despite arriving half an hour early, I went straight into one of the vaccination booths. This time while waiting for 15 minutes before leaving, a staff member came round and asked all of the 20 or so waitees if we were feeling OK. I was impressed with that. The drive-through testing centre has been moved from the car park opposite the vaccination centre in the Jerusalem Arena, so I was able to get a taxi outside the door without worrying that it would take 20 minutes of meter time to leave the stadium-arena campus. Apart from flushed cheeks later in the evening (like a fever could break out but didn't), I had no side effcts at all. It's now two weeks later and I consider myself fully vaccintated and 95% safe - although I'm not exactly sure what that means. </p><p><br /></p><p><b>2 Spring</b></p><p>We really didn't have much of a winter this year. The temperature has hovvered between 15C and 20C since the beginning of December with only a few days falling below 15C and a few rain storms lasting a couple of days each. But now we're firmly back in the 20s and it really does feel like spring. </p><p><br /></p><p><b>3 Social Zooms</b></p><p>It took a while for this to take off as, being a teacher working from home, the last thing I want to do after a day at the computer, is to have more zoom meetings. There were a few family meet-ups with a friendly quiz which were fun. Last week I zoomed with <a href="https://midlifesinglemum.blogspot.com/2012/02/artiheart-1-24th-feb12.html" target="_blank">four friends from my schooldays</a>. We all live in different cities and on three different continents so I don't know why it took the pandemic for us to do this. This was our second zoom and we've cemented the custom of doing it on our birthdays. We may need another excuse in the summer as we were all born withn six months of each other. Or not. I've also fallen into a welcome monthly zoom date with a friend in London. Second month this Sunday as we only started in January this year. Although I spend a lot of time on Face Book, it's not the same as actually chatting as opposed to typing. I'm starting to feel more connected to the world again. (This may also be because the balcony door is wide open and there are people outside in the sunshine.)</p><p><br /></p><p><b>4 New Job</b></p><p>I am [remote] teaching a course at a new (to me) college this semester. It's the sister college to the one I already teach in and also very local. I'm hoping that if things go well, the work will continue next year. The pay doesn't quite cover the cuts that were made in September so it's lots more work for almost the same money I got last year for fewer hours, but under the current circumstances I'm just grateful to still be employed at all.</p><p><b><br /></b></p><p><b>In a nutshell, lots to be cheerful about.</b> </p><p><br /></p>Rachel Selbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13113411205306116614noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7590163380780156104.post-89943245438892982812021-01-09T19:56:00.010+02:002021-02-15T13:56:34.745+02:00A More Des Res for New Year Resolutions<p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-GQgT003-PZBFvyfuUm_9cm_a4DJJNcd0RzcEJj6Dn_GCZNYGqYrvj5qlknxqctjSR_ipudMNjsxAplMM3KDdt8f_KaFYe0dl__6hX2b4-qnvGUF49QePfCEXyKUhSxgyBVmxYvVWUs/s2048/20210109_153607.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-GQgT003-PZBFvyfuUm_9cm_a4DJJNcd0RzcEJj6Dn_GCZNYGqYrvj5qlknxqctjSR_ipudMNjsxAplMM3KDdt8f_KaFYe0dl__6hX2b4-qnvGUF49QePfCEXyKUhSxgyBVmxYvVWUs/w400-h300/20210109_153607.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>Not every resolution is for every day.</i></b> </td></tr></tbody></table>New Year resolutions (NYRs from now on) have the bad reputation of being discarded before the first month of the year is out. But still we're drawn to making them. I've seen some attempts at taming them by changing the name to 'goals' or 'intentions'. Who are we kidding? After a week, a res by any other name would smell as obsolete.<p></p><p>The forerunners of NYRs, about 4,000 years ago, were the allegiance to the King and promises to the gods in Ancient Babylon during their 12-day NY celebrations in the spring. The Romans continued making promises to the gods when Julius Ceasar changed the NY to January 1st in about 46BCE. Wanting to provide a religious alternative to reveling and getting drunk, English clergyman, John Wesley introduced the Covenant Renewal Service in 1740 (also known as Watch Night Services), to reflect on the past year and make resolutions for the coming one. </p><p>Nowadays we make promises to ourselves. This is not as binding on our psyche as promising our gods. Hence the reported 92% failure rate. Seeing as we're not giving up on NYRs, there has to be a better way of doing it. And now, at last, someone has found it. </p><p>I didn't make this up