The Road Ends Here

I went to a funeral this morning for a girlfriend's dad. He's suffered from Alzheimer's for nearly a decade and as a result was put in a nursing home some eight years ago. Two weeks ago he became sick and was put in hospital, which is where he passed away on Shabbos...his daughter and wife at his side.

I went to the funeral chapel and to the cemetery, as well. With car blinkers flashing and with police escort at major traffic intersections, we made our way in a procession to the cemetery.

My blood began to roil. Why? Because I could see that there are very chutpahdik drivers out there, who cut in to these funeral processions. It's not as if one ought not to know that this is a procession; it's easily recognized with the many cars, their blinkers and the funeral chapel's placard sticking out of the front hood of each car.

But on at least two occasions en route, someone from the center lane cut into my outer lane, driving in front of me. The second "interference" (for lack of a better word) actually used this tactic for his gain. With the policeman moving us speedily through red lights, and a couple of back streets, this "schnorrer" (for lack of a better word) took advantage of his position in our procession. The minute we hit the main street again, he jumped into the center lane and was off on his merry way.

I immediately called my husband to complain about the chutzpah of some people; he said there ought to be a name for such a person. No doubt there is, but it wouldn't be polite of me to put it in print.

So I challenge any and all of you to come up with a name for "a person who cuts into a funeral motorcade but doesn't belong there." (Maybe together we can come up with some new term that can be entered into that famous Washington Post -- I believe it is -- word contest for new expressions.)

***************************

And on my way out of the cemetery, as I tried to merge into the main intersection, I saw a sign across the street on an empty lot in this residential area. The sign said something like:
FUTURE SITE OF B'NAI BRITH ALZHEIMER'S HOME.

How cruel, I thought, to be placing such a Jewish institution opposite a Jewish cemetery!

Cinq/Five/Cinco/Chamesh

I saw the following meme on Robert Avrech's blog, and decided to complete it on my own blog. Here goes...five:

5 things I was doing 10 years ago:

1) I was copy editing romance novels
2) I was celebrating 5 years of married life
3) I was mothering two toddlers
4) I was reading bedtime stories to my kids
5) I was stepping on many pieces of Lego

5 things on my to-do list today:

1) Take the first shift of kids to school
2) Take the second shift of one kid to school
3) Make my 11:00 a.m. appointment at a placement agency
4) Visit my parents
5) Pick up all 3 kids from school

5 snacks I love:

1) shelled sunflower seeds
2) ripple potato chips
3) a piece of hard cheese
4) clementines
5) any kind of chocolate bar that has nuts inside

5 things I'd do if I were a millionaire:

1) start a family foundation and give donations to countless worthwhile medical, educational and social causes
2) share my wealth with our siblings and their families
3) take our children, our siblings and their children on a really nice family vacation
4) invest for our children's future
5) make my parents' lives as comfortable as possible, with the right medical care and home care

5 places I have lived:

1) Toronto --my childhood home
2) Toronto -- our apartment when we married
3) Toronto -- our first home after the apartment
4) Toronto -- our current home
5) Israel

5 jobs I have had:

1) Copy editor
2) Proofreader
3) Administrative assistant in a Jewish day school
4) Assistant in the book return dept. of a university library
5) Assistant in a Jewish community information service

Mission of Love

Please take the time to watch this video compilation about the victims of the Mumbai Chabad House.

It is most moving.

Interpretation

Was in a mall today and saw a sign advertising a shop where they sell smoking accoutrements -- tobacco, rolling papers, cigars, cigarettes, cigarillos, etc. The shop is called HOLY SMOKES.

What a great name, I thought.

But I also thought that such a store, with such a name, should be serviced by a bunch of nuns and priests.

Could you just imagine the scene? Nice Jewish girl goes in, looks around, sees a nun playing with the rosary around her neck.

"Can I help you?" the nun asks.

"No, just looking. I wanted to see what the store offers."

"Hmm. Well, smoking is truly bad for your health, but we raise funds through our sales to help support the children in our orphanage. Our bodies are truly our sanctuaries, and we must honor them for as long as we can...but if you've got to smoke, well then just think how you're helping our children."

And with that, she hands me a button that says, "HOLY SMOKES....Save the Children."

(I don't mean to insult anyone with my absurd imagination. Sorry if I might've.)

