As Promised: Juicy Details

Yes, I know this is tacky. But I'm going to copy an email just received from Simon, the guy from the post office. I swear to never tell him!

I have to explain one of his comments, as he mentions someone was supposed to be in line between us. What I neglected to write yesterday was that I had placed my package on the floor to hold my place in line, as is a common practice here. A man saw my package and walked right in front of it, skipping line on purpose, then refused to look at me! That's when I asked Simon to save my spot in line.

Here's Simon's email in its entirety, though I did change my name:
____________________________________________________________________

Hi Yaakova, I think we were meant to meet yesterday, you know the old man did not get in our way, he was suppose to be in line between you and me. Anyway, how are you today, did you have a good night sleep? I did not because I was thinking about you, what about a couple of drinks tonight? By the way you really made laugh with your questions at the post office counter...

Ok Yaakova, I hope you're having a great day and hope to hear from you soon, Bye
Simon

_____________________________________________________________________

Well, hmm.. Guess I'll just have to email back and arrange something.

Simon may not be Mr. Right, but he just might be Mr. Right Now!

Update: Here is my response, just emailed to Simon. And yes, I am a very cheeky girl!

Begin:

Hi Simon,
Receiving your email was a nice surprise!

You really want to get together on Halloween?? Isn't that a bit of a risky proposition?! {insert vampire laugh here.} And what if trick-or-treaters knock on my door, and nobody answers?
Yaakova :)

Things that make you go "Hmmm"

After posting about my nightmare of a date (it is Halloween tomorrow, after all...), I decided to give myself until 4 p.m. to sulk and erase Alain from my mind. So I jumped back in bed, threw the covers over my head, ate some Halloween candy that was intended for trick-or-treaters, and felt sorry for myself for 1.5 hours. Then I went to the post office to mail a package, and that's where...

...I met Simon. Here's how it happened: I hurriedly asked the man behind me to keep my place in line while I went to look for an address label. He said "Sure, and I'll hold your package, too." (He wasn't even concerned that I might be a terrorist!)

I really should wear makeup on a regular basis. What results!

So when I returned (and noticed that he's tall and handsome), he said he'd be happy to mail the package, as well. To which I coily responded "But you wouldn't know the address." He replied, "I don't care where it's going; I only care about the return address." Gulp. This guy appears to be a World-Class Flirter! Can I keep up??

{Brief intermission while I stop Truffle from flailing the cat's bed around the room in her mouth.}

Where was I? Oh yeah... So he asked what I do for a living, etc. Small talk, you know... He said he has a condo on the beach, his second home, and would I like to come to the beach before the weather gets too cold? I could bring my dog; he has a boat; why don't I come over and he will show us around. (Yes, I have to interject my dog into EVERY conversation!) I learned that he's from Venezuela. He looks to be about 40. He asked, so I gave him my business card.

Fast forward to the postal desk: the employee guys say, "Hi, Simon! How are ya?" So I ask, "You guys know Simon?"
"Yep, he's been coming here for years!"
"Is Simon a good guy?"
"He's great!"
So I go, (clearly emboldened by my date-gone-wrong): "Is Simon MARRIED?"
Customers and employees laughed. I don't care.
Simon quietly said to me "Divorced."
Eureka.

And the moral of the story is: I really should use makeup on a regular basis.

Damn

He wasn't wearing a ring.

I never even thought to ask.

He certainly doesn't act married.

He took me out to lunch, we had a lovely time, then we walked through the park, sat, and talked. That's when he dropped the bomb: he wants to be closer to me, to touch me, to be totally open with me, yada yada, then: he's in a "broken marriage."

For your information, Alain: a broken marriage is one in which there has been a divorce. Not one in which you still live with your wife and nine-year-old son, and your mother-in-law, a Holocaust survivor, lives next door.

He wants to be with me, feels close to me, but recognizes that I deserve to know the truth, to make my own decision. He said he's only staying in the marriage until his son is old enough to emotionally handle a divorce. (Is there ever a time when children can handle their parents' divorce?)

