Is the Chanukah Turkey Coming?

When I was a wee one I used to talk about Chanukah Claus which scandalized all the nice Jewish ladies in the neighborhood but Nana thought it was funny and that's all that mattered to me.

Nana would have loved cooking all sorts of Russian delights along with a turkey.

I am thankful for Hope and Athena.

Hope loves 'Sophia The First' and enjoys dressing like her. The Christmas Elf made her appearance that morning.

When Hope was an infant my favorite thing was her crooked smile. With Athena it is her endless look of surprise. Sometimes her mouth forms a perfect O and sometimes her eyes get really big. Sometimes, if you're lucky, you get both.

We call this photo 'Jeffrey in a Tutu' - she looks so much like her Dad.

Happy Chanukah my friends. Happy Thanksgiving too. 

You all hold a special place in my heart.

I posted my favorite colors of Fall over at The Photo Blog The rain and wind have pretty much cleared the trees now.

Nana and Passover

I always feel my grandmother around me a bit more at Passover. She loved the holiday.

As I started up my snow covered car today I was immediately transported back. 

To the small kitchen in the 2nd story walk-up; right above The Loyal Order of the Moose on the avenue. I was standing at the casement window futzing with the little pots of herbs.

"It's going to be snowing for Passover Nana"
She chuckles. "Snow should be the only thing Jews worry about. It's weather, you walk through weather and don't question it. It's spring, it will melt quickly."

Oh how I loved her laugh, especially the little chuckles. Seemed just about anything I said delighted and amused her. 

The car seemed to take on the color of that kitchen. My uncles had surprised Nana one Mother's Day by wallpapering the room.

"Oh my. This looks lovely. You're wonderful boys, thank you. Sit. Eat."

Later that night

"Nana do you really like the wallpaper?"
"Promise not to tell. They wanted to do something good. I love that."
I promised
"It's terrible. It's like the Chinese restaurant. Every morning I'm going to want an egg roll."

The scent of Jean Nate has been with me all day.

 

Have a good Passover everybody.
Even if you're not Jewish or religious or observant.
Nana would feed ya.

Walk through the weather.

Take the moment to recall someone who loved you.

Here Comes Chanukah

The Festival of Lights begins tonight.

I think of my Nana a lot during Chanukah, she loved the food and the music and she loved having people around her. Most of the people who celebrated Chanukah with her were not Jewish; Nana loved sharing traditions with everyone.

My Nana

My favorite part was lighting the menorah together. She would hold my hand and she'd whisper the 3 blessings to me and I would say them out loud.

This past Sunday I saw the Yeshiva Boys Choir perform on TV. I immediately fell in love with them; Nana would have adored them.

You can check them out at their place

My favorite video of them is here

I wish you all light and music - on this night and always.

The Long And Winding High Road

Danger! Danger! I’m in a reflective mood.

I have been thinking of family. And Pat Benatar comes to mind.

Love Is A Battlefield

Hope will be 1 on Saturday and the party of all parties is in the works. It will be in the backyard of our shared mother/daughter style house.

May I suggest – if one of your children ever says ‘we could share a house’ do as Nancy Regan suggested all those years ago – Just say NO

There isn’t a director on Broadway who could stage more drama than putting my family together. Add my DIL’s family.

If I start drinking now could I be in a coma by Saturday?

But wait …

Then I’d miss the smile that lights up the sun. The twinkling eyes that take in everything. The thoughtful gaze. The sweet chubby hand that gently touches my face. Or reaches for mine so we can walk around the yard looking for bugs and dogs.

Yes – Hope points to bugs and says ‘Dog’ and I say ‘Bug’ and she insists ‘Dog’.
And we laugh.

I am a left leaning Democrat in a family full of Republicans.
I am a tree hugger in a family full of SUV driving, concrete loving people who recycle only if they think they’ll get a ticket.
I am a spiritualist in a group that sends their kids to church with a donation envelope so the priest will think they were all there.
I am the one who married ‘that black guy’ in a family that ‘sticks to their own’

I am the oldest of 4 who were abused into adulthood. One killed herself. One doesn’t speak to the others. One drinks too much and buries himself in possessions.

And one keeps trying to fix it.

