Inheritance Week

There was a tiny visitor in our home for a week – an adorable replica of her Dada – a little 1 1/2 year old who has her Bubbe and Grandpa utterly smitten.

As her parents traveled the southeastern states for a wonderful road-trip week of re-connection, we traversed the roads back to parenthood with a sudden immersion into the world of the toddler.

The first lesson – do not disregard nap times!  We may be the adults and we may be in charge of the schedule, but passing over the nap was such a painful experience come bedtime, oh my!  Right back to the toddler schedule we went!

One of the interesting things I observed that week is the propensity for this little one to gravitate toward little girls things.

As a mom to boys, I have a good stock of toys that boys enjoy:  cars, trucks, planes, boats, ninja turtles and the like.  We’ve stocked plenty of girl things as the years have passed, to appease the nieces who visit.

So I set out an assemblage of age appropriate things – and her little self was smitten with the baby dolls and stuffed animals, and the purse!

Not that any of this matters.  I just found it interesting, in a Bubbe sort of way.

Now that the time has passed, and work has resumed, and gardens have taken all of my home attentions, I look back on the week and smile.

That was the most amazing week of my life.

I’m glad her precious little self has her very precious Mama and Dada back within reach, and I just hope that this was the beginning of a family tradition.

 

What’s Happening?

An overload of work, combined with the sheer overwhelm of ‘letting things go’ during the overload, resulted in a paralysis of sorts.

Then spring temperatures arrived and the daylight lengthened – and a dear friend said “send me some pictures” when I told her I wanted to spend time in the garden.

She knew what she was doing.  I required the prompt to recall that I have cameras for just that purpose – to take photos.

Here’s what’s happening in the garden, sans any human intervention for the past nine months.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Grape leaf bud
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Blueberry flower buds
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Peony leaves
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Sunflower seedling
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Tarragon regrowth
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Self seeded carrot growth
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Healthy asparagus
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Overgrown Raspberry canes
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Potato amidst the onions and garlic
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Lemon Balm
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Parsley return
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Overwintered broccoli blooms
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
Sage
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
New water trough planter 

Finding Harmony

How often in life do you find someone who hits all the notes?

Seriously.  I’m not talking about ringing your orgasmic bell in multiple positions, I’m talking about what makes up your whole being, the tune, the tremor, the composition, the key.  A human being whose orchestration is identical to your own.

There seems to be a lengthy pause.  A recollecting of the individual nuances and rhythms, the high notes and low notes.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Not one person is an absolutely perfect match.

There is going to be, somewhere, at some point in the melody, a disharmony.  A chord that doesn’t blend, a flat where there should be a sharp, an overlap of keys.

It’s no wonder that the cultural expectation of true love, the fairy-tale fed expectation of happily-ever-after, is an elusive composition most often ending in a separation.

As a finely tuned human, you are going to have your own melodies, your own rhythms.

You likely know that a Bach type will likely not mesh well with a Joan Jett type.  Similarly, the Celtic Bagpipes camp is going to be at odds with the Lil Wayne camp.

agony

Accordingly, you make your choice for companions, be it in friendship or partnering, by matching your ‘music’ as best you can.  Perhaps even finding someone who fits a two or three-part harmony on occasion.

Then, because life is simply not simple, there will be an unexpected change in tempo at some point, for you or the other party/parties, which changes the balance so much that the chords compete drastically with each other.

How do you handle that? 

It’s certainly not the same for every person, but I can tell you how My Love and I handled such a change:  by communicating.  Sure, that involved a few loud discussions.  It certainly involved a few tears.  I hate to admit this, but on one occasion, there were also flying objects.

heart felt trio

 

All of those communications created their own composition.  One separate from the rest, but one that told a story of us.  A story of understanding both sides of the tune, recognizing that the changed tempo actually got our attention and knocked the figurative stuck needle off the track and allowed us each to find new songs for ourselves.

Thankfully, it turns out those songs were in harmony.

Reflections

publish beauty

We celebrated this little beauty’s first year recently.  An astonishing fact, considering how quickly this time has lapsed.

It’s been a blurry year.  One of those mind-numbing, day-in and day-out, so many similarities that they all blend together sort of years.  The drudgery, the sameness, mostly blending so completely that before you know, the moments for opportunity are past – passed, slipped on by to become lost time; sometimes regret, sometimes survival.  Mostly, just a blur.

