This Year in Jerusalem

In fact I'll be in Kfar Saba for the Seder.
I do not feel literary or even particularly communicative, but feel an obligation to blog something (in order to avoid Pesach cleaning).

Pesach promises me freedom. Counting the Omer is a magnificent opportunity for daily focus on self-improvement.

I look forward to being able to eat out casually this Pesach.
And not having to explain or wonder what others think - ah, memories of the Teachers' Room!

Recalling that as a small child I remember the wireless announcing that Al Jolson died, I Googled him and discovered he died when I was about three and a half. Perhaps the memory stuck with me because I told my mother: I remember telling someone, and I vaguely remember her looking at me from the scullery door. Perhaps the incident stuck because it was some kind of precociousness on my part.

I must return to my Pesach cleaning.