You already know I have a thing for grammar if you have been following my blog. It is only a small OCD tendency. I can control it if I want. I simply choose to drive others nuts with my grammar fetish. Semantics is another little OCD tendency. To quote Wikipedia, a totally unreliable source for scholastic anything, “Semantics from Ancient Greek: σημαντικός sēmantikós; important is the study of meaning. I like their quote primarily for the Greek writing. It makes the word semantics appear that much cooler. Although, I am taking the word of Wikipedia that σημαντικός means semantics.

Semantics: the study of meaning. For example, when a southern woman says Bless your heart, her meaning is not one of a great bestowment of good luck. Her semantic is, your momma must have left you out in the rain so long your brain shriveled to the size of a pea but I’m too polite to point out the obvious. Semantic: the study of meaning.

Now to get a bit more to the point after the lesson in semantics; what are we teaching our daughters when we tell them they can do anything a boy can do? I overheard a mother say this to her daughter at the library while browsing for books. She was a young girl, about 7. That phrase stuck in my head and kept gnawing at my grey matter while I was unsuccessfully trying to fall asleep. If, girls can do anything a boy can do then even bringing up the topic with that phrase is irrelevant. Of course they can do anything a boy can do! Heck, they can pee in the woods standing up if they have been shown how. (Saving that blog for another day.) Women can give birth, be wonderful parents, teach, fly airplanes, conduct life- saving surgery,  be truck drivers, pan for gold, or even become couch potatoes and do not a darn thing if that is the direction of their life goal. Do we tell our sons they can do anything a girl can do? I venture to say not as often though I do not have clear statistics to that fact. Sons are not informed they can do anything a girl can do because the fact is assumed and discussion is not necessary.

I look back over the rearing of my daughters and hope those words have never left my lips. So, watch not what you say, but the meaning or semantic behind the words. Ask not, what do you want to be when you grow up, ask what would you like to do.  (Drop me a line if you don’t understand the difference… I’ll fill you in, bless your heart.)

Repost.... Still working on some new stuff. Any ideas or request???

The Menorah is in the freezer… of course.  I never know what to do with myself on New Year’s Eve.  My husband is not a party person so going to one is not on the list.  We spent most of our lives in southern Alabama (War Eagle baby.  Yes… bellowing that is a requirement.  One must identify where one allegiance lies in the Sweet Home of Alabama) so watching the ball fall in NYC is a bit on the cold side for me and too many people for the Mr. Crosby. The kids are upper teens and have their own things to do tonight. So, it is me, a bottle of wine, Star Trek on Netflix and the Menorah is in the freezer…of course.

It is odd. Two New Year’s eves.  In my mind, New Year and festivities were months ago; Rosh Hashanah. One is a holy day, one a party day.  The only comfort with two New Year’s I can find is Tashlikh; the casting off.  Like the emptying of pockets into a creek to cast off our sins, the desire to make New Year’s resolutions is an attempt to begin again.   Our society makes promises to ourselves then breaks them. I vow to lose weight. I will be more patient. I will break all my resolutions… again

I have never been a fan of resolutions. I’ve always thought the idea of making promises to ourselves once a year ludicrous, preposterous, silly and nonsensical.  (Don’t you love a thesaurus?) Our society places their resolutions in the superficial and the self. Not the self in the positive way but the self in the self-centered way. Resolutions to look better, resolutions to work harder relax more, organize one’s life. Most people would get more out of actually emptying their pockets of lint and junk into a river. I challenge the wold to make resolutions of the other self; self serving, caring for others.

So I’ve cleaned the house because I don’t know what else to do with the day. Thus, the Menorah is in the freezer.  Wax comes right off when it is frozen. We will have some sushi, another glass of wine and re-evaluate what to do with my own new year. So… comment away! What are you doing with your new year?  What does New Year mean to you?

Whatever you do I wish you all a very blessed New Year. L’shanah tovah tikatev v’taihatem.

How to make chloroform and other useful tips.

         I have an 11 year old couch that has grown old along- side kids growing up. It is in desperate need of a do over. I decided to look up how to re-upholster furniture. It amazes me how many how-to articles there are on the web. There is, of course, how to re-upholster furniture. How- to recipes.  How to tie a tie. How to start a business. How to make chloroform was number three followed quickly by how to be anorexic. Seriously? Seriously!

