High School SAT scores

Oh spring. It comes with so much promise and then becomes such a time over multitasking that it's very hard to stay on track with any projects started before Pesach.

Well, today on this Memorial day weekend I returned to my Marie Kondo work for the first really good chunk of time in a while. I'm up to the stage of getting rid of papers, and our office floor has been covered for months now with all of my files, letters, papers etc. from old school work, to bills, to drafts of my writing, letters and more.

This is just a sampling.
There is more, so much more!

It's been very slow going. While I've put in a few minutes here and there I feel like I have an emotionally easy enough time sorting through old medical things or bills, but when it comes to the more personal things I'm not sure what to do. Today I opened a bag of old letters from all different people in my life. All of them -- all of them -- felt painful in some way. I suppose at least in part it's because these letters are from my college years when I was scared about the future, unsure of where I was going, that these are hard to look at. I read a few, then couldn't take it anymore, but decided at least for now to to keep them. These are part of my history and I haven't decided yet whether I need to let this history go, or if I need the story available to be retold. Just don't know.

Then I found a file of my old SAT scores, report cards etc. I went to show some of it to U. Maybe it's partly because I was sharing it that I had the reaction that I did. I flipped through page after page of reports from teachers I had, both those I liked and those I didn't like, and classes that I was good at and classes that were hard. Sure, the ones I liked best had the drop down comment, "talented", but there were comments too about incomplete work, not following directions, poor test scores even on a take-home test and finally I just started to cry. Reading these little slips I started to feel the crushing pressure of all these adults judging me according to what they wanted from me and they were things that didn't show who I was. The only reports that felt safe were from band class and writing class. But physics, math, even Spanish and AP English, I wasn't what they wanted to be.

Since becoming a teacher I have always reflected back on myself as having been a pretty good student. I wasn't labeled with a disability. I didn't misbehave (much). Yes, I was stubborn, but usually the teachers I think of fondly thought past that. So it's taken an act of imagination to see what it might be like for children that really really struggle in school.

Now, though, I see that I was being judged and that so many people saw me not living to my potential or, maybe more accurately, not living up to theirs. In this report card writing season I'm now seeing my own relationships with students in a new light. The judgement we put on them is very very powerful.

The good news for myself is that as I've gone through my files I've found some good things too. I love my letters of recommendation, cards from people I know love me and results of some of my most recent work in adulthood. What a relief to be an adult now and too feel OK with whom I am and what I do. What a relief to not having to be figuring out who I am from scratch anymore.

So the professional question to leave this with... how can we as teachers and parents make our children and students feel appreciated the way I do from those good letters and not crushed with the judgement I felt in my report cards. 

Phone Call

I had to do parent-teacher conferences today. In the middle of a break my cell. phone rings with U's number, but it was ND on the line.

"Hi."

"Hi. How are you?"

"At Chuck E. Cheese I got a loose tooth."

Right on schedule, a bottom front tooth for a 6 year old. I kind of felt, though, that when I came home a  full-fledged adult would be waiting for me. Some of these landmarks feel huge.

Piano debut

ND's debut piano recital.

In Time For ND's birthday

I'd love to write about the actual details of her birthday when I get some time, but meanwhile, here's a link to an article of mine that was published today. The website belongs to a doula friend of mine who asked if I could contribute an article with reflections on ND's birth. I didn't mean to finish the process with her right on this date, but I guess birth is on my mind near the birthday!

The Nature Of Thanksgiving

So ND -- who turns 5 in a few weeks -- commented that since Thanksgiving is a holiday, we will probably be reading Torah that day. I said that no, not really. Well, we do read Torah on Thursdays, but not because it's Thanksgiving. It's not a Jewish holiday, I explained.

She thought about this awhile and about an hour later determined that if Thanksgiving is not a Jewish holiday, then "Non-Jews read Torah on Thanksgiving."

Farms Instead

We were supposed to spend Chol Hamoed in Waltham, MA visiting my friend and her new baby born on September 11.

Alas, I've had a nasty cold.

