Or perhaps breakfast, local standard time. After two excruciating years, almost to the day, the 48 remaining hostages are set to be coming home. We are waiting, and praying, with … Continue reading Hope: it’s what’s for dinner?
Or perhaps breakfast, local standard time. After two excruciating years, almost to the day, the 48 remaining hostages are set to be coming home. We are waiting, and praying, with … Continue reading Hope: it’s what’s for dinner?
A friend of mine recently shared this poem on her Facebook page, in the context of thinking about the High Holidays (Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, and the week in … Continue reading Wild Geese.
I’m at a point with both the state of the world at large and the state of my affairs personally that I am leaning. Hardcore. Leaning, lest I be crushed … Continue reading Leaning.
Recently, I was getting back into the car with my kid after a breakfast outing, and she said something like, “Hey Mom, I got into my car seat all by … Continue reading Pray for peace.