            Curiosity has my interest peaked. The chloroform website does state that making chloroform can cause terminal diseases and death if not done under medical supervision.  I know I am getting old but I can’t fathom why anyone would need to make their own chloroform. I can’t think of one household use for it. Granted, chloroform is much more effective than ether, but I don’t have much use for ether either. 

            How to be anorexic? Yes that was the next topic directly below chloroform. Free pro anorexia tips. Best ways on how to become anorexic. Granted, some of the pro anorexia websites are providing support for those battling and trying to overcome the disease, there are still, far more, trying to teach people how to become anorexic. They tote themselves as the answer to useless diet gurus and give convenient and helpful tips on the best way to starve oneself to the point of death. How kind of them.

             The first misconception these websites promote is that weighing less than 80 percent of your peers is a positive state to achieve. The second misconception is that anorexia is a choice. The first concept glorifies and provides validation to self- starvation while the second notion does a disservice to those that truly are suffering from the disorder which is based upon biological, psychological and environmental factors according to Mayo Clinic. (http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/anorexia)  

            So once again I am a hypocrite. I don’t wish my thoughts and writings to be censored. I don’t wish my writings to be banned.  Yet, I have troubles wrapping my brain around these websites that promote anything harmful to the self or to others. Someone on the brink of self-destruction needs to find websites promoting healing, not hurting. Should there or should there not be a censor on what may or may not be posted on the internet? Sometimes I say no. Yet, when I find websites that promote hurt and pain I find myself thinking yes.

            If you want to check out a website that offers inspirational women of beauty and strength check out the Spartan Race page on Facebook. Beauty isn’t in the starvation. It is in the strength. Notice how the women smile the most in their beast phase? https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151707843591861.1073741983.251061411860&type=3

            I’m going to pre-empt some potential comments here and now. Yes, have very tall and very thin daughters and my son looks like he stepped off the show Vikings. We keep track of their calorie intake. They are very athletic and we want to ensure they are receiving enough calories and nutrients on a vegetarian diet. The girls eat between 4000- 5000 calories during cross country season.  That calorie count is to maintain weight and ensure they don’t lose any. My daughters are naturally thin and they run. Two points of interest are:1.  genetics, they are built like their father, and 2. running. 

Repost:

I have never been a fan of meat.  I remember sitting for hours as a small child with a cold greasy glob of something.  I’m sure that it was delectable to meat eaters before it congealed into a half chewed and spit out lump on my plate.  There are photos of me asleep in a high chair with my meat waiting to be devoured.  Did I mention I never did like meat?

Meat in the south is a staple of life.  If you can kill it you can grill it or barbecue it up and slap it on a bun.  There is pulled pork, chopped pork, well -trimmed and slow cooked until dry with sauce on the side.  There is heat soaked and slathered in sauce. There are as many ways to cook up meat and special sauces are there are southerners. We won’t discuss squirrel or possum in this rant. While this paragraph makes some people hungry, it makes my tummy ache.

Years of upset bowels made the choice to go vegetarian pretty easy.  My children were all for the idea.  However, they were only 1 and 2 ½ so I’m not sure they exactly knew what they were agreeing to.  My husband, however, was still a meat eater. I’m not entirely sure what brought him to the meatless side. He will have to start his own blog for that information.

As I began my conversion to Judaism I realized how well my being vegetarian works with being Kosher.  Even if I wanted to eat meat, there are no Kosher butchers on the corner or within an hour drive for that matter.  I was Kosher and didn’t even know it.

 

Fast forward to my son’s freshman year in high school.  After many years of no meat, whole wheat postie- toasties with real fruit, and organic everything he was overjoyed at the food options in the cafeteria.  There was pizza, real Pop Tarts, milkshakes, a salad bar, unlimited fries and chicken strips in addition to the standard, unidentified cafeteria meat.  Then there were the new friends that could drive.

 

One fine afternoon, my son went with friends to the local fast food restaurant and ordered not one, but two double patty bacon cheese burgers, loads of fries and a milk shake.  Remember, this is after years of not eating meat, milk or preservatives.   He came home and the cat immediately narked him out. She could smell it on his breath and wasn’t going to let that slip by without a comment.  He proudly announced his daily dietary adventures into what I like to call the dark side.  Dabbling on the dark side is my children’s choice. They are welcome to try the variety of dietary delights available to them in the general population as long as they realize, I will laugh when it makes them sick.  Half an hour later my son was crying and emptying his contents into the porcelain bowl. Score one for Kosher and vegetarian.

