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O stay and hear! Your true-love's coming that can sing both high and low
Today is Shakespeare's four hundredth yahrzeit. According to the flyers all around Highland Avenue, if you walk into the 7 Ate 9 Bakery and accurately recite a Shakespearean sonnet from memory, they'll give you a free miniature cheesecake. I don't know if I can match that offer, but I did write about Shakespeare in "Anonymity." I hope the Globe Theatre's Complete Walk is someday available to be viewed more widely than this weekend on the banks of the Thames. The pictures are great.
Last night we had fifteen and a half people for our seder. That's not more people than have ever come for Halloween or Hanukkah, but it's more than we've ever had to seat around a table in my lifetime. We used two tables, relocated to the living room and placed end to end. Charlotte is still just too young to be taught the Four Questions (and was not present at the time anyway, arriving later with her mother), so Audrey and Peter split the Hebrew and the English between them. We made even more chicken soup than we thought was necessary—and that only for the people who eat chicken rather than the people who eat vegetarian soup with matzah balls—and we still have barely any kneydlakh left. There were lots of macaroons. My brother did a very good voice for Pharaoh. I think it was a success, but man, the dishes.
I don't know why I dreamed of nearly being carjacked with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rushthatspeaks while trying to see a nonexistent movie and then walking home through what was either a major transit breakdown or rumored terrorist activity on the Red Line between Harvard and Inman Squares in a Boston that looked absolutely nothing like itself, names and street signs notwithstanding. There was a subway station in Inman and a view of the sea. There were many more independent movie theaters than exist nowadays. That part I wouldn't have minded being true.
Last night we had fifteen and a half people for our seder. That's not more people than have ever come for Halloween or Hanukkah, but it's more than we've ever had to seat around a table in my lifetime. We used two tables, relocated to the living room and placed end to end. Charlotte is still just too young to be taught the Four Questions (and was not present at the time anyway, arriving later with her mother), so Audrey and Peter split the Hebrew and the English between them. We made even more chicken soup than we thought was necessary—and that only for the people who eat chicken rather than the people who eat vegetarian soup with matzah balls—and we still have barely any kneydlakh left. There were lots of macaroons. My brother did a very good voice for Pharaoh. I think it was a success, but man, the dishes.
I don't know why I dreamed of nearly being carjacked with
rushthatspeaks while trying to see a nonexistent movie and then walking home through what was either a major transit breakdown or rumored terrorist activity on the Red Line between Harvard and Inman Squares in a Boston that looked absolutely nothing like itself, names and street signs notwithstanding. There was a subway station in Inman and a view of the sea. There were many more independent movie theaters than exist nowadays. That part I wouldn't have minded being true.
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Well, keep me posted!
I will inform the Great Overlord of Dreams that all future happy merfolk dreams should be redirected to you; not to say I didn't enjoy it, but I think you would appreciate them more!
Hee. Thank you!