Monday, October 17, 2005
I'm hiding from my kitchen. I was heating oil to fry up fish patties, and I over-did it. Smoke everywhere. Yaakov opened windows and turned on fans. I'm still nervous.
Yaakov built a beautiful sukkah yesterday, and today crowned it with lots of palm schach. In Brooklyn, we used cedar. Ahhh, I remember the pungent smell of cedar wafting through the sukkah. The cool, late autumn winds blowing through. In Brooklyn, our sukkah was on our roof. We could hear all our neighbors singing from theirs. I miss that.
Our sukkah in Brooklyn was a gift. My husband was in kollel, and we were struggling. Yaakov went to a sukkah store with someone, and one of the employees offered to sell him his old sukkah. "Okay, let me talk to my wife," Yaakov said. I thought the offered price was out of our budget (everything was out of budget). So the sukkah man called, and Yaakov told him it was still too much for us. "No problem," he said, "My wife and I understand you're in kollel. We decided to give you our sukkah for free." So that's how we got our sweet little canvas and metal Brooklyn sukkah. Every sukkos since, we have made a l'chaim to that kind man. Tuvia Ben Sarah, may he live and be well for his chessed.
In chutz l'aretz, We have a wood one, with lattice panels. It was very nice. We kept it up all last year (until Katrina blew it down). But it's back, and better than ever. Bigger than last year's.
Yesterday in Wal-Mart, I was on line and I saw a Jewish lady. "Excuse me, are you Jewish?" I said. "Yes, how did you know?" "You have such a sweet Jewish face," I told her. "You know, tomorrow night is sukkos, and it's a big mitzvah to be in a sukkah. Just to be inside of one is a mitzvah! It's the only mitzvah that literally surrounds you." "Really?" she said. "Yes," I answered. "Try to get in a sukkah." I would have invited her to ours, but it's an hour away.
Time to attempt the fish patties again.