So yesterday we went to a local garden store and its petting zoo. Today we went to Depiero's -- petting zoo, hay maze, hayride with pumpkin picking and all.

Let's talk about why we should, not why we don't have to

Just came in from the backyard. Another dip into my annual adventure of climbing into our backyard ditch for schach for the sukkah. Just needed a little more to be a little more sure of the Kashrut of our Sukkah's hole-y roof. While working on it, I had some thoughts I need to share on why I love Sukkot/Simchat Torah and why it's one of the more challenging weeks of the year for me.

People complain sometimes that spirituality can seem distant within Judaism. The prayers feel foreign, even when read in English, the routines and rituals strange, the rules strict. But Sukkot has so much potential for fun and love.

How physical it is! Your whole body thrown into building the sukkah, getting the schach, making the decorations. I love that each of us can take on our own special role preparing for the holiday, not because of what's dictated or even custom, but because of our talents. My husband is creative at assembling things. He puts up our sukkah. I love getting down and dirty in nature. So I climb into a ditch and saw bamboo and vines to throw on top. Our daughter loves art. So we all decorate with her together. And throughout this we can talk or laugh or do it on our own time rather than following dictates of decorum the way we must (and should) in shul. Yes, there are rules, but they are general, leaving lots of room for creativity.

Then there are the religious rituals themselves that do have rules, the waving of the 4 species with so many interpretations towards their meaning. The hakafot at shul, where the community continues showing our allegiances to G-d that we re-established, crowned and surrendered to from Rosh Hashanah to the closing moments of Neilah.

Throughout the week we're meant to completely immerse ourselves, as a family, in the mitzvah, living in the Sukkah -- eating, sleeping, relaxing. Not like women's monthly immersion in mikveh, or some mens' voluntary immersion right before Shabbat or a chag that is so powerful but private. But a family endeavor to just be together with G-d peeking through the latticework above us with absolute love and joy.

By Simchat Torah there is the dancing, the communal celebration, the opportunity to get up so close to the Torah itself and begin anew -- storing up joy and optimism to hold us through the winter ahead.

So then, why do people want to spend so much time saying what we don't have to do?

Start with rain, mosquitos, cold... people become uncomfortable very quickly in the sukkah. I don't wish to criticize this too thoroughly. I appreciate that the Torah allows us to protect ourselves rather than put our bodies at risk for the sake of a mitzvah. And I totally agree with disdain towards mosquitos, one of the few of Hashem's creations for which I have hardly any tolerance.

But rain?

The slightest sprinkle leads to the biggest complaints. And again, I want to be sensitive, but without rain, there would be no life. It's no less straightforward than that. Sometimes it can be uncomfortable, but I'd like to propose that others try to feel how refreshing it is, to feel G-d sending blessing upon us. Like breastmilk from a mother, it can't be replicated in any way, and we're completely dependent on its nourishment. Think of parts of the world in which water is conserved, weighed, prayed for. Can you imagine people living in those regions describing it as "disgusting?"

And now let me provide you of a list of things that women "don't have to" do:

-eat, sleep or dwell in a sukkah

-carry a lulav and etrog for hoshanas

-participate in hakafot

-read from or receive an aliyah at the Torah

Fine, what an opportunity for women to show their commitment voluntarily rather than by obligation.

Or not... because how often are we actually barred from doing these mitzvot?

How often have you been in a sukkah that is not quite big enough or in which the schach is not all quite right, and the women take seats on the periphery since "it's not our mitvah?"

As as hoshanas, and hakafot, these are so totally easy to carry out on the women's side of the mechitzah, and how often do they not, either because the shul doesn't provide leadership to make it happen or the women don't want to appear as rocking the boat, and so stand back and either don't care or pretend not to care?

And aliyot... okay, that's tricky, but I can tell you I'm going to be both layning and receiving an aliyah at a women's Torah reading. For those who feel this is "not their thing," and prefer to connect with Torah in another way, such as learning in a class, so be it. For those who just don't care because they've been excluded for so long... what a tremendous loss.