I am Mom to a kind soul who would rather boil his own head than talk about feelings, or the past, or his father, or his aunt, or …

My DIL despises me. Contempt is a word she has used. Utter contempt actually.
Wasn’t always that way. For years it was a friendship, a good friendship. I was once described as ‘the best future MIL anyone could hope for’.

That was when I earned 6 figures. When I bit my tongue about the way my son was treated. Waiting for her to handle it on her own. Not holding her responsible for her family. Just paying my own way – and most of everyone else’s.

I’m pretty sure I intimidate my DIL, or at least I did. Before I got sick. Before the money dried up. Nothing tests a relationship like illness and financial worries.

Friends tell me I never saw, or chose to see, that what is now so apparent was always there. They can’t believe that I was as mild mannered as I was. The human rights activist who let it go when her son was referred to as “the nigger my daughter is with”. The proud granddaughter who walked away when people laughed and celebrated a good car deal by describing it as “nothing better than Jewing down a Jew”.

I thought I was embracing peace over conflict. I told myself I was choosing my battles.

And so I embarked on the long and winding high road.

I grew up in endless conflict; shouting, cruel words, violence, hatred.

I want Hope to be surrounded by peace and love. I don’t want her in the middle of anything but a hug. She can so easily be used as a weapon by people who think so much of themselves and so little of others.

I remember something my Nana used to say – “what a shame to get old and still be so stupid”.

Nana always counseled me on the art of battle choosing. She had a keen talent for seeing who could be reached and perhaps changed and who should just be ignored.

Nana paved the high road.

I guess I’ll keep on keeping on.

"We should be too big to take offense and too noble to give it." ~ Abraham Lincoln

Hope Talks Bad Moods

So Nana has been in a bad mood. Not that she ever lets me know - as soon as she sees me she does one of her silly voices and she smiles and laughs and sings for me.

But I am an exceptional person with strong intuitive skills - at least that's what Nana tells me and she's never wrong.

The new sump pump was a good thing. Big messy men came Saturday night and made noise in the basement and voila!, new pump was in. New pump did something not so good and water backed up. Old pump had to go back in and Nana had to turn it on and off every two hours to keep bad water from making everything stinky and wet.

This made Nana feel like plotzing ...



Then her back hurt and the man who makes the papers for the tax man called and then the big messy men came back with pipes and valves and asked for dollars and ... and ...

well Nana was trying hard to not kill someone. She looked a lot like this ...



This is my I have fallen and I can't get up look.

And I broke Nana's camera strap. I do not know my own strength. She laughed and told me it was OK. She's good like that even in a bad mood.

So my advice to Nana and to anyone who is having plumbing and taxes and back aches and big messy men asking for dollars is ...

Stick your tongue out ...



And laugh and clap your hands ...



As Nana's Nana used to say - this too shall pass. Oy!

Hope Talks About The Rain

Hi everyone! Hope here. Nana said it was good to share so I'm here to share my thoughts about all the rain that has been falling on our house.

Last night I was watching Moose A Moose with Nana ...



It was so cozy.

This morning I woke up and had a wonderful breakfast. I love yogurt.

After breakfast and play mat time I had a nice nap.

And then the day got complicated ...



I heard Nana and Mommy in the carport. They were talking about water and rain and floods and basements. I know they heard me calling. It took forever for someone to come.



Finally! Nana came to get me. She was soaking wet.

We went to the side door and there was my Mommy ...



We are calling this photo 'Mommy Saves The Basement'.

She set up the big pump and the long blue hose and she made the water run away.

I was thinking about how last week I was in the yard ...



and there was sun, with no water.

And I went to the park ...



and there was sun, with no water.

Mommy says Daddy is coming home from work early because the pump is very heavy and we need to run more blue hose and Mommy isn't that big and Nana's cane went all the way down in the mud and she almost fell down.

It's a lot to deal with ...



I know I look worried but I'm really just wondering when I can go to the park again.

I know that Mommy and Nana are saving the basement.

Because Girls Rock!

Nana Tells A Story

My friend KITTY mentioned that she’d like to hear some of the stories I make up for Hope. This got me thinking that I should try to keep a record of my ramblings. I wish my Nana had, she told the greatest stories and now I search my memory for them.

