What To Do?

My husband decided early this morning that he must drive back to our home town to protect our house there during Hurricane Sandy.  I said, “No way!” and now he’s fuming mad at me.

The thing is, I’m not sure there is much he can do.  If a tree crashes through our roof or a window, and flooding commences, what then?  We don’t have plywood sheets or the tools to secure the house.  “I can use a tarp!” he said, but a tarp isn’t going to hold up in 80mph winds.    “I can call a contractor!” he said.  But any and every contractor is going to have a very, very long waiting list.  A roofer?  Forget it.  “But if I don’t go now, then it will be an extra two days at least before I can get there because we’ll have to deal with the storm’s wake up here, and driving will be difficult.”  That is true. And it may be impossible to get enough gasoline along the route – service stations are already crowded with people filling up before the storm.  Water, flashlights and batteries are already stripped from the stores from Virginia to Massachusetts, as is most non-perishable food – – our son posted a picture of our hometown’s local supermarket on his Facebook page showing the shelves completely bare. They’re closing bridges tonight . . . for who knows how long.

If the damage is going to happen, it’s going to happen, unfortunately.  “I think this is a horrible mistake!” he shouted, “and I only hope to G-d that we won’t have to live with the ramifications of your decision.”

I hope so, too.

Frankly, besides the damage, I am concerned about looters.  But I also don’t feel particularly good about him defending our house solo, even if he’s armed.  The point is, there is no “good” outcome here, and we just have to daven that HaShem will help us and keep our children and grandchildren safe, along with their homes and ours.

It’s really, really tough and scary to not be in control.  And that is what things like this force us to see:  we can’t always be in control, and beyond our basic  human efforts of hishtadlus, we have to daven and leave it up to HaShem.  Do you think I’m being naive or callous or cold-hearted?  Let me know your thoughts.

Let’s hope that terrible times will bring out the best in people, and not the worst.  Now that is something that is in each individual’s power.

It Worked For Me

From the October 23, 2012 Wall Street Journal:

Viewing or spending time in nature has been shown in numerous studies to alter people’s physical and emotional response to stress.

A review of 120 studies published in 2009 in the International Journal of Public Health found that time spent in parks, gardens, or waterfront or wilderness settings was associated with more positive feelings, lower pulse rates, and other markers of well-being.  Researches have long known that mood and anxiety disorders are more common among city dwellers.

A brain-imaging study last year in Nature suggested that living close to nature alters the brain’s response to stressful challenges.  When compared with people who live in rural settings, city-dwellers subjected to stress show more activation of the amygdala, which processes emotions.

People who have been raised in cities also show greater activation of the cingulate cortex, which helps regulate the amygdala and process emotions, compared with participants raised in the country.

In a 2o1o study by Japanese researchers, subjects who walked through a forest posted lower blood pressure, pulse rate and stress-hormone levels than those who toured a city.

Researchers believe nature offers pleasant, refreshing stimuli that help people find meaning or a sense of identity, without imposing stressful challenges or distractions.

Goodnight, Moon

I took this photo of tonight’s moon

Autumn Beauty

This view is an easy seven-minute walk from my front door. (click to enlarge)

Even though we missed “peak” foliage season (by the time we got back to Maine after the Jewish holidays, the reds were long gone and now we’re down to a few golds but mostly browns), there is still much beauty all around.  Yesterday I started walking my daily 2-mile loop and for some reason, I decided to turn down a leafy path I had never before visited.  It led to an area that held many surprises:  magnificent mountain views, evidence of summer bear activity, and a rushing offshoot of the Cold Brook River.  Starting next week I will have to wear my blaze orange vest so the hunters won’t mistake me for a deer, but meanwhile, all is quiet and peaceful.  The beauty here never ceases to amaze me and fill me with wonder.  Sometimes, even shifting as little as 3′ provides a completely different perspective and view, which of course is also affected by light patterns, weather, and the seasonal changes.  It’s great to look at the same thing but see something new and different each time.