myself. My blogging friend of 10 years, Emma Martin, who lives on Cyprus, discovered a small switch in mindset, a loophole, an altogether more des res, that increases your chance of success. At least until December - when it could go back to 8%. But you'll have had 365 days of opportunity and many of them in the warmer weather when you're feeling more energised. </p><p>In <a href="http://emsyjo.blogspot.com/2021/02/resolutions-for-new-year.html" target="_blank">A Matter of Choice</a>, Emma explains that NYRs are made on January 1st, in the NY, but you don't have to start all of them straight away. She interprets the concept as things you will start or conquer at some time during the coming year. </p><p>How comforting to know that you can conquer Couch to 5K even if you start in the spring. You can give up eating meat by reducing gradually and have it licked (pun intended) by the end of the year. You can learn a new language or musical intrument without promising yourself to practise for 20 minutes every day. You can even schedule your studies to start at a beginners' summer course in your local college.</p><p>The pressure is off folks! This year I will..... means two doughnuts doesn't mean you've failed your diet resolution. One day of watching television all day in your pyjamas doesn't derail any of your good, industrious, healthy, productive, creative, empowering, self-improvement, super-hero resolutions. You just took a day or a week or a month off. Who cares? You have the whole of 2021 to do this thing. </p><p>As someone who takes her NYRs as seriously as the Babylonians and Romans did, this revelation has changed my whole life. I'm stunned that no one has said it before. If we share it, we could help millions of people to do this year what they've never managed to achieve before. (Quick Emma, write the book before anyone else writes it!) </p><p>On behalf of my friend Emma, you're welcome. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Emma Martin blogs at <a href="https://thinkingaddicts.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Talking on Eggshells</a></i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>Rachel Selbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13113411205306116614noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7590163380780156104.post-58470045807158778562021-01-06T22:32:00.027+02:002021-01-09T12:08:21.171+02:00Cooking from the HeART<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvtICw-pVJInTeBtL2B-x9fMZu_adhbM8nXfB3XHIHbK62YzbG60HoFDfoGTYGWP5OwmgOyoWrejDkoKTqwZIn0r4gpoIuP_btEX6WOVPqJ606cAfdTGOxvZe_X9ENbfAvd-gew7jj6SM/s2048/20210106_210622.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1740" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvtICw-pVJInTeBtL2B-x9fMZu_adhbM8nXfB3XHIHbK62YzbG60HoFDfoGTYGWP5OwmgOyoWrejDkoKTqwZIn0r4gpoIuP_btEX6WOVPqJ606cAfdTGOxvZe_X9ENbfAvd-gew7jj6SM/w340-h400/20210106_210622.jpg" width="340" /></a></div>What do you do when you find yourself in quarantine with a fortnight's worth of free time? For Sally-Ann Thwaites the answer was simple. She would use the time to collect all her recipes, hithertofore on scraps of paper or on her phone, together into one convenient file. <p></p><p>Sally-Ann (Sassy to her friends) is a great entertainer. Her passion is to have upwards of 10, and sometimes 20 friends around her dining table almost every Shabbat. Her greatest joy is a house full of guests for a party, a barbeque, or a celebration of any sort. So, on hearing of her plan to collate all her delicious recipes, everyone encouraged her to go the extra mile and make it into a book.</p><p>Thus began a five month project which resulted in <i><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/866960524056437/?multi_permalinks=884819572270532&notif_id=1609961132147317&notif_t=group_activity&ref=notif" target="_blank">Cooking from the He<b>art</b></a>, </i>a<i> </i>260 page cornucopia of entertaining know-how, recipes, tips and luscious photos. </p><p>Emerging from her solitary confinement, Sassy invited all her friends whose dishes she'd been borrowing for years, to send her the actual recipes. She contacted the chefs of restaurants and hotels to request the recipes of dishes she and her husband have particularly enjoyed locally and on their travels. </p><p>She also dug deep into her memory to recreate the best loved dishes of her childhood. Recipes from her beloved mother, also a great cook and entertainer, and her first inspiration in the kitchen. In fact the book is dedicated to Monica Slater, a lovely lady whom I remember well from my childhood in our community in London.