Farbreng

Did you know that we are part of something huge?
Something awesome.
Something so holy it's beyond anything this world can even try to comprehend?

~~~

I must admit this is probably the first year that i have a true appreciation for yud tes kislev and what it really stands for.
(and even that is just a drop in the proverbial bucket)


Yeah, people think we have it easy.
But in truth F.F.B.s have it tough.


It's our struggle to be wowed by the everyday of our lives.

To gaze with awe at the norm that has become our routine.

To look deeper than the background that surrounds everything we do.


~~~~


L'chaim my dear friends.
It's yud tes kislev...FARBRENG!!!
And learn, learn, learn cuz there's no end to learning.
And there's no other way to survive in a world like this with a neshama like ours.

Lshana Tova Bi'limud Hachasidus Ubi'darchei Hachasidus

cozy

illustration by Audrey Ficociello


ahh.
:)
it was a fine day.
it was a gorgeous cloud-filled sunset day.
full of pinks and blues.
such lovely hues.


day in day out day in day out


is it just me...
or is it warm in here?


blogging is such sweet sorrow.
not really
but it sounds goodly in the hoodly.

~~~

i remember the nights before gimmel tammuz when i would go to bed and after saying shma would say:

the rebbe zol zayn gezunt moshiach zol shoyn kumen

every night

the rebbe zol zayn gezunt moshiach zol shoyn kumen

then after a while it turned into...

moshiach zol zayn gezunt the rebbe zol shoyn kumen

:)

~~~

hmmmm.

it's kinda nice to type on the kitchen table rather than on my desk upstairs.
surrounded by grapes
and rugelach
and apple cinnamon oatmeal from ralphs with lower sugar.
yeah - that stuff is way too sugary for mine taste.

droopy eyes.
tired shoulders.

i hope
your day
was as awesome
as was mine.

love
c

spilled milk

Guess what.

There are buy-one-get-one-free tickets on virginamerica.com for bentzy's wedding.

Thank you Hashem.

Nice move.

Representing

It's official.
I've become a boy.

Allow me to explain.

Just the other day Shmueli slaps my car with two large rectangular magnetic strips meant for advertising.

They say:

Los Alamitos Hebrew High
Fun, Meaningful, Accredited (wow I've memorized this) now enrolling blah blah blah...

At first I was like, "nice, he thinks my car is so classy people will want to send their kids just because they see the advert on such a classy car with such a classy driver".

Then I was like, "darn, why must my car have two large magnets stuck to its sides...they're bringing down the neighborhood".

Either way I swallowed my pride and drove on, through smog and fog and blog.
;)


Well, it happened.
I was driving down Los Al Blvd and needed to make a very necessary yet slightly impractical move.
So I cut over one lane and caused the driver behind me to step on his breaks a bit harder than he would have liked.
As I turn into the turning lane he rolls up next to me.
I look at him with an apologetic gesture and a little wave only to see his eyes drift...
Down.
Down.
Down.
From my sorry face in the window to the door of my car...

Then it hit me.
Ohmygoodness...
The magnet!!

Shoot.

I have officially become the driving representative of all Jews in Los Al.
Forget Los Al, the whole world.
Now this guy thinks that all Jews are idiots and lousy drivers to boot.

As I round the bend towards home the whole yarmulka and tzitzis thing dawns on me.
I mean, I know about the concept but I've never felt it this strongly before.

So this is what it feels like.

There's no hiding.

I am.

I represent.

.
.
.

Woah.

I'll be more careful next time.

Surprise! :)

Sitting at mine desk.
It's late in the night.
My picture wall stares back at me.
.
.
.
Here I see you, eyes closed, dripping wet from dunking your head in the baby pool in your old backyard.

There I see you, with a slightly distracted look on your clown face that purim in our shul, surrounded by your crazy aunts in full costume.

