the best kind of problem

Everyone from this side of the pond is coming for the first days of yuntif.   Daughter #1 declared that we could all fit sleeping here.  That was when we thought the weather would be as nice as last year.  It’s probably going to rain.  So we will be squished and one of the sons-in-law will get antsy, but we will be fine.

I am trying to figure out the menu.  I keep notes from year to year, very low-tech handwritten, in my notebook that also has a lot of printed-out recipes from the internet.  But this person can’t eat dairy (that’s 2 people, actually) and that person can’t eat onions (a visiting cousin), and daughter #1 can’t eat garlic, and son-in-law #2 probably wants fish chowder, which I never serve on Shabbos, but he still always requests it…I’ll probably make it for Motzaei Shabbat, though; why not?

And I have to have things that the kiddies will eat, even though each one is picky in her or his own little way.

Underneath is a worry that we will stay safe this year.  Last year on the second day of Sukkot, grandson #2 decided to pull a cup of scalding hot tea on himself.  It became an extended nightmare.  His mother is hyperfocused on that; I was hyperfocused on that last Shavuot when we once again had everyone here and I didn’t want there to be another reason for the “ambulance to come to Savta’s house on yuntif”, as grandson #1 said.  That was following my father’s trip on Pesach, which was during a snowshower to boot, making it even more surreal.  We all stayed safe and healthy and the ambulance did not come to Savta’s house.  So my father has recovered, our grandson still has many issues with impulse control but is healing well, thank G0-d, and I am wrestling with the notion of the ayin hara.

And I like to cook for myself  healthy veggies, lots of healthy veggies.  And I should make myself happy while I’m doing all this work, shouldn’t I?

No one should have a problem with that, should they?

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