Enthralled by yesterday’s views, I encouraged my husband to join me the following day, and this time I brought my tripod and 2 lenses so I could get an even more beautiful shot.  Alas, the overnight winds had thinned the trees, and the color of the leaves that were left had greatly faded.  So here’s a little mussar lesson:  there might be another opportunity tomorrow, or the next season, or the next year  . . . but there might not.  We don’t necessarily get second chances.  So appreciate the day that you are given, embrace it, and give thanks to G-d.

Tai Chi

Today I did something really fun:  I went to a tai chi class!  This gentle form of exercise was recommended to me for my osteoporosis, as it helps balance, posture, and can prevent falls.  It was held the next town over, sponsored by the recreation department, and was completely free of charge.  In the summer it’s held in the park, but now that temperatures are cooler it’s held in the town’s basketball gym.  Forty-two people (including the instructor) showed up, and other than one 30 year-old woman, I was the youngest one there!  Imagine 40 people between the ages of 60-80 moving silently and gracefully with great balance and coordination.  It was an interesting mix of people, including preppy-looking WASPs who looked as though they had stepped right out of an LLBean catalog, as well as many old, tough “Mainuhs” who in their younger days might have considered tai chi “weird” or “for sissies.”  But several of the attendees simply could not do more strenuous exercise due to severe arthritis and past injuries; and despite that they wanted to keep moving and tai chi was within their realm of possibility.  Many of the ladies who were formerly stiff and sore and crippled by arthritis and osteoporosis were now spry, agile, and once again able to enjoy working in their gardens, following several months of practicing tai chi.  It also provided the crowd an opportunity to socialize, especially for those who live in more isolated areas outside of town.

There are 108 different “moves” or segments in tai chi, and they are done from start to finish in a particular order.  Since this class was intended for newbies, we learned only three of the moves today.  But afterwards, the more experienced class members (about 35 people) stayed to do the entire segment, which takes about 20 minutes.  How the heck they remembered the order, much less the intricacy of the moves themselves, is beyond belief.  I’m lucky to remember more than two or three things in sequence, much less 108!

I guess someone’s “Jewdar” was operating because one elderly gentleman approached and asked me if I was a “sister” – a member of the Tribe.  He hails originally from New York and said, “I couldn’t wait to get the h*** out of there.”  When his kids left home, he retired to a small home in Maine.  I asked him if he’d like to join us for Shabbat dinner and he said, “I would love to, but I have to tell you – – my wife isn’t Jewish and so I don’t know if you would still want us to come.”

I gave him my phone number and left the rest up to him.

Worming My Way to My Inner Fish

Summer 2012 on one of the many nearby lakes

I can’t explain it, but I just know I am going to catch a fish today.  The lake is big but something draws me to a particular spot.  It’s as though a bas kol (heavenly voice) is calling down to me:  “Here, right here!  This is the spot!”

Fishing is a mixed blessing, a combination of patience and anticipation; horror and joy; morbidity and sustenance.

I still don’t enjoy picking up a squirming worm.  And despite those who say worms don’t have feelings, I know that cannot be so because I have felt its initial flinch and stab of pain with the first prick and then impalement onto the fishing hook.  And then I must continue threading it on the hook, jabbing the poor worm again and again.  Meanwhile as  I’m perpetuating this cruelty, I am surrounded by clear blue waters – – so clear I can see 15′ – 20′ beneath my boat – – a deep blue sky with the puffiest, cotton-white clouds, and verdant mountains ringing a lake so private that I’m its only human visitor on this day.  Disgust mixed with profound beauty.

And then, while paddling silently, gliding along the glassy water with only the slightest breeze, my fishing rod stuck in its holder just behind the kayak seat, the line let out several tens of feet – – there is a small nearly imperceptible shudder and the rod begins to arc.  I know it’s not because I’ve picked up some lake weeds or am stuck on a buried rock outcropping, because the line grows taut and then slack and then taut again with a staccato-like rhythm, and as I lift the rod and grab the reel and begin to wind, I feel the give-and-take, give-and-take, subtle at first, of the fish’s nibble.  If I reel it in too quickly or too slowly, the fish will not catch properly on the hook, and he’ll swim away (and sometimes sneakily grab a few bites of the worm in the process).  No, we have to do this dance of life and death, struggle and exhaustion, triumph and defeat.