Conehead Wannabes

On Motzei Shabbos we rented movies and one of them was THE CONEHEADS, based on the Saturday Night Live skits. We had "family night" and together with drinks and bowls of popcorn, we gathered in the family room to watch...and laugh...and laugh...and laugh.

Our family's new "buzz phrase" is "We come from France" as said by Jane Curtin and Dan Akroyd. We use the same inflection as their characters do, and my kids have it down to an art already.

I learned just how much of an impact the movie made on our kids when I went grocery shopping this evening with Adina. While we were in the produce section, she suddenly let out a shriek a la Jane Curtin's character.

Why? you ask.

Adina had spotted a display of eggplants.

She had the voice/scream perfect, and I burst out laughing alongside her. And as I relayed the story to my kids upon coming home, I couldn't help but burst out laughing again.

Live ... from Toronto ... it's the CONEHEAD WANNABES!

Check Out This Blog

For some reason I can't add new blog names to my sidebar, so in the meantime, this blog is worthy of a post instead, pointing you in the right direction. (in my case, westbound on Highway 401!)

I discovered this blogger a couple of weeks ago, and Carmi's posts have not disappointed me yet. His visual creativity and his creativity with language are entertaining.

Do check out http://writteninc.blogspot.com/ and tell him pearliesofwisdom sent you.

My Favorite Word...

...is PNEU, the French word for "tire".

The "P" is pronounced, and so the word almost gets blurted out. I think it just sound so funny.

I was teaching my youngest son the word, and when he repeated it, I told him it sounds like a sneeze, and so I said "Bless you!"

Now, as I researched the word, I learned:

Indo-European Roots

ENTRY:
pneu-
DEFINITION:
To breathe. Imitative root. 1. sneeze, from Old English fnosan, to sneeze, from Germanic *fneu-s-. 2. snore, snort, from Old English fnora, sneezing, from Germanic *fnu-s-. 3. apnea, dipnoan, dyspnea, eupnea, hyperpnea, hypopnea, polypnea, tachypnea, from Greek pnein, to breathe, with o-grade nouns pnoi, -pnoia, breathing, and pno, breath. 4. Suffixed form *pneu-m. pneuma, pneumatic, pneumato-, pneumo-, from Greek pneuma, breath, wind, spirit. 5. Germanic variant root *fnes-. sneer, from Old English fnran, to snort, gnash one's teeth. (Pokorny pneu- 838.)

Yad Vashem Page for My Paternal Grandmother

Pages of Testimony

Last Name
ADLER

First Name
CHAJA

First Name
KHAIA

Father's First Name
YAAKOV

Father's First Name
LEIB

Mother's First Name
HANI

Mother's First Name
HENI

Sex
Female

Place of Birth
TARNOGROD,BILGORAJ,LUBLIN,POLAND

Citizenship
POLAND

Marital Status
MARRIED

Spouse's First Name
MEIR

Permanent residence
TARNOGROD,BILGORAJ,LUBLIN,POLAND

Profession
HOUSEWIFE

Place during the war
TARNOGROD,BILGORAJ,LUBLIN,POLAND

Place of Death
TARNOGROD,BILGORAJ,LUBLIN,POLAND

Date of Death
1942

Type of material
Page of Testimony

Submitter's Last Name
STRUZER

Submitter's First Name
GITEL

Submitter's First Name*
GIZELA

Relationship to victim
NEIGHBOUR

Registration date
01/01/1956



When my father was in Israel for the first time some years ago, he and my mother went to visit Yad Vashem. Upon entering his mother's name, he came across this listing, to his utmost surprise. A former neighbor had thought to list my grandmother in the Yad Vashem records and my father was overwhelmed and grateful. Unfortunately, when he tried to contact that neighbor who'd given my grandmother's name, he learned from her daugher that she'd already passed away. He had wanted to thank her....for remembering and for giving my grandmother some kind of final resting place.

THE WALLS OF THE GHETTO

The walls of the ghetto encircled you.

The walls of the ghetto enclosed you.

The walls of the ghetto framed you.

Framed your life and the lives of your loved ones.

You, with your tattered yellow star marking you

Jew. Schweinhund. Part of a damned nation.

It is fear that fed you when the cupboards were bare.

It is bravery that sustained you when that fear was spent.

You fought to the bitter end --

The rat-tat-tat of machine gun artillery

echoing off the barren walls of that wasteland.

The raining of bombs all around you.

The smell of death hovering... Always hovering.

