Persnickety About Punctuation

Last night, I sent this text to my nephew Ian on the phone he got as a gift in June, when he graduated from elementary school:

He responded with this:

I hope they teach punctuation in middle school.

Fruit and Books: High Holiday Traditions

Photo: wikipedia.com

When I blogged about the first time my dad and I went browsing in Barnes and Noble on Yom Kippur afternoon, a friend commented on the post, telling me about her father's custom of buying fruit on Rosh Hashanah and how her whole family would then enjoy it in the kitchen following services.  It's a custom she continues today with her own family.

Reading up on the Rosh Hashanah fruit tradition, I learned from myjewishlearning.com that "[o]n the second night of Rosh Hashanah, it is common to eat a "new fruit"--a fruit that participants have not tasted for a long time. This tradition has become a way literally to taste the newness of the year, by enjoying an unfamiliar food....(Interestingly, the custom developed as a technical solution to a legal difficulty surrounding the recitation of the shehehiyanu blessing on the second day of the holiday. The blessing, usually recited to commemorate a new situation, is said on the second day of Rosh Hashanah both in honor of the day and the new fruit.)"

I thought about the fruit story this afternoon when, needing a break from my desk, I went down to the "fruit guy" on the northeast corner of 40th Street and Third Avenue. Perusing the selection, I asked him about what looked like mini limes on a vine. The handwritten cardboard sign in front of them said "Ginipes," which he told me are South American lychees.  Familiar with lychees from many a local Chinese restaurant, I nodded and gave him an "ahhh" of recognition.  He then broke one off the vine and handed it to me. I bit tentatively through the leathery green skin (which I now know is not for eating!), but found the flesh underneath too slimy for my taste.

Even though I ended up with more traditional fruits--bananas, grapes and plums--and even though it's been more than a week since the second day of Rosh Hashanah, I offer this shehecheyanu in honor of the ginipe, which was a new fruit to me this afternoon:

Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haolam,
shehechehyanu, v'kiy'manu, v'higianu laz'man hazeh.

We praise You, Eternal God, Sovereign of the universe, for giving us life, for sustaining us, and for enabling us to reach this time of joy.

(In case you're wondering, yes, my dad and I did go to Barnes and Noble again this year, and in a break with tradition, his friend Bobbi joined us.  Too unfocused to do any serious browsing, the three of us wandered through the store, looked at books without really seeing them, chatted, and just spent some holiday time together.  After about an hour, we returned to the temple for the rest of the afternoon.)

Gotta Love That #jewishgeography

This past Friday afternoon, I took the train from New York to Metuchen to be with my father for Kol Nidre and Yom Kippur at my home congregation, Temple Emanu-El in Edison, where he retains a membership that goes back more than 40 years.  Although I arrived at about lunchtime, our first stop was the cemetery, where my mother is buried near her own parents:

A check-in at Beth Israel Cemetery 

Cemetery in Woodbridge, NJ

Having lovingly placed our stones and a few flowers on the graves, we were drained.  Our next stop was a quick bite to eat, close to home:

A check-in at Somerset Diner

Diner in Somerset, NJ

Following this check-in, I proceeded to have a conversation with @JewishSpecialEd, an online friend who was helpful to me a few years ago when I wrote this article, and more recently has written for the URJ's blog.  

Our conversation started when she tweeted this at me: 

@JanetheWriter You are around the corner from me! Where will you be for services, if going? #GmarHatimaTova

I tweeted this back at her:

@JewishSpecialEd Grew up in Somerset. 12 Webster Rd. off JFK Blvd. Temple Emanuel-El, Edison--home cong.

Because it was just a few hours before Kol Nidre, we resumed our conversation last night and it continued today:

@JanetheWriter Small world. I grew up in Scotch Plains. Temple Shalom in Plainfield my home cong. Hope your holiday was meaningful.

@JewishSpecialEd Smaller world...I was with Jody, Daniel and Rachel L******** at break-the-fast tonight -- at Jody's parents' house!

@JanetheWriter Holy moly! Was Matt home?? Loving #jewishgeography

@JewishSpecialEd No...with a WRJ family in P'burgh. I also am loving #jewishgeography!

@JanetheWriter So now we can plan to meet “in real life” at #Biennial13, right?

@JewishSpecialEd Absolutely! It's the only way to close the #jewishgeography loop. Look forward to it!

