What is it with cats and plastic, anyway? All of my cats like to lick plastic. (They don't ingest it -- just lick.) Embla likes to rub against it. Huh?

Saturday I had lunch with the Orthodox (Chabad) family we visited once before. It was a pleasant afternoon. ( Read more... )

Yesterday we got together with other members of our Pennsic camping group to make some camp furniture. We have two problems to address: we need more seating, and we need places to put the miscellaneous clutter that accumulates on the tables. So we made chests, specifically sized to work well for seating at tables. Some people actually built them Saturday; Sunday was sanding and painting. Note for future: sawdust is, or behaves like, an allergen. Oops. We had fun, and the chests are very spiffy -- comfortable to sit on and good for storage. We made two "one-seaters" and one double (it's three feet long). The double will require two people to carry, but the singles are light enough to be moved by one person.

After dinner and the departure of most of the people, Dani and I stuck around for a while to play games with Alaric. The first game we played was Vinci (I forget who publishes it). It's a neat game, though I think it plays rather differently with three players than with the max of six. You play on an abstract map of Europe, and you play a civilization with two arbitrary characteristics (such as "extra points from grasslands" or "extra points from resource spaces" or "get extra temporary soldiers at the start of each turn"). On your turn you expand/attack, then score based on your position, then pass to the next person. Units that you lose due to conquest are not replaced, so over time your ability to score decreases. When you think you've reached the point where it's no longer worthwhile, you declare that you are going into decline and get a new civilization to play on your next turn. Your tokens from the previous civilization stick around, and score, until blown away by the other players. When someone reaches a certain score threshold you complete the turn and then high score wins. I ended up with civilizations that were fairly straightforward to play, and won by a few points. I would enjoy playing this game again with more people; I think more players would force faster turnover.

After that we played Carcassonne; I'm not very good at it, but it was fun. Sometimes I think I will never get a handle on the strategy for claiming fields. We played with an expansion that included some new tiles, all of the "double or nothing" variety. For example, by default, at the end of the game, a partially-completed city still scores some points; if it contains a cathedral tile then it scores more points if complete but none at all if incomplete. I haven't played enough to know if this actually adds anything, or if it's just needless complexity. I suppose it can work well if played hostily -- that is, play a cathedral into someone else's city that you think he won't be able to complete.

This weekend we watched more of B5 season four, specifically the end of the shadow war. This seemed abrupt in the first run; it seems even more abrupt now. I assume, but don't know, that if JMS had known he had a fifth season, he would have carried this war through this season and into the fifth, and focused more on the Earth and Minbari civil wars. That would have made a much better story, I think. We were both struck by how well the end of "Into the Fire" could have worked as the end of the series -- not that that's where he would (or should) have ended it, but in terms of the storytelling, it had "major wrap-up" written all over it.

Another show where watching the DVDs reinforces a past impression is West Wing. Watching season three on DVD so soon after the broadcast of season five emphasizes just how much better the show was in the prior season. I think season four might have been weaker than season three, but five was much much weaker than anything that came before. Sad.

Several weeks ago a woman named Tova showed up at our Shabbat morning minyan. We got to talking after the service and talked vaguely about doing some Shabbat meal together. I invited her on a week that didn't work for her, she invited us on a week that didn't work for us, etc. (And I am nagged by the feeling that my kashrut might not be good enough for her, though I'd like to invite her. I know how to cook for those more observant than I; I'm less clear on how to reassure them that I've done so correctly.) Anyway, we finally connected this week.

She is an Israeli who is here for an extended period (several months but less than a year). She is staying with her in-laws here in Squirrel Hill. So Dani and I were invited to their Shabbat dinner this week. This meant missing services at my congregation, but so long as I don't do that too often I can deal with that.

The whole family was very friendly, warm, and welcoming. The couple have three children (eyeballing it, I'd say ages 6 through 12 or so). They also have a niece staying with them at the moment. So it was a good-sized group, but small enough that there was one conversation rather than several.