</p><p>When I offered to do some editing, I was told there would be about 25 recipes a week for three weeks. No problem, we were in lockdown, I wasn't going anywhere. But the recipes kept on coming. When, five months later, we reached 130 recipes I asked if this was a book of her favourite recipes or of every dish she'd ever eaten. Haha, very funny. These things often take on a life of their own. </p><p>If you're going to do something, do it properly, right? A professional photographer, graphic designer and printer were essential to make the leap from crafts project to coffee table splendor. Fun for us, because every few weeks, in between the lockdowns, there was photo shoot and a whole bunch of friends had to come over and eat all the food. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNYO5jw0TdqMwSqjjXNNAMVWkRAzKefJCm52sXJfrMCHTzgypaJnKF5g6VoOi4ezm1saQ9Kk_hVItIrSVp7LUb8jXU2mUBlaq0EN3aQQzXJcM-9efPC8QBjyHyVa8S5BwwwVPiMStj00/s2048/20210106_210756.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNYO5jw0TdqMwSqjjXNNAMVWkRAzKefJCm52sXJfrMCHTzgypaJnKF5g6VoOi4ezm1saQ9Kk_hVItIrSVp7LUb8jXU2mUBlaq0EN3aQQzXJcM-9efPC8QBjyHyVa8S5BwwwVPiMStj00/w320-h240/20210106_210756.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sally-Ann setting the table.</td></tr></tbody></table><p>I learned a few things too. Apparently a grazing table is a thing. But don't worry if you've never heard of it before as there's a page dedicated to telling you how it's done with elegance and panache*. Ditto for other more familiar concepts like table settings, buffets, reception food, and fruit platters.</p><p>Obviously after all the time, effort and expense, this is not the sort of thing where you print five copies and give them to your closest family. With the help of a sponsor, <i>Cooking from the He<b>art</b></i> is being distributed in aid of <a href="https://www.zdvo.org/" target="_blank">Beit Halochem</a>, an organisation that supports military veterans in Israel. (Suggested donation £30 and all the proceeds go straight to the charity.) </p><p>There's a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/866960524056437/?multi_permalinks=884819572270532&notif_id=1609961132147317&notif_t=group_activity&ref=notif" target="_blank">facebook page</a> where people are posting photos of their dinners from the book. It's fun to see everyone's choices, interpretations (because no two cooks are the same), and comments. And you can find information about how to get your very own copy. </p><p>I've completed a few little projects during this pandemic, but Sassy raised the bar considerably. In fact, in my Jerusalem neighbourhood, I'd say she won the lockdowns by a mile. </p><p>*<i>I am particulalry interested in panache at the moment, having just started this new blog.</i></p>Rachel Selbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13113411205306116614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7590163380780156104.post-9024768314991158022021-01-05T00:59:00.005+02:002021-01-05T12:39:38.528+02:00The Call to Vacction (It's a Play on Words). <p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaIvDrJjvyKe_nOWdsYRwWoCCn0kXhltHwKz_F4Qc9neymTszWr6fAxnWALqd5dGjAxi-z39lstp-5veSJTziN5yV01ggkWtokSYmn-91iScKbhTQ217B9pR-j34gT5Dvmv8q_aus-IOM/s2048/20210104_162841_2.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1145" data-original-width="2048" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaIvDrJjvyKe_nOWdsYRwWoCCn0kXhltHwKz_F4Qc9neymTszWr6fAxnWALqd5dGjAxi-z39lstp-5veSJTziN5yV01ggkWtokSYmn-91iScKbhTQ217B9pR-j34gT5Dvmv8q_aus-IOM/w400-h224/20210104_162841_2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jerusalem Payis Arena<br />The sign says: Maccabi Always With You. <br /> </td></tr></tbody></table><b> 3.20 pm:</b> I'm giving a zoom English lesson to six 4th Graders. The phone rings. I don't give the lady time to tell me anything. I say I'm a teacher giving a zoom lesson and I'll be able to talk in another 30 minutes. Had I known what it was about, I would never have hung up.<p></p><p><b> 3.50 pm</b> on the dot: She calls back. She's from Maccabi, my health fund. Would I like to make an appointment for the first round vaccination? Of course I would but as I told the person I spoke to a couple of weeks ago, after receiving invitations by sms, email and a phone call, I'm allergic to latex and they warned people with allergies to speak to their doctor first. Last time I was told that as I'm not yet 60, I don't really qualify. Which begged the question - why invite me to make an appointment then? </p><p>Since then they are filling in free slots with people in their 50s so as not to waste opened batches of vaccination that have been out of the freezer too long to put back. </p><p>This nice lady asks if I'm allergic to any medicines and specifically any inoculations. No and no. So you're fine, can you come at 4.20? Whoa, I'm not sure I can get there by 4.20. Ok, 4.40? Done. </p><p>I am about to hang up when she says, "one more thing. Your second jab will be on the 25th January also at 4.40." I'm amazed. Are you an angel from heaven? The