While working on a fictional story this summer about a high school girl who had to make a choice of whether to make an activist gesture or not, at risk to her comfort in remaining silent, my teenage niece commented that "It's cool to not care." We talked about the discomfort in being passionate about doing something wonderful or just, and how sometimes it leads to feelings of isolation or loneliness.

I wish that not caring was just a phase we went through. Sometimes it's something we still need to grow out of.

This season is filled with so much opportunity to feel powerfully connected with the creator who brought life to us and to all of nature, together with so much love. My prayer is that we throw ourselves into the season whole-heartedly to care and be in it together.

Inspiration and Agony

A friend of mine recently got a job with Teva and has been ecstatic since. On Yom Kippur he told me about a transformative experience he had davening Shacharit with a leader in the woods. He wrote a lovely blog post about it.

I listened as he told me about this and found myself exclaiming internally, "Oh oh oh! You've never davened shacharit in the woods before? Oh, how sad!!!! Oh, you know now about the light inside us all that comes from G-d... you hadn't had that before either?" I am so happy for him to have discovered this and feel a simultaneous plummeting inside me as I'm realizing just how few have ever even touched this. It feels as natural as water to me. I grew up in Corvallis, OR with nature and incense and touchy-feely Jews who loved Judaism for its connection to life itself and not just to text or walled-up inside shuls. To me this is what it is.

Over the years my day-to-day view of Judaism has changed, sometimes for better and sometimes for worse, but that connection between nature and the soul and Torah are already inside me. It makes me so sad when it's obscured by materialism or simply by the devoted black hat suited culture that is passionate about G-d but disconnected from land and sometimes from their children because they don't always know how to connect their spirits together. What torture to imagine that it's not for so many people who want that connection so badly, sometimes without even knowing it.

Before this friend told me this story, we were sharing how grateful we both are to have jobs in where we know we daily engage in passions of our life that make a difference in the world. But there's a piece of me that still feels something is missing, a potential connection isn't meeting. Is this just the norm that comes of not being able to do all I want all at once -- change the lives of children while still writing and meditating and being present in my own free time and being a fun mother too. Or is it a gap I need to heal? I don't get to teach spirituality. I teach reading, writing, math and how to be a citizen from a child's perspective. The passion of teaching comes through connecting with children and families, particularly when there are barriers to overcome just as social or behavioral differences.

That's just it... I love connection. I'm connecting with them, sometimes helping them connect to each other, but are we connecting to G-d? Am I connecting all the parts of me, are we connecting all to each other, to nature, to our inner spirits? Or must the writer and meditator parts of me be reserved for different times.

In short, am I doing everything to the best of my abilities exactly as I should be? Or someday should I do it a little differently... the writer, meditating environmentalist teacher of behaviorally challenged children...

who loves to just sit and be alone sometimes in the woods.

And who already does that sometimes, returning to see the perfection in the present exactly as it is right now.

Yom Kippur 2011

Entering into the holiday with intent to slow down and be present, especially for family. ND has had fever for two nights already, and is still sick. Appropriately timed to help me practice my priorities. Balancing the spiritual-in-shul and spiritual-in-life qualities.

Inspiring

So we're sitting in shul on the first night of Rosh Hashanah. I'm the only woman there except for two little girls. ND says, "Why are there all those men over there and a leader on their side but there is no one over here?! It's not fair!"

I'm not sure whether she was just observing and whether her concern was more that there was a leader on only one side or that there were so few women, but it's inspiring. I think I'd like to attend shul a bit more this year. I still feel more connected at home, but this may make it worthwhile.

Summer Summary 2011 Addendum

At the end of July, before we headed off to Portland, ND and I had one more special trip. We spent a large chunk of a day at Philipsburg Manor. This is a really unique historic experience. The place used to be an extremely wealthy manor that produced tons of butter and flour, all the work done by slaves living nearby.