Hope wore the green for St. Patrick’s Day. When she got home from day care she visited our neighbors and tasted a bit of cabbage and then she came home to hang with Nana.

We spend a lot of our time in the kitchen. She can sit by the window while we chat.

Hope’s ethnic heritage is diverse. She’s Irish, French, Russian, African, Native American, Greek. Roman Catholic, Jewish, Baptist, Greek Orthodox.

Being the child of the universe that I am I often tell Hope stories that blend these cultures.

After asking her how she liked cabbage – I’m guessing from her face that the answer is “not so much” – we talked about the little shamrock pin and the little Star of David pin.

It seems that the shamrock was boasting about how she got to go out and go to parades and parties while the Star of David pin remained in Nana’s jewelry box. The star pin reminded the shamrock that it wasn’t kind to tease people and told the shamrock that Passover was coming and she too would be celebrating. This made the shamrock stop and think.

”What do you do on Passover?” the shamrock asked.

The Star of David talked a bit about the Seder.

It was at this point that the Easter Bunny and the gold cross asked when Easter was. The shamrock was excited because she knew it was April 4th and she also knew that both Catholic Easter and Greek Easter were on the same day.

”We don’t get to eat twice?” the gold cross asked.

”Oy!” the Greek Cross exclaimed. “We can get together and eat any time. You kids are so silly at times.”

Then all the little pins got together and made a pact to celebrate with each other all the time.

The End

The end is always punctuated with a “ta-da” from Nana and much applause from Hope. I love that she enjoys clapping and she’s very generous with her praise.

She watches my face while I speak and sometimes reaches up to touch it or she pats my hand while I hold hers.

One of my most vivid memories of my Nana is her telling me how “wide open and wonderful” the world was. How people were “so much the same, they love their children schmutz face and they want to be happy.”

And on we go …




Hope's ONESIE and her SOCKS came from shops on Etsy. They are beautifully made and both sellers were helpful about sizing. The prices were affordable and they were packaged nicely and shipped quickly. Check out the links - they have lovely items.

This is not a paid for post. Neither seller even knew I would be mentioning them. I simply like to support small businesses and crafts people.

Festival of Lights

Chanukah begins tonight

I wish you all light and warmth and joy ...



I wish you all enough of all you need and the grace to share ...







It is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness

As always ...

there is history and memories ...



and there is Hope ...

A Guest Post by Hope

Hi everyone! I decided it was time to test the blogging waters. I am 5 months old ya know, it takes time to build a following.

While the grownies around me blather on I take the time for some deep thinking ...



I think it's important to consider things, ponder the great questions ...



Nana talks about getting old. I know exactly what she means. Just the other day I sat too long in my high chair ...



Oy! My tush was killing me.

Plus breakfast started backing up. It's fruit and fiber. What do they think is going to happen ...



I'm telling you, times like this can make a girl anxious ...



Sometimes I just wanna spit ...



Nana says to always find my inner bliss, the child within me ...



She's so cute when she gets all philosophical.

I'm going to share a little something with you ...



See this cutie ...



It's Nana.

This was taken in 1955. That's not even the same century!

Today is Nana's birthday.

She's just gonna chill ...

I Know This Look

I appear to be the Queen of the Relapse – just when I thought my head was clear it filled up with toxic waste again. I’m foggy with a chance of bad moods and fits of exhaustion.

Oy!!

The night that Hope was born I saw this expression cross over her face for a moment and a wave of memory feelings came over me. I couldn’t articulate the memories at that moment.

On and off for the past 3 months I kept catching glimpses of this same expression. Actually I felt more than saw the expression.

I have had many moments where Hope reminds me of Jeffrey (her Dad/my son) – she has his lips and nose and she has a joyous, mischievous smile much like his was as a child.

But this expression I occasionally experienced was different. I just could not wrap my mind around it.

Then the other day Hope was playing in her ‘bouncy seat’ and she became annoyed and frustrated by not being able to reach one of the toys that hang from it. I encouraged her to reach and I made ‘Mr. Frog’ spin to capture her attention and I was met with THE EXPRESSION …



I said “Oy, why the stricken look” before I even thought the words and it all came back to me.

This is my expression ...



