good to be home.

So, let me first tell you about that experience a few nights ago at my friends' house:

I needed to go to their house to help them out a bit in the craze of pesach preparations. I enjoyed doing this, really, for one because I was helping out a friend and also because I am not doing my own hunt for chametz this year (more on this hopefully in the next post cause I don't want to overload you:). I went over to these sweet people's house and ended up doing lots of odds and ends type jobs - laundry sorting, folding, putting away dishes, etc. As we were working one of my friends was discussing why she had chosen certain dishes, the process of setting up her home and things of the like. I suddenly got a wave of sadness. I remember that process - three times in fact - a new apartment each year. I remember the painting (I always made him do the ceilings and I did the trim:). I remember where things were in the apartments. Creating home. I loved living with him - even when he infuriated me and I infuriated him. Home is what we create, family is what we build for ourselves out of the wonderful people we meet along the way, right moomoo? Lots of good times, lots more yet to have - many more homes yet to build.

Between G-BO, NC and upstate NY I saw:

two confederate flags
too many churches
5 Quebec license plates
5 states

and I heard one absolutely bizarre add on the radio which went something like this:

"Hello, I am a pastor from the church of (something or other which I didn't catch) and I have a message for you today which I hope will get ya'll to come and visit us here in __________, NC (which I also don't remember at the moment). Last week a man who worked at a mattress factory lost his finger in one of the machines. He was traumatized and could no longer work due to his injury. He filed a claim with his insurance to get compensation. However, the insurance company sent out a field agent to ensure that the man had not simply been negligent. The agent tried the machine and to his dismay he also lost one of his fingers. Now, folks, if God listens to the prayers of people who do such ridiculous things, He certainly listens to your prayers."

That was it - that was the whole add - I was pretty blown away first of all at a church advertising on the radio. But the add was also just so odd....what kind of message is that...anyway, I'll leave it at that.

I arrived home 11 hours later just about - many good tunes and miles after I started - and I found a quirky, so my parents, item in our front yard. Apparently our mailbox was knocked over by the city snow plow this winter and my dad took one of my stilts that I used as a child to rig it up. It looks home made (not hand-made, Nancy my dear). I will include a picture in my next post. When I asked my father why he had used the stilt, this was his answer:

"well, at 30 below I thought it would do the job."

"but why the stilt?"

"well, what you have there is an example of what old farts do when they get to be old farts. When we need to fix something we find something from our basements and fix it."

He left it at that. So my dad, so cute. Really, I think it is modern art.

Also in my next post I will tell you about my seders and pesach experiences so far. I head to my old home tomorrow, with a stop in O-town to visit some old friends. I hope you all had meaningful seders and will have a restful and joyous shabbas; for my Catholic peeps, Easter is just around the corner and i hope you too find meaning in this special time of year (in addition to painted eggs, marshmallow bunnies and other elements of commercialism of course...oy....)

laila...