I told him that no, of course I couldn't be involved with a married man. The circumstances of his marriage and his unhappiness in it are not for me to involve myself in. I told him he's doing the right thing by remaining married; he made a decision and he should stay with it. That he owes it to his son, if to no one else.

While I know that some marriages aren't worth keeping, I'm certainly not going to give anyone rationalization for an affair, or tell someone they should get a divorce. Obviously.

I don't plan to see him or talk with him again. I told him we'd remain friends-- but I know we won't. It's all raw right now. Thank you, Baleboosteh and EmahS, for your kind words. I know you'll be sad right along with me.

Ouch.

And Another Thing:

Just because I'm proud of myself, I'll tell you what I did today. This is noteworthy only because trust me, I'm no domestic diva. But residing with 2 dogs and 2 cats takes its toll in a hurry.

Here are my accomplishments:

• Poured scented baking soda on all carpets and vacuumed them
• Spot-cleaned carpets, too.
• Laundered many dog-scented linens
• Changed cat-hair-decorated bedding (my bed, not theirs)
• Bathed 2 dogs
• And still found time to spray Miracle-Grow on front and back gardens, gift-wrap and package birthday gifts for my nephew and sister-in-law, and make banana bread.

There are still seven items remaining on today's "to do" list, but that's just too bad. I'm tired.

There's Something About Alain...

Because I evidently don't have Evan's high moral standards about blogging discretion, I'll dish about all the gory details of my love life for my readers' amusement!!

But first, let me say I'm shocked, SHOCKED, I tell you, that the two readers who gave a "thumbs up" to the idea of my exploring things with Alain were the very two whom I had assumed would find it anathema for me to date a Jewish/Israeli man. (That's a laugh: it's out of my entire readership of 4 bloggers, or maybe 5!) Well, you know what they say about assuming!
Here's a little more info. about our introduction: I was shy and affected around him. Why is it that I can't seem to express myself openly when I'm around the very people with whom I want to do so? (OK, the last sentence was a grammatical nightmare. I don't even know how to begin repairing it, so I hope you got the gist.)

I said dumb things, like that I didn't know there were reform synagogues in Israel. He just looked at me like I was from outer space. I MEANT that I thought the Reform movement was an American phenomenon, and I DO know that there are roughly equivalent temples in Israel, but not exactly like American reform temples.

And when discussing food, he asked me if I like hummus. I blanked on what hummus is. How could I draw a blank on what hummus is??!! How embarrassing! I think that knowing what hummus is, is possibly even more of a prerequisite to making aliyah than visiting Israel!! I KNOW what it is (and I love it), but I had so many thoughts going through my mind at once (since this was all right after finding out he's Israeli), that I remember thinking: hummus--sesame tahini--garbanzo beans--chickpeas--baba ganouj-- I mean, there was an entire Middle-Eastern sampler platter going on in my head!

To make matters worse, I recommended that he purchase Sabra brand hummus from Publix (because it really is delicious), and (of course) I didn't mention that I DO know what a sabra is. I'm sure he just thinks I'm totally clueless. He replied that he won't be buying hummus at Publix, because he makes his own. (Who ever heard of making your own hummus?! THAT was news to me!)

It was an altogether humiliating -- or maybe just very humbling-- conversation. I had a LOT more confidence with him before discovering his nation of origin! Confidence is never a problem for me-- until I need it most!!

He did call to set a date: lunch, tomorrow. (Why not dinner??)
So now I'm shaving my legs, cleansing my pores, straightening my hair, fretting about what to wear, and all that fun stuff. I'm sure you know the drill.

We shall see how our lunch date goes. He probably thinks I'm the craziest goy he's ever met.
I think he may be right.