With hands up in the air, with this gesture of surrender,

of final supplication

You the boy, already a man, left your legacy.

And we remember. We always remember...

Something to Ponder

Has it ever occurred to any of you how many times you've gone to weddings, bar mitzvahs, bat mitzvahs, engagement parties, retirement parties, staff parties, etc, have posed for pics or have had candid pics taken of you when you weren't aware of a photographer around...or have sat at a table with people at any of these types of affairs and have had a microphone shoved in your hand and a video camera with the spotlight on you. You're supposed to give a congratulatory message to the new happy couple or to the shining boy of thirteen or the sparkling girl of twelve.

Have you ever thought about all these pics and footage taken of you....that you've never ever seen?

No doubt you've already reached your total 15 minutes of fame in these many simcha videos...but never actually got to see them.

No doubt your face fills up pages in photo albums on coffee tables and on bookshelves...but you never actually got to see them.

I think the next time I go to a simcha and the videographer goes around to each person at the table to say a few words, I'll put up my hand and say really loudly, "Sorry, I'm on strike."

And when asked to pose for a group shot, I'll put up my hand and say really loudly, "Can't do it. I need to sign a model release...do you have one handy?" (of course they won't)

And when it's the end of the evening, and time to say goodbye and mazel tov to the hosts, and time to hand over the envelope with the "gift" (check), I'll put up my hand instead and say really loudly,"I can't give this to you unless you promise to invite me over to see the pics/video once they're ready..."

Prayer Box (as opposed to Prayer Book)

'The JewBerry': Praying every day on the PDA

06/11/2008
ASSOCIATED PRESS NEW YORK

Thousands of observant Jews around the world are praying three times a day - using their PDA.

A software program for BlackBerries combines Hebrew prayers and technology, the brainchild of two entrepreneurs who attended New York's Yeshiva University. They dubbed it "the JewBerry" - a $30 program that provides texts of daily prayers instead of the traditional, printed book. The program is not linked to Research in Motion Ltd., maker of the BlackBerry.

"Throughout the day, Jews gather in office-building stairwells and conference rooms to pray, and while sometimes you might not remember your prayer book, no one goes anywhere without their BlackBerry," says co-creator Jonathan Bennett of Cedarhurst, Long Island. Among JewBerry users is the president of Yeshiva University, Richard Joel. "I love it, because now I can not only look how the market is doing, but I can also say my evening prayers," he says, adding that "at the heart of what Yeshiva is about is the notion that it's not our technology that informs civilization; it's our values."

http://www.jewberry.com

Lost & Found

I'm a mom who likes to stay on top of things if I can, even to the point of knowing what my kids wear to school. But it is obvious that not all parents are like me.

On Friday, when I came to pick up the kids, my youngest ran to the car without his jacket; he'd forgotten it in the schoolyard and went to retrieve it...but it wasn't there where he'd left it with his knapsack and lunchbox. He checked the lost and found, as well as his classroom, but it wasn't there.

There was, however, a very similar jacket, just a shade darker, lying there on the cold concrete near to where my son had left his jacket. Believing that there had been a switchoff done in error by a kid, I took that jacket, assuming and hoping that my son's jacket would appear in the school's lost and found on Monday and I'd leave this jacket in its place.

I got home and looked closer at the jacket; on first glance, it really looked the same as my son's, but a shade darker, a different store label affixed to it and a couple sizes smaller than my son's. And there was no name.

My son's jacket does have his name and phone number, so it's easily identifiable.

If in fact, this was a case of mistaken jacket identity, I couldn't understand that a parent wouldn't notice the difference in jackets or spot our family name in our jacket.

So throughout the weekend, I hoped I was correct and that Noam's jacket would show up in the lost and found on Monday or Tuesday.

It didn't...but I did the right thing and left the other jacket in the lost and found.

But you wouldn't believe the items that appear in those big baskets, just waiting to be claimed by their rightful owners.

There are countless school uniform jackets, and designer jackets, hats and gloves, and lunchboxes.

Please tell me how a child, however old or young, can lose a lunchbox and not realize it or not have a parent realize it or think, "Perhaps my son/daughter left it at school. I'd better check the lost and found." Does a child not think that they need a lunchbox for the next day? And if the lunchbox is labeled, as I saw on several of them, it is so much easier to claim.

Okay, so the school jackets all look the same, but many are labeled. Don't you think to even give a quick peek in the lost and found?

