Challah

Challah is a big deal. Jewish women get really excited about challah. 

Except what we know as "challah" isn't really "challah." 

The actual, correct, appropriate translation of "challah" is the portion that was taken off dough to be given to the Kohanim. The remaining majority of that dough was made into lechem for everyone else. 

For thousands of years, Jewish women made simple loaves of bread. Then, in the 1500s, braided bread became trendy in Europe, and Jewish women jumped on the bandwagon. The trend never left, to the point that we sometimes think that the only bread that can be made for Shabbos must be braided. Only Sephardim who have not been exposed to Ashekenazi mishaggassen have loaves on their Shabbos tables.

The mitzvah is to take the challah off dough, and as long as that dough will become bread and has the minimum amount of flour, the mitzvah can be done. 

But since challah is now braided challah bread, many women can find the skill daunting. Ma actually did not make challah bread until a neighbor found out, ordered her to come over to her house, and taught her. 

Yet the mitzvah is not so inaccessible. If yeast and water and flour are chucked into a bowl, you've got dough to take challah from. So give it a try. And maybe, one day, if you feel like it, you can try braiding it too.

Ribbis

A few weeks ago I read an article about ribbis. The article had a few examples as to what constitutes ribbis, which I found fascinating. 

If you borrow an item, with the understanding that you are borrowing the item, you do not go beyond the borrowing. Meaning, if you borrowed a used item from someone and repaid them with a new item, that is ribbis. Further gestures of gratitude are, in many cases, ribbis. 

I rarely borrow items because I find it too stressful. I feel incredibly beholden to the lender that they entrusted me with an item of theirs, and because of that, it's a millstone around my neck. 

But according to the premise of ribbis, there is no need to be beholden. It's very matter-of-fact about it. You needed something. Another lent it to you. It's ok. It's fine. Calm down. 

I find the underlying message is that nothing really belongs to us anyway; if you are willing to lend it to another, you shouldn't make them feel forever in your debt. Nor should they feel like they were done this massive favor that they must keep repaying forever and beyond. 

I'm liking this. 

Corona Conundrums

It takes a moment to process that it has been nearly a year since the <bleep> hit the fan, and we were all herded indoors. 

Beforehand, I would have thought that if I had an infinite amount of time at my disposal, I would become more productive. Photos would be organized. Bathrooms would be sparkling. Sleep would be paramount. Blogs would be updated regularly.

However, none of those things have happened. In an existence without structure, photos are ignored, bathrooms are oft neglected, sleep is meh, and blogs get overlooked. 

Or maybe, in this lockdown, I have little to report and comment on? Socializing has been outlawed (although I do admit I didn't do much of it in the first place). Newspapers merely shriek that the end is nigh (not much in the way of observations of the human condition).

Baruch Hashem, with the arrival of the vaccine, this upside-down time will, mit Gutt's helf, be ending, eventually. 

And perhaps, then I will be able to blog again, properly. 

We All Carry Pain

***This post has been redacted. I was informed that the content was judgy and condescending, making me lose all credibility on this topic. Thank you.***