#maybe a small piece on shabbat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

docholligay · 3 years ago

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how do you decide on the whole meal? do you center around the meat, or flavor profiles, or just stuff you feel like making?

So I make a "big meal," for most people, every single Shabbat. I feed between 6-12 people every Friday night. A sampling below, because I try not to bother you with a picture every week, but I am very proud.

I love it! It's always been a major dream of mine to have a crowded Shabbat table, and it's my TRUE happy place when I have guests. No one would ever accuse me of being a Chabadnik, but one thing I agree with intensely is the desire to beautify Shabbat and make it a special, set aside time for the family. We fold fancy napkins and buy nice wines, and I cook a big indulgent meal. And at this point, honestly, it's not the biggest challenge in the world. I'm just so used to it.

So, when I make the menu for the week, a lot of times the first thing I do is check the weather. Will Shabbat be chilly? Or hot? Would it be nice to have something that heats up the oven for hours?

Second-Fourth thing I do, depending on my mood: What do I have in the freezer I'd like to get used up? Like right now, I'm thinking I might have chicken parts, and since I was just talking about coq au vin, that might be a nice thing to do, I've not made that in awhile. But also, Jill JUST got a deer, so do I want to celebrate the first kill of the season?

Second-Fourth thing I do, depending on my mood: Is there anything I've been reading about lately that I'd like to try? I sometimes get a yen for Indian food, which I adore, or one time in researching for an OW fic I found a neat Egyptian recipe I wanted to make a built the whole meal around it. I love to make schwarma every so often. Sometimes I long for chicken and dumplings!

Second-Fourth thing I do, depending on my mood: Are there any special requests people would really like to see? Jetty always wants mac and cheese, Jill loves my meatloaf, Mike's always begging for a spaghetti and meatballs. But I also ask! Sometimes people remind me of things I haven't made in a long time!

So once I figure out whatever the "cornerstone" of my meal is, I build everything around it. Sometimes that's a dessert, sometimes it's a main, sometimes it's a side, but whatever it is, the meal gets built around that piece. So let's say I want to make crispy oven roasted potatoes. What goes with that? Hypothetically, anything, but let's take that out. If I have 8 mouths, I need two sheet pans, so that's my big oven taken, so it has to be able to cook stovetop, smoker, or or small oven, unless I decide to bring out the bigass roaster. So my brain goes: Okay, what can fit in my small oven and feed 8? Meatloaf, salmon filet, casseroles, lasagna (which is technically a casserole I guess), chicken pot pie. Okay so what really calls for a side with those? Meatloaf and salmon filet. Okay so what do I want to make for another side that can be done stovetop or smoker? You know I'd like to try smoking brussel sprouts. Okay great, that can realistically go with either, so Jill's just got a deer, I'll tip it to her, and my meatloaf is what's being served.

For dessert, matching can be easy, and sometimes unnecessary. Like meatloaf is so straightforward that almost anything can go with it so I go into: what does my time look like? Easy-peasy--roasted potatoes are nearly nothing, smoker is set and forget (and forgiving) meatloaf and be made hours before. SO I can do a more challenging dessert. Maybe something I've never done. I got through my books and see something for a rosemary pound cake, and that would bring a lot of those venison flavors along with it. I'll do it with a rum whipped cream and wine-soaked fruit.

And that's how it's done!

#the holligay season

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talesofafangirlwithadvr · 4 years ago

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Jan/Feb 2021 Picks

HELLO! It’s been a while, but I’M BACK!! Life has gotten a lot busier as I started Grad School this January. So, I feel it may be tough being on time with future Monthly Wraps like I’ve done in the past with working on my MFA, and my job. I’m going to probably do more seasonal wrap ups when I get the time. I also think I’ll be posting more individual posts as I watch an episode. Because even with a busier schedule, there is always time for TV and there’s so much I want to talk about!

You know the drill. Spoilers are coming.....

You’ve been warned :)

WANDAVISION

I want to start off by mentioning that I have not watched this week’s episode yet. So the last one I saw was EPISODE 6 with Halloween in the late 90s/early 2000s.

THIS SHOW! OMG.

I didn’t know what I was signing up for when I watched the first episode and I have been blown away. It is such a cool concept and I love the fact that everyone who watches it is confused. There have been so many interesting theories out there and I am so curious what is going to wind up being true. I love all the nods to old sitcoms and TV shows as well as all the MCU Easter Eggs. (I mean they got X-men’s Quicksilver-like WOW.) It feels really Black Mirror at times with the breaking of the fourth wall. I will never be able to shake the feeling I got in Episode 3, when Vision reversed. (And then I saw a bunch of videos with him looking at the camera as Wanda looks at the TV. Eww I don’t like it, but it’s such a good move on their point.) I love the outside plot as well and the characters who were previously side characters in other MARVEL movies. The love for Jimmy Woo is astounding and I’m here for it. I’m glad it’s Friday, so I can watch the next episode. I’m just upset that we’re so close to the show ending. The next Disney Plus Marvel shows better be just as good. Wandavision set the bar high.

NANCY DREW

If you’ve visited this page recently, you know I have a very strong love for this show. It is the only one I am still watching religiously on the CW and I am tuning in the night it airs. (That is HUGE for me.) IT IS JUST SO GOOD AND I DON’T KNOW WHERE TO START....

2x05 just aired, which would have been the season 1 finale before COVID and I have it saved on my DVR to watch again. There’s just so much I want to relive and catch that I missed the first watch through. It would have been SUCH A GOOD FINALE, but I’m happy that we can continue with new episodes starting next week. And with the way it ended...there’s so much I need to know!! I’m just curious how fast they’re going to develop certain plots. I love the Drew Crew and how they are a family. Each character is so well developed and their chemistry is great. I love learning more about each of them and watching them develop. My favorite character is definitely Ace. I love all his witty lines and how he is opening up more to the group as well as to us, the audience, as we get more of a look into his personal life. I enjoy all of his scenes with his dad and specifically liked when they were celebrating Shabbat. (I am also here for the Nancy and Ace content. I gush more about this on my other blog: lydia-whogowith-stiles. Check it out if you want to hear more.)

THE WATCH

When I watched the Christmas special (or was it New Years? and why does that feel so long ago) of Doctor Who, BBC America kept advertising a new show called the Watch. Due to the extensive amount of commercials, I decided to tape the first two episodes (which premiered back to back) to see what it was all about. I was unaware that this series is based on the book series created by Terry Pratchett. When I came to see if people were talking about it on Tumblr, I saw that a lot of people didn’t like it because of how drastically different it was. As I was unfamiliar with the original, I can’t compare. The TV show was eight episodes and I just watched the last one that aired this past Sunday. I definitely liked the first half of the season more (I noticed my mind start to drift as I watched later ones), but thought the finale was good. I really enjoyed how they incorporated the theme song. I didn’t realize the connection earlier and now can’t stop humming it. (I don’t know if there will be another season or not.) I enjoyed the characters and how it was like nothing I’ve seen on TV before. It got me thinking a lot about blending genres. I would still recommend checking it out.

ZOEY’S EXTRORDINARY PLAYLIST

I was VERY excited for this show to come back. I loved the first season so much. It’s just such a heartfelt show and it helped me survive the early parts of quarantine. So far, this season I am noticing how detailed the musical performances are. Mandy Moore is doing an AMAZING job. The choreography is *chefs kiss* I also feel like the song choices have been great and not always the ones I think that would be picked. We are getting to learn more about each character and watch Zoey and her family as they continue life after losing Mitch. I am here for Mo and Max’s restaurant. I think the concept would be so cool in real life. Who knows maybe we’ll see one now. (Max’s rendition of ‘Numb’ was amazing. I’ve never heard the song like that and I think it might be one of my favorites of the season so far.) I hope Max and Zoey get back together by the end of the season. It did feel fast, so I do understand why they had to break up, but it still makes me sad that we watched them get together and then it was taken away from us. The last episode before the break was so powerful and I think the show did an amazing job applying real world issues into their plot. It did not feel forced at all and brought so much awareness. Upset we have to wait so long for a new episode.

SECRETS OF SULPHUR SPRINGS

Are you looking for a good mystery, but don’t think Disney Channel can provide it? Think again. I have to say, when I started watching I was not expecting this show to be a part of my monthly picks. It pleasantly surprised me. The show involves the mystery of a young girl, Savannah, who went mysteriously missing at camp back in the 90s. Apparently, her ghost still haunts the hotel that was on the camp grounds to this day. Then Griffin and his family buy the hotel with intent of fixing it up and reopening it after all these years. The people in the town think they’re crazy because of its past. But there’s something more going on with Griffin’s dad as well as some of the other adults in the town. They know something about Savannah’s disappearance, but aren’t saying anything about it. While this is a kid’s show (and only half hour episodes) it has been interesting to see where the story will go. I’m sure I am imagining much more intense things for her disappearance than what actually happened. It’s also not super cheesy or have bad acting, which is refreshing. (I really feel Disney Channel has gone down.) Either way, I don’t know how many episodes are left to air, but I think we’re pretty close to the end. If you’re looking for a quick, entertaining mystery I would highly recommend.

MISS SCARLET AND THE DUKE

And here come my period pieces (ironically both from Masterpiece/PBS this time). I know last year I felt like I watched a lot of historical watches at the beginning of the year. We’ll see if that continues to happen this year too. It does serve as a nice escape. Plus, these are some really good stories.

Miss Scarlet and the Duke is a part of Masterpiece Mystery on PBS, although it aired on a different network in the UK. It is (another) mystery series (shocking I know with that title!) It follows Eliza Scarlet who has a nose for mystery, but as a woman living in the Victorian era does not have any rights except for being a wife and mother (two things she would rather not be). When her father dies (apparently from a heart attack...emphasis on apparently), she takes over his Private Investigator business. Much to the dismay of long time family friend William “The Duke” who is a Detective Inspector for Scotland Yard. Eliza is often in his office as she gets arrested for being places she shouldn’t or trying to get information out of him. This element of Eliza having to work in a very male dominated Victorian society is one that I feel I haven’t really seen on a TV show. I really like her dynamic with William. There’s always that feeling of “will they won’t they,” but I don’t feel the show just focuses on that. The mystery is the heart of it all. This last week’s episode was REALLY GOOD. As we got to find out more regarding her father’s death. I hear a lot of people want a season 2 and I am right there with them. This show deserves it.

ALL CREATURES GREAT AND SMALL

Another PBS Masterpiece watch. I love this show, so much more than I was anticipating. It is so heartfelt and makes me so happy and in a good mood after watching it. It follows James Herriot who has recently graduated from veterinary school, but is struggling finding a job. Then he gets a call from Siegfried Farnon’s veterinary practice in Yorkshire. Siegfried is known for having a harsh demeanor and temper, so the assistants he hires don’t often last long. Spoiler alert, that should be pretty obvious, James does. The cast of characters are so lovely and I like all their relationships with one another. The show takes places in the 1930s and I realized I don’t often watch things in this era, so that has been fun to explore. The sets and locations are BEAUTIFUL. In the episodes, we often get these amazing shots that sweep over the exterior and I want to travel to Yorkshire like tomorrow. (See more escapism, it’s great.) The main plot follows everyone interact in the town and watching James become a more confident and experienced veterinarian (which I decided I could never do after watching). I heard that it has been renewed for a second season so that is so fantastic.