Stay tuned!
:)

An Enchanted Evening

Tonight I went to such a great party! It was another Realtor reception, but it had a Halloween theme. I actually attended it because the menu was so creative! They had all this ghoulish stuff that was really amazingly presented, and the party was one of the best events I've been to. It didn't hurt, either, that I won $100 in cash, and got a Starbucks gift certificate to boot. :)

As I was touring the model home just prior to heading off to the second party of the evening, a man followed me upstairs and into the master suite. He looked good, so I thought, what's the harm in talking a little? He introduced himself as Alain, and we had a really good time laughing and talking about real estate. He's cosmopolitan and smart, and did I mention good looking? When I was ready to go, he wanted to talk more, so I invited him to the next party. We spent more time together, and he noticed my Hebrew necklace pendant and asked if I know how to read it. (BTW, translated, my pendant says "God bless you and keep you," and I can read it-- but only very slowly!)

Later in the conversation, I asked him about his slight accent and his name, since his first name is obviously French. I had started to wonder... Who is this guy?? Is he French? Well, I definitely wasn't ready for the answer: he's Israeli! (Needless to say, there are not a lot of sabras in central Florida.) That sure gave us a lot more to talk about!

When it was time to go, he asked if he could see me again and gave me a very warm hug.

I don't know what to do... I've been down this road many times before. All I truly have to offer him is friendship, as much as I'd love to explore other options. He asked me if I'm planning to convert (that's definitely the question of the year), and I told him no, that I am a Christian. We shall see how it all unfolds...

Another update

Hi All, and sorry for my longish blog absence.
It was a busy week. Caring for Truffle --plus Angel, Indy and Monaco has turned my home into quite the fragile ecosystem! Here's how it all goes:

Truffle has to wear booties (which we made, and she loves to remove) when walking on my terrazzo floors. In addition to booties, I put down that ugly non-slip gripper stuff everywhere there aren't carpets, because it's imperative for her healing that Truffle doesn't slip. There are also now 3 barricades inside my house, so she won't wander from room to room. It looks like indoor pastures. Truffle is still a puppy, so she keeps trying to charge at the cats, and frightens them. They dislike being in the room with her, so I keep them all separated with the barricades. But Truffle barks if I leave her alone, and Angel whines if left alone with her. The only way to keep the peace is for me to keep both of them with me ALL THE TIME.
Truffle and Angel keep trying to rough-house, 2 or 3 times a day, and I live in fear that her surgery will be made ineffective because of their playing. And she likes to do weird things. Twice, she's climbed into the bathtub. (Why?) Yesterday, she leaped onto my desk, when I had to seclude her in my office so she'd calm down. I'm terrified of admitting this to the vet. (I did arrive in time to safely remove her from atop the desk.)

In other news, Mom and I got along better than ever before. Not a single real fight in 2 weeks-- that is definitely some kind of record for us. I reiterated to her that she's always welcome to come and live with me, and she actually didn't recoil in horror! That's real progress.
She's now in Africa, but last week, we were also busy having lunches and dinners with our friends. This is important because her friends often become my clients. we went to 4 such engagements. It was a very expensive week all around.

And you really wouldn't believe me if I told you how many times we went to WalMart! Try EVERY DAY... Mom kept remembering items she needed for her (deluxe, all expenses included) African safari, so WalMart became our second home. What happened to my glamorous life?! I want it back!!

Last night I had a dinner at my home, which I was really too tired to prepare, so I took the whole day to make it. It wasn't attended as well as I had planned, so I have about a ton of (fattening) leftovers in my fridge. Such is life.

I'm now off to my subdivision's Annual Meeting, and for once I don't even mind going. I'm the 1st vice president of the neighborhood association, and I'm not accepting the position again this year. They finally found someone to replace me (HOORAY!!), so I don't even have to feel guilty!! Since this will be my last mandatory appearance, I won't begrudge those stodgy characters the waste of 3 more hours of my time. :)

Update

Hi All,
It's been a week of ups and downs.
Mom and Truffle arrived, and we (Mom and I, not the dogs) ate under the sukkah all week. That was really cool, and Mom enjoyed it. :)

Thursday was Truffle's surgery, and it was a doozy indeed. I was mistaken about what she needed before; the surgery she had is called a TPO, in order to correct her hip dysplasia. They have to correct this during puppyhood, while her bones are still soft, and the damage isn't too advanced yet. So they cut her pelvic bone in 3 places, and installed hardware. She will almost certainly go through the same surgery (on the other hip) in 2 weeks. Yikes.

