Because it went below freezing on Friday night, we turned on a portable heater in the living room and had the wood-burning stove going full-blast. When Shabbos came in I was actually uncomfortably warm. That hasn't happened in... in... I don't know how long. It was so warm in my house that I actually had to take off my sweatpants. I'd forgotten how that feels.
Along with the freezing weather, the Israelis tell me that it snowed "sticking snow" on Friday night. Oh, cuties. Just because the air is filled with snowflakes and they stick to cars and some tree branches does not mean that it's "sticking snow." I did not tell them that, though. No need to rain on their parade. As Husbinator pointed out though, this week is the first time (of 2) that the word "snow" appears in the Chumash, so that is pretty cute.
For lunch, we had Maya and Gal, a sweet Israeli couple from the neighborhood. I'm thinking that (a) everyone who lives here is unnaturally sweet or (b) that's just the sort of people who welcome the new kids into the community. We had a good time, and Maya made me feel great about my integration into Israeli society. Not only did she compliment my Hebrew, but she knows as little about the US as I know about Israel. When I brought out a banana cream pie for dessert, she said, "Isn't there an expression in English? Something like, 'If you can't make pie, you're not really an American'?"
It transpired that Maya and Gal have eaten with the Barzilai's since I've given Mrs. Barzilai Mrs. Jeremias' apple pie recipe. Maya says Mrs. Barzilai was really happy with the apple cake recipe, and she, Maya, concurs. I went on a very short "it's not cake: it's pie," rant, and then I realized that there is some truth to the expression Maya was looking for. Maybe apple pie doesn't actually sum up the entire American culture, but there does seem to be something about apple pie that gets this
American's radar up.
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