Shana Tovah?

Have to ask it with a question because today began as pretty much a disaster. We had set the oven to self-clean last night, and when I woke up at 4:30 a.m., unable to get back to sleep (a worrisome trend, unfortunately), I noticed that after the cleaning cycle had ended, the oven door remained locked. I waited until Drew got up and tried to fiddle with it, then I ended up calling the Kenmore Oven folks, who of course couldn't possibly send anyone over to look at the oven today. People: Do you not realize that tonight is one of the holiest of the Jewish year, and that SOME of us may, just may, be planning an elaborate Rosh Hashana meal, and that WE NEED OUR GODDAMNED OVENS TO WORK?!?!?!

Ahem.

The nice lady on the other end of the line suggested I try shutting off the circuit breaker and try to open the oven afterward. Which I did, and the door unlocked....only to break off from the inside layer (apparently our ancient oven has an inside AND outside door). So, basically, our oven door is broken. And I mean BROKEN -- the only way to open and close both layers at a time is to grab them both, press them together and open/close the door. Which works pretty well when the oven is cold, but when it's hot? Well, that's another story.

I was already going on a severe lack of sleep and no breakfast, and I debated all morning whether to call our friends the Petermans (Melissa, my ballet buddy, her husband Steve, daughter Natalie who Rachel worships, and recent bar mitzvah son Jeremy) and just cancel. (I am also nursing an awful cough, and coughing up flem, and now Rachel has gotten it, so I had to explain the expression to her today that "we both sound like a tubercular ward"). But the Petermans have been so generous to us -- they've invited us to stay at their house in Hood River; Natalie is constantly giving Rachel her old toys, jewelry and ballet things, and Melissa takes me to as many Oregon Ballet Theater events as she can, since she's on the board -- and we're not in a position financially to reciprocate. So I figure the best I can really offer is to cook them a great meal as often as they're able to join us, since Melissa hates to cook and cooking is the one affordable skill I can spread around to people who mean something to me. And even if we had to do stewed or fried chicken on top of the stove, I was was determined to see this through. (Could also be the legendary Lednicer stubbornness in me, too, I suppose).

After Drew and I both said hurtful things to each other and then calmed down and discussed the state of our finances yet again, I got to work. I made a lovely challah (forgot the egg brush on top but the Petermans didn't mind -- everyone loved it! They devoured it! And it was 6-foot-long challah! Possibly longer!); a chocolate/vanilla loaf for dessert (I melted some white chocolate, spooned it over the loaf, and sprinkled fresh raspberries on top) and a lamb shoulder and roasted red potatoes with rosemary from our garden. The Petermans contributed a lovely salad and we managed to sit down for dinner before everything got cold...and, really, had a lovely time. The kids love Rachel and they had a great time playing "baseball" upstairs (with big plastic balls and a "bat" that is really a milk jug; Jeremy was so impressed at Rachel's hitting that he came downstairs and told us what a great baseball player she is; she beamed next to him as he told us); and the adults actually got to talk for a while. We sent them home with their own apples, after we split one and had apples with honey at the end of the meal; the last slice of chocolate/vanilla loaf and the rest of the challah. Drew ordered me to get out of the kitchen so he can clean up -- he says it relaxes him -- so I am down here writing on this blog.

So this will be the Rosh Hashana we'll remember as the one when the oven door broke, I had a series of meltdowns because of lack of sleep and food and tremendous worry over our finances -- but my guests left satiated and happy. And so I will put off my worries for another day.