When I catch the fish and pull him out of the water, I see he is tired – he has fought hard both for the worm and from the hook and death.  His gills flex in and out, as though he is panting, struggling to breathe.  He lays very still in my net, but no, he has a second, and then a third wind, and fights the net, my hands, and evades my grasp as I try to remove the hook.  Some of his fins prove to be painfully sharp – his only body armor of defense.

He seems robust in girth but not in length.  Alas, he measures approximately 12″ – not bad, but according to fishing regulations he must be at least 14″ if I want to enjoy him for dinner.  Removing the hook, I let him float in the net that I’ve placed back in the water, allowing him to slowly recover from the stress of imminent death.  I open the net and at first I wonder if I’ve waited too long – he seems too still.  But no:  he is suddenly re-energized and dashes back into the lake’s depths and freedom.

“I will come back for you next year,” I tell him, “when you are yet bigger.  And then we’ll see.”  I feel sorry that I couldn’t eat him, because I don’t like the concept of “catch and release” for the sake of “sport” – it stresses and plays with an animal for “fun.”  I want to experience the entire process of catching, killing, cleaning and eating the fish, because I want to appreciate life, death, and sacrifice.  I want to know if I have it in me to kill.  I am not sure that I do.  I know I feel conflicted with regret and relief as he is released.  Do we really appreciate the profundity of a fish’s sacrifice (“so that we may live”) and, for that matter, God’s gift of sustenance, if we buy a plastic-wrapped fish in the market, so far removed from its source?

I continue paddling, and once again feel a nibble.  Not as strong – I figure it’s the same dumb fish but he’s simply more tired – – but when I reel it in I see it’s an even smaller fish, only 9″ long, and I throw him back immediately.  Fishing is kind of like gambling, I decide.  It’s somewhat distasteful yet exciting.  The odds are against you.  But when you win . . .

There’s always the anticipation of a win, no matter how unrealistic.  Nature, in this case, is the House, and as we all know, the House always (well mostly always) wins.  But not enough to stop me from trying to beat the odds.

I set out again. And again.  Only the coming dark has the power to make me call it a day.

I’ve since caught land-locked salmon, perch, brown trout and bass.  None were “keepers” – legally  large enough to become dinner.  It appears the only fish I will be eating anytime soon will be coming from a can.

It’s funny, this late in my life, to see how fishing has suddenly cast its spell upon me.  When a brown trout succeeds in sneakily nibbling the worm off my hook without getting caught, I see there are two ways of looking at it:  I’m not going to let some stupid fish outsmart me!  Or, maybe I don’t know everything and I have a lot more to learn . . . even from a small fish.  It’s humbling.  Thank you, G-d.

Farm Stands

The farm stand at Silver Fox Farm on Corn Shop Road on the ME-NH border

When you live in a rural place and the nearest supermarket is 35 – 45 minutes away, you tend to have a lot of emergency rations stored in mouse-proof containers.  You make a marketing list with a week’s worth of food garnered from a week’s worth of menus that  have been thoughtfully planned.  Although this may sound daunting (I seem to go nearly every day to my supermarket in my hometown, since I’m much less organized and it’s just around the corner), when you realize that it costs $10 in gas every time you make the trip, it quickly motivates you to become more sensible.

But it’s not difficult for me to pop over to several nearby farm stands.  All are located on private farms; some may be little more than a lean-to and others are quaint wooden buildings complete with a wide front porch. One has to wonder how it is possible for some of them to make a profit in today’s world of large-scale agri-industry. The answer appears to be diversify, diversify, diversify, even on a small scale, and become social-media savvy.  Most have websites and Facebook pages of their own, and one farm even had a Groupon with a 50% off coupon.There are farms that have children’s activities, hay rides, and special Halloween celebrations.   Some have full-fledged kitchens that whip up artisan breads and heavenly-smelling fruit and pumpkin pies and other baked goods.  This time of year there is also fresh apple cider.  Usually the proprietor is too busy working the farm to stick around waiting for customers, so they leave a cigar box where you leave money for your purchases and you can make your own change.  Some of the farms offer a pick-you-own option for apples and pumpkins.

