Thursday, July 28, 2005

...You Don't Say...

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Recently a person whom I know from years ago, a younger sibling to a former classmate, had reason to talk to my husband in shul. She was arranging a Shabbos playdate for her daughter with mine and gladly passed her daughter off to my husband to spend lunch and the afternoon at the House of TorontoPearl.

My husband later took the little girl back to shul with him at mincha time, so that she could be reunited with her parent. Shabbos is out rather late here, and for a seven-year-old, who's had to walk a far distance to reach a new friend's house, "tired" was the word of the day.

The next day I received a phone call from the little girl's mother, thanking us profusely for hosting her daughter for so many hours. She went on to explain how she'd spotted my husband, knew he was with my daughter and that my daughter and her daughter were friends at day camp and that maybe they could get together later in the afternoon. My husband was the one to take the bull by the horns and put forth the invitation for lunch and the afternoon at our house and the suggestion of the "reunion" plans. This girl's mother said, "Your husband is very friendly. He's such a nice man."

You don't say...

I think I found my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow when I found him. When I first met him, he impressed me as friendly and genuine and warm. When friends and family met him, they considered him in the same way. When he and I were just engaged, the father-in-law of one of his bosses told me what a fine, menschlich young man I was involved with.

For people to see him the way I saw him meant a lot to me and told me a lot about him. For people to continue to see him in that way means a lot to me.

I could not have seen myself marry anyone BUT a nice and decent and warm and friendly guy like him. From his first day as a new father -- "How do I hold the baby?" -- to the seasoned father who does ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING for his wife and children and for the people around him -- I have never doubted my decision to marry this man, to give my heart to him and to grow old together with him.

In fact, I love him very much.

...You don't say...


(If TorontoPearl's husband is reading this, just remember... we got engaged on August 22, 1993 and we got married on December 19, 1993 -- don't reverse the numbers!

I can just imagine you now, Toronto Pearl's husband. You're probably replying, "...You don't say...")

Seek... and Ye Shall Find

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These recent searches might've led you to Pearlies of Wisdom:

1) words of wisdom on death of a street bum

2) Boy Vey! (I've had many of those searches, as I once critiqued (read: criticized!) a book by that title)

3) "Match Made in Manhattan" blog

4) "traveler's prayer" English translation Jewish

5) Welcome back to school messages for parents

6) tadig hints (I realized after I saw this search that I'd written about a Persian rice dish, tadig, that I'd enjoyed while in L.A. last month)

I really want to know about #1 and #5.

I've not eulogized any street bums, here or abroad.

But I could use a welcome back to school message. However, I picture it goes something like this:

"Welcome back to tuition headaches, financial strains, school supply lists, pettiness on the playground, cattiness in the classroom, hell in the hallway, parental peer pressure, lots of professional-development-days- so-you'd-better-find-a-caregiver-for-your-children-for-all-those-days-that-they're-off-and-you-and-your-husband-are-working, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.... Isn't it nice to be back? "

Adventures in Conversation -- AND "French Rabbit"

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I was flipping through a magazine late at night when an ad caught my eye. It was for a brand of wine from Australia; I couldn't care less about the product, but the ad, an interesting one, associated the wine with "Adventures in Conversation." There was a kind of road map running across a 2-page spread, a foldout page, and scattered along the road map were points of reference. They got me thinking about what we do when we hold conversations, and here are the points of reference for you to think about.


and lastly...


Okay, now talk amongst yourselves....


Today I received an e-mail ad for a new product put out by the LCBO, the Liquor Control Board of Ontario, a board that was so uncontrolled, that the countless numbers of people who work there were going to go on strike...but it somehow got bypassed last evening.

Anyhow this ad was for a new wine, packaged not in a bottle or flask, but in a TETRA PACK -- those recyclable cardboard boxes that hold milk or juice.

FIrstly, I wouldn't be buying any kind of alcohol, even a good wine, in a TETRA PACK.

Secondly, I wouldn't buy a wine product that's called "French Rabbit." It sounds much too gross for me, certainly not like the name of a wine. It sounds like a cocktail --"Yes, I'll have a French Rabbit...hold the cherry." Or like a very erotic French film: "Yeah, I went with my friends to see 'French Rabbit' at the Fox Cinema in the Beaches. Truffaut knew what he was doing when he made that film. I didn't even need the subtitles; I understood pretty much of what was happening from what I saw on-screen."

"French Rabbit" -- ewwwwww.......