The family is Orthodox -- maybe Chabad; couldn't tell for sure and didn't ask. (I may ask Tova at some point.) They didn't seem to have issues with women singing; Tova invited us to sing and she sang herself, and in fact the singing was one of the best parts of the evening. They handed us bentchers that also have song collections and asked us to pick ones that had words we liked and they'd teach us melodies. At one point I was able to teach them a melody for one of them that they didn't know. Most of their melodies were unfamiliar to me, but Dani and I both picked them up quickly.

The father gave a short d'var torah (commentary on the week's portion) and then invited each of the kids to do so. Yeah, in part this probably fills the "what did you learn in school today?" niche, but I like it even though I'm not a parent. I'm relieved that they didn't invite us to do so, though, as I wasn't prepared (hadn't anticipated it) and Dani certainly wouldn't have been prepared.

We also talked about secular things -- work and hobbies and stuff. Talking about our interests in music is what set off the invitation to sing, actually. Tova and Dani talked some about Israel, since they were both born there. It was a successful gathering socially -- much friendliness and interaction all around.

Tova knew going in that I had married a mostly-secular Jew, and she of course met me in a Reform congregation (though she doesn't know what my educational background is). So for a number of things she was providing explanations and tutoring (e.g. telling us to just repeat the blessing for hand-washing after her, phrase by phrase). I'm glad she was trying to make things easy, but was unsure how to react to some of it. Mostly I just nodded and smiled because while almost all of this was stuff I already knew, I didn't want to embarrass Dani (who probably didn't know). But I'm a bit torn, because there seemed to be this presumption that as as Reform Jew I wouldn't know this stuff, and I'm not sure if I should tell her that some of us do. She's a very nice person and was not trying to offend or anything, but I could see someone else possibly taking that the wrong way. On the other hand, I'm a bit of a mutant. So I don't know if I should clue her in or just let it go on the theory that it may never come up again. I did manage to contribute some clues during the torah discussions, though, so maybe that was enough of a hint. :-)

I saw a nifty new gadget. When we make kiddush (say the blessing over wine to sanctify Shabbat or a holiday), everyone at the table is then supposed to drink some of that specific wine -- the wine in the cup that was held by the person making the blessing. At home it's just the two of us and we share the cup; at a larger gathering this is less practical, and it's normal to pour from the kiddush cup after the blessing into a bunch of smaller cups and then distribute them. The new gadget was a "fountain": it had several spouts, each with a little cup sitting under it, and the man who made kiddush then poured the cup in the top and all the little cups filled. Neat! (And yes, there are stoppers of some sort so you only have to activate the number of spouts that you'll need that night.) I would almost never actually have occasion to use something like this, but boy was it neat! I'd both like to have one and like to have occasions to use it.

The evening -- about three and a half hours, by the way -- was a taste of what Shabbat is supposed to be like. I usually only get this at my congregation's annual retreat, when about 30 or 35 of us and my rabbi go away and spend a full Shabbat rather than just the few hours of services. While a single meal can't match an entire Shabbat, this was evocative of that experience in a lot of ways. I crave the ability to recreate this in my house from time to time, but I'm not really sure how. This worked because a critical mass of people knew the songs, knew the rituals, were able to speak words of torah -- could I assemble such a group here without putting Dani on the spot? (Aside: sadly, my rabbi is very allergic to cats, so inviting him doesn't work.) It usually falls to the host(s) to initiate this ruach -- spirit -- that comes from singing and speaking torah and so forth, and that's not something that Dani signed up for. (He was very generous in agreeing to go with me to the dinner Friday.) I invite guests from time to time, but we have a meal and more ordinary conversations; it's not like what we experienced Friday night. How can I make the transition?

One of Rabbi Kushner's more recent books is Invisible Lines of Connection, a collection of (true) stories that seem to show God's involvement in ordinary events of ordinary people. This idea -- lines of connection -- formed the theme for the visit. He told many stories on this theme (some from the book, some not), and tried to get us to think about God's involvement in our lives.

