Hurry, hurry, rush, rush...

Erev Rosh Hashanah - a big, scruffy, non-religious woman is up at 7am making challah and potato kugel.  The choices to be made at the early hour are endless - to grate the potatoes by hand or to use the food processor, to make only a kugel or to add another carb dish, to add more eggs to the challah or not.  Such are the earth-shattering problems facing me this morning.

My cousins,Masha, Alter and their daughter, Sylvia.

When I potter around my kitchen in the early hours with no disturbance I feel a bit like Mickey Mouse in the Sorcerer's Apprentice.  One little drop of food that dirties the counter top turns into showers of disarray that seem to grow and grow.  I had to stop for a short breathing break before I tackle the food  preparation tornado that seems to have inhabited my kitchen.

I am ridiculously happy doing this.  As I chop and fold and mix, I sing and am in a real place of meditation.  I wonder if there is a cooking medition.  I think I will name it the Balaboosta mediation.

'Balaboosta (n.)(bah-lah-b00-sta) A Yiddish term meaning the perfect housewife, homemaker, wonderful mother, cook, and gracious hostess. She does it all and does it well.'

This new meditation can be done by men or women, but it does involve whizzing round the kitchen, chopping here, tasting there, stirring as needed, watching that nothing burns, all while setting a table,vacuuming, doing laundry and importantly, singing.

I don't think today is much of a day for writing - more of  cooking and cleaning and meditating.  I love that my mum is watching and I know she's happy.  If only I could get my matzo balls as good as hers, my meditation might be complete and I might even get enlightened.

I'll let you know!