I used to joke that in my old life in New York, spontaneity was scheduled into Outlook calendars a month in advance (and then people usually canceled because they were too busy).
But after almost a decade in Tel Aviv, I’ve come around to a social contract where no one has plans, which makes it a lot easier to make plans (does that make sense? It does to me).
This past Friday morning, I woke up wanting to cook Shabbat dinner. Between my prolonged trip to the States, the war with Iran and my ankle injury, it had been a few weeks, and the kitchen was calling. It was 8 AM and I hadn’t even invited anyone over yet, but I wasn’t worried. Within a few hours we had a roster of 8 guests, and they’d be arriving at 8 P.M.
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