Un-Ironic Gardening

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In an admittedly passive aggressive move after our dog ate through our herb garden, I decided to plant roses. Roses, I thought, have thorns. Also, in my defense, I’ve sort of always wanted roses.

I’ve loved them more than I expected. When we were away this summer, I made my friend whatsapp rose pictures to me as they began to bloom. I visit them outside. I actively engage in their well-being. So when my gardner showed up today, I asked him the best way to trim the roses that have already bloomed. Here’s what I got: a lecture on shmitta and roses. I learned what I would be doing if it were last year and what I would now do because it is this year. And then I just thought how wonderfully incredible that my gardners have this extra layer of knowledge. How wild is it that industry and economy and my grocery store are all taking this seriously, and not in an ironic way, just in a totally genuine way. Cool.

We met friends of ours’ from Cleveland today for lunch. And we talked about this Israel — this non-draining the swamp Israel , where you probably won’t contract malaria anymore and where life is just good. We drank coffee outside Rami Levi where Jews and Arabs shop together and where your shmitta vegetables are proudly on display. I called Yoni a few minutes ago to arrange a carpool from a bar mitzvah he’s at in Carmei Tzur. And all he had to tell me was about the most beautiful sunset he was watching over the hills of Carmei Tzur. Life feels right. Shanna Tova.

 

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