Now, it is a kind of museum in which the re-enactors are all constantly actually working the farm. They actually tend and keep the slaves' personal farm, actually run the mill and sell the flour, actually care for the animals. I spoke to the woman there who was in charge of the cows to find out her background. She said she had grown up on dairy and had a degree in history. What a great combination for her job.

We spent hours there, more than I would have expected. I'd been there before once while pregnant, but we got a lot out of it this time. Maybe coming on a weekday when it was less crowded helped. The highlights were watching the mill run, helping thresh wheat and then getting to help feed a calf and milk its mother!

We have some great pictures in this collection. Keep in mind, though, that an additional highlight for ND was having time to take pictures herself. I haven't included all of them, but some are there. She was especially proud of the deep pink close-ups of her backpack.

Summer Summary 2011 - Cancun, Haines Falls, Portland, Alaska

What a fabulous summer this has been. Unbelievable.

Things I accomplished around the house: cleaning out a few rooms (no, not as many as I thought, but more than if I had done none), finally clearing plastic flowers from flower boxes left here by previous owners, lots of time with ND etc.

Things I accomplished in writing: Had hoped to write for 40 hours, but got to about 32, not counting whatever I might squeeze in in the next few days. Sent out over a dozen pieces of writing. To date have received 2 rejections of a story and 4 poetry rejections, but accompanied with one acceptance to The Aurorean. (Fall/winter issue... maybe I'll post a link for that if it becomes available later.)

Then there are the trips.

I already wrote a plethora about Mexico. See previous posts labeled "Second Honeymoon" beginning with "We Actually Did It!"

Then there was the camping trip with emarcy with whom we've gone every year since I was pregnant with ND in 2006.

After that I had a few weeks of home to finish some things up and get ready for Portland. In Portland I visited a few friends... strange because there are fewer of them I want to see, less to talk about, etc., but I still feel so refreshed after returning to my roots.

In Portland (click on "Portland" for pics) we hit The Enchanted Forest (incidentally, I've been trying for over a decade to figure out how to write about my obsession with this place and now, as a mom, I think I finally know my hook. We also did The Oregon Zoo and Seaside. (You Jersey shore people know nothing of beach beauty. Nothing. Please forgive my arrogance on this, but it's too entirely different worlds.)

The second week of our Portland trip, ND attended Tryon Creek Day Camp.

Then... off on Alaskan cruise!!!!

Here are my parents' pics.

Here are ours.

We were together for nearly everything, except in Juneau. There my parents and ND went to a nature center at the bottom of the Mendenhall Glacier. U. and I took a helicopter ride to the top where we hiked with crampons. Probably the coolest thing I've ever done in my life.

Now we're back and I have just a few days left to scramble together doing things like unpacking and blogging about the summer. Then onto a new year with new students, new fulfillment and an occasional glance both backwards and forwards at summers.

(8/29/11) Please note I've just added an addendum with one more event at this blog post.)

Young Meditation

Right now I'm putting ND to bed. She started crying when she had a scary thought, so I laid down with her and helped her. We've read Peaceful Piggy Meditation a few times, so I used that as a reference and then talked about imagining a blue sky and letting the thoughts be like clouds or birds that come and go.

She tried it for a minute, then said she was picturing the feelings as pictures in a frame. I think she meant a digital frame, but I'm not sure. I loved her analogy and that she could take ownership of this process so I asked if I could write about it on my computer in a place that everyone could see and that I would do it right now. She said yes. So here it is.

P.S. After posting this message I looked down and saw she'd fallen asleep.

We actually did it! -- 2nd Honeymoon, arrival and day 1

We've been planning for this for over a year.

We had the nerve to leave ND with her grandparents in Texas for almost a whole week while we flew to Cancun and celebrated our 10 year anniversary. She had a fabulous time, barely asked about us and is one of the best travelers I've ever met! (Thank goodness for travel playdough, Highlights puzzle books and $7.99 TV option on the plane! -- Yes, we used it.)

Sunday

We had a LOT of airport trouble. I don't want to go into details, but we were supposed to leave around 9:30 in the morning and didn't get to go until nearly 5. Don't want to think or write about the d, but ND was fine with all of it and kept busy and happy the entire time.