Emergency ailments, celebrations, discord and distress, good health, economic woes, family time, work, great friends – all combined to create another assemblage of time.  Moments and milestones, smiles and scares.

I’ve worked way too much, and the job project has hit the manic phase – a major program changeover that will wrap in ten weeks, with the primary module going live in three.  I’m worn near the frack out.  I was not cut out for 80 hour work weeks.  They’re an attack to the peace of the home front, and emotional health in general.  But the light at the end of the tunnel is now much less dim.

Time to start preparing for the next stage.

Hubby and I are scheduled to host our youngest grandbabe this next spring, spending a full week with her sweetness.  In the interim, we think we need to arrange more visits to get to know her better – so we won’t be such strangers when she makes her special visit to our home.

Shortly after that visit, we hope to attain some serious financial freedom – an opportunity to make remodeling plans for this ol’ home of ours.  Providing that there are no surprises between now and then, the first on my list will be a new main floor bathroom.  Dreams sometimes become reality, right?

Then fall plans include a meet-up with a dear friend, one of my Torah community members, to celebrate a Holy day and travel time visiting places and spaces where I’ve never been.

In the meantime, life is moving along at the full-steam sameness.  Yet, as much as that feels like reality, it’s really not is it?

The world is changing every moment, little bits and pieces bouncing around, pinging off each other, creating actions and reactions that not a single one of us can accurately predict.

We live, we die.

In the in-between, lies reality.

Sh’ma Yisra’eil: Return to the Law

altar rock color

Sh’ma Yisra’eil – Return to the Law.

Torah Law, that is… the religion of the Hebrews.

I can keep it, it’s not terrifically hard, but it doesn’t matter.

Outside the land – It doesn’t matter.

I can live my life restrained only by civil law – eat, drink and be merry.  An ocean away, across the border, on the moon… as long as I’m not in the land chosen by Almighty, the Law is not a matter to much concern me.

So why am I so morose, so concerned with doing what YHWH commanded?  What keeps me on course, holding the line, standing apart and keeping separate from everyone and everything I know?  Why do I not just blend in, become a comfortable fit with society, with culture, with family and friends and community?

If nothing else, so that I can sleep well at night, so that I can practice what I believe with all of my heart.  Even if my obedience makes no difference, none.  Inconsequential, insignificant.  Important only to me.  Important only that by extension, I hope to revere YHWH by keeping the commands.

Truly, YHWH said I will bless them that bless you and curse them that curse you – by you all of the families of the earth will be blessed.

Not me.  Almighty didn’t say that about me.

Not anyone outside the land.  Other nations didn’t get this condition, this special selection.

Only Israel.  Chosen resident of the land.

So hey there Israel – Are you listening?!? – people in the land, citizens, strangers, residents of all shapes, sizes and beliefs – do you not believe YHWH?

Are you fearless, thinking Almighty, YHWH will not require?

The land is chosen, deliberately; forever claimed by YHWH – a possession only lent to others as punishment to those peoples who defiled it, those who denied that YHWH owned the land.

Israel – pay attention before you also are spewed from the land!  Please!

There are terms.  There are conditions.  Go back and search for the God of your father Abraham.  Look to the ancients, those Hebrews who came out of Egypt to serve your Almighty, and repair your ways.  Strip your extraneous laws and traditions and return to YHWH who chose you  – to be the blessing, to dwell safely in the land, to become the rightful servants of YHWH.

Find your priests, the sons of Aaron.  Ask them to take their stand, to resume their required positions.  Support them.  Give them reason  to seek YHWH, to inquire of, and worship YHWH as they have been commanded.  Ask them to seek out the old ways, the ways of Abraham.  Ask them to become servants of YHWH, as designed.

Kick those fucking rabbis to the curb.  Eject them from the land if you have to, if they, like others before them, refuse to honor the established hierarchy set forth by YHWH.  If they continue to usurp the position of authority set forth by YHWH, then send them away.  They lead you astray.

The rest of us are counting on you – whether we know it or not – our future hangs in the balance, waiting on you.  All of the families of the earth are looking and hoping for a thing that will not happen without you.

Save yourselves, and allow us to rejoice in your resumed status, as Chosen of YHWH, rightful residents of the Land of Israel, Land of YHWH.

 

 

Stripping Away Cultural Inheritance

%d bloggers like this: