Fifth night

So much light last night:  first the two electric menorahs, one on each side of the door, shining through the windows:  equal, for the only night of the holiday as one menorah counts up the days, Hillel's way, and one counts from eight down, Shammai's way.  Then the one with live flame on the kitchen island; my choice is Hillel's way, as I was taught.

I do not tire of feeling grateful for shabbos:  I am quiet, the phone rarely rings, the computer is turned off, the table is set with a special tablecloth and flowers, the candles lit in their place. I read the sedra uninterrupted, go for a walk at the pace my body wishes at the moment, not striving.  I breathe.  Sometimes I take a shabbos nap.  
It is not the same alone.

Tonight I went to a Chanukah party; a kind friend picked me up to go together.  A potluck and gift exchange, and many people I know by sight if not by name.
I enjoyed the party; and I enjoy retuning to a quiet house, punctuated by a welcoming meow.
Good night; good week.