FATE: THE WINX SAGA

The first things I heard about this show was how disappointed everyone was in how they decided to adapt the Winx Club show from their childhood. On this I can agree, but I decided to watch the show anyway. I pretended that it was something new entirely and I have to say I enjoyed it. Of course, there were parts that bothered me and then I had to remember it was a teen show, so angst would be annoying. I think overall it was too short (and should have at least 8 or 10 episodes), but I’m happy that they were able to conclude the main plot well. (Although we did get that cliffhanger, but it is exciting that it was released the show just got renewed for a second season the other day.) I really liked Silva-mainly because it was great seeing Thomas from Downton Abbey in something else. I also enjoyed seeing Jacob Duchman in more things. It was a surprise to see him in Medici and I am just happy he is adding more to his IMDB.

Quick and addicting watch. Add it to your queue. Just forget it’s supposed to be based on something else.

BLOWN AWAY SEASON 2

Continuing with the Netflix picks, one of my FAVORITE picks from 2020 got a season 2 and it is already on Netflix! That’s right Blown Away season 2 is now available. I seriously loved the first season of this show SO MUCH! Glass blowing is such a magical process and I am mesmerized every time I watch it. It felt weird starting this show with all new contestants, but then Alex came back as a guest judge and I was so happy. It is just as addicting and I cannot wait to see who wins this season. I am just trying not to rush the episodes.

VIOLETTA SEASON 3 UPDATE

I know you were all dying to know...

After taking a hiatus from watching during the holidays, I have gotten back into watching the Disney Channel telenovela on Disney Plus. I am now on episode 68. Things are really starting to happen and I am finding myself getting sucked in again, which makes me happy. Episode 60 (pictured above) had A LOT happen and really was a turning point for the second half of the show. Can’t wait to keep watching. Some really awesome songs from these last set of episodes.

AND NOW FOR MY NOT LOVING IT PICK:

LEGACIES

This third season has really disappointed me so far. As I’ve previously discussed on this page, it feels like they are just reusing previous plots from the last two seasons when there is so much more they can do. There was so much promise for this show and I loved the Vampire Diaries and Originals so much, that it’s sad to see Legacies miss the mark. I wish they gave Hope more storylines that didn’t revolve around Landon. She is such a strong character and is SO POWERFUL. This is something we rarely see and it shouldn’t only be shown to save a guy (multiple times). Their couple plot is continually doing the same thing. I want to see a lot more development with this show over this season to keep me watching. I am actually happy that there isn’t a new episode until March 11th. (That’s saying something...)

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benevolentbirdgal · 4 years ago

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A guide to 13 Jewish holidays / Jewish Writing Advice

Depending on how you want to count, there are theoretically 47 Jewish holidays, assuming you count all minor, major, and modern celebrations, both minor and major fasts, special shabbats, and each Rosh Chodesh (new month) individually. Since that post would be A) neverending, B) probably not useful in its entirety here, and C) really not applicable to most Jews you meet or write, I’m going to tell you about 13 celebrations (12 holidays plus the category of Rosh Chodesh and the category of special Shabbats), which will be plenty long enough. Maybe I’ll write a super-niche passionate post about the minor fasts or modern holidays later, but today is not that day.

Usual disclaimers: I’m one me. The Jewish community is 14 million and super diverse. These are broad strokes and local tradition may vary. I operate from an American context and communal gathering/food sharing practices come from the Before Times (in some cases, the long before now times).

I’m going to go in the order of the Jewish calendar, instead of likelihood of celebration, and note the most popular ones as I go. Three general notes as well: I will be using the most common transliteration/translation of the Hebrew names, Jewish holidays (and days in general) start at sunset and operate on a separate calendar that fluctuates relative to the secular Gregorian calendar. The Hebrew dates are listed with the months they generally fall in on the Gregorian calendar. Holidays marked with an * will likely merit their own list at some point.

Additionally, how long many holidays last also varies depending on location. For some holidays (NOT fasts), diaspora (outside Israel) Jews celebrate an extra day for Jewish-diaspora-is-complicated-story-for-another-time reasons. I will note these holidays.

*Rosh HaShanah (Tishrei 1, September-October): Jewish new year (well, one of four, but for the purposes of our discussion today, the Jewish new year). 1a. Typically celebrated by synagogue attendance, consumption of foods that are sweet and/or round (or have heads, like fish heads). Longer services than normal Saturday morning services but not by much, even when combined with regular Shabbat services. Big time to gather with families for a large meal. 1b. Lots of blowing of shofars at specific times, shofars, which are cleaned and sometimes painted ceremonial ram’s horns (we’re operating on 1200 B.C.E. tech here). Some of us are very good at blowing the shofar. Some of us are assuredly not. 1c. One of the most common holidays to celebrate, part of the “High Holidays.” If your character is remotely observant or has a very Jewish family, they celebrate this holiday. 1d. One day in Israel, two in the diaspora.

Yom Kippur (Tishrei 10, September-October): The second holiday in the “High Holidays.” Yom Kippur is ten days after Rosh HaShanah, known as the “Days of Awe” (or the “Days of Repentance”). The Days of Awe, outside of orthodoxy and people who do prayers every day, aren’t really celebrated outside of asking people for forgiveness and tashlich (throwing away sins by yeeting small pieces of bread or other small foodstuffs into a pond). 2a. Yom Kippur is a 25 hour fast. Fasting on Yom Kippur means the following: No food. No water. Medication is typically okay (and most denominations are 100% okay with food/water necessary to accompany medication). No sex. This is usually extended to no sexual contact in general. No wearing of leather. You’ll see a lot of sneakers on Yom Kippur. No perfumes or lotions. Bathing/washing. This one is the one most people ditch. 2b. Jewish “adults” who are not health-impaired are expected to fast. Pregnant women, sick people, and the elderly explicitly get a choice and most of the former two do not fast. Lots of old folks do and have very strong opinions about it (I fast, but have gotten second-hand awkward watching a healthy 23-year-old explain why they aren’t doing so to an 89 year old survivor who is). There are young/healthy/not pregnant people who choose not to fast, but this is generally frowned upon. 2c. One day holiday regardless of location. Starts at beginning of sunset one day and ends at complete darkness (ideally with three stars in the sky) the next. Fasts are typically broken as a group over a large meal. 2d. It’s very likely that your Jewish character “celebrates” Yom Kippur and whether they fast or not is likely a point of contention with their family. 2e. There are a bunch of different services and they are usually heinously long. 2f. Shofars are also super important here. 2g. Wearing white is traditional in many communities. 2h. Napping is a popular way to pass the time, especially among less traditionally observant Jews.

*Sukkot (Tishrei 15-22, September-October): The Festival of Booths, basically the Jewish Harvest Festival. 3a. Fairly common to celebrate but not as much as the High Holidays, Passover, or Hannukah. 3b. Celebrated by building a Sukkah, which is an at-least-three-sided TEMPORARY structure with a natural roof (corn, leaves, bamboo) that you can see the stars through. People will eat and sleep in the Sukkah, and go “Sukkah hopping” to visit other families’ Sukkahs. 3c. In addition to regular guests, there is kabbalah and traditional mysticism that the a different guest from Jewish history will join you in the Sukkah each night, known as the Ushpizin. The Ushpizin Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Aaron, Joseph and David) are all male, and in the 20th century some Jews began the custom of honoring Ushpizot (female guests as well, adding Sarah, Miriam, Deborah, Hannah, Abigail, Hulda, and Esther (although some obscure lists of Ushpizot date back to the 15th century). 3d. Your Jewish character may not have a Sukkah. Their temple will have a communal one. 3e. It is customary to shake a lulav and etrog, also known as the four species. Three leaves and a citrus from specific plants are held together and shook in all six directions after the recitation of a prayer. I like to call this shake-the-plant, but it actually has a ton of different spiritual meanings traditionally ascribed to it. There is also a processional in synagogue with the lulav and etrog.

Shmeni Atzeret (Tishrei 22, September-October): In Israel, the one day after Sukkot and in the diaspora the last day of Sukkot and the day after. There are some extra prayers and it marks a seasonal shift in prayers pertaining to rain. Unless your character is particularly religious/observant, they aren’t going to do anything extra. This holiday’s functions were mostly relevant during the Temple Periods in ancient Israel.

*Simchat Torah (Tishrei 23, September-October): Simchat Torah celebrates the restarting of the Torah-reading cycle and overlaps with the second day of Shmeni Atzeret where there is a second day. Unlike in some other faiths where the congregation or leader generally chooses the text of the day, Jewish congregations are bound by the Parsha (portion) of the week for formal services/readings (as opposed to other forms of study). The 54 parshas are read over the course of the Jewish year, and the resetting of that cycle is Simchat Torah. In synagogues during services readings from from Torahs, which are large, heavy, physical scrolls. This is relevant during Simchat Torah particularly. 5a. Two days in the diaspora, one day in Israel. Intermediate level popularity. 5b. Seven hakafot (professionals) are performed by dancing around the synagogue while members alternate carrying the Torah. This is considered an honor. Simchat Torah is usually the only day all the Torahs are brought out (or at least the ones that are in good enough shape to be carried). Dancing is mixed outside of orthodoxy and separated within orthodoxy. Only Jewish adults are permitted to carry the Torah. Outside of orthodoxy this includes both men and women. Within some orthodox congregations, women-only circles will also include Torahs in their dancing. 5c. There are also smaller not-Torah-but-still-Holy scrolls and Torah-shaped-stuffies that children will sometimes carry and dance with. 5d. After the dancing, the final parsha is read aloud. This is the only time we read Torah at night (from the physical object Torah - we read books of the Torah in other forms at any hour). The scroll is then rolled back all the way to the first reading. Reading the first or last reading is a great honor.

*Hanukkah (Kislev 25 - Tevet 2, November-December): Hannukah celebrates the victory of the Maccabees over the political and cultural oppression of the ancient Greeks in the 160s B.C.E. After the victory of the priestly-class-turned-warrior-bros over their oppressors, the Maccabees found the Temple seriously wrecked, both on a physical and spiritual level. They wanted to rededicate the temple, but only found one itty-bitty little jar of oil for the Menorah (seven-branched candelabra in the Temple), enough for one day. They figured it was better than nothing, and immediately sent out for more oil, which took eight days. That was the miracle of the lights, and where the Hanukiyah (eight-branched variant of the Menorah) comes from since the oil for one day lasted eight. 6a. Hanukkah is an immensely popular eight day festival. 6b. Religiously, Hanukkah actually isn’t super important. Religiously-significant practices for the holiday are lighting a Hannukiyah, telling the story of Hanukkah, and eating greasy foods. 6c. There are approximately a shabillion ways to spell Hanukkah, it’s not just you. There are actually only two acceptable (really only one 100%) Hebrew spellings but transliteration is a bitch sometimes. 6d. Although not “Jewish Christmas” gifts on Hanukkah are a thing because of the proximity to Christmas. Hanukkah gifts as they now are are really a 1950s-forward thing because Jewish kids were starting to have Christian friends en-masse who were getting Christmas gifts at the same time a lot of the U.S. was experiencing an economic boom. Purim is actually the traditional gifting holiday. 6e. Related: Hanukkah parties are very popular, but much more cultural than religious. 6f. Dreidels have a weird AF history and their dubious origins (and half-dozen possible theories) truly merit their own post. In the U.S. they are played with chocolate coins or other not-money, elsewhere children frequently use their local equivalent of pennies instead.

