With one week to go to Lag B’Omer, the national hunt for wood is at its peak - and I have a stash of what is currently Israel’s most precious commodity hidden in my front garden. I dare not allow it to be visible to passersby for fear that it will be taken by one of the many groups of children who, as I write, are roaming the streets, searching for suitable bonfire material to load onto hijacked supermarket trolleys.

The pieces of wood in my garden are destined to be signposts that will be hammered in at various points along the route of the community walk in aid of Habayit shel Benji, Benji’s Home for lone soldiers, which takes place this Friday. (See my previous post for more details about the walk.)

The last time a similar wood collection lay in our front garden was more than a decade ago, when my son was in primary school. He and his friends had amassed the wood for their school Lag B’Omer bonfire and were storing it here. The next day, a group of vociferous eight-year-olds removed the wood, claiming it was up for grabs because it was on public view. They harangued my son when he attempted to reason against this logic and only very reluctantly relinquished two small pieces of wood from their overflowing trolleys.

After this rather unpleasant experience, it’s not surprising that I’m keeping an anxious lookout now. And as I’m not due to be relieved of the heavy responsibility of guarding the signs until Thursday, we’re not out of the woods yet.