So in Israel, Sunday is a weekday. Yom Rishon (Sunday), avodah (work), as the song goes. Pretty much every immigrant to Israel will bemoan the loss of a Sunday to catch up on errands and relaxing family time. Considering how much time Taxman’s spent working on Sundays (either at the office or from home) over the past nine years–the past five in particular–it hasn’t seemed like a huge loss.
But we’re really missing some solid time to get things accomplished. Like unpacking. Or exploring Israel. Friday, though not a work day, is a school day for the kids (so we get to sneak out to breakfast from time to time) and winds up requiring some sort of Shabbat prep–either packing to go away, cooking, or, at a minimum, cleaning the floor at the last possible minute.
Around the time that my sister-in-law suggested that Taxman’s family clan have an American-style Thanksgiving dinner, I decided to make a whole weekend out of it. Pull the kids out of school Friday and use our national parks pass. Go away for Shabbat. Relax for once.
And so we did. Turkey dinner with stuffing. (There was other stuff too, but when your Thanksgiving dinner in the ’00s has consisted of poached salmon and pasta salad, you tend not to notice once the turkey, stuffing, and gravy comes back into your life.) Penny poker. Kids had a grand old time sleeping over with their cousins and went to bed outrageously late. Spent time poking around Crusader ruins on a brilliantly beautiful Friday morning. Bought hats and baked goods in Bnei Brak. Shabbat plans had gotten switched around due to illness, but I invited us to Chez AliyahbyAccident (I knew she was already cooking!). Food was lovely and we (read: the children) made a huge mess of their living room.
We finished our weekend with two episodes of Season 1 of The West Wing and two loads of laundry. At last!