The cash box at Five Fields Farm

Yesterday I went to Five Fields Farm to see if they had any  “drops.”  When apples fall to the ground before they can be hand-picked, they may bruise slightly and lose market value.  The “drops” are sold for pennies on the dollar, but they make great cider, applesauce, and are perfect for drying into apple chips with the dehydrator that my younger son and daughter-in-law bought me.  (Actually I used the dehydrator for the very first time today.  I made beef jerky from some pepper steak I had brought from my home town.  It is delicious!).  Last year I bought 150 lbs. of apples and made many, many jars of unsweetened applesauce which I gave away as gifts, but this year I don’t feel quite so ambitious.

Five Fields Farm in Bridgton, Maine

When their orchards lie dormant in winter,  Five Fields Farm uses the fields for dog sledding and skijoring races as well as cross-country ski trails.

I took this picture in January 2010 when we attended some dog sled and skijoring races at Five Fields Farm. The temperature was 6 degrees F (certain things you remember!)

Today I went to Pie Tree Orchards where I bought some delicious organic Northern Spy apples.

Northern Spy Apples

This “heirloom” apple variety is extremely cold-hardy (necessary for Maine winters) and originates in Maine.  It’s rarely found outside of New England.  It’s a hard, crispy, sweet-tart apple that is packed with juicy goodness.  Pie Tree Orchards also sells many unique squashes and pumpkins, plus kale and various root vegetables picked straight from the garden.

Then I went to another local farm:  Silver Fox Farm.  It is one of the most picturesque, nestled in a valley surrounded by the White Mountains.   In addition to fresh eggs, a remarkable pumpkin patch, and the largest selection of weird and wonderful squash varieties I’ve never seen elsewhere, they also raise shire draft horses.  (By the way, all the eggs sold in Maine are brown-shelled.  When I asked why it’s so hard to find the white-shelled eggs, I was told that the variety of chicken that lays the brown-shelled eggs is much hardier and can better withstand the Maine winters than the type of chickens that lay the white-shelled eggs.  Unfortunately, it is quite common to find blood spots in fresh farm eggs, so I always have to buy double the amount I actually need since I end up discarding the ones with the blood spots for kashrus reasons.)

Adjacent to the  pumpkin patch, Angus cattle (raised for beef) were playing with and eating discarded pumpkins that were not fit for market.  They were pushing the pumpkins around on the ground with their noses, kind of like “nose soccer.”

Cattle playing “nose soccer” with discarded squash and pumpkins

Does anyone know what kind of squash this is? If so please write in. It’s salmon-colored, the same shape as spaghetti squash, but larger.

Delicata squash used to be hard to find, but due to its well-justified popularity, you might find some at your local supermarket or farm stand. If you do find it, grab it! It’s sweeter, creamier and more custard-like than butternut squash, and it will soon become your all-time favorite squash!

Then there is Sherman Farm.  This is a large farm that is renowned for its milk, vegetables, and a 12-acre corn maze that has a different theme every year.  People come from all over New England to wind their way through their famous corn maize. Perhaps you are old enough to remember when milk came in glass bottles.  Well, it still does at Sherman Farm!  I’ve done a blind “taste test” of milk from Sherman Farm and the supermarket, and not only can I tell the difference; Sherman Farm’s milk is far superior.  Sherman Farm also gives back to the community.  During harvest season, volunteers descend onto the fields and pick hundreds, and sometimes thousands of pounds of surplus produce, which is donated to local food banks.  The August 2012 harvest yielded 10,678 lbs of fresh surplus produce picked with a value of $27,910 and it served 15,617 meals!  In the summer of 2011 during Hurricane Irene, the low-lying farm was flooded and lost the majority of its crops.  The surrounding communities gave money, time, manpower and materials to help rebuild Sherman Farm.

