This has never happened before. 2 newsletters in 10 days! Not really, this is a short addendum to the previous newsletter, as you will see below...

ISAACS FAMILY NEWSLETTER March 2021, Afternoon edition

Remember newspaper “afternoon editions”? As a child, on seeing high-street hawkers shouting “Extra! Extra! Read all about it”, I often wondered what news the late editions contained that the early ones did not. Political items of import like the football scores. This half-size newsletter is the Extra for March 2021. One of my offspring was insulted that I excluded the children from the recent update - sidelined by grandchildren and a kitchen cupboard – so  I was compelled to provide an addendum (just one page, I promise) covering the core family.

A.I. Come Home

The “Bring Ari Isaacs Home” campaign persists. Do not judge this campaign on its merits or on its chances of success. It is an expression of our love and yearning to see our son/brother/uncle after over a year. There is a ray of hope. The Israel High Court ruled to cancel the limitation on the number of people allowed to enter Israel. While one can only wonder if these esteemed jurists have any idea of what the hell has been going on in the world for the last 12 months, one must be thankful because maybe Ari could soon pop home for a visit.

Elon goes Mental

Elon exploited the Covid lockdown to raising Dori (7 months), and to upskill from “magician” to “mentalist” (or in Hebrew אומן חושים  which Google translated for me as “artist senses”). Elon’s “mentalist” tricks are crazy. I saw him perform live in Elkana last week. He causes people to forget numbers and even their own names. He makes people feel their legs are so heavy that they can’t lift them off the ground, and their arms so rigid, they can’t bend them.  See it with your own eyes. Follow Elon on Facebook and Instagram.

Mr. Naphtali, Sir

Naphtali’s waking hours are devoted to two things - work and cycling to work. He was put in charge of a team of developers several months ago and is discovering the challenges of management. His employees are based in Georgia, which isn’t easy, but it does reduce the risk of them garroting him. I was, and am, a lousy manager. I enjoyed training people in new skills, but managing time and tasks was always a chore. I don’t know how Naphtali sees his professional future, but I have one excellent tip for him: Don’t ask Dad for advice.

Orly: You have reached your destination

Despite sleepless nights, Orly is enjoying motherhood, doting over iResistible Ram (and not going to work). Orly is one of the three tidy children in the family. When she enlists my help to get things for the baby – which, to be honest, happens several times a day – her instructions are impeccable, like “It’s in the small chest of drawers, in the second drawer on the left, at the right side, underneath the blue vest…”. Her brain is a visual database with Sat Nav. 

Abigail empowered

When Abigail was interviewed for national service, she explained very clearly where her skills and interests lie. Her employers found her a position that, on paper, matched her preferences to a tee. Except, that she HATED the job. Abigail requested to change role – something which doesn’t happen where she is. But with persistence, after three months, her transfer was approved. And she LOVES her new job. I know you won’t fall off your chairs in shock that Abi is also planning to join the family business and study… wait for it…computer science. Those who thought the family business might be “Linguistics and English Literature” are dear to my heart, but out of touch.

Elisheva’s anniversary

I have an eerie hesitation before penning this next item. In my December 2017 newsletter, I introduced you to one boy-friend and two-girl friends. Three years later, they had all become “in-laws”. Such is the power of a newsletter. Now, I take the step of introducing  you to Elisheva’s boyfriend of 11 months, Nitay, you can expect perhaps a bigger announcement around April 2024 (no pressure, kids). Let’s not forget, though, that he is too young to vote, and she is too young to drive. Nevertheless, this is no “one-year stand”. They are a sweet and devoted couple. So who knows? I got the okay from Elisheva to go public with her “good news”. I think she is actually looking forward to the publicity.

 ISAACS FAMILY NEWSLETTER March 15, 2021

If social media is like breaking news, then Isaacs family newsletters are like those end-of-year items on TV that capture everything you already forgot that happened in the last 12 months. Newsletters offer not so much news as perspective. I should change the name to “perspective-letters”, but it’s a bit of a mouthful (as are some newsletters).  

And this I say because by now most of you already know that Orly and Chen have a beautiful baby boy, named Ram Rachamim, born 32 days ago, exactly 6 months and 1 day after granddaughter #1 Dori, daughter of Elon and Leetal. I am pleased to announce further that on motsash Ram was redeemed from a Cohen (pidyon ha’ben) and is now irrefutably 100% the property of his parents. Let’s start with the grandkids.

Dori the Delicious

Dori is the sweetest baby I have ever known, raised wonderfully by two skilled and devoted parents. She has a gorgeous, ready laugh and Elon has dozens of tricks and games that never fail to make her giggle. With her father to entertain her, for Dori, Life is like bingeing on an endless stream of Monty Python,  Not the Nine O’clock News and Mr. Bean. An extremely healthy way to start and live Life.

Dori is heavily into pre-speech, always expressing her desires and complaints with a cute sort of guttural pre-roar which Mummy Leetal knows to translate into “I am hungry”, “I am tired” or “Change the channel”. I wait impatiently for the day when we can have our first conversations. Ironic, really, how there are some people you yearn to hear speak, while there are others you pray would shut up (mainly politicians).

