A Hebrew school teacher is making the rounds in her second grade classroom, inspecting the young students’ High Holiday artwork. Some are drawing shofars, some are drawing apples and honey, some are making cards that say “I’m sorry.”
One of my favorite shul memories from my childhood is going with my Zayde to services on Shabbat morning. He had a regular ritual that during the Haftorah he and his friends would disappear from services into the small kitchen for a l’chaim.
Now the real fun starts. We’re going to do some Rosh HaShanah math. Don’t worry, this is fun math. And that’s coming from me, for whom there is no more moronic oxymoron than “fun math.” And since it’s yuntif, I won’t ask you to show your work. Ready? Here we go.
As we prepared for our move to Portland last year, the question nearly every person asked us was “Have you watched Portlandia?” We did actually catch some of the series to see what it was all about, but it’s after having lived here for over a year that the humor in the uniqueness of our city has become perfectly clear.
I am a suburbanite through and through. While other people live and die by the big city and the need to be part of it, as Steve Perry knows, I’m just a small town girl. I like being big-city-adjacent. I feel much more at home in my personal vehicle than taking public transportation.
If you’re like many Americans, you spent some time this spring living vicariously as citizens of the Commonwealth, anticipating the arrival of a second child to Prince William and Duchess Kate. Though we can assume baby Princess Charlotte will be her older brother’s equal in the eyes of her parents, in the royal line of succession, she will always be behind him.
Is there anything more unnerving than walking into a room while people are having a conversation, and at the moment you enter, the conversation stops? There’s a good chance the conversation just hit a natural pause or lull, but it’s easy to jump to the conclusion that the conversation must have been about you.