Up early

and, after feeding Mishka,--->off to morning minyan, with a short list of people for whose healing to pray. Pffft, it didn't occur to me to put my own name on the list.
Next time.

I do love the early morning minyan, and the camaraderie of us regulars, and coffee after---with the occasional bagel, herring or leftover kugel or chulent. (Chulent in the morning is a challenge.)

Then, a day of all sorts of errands.
And a friend undergoing chemo.
From all sides I am being reminded of Impermanence.
And am overtaken by a wave of missing Zalman, z'l, and regrets.

I wish us all a sweet and restorative shabbos.
Blessings...and a prrrr from Mishka, who is curled up on the desk beside the laptop and my arm.

One of those

wonderful days that starts off with sun and rolls out a gorgeous rainstorm at afternoon tea-time.

A friend had come over with the gift of two beautiful tomato plants; they will enjoy living on the back deck.

As we finished relocating them, the sky opened and the rain refreshed the entire garden; and us.
I love the scent after rain. And I confess that I love the back garden since it has gone completely wild.
It started some years ago with a sudden invasion of an alien grass that travels by roots, and which took over large parts of the back yard where blue gramma grass, a native prairie grass, had grown.
Now I have an unplanned and unintended wild meadow back there; and I have come to like it.
Now and then I see oval tamped-down patches that tell me deer have slept there. I am never up early enough to see them waken, stretch and leave.

I hear a meow: Mishka is informing me that it is bedtime.
Sweet dreams.

The stuff I'm not good at

When my wonderful small local bank, where my accounts have been since we first moved to Boulder, got gobbled up by a large bank that invests heavily in oil and fired our favorite people, I switched everything over to the nearby credit union: all the automatic deposits and regular bill payments, savings and checking and IRAs. The whole process has been a major pain in the tuchess, and very time-consuming.
So today I spent hours waiting for my turn at the Social Security office so they could verify my identity and do what is necesary to change deposits to the newer credit union account.
I almost wish I didn't care where my bank uses its money----and then I think of my beloved's grandkids and great-grandkids, and how I would like them to have air to breathe, and animals and birds and bees and whales still sharing the earth with us...

Blessings and sweet dreams.

Catching up

It has been a strange day, wandering between work that needed to be done, and distraction.
Instead of calling---a Sunday family practice I started with Zalman---I sent an email out to all the kids. Haven't heard back from any; guess that won't work as a way of keeping in touch, and I will go back to calling.

Errands: groceries, hardware store. Email: catching up, deleting, trying to keep perspective.
In the midst of it all, I made a cauldron of chicken soup for a community member who had an accident; the whole house smells like chicken soup.
Family of a local community membr who died earlier this year, z'l, are now dismantling her apartment; they brought me some photos she'd had of Zalman, z'l. And although this entire house is filled with him---possessions, books, papers, memories---those photos brought me to tears. Somehow they underscore his absence in-the-flesh.

I am both looking forward to the coming week, and not ready for it.
I would like another day of shabbos.
Good night.

P.S Does anyone know a superb travel agent in Boulder?


It has been an unusual shabbos.

Some members of the community feeling an urgency about trying to help free and resettle refugees currently locked up at the border proposed a fundraiser of local body-workers giving treatments today to raise money for them.
I ordinarily would not do such work on shabbos; but since it is a matter of pikuach nefesh, saving a life, I went. (Most who know me through my connection with Zalman, z'l, may not know that I spent decades doing body work and body-oriented psychotherapy professionally.)
The room was beautifully set up with tables and low light.
But almost nobody came.
I ended up working on another volunteer, and leaving early.

Afternoon and early evening I had the delight of visiting with friends from out of town.

And when shabbos was truly over, I opened email to the current barrage of bad news.
I am very grateful that we are commanded to put all that aside during shabbos, and recalibrate in relation to the Eternal.
I might even make it through another week.


Much too late

I have been clearing up piles of paper that invaded the kitchen.
They overtook the small desk beneath the bookcase, and began to overtake the island where I chop and cook. Surely they multiply at night while I sleep; there is always more in the morning. They mostly come in the mail. Do I really need so much information? There is always more appalling news than good, these days, and they always beg for money to fix it.
I seriously doubt whether throwing money at "it", whatever "it" is, ever really fixes it.

My mind is aready heading towards shabbos, when I cannot "fix" anything.
My beloved's instruction: "Put it in G-d's lap for these twenty-six hours. See what looks different when you retrieve it."
Maybe I can choose not to retrieve it...?

Good night, all. Wishing you a blessed shabbos.


Mishka is curled on the desk beside me, fast asleep. I should be so soundly asleep as well.
My eyes are closing between words.

I learned tonight that a friend---a singer, composer---is now in the midst of dying. I will ask that all his good deeds turn into angels to accompany him over that border---ecstatically, if possible.

Dear ones, I cannot write any more tonight. My heart is pulling me to the prayer room.
Good night.