Tu Bishvat (Shevat 15, February-March): The Jewish new year/birthday of the trees. Functions like a Jewish Earth day - planting trees is popular. Fresh fruits are consumed in celebration of what trees give us. Some more religious families also do a ceremonial meal, a Tu Bishvat seder, but most Jews don’t.

*Purim (Adar 14, February-March): Purim, an immensely popular holiday celebrates the survival of the Jews during the first exile period in the ancient kingdom of Persia. The text celebrates the strength of our community and the chutzpah of a Jewish woman, and is usually celebrated in practice like Jewish Halloween. 8a. The story really merits its own post, but the short of it is because shenanigans, antisemites, and booze-hound kings a Jewish lady named Hadassah became queen (hiding her Jewish identity and taking the Esther to do so), the king’s head advisor Haman wanted to kill-the-Jews-tm, Esther was able to prevent it by convincing the king that the Jews should be able to fight back, the Jews did so and won, Haman was executed, and Esther’s cousin/bestie Mordechai became the new advisor. [really, the full story is Hollywood-level drama, another post to come.] 8b. Communities gather together to do communal readings of the book of Esther (in Hebrew or the lingua franca), it’s only about 10 chapters and takes an hour or two. The megillah is read once in the night and once in the day. Technically there are several megillahs for different books/holidays, but Jews are usually referring to Megalilat Esther (the book of Esther) when they say the megillah, definitely so on Purim. 8c. Costumes are donned by adults and children alike, both inspired by the story and otherwise. This is in honor of the hiddenness in the story (with both Esther and some other stuff we don’t have time for today). Synagogues often hold costume contests as a small break between chapters. 8d. Readings get ROWDY. It’s customary to boo and make noise using little noisemakers when Haman’s name is said aloud, as with the names of his also Jew-hating sons (which are traditionally said in one breath). There are also certain lines of the megillah read out loud together. 8e. It is a mizvah to give gifts (typically of food) to friends as well as to charity on Purim (two separate mitzvahs). 8f. It’s also a mitzvah to have a big special meal. 8g. It’s a common misconception that it’s a mitzvah to get so lit on Purim you can’t tell the difference between Haman the wicked and Mordechai the blessed. It’s not a Mitzvah, but there is some commentary in the Talmud saying that, so while not a commandment, “get lit to honor the party king goy who vouched for us and also because Jewish history requires drinking sometimes” is a historically-rooted take. Consequently, it’s very popular to drink a lot on Purim. 8h. Purim is, for all of the above, immensely popular with both children and adults despite being dark AF. 8i. Purim is the last holiday in the Torah itself (Hannukah is after). 8j. Purim is a one-day holiday unless you’re in a walled city (long story).

*Passover (Nissan 15-22, March-April): Arguably the most important holiday, theologically. Passover celebrates the Exodus from Egypt. 9a. Families gather for Seders on the first night (Israel) and second night (Diaspora). The holiday is 7/8 days long and one of the most common to celebrate. In normal years it’s common for families to travel to have large gatherings together. 9b. In addition to regular kosher laws, “chametz” (basically leavened bread and bread-like things and most foods that bring joy). There are five grains that can make chametz, wheat, rye, barley, oats, and spelt. Some communities historically forbade other foods that could be mistaken for chametz, like the Ashkenazi forbiddance of kitanyot (legumes, rice, corn, certain seeds), although that was revoked/voted on to be not an official custom by nonorthodox denominations in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. 9c. Seders are ceremonial meals with 15 steps, including the actual meal itself. The quickest Seders run maybe an hour plus the meal. The longest can run upwards of 6-8, depending on the denomination, family, and customs. It almost goes without saying that there’s a lot of food and wine involved. 9d. In addition to be prohibited for consumption, Chametz cannot be possessed or consumed on Passover, so Jews clean out their houses of Chametz, and temporarily sell it to a gentile friend or family member for the duration of the holiday. 9e. Passover-specific hanger is very real, especially after the post-Seder food-coma wears off. Especially if you already have dietary restrictions and can’t just do a meat-fast. 9f. During the Seder, the story of Passover is gradually told from Moses to the plagues to the Exodus itself. It is a fairly interactive telling/ceremony and the specific rituals to different parts of the Seder merit their own post. 9g. Synagogues also hold Seders, but at-home ones are very common. Whose home to go to for the Seder is often a very political choice.

Lag BaOmer (Iyyar 18 for Ashkenazi, Iyyar 19 for Sephardi, May): The counting of the Omer is from the second day of Passover to Shavout. Passover is the leave from Egypt, Shavout is the getting of the Torah, the Omer is the in-between time. There are a bunch of restrictions during the Omer for long-story reasons, but haircuts, shaving, listening to instrumental music, weddings, parties, and dinners with dancing are forbidden during the Omer. Lag BaOmer, the 33rd day of this count, is the exception. 10a. Consequently, for Jews who are abstaining from the aforementioned things, Lag BaOmer is popular to do those things. 10b. Many Jewish schools and synagogues will have counting activities for kids and prizes if they can count all the way to Shavuot on their sticker chart or equivalent. 10c. One day regardless of location. 10d. Bonfires are a super popular activity, usually accompanied by feasts. 10e. Not as popular as some others.

Shavout (Sivan 6, May-June): Shavout celebrates the day Moses came down with the Torah and when the ancient Israelites in the desert formally chose to enter their covenant with God at Mount Sinai. It was also celebrated as an additional harvest festival in ancient times. 11a. Two days in the diaspora, one day in Israel. 11b. The “dairy holiday” because the Jews didn’t have any kosher meat and had just received the laws, including kosher. 12c. The book of Ruth is read on Shavout. There are several possible explanations, but the most popular is that she choose to be Jewish, just as the Jews did at Sinai. 12d. Torah studying all-nighters are traditional. 12e. Not as popular as some other holidays.

Rosh Chodesh (varies, 1st of every Hebrew month): There are 12 Hebrew months, except for leap years which have a second Adar. The first day of each month is known as Rosh Chodesh. It is unlikely your Jewish character does anything for it, unless they’re very religious, work at a synagogue, happen to be at shul anyways for another reason, or go to a Jewish school. If any of those are true, their prayers will have extra prayers (especially on Shabbat or another holiday). 12a. Rosh Chodeshes are traditionally women’s time/a moment set aside to honor women.

Special Shabbats (varies): There are eight special Shabbats scattered around the year right before or after a big holiday. Services are longer and special prayers are added, but unless your character goes to shul or is in another circumstance where they pray consistently, they likely won’t know/care/notice.

Some of these topics are also totally their own posts, but this is a general overview of the most important/common holidays and already super long!

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echoesofthefall · 3 years ago

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Lunar month workings

Planning new workings for the month of Tishrei, starting on September 7th (right after the New Moon). I will be making new prayer beads, consecrating a staff and preparing a vessel for the Old One.

I first have to get more beads because it turns out I don't have the right ones (all of this started this summer when I had a "vision" of black and white prayer beads on a red thread). I will then cleanse and bless them, and assemble the prayer beads with additional blessings.

The staff is a piece of forked wood I found in the Pyrénées, land of Akerbeltz. I already polished it, I simply have to bless it and to coat it with dragonblood and myrrh infused linseed oil, and to "crown" its tail with an iron nail.

The vessel is a roe deer skull I bought. I have to cleanse it of the remaining nefesh, thus making it a proper idol by anointing it with a special oil I made during Walpurgis Night, with the guidance of my Master. For now, the skull sleeps and dreams.

I will be celebrating Rosh HaShana, maybe with some friends, and I will fast and pray on Yom Kippur even though I can't celebrate it the way I wanted to (I won't be home, so I can't go to my synagogue). I don't know yet how Asherah's day will be celebrated, since it falls on the same day as Rosh HaShana.

Sukkot takes place between Tishrei 14th and 21st (September 20th to 27th). I don't know if I will be able to make a regular sized sukkah, but I might make a small one for the Good Neighbours and other Spirits who might want to join.

I will celebrate the Full Moon by taking entheogens and talking with the Spirits. I've been wanting to make mushroom stuffed bread, and it will be both feast and offering on this special day.

September 22nd – Tishrei 16th – is the Fall Equinox, a day I associate with the Fall of the Watchers. I will celebrate it, though I haven't planned exactly how (I'm getting my second vaccine dose this day so I don't really know yet if I will be able to celebrate).

Though I'm no Christian, I will probably be celebrating Michaelmas in my own way. I work with angels, and I never say no to a holiday.

I think that's it for this month. I will also try to observe Shabbat more seriously, as I feel the need to get closer to HaShem even though I'm also getting closer to other entities Modern Judaism doesn't approve.

Image source : Minhagim, Uri Weibash, 1661

#my stuff #planning #tishrei

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meirmakesstuff · 5 years ago

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Chanukah 5780

First night: tiny lights in deep darkness.

On the first night, we had friends over, ate latkes, joked and laughed, and felt the warmth of community. I took the picture once everyone had gone, once the candles had burned down and only the oil lights were still lit.

Description: a large silver menorah is guttering in a darkened room. The shamash is broken, so it sits on the foil beside the menorah. In front of it, a smaller pewter menorah has already burnt out. It has a decorative oil jug hanging from the front. The two lights--the one light for the first night and the shamash--are reflected in the window.

Second night: family.

It was our first Chanukah as a family of three, officially: although he’s been part of our lives for two years, the adoption was only finalized this December. In practical terms, it doesn’t change our daily lives in any way, but it’s both legally and emotionally significant. In name now as well as in practice, we are his parents and he is our son.

Description: The large silver menorah with the broken shamash and the shorter pewter menorah with the decorative jug are lit for the second night of Chanukah. Beside them, a white stone menorah decorated with the wax drips of previous years is also lit. The silver menorah is lit with multicolored oil vials, the pewter menorah is lit with metallic red candles and a metallic red shamash, and the stone menorah is lit with multicolored Tzfat-style candles. The room is well lit and cheerful, and the lights are reflected in the window and in the foil underneath.

Third night: Christmas Eve

Somehow the Christmas leadup was just too much this year. Maybe it’s because the Jewish holidays were late this year, so there was less time for the irritation at those who refuse to look at a Jewish calendar to wear off before they demand that we dedicate two months to acknowledging their calendar. Maybe it’s just the sense of rising danger in being visibly other in America, which has increased again this year as it has every year of the past decade. Maybe it’s the fact that Chanukah fell during break this year, so there wasn’t the usual amount of school festivities.

