OUTSIDE!!!!!

Late last week, Mayor de Blasio announced that some streets would be closed to traffic to allow pedestrians to walk and more easily maintain social distance.

The last time I had been outside for more than a moment was April 6. A couple of Sundays ago I tried to take a walk but so many people were unmasked that I only made it three blocks before turning around and heading back home.

Sunday I decided to venture out.

It was a delightfully sunny day but after so many weeks inside, the world felt completely over-saturated in color.

The elementary school my kids graduated from welcomed me to my walk.

I had space to walk and enjoy being outside without worrying about getting dangerously close to others.

I loved feeling the sun on my skin.

Friends had set up socially distant get-togethers.

I loved seeing the kids drawing with chalk in the middle of the avenue.

I loved how the shadows cast by the tree branches echos the leading in the pale blue window-lights.

Someone had set up a bubble machine in their apartment window.

The bubbles wafted north with me.

It felt so good to be outdoors.

Sunday was a day with many lovely parts to it.

In the morning our older son moved out. His planned move had been delayed by Passover and by the pandemic.

His friend picked him up in the morning with his SUV.

I got my last in person hug in.

The sky at last night's 7:00 clap was memorable.

My younger son and I have been blowing shofar most nights during the 7:00 pm cheer. I think we may both be really good by the time we get to Rosh Hashanah.

Comments

מְחַיֵּה הַמֵּתִים

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...

Connecting with the past

A few months ago I had a craving for my father’s chicken fricassee. If my father were still alive I would have called him up and he would have talked me through the process of making it. My father is no longer alive so I turned to my cookbooks and the recipes I found for chicken fricassee were nothing at all like the stew of chicken necks, gizzards and wings in a watery sweet and sour tomato sauce that I enjoyed as a kid. I assumed that the dish was an invention of my father’s. I then attempted to replicate the dish from my memory of it and failed. A couple of weeks ago I saw an article on the internet, and I can’t remember where, that talked about Jewish fricassee and it sounded an awful lot like the dish I was hankering after. This afternoon I went to the butcher and picked up all of the chicken elements of the dish, a couple of packages each of wings, necks and gizzards. My father never cooked directly from a cook book. He used to re...

Food friday - your grandmother's food processor

My grandmother bought my mother this wooden bowl and a chopping knife, known in Yiddish as a hock-messer, soon after my parents got married. Yes, she also got them a dairy set as well. these wooden bowls and chopping knives were a big part of food prep when I was growing up. meatloaf and meat balls were mixed in this bowl. Chopped liver was made in this bowl as well. Sundays we often made chicken salad for lunch made out of chicken left over from Shabbat chopped with vegetables and mayo. That too, was made in this bowl. When I was in college my parents got their first food processor and the chopping bowls were not used as much. Several years ago, my father asked if i would like the bowls and the hock-messers. I was happy to have them. I like the sheer physicality of chopping up a big bowl of stuff into teeny pieces. While the wooden bowls have stood up well to the years of use, the hock-messers had not. The bladed which were bolted into their handles, wobbled. The blades wouldn't ...

sarah in nyc

Search This Blog

OUTSIDE!!!!!

Labels

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

מְחַיֵּה הַמֵּתִים

Connecting with the past

Food friday - your grandmother's food processor