smells from downstairs, in 5777

I'm in my office. My son is downstairs cooking something divine for me and Wayson, who will arrive shortly for dinner; the smell in this house is making my mouth water. Sam just shouted with joy - a small plane was circling overhead, bearing a banner advertising Harry's, his new restaurant, which opens next week. And once it does, he will not be working in my kitchen any more, he will be working at Harry's.

I realized this morning that my body ached, my shoulders and neck stiff with tension - because of yesterday's events. It was terrifying, wondering if that young woman, carrying a huge burden of grief and pain, was all right. A tremendous relief to hear that she took herself somewhere where she'd be looked after. Thank you, thank you to our medical system, which provides a large hospital where people not in physical but in psychological distress will be cared for. May she emerge soon and better.

Our world is not in a good place. The images from Syria alone are beyond bearing, let alone so many other troubled places. Why now are these appalling human beings emerging triumphant - especially Trump and Putin, but many others? A recent article in the New Yorker I haven't been able to tackle yet on the new face of fascism in Germany - a beautiful young woman. Why is racism, sexism and xenophobia flourishing? How is it possible that a man like Donald Trump, mind-bogglingly ignorant and vile, commands an enormous amount of our time and energy?

Stop. Concentrate on the gifts - those smells from the young man at work, creating something wonderful in the kitchen; the roses, the grey sky, the trees still green, the season shifting and the planet turning, as it does. As it has. And then, go back to work.

It's the Jewish New Year. Happy 5777 to you all.