Description: The silver menorah with the broken shamash and the pewter menorah with the oil jug are lit for the third night, the silver one with multicolored vials of oil and the pewter one with red-and-purple patterned Tzfat-style candles. The picture is taken from an angle that doesn't’ show the reflections of the candles in the window; instead it shows a comfortable plaid living room chair with a big blue cushion.

Fourth night: exhaustion.

We went out with friends for whom getting Chinese food on Christmas is a meaningful tradition. Food and company were great, but on the one day of the week I didn’t have to work at the mall...we got Chinese food at a restaurant in the mall. Eventually we declined to continue back with them to watch Die Hard, went home, lit one menorah without much fanfare, and conked out.

Description: close up on the small pewter menorah lit for the fourth night with alternating pink and blue candles. The silver menorah behind it picks up the gleam, standing out against the dark window.

Fifth night: the radical in the mundane.

I don’t want to write about anti-semitism; my news feed right now is filled up with it, is choking on it. But this week it’s been impossible to talk about being Jewish without mentioning it. I’ve spent so much of my life aware that my identity--first just my Jewish identity but then all the intersectional layers that have piled on throughout my life--is always going to be a mixture of danger and joy. I was always aware that one of the most defiant acts there is is to continue to live authentically, not just in defiance of danger but from simple, genuine love of doing what we do. The famous photo of the menorah in the window through which one sees Nazi flags is important, but so I think is this one, an unremarkable, mediocre-quality picture of a family and their pets in the home we choose to fill with love, not fear.

Description: a poorly-focused picture shows the silver and pewter menorahs lit for the fifth night with oil and candles in a rainbow of colors. The comfy plaid chair is in focus, and Cooper, a large orange and white tabby cat, is standing on the chair looking at the camera. His eyes are opened wide, his ears and whiskers are perked forward, and his tail is raised in greeting. He is more interested in potential human interaction than the candles on the table next to him. In one pane of the window, the reflection of the candles is multiplied, and in the other my wife can be seen sitting on the couch.

Seventh night: motzei shabbat.

The night I didn’t take a picture was Shabbat Chanukah, when we lit the shabbat candles immediately after the Chanukah candles. I wish I could have shown a picture of that: my grandmother’s silver candlesticks are nearly as tall as the silver menorah that towers over our other chanukiot and is sized for larger candles or vials of oil. This year I brought them to school for my students to compare with the more modern examples of shabbat candlesticks available at the synagogue gift shop. The candlesticks weren’t the only meaningful piece my family brought from Germany to America, but I asked the students to imagine why these candlesticks would be among the items someone might choose to bring. Their answers circled around the idea that the candlesticks’ value wasn’t just as items of silver but as emblems of identity. Of course, fourth graders didn’t express it in those words, but the concepts are present for them, as they are for me.

Description: a bright and cheery photo of the silver and pewter menorahs, almost fully lit. The silver menorah with the broken shamash is full of multicolored vials of oil; the pewter menorah is loaded with red and purple candles with a yellow and orange shamash that seems to be leaning to one side.

Eighth night: mazal tov

On the last night of Chanukah we drove to Boston to attend my cousin’s wedding. Getting there was a flurry of preparation: the hotel where the group rate was booked couldn’t provide an accessible room that could accommodate a family of three, so we ended up booking elsewhere; our son didn’t own any formalwear, so we bought him a suit, shirt, and tie, and I had the joyful experience of teaching him to tie it (he wanted a simple knot, but the tie turned out to be too long for a four-in-hand and he came back for lessons in a half-Windsor). We failed to find him matching shoes in time, so he wore the shoes I bought to get married in. They were as uncomfortable for him as they had been for me, but they gave him the motivation to stay at the reception: “If I have to wear these shoes, I’m getting dessert out of it.” The spectacular dessert buffet did not disappoint him. The wedding was both a loving celebration of my cousin and his bride, and a joyful get-together of branches of families that live far apart, lead busy lives, meet rarely (I chatted with people I hadn’t seen in a decade, and in three decades), and are still part of each other’s story.

Description: a fully-lit menorah sits at the center of a small table piled with flowers, set for a bride and groom. The table glows in the foreground; behind it the room is washed in low, orange light; wedding guests are dancing on a crowded dance floor in the background.

#chanukah #hannukah #חנוכה #antisemitism mention #jumblr #menorah #judaica #jewish #judaism #pirsumei nisa #Meir Makes Stuff #Meir Makes Long Posts

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salixj · 6 years ago

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“Please explain, I don’t understand how you are all so happy and singing and dancing when you are here and not at your home. Please can you tell me why?”

It was 18:05, minutes after Shabbat had gone out in Athens, in the Sofitel Hotel in Athens International Airport. The conversation was between me and Sophia, a puzzled but very courteous front desk manager at the hotel. The reason had been havdallah, the culmination of the singing throughout Shabbat tefillot and meals.

I will get to my answer to her…Yet I first want to backtrack.

So much has been written about the LY 002 Shabbat Athens landing, that I was on. Articles have been published, many of them scathing, attacking someone or some entity. Many written out of justified anger, like mine that I wrote on my phone in the airport after Shabbat, when reading what had been posted against us.

I want to tell a different side of this, now that I am – finally – home, having arrived at 3:15 a.m. I am calmer, and able to see the entire incident, understand the passions on all sides, and reflect, and reach a slightly different conclusion.

Firstly, I feel very bad for the crew of stewards and stewardesses, who were just trying to do their job, and had been brought late to the plane waiting in traffic for hours through no fault of their own, but due to a poor decision by their managers not to leave early due to the weather. They were bearing the brunt of the shouts of anger from all sides — religious and irreligious — over a decision that hadn’t been theirs. I told them this as I got off the plane, as I saw their pain and frustration and knew they were not in the wrong and had had a really bad day — I hope I managed to comfort them somehow. Maybe they should have reacted better, but then again none of us is perfect.

I feel bad for the irreligious people, who had to wait a further three hours to get a plane home, and who missed out on the special Shabbat experience that I will never forget.

I feel bad that so many accusations continue to fly as I type this. I still feel El Al was in the wrong, but the airline, too, can make mistakes.

However, the aspect I keep coming back to, aside from the accusations of violence that I really, really hope were not true — if there is one thing we must learn it is that dialogue is the only way to resolve our disputes — is the above conversation.

To recap the situation: some 40 minutes before Shabbat was to come in, a swarm of about 180 religious Jews (maybe a quarter of whom would be classified as “Haredi”), most of us talking on the phone or texting with our families in Israel or the USA, descended on the Athens hotel. Clutching our hand luggage, and for many of us a portion of the meal we had been served earlier, saved in case we had no food for Shabbat (I saved my omelet and roll; they were never eaten), and stealing glances at our watches as Shabbat crept ever closer, we were led into the lobby. The hotel and El Al representatives calmed us down by explaining that meals were taken care of, and that we should pair up in s twos or threes for rooms, and that we had nothing to worry about. There was not enough room for all of us, so approximately 30 people were taken to another hotel.

We found partners (mine were nice, though both snored), formed lines, received our keycards, and exchanged ideas on how to avoid using them on Shabbat (electronics are a problem for those who observe Shabbat). I am a seasoned traveler, who has guided on numerous occasions for Ramah Israel in Poland, Prague, and Morocco, as well as having been in many a US hotel room for Shabbat, and shared my personal favorites: tape over or put toilet paper in the tab that the latch of the door fits into, or put a towel over the door, and make sure your valuables are in the safe.

Not that many of us had much to put there: I am sure you have heard the oft-used expression, especially before Shabbat, “I have literally nothing to wear”? This time, it was true – all I had were the clothes on my back, some food, and my tallit and tefillin – all the rest of my emergency clothes that I always take with me in case of such a situation had been checked in when the nice operator at the El Al counter in JFK offered to check my rolling hand luggage for free. Kicking myself for doing that, I sprinted back to the airport and found a store selling white Athens souvenir t-shirts, and socks with for some unknown reason, San Francisco emblazoned on them. Once the t-shirt was turned inside out, I had my Shabbat shirt.

Thus bedecked in splendor, I went to Kabbalat Shabbat, missing my family, and with some trepidation over the upcoming Shabbat.

Most of my new comrades were similarly dressed. The lifelike statue at the top of the stairs, that seemed to be a distortion of Michelangelo’s David (made from fake granite, facing the other way and with hand outstretched, but still totally nude), that many were avoiding looking at, seemed to reinforce my fears that this was going to be a strange Shabbat.

Yet, it was strange, but in a wonderful, marvelous, unifying spiritual manner. One of my new friends, Ben Chafetz, wrote a beautiful piece describing Shabbat that I encourage you to read. It was truly remarkable what Chabad in Athens had done at the last minute, in terms of warm hospitality, abundance of food, a Sefer Torah, and other logistical preparations – many of us gave a donation after Shabbat for a mikveh that doesn’t exist there by way of thanking them. Equally remarkable was the hotel staff and management, who went out of their way to help us. Despite my criticism of El Al in my first piece on this that I stand by, they did their best to provide for us once the decisions had been made and the mistakes by others left in the past, and that is worthy of praise as well.

Everyone there had their own sob story of what they were missing in Israel – I hadn’t seen my wife and kids in two weeks, but there were worse stories: a few bar mitzvahs that people were missing, an aufruf, the family gathering at a yahrtzeit, and sadly, one woman who told me that the body of her mother had been in the belly of flight LY002, on its way to burial in Israel, and she had no idea what had happened with it over Shabbat. Perspective can be a wonderful thing.

Yet: we all breathed deeply and let Shabbat work its magic. The most remarkable thing was the atmosphere, that 150 Jews from all walks of life, wearing the strangest Shabbat outfits and bringing a vast plethora of Shabbat traditions to the shul and table, created, without a decision-making process on behalf of anyone.

The Kiddush Hashem was awesome — singing in the different accents, dancing with strangers, divrei torah and shiurim — the atmosphere we created together was one of Simchat Shabbat. The heat-warming breaking down of any barriers due to the circumstances was invigorating, caused many unexpected friendships, and broke stereotypes for us all that hopefully will not be rebuilt. Seeing all these Jews who would probably never have said anything to each other simply because of what the other was wearing, in conversations around tables or in the lobby, was inspiring. How beautifully ironic that none of this atmosphere was captured to show, because all those creating it were religious and could not use cameras or phones.

There is a saying: You don’t control the situations you are in, but you do control how you react to them” – and that was demonstrated perfectly. None of us chose to be there, yet we made the best of the situation, and kept a Shabbat that none of us will ever forget.

In the afternoon I went for a walk — sadly the airport is too far from the real sites, so that will have to wait for the next time I am there — ending up on the top floor of the airport where there is a small, free museum that I highly recommend if you are ever there — a collection of what had been found while building the airport. Similar to Israel, Greece has a vast amount of archaeology and immense finds in every nook and cranny, and it was very special looking at coins and pottery made in the second century BCE — as in, exactly the Chanukah time period. I even found myself getting emotional when I realized that here was an Israeli, a tour guide who teaches about Jewish values — then and now, stuck in Greece because he insisted on keeping Shabbat, looking at coins minted during the time that the Ancient Greeks tried to crush Ancient Israel for the “crime” of doing exactly that, and in a few days will be celebrating that holiday back in Israel.