truth is that Israel does what it does best in a crisis. We're used to crises. </p><p><b> 3.55 pm:</b> I dance around my apartment feeling like I've won the lottery. </p><p><b> 4.05 pm:</b> I jump in a taxi. "Driver! The Jerusalem Payis Arena! And don't spare the horses!" (I'm paraphrasing.) </p><p><b> 4.20 pm:</b> I walk into the Arena. They give me a number at the door which corresponds exactly to the number showing on the screen. Cubicle 9. Straight in. </p><p><b> 4.21 pm:</b> I give my ID number. "Rachel Selby? I see you had your flu shot three weeks ago." Yes and yes. "Which arm?" Reader, I didn't feel a thing. </p><p><b> 4.22 pm:</b> I'm sitting in the lobby having been instructed to wait 10 minutes before leaving. </p><p><b> 4.50 pm:</b> I'm home and half vaccinated. The trouble is that no one knows which half. And anyway, my 50% immunity doesn't kick in for 8-10 days. But who's going anywhere in the next month anyway? We too are heading for a strict stay-at-home lockdown due to start within 48 hours.</p><p>Apparently we are stopping the first round of vaccinations at the end of this week and spending the rest of January giving the second round. I wasn't going to bother with this first round. I thought I'd contact my GP, maybe have to get an epipen and a doctor's note. Whatever, I planned to be ready for the February intake. I was quite happy to let the first 1.5 million people try it out before me. But, now I'm happy, relieved, honoured, and very grateful to have been given this opportunity. </p><p> </p>Rachel Selbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13113411205306116614noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7590163380780156104.post-487818646688291342021-01-02T14:27:00.306+02:002021-01-03T10:54:56.935+02:00New Year, New Blog<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-ePlpmxGBdYjD-b7hfxt1ydw1nom3pODv0hF9LUT2ufcovl1juHPRbiZaSlTI4O_iesJLt6F6HrSDCEnJNGIETHF0zBdpfNQXD-lmwaTHZKoZla_RsbSyzybXs0OpqyOHHxjigHaXO8/s2048/20190725_055720.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1372" data-original-width="2048" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd-ePlpmxGBdYjD-b7hfxt1ydw1nom3pODv0hF9LUT2ufcovl1juHPRbiZaSlTI4O_iesJLt6F6HrSDCEnJNGIETHF0zBdpfNQXD-lmwaTHZKoZla_RsbSyzybXs0OpqyOHHxjigHaXO8/w400-h268/20190725_055720.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #800180;">Dawn of a new day. Possibly the age of Aquarius.</span></b></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Happy New Year 2021! </b></div><p></p><p>A New Year full of hope with covid-19 vaccinations rolling out around the world. I haven't given up on celebrating Pesach (Passover) this year with our family in London. And if not Pesach, then the summer (thank you Easyjet for Flexibooking).</p><p>Coinciding with all this anticipation for the rebirth of society and the economy, my DD turned 12 last month. Not exactly empty nest time but definitely more independence for both of us. Babysitters are a thing of the past. We can each come and go with our own keys and have our own schedules. We'll keep in touch by phone and agree a time to meet at home for dinner (because Midlife Panache demands that it must be dinner, not just tea or supper).</p><p>Oh the exciting possibilities of the coming year. I love you already 2021!</p><p>Seriously though - who is this Midlife Panache? What happened to Midlife Singlemum, that comfortable, homely, old friend of a blogger? Well Singlemum's still here but Panache is desperately trying to get out under 12 years of plain pasta. </p><p>I loved having a baby, then a toddler, then a little girl. I didn't feel that it was hard doing it on my own but the all encompassing committement meant that I lost myself somewhat in the process. </p><p>Fitting work around hours of available childcare meant that income was restricted. I'm an emotional eater and there were plenty of emotions to chomp my way through. I ate DD's leftovers because wasting food is a sin. I put all my efforts into DD and unwittingly let myself go. And this past year of being almost totally sedentary was not helpful, to say the least. </p><p>Time for big changes. With thanks to Midlife Singlemum for 10 years of fun-filled blogging, and to DD who provided reams of entertainment but no longer wants to be featured in a blog, I hereby introduce Midlife Panache!</p><p>I'm not entirely comfortable with the name yet. Panache means flamboyant confidence of style or manner. I almost changed it to something tamer. Midlife In Clover was a contender as 'in clover' means a life of ease and luxury, but also connotates afternoon tea in the garden - which is more me. And a cow. So I nixed that one. </p><p>Midlife Panache is a challenge and I'm up for a challenge this year. </p>Rachel Selbyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13113411205306116614noreply@blogger.com14