Luckily they have a big house and a big backyard so the partiers could all fit inside.I carefully followed direx to get there as the Edgehill Road Bridge will be out until 2018. Did I tell you they work in the middle of the night, shining their lights directly into my friend Rem's apartment?
Nikki had kindly driven me Mom there. Mom had plopped herself on a couch in the family room. I was so glad she was there. Born in 1922.
Am sitting here now - 8:45 am - drinking SnickerSomething Coffee that Iris and Art brought when they visited.
The best conversation I had at the party was with Haley, who sat next to me on the couch, wearing a lovely polka-dotted dress.
The name Haley is back. She knows a few.
Mom had worked very hard on gifts for Max and Grace.
She had made a charm bracelet for Grace. Mom obsessed on whether the bracelet fit her but I insisted it did.
For Max she had about 6 tiny tin boxes that fit into each other like Kachina Dolls. (Thank you memory!) Wrong!
These are Russian dolls.
Yesterday I called Mom to report on the reception of her gifts.
Me? You're asking? I brought a gift card to Barnes and Noble.
I called Dan to inquire if they liked the gifts.
First Max said he LIKED the tiny tins. Then he said he LOVED them!!!
Grace, in soto voce, said she liked the CHARM bracelet.
Let me reaffirm how B'FUL it was. Great work, Mom!!!
NANCY AND THE HAGADAH
That good man Moses led us
out of bondage so we
could be free.
We remember his endurance at this
happy time of year, as we
enter Dave and Natalie's
sweet-smelling home
Where someone finally
remembers to turn off
the blaring TV.
Where is she,
we wonder, where is
the guest of honor?
Bzzzz! The buzzer
announces Nancy's
arrival, all the way
from a small town
in Virginia, where
once the first Pilgrims
starved to death
on the unfamiliar land.
Scott and I have brought
orange tulips as gifts
their prodigal blooming
continues. So many
living things, and the
creek ripples in the
moonlight.
Next year, reads the
Hagadah, we will be in
the Land of Israel.
Food, love, and mystery
are the Trinity of Passover.
On the glass table are
photos that mark the
passage of time.
The photographer from
Castor and Cottman has
rouged their cheeks,
painted their lips
preserved forever
the beauty that was
youth: Jews, once
conscripted, now
serve proudly in
our wars, our ceaseless
wars.
Young Matt's
girlfriend Rube is
from Iraq, Matt,
exhausted, snoozes
on the couch.
Quarrels great and
small ensue in the
living room and everywhere
the free-thinking Jews
gather around
Who are YOU to question
the wisdom of Jehovah?
Raise your hand if you
want a cup of coffee.
Mine goes flying into
the air like the volleyball
serve I once had.
The knedlach soup is worth
crossing the Red Sea, the
matzoh balls tasty and
porous as the moon.
Dessert comes booming from
the kitchen, Debbie carrying
black and white cookies, marble
cake, and the mandatory macaroons
that even flat-bellied Scott - the
only one - deigns to eat.
His Grandfather Sy dead of diabetes
at 65. Natalie's mother, Yetta,
owned a luncheonette under the
ELevated train where Scott now
works at SEPTA.
Workers all of us, who make
America what she is. Scott
has calluses on his hands
while mine are soft as
Philadelphia cream cheese.
Goodbye Goodbye Goodbye!
The death of Nancy's mother
brought her back to our
family, still growing.
Kaia Rose with her smiling
Chinese eyes is almost
three months now.
The smell of coffee follows
us home, as Scott and I
talk softly in the car.
Danny, his mother Carol who
can't be with us, Tommy and
Amy with their cats and cigarettes,
my eyes close softly, not for
the final time, but that's
the mystery of life.
Live to the hilt, the expiration
date is known only to The Man.
happy time of year, as we
enter Dave and Natalie's
sweet-smelling home
Where someone finally
remembers to turn off
the blaring TV.
Where is she,
we wonder, where is
the guest of honor?
Bzzzz! The buzzer
announces Nancy's
arrival, all the way
from a small town
in Virginia, where
once the first Pilgrims
starved to death
on the unfamiliar land.
Scott and I have brought
orange tulips as gifts
their prodigal blooming
continues. So many
living things, and the
creek ripples in the
moonlight.
Next year, reads the
Hagadah, we will be in
the Land of Israel.
Food, love, and mystery
are the Trinity of Passover.
On the glass table are
photos that mark the
passage of time.
The photographer from
Castor and Cottman has
rouged their cheeks,
painted their lips
preserved forever
the beauty that was
youth: Jews, once
conscripted, now
serve proudly in
our wars, our ceaseless
wars.
Young Matt's
girlfriend Rube is
from Iraq, Matt,
exhausted, snoozes
on the couch.
Quarrels great and
small ensue in the
living room and everywhere
the free-thinking Jews
gather around
Who are YOU to question
the wisdom of Jehovah?
Raise your hand if you
want a cup of coffee.
Mine goes flying into
the air like the volleyball
serve I once had.
The knedlach soup is worth
crossing the Red Sea, the
matzoh balls tasty and
porous as the moon.
Dessert comes booming from
the kitchen, Debbie carrying
black and white cookies, marble
cake, and the mandatory macaroons
that even flat-bellied Scott - the
only one - deigns to eat.
His Grandfather Sy dead of diabetes
at 65. Natalie's mother, Yetta,
owned a luncheonette under the
ELevated train where Scott now
works at SEPTA.
Workers all of us, who make
America what she is. Scott
has calluses on his hands
while mine are soft as
Philadelphia cream cheese.
Goodbye Goodbye Goodbye!
The death of Nancy's mother
brought her back to our
family, still growing.
Kaia Rose with her smiling
Chinese eyes is almost
three months now.
The smell of coffee follows
us home, as Scott and I
talk softly in the car.
Danny, his mother Carol who
can't be with us, Tommy and
Amy with their cats and cigarettes,
my eyes close softly, not for
the final time, but that's
the mystery of life.
Live to the hilt, the expiration
date is known only to The Man.
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