knick·knacks & bric-a-brac

It's February and the middle-finger on my right hand has a crack in it. It's normal. But it feels like if I use my finger for anything other than extending my middle-finger to the world then there is pain. Bending hurts.
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On February 12th I saw a post from Avi's mom, Laurie. Pain. It reminded me so much of the middle of the night phone call. The one you never want to get.

And it reminded me of the envelope of money. The contents of Avi's pockets that I still have in my basement office. I told my good friend Jeff. (I don't talk to him. I hate talking on the phone. He talks to his mom twice a day. His brother every day or two. I hate the phone. We text. About 1400 times a month. Text me whenever 240-328-3676) So I told Jeff about the envelope. And about the shoe and the pants and the blood that I threw away. He asked, he's a writer, they ask, he asked why I don't do something with it? Give it away as Arthur asked me to?

I don't know.
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There was a massive windstorm yesterday. It blew away the curious clouds of vapor that came off the coating of snow. The vapor came because the air was so hot that the snow didn't know what to do. It vaporized.

The windstorm knocked out our power. So my kids watched a DVD and I read on my Kindle and the power was out.

And then Gavriel texted me. Gavriel wants to know if you can drink beer while sitting Shiva? Because when your 43 year-old big sister dies of natural causes you sit Shiva. When Jenny, who was blind and challenged and had brain tumors has been robbed of perseverance and dies alone and isn't found for two days you wonder if you are allowed to drink beer during Shiva.

And if you are Gavriel's best friend and the teacher of his two daughters and formerly the teacher of his son you do your damnedest to answer. Fuck power failures. Halakha is important.

Rav Ovadia said that you can drink hard liquor but not in excess so as to cause, God-forbid, drunkenness or happiness. Ashkenazi poskim don't seem to write about it. But when you have 5 minutes and no power and your best friend whose 43 year old big sister died wants a beer you make a decision.
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On Facebook:
Janet: My two kids slept with flashlights under their pillows last night.
Mordechai: Mine slept with candles under their pillows.
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We are moving and I'm looking for a job.

Our landlord wants to sell his house and so we are moving. We are staying in Sharon and moving into a smaller joint. It's nice. Clean. Very bright. But no study/office for me and that is concerning as we are 6 people.

And everytime I pack up my books I remember the first time I did and how I felt that all the rebbes were in exile, trapped in a box, in a container. And I worried about them. And myself without them.

And I don't have a job for next year. And I feel really good. But I need to feed my family. And when I mentioned that on The Facebook lots of people told me to be a cook and that prompted Gavriel (before Jenny died) to ask me if I felt weird about people telling me to cook. And it didn't. Cuz I'm not a poet and I can't sing. I talk pretty good. But I can't draw a lick.

I can cook and I'm whole with that and empowered by having an art. And pictures.
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The Still Point Inducer reminds me of a chocolate mold my mom had when I was a kid. It involved a naked torso of a woman.

Somehow it was more tasteful when my mom made them when I was 8.
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And Jeff texted me about the packing and asked how it was going. And I said, "well we don't have much knick-knacks or bric-a-brac. But we do have a large collection of Nickleback."

And he laughed outloud in the waiting room of his therapist's office. And I wondered if people thought he was crazy.

I hoped they did and wondered about themselves even more.
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I read all the posts. And I want to thank you for sharing.

I love being in your lives in small ways. Seeing your striped hairs, your racially discharged jokes about the Republicans and the President, and your adventures with large animals on the Savanah, and your successes on so many fields of play.
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I'm growing up soon. I hope I can model that for you all. Keep playing. Keep goofing.