( Read more... )

Saturday morning went well. My rabbi had just come back from a retreat where, among things, they apparently focused on doing more with less. So we skipped some songs and some of the English repetitions and stuff and tried to really focus on the parts we did do. I liked it. I don't like rushing, especially if the rushing is in pursuit of something arguably pointless. (If you've just said the prayer in Hebrew, repeating it in English is pointless to me. If the point is to be friendly to those who can't read Hebrew even with transliteration, then the answer IMO is to sometimes skip the Hebrew. But don't do things twice.)

lefkowitzga joined us for Shabbat lunch, which was very nice. And she found fresh, tasty strawberries in Giant Eagle! I didn't know that was possible this time of year. We had no leftovers. :-)

Gail and I spent some time looking through the collection of Salamone Rossi's liturgical music to choose candidates for the choir. We both like his kedusha (for four voices), so we're going to suggest that. It took me a little while to figure out where the text came from, as I didn't recognize parts of it; it's from Shabbat Musaf, which Reform doesn't do. (Artscroll to the rescue.) Ah, ok. I knew there were differences, but I didn't know they were as significant as they are.

The edition of the Rossi music I have is bad in a couple ways. Some of the transliterations are just plain wrong; the text is also difficult to read in places. This is also someone's attempt to transliterate for French speakers, so it's not the usual mappings. For the last two pieces I retypeset the whole thing, but both times, despite serious proofreading, I managed to make some mistakes. I'm wondering if I should just hand it out as-is this time, hand everyone a pencil, and start reading off the text the way it's supposed to be. Or maybe someone else in the choir is better at transcription than I apparently am. We'll see, I guess. The first step is to get approval for the piece.

Saturday night was our long-awaited D&D game (it's been several weeks), where we rescued the two party members who had been captured by the vampires. It went very well, I thought, and Ralph was able to give us an adventure hook that got us some money and a specific task to pursue. The fight with the vampires, and subsequent rescue, cost a lot of money, so this is a welcome development. (Side note: the character who is largely responsible for this mess in the first place, the wizard, was both ungrateful for the rescue (we didn't get his spellbooks) and presumptuous about the spending of the money. (He got a lot of it for restarting his spellbooks.) He's a pretty ornery character, and in-game we probably would have dumped him long ago. But the player-level dynamics make that hard. I have no idea how much of this the player realizes.)

Sunday dinner was pleasant, except that Dani's been fighting a persistent cough for a couple days and it got worse tonight so we had to bail early. We stopped at a store on the way home to explore alternatives in cough syrup. I hope that whatever he picked out is more effective than what he was using.

Two mechanical annoyances struck this weekend. The first involves the washing machine; I went downstairs to move the laundry to the dryer only to find sudsy water on the floor and (I would later discover) still in the machine. The tub into which the machine drains was almost but not entirely full (and not draining), but I couldn't tell if the water on the floor was overflow or a separate problem. (What would cause the machine to stop, after all? It doesn't know that the tub is full...) So I applied a plunger to the tub and eventually picked out a lot of gunk from the drain; I could tell there was more that I couldn't reach. (What the heck is that and what's it doing in our drain? Eww...) This looked like a job for Liquid Plumber. :-) I rinsed off the clothes from the washer by hand so I could move them to the dryer and started the next load with some trepidation. Nothing went wrong there, so I still don't know what stopped the washer. I do not like this kind of mystery.

The other problem is that either my monitor (CRT) or my graphics card is failing, but I haven't shlepped heavy monitors around yet to test which. (Well, I suppose it could also be a cable. Hmm.) Every now and then my screen flickers and takes on rather more yellow than is normal. My computer has jaundice. Whee. Maybe tomorrow I will investigate further.

Second time... during the shoot. Ouch.

D&D on Wednesday was fun. We were fighting a party that we were trying not to kill (friendly folks under mind-control magic), which made it challenging. My sorceror did not throw even a single fireball. :-) I think my character's paladinhood-enhanced saving throws took Ralph by surprise, though, even though we had discussed it in the abstract. (Yes, there is a natural synergy in D&D 3.0 between sorcerors and paladins. Odd but true. And our ultra-benevolent GM is letting me do it. Mind, part of what he gets out of this is a significant plot hook when he needs it, because of the way he implemented it, but I figure it'll be a good story so that works for me.)

This week's West Wing gave me hope: a good, well-executed episode in the post-Sorkin world. I hope it's indicative of what's to come. (I just about fell out of my chair laughing during the speech-writing scene, because I knew what had to be coming.)