After the surgery, a resident called with a progress report, and said there was a possibility they would have to re-do the entire surgery the following day, due to complications. OMG. That made for a very difficult evening, especially for Mom. By yesterday morning, the prognosis had improved, and they didn't need to re-do the surgery.

She's now at home and doing quite well, considering all she has been through. She even wagged her tail today. If I were on the massive doses of pain medication she's taking, I'd be wagging my tail, too! (Anyone need pain meds?? We have a ton!! LOL :))

I hope everyone enjoyed Simchas Torah and the final days of Sukkot. As for me, today I had a small luncheon at my home to celebrate. I had Yetta and John over, along with Mom and me. Upon request, I served some of Mom's Jewish favorites from childhood: borscht with sour cream (Breakstones, as she will accept no imitations!), lox and bagels, cheese blintzes with applesauce, honey and more sour cream than you could ever imagine, and for dessert, coffee, apple strudel with ice cream, and marbled halvah.

Health food it was not, but it sure was comfort food! Especially for Mom and Yetta, who were loving the borscht. Hmmm... I loved it all, except that. I wonder what John thought of it all. He saw me at my absolute Jewish best, and Yetta called me a "typical Jewish mother." Yes, people, this is what a product of intermarriage looks like!!!

I don't think John and I will be dating, but he could be a great friend. I think all this stuff was just a little too foreign to him, and I don't feel like holding back who I really am anymore to make men feel more comfortable. I also don't enjoy being with men who don't care about Israel, whether or not they're Jewish. (That's not the case with John, but it has been a frequent problem.)

To answer a question Baleboosteh recently posed, some of the reasons I'm not married (at age 39), are that on one hand, I "seem" more stereotypically Jewish, if there is such a thing. By this I mean that I speak my mind, I'm not a typical meek, sweet Christian girl. This intimidates most Christian men (even pro-Israel Christian men), because being with a strong and opinionated woman who is willing to openly disagree is unfortunately not comfortable for many Christians in romantic relationships.

On the other hand, obviously most Jewish guys, many of whom feel very comfortable with my relating style (see above), would not be good marriage possibilities for me because of important differences in our beliefs (read: Jesus).

The really good news in all this is that at my age, I no longer have a burning desire to get married. If it happens someday, great. If not, that's fine too. It's very liberating to be at this stage (at long last!) I also have a feeling that given my background, personality and faith, there would likely be a lot more (male) possibilities for me in Israel. I am thoroughly looking forward to investigating this when I go there this spring! I'll start dieting tomorrow!! :)

Thanks for tuning in!

I want a hug, too!

I was grinning ear to ear while watching this sweet video on youtube!
Now I want a hug! :)

Sukkahblog

I'm posting from a new location tonight, all snuggled into my sukkahbed. So is Angel, who clearly assumes that it's her bed, too. (That may be because I'm using "her" old quilt --washed, of course-- as a bedspread. She doesn't get on my regular bed unless she is very frightened.)

Hold on, I think a bug is crawling on me.

Sleeping in this rickety structure is really improving my commitment to prayer! Even as I write, I'm praying that it won't collapse on me in my sleep.

Two more mosquitoes are visiting.

I don't know how they put up with this for 40 years. Unless I'm mistaken, they didn't even have air mattresses back then. Or Advil. I have it so easy comparatively. Still, G-d really knows how to bring a lesson home! I mean, who else could have come up with such a multi-faceted holiday?

It's also fascinating to me that those who were part of the original desert experience were exempt from keeping succot. That shows His trademark lovingkindness.

These mosquitoes seem to be on a vendetta. They'd better stop biting me, if they know what's good for them. The word vendetta is about to take on a whole new meaning if they don't watch out.

Big subject change, with no segue:

I haven't written much about my mom's upcoming visit. She will fly in tomorrow with her dog, Truffle. This is a very big and complicated situation, which is why I haven't delved into it before.