I recall losing a winter hat when I was in kindergarten. I looked in the school's lost and found many times without success. When I was in grade one, I checked it again, and what do you think I found? Yes, my hat. Better late than never...!

There are many wealthy families at the kids' school; perhaps they don't notice when an item goes missing or perhaps they don't care. And my guess is that many of the kids don't care enough either if they lose something 'cause they know it'll get replaced.

Each term, I believe, before Chanukah, Pesach and the end of school, the administration takes a day and displays all the lost and found articles for parents/kids to come and look at and claim whatever is theirs. All the items that go unclaimed are donated to charity.

Perhaps it's somewhat silly to think that a kid didn't bring a lunch to school for three months 'cause her lunchbox went missing; perhaps a child's fingers were numb over the month of February because his gloves went missing when the weather was cold. But it's sillier to think that people don't even consider checking the lost and found until it's too late.

I'm still hoping my son's jacket will turn up at school. In the meantime I told him to keep an eye on the kids in the schoolyard and see if he spots anyone wearing what looks like his jacket. If he spots it, he is not to accuse anyone, "That's MY jacket," but to say rationally that he thinks it's his jacket and let him check it for his name.

I'm also hoping that by the first "clean sweep of the year" of the lost and found, most of the items will have already been rightfully claimed by students, nannies, and parents.

Missing Max

I've mentioned our shih-poo countless times since we got him over 2 1/2 years ago.

Max is a beautiful, smart and most lovable animal, yet he can also be annoying...at least to me. You see, Max thinks I'm his mom and doesn't want to let me out of his sight much of the time. If I'm at the computer, Max might lay on the floor beside me. Even if he's asleep, the minute I get up to go downstairs, Max is up and right there alongside me.

If I'm in the bathroom with the door closed, the dog doesn't respect my privacy and comes in unannounced. And if he doesn't come in, he's waiting right there outside the bathroom for when I emerge.

The kids know Max primarily loves me. My husband knows Max primarily loves me. I know Max primarily loves me, but I don't want to be the only one he shares his love with.

I'll tell you one thing, though. Whenever I come home from somewhere and open the door, Max is sitting right there, excited to greet me, excited to see his mom. The kids could be somewhere in the house within earshot of the front door and MAYBE they'll call out, "Hi, Mom...Hi Eema," if I'm lucky. But Max is there all the time to say hello.

But today he's not here. I dropped him off at the groomer this a.m. and will pick him up later. And the truth is that since I've come home, I've felt a bit lost without my canine's presence in the house. It's a gorgeous, mild day in Toronto, and I came home from grocery shopping, thinking "I should take Max for a walk" but then remembering he's not home today. And when he wasn't at the door to greet me, I felt a bit hollow and a little lost in my own home.

Funny how we attach ourselves to pets and how they attach themselves to us. Max must feel just as I do today when I leave the house in the a.m. and not return for hours sometimes, or when he sees us go out as a family and wants to be included, but we don't take him along.

I'm looking forward to seeing him in an hour or so, and I think I'll whisper in his ear that I missed him today, and then I'll compliment him on his clean, shorn appearance. I think he'll like that...and then he'll no doubt follow me closely, hoping for more compliments to come his way!

A La Jerry Seinfeld

I used to write comedy bits...just in case I'd ever be brave enough to get up on stage on amateur night at a Toronto comedy club; after all, Jim Carrey, Howie Mandel and Mike Meyers all started in downtown Toronto.

So last night, I thought of this bit that I could just imagine Jerry Seinfeld using in one of his closing/opening monologues of his former TV show. I wanted to shower without getting my hair wet and pulled out a shower cap from the bathroom drawer. No doubt the shower cap was from one of my many -- NOT! -- vacations, so it was a standard issue cap found in hotel bathrooms.

I put it on my head and tried to tuck my hair in; when I got it in on one side, the hair on the other side popped out. When I tried to tuck in the hair at the nape of my neck, the hair on the front of my head popped out of the cap.

By no measure is this shower cap designed for adults with typical-sized heads; it is built for mini people with mini heads.

And as I stood there and struggled with this tiny bit of elasticized plastic, I grinned...'cause I could just picture Jerry Seinfeld talking about this bit of "nothing".

Amy Winehouse's "Rehab" in Yiddish

Click on this link for the Yiddish version of "Rehab".

Good Shabbos...and don't drink too much!

http://www.revver.com/video/857600/amy-winehouses-rehab-in-yiddish/

And the Moral of the Story Is....

