The Best Motto

Gd, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannon change
Courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference.

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.

You woke up this morning - Congratulations! You got another chance!

Thursday, November 18, 2010

SHANA TOVA!

As it was self-evidenced by the lack of entries, my blogging was lagging behind again for the last couple of months. So, I would like to take this opportunity of blessed five seconds of peace and quiet to wish everyone Shana Tova (hey, it is only Kislev).

To all my brothers and sisters, regardless of their self-proclaimed affiliation (or the lack of thereof) and to all righteous people in this world I wish, from the bottom of my heart, a year of goodness, happiness, health, prosperity, love, friendship, and the continued protection and blessings from our Heavenly Father! And as always my biggest wish is that the meaning of Arba Minim would be a guiding light for all the Jews.

On the lighter note, here are my holiday highlights:

As always, managed to visit a record number of friends neglected throughout the year; if the memory serves me right, had only one verbal altercation.

The requisite naps in schul – check.

Over-stuffing on good food – check.

Over-imbibing of alcoholic beverages – on the slim side.

Short fashion report: Beau Brummell reigns almost supreme, with the few pathetic attempts to undermine him with flowery patterns, light blues, browns, and peach. The hair ornaments made out of the feathers of small birds apparently went out of fashion this year with nothing to substitute for (at least in our congregation).

Our family’s “off the boat” anniversary, which falls on Mostzei Yom Kippur in Hebrew calendar and on September 22 in Gregorian, this year corresponded with Erev Succot; we did not really celebrate much, but yours truly got one of the best complements from her host of the night: “I think you love this country more than a lot of Americans”.

The first night of Succot was, of course, marked by torrential rains and everyone’s amusing stories of horror; I just had fun in the company of varying medical professionals complete with “Shabbos Goy” – a very nice Italian cardiologist who loves Jews and Jewish holidays.

And finally, on this Succot, there was a market absence of discussions by my guy friends as to what kind of serial killer would I represent.

Shana Tova U’Metuka!

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