Sweet Dreams

B"H,

Don't Let The Bed Bugs Bite!



No one in my family ever sleeps at night.  They go on fantastic adventures.  They return to schools of unknown sorts.  They travel to other continents and even to other worlds.  They visit hell.  They talk to the dead and to the living.  They make so much noise at night in their dream world waves that I cannot sleep.  And so, I listen to their nocturnal scripts again and again and again. 

My son squeals with delight, "wheeeeee, whoooo-haaaah, wow!"

He laughs and giggles while he calls out for more space ships, again and again.  My daughter sings and dances with butterflies and fairies and a pig named Mercy.  My poor husband, sleep deprived for decades, barely chokes out the words, "help me!"  It is so desperate in tone and inflection I want to cry but I don't.  I tell myself it is only a dream. 

Bows of Dough

B"H

Remember...

Bubbe Pheema was still in her sixties cooking and baking storms of magnificent meals as well as sewing up outfits to fulfill our wildest dreams and fantasies.  

"So, you want to look like somebody else? Pass me the carrots please."  The sound of the grater gives a shimmer to the moment.  "Don't forget the raisins; we want a sweet year, the sweetness of good health, please G_d.  I need that dish."  Grated carrots, handful of raisins, and something else, who knows what, goes into the dish.  "Sure, I'll sew for you.  Move, I need the chopping block."  Onions and potatoes minced and mixed and poured into the sizzling skillet.  "Bring me a picture."  Hard cooked eggs appear from the deep sink.  "Start peeling, then chop them.  Whoever heard of Purim everyday?" The big spoon scrapes and stirs the onions and potatoes.  Everything is beginning to look golden.  "What colors do you want, mein bubbeleh*?  The magazine is black and white.  One thing, it's important.  I pick the fabric.  That's all I ask.  Okay?  Come Thursday morning, early, when you bring me my Shabbos chickens.  Oy, America, chickens without feathers, what a mechayeh!  I give you two dresses, one from your picture and one for Shabbos and yontif.  I give you teyglech for your mameh.  It should be ready by then.  I give you blessings for a good inscription!  What a book, this Book of Life!  The good L-rd, oy, He should give us copies.  Maybe we'd be more prepared."

Far Fom Home

B"H, 

NO PITY, Always Move Forward

Euphemia  and Sara were best friends.  For eight long years they apprenticed themselves to a fine dressmaker in London.  Now they boarded at the same ladies' rooming house in Sydney, Australia.  All of the Jewish seamstresses boarded with Raizel Blumberg.  Their work was hard but the times were exciting.  Raizel took good care of these young women so far from home and the watchful eyes of loving parents.  She even tried to be a matchmaker when her boarding house gave her a few moments.  

Saturday evening, the corset, and a "bissel* schnaps"

B"H, 

The Corset

My Bubbe* Pheema would stay with us every Saturday night.  Mom and Dad would go out.  Sometimes Cousin Dalyah would join my sister Rina and me.  I remember a moment in the evening while we were getting ready for bed.  I was already in my nightgown.  Bubbe Pheema was changing for the evening, too.  She had taken off her dress.  We were standing near the closet because she was placing the garment carefully on a sculpted wooden hanger.  In the next few seconds she would have the whole thing, hanger and dress, nicely situated in the closet for the night.  Then the most amazing transformation occurred.  Bubbe Pheema began to undo her corset (see Short history of Corsets).  It was a magnificent garment made by her very hands.