Today’s lunch was so colorful I just had to take a picture. Clockwise from top left: 1/4 c. Trader Joe’s Wild Rice (to which I added toasted pecans, dried cranberries, rosemary and thyme); 1/4 c. mashed squash from the farm stand, with a dash of Maine maple syrup; salmon patty with a dash of wasabe sauce; and 1 1/2 c. spinach-kale salad with Israeli feta from Trader Joe’s, plus an olive oil vinagrette dressing. Yum!

GMOs: Trick or Treat?

Not long ago I began subscribing to an online newsletter by nutritionist Wendy Vigdor-Hess.  She used to work at Johns Hopkins’ Integrative Medicine Clinic, but to my disappointment she moved to Virginia, where she gives seminars on various wellness-related  material and does nutritional counseling.

I received an online newsletter this week from her entitled “Happy Halloween” in which she came down very hard on candy (she is completely against corn syrup, soy lecithin, and sugar) and is especially upset with GMOs, which in case you don’t know, stands for Genetically Modified Organisms.  While there are many suspicions that GMOs are responsible for poor digestive health and unusual allergies in certain individuals, it has been very hard to prove these allegations despite various studies, which have been mostly inconclusive.  Proposition 37, which will be voted on in the November elections in California, is a labeling law that will require all packaged food manufacturers to state whether their products contain GMOs.

So what is an example of a GMO?  Any seed that has been genetically modified in any way:  e.g. to resist bugs so possibly less pesticides will be necessary;  to resist drought so that crops will improve their yield in challenging conditions.  However, as big businesses such as Monsanto have “patented” their seeds, they have basically monopolized the seed business at the expense of “heirloom” varieties which have all but become extinct.  For those who fear that the rise in food-related allergies (i.e peanut allergies, gluten intolerance, etc.) and sinister illnesses may somehow be related to GMOs, it is difficult for them to avoid products that contain them without the special labeling they seek.  And this is only the tip of the iceberg . . . there is so much, much more about the GMO controversy (both pro and con) that time and space prevent me from further elaboration within this post.

The following excerpt is a letter to an editor of the Times-Standard, a newspaper in Northern California:

“I was undecided on Proposition 37, the genetically modified organism labeling initiative. Now I’m voting against it.

70 percent to 80 percent of our food contains at least some genetically modified ingredients. Since the vast majority contains GMOs, we can assume they’re GMOs unless told otherwise.

Isn’t it backwards to label the majority of foods with something we should already know? Makes more sense to label foods that are different. Some producers already label their products “GMO free.” Let them expand that practice and let what’s already working, work.

Proposition 37 is also ripe for lawsuit abuse. Grocers would have to know where their products came from, what’s in them and have paperwork to back it up. You can bet certain lawyers are taking a close look at how to make a fast buck with this.

Proponents’ arguments usually include an attack on companies that produce GMO ingredients and that’s what this is really about: a slap at big business. They cite many issues with GMOs — some real, some imagined — but this initiative does nothing to address those. It’s simply to harass businesses. Vote NO on Prop 37.”

As for myself, I am trying to understand both sides of the issue and am undecided as to how I would vote (I do not live in California so in any case it’s a moot point for me personally).  I do feel suspicious of GMOs but my “feelings” are anecdotal and certainly not scientific.  What I do know is that we Americans are eating a lot of crap, and it’s killing us slowly – – and  not so slowly.  But when I hear financially comfortable people brag about their all-organic food supply I cannot help but feel some disgust:  of course people who are poor eat highly processed food!  Why wouldn’t they, when they can afford to feed a family of five with dinner at McDonald’s for a fraction of what it would cost to have a “healthy” meal?  So while I personally, at this phase in my life, am trying very hard to eat healthier, I do it not only because I want to – – but because I can.  Not everyone has that luxury, and I certainly would not be able to spend big bucks on organic produce on my husband’s current salary (while paying Jewish Day School tuition) if I was raising my four children all over again!