Here it is: Truffle, her 10 month old chocolate labrador retriever puppy, needs surgery. I feel very conflicted, because I'm not sure surgery is really in Truffle's best interest. It may actually show more compassion to have her ...you know... But it's not my decision to make. She has severe hip problems, and is coming here because there is a special veterinary facility near my home. There are only 2 places in north and central Florida that perform the surgery she needs; a total hip replacement on one side. On the other side, they will break her leg in 3 places, then screw it all back together. The thought of putting her through all this is very, very difficult.

She needs to remain here for the recuperation period. So Mom will stay here to care for her for almost 2 weeks, then she is going to Kenya on a (pre-scheduled) safari. Truffle will live at my home through December 19th, and I will see her through the second surgery. I will then fly her home to Mom at Christmastime.

Like I said, it's complicated. I know she's "just a dog," but still... please keep her in your prayers.

The Sukkah is up-- again!

So on Friday, John offered to help me with the sukkah. (Hallelujah! Success on all fronts!)
He invited me to attend church with him his morning, then he took me to brunch, then we came to my house and he put up the sukkah. I learned some interesting things about John, for example he's a writer of the mystery thriller genre. I also learned that carpentry is not one of his skills. In fact, it's fascinating to me that the sukkah is still standing five minutes after his departure.

My first tip-off that he's not headed for a successful career in the building trades: even though I bought an electric drill, and had drill bits and screws assembled for just this purpose, he requested a hammer and proceeded to pound all the screws into the wood! Then he was frustrated because the screws didn't want to stay put. I didn't say to him, Well, DUH, that's what happens when you hammer in screws, thereby enlarging the holes (but believe me, I was definitely thinking that at nearly audible levels)!!

For some reason, he opted not to use the brackets. At all. I am not sure what his reasoning was. At this point, if I'm to use his abilities as a handy person around the house as my guide (which is probably not advisable, come to think of it), I will definitely not be choosing to date him.

I'm sure that if we had reversed our roles; if I had been the project manager and he had been the helper, the sukkah would be a lot more secure at this very moment. But that was sadly not the case. There are some women who are adept at the skill of allowing a man to feel like he's in charge while simultaneously telling him what to do. I am not one of those women. To my chagrin, that skill has evaded me completely. I would probably be happily married right now if I had that skill.

I will try to post a picture of John with the wobbly sukkah's bare-bones structure in a moment (if blogger.com cooperates, which it definitely has not been concerning the posting of pictures...)

If John is reading this, thank you very much for helping me put up the sukkah. It's the thought that counts. :)

Here's a joke (on me):

Q: How do you bring down a sukkah?
A: You try to set it up.

Grrrr....
I may need an alcoholic beverage.

Sukkah How-To

Amazingly, my sukkah just got built in under 1.5 hours! It's still upside-down, awaiting any kind soul who will help me flip it over, but it's built. I'll buy batteries for my camera today!!
Here are some pointers:

• If shalom bayis is important to you, don't build a your own sukkah.
• Build your sukkah either alone or with someone you dislike, because you are likely to harm them, probably intentionally.
• For added challenge and frustration, build a sukkah according to its (many!) talmudic laws.
• Get twice as many brackets as you think you'll need, because let me tell you, you figured WRONG in your calculations.
• Buy wood reinforcements for the top, unless you want the added excitement of palm fronds and lumber falling on you.

Sukkah Reflections:
I no longer feel bad for Jewish kids who don't have Christmas trees. Like putting up a Christmas tree, building a sukkah has all the memory-building capacity and potential for family blow-ups that Christians enjoy just a couple months later! Funny enough, both involve branches and trees, and often include twinkly lights and decorations.
There is, however, one big difference: having a Christmas tree started as a pagan practice and was later incorporated into Christianity, whereas building a Sukkah is commanded by God.

It was a fun day!

That's me, on the left.


Today I played hooky from work. A couple of my friends in Mount Dora, which is a charming town near Orlando, invited me to come up. So I got a very excited Angel into the back seat and we were off for a day of friends, food, and houseboating! They are friends of my family, and are also my clients, but it was mostly just a really fun day. The great thing was that with my new laptop, I actually did get a little work done, too!