By far the best addition to the conversation, though, came from @RebeccaSchorr, a mutual friend whom I knew online for a long time before we met in real life.  She chimed in a few minutes ago with this:

@JanetheWriter @JewishSpecialEd loving this convo #jewishgeography

Yup...gotta love that #jewishgeography!

War is Not Healthy...: A #DaysofAwe Post

Although I spent most of my growing up years in New Jersey, my family did live in Silver Spring, MD, just outside Washington, DC, from 1968 to 1972.  It was a crazy time in a crazy place, and even though I told my mother I wanted to be a hippie for Halloween one year, I really didn't know what hippies were, and I knew even less about the war they were protesting.

In my memory, though, this image was everywhere during that era:

How sad that the world seems not to have learned much during the last four decades...or, in fact, during the many millennia that came before.

Inspired by Stacey Z. Robinson, this post is one in a series marking the Days of Awe, the 10 days of reflection, repentance and renewal between Rosh HaShana and Yom, Kippur.  Because Stacey graciously provided a list of writing prompts for this period, I'm going to play along...perhaps not as diligently as I did during Elul, but as time and inclination allow.

Making Time for the Whole Enchilada: A #DaysofAwe Post

Photo courtesy of www.rapgenius.com

According to thefreedictionary.com, the whole enchilada is the whole thing, everything.  In an ideal world, my whole enchilada would include more quality time and less hurry-up-and-get-this-done.  In such a world, I'd have ample time and inclination for these things, which currently take a backseat in my real, overcrowded life: 

1. Finish a long-ago-begun classic novel -- and then move on to other unread books in my personal library.  (I just purchased the electronic edition of Les Miserables for the Kindle reader on my iPad, eliminating the need to schlep the 1200+ page book around with me.)
2. Watch Ian play baseball, cheering for him and his teammates.
3. Participate in a Mitzvah Inc. project from time to time.
4. Visit with Daddy in New Jersey more often.
5. Blog more regularly.
6. Write just-because notes to friends -- and send them on their way not with the click of an "enter" or "send" key, but with a postage stamp and a long, dark descent down a mail slot. 
7. Peruse cookbooks and actually shop for and prepare some of the these-look-good recipes.  
8. Learn to chant another Torah portion -- using the regular Shabbat trope.  Although I know I muttered many times over the last few weeks that I'd never do it again, in hindsight, rising to the seemingly insurmountable challenge proved to be intensely satisfying.
9. Write in a journal the old fashioned way -- not on a computer screen -- in a coffee shop.
10. Relax, make eye contact, smile, and be open to new opportunities and experiences. Who knows where they'll come from, or where they'll lead...

Inspired by Stacey Z. Robinson, this post is one in a series marking the Days of Awe, the 10 days of reflection, repentance and renewal between Rosh HaShana and Yom, Kippur.  Because Stacey graciously provided a list of writing prompts for this period, I'm going to play along...perhaps not as diligently as I did during Elul, but as time and inclination allow.

Thanks, Golda!

Dear Golda,

Thank you!  Your words of inspiration from nearly three weeks ago did help me to trust myself and made me more of the kind of self that I'll be happy to live with for the rest of my life.  Most of all, you helped me to fan tiny, inner sparks of possibility into flames of achievement. 

No, those flames aren't yet strong enough to roast marshmallows, and no, I'm not going to cantorial school anytime soon, but I did chant the goings on from the fifth day of creation during today's Rosh HaShanah service.

You don't get all the credit here, though. 

It truly took a village to get me onto that bema and I owe a debt of gratitude, too, to Jesse Berger for inviting me to chant in the first place, to Cantor Maria Dubinsky for making the recording that I think I listened to 3,765 gazillion times, to Rabbi Victor Appell for listening to me read the Hebrew, to Cantor Caitlin Bromberg for talking me off the ledge and then for color coding my copy of the text to illustrate which melodies repeat themselves in the verses.  

Thanks, too, are due to my father, who sat next to me in the pew and to my mother, who was there, too.  Her tallit and love both, I know, were wrapped around me this morning.  Although I don't wear the former too often, today was the perfect day to do so, and the latter, without a doubt, is with me each and every day.

I'm not especially superstitious, but if this morning was a sign about the year to come, I think good things are in store.  Or, as some of my friends are fond of saying at this season, "shofar, so good."

