Pesach 5768

We’re cleaning up the house for Pesach. Discarding our chametz, so to speak.

Now, almost daily we toss to a small community of crows who have learned to gather out our back door left hour bread crumbs. With remarkable regularity, they gather about 6:00am, perched atop our trees, the roof, even brazenly stepping up on the steps to the deck. If they think it is getting late (late for what, I wonder), they begin to caw as only a crow can caw. There are few scrawny crows in the vicinity.

But at Pesach there is a great deal of chametz to remove from the house; all of the stuff we haven’t finished, probably never would have finished but could not bear to throw away, and that tends to accumulate. So today we began the cleaning, and I took a great quantity of bread products, granolas, grains and tossed them out into the bird cafeteria. Well, they came en masse while I was tossing, and as a unit they cawed, “Have a good Passover.”

With all the strictures, Passover has always impressed me as very, very confining. I’m trying to see it as a holiday of freedom. I’m trying to relax and truly enjoy seder.

Was laid low with disease this week. On Wednesday I was wonderful, and on Thursday near death’s door. The PA at the clinic said that I had what was going around, but I told her that I thought it had stopped going anywhere when it ran into me. No medicine, just bed rest. I am slowly recovering, but I know I’m really sick when I can’t drink my morning coffee, my evening beer, and lift my head off the pillow ever.

I think its April, but I’m not taking any chances on saying it’s Spring.