First we went to lunch at a (dog-friendly) riverside restaurant, then got our three dogs onto the houseboat, and we were off! The dogs had a ball, as always. :) Angel would have jumped right off the boat in pursuit of ducks if I had let her. It was gorgeous weather, sunny with a breeze, and we leisurely made our way to another dog-friendly riverside restaurant (gotta love Florida's new canine laws!), tied up at the dock, and saw it: the alligator.

He was about 5 feet long, so probably wasn't really that dangerous. But having 3 dogs (two of them little dogs) and a gator staring us down from literally 6 feet away from us was unnerving, to say the least. My friends said it wasn't a big deal, so I told them they might feel differently if we switched seats, since my chair was right by the edge of the dock (and thus, the alligator). They laughed, but I noticed that neither of them volunteered to switch with me...

The gator stared at us for oh, around an hour and a half, during which my friends told happy tales of fatal alligator incidents and such, and I really tried to concentrate on the conversation! This was made very difficult by the knowledge that a gator was literally poised to eat either me or one of our dogs, whichever got close enough first. Amazingly, I pulled out my computer and conducted internet home searches for one of my friends (he's an investor). They liked my new, relaxed business style; working while dining on the river with our dogs! Nice work if you can get it. :)

It was a great day, and now I'm back home with one very tired dog!

The Sukkah: Construction Phase

Well, what can I tell ya...
I've discovered something long suspected: there's a reason I didn't go into engineering.
It's slow going, building this sukkah by myself. But to tell the truth, it's probably better that I figure it out alone: I only have myself to argue with this way!!

Shopping at Home Depot and bringing the various components home was easy. Now I've been sitting and staring at the lumber and brackets for 43 minutes, trying to figure out the most secure way to assemble it. And wishing someone would tell me how to do it. There must be a sukkah "how-to" website somewhere...

I'll keep you posted!

It's Decided: I'm Building a Sukkah!

If you think I'm crazy, you're in good company.

My pets are going to think I'm completely off my rocker, but then again they're used to my odd behavior.

My mother, who is coming here this coming Monday, will once again ask me if I'd like to consider conversion.

My friends will think it's too much work for a high-maintenance person like me. Actually, I'm pretty darn handy. I can wield an electric screwdriver just fine, thank you!

It's been decided. I'm going to Home Depot today to buy the supplies.
Why build it, you ask? Several reasons. First of all, it's a Biblical commandment. Granted, it's for Jewish people, but I do have a bit of Jewish in me, so why not?? And as a Christian, I partake of that spiritual heritage as well. Also, it just sounds like fun! It's a great time of year for outdoor dining, and I just pruned my palm trees last week. So I already have the roof ready to go. Lastly, I've seen pictures of tons of sukkahs lining the streets in Israel, and I figure if I plan to live there, I should acquaint myself with the customs.

Here's the plan: (an engineering feat it's not!! I just hope it won't fall down on me!)
Use four 8' 2x4's for the vertical part.
Use two 8' 2x4's and two 4' 2x4's for the horizontal top part.
Connect the parts by screwing 3 corner brackets into each union.
Then I'll put the palm fronds on top, decorate it, and put my patio table under it. Voila!!

My only concern is how to prop the parts up in the final stages. I guess it could built upside-down and someone could help me flip it over. (John, perhaps??)

Any and all advice is welcome! This will definitely provide me with the motivation to use my digital camera!!

So much better than a cocktail party!!!

Of course, there's no comparison between a break-the-fast with awesome people to end the High Holidays and a cocktail party. An alternative title to this post was "Pride Cometh Before a Fall," and you'll see why if you keep reading.
But first, more observations about the services.

Yesterday's services were lovely. They were also long, considering my recent back problems. After taking enough Advil and Clonazepam to kill an elephant, I was so relaxed that I really didn't care about the pain. It also made me less self-conscious at the services, which worked out well. (Now I see how people get hooked on drugs! They're great!!)

