sarah in nyc

 Sometimes I don't even quite realize what a project is REALLY about until I am in the tick of working on it. Take, for example, Arianna's tallit. Arianna was entirely clear about which ribbons from my stash I should use as the stripes on her tallit. As I began to work I thought that this was the major focus of the tallit. But as I worked I kept looking that the remnants of her grandfather's tallit. Arianna was 100% clear that I should use her grandfather's atara and his pinot on her tallit. There is also one strand of tzitzit that I had dyed blue ---each of her brothers had her father each have one of those strands incorporated into their tzitzit. This tallit is all about Arianna being part of her family. I needed to make the atara integrate completely with Arianna's ribbon choices. I purchased a narrow royal blue ribbon so there is a better conversation between Arianna's choices and her grandfather's atara. This is coming together nicely. I am however not ...

 I had attempted to write this post yesterday but I deleted that attempt because my writing was, as they say on "The Great British Bakeoff" claggy and undigestable. So, I try again. Growing up as a rabbi's child there were times, especially when we were about to go away on vacation that my mother would worry and fret. My mother would be worried about the congregants who were as my mother called it, "In the pipeline." or in standard English about to die. My mother would pack our luggage all while muttering hoping that Mrs.____ or Mr. Y_____ would have the strength left in their bodies to allow us a few days away.  Often we would arrive at our destination only to have to turn around so my father could conduct a funeral.  Children of accountants live in fear of the weeks before April 15. That was just part of our lives. During the past few weeks, we have had three people in our lives "in the pipeline". The daughter of a  friend was found unconscious in he...

 Right now I am working on several projects at once. While visually they are not at all similar each one is about connecting the user to the past.  I grew up in a house that my parents moved into during the summer of 1957. My mother moved out about a year after my father died. People who are better at numbers than I am at numbers say that was fifty-five years in the same house. My friend Frank grew up quite differently. He was born in Burma. Frank's father was an academic and got on the wrong side of the government so Frank went to kindergarten in Rangoon. I no longer remember all of the places Frank and his brother lived during their young lives but clearly, they saw a whole lot more of the world than I did living in Quincy. Frank's parents sucked up the culture wherever they lived. Frank's mom bought fabrics and had clothes made for her bought shoes ( I was lucky enough to briefly own a pair of her brass-heeled embellished high-heeled mules which I passed on to the girl w...

 since I last posted. Caleb and his mom came by to tie the tzitzit. Since you asked. they were both very happy with the tallit. That Shabbat I attended Caleb's bar-mitzvah at his synagogue.  Aside from being smart and a good artist, Caleb has a beautiful voice.  I had only met Caleb wearing his hat and a mask. At synagogue, he was wearing a kippah and when he was reading Torah or leading services he was unmasked.  It is only as I pulled the photos for this post that I realized why his face was so unfamiliar to me. I had never actually seen his face before. It was only after I had finished both the Torah mantle and Caleb's tallit that I could go get my second Covid booster shot and risk being laid low by a reaction to it. I am so glad that I waited because a day after my booster I had to nap for five hours in the middle of the day and then remained dragged out for a few more days. My days have been filled. I have baked several batches of bread. I have been working awa...