Ram the R… (can’t think of a word starting with R that describes him)

Ram is also the sweetest baby I have ever known with gorgeous big blue eyes, and an expression of wonder on his face at the new and strange world around him. He hardly cries (at least when I am around) without a very, very good reason, and is totally irresistible. Ram the iRresistible (second letter R).

As you may recall, Orly and Chen live in our granny flat, which means Judy and I are very available and active grandparents, especially thanks to Covid19 which has us Working From Home.  Whenever Orly needs to rest, bath the baby or even “powder her nose”, there are two quinquagenarians eager to answer the call for help. Judy takes night shifts, often tending Ram till late. I do mornings. Typically, around 8.15, as I am at shul (or rather davening in the street minyan), I get a recorded whatsapp from Orly in a pitiful, pleading voice: “Ram didn’t sleep all night. I am exhausted. Can you look after him please?” “Sure I can, I answer. Orly: “And oh, and I think he might be dirty”.

A Grandpa never shirks his duty. I gleefully change (yes “gleefully”), swaddle, sing and send Ram back to sleep in the mornings, while I zoom with my work colleagues.

I actually managed to impress Orly - for the first time in about 25 years - with my nappy-changing skills, although that brief glow in the limelight rapidly dulled when Orly discovered that the intricacies of nappy changing can be mastered in a week.

Great Grandma Boobie Barbara also gets in on the act. Fully vaccinated, she is finally emerging from her near 12-month self-isolation and taking up her great-grandmotherly responsibilities, holding the baby for hours.

With 7 months of grandparenthood under our belts, I believe that despite all the superlatives, Grandparenthood is still under-rated. It’s hard to express in words the inner sense of joy and being blessed that warms the heart of a grandparent.

And now for something completely different

My line of business has a jargon that to outsiders sounds like Chinese, with a Scottish accent. And in my world “Transformation” is a favourite buzzword. Transformations don’t always succeed, unfortunately, because successful transformations require a new mindset. And with that intro, we can start.

Several months ago, our kitchen looked like the Gorbals in the ‘50’s, after hurricane Katrina. Doors, handles and surfaces were chipped, cracked, broken, water-damaged or simply absent. Add to that, an over-zealous “cleaner” who enthusiastically scrubbed our floor with some shiny new cleaning material that turned our white tiles black. Even I, the miserly Scot, admitted a kitchen makeover was in order.

As you would expect, Judy did everything – selecting the floor tiles, cupboards, interior design, lighting, overseeing the destruction and reconstruction of our kitchen – a story that deserves a newsletter of its own. But that is not our topic. Suffice it to say that after a lot of time, effort, mileage, and - let’s face it – money, we installed a beautiful new floor and a gorgeous country-style kitchen.

The only problem is that we are not exactly a tidy family. In fact, when someone entered our house, our knee-jerk greeting was not “Hello” but “Excuse the mess”. You see, if tidiness is next to G-dliness, then our house was located in Purgatory - near the southern exit. Only the most charitable people could call our house “messy”. It was more a primordial chaos. Strewn around our downstairs on the floor and couches you would find school books, earrings, pens, tipped-over plants, earphones, smelly socks, discarded tea bags, sandals, pillows, ketchup, used tissues, anti-perspirants, tooth brushes, nail clippers and other items that simply make one ask “how the hell did this get into the lounge?”. Our kitchen counter-tops fared no better. They were hardly visible  beneath the clutter of grills (milk and meat), toasters (sandwich and pop-up), kettles (regular and shabbas kettle which stayed on the counter all week),  forgotten peanut-butter jars, half-eaten apples, cheese and yoghurt cartons (their lids typically near the TV), school report cards, hairbrushes and so on. I used to spend two hours every Friday just putting things away before starting to clean for Shabbat.

That was before the “Transformation”.

Now, today, I challenge every one of you to knock on our door, at any hour of day or night, for a surprise inspection. You will find not a crumb on the counter; not a paper out of place. Order and serenity rule. Our kitchen could be a Feng Shui showroom, with the whole downstairs brightly illuminated to show our beautiful tidy house at its best.

This Transformation was not painless. Instigated by Sergeant Major Judy it involved months of warnings and threats, and much shouting to knock us into shape. This went explicitly against our parenting philosophy which did not prescribe a messy house, but included a commitment not to make our children’s lives miserable by bawling them out the whole time. However, with only Elisheva at home full time – and she is one of the three children in the family with a tidy streak – the timing was right.

In my business, it is a common truth that while executing a transformation is tough, the day 1 results are not a reliable indicator of success. We are at about Day 80 and still the order persists. So has the mindset changed? Have we become tidy? Or is this a mere temporary phase driven by our CoviD stay-at-home life, and the mortal fear of Judy’s wrath? Will the rot set in? Who knows? Fortunately, we can look to future newsletters for the answer.

No space for a full family update this time. Pesach sameach from us all.

Judy, Michael and all the extended family, Elkana