And there again, all dressed up in ND's arms, the ever-present head band on your head.

~~~

There's nothing like a first.
If you only knew how much joy you brought to our whole family.
It sounds sorta kinda corny and lame-o lame-o, but it's true.
Truly.
Scrumptious.

You were like my daughter, sister, friend.
So small and cute and delicious and edible.

And now you are like my age.
I mean, we can nearly share clothes...
:)
Not just the wool sweaters I would accidentally put in the washing machine so they shrunk to a size only you would have fit into.

(Which reminds me...I have a sweater for you.)
(Are you sleeping over tomorrow?) (I hope so.)


Well.
I must wish you a good night.
You should be in bed by now (ahem) so I won't keep you any longer.

Enjoy your day tomorrow.
And remember what uncle Eli said.
Today was the birthday of chassidus and Yud Tes Kislev is the bris...

Nar oif simches my dearest.
All my love.
And more.
Tante C

Shalom wants to know if a seashell is a phone to the ocean

Nor Ayner Haist Ah Chusid

To learn is to live is to balance
To listen is to hear is to nod
To see is to know is to believe
To feel is to hold is to empathize
To cry is to show is to connect
To love is to leap is to open
To care is to call is to be there

To write is to think is to share

And to you I say hang in there...
Life ain't all that bad
And even if it is, you're stronger than that

So pick up your chin
And grin
And say
Oh...

The sun'll come out tomorrow so you gotta hang on till tomorrow
Come what may

:)

Tonight is yud kislev
Let's farbreng!
Here's a sicha in honor of the night
Read and enjoy
I did...


Sicha


A gutte nacht my fellow chassidiste's
We should merit the redemption from this deep, dark and dank exile tonight
L'chaim!

Little Boy Blue

illustration by Julie Cork

Come hither ye reader as I must share with you a tale that brings a chuckle to my heart and a giggle to my larynx.


~~~


It was four score and ten years ago.
On a cold wintry night in Nov, Dec, Jan or Feb.


(twilight zone music playing in the background)


My little brother, who must have been around ten years old at the time, walks into the kitchen and puts up a kettle on the stove.

When it whistles he runs upstairs and returns carrying a negel vasser kvort and shissel.

He then begins pouring the water from the kettle into the negel vasser kvort.



"Brother, what the world are you doing????"


"Well," he replied, "every morning when I wake up and wash negel vasser the water is freezing cold.

I'm boiling the water so when i wake up in the morning it will be warm."



"Aha. I see. Genius."



The next day...



"So brother, how was the water for your negel vasser?"

"Freezing cold."



~~~



LOL
ohmythatcracksmeup!!
:)

I love that story.

kibud aim

illustration by audrey ficociello

so i'm talking to my mother in the kitchen this morning over the sound of gardeners and running water from the sink and to the smells of challah, chicken and g. fish baking.

i as usual am being overly analytical about topics best left to their own conclusions...poor mother must deal with my idiosyncrasies as i do live in her home...and she knows as i know that most of the things i rip apart and put back together end up resolving themselves after a certain period of time only to leave me feeling like an over-obsessive moron.

which only serves to remind me of my many imperfections...and prompts me to say the following...

"life is not about perfection, it's about making the best of what we were created with."

mother says, "you should put that on your blog."

i think, why should i put that on my blog? it's not like i came up with the concept.

then i realize it doesn't matter whether or not i came up with the concept.
mother says; you must obey.

so i did.


but of course, now that i've broken my fri. morning routine and list of things to do (dessert, set up bed for z.r., do a deep cleaning on the backyard for bentzy's l'chaim next sunday [you're all invited...1-4 our house]) my mind must go on one of its random hikes.


~~~~


kibud aim.
what does that mean?
especially in the world and society we were blessed to be born into.
it's really pretty easy to feel like we are respectful daughters...compared to all the kids out there who yell and curse at and ignore and disrespect and disregard their parents makes us shine for just listening to a simple command like, "please wash the lettuce for shabbos".

but we are taught that with regards to ruchniyus we should not compare ourselves to those that are lower than us and gloat, but rather to those higher than us...the ones we should strive to be like.

i will share with you a story.
it is true.
the names have been changed to protect the innocent...
(fine, it's my bubby)

many years ago there lived a family in a small apartment on president street in the crown heights section of brooklyn ny.
the father was a saintly man who strived every day just to do a favor for a fellow jew; the mother a G-d fearing woman who dedicated her life to her children and husband.

and so it was that one day a young child passed away and one of the daughters came home with the sad news and shared it with her mother.
when the father found out about this he berated the young girl for telling her mother and thereby bringing unnecessary pain to this special woman.
"but she would have found out anyways..." protested the girl.
"not matter, you don't have to be the one to cause her pain.
(not direct quotes, bear with me, i wasn't there)

indeed this seemed to be a pattern.
whenever there was an occurrence of tragedy, pain, loss or suffering on any scale, be it large or small, the children learned from their father that mother was to be protected from the news as much as possible.
all for the purpose of not bringing unnecessary pain to this special woman.


