Life in Shiloh, "Getting to Know You" Over The Chopping Board

Last night here in Shiloh was the annual "Get To Know The New/Old Neighbors" event.

Maybe not all the tables/crews used chopping boards, but whether stirring puddings, sauces or kneading dough, newcomers worked with neighbors who had moved to Shiloh even before they were born. Age didn't matter at all when working together to make a quiche, pizza, salad, dessert or...

Master of the "Master Chef" came armed with ovens, cutting boards, knives, pasta rollers, bowls, burners and all sorts of foods and all the equipment needed for our intrepid chefs. A staff of "judges" were assigned to grade the delicacies. I just wandered around taking pictures.

I must admit that the event was much more successful than I had envisioned. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. I left as the food was being served and shared to all. Don't think it didn't look delicious; it looked just too delicious for my rather weak self-control.

Shiloh has grown so much in recent years that I can't expect to know everyone. But at least many of those I didn't know looked familiar. In all honesty, I'm glad that the yishuv, town, has  been absorbing many new mostly young families. It confirms that we chose well all those years ago when we moved to Shiloh. Gd willing our wonderful town will continue to grow and expand.

אין מילים Ain Milim, No Words

There are times when the best response is:

אין מילים Ain Milim, No Words

And that's how I feel right now.  When certain tragedies occur, no words will help, therefore that's the best response.  Generally by talking we just make things worse, very unintentionally of course.

Sympathy and support can be conveyed by a look straight in the eye, a pat on the shoulder, a hug or just holding or gripping hands.

Silence says the most.  Absence and the wrong words are the worst.  There are tragedies that put everything into a new more accurate perspective of good and bad, happy and sad.

This will have to suffice for now.

Tzom kal, an easy fast.  May we soon merit the Moshiach and return to the living of those who have passed away.  May Tisha B'Av be a feast day for all, G-d willing.

One Person's Cultter is Another's Treasure

When my sister moved our parents from their first "old age home," where they had a nice big one bedroom apartment to a more caring facility where they had a large "L" shaped room, there were lots of things they no longer needed.  Some things we divided and others were brought to one of the enormous Good Will stores/centers in the Phoenix, Tempe, Scottsdale area.  Books none of us wanted were donated to the public library, which has receptacles in various convenient places.

I described Good Will to friends in Israel as a "goyish g'mach."  That's what it is.  I wouldn't be surprised if the people who first established Good Will had gotten the idea from what the Jewish community did in the various "g'machim."  A  g'mach is a very necessary sort of charity, that can give/sell/rent services and things to others in need.  The services or things can be anything from money to cars to diapers, pacifiers, clothing, furniture, wedding gowns, decorated pillow cases for a Brit Milah, books, talents and more.  There is no end to the possibilities.

Many people (including myself) I know donate perfectly good, but personally useless, clothing to a g'mach.  It's much easier to clean out unnecessary clutter when you know the items will be used and treasured by other people.  As hard as we try, we still end up with unneeded stuff in our homes and closets.

When I was flying into New York for my mother's funeral, I noticed that the zipper on my good backpack, the one I'd been using the past couple of years to take my books etc when studying in Matan, wouldn't stay closed.  That backpack had been from my son's closet.  He gave it to me when I sent out an alert to the kids asking if they had one they weren't going to use again.  I think it was one of the freebies he had been given when in the army.  There were ads on it; tzanchanim, paratroopers got quite a few of these sorts of sponsored freebies.  It was pretty obvious that the bag hadn't been in use for awhile by all the dust.  I enjoyed it; it was well-made and orthopedic.  But what's the point of a backpack that doesn't stay closed?

A rushed visit to anyplace for a funeral doesn't include time for shopping, so I asked a friend I'd be seeing at the funeral who had offered to help in whatever I needed, to buy me a new one.  She said that she'd first go through her closets.  And she discovered this bag.

It had been her son's.  He's now married and neither needs nor wants it.  It's in too good condition to give away and the g'machim  in her area wouldn't be interested in it.  For me it's perfect, B"H, thank G-d.  And she's overjoyed that it's finally out of her closet.  She knew it was worth saving.

"Volunteerism"

One of the things I like about living in Shiloh is the community spirit. Of course, when we first arrived here, we were all about the same age with young children or expecting the firstborns. At that time, twenty-seven and a half years ago, there wasn't much more than a fifteen year age span from oldest to youngest adults.

Today, even though our record-breaking over one hundred year old resident is now buried in the cemetery, we have a number of people in their eighties and also some couples who are still in their teens or early twenties.

Yes, today's Shiloh is different from the one we moved to, but some things are the same. It's still a community with opportunities and the need for volunteers.

My favorite committee is the Election committee. Like Brigadoon, it comes and goes. Every year or so, before local elections, there's a town meeting to choose "Va'adat Kalpi," the Election Board. I've been running elections here for about twenty years. It used to be among the responsibilities of the Appointments Committee, but then it was discovered that the department of the Ministry of the Interior had certain procedures they demanded, and we hadn't been doing it correctly.

The Election Board is a temporary status, generally only for twenty-one days. If we need an extension, we must contact the proper government official. If someone here decides that a "mistake" was made, we're called in for investigation. It's not pleasant and a real waste of time. That's one of the reasons I keep getting appointed, technically voted in by the Town Meeting.

For good or for bad, people trust me and know that I'll stick to the rules and not play games. Also, I know the rules. I learned them from a neighbor who is an expert in law. She trained me.

My computer has the standard announcement in its memory. Each time, I just have to make a few changes.

I don't mind doing it for a few reasons. One is that the committee only exists for a few weeks, so it's not a long-term commitment. Another is that there isn't a paid person doing the same thing here. I refuse to volunteer for anything that has salaried workers doing the same. My time is no less valuable. And lastly, I feel confident that everything will be according to law when I run the elections.