Off we go, Part II
Landmarks are very important. They help you remember where things are. Before Waze, when you had to give people directions to your house, I remember telling people after the first traffic light by the bagel store, count 10 blocks and when you see the Armenian Church, make a left onto the dead-end street. Good times.
As you get older, landmarks definitely become more important. When I am in the shtetl, I have a tendency to get lost because every street more or less looks the same. This past Shabbos, I went to synagogue because we blessed the new month. Which is Cheshvan, for those interested. Which is my birthday month. Of course, I have no idea which day of Cheshvan is my birthday (and neither does my mom) but that is for another column (or not).
Husband #1 told me to get to synagogue at around 10 a.m. One of his superpowers is knowing what time things are in the prayer service. Though this superpower is not like flying or reading people’s minds, it still serves me well, so we will take it. I get to synagogue, say my prayers, and begin the walk home.
Now the neighborhood where my kids live is quite scenic. Tons of strollers, wrappers from candies, and the occasional abandoned appliance. When I turned a corner, I saw a washing machine lying on its side and I said, “Hey, I didn’t see this on the way here. I must be going in the wrong direction.”
And I was. So, some may think that old appliances should not be left on the street all willy nilly, but I say, if it helps me find my way home, why shouldn’t that be a landmark? I love this country.
We are renting an apartment that is in the basement of a building right near Son and DIL #3 (and Matzo Ball and his sister). The written description was “Luxurious vacation rental.” As long as it has a good shower, working internet, and is clean, if you want to use the word “luxurious,” be my guest. In any event, there is no number on the door of the apartment or the apartment next to it.
I came home from my baby nurse shift one night at around 12:30 a.m. and, lo and behold, someone had left their sukkah propped up on the door to my luxurious vacation rental! I knew that Husband #1 was sleeping, but even if he wasn’t, because of his back situation, he wouldn’t have been able to help me anyway, so big, bad Babka hoisted the different parts of the symbolic hut and laid them on the floor so it would no longer be blocking the entrance to the apartment. Now did the individual who placed this barrier to my temporary home not know that someone was living there? Did they hear me watching Netflix and decide I shouldn’t be able to leave said temporary home? Because I am a glass-half-full kinda gal, I will go with the former.
In any event, the sukkah remained there for four more days, until the eve of Shabbos, when it magically disappeared. Yes, I love this country.
In a related incident, there were melted ice pops all over the floor, and I had asked a poor unsuspecting teenager, in my broken Hebrew, if he knew what happened, and he just shrugged and gave me an empathetic grin. I had tried mopping up the floor before I went to sleep, and the next morning, the whole area had been cleaned. I suspect the unsuspecting teenager had something to do with it. Yes, I love this country.
And now I am hanging out with Danish’s little sister because her babysitter wasn’t feeling well today. I am so thankful to Hashem that I am able to be here and do this, because I always feel a little sad when I am 6,000 miles away and cannot help Son and DIL #2 when something like this comes up.
Of course, I asked DIL #2 to pick me up some Cheetos because they are much cheaper in the supermarket near her office, so it won’t be a total loss…yes, it is all about me.
Hope you are enjoying the post-holiday haze.
Banji Ganchrow of Teaneck is grateful for her neighbor who made the mistake of asking, “If there is anything you need, please let me know.” You would think you couldn’t shop online from another country…