When we finally arrived, Savta S. had pasta and salmon for us to eat in the car on the way to their place. We repacked our things, separating ND's stuff and anything we were leaving behind from the stuff we planned to take including LOTS of food. (Nothing much Kosher in Cancun.)

To bed early, confused about whether to go to bed in this time zone's time zone or the previous, eager for the next day.

Monday

Said goodbyes and entertained last moments of worry that I've been entertaining since we first began planning this trip, but ND was fine. A hug and a kiss and she didn't look twice as we gathered our bags and headed into the airport. So strange to just be the two of us. Hard to imagine at first, and I think we both wondered if we would either get tired of each other during these days away. After the fact I'm happy to say that we didn't.

The flight left fairly early in the day, but it was a long day of traveling anyway. About 3 hours on the plane and then at least a half an hour to go through immigration, customs etc. on the Mexico side. It was pouring rain when we arrived and we needed to depend on shuttles and people we didn't completely understand to help us get where we wanted to go.

Cancun's only export is tourism. Most tourists stay on the long strip referred to either as the "7" or the "hotel zone." (Zona hotelera on the map.) These are enormous fancy hotels with private beaches and enormous hedges to block off the road from view. We had decided long before that we didn't want to stay there. Instead we stayed at El Hotel Rey Del Caribe downtown. Look closely at the map and you'll see near the top a street called Uxmal. (A German who helped me at one point when we were lost explained it's pronounced "Ooszh-mal.") Click on the link to the hotel and you'll see some gorgeous photos. They're all pretty accurate except that they do make the pool look slightly larger than it was. Also, there is no beach next to it, despite the beach photos. Who cares though?! It was one of the sweetest hotels I've stayed in my whole life. A family business with eco-sensitivity, large rooms, and a jungle in the courtyard! I very much enjoyed the little lizards that resided in there.

As a note about the hotel, though, one morning I was davening outside in the early morning on a platform above the spa that you can see behind the pool. I was just about to begin the amidah when I looked up and discovered I was facing a totally unacceptable-to-daven-in-front-of Mayan image. I took a step away from it to the right in front of a little cavern in the wall for a light fixture and heard squeaking. After having watched them swinging through the air already looking for bugs, I knew this was a bat. I finished my prayers indoors.

After we settled into the hotel we tried to go for a walk. The truth is there wasn't much to get to in that area, but we find a little bar next door at the Best Western. We had lemonades and made friends with Umberto who was very happy to serve us there as we determined the value of our money and tried to figure out how much wasn't too much for a tip.

Tuesday

This was the most important reason we came to Cancun... to see Chichen Itza. As U. describes, part of how we chose Cancun as the spot for our vacation was by drawing a radius around either set of grandparents on the map and seeing what there we already wanted to see. He had long been fascinated with these Mayan ruins and we scheduled them for our first full day there in order to guarantee the chance to see them.

It was raining, but we didn't mind at all. It meant it wouldn't be so hot, and also added a nice sort of melancholy to the day that felt very reflective.

We were signed up for a tour and a bus came to pick us up at 7 AM. The drive to Chichen Itza is only supposed to be about 2 1/2 hours away, but this trip took us also to a cenote and to a place for lunch. The lunch place was somewhat of a waste for us because we had to bring our food anyway, and there was also 45 minutes set aside there for shopping. We finished shopping quickly, the most important of which was a hammock chair I couldn't resist but which would later become a real pain to schlep.

The cenote, though, was another story. We arrived at a little farm that had the cenote on premises. Our tour guide was very enthusiastic and for the entire ride had already been talking nonstop in English and Spanish, switching back and forth between the two so quickly that I couldn't always identify what he was saying. At the farm he pointed out all sorts of features including fossils in a stone near the entrance, different plants that produced antidotes to each others poisons and more. He talked and talked and talked and talked and finally brought us to the cenote with the words, "You have 15 minutes."

