A couple of days ago, frustrated with all the Passover preparations, I published a post here that was intended to be a joke. Admittedly, the only people who seemed to get it were my husband, Yosef, who laughed out loud when he opened it, and my sisters, who know me too well to think it was anything otherwise. After I had posted it, Yosef half-joked, “Now you have to write a more serious post about Passover,” and I laughed and said, “I’ve literally got nothing to say about it this year.” I was fed up — with the Passover preparations which seemed to be endless and more exhausting with each passing day, and with my attitude to the festival, in general, this year. Which, it appeared, was basically non-existent.