His jeans were full of holes. Yesterday, I even found him jeans that fit him ( the only two pairs in H+M in his size). After my son tried on the new pants he complained about how stiff they were. I guess new jeans are not part of his sensory memory bank. This morning I darned the holes in his old jeans.
One of our pillowcases got a giant rip while in the wash. I serged up the seam and then noticed that the edge was beginning to fray. I sewed a ribbon to the edge and then folded over the ratty edge and did a zig zag stitch over the fold. I realized as I was working that most standard pillowcase embellishment was probably a solution to a similar issue of wear.
וְנֶאֱמָן אַתָּה לְהַחֲיוֹת מֵתִים: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְהֹוָה מְחַיֵּה הַמֵּתִים You are faithful to restore the dead to life. Blessed are You, Adonoy, Resurrector of the dead. That particular line is recited at every single prayer service every day three times a day, unless you use a Reform or Reconstructionist prayer book . In those liturgies instead of praising God for resurrecting the dead God is praised for giving life to all. I am enough of a modern woman, a modern thinker, to not actually believe in the actual resurrection of the dead. I don't actually expect all of the residents of the Workmen's Circle section of Mount Hebron cemetery in Queens to get up and get back to work at their sewing machines. I don't expect the young children buried here or the babies buried here to one day get up and frolic. Yet, every single time I get up to lead services I say those words about the reanimating of the dead with every fiber of my being. Yesterday, I e...
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