If there is any one regret U. and I have from this trip it is that that was all he gave us. We would have much preferred to have the time to change into our swimsuits that we'd been carrying during this time and to really explore down there. Instead we descended into the ground, allowed ourselves to be awed and, in my case at least, a little scared of the steep steps and the enormity of the cavern. We walked around the perimeter, carefully helping each other over the slippery parts, finally having our picture taken on the platform placed there for that purpose.

Much later we would also see 2 cenotes at Chichen Itza, the famous sacred one mentioned on the link above under "cenote" above. This cenote was used for sacrifice and archaeologists have found many bodies inside. We also saw another that I will refer to briefly later.

It was early afternoon when we at last reached Chichen Itza. We had been driving for miles through sparsely populated areas, now and then passing small buildings or shacks belonging to descendants of Mayans.

The park of Chichen Itza was itself very touristy. Every step of the way we were approached or called to by vendors with all sorts of crafts to sell. We kept hearing these frightening sounds that we gradually discovered were toys you blew into to mimic the sound of jaguars.

After we got through the initial tourist information spot and received our tickets, we came through, walking into a courtyard that led us directly to the famous main pyramid. We abandoned our tour guide, eager for time just to explore on our own and circled the pyramid, learning whatever we could by reading plaques or each sharing observations or memories of what we'd read previously.
After circling it once we explored the buildings around it too including the famous ball court and so on. The best part was searching for the observatory. The Mayans were some of the first really high quality astronomers and had made observations before anyone else about how to predict alignment of stars and planets. We had to walk quite a way to find it, however, and found ourselves going through a quieter and more secluded path in the jungle. We were not allowed to climb on most of the monuments, but there we found the old marketplace where we side-stepped up and looked around a moment and where a boy pointed us down the path towards the observatory.

Somewhere else along the path at one point, I saw a small boy and girl, probably siblings. The boy was maybe 7 or 8, the child closer to 4. The boy looked protectively towards the girl and was guiding her past a barrier that we weren't supposed to cross. I assume they were part of one of the families selling souvenirs and were on their way home. I loved the look the boy gave me, checking me over to see if I would notice he was going where I wasn't allowed to.

Along that path U. and I had a few moments all alone and found the second cenote I mentioned above. We could hear and feel the quiet aliveness of the place in a way that we couldn't with a tour.

Eventually the tour did catch up to us and the guide made a joke that implied he was offended by our departure, but we had gotten what we'd come for.

It was a long long drive back to the hotel and we didn't arrive until 9 PM. But we were satisfied to have fulfilled the first step of the journey.

Casheshesher

We've been doing some goal-setting in our house lately. And U. invited ND to join in. He asked if she'd like to set a goal for herself and earn herself a prize. In the end, we chose the goal... a series of days of eating a salad each day. This is just to help increase vegetable intake and, hopefully, help her like more options.

So far so good. She has only 4 days left, and her prize is sitting in a box in my office. The prize she asked for, a casheshesher. A picture of the one we ordered is below:

I-Interactions

I've been thinking of writing an actual article about this... consider this a brief draft.

As a parent I have discovered that a sure way to make for an incomplete, dissatisfying or downright distressing evening is through too much multitasking. Well, multitasking of the wrong sort anyway. I can cook and interact with ND, but I can't do anything school related. It's been a blessing for me as, when I come home, I devote that time to her and my household instead of work. This has been as good for me as for her.

Multitasking takes us out of the moment. It works against anything inside us that is trying to be present at all and to actual enjoy what is transpiring or what we are doing (however mundane).

I hate iphones and the like because of this. I hate being in a room of people while some small part of them is wired out of the room and away from me.

There is one small exception to this.

U. got an ipod Touch recently. It's mostly been a little less useful to us than we had hoped. Fun to have, but definitely a toy rather than a tool at this point. We've gradually developed some rules or routines about when to use and when not to, because we don't want it getting in the way of our family interactions.

