Lost in the Story
Photo via Microsoft Office
For the second year in a row, I have the honour of participating in the Sydney Taylor Book Award Blog Tour, sponsored by the Association of Jewish Libraries. I enjoyed the experience tremendously last year and learned a great deal from it.
In preparation for this year, I set aside some time to read the book so that I would be able to ask the author good questions. Which, in this case, will be conducted through the author’s agent as the author is anonymous. The book? Hush.
This is not a review. I’m not ready to write about it. I’m still processing. What I can tell you is that the character development is reason enough to read the book. There is measurable growth in the characters, which is refreshing to see. Though the story is one of an unimaginable betrayal and the setting is an Ultra Orthodox community, I did not get the impression that the author is writing this as a revenge story. She leaves the reader with the impression that there is much to love about living an observant life. Even in the midst of tragedy.
No Great Loss
Image by © Royalty-Free/Corbis
I blame my mother and her parents for my love of all things British. Eating dinner under the watchful eye of Edward VIII, whose picture and abdication speech hung on the wall, left quite an impression on me. I spent hours pouring over history books of the Royal Family, memorizing the line of succession, and imagined myself living in the England of Beatrix Potter, Jane Austen, or Agatha Christie.
This was in direct conflict, of course, with the Britain who expelled the Jews in the 13th century, wrote the White Paper, and rerouted Shoah survivors to Cyprus.
Living in London during my junior year of college was everything I had hoped. Renting a flat on Conduit Mews, taking the Tube to school, taking advantage of theatre, opera, and so forth. It was delightful. I learned firsthand, however, of the antisemitism that resides just below the surface.
So the news that the BBC World Service has been forced, by the current economic downturn, to close five of its 32 World language services, cut radio programming in seven language, and end short-wave transmissions of an additional six languages was shocking. And welcome news. Now less people will have the opportunity to hear the anti-Israel, anti-semitic pieces favoured by the BBC.
Not Now — I’m Reading!
Picture via Microsoft Office
Frume Sarah is currently unavailable. When last seen, she was somewhere around page two hundred thirty-three…
Support
According to Wikipedia, a support group is a place where “members provide each other with various types of help, usually nonprofessional and nonmaterial, for a particular shared, usually burdensome, characteristic. The help may take the form of providing and evaluating relevant information, relating personal experiences, listening to and accepting others’ experiences, providing sympathetic understanding and establishing social networks.”
Ask any parent who is rearing a child with special needs about the sheer necessity of having a group with whom one can share frustrations, lessons, questions, fears, and triumphs.
It is a lifeline.
When I leave my Autism support group, I feel both exhilarated and exhausted. The amount of information shared makes my head feel as if it is about to explode. The task of parenting a child on the spectrum is overwhelming.
But at least I know that I am not alone on this path.
I look around the room and think that I wouldn’t have chosen most of these women, for they are mostly women, as friends. And then I marvel that these women know things about me that I don’t even share with my closest friends.
Because they know. They get it. They understand. And I can’t imagine doing this without them.
Poetic Irony
Picture via Microsoft Office
As if the very Universe was meant to comment on my health last week, I suddenly received some panicked emails that something was amiss in Frume Sarah’s World. It seems that while my white cells were busy fending off that nasty case of bronchitis, I somehow missed the announcement that my “domain had expired.”
Given our society’s current love for the euphemism, I had to wonder if there was some deeper meaning here.
Because that’s how Frume Sarah rolls; always looking for the deeper meaning.
All is well, as it turns out. No deeper meaning and the domain has been restored to its prior state of frummie wonderfulness.
It is for this very reason that I like to start my day with the obits. If my name’s not listed, or, should I say my domain isn’t expired, then things are already looking on the bright side.
Give it a try…
Inconsistency
Dear School District,
I understand that with the increased number of violent acts occurring on school campuses across the country that it has become necessary to enact a zero-tolerance policy in regards to weapons at school. No weapon of any kind is permitted on school grounds. Nothing that even resembles a weapon is permitted on school grounds. I support this policy. In concept.