...CLEAN UP AFTER YOUR CHICKENS!!

or even better: The moral of the story is "A bird in the hand is worth...$10,000 in fines!"


Monsey Kaparos Organizer Face $10,000 in Fines
October 11, 2008

The Journal News reports: Organizers of a religious ceremony involving chickens face up to $10,000 in fines for failing to properly clean up after the ritual, the Rockland County Health Department said today.

The group running the kapparot ceremony was cited for two violations of the Rockland sanitary code each of the five days that thousands of chickens were kept on the grounds of the former Monsey Jewish Center, said Thomas Micelli, director of environmental health for the Health Department.

Inspectors found there was a large amount of offensive material - including chicken feces, feathers and blood - on the site each of the five days, resulting in five the violations, Micelli said. Five additional violations were issued to the group for creating a public health nuisance.

The county got a court order Wednesday - the last day the ritual was performed - ordering the organizer and the property owner to stop the ceremony.

Chickens were still on the property yesterday, but had been removed by early this afternoon.

My Girls

I'm sending a shout-out to Terry & Betty...my girls.

These women have been in my life for decades -- Terry, since I was about five, when we met and blew soap bubbles together; Betty, since I was about 17, and switched to public high school to finish off there.

Both these women are my gal pals, my ladies, my "chiquitas", my email friends. No, we don't get to see each other tons, nor do we even talk on the phone tons, but we reach out and touch via the computer keyboard and messages several times a week...back and forth, back and forth.

With each of them having their own "peckelas" to deal with in life, and doing so with head held high, smiles and laughter, and a strong sense of self, these women are females to emulate, females to admire, females to just hang out with and shmooze with.

Thanks, both of you, for being my friend, for checking up on me when I don't surface too often, for making me laugh out loud in your own ways and for just being you. I wish you both a g'mar chatimah tovah and a very blessed New Year.

Ciao, bellas!

Lay It To Rest aka A Shanda

I was recently on a Jewish funeral chapel website, getting information about someone who'd passed away. I spotted a name I thought I recognized and decided to read the announcement and the guestbook entries affiliated with that person. Among the entries I found these: (note: I have removed all references to names, but that does not erase the actual impact of such words)


Entry : The news of the passing of my father XXXXXX just reached me yesterday Oct 1/08. XXX XXXXX was the father of XXXXXXXXand XXXXXXXX, and the Grandfather of XXX, XXXX, XXXX, XXXXand XXXX. The relationship between XXXX and his two children had been strained for past 39 years, we were kids when he married his second wife and over time he essentially failed to understand what being a father is. XXX was easily manoeuvred to disregard his kids, brothers, sisters, nephews and nieces and consequently was always finding ways to not have a relationship with us all. Nevertheless, it is shameful his kids and family were not notified of his passing, but I guess no one would expect any less. Approximately 6 months ago I heard XXXX was not well so I went to his home and asked security to buzz his suite. The women that answered told security she didn’t know who I was and not to allow me in????? Again, more disregard for his kids and for him as well. So, as I think about what our father gave us I will end by saying as adults my sister and I have learned how be stronger people better parents, better uncle and a better aunt. We commit to our family to never let anything or anyone get in the way of our relationship with our kids, our nephews and nieces. With all his shortcomings he is still our father and we always loved him.

Entry: In my time of grief and sorrow I am so revolted to read XXX's son's comments about his father and his one last attemp to defame his good name that I feel I must respond. XXX needed his kids when he was alive & fighting for his life with his terrible illness and not when he was dead. XXX always loved his kids and was so deeply hurt when he hefadn't heard from his son XXX for about 5 years. He contacted his daughter XXX when he became ill about 1-1/2 years ago and met with her. She showed no regard and was completely indifferent to his illness. When he asked to see his grandchildren she said "we'll see". He never heard from her again. Anyone who knew XXXX knows what a kind and loving person he was. Although it was erev Rosh Hashanah and people we busy preparing for the holiday, on such short notice they left everything to attend his funeral. The rabbi even remarked about the number of people who put themselves out and were there. This is the best respect Joe could have received. For a number of year XXXXand XXXX have shown no regard for their father and had no contact. They have always had a deep restment of me although for 25 years I tried to establish some kind of relationship for XXX's sake. I then just gave up. They should be ashamed of themselves for the hurt and suffering they caused their father and now I see they're trying to shift the blame This is something they'll have to live with for the rest of their lives. Everyone knows how I tried everything for XXX to extend his life and never left his side. I will always love and I miss him terribly. He was my rock. He always had a smile on his face and was very happy in our marriage. Even through his illness, he was not depressed. I saw to that. He was a wonderul loving husband.