One of the divrei Torah that was given in the shul was a thought I have given many times myself to students. Briefly, the parshat hashavua (Torah portion) we read — Vayetzei — has in it the verse where our Matriarch Leah named her fourth son Judah, meaning “I will thank G-d”; the root “odeh” being the same as “todah,” meaning thanks. If you follow that thought, our name, Jews, means thank you. That, too was a key element of Shabbat — thanking everyone who had made it.

So: after Havdallah, I made it my business to thank every one of the hotel workers that I saw, as did many of us. As I was doing that, Sophia, the desk manager, asked me in her broken English, what I wrote above:

“Please explain, I don’t understand how you are all so happy and singing and dancing when you are here and not at your home. Please can you tell me why?”

The conversation is too long to write in full, but I explained to her what Shabbat was, and told her a bit about the rituals and theology, answered her follow up questions, quoted to her Asher Ginsburg’s famous saying, “More than the Jewish people have kept the Shabbat, the Shabbat has kept the Jewish people,” and she was nodding politely, but clearly not getting it.

So I added one more thought, that I think she liked, and it is a thought that I am taking with me as this saga continues to swirl: Shabbat is, amongst other values, about Kehilla, community, togetherness, about taking time to be with one’s family and friends, and about creating and strengthening community. (As was put to me by my new friend Mitch – who lives 5 minutes from me, but whom I had to come to Athens to meet — Shabbat is the time for shmoozing, so let’s schmooze!)

This week, I told Sophia, you saw a new Jewish community create itself under conditions that were beyond its control to alter, but were within its control to use and benefit from. The singing and dancing came from that yearning to strengthen our bonds to our belief and our community, in the same way that Shabbat has done for so many centuries in other conditions. I have made many friends that I hope I will stay in touch with, and hopefully allowed one desk manager named Sophia to get an inkling into Shabbat in Judaism.

One final thought. Community, like family, is close enough that arguments and disagreements are inevitable from time to time — that is the nature of the beast. Our task, like in the conversation over our flight, is to combat that inclination to let our arguing overtake us and the poison continue to flow, and to end the arguing by listening to the other and understanding them.

I, for one, am done with blame. We were in Athens for a reason, I will always remember that Shabbat, and life is now continuing.

#Israel #Shabbat #Athens #Chabad

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yesdavidmark · 6 years ago

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How to Talk to Orthodox Jewish Girls at a Melave Malka

by David Hartley Mark

(A Parody of Neil Gaiman’s “How to Talk to Girls at Parties”)

“Come ON,” said Mutty, to me,“It’ll be great.”

“For you, maybe,” I said. I had wanted to hit Talmud Masechet-Tractate Kiddushin that evening; I had a Bechinah (Talmud Exam) on Monday. Rav Frozbee was a tough rebbe, everyone said; still, I had tackled the tractate over the summer in the Special Make-Up Class, after failing Rav Magid. I had to impress my rebbe.

And now, Mutty was making me nuts. “C’mon, c’mon,” he urged, “Isn’t it about time to met a new girl to replace that—?”

“Cheryl,” I said, patiently, “Her name was Cheryl.”

“Right,” Mutty grinned, “She never let you get to first base.”

“Are you kidding?” I answered, “No bases whatsoever were involved.”

“So we’ll go,” said Mutty, “It’s an easy walk from here. Congregation Rodef Kesef is having a Melave Malka—the shul is thirteen years old, and they’re giving it a Bar Mitzvah celebration. Clever, huh?”

My mind had already strayed to the portion that I knew, for sure, Frozbee would have on the test: “Could a man acquire—that is, marry—a woman with a loaf of bread?” This was a major act of chutzpah on the man’s part, and the woman had every right to be insulted.

“Give it to that dog,” the woman replied angrily (P. 8b), and the Rabbis rule that she is not betrothed. But if she specified that the man give the bread to a particular dog—that is, her dog—she is, indeed betrothed. I just had to check Rashi and the Ba’alei HaTosafote on that portion, and I’d be all set.

Meanwhile, my half-starved body was sending its unmistakeable signals to my brain: What kind of bread was it? Was it necessary for the woman to make HaMotsee on behalf of the dog?

“And if the dog was chasing the woman, and she implored the man, ‘Give the bread to the dog,’ because she was in mortal danger of being bitten, she is not betrothed to him, because he was required by Torah law to save her.”

“The shul is just around this corner, on Stanton Street,” said Mutty, rubbing his hands.

But I knew what would happen next. Mutty would pair off with some long-sleeved, long-hemmed houri, and leave me with her ugly friend. This had happened before. He would come up to me at a simcha event, and say, “There are two of them,” and I knew for sure which one I was getting. That was why I didn’t want to go....

I was really wondering about the woman, the dog, and the bread.

Mutty pushed open the big wooden door, and we entered a temple that, I believe, had been built in 1904—I quickly translated the Hebrew date on the cornerstone. The shul was dim inside, and smelled of herring, snuff, and old prayer books. But the basement was well-lit, and Mutty headed for it, like a moth to a flame.

“There it is, Shimon,” he said, “Action Central!”

Action Let Down, more like, I thought, but I owed Mutty for learning with me that past week. He was a whiz at Talmud, and had rescued my hide from failing on more than one occasion. So I owed him one.

We crept down the squeaky steps, which groaned at our every move, as if shedim-demons were living underneath. Emerging into the basement Social Hall, it took a while for our eyes to adjust to the light—the fluorescents were flickering, and someone had lit candles on every table, honest to God. It felt like the 19th Century.

A bunch of old men were sitting at one bare-topped table, which held plates of arbess, garbanzos, and water-challah loaves, which they reached out and tore pieces off—not the most hygienic practice, I believed.

From the Men’s Side, we could see the Women’s—there was no mechitzah-division between the men and women, but, clearly, we were not permitted to go there. The only thing we could hope for was if a girl or two got up to loiter in the corridor—or one of the empty classrooms. The shul had had a Hebrew School long ago, and nothing remained but the rooms—I could see from the Social Hall that they were empty.

At the front table sat the rebbe—he wore a kapote and shtreimel, a long, black coat and ornamental fur hat. He was the most enthusiastic of the bunch, and banged loudly on the table while singing “Am Yisroel Chai”—“The People of Israel Live.” He banged and sang and sang and banged, and sipped gently from a small shot glass of schnapps-whiskey that stood nearby. It looked like Four Smugglers—the cheapest rotgut you could purchase, but it got the job done.

“Look over there!” whispered Mutty to me, “Two girls leaving the room, at three o’clock. Time to make our move.”

“They’re probably going to the Ladies’ Room,” I whispered back.

“No—nope, they’re going into one of those old classrooms!” he cried with glee, and, grabbing my arm, yanked and propelled me across the floor.

I had to follow—what could I do? Even though part of me yearned to tackle that dog-bread-woman-betrothal section of Tractate Kiddushin.

Mutty pulled me into the dim classroom. The only light was from the flickering lights outside, and the candlelight gave the place a sort of spiritually gloomy atmosphere.

The girls sat at two old desks. They did not look up as we entered. Their lips were moving.

“Mutty, forget about it,” I whispered, “they’re obviously davening. We can’t interrupt their kavanah-devotion.”

“So we wait,” he said decisively, and I had no choice. Mutty was my chavrusah, my study-partner, and I needed him for that test. Maybe I could convince him to come study tomorrow, Sunday—?

The girls looked up. It was as if they saw us for the first time.

“Uh—hi, Ladies,” stammered Mutty. For all his bravado, he was no Lothario with the ladies.

“One can be betrothed with a loaf of bread,” said the blonde—she had ringlets that covered her head and fell softly down her back, “but she may ask the man who desires her to give it to a poor person.”

“There is also the case of a dog,” said the other. She was brunette, and wore her hair cut short. “If the woman tosses the loaf to a dog to save her life, she is not obligated to marry the man.”

How did these girls know the Gemara I had been studying? I glanced meaningfully at Mutty, but he didn’t look at me back—he was too busy thinking of something clever to say.

“What Girl’s Yeshiva do you attend?” he asked, “Ludomir? Central? Queens?”

“We are here to imbibe of your air and water,” said the brunette, “and return when it is time.”

“Time for what?” asked Mutty, but the girl was silent.

A few seconds passed. I was beginning to feel foolish: these girls were weird.

“You must be patient,” said the blonde, “for we were formed to enter the Maelstrom, and we both survived.”

The brunette nodded. “And after, we dove into the rays of the Blinking Star—the one with a tail that speeds through the Universe. How I long to do that, again!”

The blonde smiled at her. “And to listen to the harpists of Alpha Centauri, and dance while they played!”

“Um—what year are you girls in?” asked Mutty, but they ignored him.

“We are sent,” said the brunette, choosing her words carefully, “to smell the odors of the elderly structures, and to observe the elders of your world. Our world has no age, no time, no place.”

“We could go for a walk,” said Mutty, “I could show you girls the East River. It’s wonderful, how it glows in the moonlight.”

I had never heard Mutty speak this way before. Was he trying to impress them?

Both girls looked at him. “I do not know the water-body of which you speak,” said the brunette. She shook her head, and stared at Mutty.

“We can leave now,” said Mutty, “and I promise to bring you both back to your homes, afterwards.”

“Our home is megalights away,” said the blonde, with a note of sadness in her voice, “and we cannot leave until the All-Master declares our mission over.”

Is that God? I wondered, Are they speaking about God? Who are these two, anyway?

“We should leave now,” said Mutty, “The Melave Malka is winding down, anyway.” He approached the girls, pushing away the dusty cobwebs that festooned the classroom.

The girls looked at each other. “We are not to violate the laws of negiah—touching another species,” said the brunette.

“Hey, no problem,” said Mutty, “We can just walk together.”

“And if the All-Master should summon us to the Moonbeams of Saturn,” said the brunette, “we will do what we can to please Him. He is the one who gave us life—but we were created imperfectly, and so were sent to this lesser planet.”

“You look OK to me,” said Mutty, “Don’t they, Shimon? C’mon, let’s go now.”

“Um—Mutty, you better count me out,” I said. I really needed to go home and tackle that piece of Gemara before Monday. “Can you come over tomorrow, and learn with me?” I asked.

Mutty gave me a sharp look. “I will do it for the mitzvah-commandment,” he said in a voice of quiet anger. I could tell he was upset because of my deserting him. “We could have all four of us taken a walk to the River, but you’re bailing on me. Thanks a LOT, Shim. Thanks a lot.”

The girls smoothed their dresses and rose.

“The All-Master wishes for us to accompany this young human,” said the blonde, and the brunette nodded.

“In thusly manner will we learn more about this lesser world of worlds,” said the brunette.

“Just come this way,” said Mutty, holding the door of the shul open in a grandiose manner. The two girls smiled slightly—very slightly—and passed him by.