Last week, our son was threatened with punitive action for possession of a potential weapon. It seems that Beernut, who has some sensory issues, had unfolded a paper clip; an action he often does to help deal with his anxiety. By doing so, he was informed, he was in possession of an item that could be used to inflict bodily harm on classmates and faculty. The substitute teacher, whose knowledge of Autism Spectrum Disorders was rather limited, put the fear of God in young Beernut. Not to mention a bit of confusion.
You see, it was in the very same week that Beernut had earned a trip to the treasure chest at school for meeting the behavioural goals established by the school psychologist. And his selection from the school-endorsed treasure chest? A pair of water pistols.
I am struggling to understand a policy that views a paper clip as a weapon and a water pistol as an appropriate reward for good behaviour.
And if it’s not OK for kids to play with something that resembles a gun in your home, why would you think that it’s OK in mine?
Sincerely,
Frume Sarah
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And many thanks to Jack for covering this week’s Haveil Havalim while I was sick with a nasty case of bronchitis.
Limitations
Everyone is different. And each of us can mark our own growth and development in different ways. For me, learning to recognize my own limitations has been a lifelong battle. I want to believe that I can do it all. That I can be all things to all people at all times.
Which is ridiculous. And unrealistic. And downright impossible.
Walking out of the doctor’s office, with a diagnosis of bronchitis in hand, I realized that I needed to ask for help. I couldn’t possibly take care of everything that needed to happen this week while struggling for breath.
Thanks, Jack, for taking HH off of my hands.
Thanks, Ima, for the Tu Bishvat treats.
Thanks, SuperMom, for dropping off dinner late last night.
Thanks to BubbeGiraffe and ZaydeGiraffe for caring for the Frumettes.
And now…back to sleep.
Tu Bishvat is Here!
Photo via Microsoft Office
And with the setting of the sun, we wish our trees a happy birthday.
That’s right. Tu Bishvat heegia, chag ha-ilanot. The 15th of Shvat is here, the holiday of the trees.
What to know more? Take a look here and here.
When I was growing up, Tu Bishvat included an annual reading of The Giving Tree. I must admit that the story has always troubled me. I found the one-sided relationship upsetting and was disappointed that the boy learned nothing from the tree, remaining selfish until the very end. (My new favourite Tu Bishvat read is Our Tree Named Steve. In case you were wondering.)
For a more traditional Tu Bishvat tale, take a look at what G-dCast has put together:
(A Tale for Tu B’shvat from G-dcast.com. More Torah cartoons at www.g-dcast.com)
Learn more about Honi HaM’agel here, here, and here. And remember to eat a fruit of a tree today…and show your thanks.
Barukh ata Adonai, Eloheinu Melekh ha-olam, borei peri ha-etz.
Blessed are You, Source of all life, Creator of the fruit of the tree.
Effective Marketing
Peach wants a Gyro Bowl. Now Peach often announces his newest desire after watching television. Which is precisely why marketers make certain to place ads during children’s programming.
So what exactly is a Gyro Bowl?
The Gyro Bowl is an unprecedented As Seen on TV product made in 2010 that, according the makers of the device, is “100% kid proof.” To put it simply, this bowl that is attached to an outer ring (which is also attached to an outer ring) can be filled with anything, and it will never spill. You can put breakfast cereal (dry or with milk) in there, healthy veggies, mid-day snacks, Spaghettios, or even nails, and it still won’t spill, no matter which way you turn the bowl. (Gyro Bowl Reviews)
I bet you are wondering “Why does Peach want a Gyro Bowl?” I was wondering the same thing.
According to Peach, “It’s magic, Mama. It makes any snack you want appear!”
Though not one of the company’s stated claims, one can understand how a young child might get the wrong idea. [Pay close attention at 0:08-0:14.]
Dream Interpretation Gone Awry
FrumeSarah (addressing the Littles): Who knows why we are off today?
Peach: We’re supposed to stay home and sleep.
FrumeSarah: Sleep?
Peach: Yes. Because the doctor was dreaming about children who play nicely together. So we are supposed to stay home and sleep.
Though not exactly what today is supposed to signify, he wasn’t completely wrong. He is, after all, not quite four years old.
Frume Sarah is Shabbos-observant -- in a Reform way, that is. Please note that from Friday afternoons until one hour after sundown on Saturday evenings, Frume Sarah will be unavailable, in observance of the Jewish Sabbath.
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Thank you for your understanding...and gut Shabbos!!! 
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