But back to Wendy Vigdor-Hess.  In her newsletter she said something that greatly offended me, and I wrote her to politely express my dismay.  She suggested that for Halloween, people should boycott Hershey, Godiva, Nestle and M&Ms candy makers this year during Halloween, because

“THESE COMPANIES MAY (emphasis mine) HAVE GMOs IN THEIR CANDY (yes, sad for those who love them; hopefully if Proposition 37 passes and we see labeling of GMOs we will find otherwise.):  CONSIDER BOYCOTTING THEM THIS YEAR TIL WE KNOW FOR SURE OR THERE IS REFORMULATION?”

Whoa.

“Wait a minute here,” I wrote back to her.  “Since when do we enact a boycott against companies until we have all the facts?  They *may* use GMOs – – but we don’t *know* that for sure.  In the good ol’ US of A, the last I heard, a person (or corporation) is innocent until proven guilty!”  And why target only those four companies, when there are so many candy companies in the US selling junk food during Halloween?

To her credit, Wendy Vigdor-Hess responded almost immediately, informing me that she would send an addendum to her newsletter restating her thoughts (while we both agreed that in fact the companies probably do use products with GMOs since basically all non-organic corn and soy is genetically modified in the US).   As I stated in my letter to her,

“I appreciate your willingness to restate it differently (I’m no fan of candy companies either, btw!)  I’m just so very tired of so much black and white and not enough gray in terms of people’s attitudes.  People are very emotionally reactive (and yes, in today’s world there is a lot to get excited about).  People have VERY strong feelings these days about just about everything, and whether justified or not, it seems to be affecting so much common decency, respect and tolerance – and I’m speaking about both the Right and the Left!  And this seems not only to be a problem in the US, but worldwide.  Sigh.  I guess we can only strive to be kind, try to remain independent thinkers, and pass that on to our kids, in hopes for a better tomorrow.”

Okay, anyone who knows me in real life must be thinking, since when did I get so maudlin?  But the truth is, I am very dismayed to see the polarization of people in the US as a result of politics and media influence, and the general nastiness in people which seems to have taken over (to which I am thankfully oblivious here in rural Maine in my little rose-colored utopia).  Anyway, here is the revised newsletter that Wendy -Hess sent to her readership:

“Greetings again to all!  I am writing again so soon to highlight a few points that I stated in my last newsletter.  A reader wrote back to me with some great points that are worth mentioning.

1.  Soy and corn are two of the most genetically modified foods on the planet today.  I have discussed this in other writings and on the podcast as well.  This said, most candy contains high fructose corn syrup, soy lecithin or other ingredients containing corn and/or soy.  What can you do?

a.  Check labels for corn and soy ingredients (or other common names for these foods). In my book, I have lists of many common names for soy and corn and the products where they are commonly found.  If the corn and soy listed on the label are not organic, it is likely they contain GMOs.  There is no way to know for sure without labeling for GMOs but the possibility remains.  This also includes sugar or cane sugar since sugar beets have also been genetically modified and it is difficult to know which labels that state sugar are GMO sugar from sugar beets or from other sources.

This is not meant to be a downer, more just to provide information for you.  As the reader shared (point sincerely taken), we cannot presume someone guilty before found innocent.  There are more companies than the 4 mentioned that potentially use GMO ingredients.  The reason I chose to highlight and list the four candy companies in my last newsletter is because they have not supported passing Proposition 37; a question remains as to why.  If you are interested in reading more and/or seeing a chart outlining more about the organic industry, please visit http://www.cornucopia.org.  There is also information to learn more about the companies who support and who oppose the passing of this important proposition.  Again, to be clear, this doesn’t explicitly say who is using GMOs and who isn’t; this is just a guide to provide you with more information and to perhaps investigate this issue more thoroughly.  Hopefully, after you review this, you’ll have no “tricks”, only “treats” in knowing truth and then you can decide for yourself.

b.  For Halloween, there are “treats” to give out other than candy (as written in the earlier email). There is also candy that is made without GMO corn and soy if that is of more interest to you.  If the verbiage (and/or reality) of “boycotting” certain companies seems to be mean-spirited or negative to you, find a way to keep the “treats of the holiday” in integrity with your values.

My intention in writing on this topic stems from a deep love of the earth and a passion for raising healthy children so that our earth and children will thrive for many generations to come. Remaining firm and vigilant in our pursuit for a loving world comes with opposition and many different charged emotions.