“It’s a really nice river,” said Mutty, following them—they appeared to glide over the sidewalk, not quite walk on it. I can’t be sure of that, because their dresses were so long. They turned and looked at the two of us, and there was something about their eyes—the color? The intensity of their stare?—that disturbed me, so that I slowed my steps. Mutty looked back at me, with an annoyed look on his face.

“Ah Gute Voch, Shimon,” he said, “A Good Week to you, now that Shabbat is over.”

“Shabbat on Andromeda is a fulfilling phase of our beings,” said the blonde, “and it is tragic when it ends.”

The brunette nodded. “But there is always Shabbat, somewhere in the alphaverse,” she smiled at her friend.

A slight New York City breeze blew, chilling the sweat on my overheated, nervous brow. The girls’ hair did not move in the wind.

“Just make a right here,” said Mutty, and that was the last I ever saw of him. A blinding flash—did it come from the girls’ eyes?—caught me off guard in the dark Saturday night surroundings, and I was flung to the ground, tearing my slacks and bloodying my knee.

When I looked up, the three of them—the two girls—were they truly girls?—and my old friend, Mutty, were gone. Vanished. I never saw him again.

It took two weeks for my knee-wound to heal. When it did, the scar had the shape of a girl’s head.

And that is why I spend my Saturday evenings, after Shabbat, learning and learning.

Perhaps I’ll see Mutty again, someday. Or not.

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fatcatsarecats · 6 years ago

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It’s been a hectic week for Erik, with late nights and tight deadlines causing Erik to come home more exhausted than the day before. With Edie and Jakob out of town, Charles decides to start early with Shabbat meal preparations so that Erik has more time to rest after he comes home from work. He goes grocery shopping. He calls a friend for help, and he sets out on surprising Erik on something that will hopefully soften his cranky boyfriend.

If everything goes to plan, that is.

Which, unfortunately, isn’t the case. Charles can feel alarm in Erik’s mind long before he could hear footsteps bounding through their flat. He hastily covers what’s left of his sad, tragic plan with a doily—the first thing he could see—so that it could be dealt with later.

“Charles?”

People would think Charles was the metal bender with how fast he manoeuvres his chair through the kitchen.

“Erik!” Charles plasters on his best smile and blocks the doorway. “You’re home early.”

Erik sniffs around. “Everything all right? Something smells like its burning in here.”

“Absolutely fine,” Charles says, nudging Erik by the waist. “Just encountered a slight mishap, but I have everything under control so you should go and take a shower. Everything will be sorted by the time you finish.”

Frowning, Erik peers around Charles. Suspicion and curiosity curls in his mind. “Why?” Erik asks. “Did you break a pot again?”

“No,” Charles denies. “Nothing of the like.”

This time, Charles thinks to himself.

“Hmm,” Erik says, narrowing his eyes. “You’re acting suspicious.”

“Am I?” Charles asks. “I’m just happy to see you.”

“Very suspicious,” Erik says. “Although, it’s alright if the challah cover has been misplaced. We still have tonight to find it.”

With that, Erik slips around Charles’ chair—damn his ridiculously narrow waist—and walks over to the doily.

Charles swivels around. “Erik—”

“Really Charles,” Erik says, flipping the doily over. “I can see that you’re making challah and you are such a perfectionist at times. There’s no shame if it didn’t come out the way you want—”

Erik pauses. On the table two the product of Charles’ wholehearted enthusiasm and severely misguided handling of the oven; two challah, braids cracked and blackened, it’s top face resembling the face of a tyre more so than the bread Charles was hoping it would be.

Erik’s expression shutters off and his mind dims until it becomes unreadable. The muscles on Erik’s face twitches, and he brings both hands together.

There’s a moment of silence as Charles flushes increasingly redder as seconds tick by.

“I can see that today has been a long day for the both of us,” Erik says sombrely.

Charles folds his arms together. “I made a mistake.”

“This explains why Theresa invited us over for tomorrow,” Erik says.

“She did?” Charles asks, utterly betrayed. “Consider this the last time I ask Theresa for advice. Period.”

“Charles,” Erik says, and this time, his voice breaks. “I just don’t understand… How did you…”

This time, Erik’s shoulders starts shaking uncontrollably, and Erik has to sit down on the nearest chair. Charles sighs and rolls himself closer to—well, he doesn’t know—to poke at the bread, maybe.

“I don’t know what went wrong,” Charles says, a little sullen. “Everything was going to plan before Theresa got called away. I followed all the instruction and it always turns out great when I make it with Edie. It just decided not to behave today.”

Erik scoots himself closer, throws his arms around Charles’ shoulder and buries his face behind Charles ear, breathing deeply to control his shaking.

Once he’s got a control of himself, Erik rubs a small circle on Charles’ back. “It happens,” Erik says. “I’ve always known your cooking skills proved…how much of an amazing researcher you are.”

“Erik.”

“Your hair smells like smoke.”

“Erik.”

“You know,” Erik says, “when you separate challah, you’re only supposed to burn a small piece of the dough, not the whole bread.”

Charles couldn’t separate the dough anyway, because he’s not Jewish so he couldn’t bless it and burn it. Erik is only being silly and mean.

“Bloody oven,” Charles mutters under his breath.

And that’s it, that sends Erik into a laughing fit that he tries to muffle by burying his face into Charles’ hair.

Erik has impeccable timing. Out of all the days in the past week, he comes home early the moment Charles takes the bread out of the oven and falls straight into despair.

If anything, Charles thinks ruefully while glaring at the oven, at least Charles’ bumbling attempts at cooking made Erik smile.

As Erik laughs at Charles’ suffering, his mind unfurls and a wave of affection crashes over Charles. Slowly, Erik says, I love you, and every word rings heavy with layers of sincerity, disbelief, awe, and devotion. He kisses the side of Charles’ neck before nuzzling back in, and Charles finds himself thawing, leaning closer into Erik.

“Love you too,” Charles murmurs, a little grudgingly.

Feeling quite generous and graceful, Charles decidedly ignores the list of people Erik is compiling in his head—starting with Raven and Edie, going all the way to Tony Stark—that would howl with laughter at what Erik and Charles now dubs, ‘The Challah Incident.’

#charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #cherik #writing #charles is a mercurial chef #...in a lab setting

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boogiewrites · 6 years ago

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Choking On Sapphires 19

Title & Song: Show Me

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 1800+

Summary: Genevieve is a force to be reckoned with. An intelligent, independent and brutal businesswoman. She’s been intrigued by Alfie since she met him. But where will she draw the line between business and pleasure now that they are working so closely together? The way Alfie chooses to celebrate a personal milestone catches Gen off guard.

Warnings/Tags: Language. Fluff.

A/N: Every chapter of this story will have a song to work as the title and as a soundtrack. Chapter song is Show Me by Dan Auerbach.

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes and comments feed this artist to write more!

My Masterlist. (Includes Parts 1-18)

Your yawn and very noisy stretch are interrupted by a newspaper hitting you as it's tossed onto the table next to you.

"You see this?" Alfie asks with a strange urgency, sitting in the chair next to you, tapping one pointed finger, large bauble atop it, at an article you were already familiar with in the Business and Agricultural section of the paper.

You settle your hands back in your lap, nodding at him slowly with sleepy eyes. "Mmm Hmm." you say with a bird-like melodic delivery, a pleasant expression on your face. The medicine you'd been given by the doctor had left you sleeping your life away like a cat. Much like an actual kitten, lying about and looking fuzzy and delicate just the same with your unkempt hair and loose dresses.

"How long have you known?" he exclaims, his hand motioning at you with an attitude.

"I had assumed as much after I persuaded my biggest competitor to sell me their business." you look over at him, shoulders slumped and face slightly dazed from sleep and medication.

"This isn't something you'd think to share?" his chin drops, inquiring with words and the look in his eyes.

You shrug, your mouth in a thoughtful pouted pose. "I suppose...since I did the work it didn't feel like a big deal. My day to day hasn't changed drastically since." you shrug. "It's easy to fall back and forget such things when you're under the influence of heavy medication," you say with a slight shake of your head in elaboration. "Didn't want to go braggin' anyway. I saw the article came out but I've been down so I haven't been up for celebrating in my usual manner." you explain, face back to warm and easy going as it swings back his way.

"Number one producer and seller in all of fuckin' London is something you can brag about dear. Especially to me. I mea I'm fuckin' impressed." he admits, his hands moving at you in praise. As he speaks, a smile slowly grows across your face.

"You are?" your face shifts into a bashful expression he's not seen before. The reactionary and less thoughtful Gen was becoming something he's very aware that he'll miss once you healed up and you weren't a kitten version of your usual jungle cat form. Even if the medicine had made you so out of it he'd seen you walk straight into a door frame, then later into a bust in the hallway and apologizing to both after the fact, looking adorably confused and bewildered before he'd contained his laughter to swoop in and help you.

"Of course I am! Aren't you?" he almost shouts, a warm smile on his face, eyes wide and brows raised at you as his faces leaned closer to yours with an expression of genuine care for your thoughts on the subject.

You look down as a smile hits your lips. It spreads and you look back over, biting your lip before admitting with a drawn-out "Yeah."

"'Course you are. You should be, sweetheart." he holds your chin gently as he speaks purposely at you. "Shame you're hurt," he says, chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment in thought before his eyes return to you. He retreats his hand. You're doe-eyed and still, sitting, slouched and soft in your big plush chair. "Since this calls for a celebration 'n all," he says with his grumpy thinking face. "Can't smoke cigars. Don't want ya coughin' and breakin' in half, do we?" he muses, his hand patting yours.

"If I'm still on top once I'm healed, perhaps?" you suggest with a slow chuckle, your eyes blinking slowly as the sweet smile of your pride lingered on your lips.

"I'll figure somefin' out." he nods, looking around the room.

"You don't have to Alf." you say, your nose scrunched, head shaking subtly at his fussing.

"I know I don't gotta but I wanna, so I'm gonna. Yeah?" he says definitively with a playful nod and expression.

"Sounds like you." you say with an almost dumb laugh that moves your chest when you raise your shoulders to accompany a teasing, cheesy smile. ----------------------------- Alfie has been gone for over a week. Thankfully for both of you, he returns in time for the weeks Shabbat and you get to spend the entire evening catching up. He set bottles of wine down on the dinner table when he'd rolled in to join everyone.

"Lad at the counter thought I was mad for ordering nothin' but lavender." he explains, shaking his head as the familiar brown paper crinkles under your hands and the smell hits your nose and you let out a small moan at the olfactory triggered memories. "But you talk about that French lavender from ya home being so much better than ours here and well, I just had to bring you home some, dinnit I?" his head is tilted, his most dashing, charming expression leaned in close to your reluctantly impressed one.

You kiss his cheek and he seems thoroughly pleased with himself from the grin he's directing at you. "Thank you, Alfie." you go back to a pleasant closed mouth smile. "They're perfect, ya big sweetie." you softly sigh as you hold the bouquet like a baby.