I remembered my Aunt Pat saying “Oy, why the stricken look” and her calling over to my Mom – “Annie, this child looks like she’s suffering”

I remembered my Mom laughing and saying I always made that face when “things don’t cooperate with her”

The memories just flooded back after that ...

One of my uncles used to say the look broke his heart
Nana used to laugh and tell people to let me be, I was intent on “solving her own puzzle”
I had a teacher who told me the look made her feel like she was torturing me

And there are so many more

I think I still do this look today but of course it’s nearly impossible to evaluate your own expressions.

I guess I’ll have to wait until Hope is old enough to tell me if she recognizes the look.

Here are a few shots of Hope in her ‘bouncy seat’ when she’s not “stricken”

Nana and the New Year

The celebration of Rosh Hashanah, commonly referred to as the Jewish New Year, begins tonight at sundown.

I cherish my memories of Nana and the New Year.

Me: It’s not the new year, the new year is in January.
Nana: It is the new year of the Hebrew calendar and I think you know that.
Me: Shouldn’t there be just one calendar, seems confusing to have two.
Nana: Oh there are more than two. Didn’t you go to Chinatown for Chinese New Year?
Me: I thought that was just a festival with fireworks and costumes.
Nana: Really? That’s what you thought? So the book you read and the report you did for “extra bonus” (she meant extra credit), what was that about?

I’m sure my face was all mushed up at this point and my evil little eyes were gleaming. I loved teasing Nana, she enjoyed it so.

Me: Will you read to me in Russian and Hebrew?
Nana: No, you have no respect.
Me: feigning hurt – But …
Nana: Of course I’ll read to you as long as you try to pronounce the words the right way. We have a deal. You fix my English, I teach Russian and Hebrew and all the Yiddish sayings you love so much.
Me: Fine – still being a pain
Nana: I teach 3 languages, you teach 1. Doesn’t seem fair.
Me: I’ll go get the challah bread.

Challah bread is one of the gifts of the universe. Round, with a golden colored crust and light layers of goodness inside.

Nana: We’ll go together. And we’ll stop at the park to feed the squirrels and birds. I have some old bread ready for them. And some plain nuts.
Me: Is it Jewish Rye?
Nana: Yes, it is Jewish Rye for the birds for the New Year – she is laughing.
Me: And why are we throwing away the plain nuts?
Nana: Because I hate them, they are like eating rocks.
Me: But you can’t eat the salty ones, the doctor …
Nana: You’re not the boss of me – laughing even more

My father did not allow me to go to synagogue with Nana and she would not allow me to defy him or lie to my Mother. So I would walk her there and wait in the park in the back. The sound of the shofar always made me cry a bit – it still does.



I wish my aunts and uncles had exhibited more respect for Nana’s beliefs and traditions. My grandfather, a Christian, has insisted his children be raised in the Roman Catholic church. He was of the opinion that this would “make them more American”. Nana agreed. I think my grandfather was a source of huge hurt and disappointment to Nana. She had been so young when she married him and then they had fled Russia and then they struggled to just survive in America. I know she loved him and she would not want me to be disrespectful. Even now. I can hear her – “I don’t care how old you are! Some things are do what I say. Period.”

Years and years later one of my uncles embraced Judaism when he married.

I was always uncomfortable with organized religion but I was always fascinated by the history and the traditions. To this day I have a hodge podge of traditions that comfort me and that I believe honor Nana.



We would have New Year’s dinner together. Apples and honey cooked and baked into and onto a million different things. Rich thick cider and sparkling water.

Me: All these fruits and vegetables, I want a hamburger.
Nana: I made you a hamburger.
Me: No way!
Nana: I did, I did.
She would have some little dish covered with her “fancy holiday cloth napkins” and she would offer it across the table.
Me: This is really going to be a hamburger?
Nana: as I removed the napkin – Yes it is schmutz face, made from the tongue of a yak.

Nana’s giggle was music. Tonight at sundown I will close my eyes and hear it, and her Yiddish jokes, and her singing in Russian. I will hear the shofar. I will remember how the cloth napkins always smelled like spices.

I will remember, as I always do, that she was one of the most extraordinary people to have ever lived.

Shana Tova my friends. Be happy, be kind. Accept. Live and Learn.

And, as always, there is Hope …