There is never one right answer, there are many ways and many roads.  Allow the light of your truth to flicker in your heart to see how you can kindly reach answers for yourself while hearing your friends, neighbors and others who may not agree.  Saying YES to Proposition 37 doesn’t change your freedom of choice, it only provides you with more information to make decisions that work best for you.

Our opinions matter.  If the reader hadn’t written to me to share her thoughts, I likely wouldn’t have written this addendum.  She made a difference and so can you!  It takes courage to change your spending habits. Choose differently when called to, and voice your opinion even if unsure of how it will be received.  NOW IS THE TIME.  Peaceful resolution is possible as is change.  If our cells are changing all of the time, we can consciously choose to change too.

To the reader who shared her thoughts, I thank you for caring enough to speak your truth.  It highlights this time so well.  We may all feel charged and passionate about our truth and even if it doesn’t agree with someone elses, we can strive for a peaceful resolution.  Perhaps even no resolution but at least hearing each other is the biggest lesson learned.  If you are interested in at least supporting labeling for GMOs or shopping with that in mind, here are some resources for you:

http://www.fooddemocracynow.org
http://www.responsibletechnology.org
http://www.nongmoshoppingguide.com
http://www.nongmoproject.org”

Please do exercise your privilege to vote in this election, and don’t take it lightly.  But let’s also try to be nice to one another,  okay?

Pretty please.

Insomnia

I have never been a good sleeper (my mother  a’h said that even as a small child, I never wanted to miss anything going on, and would stay up into the wee hours).  But as I age, my insomnia seems to be getting progressively worse.  I’ve tried  herbal and nutritional supplements, melatonin, Benadryl, Zzzquil and Nyquil (the latter works the best but I don’t want to take it on a regular basis because I’m a zombie the next morning, and it has a high alcohol content).  My doctor would not prescribe Ambien, and I found the sounds on a self-hypnosis relaxation tape to be annoying.  Even if I do manage to eventually fall asleep, I often awaken in the night and then remain awake for hours and hours.

Someone said my problem is “too much chatter” which totally makes sense to me.  My mind is always, always working and doesn’t know when to shut itself off.  As I stare up towards the ceiling or toss and turn, I am thinking of that day’s events, sights, sounds, smells; politics, relationships, Israel; health, the meaning of life; and from there I go off into some pretty crazy tangents.  Last night at 4 a.m. I knew I had hit bottom when I came up with the following halachic shayla (question of Jewish Law):

A right-handed person has a terrible accident and loses his  right leg, G-d forbid.  He  gets a natural-looking prosthesis.  Which shoe does he  put on first, the right or left?  (According to kabbala, one is supposed to put the right shoe on first – – but what if it’s not a real foot?)

I mean, come on!  Where the heck does my brain get this stuff, anyway????

(P.S.  If you know the answer to the shoe question, be sure to write in!)

When Fall Comes To New England

Folk singer Cheryl Wheeler wrote an extremely beautiful song that perfectly describes October in the White Mountains.  If you’d like to hear her sing it, here is the link:

When fall comes to New England 
The sun slants in so fine 
And the air's so clear you can almost hear
The grapes grow on the vine 

The nights are sharp with starlight 
And the days are cool and clean 
And in the blue sky overhead 
The northern geese fly south instead 
And leaves are Irish setter red 
When fall comes to New England 

When fall comes to New England 
And the wind blows off the sea 
Swallows fly in a perfect sky 
And the world was meant to be 

When the acorns line the walkways 
Then winter can't be far 
From yellow leaves a blue jay calls 
Grandmothers walk out in their shawls
And chipmunks run the old stone walls 
When fall comes to New England 

The frost is on the pumpkin 
The squash is off the vine 
And winter warnings race across the sky 
The squirrels are on to something 
And they're working overtime 
The foxes blink and stare and so do I 

'Cause when fall comes to New England 
Oh I can't turn away 
From fading light on flying wings 
And late good-byes a robin sings 
And then another thousand things 
When fall comes to New England
When fall comes to New England