Thanks again, Golda.  I appreciate your support...and that of the rest of my village!

Shana tova,

~ JanetheWriter.

Returning to Prayer: A #BlogElul Post

Graphic courtesy of www.wellhappypeaceful.com

Last year, the #BlogElul writing prompt for the first day of Elul was "return."  This year, it's the final prompt, serving as a framework for the last #BlogElul post of 5773 -- and bringing this year's month of daily writing full circle, returning it to its starting point. 
 
I have no idea why I know this, except that my mind, my heart, and my prayers return every single day to my friends who were the subject of that post on 1 Elul 5772.

Today, as we stand on the brink of yet another new year, holding fast to the hope that it will be a good, sweet, and healthy one for us all, I return to these words from last year's post, and, once again, offer them in prayer:

Please take good care of all of them, especially Superman Sam, so he can return to his normal life with his sibs and his ‘rents in Chicago and stay there…except for treks across the border to camp or to visit his Bubbe and Zayde.

Ken yehi ratzon.

 L'shanah tovah u'metukah!

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year. 

The Ziggy Sheets: A #BlogElul Post

When my sister and I were kids, we loved Ziggy, the fat, bald comic strip guy waving to you over there on the left. 

I'm especially indebted to him for teaching me the joy of giving.

The story goes something like this...

I don't know where my sister was at the time, but one summer day when I was about 10 or 11, my mom and I were out shopping.  I wasn't looking for a birthday gift for my sister's August birthday, and I didn't have a specific gift in mind. 

And then I saw the Ziggy sheets.  Adorned with a geometric pattern of wide stripes together with Ziggy and his dog, Fuzz, the set included a fitted sheet, a flat sheet and two pillow cases, all perfectly sized for her twin bed with the canopy.

They were the perfect gift, and I could hardly contain my excitement at having found them.  On the morning of her birthday, I nearly jumped out of my skin before she finally unwrapped the package--leaving us to squeal with little-girl delight at the wonderful find. 

Over the years, she often let me borrow the beloved sheets and even now, four decades later, they still are the (threadbare) linens of choice when one or the other of us spends the night at 12 Webster Road.

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

Der Mentsh Trakht un Got Lakht: A #BlogElul Post

Back in January, I started reading an unabridged edition of Les Miserables.  Under the best of circumstances, I figured it would take me about a year to read the whole book. As of today, eight months later, I’ve finished 285 of the book’s 1200+ pages. 

There’s no doubt that some of the time I might have devoted to Hugo’s tome I frittered away liking Facebook statuses, playing Words with Friends, and vegging out in front of the television with Alex Trebek, Mariska Hargitay, and Christopher Meloni as my sole companions.  And there also was the time I spent paying bills, shopping for food, cooking, washing dishes, changing linens and the like. 

It’s also true, though, that I spent other chunks of potential reading time attending Worship, Communications and Adult Ed committee meetings, being encouraged and encouraging others at Weight Watchers, and organizing and facilitating FORCE meetings for some of my local BRCA sisters.  I also talked to God at minyan, and on the phone nearly daily (sometimes more often) to my father, my sister, my Aunt Claire, and (not as often as I'd like) to friends in such places as Saratoga Springs, NY, Ventura, CA, and Hatboro, PA, among others.  Learning to chant Torah, blogging, and writing (and texting) condolence, mazel tov and refuah sh’leimah notes to friends around the country also pulled me from Jean Valjean and the rest of the book's characters.

Although I don’t have a lot of read pages to show for the eight months since I started on page 1, I do have a welcoming synagogue community, a supportive BRCA sisterhood, loving family and friends, and a rich, full life that, despite my best intentions, doesn’t leave me as much time as I think I would like for reading.

Is it any wonder that Got lakht?!

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima, this post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.

The Power of Hope: A #BlogElul Post

This is the mirror on the back of my bedroom door:

And this is what's printed on one of the many treasured notes and keepsakes that lives on the mirror:

Hope

"Of all the forces that make for a 

better world, none is so powerful as hope.

With hope, one can think, one can work,

one can dream.  If you have hope, 

you have everything." 

Inspired by Ima on (and off) the Bima,this post is one in a series marking the days of the Hebrew month of Elul, which precedes the Jewish High Holidays and traditionally serves as a time of reflection and spiritual preparation for the new year.