Just Practicing

Not-So-Sukkatastic

Well, that was fun.

I put down my computer and rebuilt the sukkah. This time, I pounded the poles into the ground a good 6 inches, and it hasn't fallen down since.

So, if you are interested in building this not-so-good-for-wind-or-weather sukkah, here are the rest of the instructions, picking up from where we left off:

Finish banging the 4 tall poles into the ground. As you are done with each pole, place (or force) a garden s-hook into the top of the bamboo pole.

Then, to make sure things fit, pick up the poles that created your outline and set them into the hooks. So that they are level, choose which two poles (the 6ft or 8ft) will be on the bottom on each side of the sukkah.

When you are done with this step, it should look like this:

If everything seems to work, you can then take the back and side poles down. Fold about 3-4 inches of the fabric you are using over the pole and pin the fabric to itself (creating a sleeve). You might consider sewing this if you'll be doing it every year. After all the 3 pieces of fabric are pinned to the poles, put them back up on the hooks. Use your string to tie the horizontal & vertical poles and s-hooks together.

Then take your ladder inside the structure and bring the trellis up through the middle and place it on top. I put it on there diagonally because I thought it looked better and was sturdier. If the string makes you happy, time the trellis into place, too.

(Note: for those pieces of fabric that wrap around the front, I tore a big cloth in have vertically and just used 2 pins each to pin each strip to the top corner of the structure.)

Now all you have to do is trim your trees and bushes and throw some branches on the trellis and move in some furniture and viola! Sukkah!

(Chickens are optional.)

Sukkatastic! (Or, how I built a sukkah for under $40)

There's still a lot to talk about with Yom Kippur, but it's hard to focus on anything but my fabulous sukkah!

(Complete with computer and breakfast)

Sukkot, the Jewish festival of  tabernacles/harvest/tents is this week and it's right up my alley. How many holidays are there that you get spiritual brownie points for building & playing ("dwelling") in a giant fort?

My husband didn't want me to spend a lot of money because he foolishly believes I won't want to do this every year. So I bought a few things and dug the rest out of the house or basement.

Want to play along at home? Here's what you'll need:

    6 - 8ft bamboo poles
    2- 6ft bamboo poles
    4- "S" shaped garden hooks
    3 or 4 - full or queen size flat sheets, or equivalent cloth
    4 - 2ft pieces of rope or cloth
    a lot of straight pins
    a ladder
    a rubber mallet
    a tent stake

First, I laid out 2 8ft poles and 2 6ft poles to get a sense of the dimensions:

Then I pounded a tent stake in the inside of each corner to create a starter hole for the poles. After removing the stake, I began banging the poles into place:

I only put them in about 3 inches because I got lazy, but I recommend that you go for at least 6 inches because as I sit here in the sukkah writing this, the wind is having a very easy time of pushing it around. It is looking pretty wobbly. . . . maybe if I take a break to fix that pole right there. . .

Fuck.

Yom Kippur Fast

Can we talk about the Jews and how they are HARDCORE? Holy crap the sissy fasting that the Catholics do is nothing, NOTHING, compared to Yom Kippur. My (future) brother-in-law likes to say that Jews are just more efficient. They take all the guilt and repentance and "fasting" that the Catholics stretch out over the 40 days of Lent and get it all done in one day. 

Atonement? Check.

8am: I'm thirsty.

8:15am: Made my husband breakfast & lunch. Realized that I usually nosh through half of his food before I pack it. No bites today.

8:20am: I'm still thirsty.

8:25am: Screw this. I'm going back to bed.

10:45am: Fuck! I'll be late for services!

10:46am: I am THIIIIIIIIIRSTY!

10:50am: No washing....I won't shower, I won't do the laundry, but I will wash my face.

10:55am: No lotions...no sunscreen?!? I'll be wrinkly for the Lord.

10:56am: Makeup...dead people wear makeup, so I will, too?

11am: I just need to brush my teeth and I can leave.

11:01am: I LOVE brushing my teeth!

11:02am: Has toothpaste always tasted this good?

11:03am: Maybe I'll just brush a little longer.

11:05am: I need to gargle a few more times.

11:10am: FUCK!!! I'm running late!!!!

11:15am: I'll add "cutting someone off" to the list of things to atone for.

11:25am: And "Stealing someone's parking space."