This one is new!  It is a snowed in pondering of how Black Friday moved to Thanksgiving. It provides no clear or concise answers to much of anything relevant but rambles on full of old southern lady opinions.  Let's see how many followers I LOSE with this one...

            During half time of the big game between Auburn and Alabama (War Eagle Baby!), I got to thinking. Where did the mass spending consumption known as Black Friday begin and how did it manage to move it's bum into Thanksgiving.  Whimsically, I thought to myself, at least they can’t blame the Jews for Black Friday because everyone is shopping for Christmas.  Right? How wrong can I be. I am big on facts not opinion so I began with an Internet search for the cause of Black Friday. Color me surprised to find out that according to some factions, it is, in fact, the cause of the Jews.   The reasoning, a term I use loosely, is that all the major venues of financial trade are owned by the Jews.  They are using Christmas to open their stores and line their pockets with the money of hard working non-Jewish people.  You may read for yourself at www.stormfront.com. (Warning: don't read if you suffer from high blood pressure or random bouts of cursing.)

Well, I don’t want to make any assumptions to the validity of their information and IQ or lack thereof without doing a thorough investigation.  Who knows? Maybe they are correct and I am grossly misinformed.  

            So let me think.  There is me. I am a teacher. There is a Jewish cable guy I know. It can’t be him lining his pockets with Black Friday gold on the Thursday of Thanksgiving.  I know three Jewish teachers. Of course we already counted the cable guy.  I know an Accountant but I think he takes that Thursday and Friday off.  I know some stay at home Jewish moms, and one guy that works for a car dealer. So this form of research only reveals two things.  I really need to get out more and meet more Jewish people. (I told you it is a small town. There are only a hand full of us.) Black Friday has to be the cause of the only Jew I know in retail and that is the guy working for Subaru.   Time to revamp this research process.

            Maybe I should research from the other direction. Which big companies are owned and operated on the Jewish principal. We know which ones are owned and operated on the Christian philosophies.  Chick Fil A is a given. You need to get out and about more than me if you didn’t know that! Hobby Lobby is a second.  In fact, CNN listed the top 9 Christian based in one of their own blogs that you can read here… http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2012/07/24/7-religious-companies-besides-chick-fil-a/   Forever 21, Tom’s, Tyson’s, Service Master, Mary Kay, Timberland, Alaska Airlines, Marriot, Curves Fitness and Walmart receives an honorable mention. Walmart states they pick their products to sensitize to the church goer.  Please correct me if my facts are wrong, but didn’t Walmart and Forever 21 along with other stores open at 8:00 pm on Thanksgiving?

            It took me much longer to find Jewish owned businesses.  Mark Zuckerberg!  Ok, Facebook is owned by a Jewish man but it really isn’t run in line with Judaism or all of you would be without chat from sundown on Friday until sundown on Saturday. Oh yea, I own a little online store. I wish were held the world’s retail market. Maybe we don’t because we refuse to do the crazy mark downs on Thanksgiving and Black Friday. There are many sports team and media CEO’s or Directors such as ABC, NBC, CBS. I found retail locations:  Macy’s and Tanger Factory Outlets.  Macy’s was also opened at 8:00 pm on Thanksgiving day along with Walmart, Target at 9:00 pm.  So yes, Jewish owned and operated companies did make money.  It looks like profits were split by both religious parties. So whose fault is it?!

             If you actually went out to the stores on Thanksgiving to shop then you already know who is responsible. If a Jew went shopping on Thanksgiving, then it is the responsibility of that Jew, but not an entire religion. Anyone who left their home after giving thanks for all they had to go buy more simply because it was on sale is the reason Black Friday moved its greedy butt into a day of family, friend, love and thankfulness. Yes I went there! To the but with two t’s.  It’s not an argument of who owns what share of which company. It’s the person that buys into the paradigm being sold.

Repost # I lost count....  As I re-read I think I failed at my attempt to be less of a hypocrite. Something to do for 2014!