The Rebbetzin, the Rabbi's wife, and I did not get off to a good start. She was cold and abrupt with me when she asked, and I told her I'm not Jewish. I was hurt and offended. She did change a bit after learning about my ancestry, but it still hurt. I don't think a rabbi's wife should be like that with visitors. (I've met other rabbi's wives who were much more hospitable.) Things have now improved dramatically. (But I won't give particulars about the congregation since I'm writing about the rebbetzin!! :))

A few observations: there was a peaceful time for introspection and prayer during the services. I didn't feel in my element enough to really have a deep prayer time around so many people, but many others did. Many people (including me) wore white or pale-colored clothes, which must symbolize either repentence or purity; I'm not sure which. The overall effect was very soothing. The music was absolutely beautiful and haunting, and I can't get some of the melodies out of my mind even now. There's one that has the words "V'Yom Som Kippur" (I think), which is particularly beautiful. I think I recognized another one as a melody also used in Fiddler on the Roof, but maybe it's just similar.

I missed one of the services, because I had to come home, make fruit salad, and pack everything up for the break-the-fast. I rushed back for the Yizkor service, and was very sad to learn that I had just missed my grandfather's name being read. But the rabbi saw me come in, and he read my grandfather's name again at the end. I broke down and started crying. When the rebbetzin saw me, she was very warm and gentle toward me. She comforted me, hugged me and brought me kleenex, for which I felt very grateful. It also went a long way toward mending our rocky start.

I grieved his passing and told him the things I wish I could have said when he was living. It's so sad that my he's not here to see how I'm trying my best to keep some Jewish traditions alive in our family, and that I've taken a bold stand for Israel, and how I plan to make aliyah, and that I'm a Century 21 Realtor (as I've mentioned, he was broker of a Century 21 in Boca.) He would love to know these things, and we would have so many good talks (and, of course, debates). We lost 20 years due to both of our stubbornness, and I mourned that lost time, too. I thank G-d for His gift of giving us a close, loving relationship in my grandfather's last year of life, and I will hold on to that.

For me, the Yizkor service was obviously the most meaningful, as it was an opportunity to honor my grandfather, Jay Simon Estern (ne Epstein), and to mourn his passing.

Okay, now on to the break-the-fast. I drove a sweet 85 year old lady named Yetta to the house where it was held, and we had a great conversation. Both she and the rebbetzin are trying to make a match for me with a nice guy who came, named John. I don't know him well, except to know that like me, he's not Jewish, but is very supportive of Jewish issues. Oh, and another prerequisite: he's tall. :) (How superficial of me, I know! I have a thing for tall men...) We shall see... Yetta also told me who to avoid: "Stay away from him!" She said about one guy. "He's no good! Divorced already, and it wasn't a match to begin with!" She's a pistol!

We arrived at the house (along with about 50 other people), and it was a mad dash around the kitchen to put out the food: arrange the chopped liver plate, assemble the fruit salad into the hollowed pineapples, and heat the knishes. I was so proud, and everyone was really impressed!!! I brought my nice dishes to display the food properly. The hostess told me that the fruit salad was so beautiful that she used it as the centerpiece, and I received tons of compliments on the knishes. And the chopped liver? The cantor (who definitely did not need the added cholesterol, if you know what I mean) absolutely loved it! The leftovers were sent home with him. He said that the chopped liver and knishes "took him back to his childhood." Yay!! (Funny note: he said the chopped liver was delicious, until I told him it wasn't made with schmaltz, then he said it was "pretty good." I never should have told him!)

The other food was outstanding (except for the gefilte fish, of which I'm not a fan). There was salmon and Nova lox, an amazing apple-cranberry noodle kugel, zucchini casserole, chicken soup, carrot soup, fantastic matzoh-ball soup, cherry crumble, and so much more-- I can't even remember it all!! It was a feast!