11:30am: My sister-in-law tells me, "The upside of sitting in the overflow library spaces is that nobody will notice if you fall asleep during services."

11:35am: I'm thirsty AND hungry.

11:45am-1pm: I have no idea where we are in the order of worship.

1pm: The Rabbi says of the passage from Isaiah: "Just about now we think, 'Fasting? No big deal, I can handle this.'" I throw him dagger eyes.

1:03pm: The Rabbi goes on to make some good points and I add "Giving the Rabbi dirty looks" to my list of things to atone for.

2:30pm: Is this service really still going?

2:35pm: Wow. That ended quickly.

2:45pm: Talking in the street about food for the break fast at sundown. I'm surprisingly indifferent.

3pm: Back at home, realizing that I have a hour to pack and clean the house before leaving for my acupuncture appointment.

3:45pm: That went fast. I am nervous about telling the acupuncturist that I haven't eaten all day.

4pm: The acupuncturist tells me I look great and doesn't (for the first time ever) inquire what I've had to eat or drink that day.

4:30pm: It's hard to relax with pins sticking out of you and a growling stomach.

5pm: Acupuncturist wakes me up. Apparently relaxing wasn't that hard.

5:15pm: Rushing around to finish packing. Husband returns home.

5:30pm: Talk to our neighbor who is also fasting. He says my break fast plans of eating hard boiled eggs in the car sound depressing.

5:45pm: Everything my husband does or says annoys the crap out of me.

5:50pm: Someone calls my name. Assuming it's my husband, I angrily yell "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!!?"

5:51pm: Our neighbor and his three-year-old son walk into the kitchen with kugel, apple-honey cakes, and other assorted treats all packed up for my break-fast on the car trip.

5:52pm: Profuse apologies and thanks. We laugh (uncomfortably) about low blood sugar and "Hangry" (Hungry + Angry).

6:30pm: We're finally packing the car and leaving.

6:40pm: I call my brother-in-law and search my books for the blessing for bread to say before the break-fast. Can't get through or find it in the books.

6:45pm: I say the only one I sort of know by heart, amended: "Baruck atah adonai, eloheynu melech ha-olam, asher kitshau bamitz vatanu....for the bread?"

6:50pm: I LOVE FOOD!!! I LOVE WATER!!! PRAISE THE LORD!!!

6:55pm: My husbands says to me, "I didn't want to mention this earlier, but your breath was awful."

6:56pm: I control every impulse in my body to throw the chicken liver at him. I don't need anymore things to atone for today.

The Not-So-Great Schlep

Thursday night I celebrated the break fast not at my sister-in-law's house eating bagels and schmear, but in a car with my husband driving to southern California, munching on hard boiled eggs and begging for an In-and-Out burger. Actually, my neighbors stopped by with some kugel, a chickeny spread (liver?) of some sort, and a scrumptious honey apple cake, so it was a pretty delicious break fast, even if in the car.

While some brave souls are schlepping to Florida this weekend, I am just going home. No doubt my parents could stand to hear a little pro-Obama campaigning, but I've been trying for months to swing them over without success, and the fact that this state will go to him anyway hardly increases my desire to bring it up again.

So instead we will all ignore our glaring political differences and go apple picking instead. A fitting end to the days of awe, no?

Yom Kippur reflections will post next week, while I will actually be working on Sukkot...meaning that I will be perpetually behind until the autumnal flurry of holidays is finally over. Hopefully I'll get my shit together in time for Pesach.

Helpful Yesterday

Things that would have been good to know YESTERDAY, and why:

1. Before the Yom Kippur fast, you should stop drinking caffeine to avoid caffeine headaches. I've already had a cup of coffee and 2 diet Pepsi's today. Tomorrow is looking painful.

2. To minimize thirst from excruciating to merely unpleasant, avoid salty foods the day before the fast. Salty foods like the pretzels and pistachio nuts that I just ate.

3. During Yom Kippur, you are not supposed to eat or drink, have sex, wash, wear leather shoes, or apply lotion.  My plan to do laundry for our trip tomorrow is screwed. Also, it's a bad idea to go to the gym. On the upside, it will be one of the few days when general dishevelment and smelly breath indicates religious piety.

I should probably add that as a Catholic, I am a terrible observer of the fasting & dietary rules. I have no qualms about eating a donut on my way into Mass, I generally forget about the no meat-on-Fridays thing from years of vegetarianism where it didn't matter. I know from experience that it's embarrassing to bite into a ham sandwich in Good Friday. I generally come up with whatever excuse that I can to avoid the sissy fasting we do only 2 days a year.

