I've done a few month-long challenges now: A month without sugar, my month of living zero-waste, and of course my totally failed month of waking up early (expect an update on that one as I re-attempt to become a morning person). This April—kind of in honor of Passover—I decided to give going a Kosher a try. How hard could it be?
As a kid, I always had a vision that Kosher food involved some rabbi standing in front of an assembly line of package food, blessing it as it passes. This isn't exactly how it works (unless is secretly is, in which I need someone in the know to contact me immediately!)
Read MoreI'M A HOLZGANG.
For me, growing up, that came with some expectations for how I behaved and conducted myself in public. A lot of it was little things. Such as, when you're a Holzgang you correct every single person who goes, "Oh! you're German" to explain that "actually, I'm Swiss." Others where a little bigger. For example, I have vivid memories of being told "Holzgangs don't quit" on multiple occasions. Like that time in 5th grade when I didn't feel like practicing violin and my dad made me practice Simple Gifts over and over saying, "Holzgangs don't quit." (I can still play that song by memory on every instrument I own.) Or the time in 7th grade when I'd been attacked by hornets (itchy, painful hornet bits all over my body) and I still had to go to volleyball practice that day because Holzgangs don't quit. Or that time when I was 30 and decided to give up alcohol for 100 days but then got a really exciting job offer and wanted to have a sip of champaign to celebrate but couldn't because Holzgangs don't quit, and when I talked to my mom about it she laughed because apparently my dad quits stuff all the time.... wait, what?!
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