At last night's board meeting, the rabbi urged us all to make short appointments for individual chats. Last time he made that offer the result for me was regular one-on-one study with him. I wonder what'll happen this time. :-)

Trick-or-treating hours in my neighborhood are generally pretty early (5-7ish), so we're usually not even home from work. This year Halloween is on Shabbat, though, and post-DST-change, which means I'll certainly be home. Not excited about dealing with it, but home nonetheless. I guess I should pick up some candy. :-) (I don't mind the little kids at all; while I don't get into the whole "oh isn't that CUTE!" and/or "oh I'm so SCARED!" thing, I'm willing to play along on the candy ritual. It's the teenagers who don't even put on costumes but just show up on your doorstep holding out sacks that bug me. If you want to play, you should at least try.)

We're attending a bar mitzvah (and luncheon) tomorrow. I am unclear on the gift protocol. We haven't been invited to a gathering that isn't on Shabbat, so the choices appear to be: take the gift to the synagogue or take it to their house sometime later. I'll probably tell Dani to put it in the car (I'm walking for the earlier service; he'll meet me for the late service) but leave it in the car until we see what other people are doing. Just goes to show that there are some things you don't learn in classes. :-)

I have a gazillion LJ codes; if anyone reading this needs one, just say so.

This morning went differently than I had expected. ( Read more... )

I'm still working out the culinary subtleties of Shabbat lunch. ( Read more... )

( Friday, featuring halacha of organ donation )

Saturday the 20s/30s group held an afternoon gathering -- a combination of study, socializing, getting to know each other, prayer, and singing. It was really nifty. (I was joking with the organizer Friday night about how I'm participating as much as I can with that group now, because in September I become inelligible. We joked about "happy 40th birthday -- now scram". :-) )

( prayer, golden calves, and various discussions )

Thursday night at the board meeting the organizer asked me if I could lead havdalah, as both rabbis would have to leave before then. (It went something like this: "Do you know the havdalah service?" "Sure, I do it every week." "Great, could you do it for us this week?") Friday night she asked me if I could also lead bentching, the grace after meals (the afternoon included the customary third meal of Shabbat). Both of these went well (got compliments, even), and I learned that in the case of music, sometimes chutzpah can substitute for knowledge. Specifically, I had forgotten the melody to part of the bentching, so I just made something up on the fly and people sang along. I know they hadn't heard the melody before, because I hadn't heard the melody before either. :-)

Some of the people there weren't familiar with havdalah, so I ended up giving a little talk about the symbolism before we did it. So ok, I can stand up in front of a small group of sympathetic friends and lecture, but I'm still very uncomfortable teaching classes more formally. Weird.

The afternoon shared many elements with our morning minyan's annual Shabbaton (retreat for all of Shabbat, not just the afternoon). That's coming up again in May, and I'm really looking forward to it.

I realized this morning that this spring I'm chanting Torah twice, and neither is at my synagogue. I have to pester my rabbi again about getting a shot at that. (I'm chanting a little for that women's service I mentioned a few days ago, and I just got permission to chant my "birthday" portion on a Thursday at Tree of Life again this year. Last year I did the first two aliyot; my goal for this year is to be able to do all three. For this portion, the third is a little longer than the first two put together.)

Today was the Great Race, which starts pretty much in front of our house. I can live with the necessary sound, once a year, of a few thousand people getting set up to run a race. However, blasting music for more than an hour (starting at 8am) at volume levels that would get me cited for disorderly conduct if they came from my house is inappropriate. I wonder who the correct body is to complain to. (City council?)

I guess this race just has bad karma for me or something. In 1999, the first year we lived here, Dani and I got tickets (and threat of towing; someone rang the bell at 7am) for being parked on the street. The "no parking" signs were apparently invisible that year in our block. Dani paid the ticket; I went to traffic court and the judge dismissed it. (After: "And how long have you lived in Squirrel Hill?" "We moved into the house 10 days before this happened." "Ok, dismissed. Just so you know, they do this every year and they're not real good about signs." I didn't ask if there was something the courts could do about that deficiency.)

( Simchat Torah )