So it has been a lovely surprise to find one way in which it actually brings me closer to people. My parents and half-brother live 3000 miles away. I talk to my parents once or twice a week, although often it's hard to know what to talk about. I talk to my brother far less frequently. I would prefer to be with them, sharing an activity, but that is seemingly impossible at this distance.

Now here's the thing... There is a game on our i-gadgets called Words With Friends. It's basically Scrabble that you can play long-distance. It is now a part of my weekly routine to be engaged in a game with any one of them... sometimes multiple games. And when I play a word while on the exercise bike in the morning, or right after dinner in the evening, I'm interacting, however briefly. Sometimes, too, U. and I conspire together, helping to figure out what move to make, and sometimes we let ND actually move those letters onto the "board."

It can become addictive, and I have to be careful I don't jump away from my immediate family mid-conversation when I hear that little chime go off on the iPod, telling me it's my turn. We have to keep each other in check sometimes. But I have to admit, this is one time when this little home-wrecking piece of metal is bringing me closer to someone, instead of further away.

Memory and Figuring It Out

On Sunday ND asked me why we don't get ice cream much.

I said that in the winter ice cream isn't a good food because our bodies wants opposites. When it's cold out, we want hot food, and vice versa.

Last night, though, U. treated her to an ice cream bar. (She was ecstatic.) She's sitting at the table with us, munching on it, and said, "Why the opposites?"

We were both confused. She clarified. "Why does our body like opposites?"

I'm stunned she was still processing this. I explained again, adding in Goldilocks and the 3 bears with too hot, too cold and just right and our body craving just right. She seemed satisfied. Maybe I'll ask her today what kinds of food our bodies like in summer.

Ice Skating

Took ND ice skating for the first time tonight. She helped create a metaphor that is a good reminder for me. Every time she worked really hard at moving forward, she ended up flailing around and falling down. When she relaxed and trusted me, the skates and the ice to take her, she moved rather well.

I love learning to try less hard and just let good things emerge.

First Snow of 5771, Last of 2010

At 9 o'clock yesterday morning I still didn't quite believe it. In fact, we had plans to visit relatives who were in NY city, but had to cancel because we knew a blizzard was on its way. As soon as we made that choice we knew we had to do something fun as fast as possible before we got snowed in, and rushed to go bowling. We paid a discounted price for 2 hours rather than paying by the game, but as we started the second game saw it was time to go. The snow was falling, and falling fast.

Shoveled a little yesterday, more as an excuse to get into it than anything. We knew, though, that anything we shoveled would be replaced in no time. ND commented on the "kippah" on top of one of the trees.

All night we could hear the wind.

I was proud and grateful that I put out tons of birdseed before the storm got too heavy.

Started today with shoveling off our flat-roofed terrace so it wouldn't cave in our roof. Paid a neighbor's son to shovel our walkway. Then ND and I made a snow bird that she calls a snow man. It wasn't good packing snow, so we sort of just carved it out of the piles that were already there. Then we went to dig out the cars. Much of the snow we dumped off the terrace created a mountain on our driveway beyond the cars and out of the way, but some of it blew so heavily onto our Corolla that we could barely find the hood.

Finally we went sledding. Never really done this before, but it was a friend's suggestion. We took a cardboard box because that's what we learned from Caillou, but then our friend arrived and, by then, our box was nicely broken apart. So we shared their sled for awhile, then had cookies and hot cocoa with them. I'll write in a different post about how I've sort of given up sugar, but made a special exception for this. After all, the cookies were homemade apple cookies by a master baker.

Click here if you want to see more about how much snow there was.

4

Just got back from a weekend Hazon conference. Was gone 2 nights... my first 2 whole nights away from ND. She and U. had a fabulous time. I guess we're at a point now when we can do this. I feel like she's grown so much just in time for her 4th birthday... so mature.

Tonight she asked if she could floss like me. I actually had a little disposable flosser from the dentist and it said, "Not for use by children under 4." ND twirled around in a circle and cried out, "I'm so proud that I'm 4 and I can use this to floss!"

I truly have to go to bed now, but please pressure me to write about this conference... there's a lot to say.