You saw him tucked away with Aggie in the scullery, giving her a bottle of some alcohol she couldn't find around here and a small book. She practically swooned and kissed his cheek, patting his face and you knew you wouldn't hear the end of what a wonderful husband and provider Alfie would make for at least the next week.

Now you're sitting on his bed in his room, discussing the pleasure side of his trip, as he seems like he felt a bit chatty about it. Maybe it was the combination of wine and tiredness. He's asked you if you'd had the meals he'd had on his trip before and if you'd seen a particular type of flower he'd seen because they were "bloody everywhere" as he exclaimed. As you yawn, he clasps his hands together and turns to a trunk and brings out a box.

"I got ya somefing." he announces, his head dipping as he approached you to sit next to you on the bed.

You don't respond, you just face him with a very endearing smile.

"I happened to be in a jewelry shop, yeah?" he side-eyes you with a cheeky grin as he sees you bite the bait he's set with vigor. "I know you weren't up for celebratin' but I saw this and knew it were put in my path so it'd find it's way to you, eh?" he beams at you, the charm coming from his genuine enthusiasm instead of wolfish smiles.

You barely suppress your excitement and it doesn't go unnoticed by him. You place the box in your lap and bite your lip in anticipation as you lift the lid of the black silk covered box. Inside sits a necklace. A delicate gold linked chain, holding a gemstone encrusted bee. "Alfie..." you say breathlessly, your mouth open and your hand to your chest, not being capable of hiding the lust in your wide eyes. The body and legs made of a gold, textured and painted with shimmer that caught the light in small starbursts. A striped thorax sits underneath diamond encrusted, delicate wire wings, it's head tipped in large faceted emerald eyes. "Are you fucking serious?" you inquire with an open mouth, not looking at him.

"I saw it and I knew it was meant to be yours. The timing couldn't of better, yeah?" he pulls the lid back so he can see the piece more clearly. "Couldn't leave without it, could I?" his face beaming down at you, still wide-eyed over the gift.

"This is..." you sigh out in a huff. "It's perfect." you place the pendant in your palm and whine at the heaviness of it. How expensive was this thing? Did he steal it? Did it matter? "It's more than a necklace, it's a work of art." you practically moan. "I know gifts can act as proposals in your religion," you dip your voice and layer it in tease as you smile suggestively at him. "Are you trying to seduce me with this?" you accuse with a smirk, lifting your eyes to his.

"'Course not, Genevieve." he says with an exaggerated head shake and frowns with an animated insistence. "The thought has not crossed my mind," he says with a dismissive hand gesture that moves to his chin, drawing your attention to his now mischievous grin. "Not no more than five, ten times." he adds in a smug tone.

Your expression shifts to match his mischievousness. "Clever, cheeky, charmer, you." you say scrunching your nose at him in a laugh. "I thought the number of times would be much higher, honestly." you tease, looking back at the bee, distraction appears in your eyes again quickly.

"I've wondered what this looks like on you for a week now, c'mon." he says with a chuckle, taking it from you and standing. You move to the mirror on a vanity in his room. He stands out of frame after clasping the necklace shut for you, his arms across his chest, one hand rubbing his beard. "I'm so good at what I do I amaze even myself." he says with a nod of pride.

"It's bloody brilliant." you say, your posture correct, your fingers delicately dragging across your chest and shoulders as you look at the piece.

"It was made for ya, sweetheart." he insists with a shake of his head.

"I have to plan an outfit around this." you state with laid-back enthusiasm, holding up parts of your hair, already planning hairstyles. "Fuck me, now I have to go to these posh business events and show it off, don't I?" you say it like it's a bad thing but you have a cheeky smile on your face. "I have a portrait painting coming up soon I might just wear this." you say, leaning back, impressed by your own idea. "Ohhh." you express your enjoyment of the idea. "That would look so good in my office." you state with hunger in your words. You swing your face towards Alfie, who is biting the tip of his thumb at you. "Chime in anytime, Solomons." you laugh and rest your hands on your waist in a pose.

"I'm happy that you're happy with it Genevieve." he says with a dashing expression. "You look a proper titled Lady now, don't ya? Well suited since ya runnin' London and all now, eh?" he gives you a wink, his hands rubbing your arms as his face nears your shoulder. You roll your eyes at the playful suggestion. "It couldn't look better on anyone else." he voice border lining sweet and predatory, his taller form framing yours in the mirror as you bask in the high of expensive gifts and personal attention as he took in the sight of you. The look in his eyes holds the same fondness that yours did for the image reflected in the mirror. Your gazes meet abruptly, causing an unexpected connection in the tension filled moments. Neither of you prove brave enough to hold the stare for very long.

Pt 20 No You Girls

Tags! Let me know if you’d like to be added or dropped! Thanks!

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464 @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle@negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @wtf-is-wrong-with-this

#ChokingOnSapphires #Alfie Solomons #boogiewrites #Peaky Blinders #Alfie Solomons x OFC #Alfie Solomons x Reader #Alfie Solomons x reader fluff #alfie solomons x ofc fluff #alfie solomons fluff #Alfie Solomons Fanfic #alfie solomons fan fiction #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons fan fic #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders au #alfie solomons au #alfie solomons slow burn #alfie solomons smut #peaky blinders fan fiction

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ronniefein · 3 years ago

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Chicken Cacciatore

I recently read a book about four women who entered a cooking contest in World War II England. One of the contestants had met an Italian POW who told her about Italian cuisine (virtually unknown in England at the time) and taught her how to make chicken cacciatore.

The book was just okay but the recipes were fascinating, what with dealing with rationed food and all sorts of shortages. One woman used whale meat for her entree; the contestant who planned to make chicken cacciatore actually used rabbit.

In addition, I realized that it had been years, maybe more than a decade, since I cooked chicken cacciatore.

I got out my old recipe, and, like the wartime home cooks who learned to be flexible because ingredients were difficult to get, I made a few changes based on what I had at hand. I only had grape tomatoes; had fresh parsley but not fresh basil or oregano. I was minus a bell pepper (which we don’t love anyway), and whereas my original recipe called for red wine, I had a bottle of white open, so I used that instead.

The result was a complete success.

Here is the recipe with flexible ingredient options. Might be a nice change of pace for Shabbat chicken.

CHICKEN CACCIATORE

1 broiler-fryer chicken cut into 8 pieces (or use 4 large breasts or whole legs)

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

2 cloves garlic, chopped

8 ounces fresh mushrooms, cut into bite size pieces

3 cups halved cherry or grape tomatoes (or use 4-5 plum tomatoes, chopped)

1 small bell pepper, seeded and chopped, optional

1/2 cup wine (red or white)

1/2 cup chicken or vegetable stock

1/4 cup chopped fresh herbs: parsley, oregano, basil (or use 2 tablespoons chopped parsley plus 1 teaspoon each of dried oregano and basil)

cooked pasta, rice or polenta

Coat the chicken pieces with some flour and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Heat the olive oil in a large saute pan. Cook the chicken pieces a few at a time for 5-6 minutes, turning them occasionally, until they are lightly crispy. Remove the chicken pieces and set aside. Add the remaining olive oil to the pan. Add the onions and cook for 2-3 minutes. Add the garlic, mushrooms, tomatoes and bell pepper, if used, and cook for 5-6 minutes until the vegetables are slightly softened. Pour in the wine and stock. Add the herbs. Cover the pan, lower the heat and simmer the ingredients for 25-30 minutes or until the chicken is tender and cooked through. Serve on top of cooked pasta, rice or polenta.

Makes 4-6 servings

#chicken cacciatore #braised chicken #braised chicken with tomatoes and mushrooms #shabbat chicken #braising #chicken

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ayellowbirds · 7 years ago

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Whoops! I forgot to go ahead and post part 17! Part 18 may go up later tonight, including a bit of the writing from today... I didn’t quite get to a good stopping point, yet!

Like how things are going? You can help support this project:

Keeping your eye on the Cypora’s Guide to Cementing Your Rule as an Evil Queen tag on my blog.

Look back at the tag for the original story, here; the posts from last year of the original, un-edited draft of the story can be found about halfway down this page.

Tell me about your favorite characters from the story—or draw them, if you like! You can find visual references in the art tag, or look at the stuff that inspires me, visually, in the inspiration tag.

Make a one-time donation via Paypal…

…or by Ko-Fi, if you prefer!

Got any questions about Cypora’s Guide, the characters, or the setting? Feel free to send them to me!

Here’s part 16 if you missed it, or need to catch up. This one might be a bit short, as we return to Alícha’s party:

The 28th of Lumeary, 5647 CC

Shabbat continued after waking; Pheribee seemed to take a bit of pleasure in serving coffee—which Lucky could not drink, meaning she usually did not have an excuse to make any—and doughnuts. While stirring some milk into her cup, Alícha considered the platter, and picked out the one that seemed to have the most powdered sugar laden upon it. She dunked as much as possible into her own coffee, and let it soak. The sugar would make the coffee palatable, and the bitterness of the coffee would cut the sweetness of the doughnut.

Broke gladly took to the doughnuts, while Lodemia started with her coffee, appreciating the heat of it. Tavi held both, and did not start to eat, but stared at Broke.

“I’ve been wondering,” she asked zir, “Why do you need to eat?”

“Why do you?” Broke replied, though it sounded more like, “mruf boo moo?”

“I mean, if you’re a zombie, you don’t need to eat to survive, right?” Tavi elaborated, blushing and focusing on her doughnut, dusting off some sugar before dipping it briefly in her coffee.

“Nu, I mean,” Broke said, before gulping down the mouthful or two ze had been chewing at, “technically, yeah? But I still feel pain, such as including the pain of starving, which I come to understand is not the least kind of severe pains to experience.”

Ze drank down half a mug of coffee without adding any milk or sugar. The bitter drink had still been steaming hot.

“But everything’s also, if you pardon the wordplay,” ze said after letting out a sigh, “a bit deadened. So sweet has to be sweeter, hot has to be the hottest, and this might just be me making such as an excuse for my own predilections, but a meal ain’t filling unless you’re stuffed.”

Lucky happened to awaken and enter the kitchen to breakfast with them, and plodded up to his seat by the table. It was the kind of chair often seen in places that catered to talking dogs: more like a lounge chair with a step to make it easier for him to climb up. He smacked his mouth noisily, and murmured thanks to Pheribee as she set down a bowl of water and some snacks for him.

Alícha continued to marvel at how Pheribee managed to perform not only ordinary tasks, but fairly delicate and precise ones, in spite of the size of her hands. It was almost as if she was even better at them than someone with slender fingers might have been. But there were other matters to focus on.

“So you’re going to stop needing to worry about that,” Lodemia said, bringing focus back to the reason they’d come to Wilderhaven, “and get yourself brought back to life?”

“Well, I suppose it’s proper,” Broke said after thinking it over as if it were a choice of whether to wear a coat on a chilly day, or not. “We did come all this way out of our way.”

“We’re going to need to find a resurrectionist tomorrow, then,” Tavi said, sucking at her doughnut. Alícha finally retrieved her own from her coffee, using her spoon to take small pieces of the soggy dough from the mug before nibbling at them. “Or tonight.”