Entry: We are very sorry to hear about uncle XXX. We wish we would have been notified about his passing, as the XXX family would have been in full attendance at the funeral. please accept our condolences.

Entry: This is disgraceful

Entry: Now this is one nice family!

Entry: Sorry about your loss; this page is for people to convey their condolences, not to air dirty laundry. let the man r.i.p.

Entry: My heartfelt condolences to the children and other family members who were not informed of their own father and uncles funeral. This is disgraceful!!! As a woman I would never allow any new husband to come in between my children and I. Unfortunately too many MEN allow the "new wife" to come between a loving family. Let him R.I.P. I'm sure there are 3 sides to this story.

Entry: I'm sure his kids would have left what they were doing on short notice if you would have told them their father died. You should be ashamed of yourself for airing dirty laundry on a public site.

Entry: This a disgrace to the deceased, your differences should be settled in a cage.

To say I was shocked by this public display is an understatement; apparently so were numerous others among the several memorial book entries.

I don't know this family; at this point I wouldn't even want to know this family.

But I can probably see how it started, why the son wrote what he did. He probably heard about his father's death and funeral and figured people would have been asking at the funeral why the man's own son and daughter didn't show up. He felt the need to let people know; this memorial book was the outlet for his anger and disappointment and to some extent, grief.

It is truly a shame how family units can disintegrate, how parents and/or children can be cast aside, can mean nothing anymore in a grand scheme of things.

May the man rest in peace, may his family know no more sorrow, and may they all discuss their grievances in the next world when they meet one another again, with Hashem as their judge.

Having read these entries, a saying from my school days came to mind: "Ezeh booshah v'cherpah." (Hebrew for "what an embarrassment and a disgrace")

I Wrote a Letter...

I have ALWAYS been known for my letter writing, my note writing.

Each one is personal, detailed, filled with the big picture and all the elements that make up that big picture.

When I spent half a year in Israel many years ago, I wrote lengthy, freeflowing letters to friends and family. They all commented on how wonderful it was to receive such letters, but not one person could write me a similar one in return.

Not that I wanted pages and pages of Toronto life, but I wanted morsels...and at least a couple of handfuls. Sometimes all I got back were a few crumbs. People were busy. Seemingly I wasn't...

Writing letters has always come easy to me. Doing so is easier than confronting a person at times; the invisible wall is up between you and the reader/recipient, but it is not a true barrier. In fact, that invisible wall allows for a freedom of sorts.

When people write thank-you notes for wedding gifts or engagement gifts, they write the same pat copy. I write warm notes intended solely for that particular reader, intended solely for what that person gave me. I've been told by many people that they love my notes, they keep my notes, they remember my notes...

When people lose someone in their life, I write notes of consolation; I dig into my heart for the words that will hopefully touch that person and console them in some small personal way.

I always try to make my words mean something to someone. They're not always supposed to be about me but rather, about the recipient.

It is my greatest pleasure to write letters; it is my greatest pleasure for me to touch someone with my words. It is my way of simply...sharing.

About ten days ago I checked out Facebook to see if a former classmate of mine was on it. I knew her birthday was around mine, and so I wanted to say hi and also wish her a happy birthday.

She was listed on Facebook so I dropped her a brief note, and she responded very happily, recalling that my birthday was also around hers and wishing me a happy birthday in return.

So I followed her note with quite a detailed lengthy one, responding to some of her comments and questions, and also simply catching her up on my life. It was no effort for me to do so; it just took a bit of time as I thought out my words.

I didn't expect a similar-length letter by any means, but I didn't expect this either, three sentences of a total six:

wow what a letter. i am intimidated to write you back. what a pleasure to read.

The fact that my letter intimidated her threw me; the compliment doesn't help pad that bit either.

I love making others happy with my words, but I never realized that I could intimidate someone with this...do I call it "my talent" or "my strength" or even "my signature"?

The New Year's a Comin'

Shanah Tovah from Pearliesofwisdom and family.

Wishing all of you and your families a very happy, healthy, prosperous and peaceful New Year.

May it be a good -- even a better! -- year for all of you.