time flies by like clouds passing in the sky.

the family grows and with it the joys and sorrows of life.
the children now have families of their own and carry on the tradition of sharing as much good news as possible with the matriarch while shielding her from as much pain as they can spare.


~~~~


the mother is now k'ah 91 years old.
and although the man who stood by her and protected her for all those years has since passed on, the legacy that he instilled in his children has not and has continued with his grandchildren.


thank you zaidy for giving us a model to live above and beyond the demands of modern society.

good shabbos all.
(i better go call bubby to wish her a good shabbos. :) )

wawaweewa

my brother came home today from new york.
he's engaged.

crazy kind a times.
:)

just a week and a day ago he left a single...and today he returned a half.

awesome.


this is life.

i like.

Nighttime

illustration by paint monster

It's Wednesday night.
Again.
And the house is fairly quiet.

All I can hear are strains of mother telling a tale to the sleepy grandkids from mv in the room across the hall.

:)

Reminds me of the stories we used to hear as kids.
The boys room and the girls room were next door to each another, and father would stand in the hallway between the two rooms, with both doors open, telling a story for us as we lay in our bunkbeds.
Ahhh.


My window is wide open and crickets chirp once again...
My laptop has asthma of sorts and its fan breathes rather loudly.
Nechama plops down next to me to show the work she's been doing on the magazine for Marc.
Her laptop makes random foghorn sounds.
Whatever.
Mac vs PC.
I guess I'd rather an asthmatic PC to a foghorn Mac.


The phone rings.
It's Esty.
:)

Real

T'is pretty crazy how when fire threatens your home the things that are most important to you become crystal clear.

The Poway CA refugees arrived at our home two weeks ago after running from the inferno that threatened their home and the homes of hundreds of thousands.

They walked in the door...


My pregnant sister - intact B"H

With their kids - adorable k'ah

A kesuba
Two candle sticks
Two sifrei torah from chabad house
A suitcase of clothes
Some buckets of toys

Zehu.
This is life.

it makes me me

illustration by elana nazzaro

Some music makes me happy.

Especially when I'm in the mood of it.
:)
The joy just spreads through my body...pure joy.


Some music makes me hyper.

in'tza in'tza in'tza...
driving in the car...need to watch my speed as the pace of the car begins to match my beats of my heart.


Some music makes me sappy.

And the tears they flow.
Oh, there's nothing better than sappy music for a sappy mood.


Some music makes me dance.

Well, duh.


Some music makes me nostalgic for days gone by.

Brings back a memory or a picture, a snapshot of time stood still.


Some music makes me deep.

Thoughtful.
Introspective.
Makes me feel holy and G-dly connected.
Like a soul without a body.


Some music makes me wanna sing and laugh and cry all at once.



~~~~

The other day I was listening to some olden olden day vintage avraham fried.

I barely even hear it, just working in the office…

The songs play on...

And on and on...

It's the soundtrack of my childhood.

I can’t say this music makes me particularly happy, or hyper or sappy or dancy or nostalgic or deep…

It just makes me me.

Don't Tell Anyone.

It's 1:55 in the am.
Something makes me come and visit my old blog...I haven't been here in weeks.

Nice to be back.
:)

I start to read.
Post after post after post.
I only make it to June.

Some make me laugh.

Some make no sense whatsoever.
What was i thinking?

Some make me think why was I so self conscious.
Some make me think I'm a pretty good writer.
Some make me cringe.
I feel like deleting all the bad stuff and leaving the good stuff.

I think about writing again.

I feel like I have nothing to share.
And yet I feel like if i don't share I'm doing a disservice.

So maybe what I have to say is slightly lame or unimportant or self serving.
Who cares.
If sharing it with you makes a difference, who am I to crawl into a hole and hide?

We are all inspirations to someone.
Somewhere.
Somehow.
Whether we like it or not.

So grab life by the horns
Take every opportunity to shed a little more light.
To be a little more transparent.
A little more holy.

Breathe in
Breathe out

I better post this quick before i change my mind.
Layla tov my friends
Ohmygosh my head hurts from typing in the dark.
I'm sleeping in tomorrow...
:)
Oh the joys of working for yourself.

See you around.
Love,
Chani