“Oh,” Pheribee said from where she was tending to a percolator. “Mister Lucky’s a resurrectionist.”

Silence fell upon the table, except for Lucky’s own drowsy eating.

“For the Coop,” Pheribee explained, as though it made the revelation less odd or fortuitous, “he’s our regular specialist resurrectionist.”

Alícha looked at Lucky. She’d seen talking dogs among adventuring parties and at guilds, before, but she had always assumed them to take the role of, well, dogs. To track, guard, and so forth. Scouting or hunting. The idea that one might be skilled in magical or spiritual matters had never occurred to her.

But then, she hadn’t noticed the presence of anaqim among those same circles, and the night before, a shocked Lodemia had stopped her outside her room to question that. She supposed that might have explained some things she had seen in terms of unusual physiques or stature, but she had just never thought of it as something other than human.

She supposed that there were many things she hadn’t stopped to think about, and considering that reminded her of why she’d wanted to get together with a whole party in the first place. They’d had some encounters with corruption among adventurers, and she supposed it was good that she hadn’t wound up having to deal with it in her own party, as well as those she wound up alongside being at least sympathetic to the notion of dealing with greed and crime among adventurers. But there were some curious things about the Sapir-Wirth and the way that Pheribee had said the Foundry-Delvers were administered.

In most cases, membership in an adventuring guild only lasted as long as a single “victory” in attacking a dungeon. The better ones put membership dues towards providing training and resources for repair, even bringing in merchants to provide weapons, armor, and other equipment. Nearly all offered some kind of deal for resurrection, or zombification as a prelude to resurrection.

But she’d never heard of one that approached a dungeon as something to keep returning to. The only reason to return to most dungeons was that you’d failed, and had to try again to battle the monsters. On rare occasions, you might realize where a hidden passage had been, and come back for that. When a dungeon’s overlord changed over, that usually led to big enough alterations to the dungeon itself to make it worth attacking after a while, but usually not for a good long while. There were limits to the amount of treasures a dungeon could contain that were worth carrying out.

It sounded like the Foundry was different, and that made the Foundry-Delers very different, as well. Was this something that could be applied to other dungeons, she wondered? Was it possible that there were things about the nature of the Dungeon System that were not understood, and that dungeons produced new treasures even long after the activation of the system? She’d been up most of the night, unable to sleep as these questions came to her.

They hadn’t planned on attacking the Foundry, but maybe she could convince the others, after they dealt with Broke’s current condition. And maybe she could learn more about this guild, from Lucky, or Pheribee. Did they stay in the building, or were they adventurers themselves? They each had some peculiarities, differences in their posture from ordinary folk who rarely saw a fight or encountered a true monster. There was strength to Pheribee’s limbs that couldn’t be explained with just the difference in her physique due to the giant blood running through her veins. Lucky’s attitude and words suggested experience outside of religion and the wisdom of age.

Was it possible they could even serve as guides to the Foundry?

“After Shabbos,” Lucky said, looking up from his breakfast. “We can discuss business.”

#Cypora’s Guide to Cementing Your Rule As An Evil Queen

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firstumcschenectady · 4 years ago

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“Love” based on Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17 and Matthew 22:34-46

I'll admit it. I haven't been thinking much about the long game. I'm very much in the present and the near future... the time frame between NOW and the “end” of the pandemic (whatever that means) and maybe the first few weeks to months afterwards. Part of this is the depth of unknowing – what will life look like “after”? What does “after” mean? When will “after” come, and how?

But also, I think I haven't been thinking about the long game because the present and the near future are overwhelming and I sort of forgot that there IS a long game. That is, until I read the Psalm and it felt like standing in a big field in the middle of no where watching the stars come out at night. (I forgot about that too. There are too many lights in the city, and travel is too hard with a pandemic and a baby.)

The Psalmist says to God, “For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past, or like a watch in the night.” And it is perspective, like seeing how SMALL we are in comparison to the night sky, except in this case even better because the time warp we've been in since March (or longer) is put in perspective too.

This too shall pass.

It is incomprehensibly bad, and incredibly hard, and not to be trivialized.

But, this too shall pass.

There still IS a long game out there, and God is still playing it.

That helps me breathe a little deeper.

God is still working on the kin-dom, because God never stops working on the kin-dom. Despite all the intersecting crises of this moment, God keeps working towards a world of abundance, of fair distribution, of love. And God WILL WIN, no matter the set back.

In the midst of this remembering to breathe a little deeper and take some of my fears for the moment and remember that God is playing a long game, Jenna posted this image on Facebook of my very favorite place on earth.

This image also helps me feel the way the Psalm does, with “For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past, or like a watch in the night.” It puts my fears, as well as my frustrations and my hopes, into context. There is so much beauty and there is so much peace, EVEN NOW.

The Gospel also serves as a much needed reminder speaking into these difficult days. The teaching here isn't unique to Jesus, or to Christianity. Rather it is near universal in the world's religions. You may know the story of two great Rabbis, Shammai and Hillel in the century before Jesus:

One famous account in the Talmud (Shabbat 31a) tells about a gentile who wanted to convert to Judaism. This happened not infrequently, and this individual stated that he would accept Judaism only if a rabbi would teach him the entire Torah while he, the prospective convert, stood on one foot. First he went to Shammai, who, insulted by this ridiculous request, threw him out of the house. The man did not give up and went to Hillel. This gentle sage accepted the challenge, and said:

"What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. That is the whole Torah; the rest is the explanation of this—go and study it!"1

This is the key to a life of faith then: Love.

Nothing more or less.

Nothing complicated.

Love.

Loving God and neighbors. We can break it down, or expound on it, but in the end it is just love. There is plenty of commentary on what it means, which is good because it is more challenging than it sounds.

One piece of commentary that has been most meaningful to me comes from the Buddhist tradition. From Buddhism, have learned that loving-kindness flows from compassion, and compassion HAS TO start with yourself. Then it can flow to a loved one, and then loved ones, and then known ones, and then unknown ones.

Because most people I know, myself included, aren't actually all that good at self-compassion, THIS is my suggestion for you this week: once every day find a way you can be more compassionate to yourself, that is to treat yourself with loving-kindness.

As this may seem strange, let me make it a bit more concrete:

If your self-narrative says, “Self, you are so lazy, there is so much to do, get up and DO IT” self compassion may sound like, “Self, you seem warn down. Clearly you need a few moments before anything else is asked of you. What might make those moments more refreshing?”

or...

If your self-narrative says, “Self, you were really mean to that person you spoke to, you are a failure at basic human dignity.” self-compassion may sound like, “Self, that went really poorly didn't it? I know I meant to do better, and I didn't. Let's look at what went wrong, and see if we can find a turning point for next time.”

or....

If your self-narrative says, “Self, for pete's sake, stop doom scrolling! What is wrong with you, you know better!” self compassion may sound like, “Self, it is a scary time and I know you are looking for answers and hope. However, refreshing the news or scrolling social media doesn't have it, does it. It would be nice to feel like there is more control in the world, but alas, my power is only so big. What do I have control over that I could substitute? Hydration? Taking a nap? Deep breathes? A walk? Let's find another way to respond to anxiety that helps more!”

That sort of thing. This week, I hope you will do this once a day! And, if you are superbly good at this (wow! Go you!) then you can try having compassion for ONE other loved one a day too.

It is funny, but loving our neighbors starts with loving ourselves. And compassion for the world starts with letting God's compassion reign in our hearts.

So, dear ones, go and love.

Amen

1 https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/689306/jewish/On-One-Foot.htm

October 25, 2020

#Thinking Church #Progressive Christianity #Reconciling Church #Justice Seeking Church #First UMC Schenectady #UMC #Schenectady #Sorry about the UMC world #Rev Sara E Baron #Love #Self talk #Compassion #Self Compassion #This is hard #Compassion from the inside out

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asreid · 7 years ago

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CREATIVE NONFIC: What You Owe Your Grandmother

A cup of coffee in the morning, maybe. She makes it bitter and doesn’t blend it well enough. There’s always a soggy heap of grounds in the bottom of your mug that looks like wet soil, flecked with white granules of sugar from the jar labeled Sucre.

Your grandmother will never sit down across from you and sip from her own mug. She will be combing the cabinets for oatmeal, or offering you bread and brie, or, most likely, showing you clips she cut out from the newspaper: Arabic classes in the East Village, a screening of a subtitled film about the Sudanese Civil War, an open call for submissions from a literary magazine based in Bushwick.

You take another sip and strategize, trying to be polite in your rebuff without paving the way for a reprisal. But you know she’ll try again; she always does. She’ll email you links to writing competitions and volunteer opportunities. Invite you to your uncle’s jazz concert, or your aunt’s movie premiere at South by Southwest. As her granddaughter, you have a cultural quota to fulfill.

You’ve inherited several things from your grandmother—narrow eyes, which crease up to near-invisibility when you smile. The propensity to disappear into a novel for hours at a time. And most bewilderingly, citizenship to a country you’ve never been to, a small strip of land with the Dead Sea cut out of it like the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle. A biological birthright earned through centuries of pogroms and proscriptions, diasporic vagabondage, and carnage ne plus ultra. Carnage with an air of denouement.

You sit with your grandmother, once, and try to follow the disparate lines of her family tree, your family tree. There are limbs hacked off abruptly, and branches where leaves will never grow. The last name you can write with any certainty is your great-great-grandmother, Esther Kokoshky. An immigration agent at Ellis Island must have been the first to copy it down, hastily converting Cyrillic letters to Latin, letting the Russian diphthongs disappear into obscurity. A kokoshnik is a jeweled headdress. Kokosh is a braided cake like babka, only flatter. This is all you can offer your grandmother, when she stares down at her stunted family tree.

You remember that she is a relic of before—before Ivy League universities grudgingly abolished their Jewish quotas, before Brooklyn hipsters kvetched and noshed. Her grandfather was a candy salesman. Her grandmother spoke English with a beleaguered Slavic lilt. Their past was mortgaged for your future.

Religious observance is a casualty of assimilation, part of the bulk jettisoned on the journey from immigrant to cultural elite. Shabbat dinners have become First Fridays, where your family all gathers around your grandmother’s table. You eat salmon and kale. You Skype the West Coast defectors, an aunt in LA and an uncle in Seattle. Your grandmother often insists on performances: a violin sonata from your cousin, a poem recited in fleckless French. You relent. You recite Rimbaud.

You entertain her fantasies that you’ll write for the New Yorker, or that your cousin will play for the Philharmonic. You carve out a small space for her dreams beside your own, because you owe her that much, at least. You give her as little as you can and hope it is enough. You understand why Jewishness is traced through matrilineal descent. It’s the heaviest burden, the most tenuous bond.

You’ll know that you’ve paid your debt if you fall asleep thinking about a young woman with narrow eyes, shivering as she tries to wrest potatoes from the frozen earth. That was when queens wore kokoshniks and the tsars still sat their thrones. When she was new, and the world was Old.

#creative nonfic*

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