I hereby admit publically, I am a hypocrite. I would like to think that I am not. I imagine myself being openly accepting of everyone around me all the time. However, last night, while watching Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding I found myself narrating the grammar (and clothing, hair, car oil for tanning and on and on and on).  I screamed when I recognized the purple building near the courthouse where the couple were planning to wed.  How did I recognize it?  It is in our very own downtown.  I prayed that I wasn’t in the background not only on TV, but doing something more embarrassing than I normally do.  Seeing that I am known to red light mosh to whatever pop song is playing on the radio, doing something that would count as embarrassing is substantial.

What makes me the hypocrite is language.  I like to fancy myself adept at using the English language.  I like my thesaurus. Love spelling and grammar check.  Do not even think of sending me a text that ends in a preposition or uses incomplete sentences.  Thou shall be shunned.  So my girls and I are brainlessly watching my Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding and looking for ourselves in the background.  We continue to debate their slaughter of the English language. I have always told, or more accurately nagged, my children into using proper grammar.  The payoff is teenagers with incredible writing skills and diversity in their vocabulary selection.

Fast forward the time frame to this morning.  I am in the van reciting my Hebrew aleph bet and listening to my tape.  I listen to my southern accent attempting to properly pronounce cheit.   I realize, I am a disgrace to the Hebrew language.  Granted, I am better than most people I know, but there are only about 200 Jews within 100 miles of me.  Compared to 99.9 % of the people I know, I rock Hebrew.  Compared to someone raised learning the language in a Hebrew school I iz ain’t no good at speaking.   I can spew my blessings in front of the common Catholic and sound implausible.  (Implausible is the thesaurus recommendation for use in place of incredible. Thank you thesaurus.)  Listening to my Hebrew lesson and my Alabama accent attempting to repeat I realize, I am a hypocrite.  I can dish it out, but I myself am a failure at a language.

Therefore, I hereby apologize for rolling my eyes and condemning the grammar of the Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding ladies if my fellow Jews forgive me my Hebrew.  I can’t guarantee I won’t badger, pester, plague, harass, hassle or harry those that miss use the English language.  It is hard to break an obsession.  But I will try to be more understanding.  I will practice my Hebrew in the privacy of my own home where I hope to not insult the language or culture.  I will practice until I speak good.

The use of good in the last sentence is for my own whimsy. Go ask your English teacher if you do not know why it does not belong there. I should also offer a prize to anyone that can tell me how many fractured sentences are in the above paragraphs.

I wish this this repost was just that... a repost warming everyone up for the new blog. However, this one is too timely. I wrote it a year ago for my girls but it is fitting again today. So, with sadness in my heart, I share it with you again.

  I always try to write about something uplifting and poke fun at our family’s growing pains and living Jewish in a small southern town. This past week, our small town has experienced one more suicide.  Every suicide is one too many.

 

I work in the schools. I’ve seen bullying. I’ve tried to stop it when I see it, but I’m not sure my words are enough. My oldest daughter is 17 and 5 foot 10. The youngest is 13 and also 5 foot 10. They are tall targets.  Both of them have skipped a grade in math.  They are tall, one is a blonde, one is a ginger, both are smart, and to top it off: Jewish. 

 

Fortunately, the bullying at the high school level is minimal for my oldest. She has managed to surround herself with positive, older, brilliant girls in the school for role models and emotional support. The one in middle school is not quite there yet. Seventh grade girls can be flat out mean. Two of my youngest child's best friends have left school because of bullying. I can’t afford private school or the luxury of staying home to home school, not if I want a roof over my family and food on the table.

 

This week’s events have me sad. I can’t find any whimsical story of my son sneaking meat, football Fridays and Shabbat or the southern accent ruining the Hebrew language. But, I have this in my heart. It is a love letter to my daughters:

 

I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I wish you could see the joy you bring not only to my life, but to the world. You are so very smart.  I love nothing more than when you try to make me laugh. Your soul is gentle, thoughtful and beautiful. You are a fiercely loyal friend. I think I have learned more from you in my life than I could ever have to teach you. So, when they knock your drawing book out of your hand it is because they know how beautiful your creations are and they are afraid they can’t measure up. When they make fun of you for being tall, it is because they are afraid their own size is not important. When they call you names for being smart, realize it is their own insecurity screaming for attention. Always stand straight. Smile with joy. Speak with kindness.  Help those that can’t help themselves. And know deep in your soul that I love you, always. Mom

 

note: I have one for my son too. He has a copy of it in his room. I’ll share it sometime.