So obviously, I'm a little reluctant about the serious fasting tomorrow. But I'm talking myself into it. Or at least I'm trying to.

Rosh Hashanah & The Days of Repentance

We ate apples dipped in honey. Actually, because I am a food snob and an elitist, we ate local organic apples bought at the farmers market dipped in honey from a hive in my friend's back yard. And because I like a little flourish, we also poured the honey over some fresh sheep's milk ricotta and sprinkled it all with lavender salt. Yum.

We went to a synagogue in Berkeley and sat in the back. I didn't know any of the songs or prayers, but tried my best to blend. Other people back there seemed to be in our boat, too. Toward the end of the service they sounded the shofar- the smallest one I've ever seen- a shofarito, actually. It's higher pitch sounded like a woman yelping in pain, and the idea that the short blasts of the shofar mimic the human cry finally resonated with me.

My sister-in-law and her fiance, and a good friend who's car fortuitously broke down a mile away, came over to dinner that night and we ate delicious things that I cooked and the amazing challah that they baked.

 

(An impressive freshman effort, don't you think?)

The day flew by. With services, lunch, errands, appointments, a car breaking down and the subsequently necessary round of drinks, cooking dinner and celebrating, there were so many little moments but they've all smooshed together in my memory, tangled up like the vines in my backyard. 

I suppose that's appropriate, though, since Rosh Hashanah, as a commemoration, has a lot going on. It's a new year, it's the celebration of the creation of humanity and our relationship with God, it's a celebration of God's Kingship, it's the beginning of ten days of repentance leading up to Yom Kippur. That's a lot to hold in your head all at once.

So I focused my attention on the apples. Apples dipped in honey represent the wish for a sweet New Year, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a perfect choice for the beginning of the days of repentance.

Rosh Hashanah is also a birthday in a sense- it is the birthday of humanity, and to that end, the anniversary of our relationship with God. These are events are golden and sweet, our conception and birth in the mind of God, the beginning of our intimate and timeless covenant with God. They are the honey of the year.

But the apple! For me it was a reminder of the days ahead. No sooner than we met our God did we prove how unreliable a people we would turn out to be. I thought about this while munching leftovers the next morning. That honey-soaked apple ushered me straight into repentance, as I saw the goodness of God wrapped around a symbol of our own willfulness. 

And that's the heart of it, isn't it? We repent from all those times that our own desires and will overshadowed the needs and kindness of those around us, the times they even overshadowed God.

As I've been eating apples this week, I keep thinking of those transgression, building a list of repentance, wincing as I remember each cruel thing that I have done. In the silences I keep hearing the sharp broken cry of the shofar, the sound of a woman beginning to cry.

L'shanah Tovah!

Happy New Year, everyone! It's the Jewish New Year 5769 and my new year's resolution is to practice Judaism for the year.  This wouldn't be that big of a deal if I was an observant Jew, it would be like saying "Happy New Year! I just going to keep doing what I'm already doing."  Perhaps is would be more admirable if I was a non-observant Jew spending the year reconnecting with my heritage through the practice of the faith. But the fact of the matter is, I am a Catholic.

I am not a fallen-away Catholic, not a "recovering" Catholic, I am a professional Catholic. I get paid to teach and practice the faith. So the fact that I've decided to practice Judaism for the year is neither admirable nor cogent. It's mostly just weird. But I am alright with that.

"So why?" you might be wondering. The best I can do is offer three thoughts that have been banging around in my head for some time now. First, I want to be an amateur again. I want to practice a faith for the sheer love and mystery of it all. I want to be overwhelmed by all that I don't know, I want to be the person who gets to ask questions rather than answer them, I want to be the anonymous person sitting in at services.  Second, I am at a crossroads in my life where I have enough free time, and enough resources (friends and family) to guide me through this undertaking. I am always much bolder when I am surrounded by friends.  Finally, everything that I've learned so far about Judaism has delighted an impressed me. So I naturally want to learn more, and we learn best by doing, I've always been told.

I'm not yet sure how I will deal with the Catholic-Jewish overlap. I don't know to what degree I will practice both. I am hoping that things will become clear after I take the first few steps. I welcome you to walk along with me.