March 2003

Hi Guys! Want some SPAM mail? No? Who cares? Read on.

שומרים על הבית שלנו
Politics buffs will doubtless recognize the above as the National Religious Party slogan from the recent (and unnecessary) elections. As a true blue Mafdalnik, I am not just a slogan chanter but living the reality. As we speak, I am posted (“posted” in the military, not the “penny farthing” sense) on “Magen Dan” – a wind and rain-swept hilltop literally 10 minutes walk from our house in Elkana! Of all the hundreds (perhaps thousands) of army bases and outposts with which this country is blessed, the IDF in its unrepayable kindness invited me to spend a month here, “Kalab” (close to home).

In such circumstances, reserve duty routines somewhat differs from the usual. Judy and the children drop by almost every day, and I pop home, when my schedule permits, almost as often, for a decent meal, a decent shower and a decent toilet. Whenever my jeep trundles by the house, which it does several times a day, I call the driver to halt, run out for exactly 30 seconds, and steal a kiss and cuddle from whoever is available (and willing).

The children are brushing shoulders with soldiers like never before. They are popular and frequent visitors on base and know the names of most of the officers and the rank and file. For the boys, coming to visit me is primarily an excuse for an adventure in a military gold-mine (or junk yard). They scour the ground for anything “dangerous”, mainly discarded, rusty shells, and return home with pockets bulging. Naphtali and Elon have built up an impressive slick large enough to get them into trouble some day.

More joys of miluim close to home. Last Thursday night, Maccabi Tel Aviv basketball team was playing Tau Vitoria of Spain in the Euroleague. One army friend asked if he could come round to watch the match. He came…and brought a friend… actually, a couple of friends. Then one of the patrols just happened to drop by. To cut it short, by half-time, our tiny TV room was crammed with half the IDF! (Maccabi won, big time).

Let’s do the rounds of other family members.

Abigail, now 15 months, is the sweetest cutest thing you ever did see, with golden blonde hair, striking blue eyes (no idea whose genes brought those) and a roguish personality. On the roguish side, her favourite games include pulling all the books off the shelves, emptying the linen cupboard of all dish cloths and table cloths, and taking a bath, fully clothed, in mineral water.

On a more feminine note, Abigail has music in her. From the age of maybe six or seven months, the sound of music set her off dancing. Admittedly, the gyrations of a toddler are limited, but even at that tender age she could swish her hips and bop her head. The last few Friday nights she has instituted a compulsory dance round the Shabbat table and will not rest until all seven of us are holding hands and boogying to the cacophonous strains of an Isaacs rendition of “Yachad yachad”.

Orli, now 8, is approaching her debutante ball. Her time is devoted to developing an ever growing circle of friends. As with all young ladies, at any point in time, a number of these friends are out of favour, but with her zest for life and her ability to instantly tie close bonds with almost everything female, she jaunts from house to house and friend to friend with astonishing ease. Every week I have to pick her up from the house of some new totally inseparable “best friend”.

Naphtali, 10, has also moved into the local social scene. He is now of an age to arrange and attend “pegishot” (meetings). It started with pizza for the lads, but rapidly progressed to more adult affairs and entertainment for both the cool guys and the “in” girls. What happens at these “pegishot” I do not know. But they are preceded by numerous phone calls, much surreptitious whisperings and giggling, and a generous portion of juvenile wheeling and dealing. Which brings me to the conclusion that, like so many of our earthly pleasures, the true fun is in the anticipation, rather than the realization.

Eloni, 12, is working hard on preparing his barmitzva – Va'etchanan - which falls some time in August. As his teacher, I am amazed at his motivation, his ability to learn quickly, and the excellence of his memory. Eloni takes well-deserved pride in comparing the length and complexity of his parasha with that of his friends. In almost every case, Eloni’s parasha is demonstrably longer and tougher. This fact, which might depress a lesser man, has become a source of pride to this extraordinary child.

Ari, now 15, has taken control of the religious life of the house. For some time now, he has been learning mishnayot every night (he wanted to finish shas mishnayot in memory of one of his school mates who tragically died of cancer this year). When I waken him for school in the morning, invariably his book of mishnayot is strewn over the bed, still open at the page on which exhaustion overtook erudition. Since I have been on reserve duty, he has started learning Gemarra Megilla, together with Elon, in shul after maariv. What can a father do in such a case, but thank G-d, and wish that he would go to be earlier (Ari, not G-d).

Judy, now 21, is working harder than ever and harder than everyone, and enjoying her baby, in between. No miluim for her to break up the rhythm or give her time to write newsletters.

Busy week ahead. This Shabbat is the barmitzva of Shavit Oberman (son of Judy’s brother David and Yael), and Purim is round the corner. So mazal tov to all relevant, Purim Sameach, and go easy on the Scotch.

Lots of love
Michael, Judy, Ari, Elon, Naphtali, Orli and Abigail Isaacs
Elkana