Unleavened bread shall be eaten seven days; and there shall no leavened bread be seen with thee, neither shall there be leaven seen with thee in all thy quarters.
Likewise seven days shall ye eat the curd of the lemon, being mingled with sugar and the yolk of the egg; upon unleavened bread shalt thou eat it. The curd of the lime and of the orange shalt thou not eat; the curd of the lemon only shalt thou eat.
My least favourite part of Pesach is the bit where you try and pack all the things back into their boxes. Ten days ago they all fitted into the boxes, and you've not bought anything new, but they jolly well don't fit any more. Then you try and tape the boxes closed (because if you don't, you have to start Pesach next year by washing off the dust bunnies and cockroach corpses) and the tape breaks.
But it's done now. Done, scrubbed, vacuumed; other Domestic Things such as planting basil also Done; all good. We would have 100% domesticity WIN except that we haven't done the ironing yet; the dog has decided that the ironing basket is her new favourite place to sleep, and it would be mean to disturb her from her nap.
Oh, charoset awesomeness: grinding up roughly-equal quantities of dates, prunes, apricots, figs, walnuts, fresh apple, and raisins. Some cinnamon. Slosh in enough wine to make it a dough, and shape into balls. Except that this year I couldn't find dried figs, only a jar of fig preserves. This made the whole thing gooey enough that shaping into balls wasn't happening; it had roughly the consistency of jam, and it was yummy.
Finally, a First: yesterday was the first time in my life ever that I've chosen one brand in the supermarket over another because it had my shul's hashgacha. Flour, for the record, and the KAJ hashgacha. What have I become?