The people were so hospitable, too. One interesting thing was that upon arrival, a few guests seemed very low-energy and wan. I asked one lady if she was okay, and she said she was just really hungry and had a headache. I found out that most of the guests had been fasting for 24 hours, from both food and water. ( I had not realized that the fast included water.) So they were understandably famished in the beginning, but that didn't last for long. It was crowded and friendly, many of us sitting at card tables, kids enjoying themselves, everyone laughing, eating and talking at once. It felt like a very happy family. To tell the truth, it felt a lot like Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, but not as restrained. I ate way too much-- how could I resist? I ate six desserts before losing count. It was a beautiful experience and holiday, and I'm so glad I was invited!

[Note: I cannot fast, as I have hypoglycemia. Instead, I "fast" by eating a minimal amount of very bland food, just enough to keep me from having health repercussions.]

So back to the "Pride cometh before a fall" bit. Incidentally, the actual verse reads "Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall." (Proverbs 16:18-19).
As anyone reading my blog can tell, I have an unhealthy dose of pride about my cooking. After thoroughly enjoying the evening, I returned home, walked inside, and the bag holding my nice serving dishes promptly broke-- and all the dishes crashed to the floor. So in the end, G-d had the last word about my pride. I never realized that pride would come before a literal fall! I guess I still have a ways to go...

A Visitor's Observations of Yom Kippur

I got back from the Kol Nidre service tonight, and I'm sure I've already sinned several times since then. ARRGH!

The service was beautiful in a holy sort of way. This is only my second time ever observing the High Holy days (the last time was about 8 years ago). I am amazed by the incredibly thorough list of sins that were read. I think they were recited to help us remember things we need to repent of and ask G-d's forgiveness; things we've done wrong in the last year. At least, that's what it seemed like to me.

Tomorrow I'm going to services all day, and I've submitted my grandfather's name to be read and the Kaddish to be recited for him. I'm looking forward to that, as I think it will give me closure about his passing, since I wasn't able to attend his memorial service.

I was invited (as mentioned earlier) to a break-the-fast after services tomorrow. This will be a first for me, and I'm a little nervous. When I told my mom I had volunteered to bring chopped liver, she laughed at me! She said I should call them back and change my dish. She still remembers her grandmother's chopped liver with disdain.

Armed with this information (and a big dose of pride, which I just repented of a couple of hours ago), I decided to add some more likable dishes. I don't want to make food that nobody will eat. So in addition to chopped liver, I'll make fruit salad served in hollowed-out pineapples, and potato-liver knishes. [Update: the knishes just came out of the oven-- let's just hope they taste as good as they look!]

It's a solemn shabbat right now, so I shouldn't be cooking. But I didn't know how to get all the cooking done for the break-the-fast, if I didn't do it now. Any advice on how people manage to do the cooking when you're in services all day, and you're also not supposed to be cooking? It's a mystery to me.

Has Hollywood become openly observant?

Let me preface this post with a little personal update:

I did a boatload of weeding in the garden this morning, and hurt my back in the process. It's now almost 2 p.m., and I'm back in bed after taking a whole Clonazepam, 3 Advils and tucking an ice pack under myself. So if I seem a little loopy, well, it's because I am.

My goal is to feel better by this evening, as I was invited to attend Yom Kippur services (tonight and tomorrow), and a pot-luck "break-the-fast." So I have to feel better within a few hours. Missing tonight's service is not an option!

Another item: for the break-the-fast, I did the absolutely inconceivable: I volunteered to bring the chopped liver!!! What was I thinking?! I love to cook, and to get positive reactions to my culinary creations. So why in the world would I sign up to bring the one thing everyone will avoid like the plague? And I signed up for it on Friday, so I can't even blame the lapse in judgement on my current drug-induced condition!! To top it off, where will I be able to buy schmaltz (that artery-clogging friend of cardiologists, which all the authentic recipes call for)? I think I'll end up making my own. To be honest, I didn't even know until this week that there was a demand for schmaltz. I thought cooks just rendered it themselves.

Okay, enough of my tangents. The original reason for this post was that I noticed that many major TV networks appear to have suspended their programming this evening from 8 p.m. forward. Is this just a technical glitch, or has Hollywood actually taken a stand for Yom Kippur?? Any information about this --or a delivery of schmaltz-- would be welcome!
You all know that I'd never be so uninhibited if I weren't on muscle relaxants.