Monthly Archives: June 2008

Touch me

Your touch sets me on fire

Lightning fuses from tip of toe to top of head

Igniting pathways in between

Your lips are like molten lava

Burning with every kiss

The merest hint of contact and I am aflame

My body yearning to quench its thirst

With the fire of your burning passion

The promise of our mutual explosion

A temptation not to be ignored

The slow steady burn that leads

To the conflagration of the soul

Dear heart, I melt for you.

Copyright H Sabo 2008


Haveil Havalim #171

weekly jewish blogger carnival is up on Ima on the Bima’s blog.

thanks for the shout out!!

Shabbat Shalom

Bad Shabbes

my boys love this song, a take of daniel powters “bad day”

just something to send you into shabbat with a smile!

Shabbat Shalom!

Customer Disservice

Now, come on big credit card companies – don’t you want my business? You wanted me to have a GoldCard – I would love one. Problem is, the person you had call me obviously doesn’t have English as a first, second or even tenth language. I could barely understand a word he was saying. I asked for the supervisor – now that was weird, they called me, yet I took control of the conversation. They don’t like that over there in credit card hell. But you know what, the supervisor’s English was not that much better. Do they not screen these people first? So finally I understood that they wanted to give me a gold members card, for free, but needed to read me the conditions. You know how when some people read there is no change in tonality? Well this person was reading English (I know because he asked me which language I would like my information in, maybe I would have understood if I asked for it in gibberish) in a total monotone. I ended asking them to just send me the information in the mail – but they can only do that if I agree to taking the goldcard and then if I disagree after reading the blurb I can cancel it..what? what is this world coming to??

From the Frumster Files

Guaranteed to get this guy a date – “I am not financially secure at the moment”.

Suit Yourself

Why are boys so difficult to shop for / with? We went today to get suits for the upcoming barmy. The barmitzvah boy is still growing so I am waiting till the last possible minute with him, but I shlepped the others. They would have been more than thrilled to walk in, point at something that looked alright, and walk out with even trying it on. What am I saying? They would have been happier to stay at home and have me buy the suits without them! We went to the factories because when you are buying multiple suits you have to do it as cost effective as possible. So the décor was not exactly conducive to long discussions about the merits of double breasted vs single breasted jackets (like I know the difference? They both have buttons?!!). like the kids could even have cared?


But still, I had one kid wheeling around the warehouse on his heelys not even bothering to stay still long enough to try the jacket on, another one willing to take the first one I touched, and the youngest telling me that whatever Ima thinks is best he will choose. Where is the thrill of the chase, the high of finding a bargain, and in the right size too? Does this look better than the first, let me try the other size on again? No, none of that. All I got was – Yeah Ima, one said, it’s a suit. I need a suit. Works for me, Ima. Do I really have to try it on? But its gonna look dorky over my teeshirt………<more eye rolling ensues>. Can we go now? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease??


I could have sworn we were in the factory for hours, in fact it was less than 20 minutes. I even managed to find a long denim skirt for myself, but the kids sucked all the fun out of that. Ima, we didn’t come here for you, you have enough clothes already (perish the thought!!).


And you know, I must be a glutton for punishment. They needed dress shoes too, so I figured while they are already in abject misery let me just take advantage. 3 shoe stores later they were done. Salesman at the last place said I was lucky to have boys. Said girls come in with their mothers and take hours and then don’t even buy anything. My boys were done in less than 5 minutes each. Yeah fits, looks good, you’re paying Ima so who cares about the price……lets go and end this nightmare.


Do you have any idea how many hours and stores it took to get my ensemble for the barmitzvah together? And I enjoyed every single minute of it.  Is it kids, or is it the male population that hate to shop? Sigh…..thank G-d that’s over and done with. All I have to do now is take the barmitzvah boy himself. Oh what a barrel of laughs that promises to be.


3 suits – hundreds of dollars

2 pairs of shoes, slightly less

Torturing the kids – priceless…..

a binding mitzvah – a mother’s view

“And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might. Take to heart these instructions with which I charge you this day. Impress them upon your children. Recite them when you stay at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you get up. Bind them as a sign on your hand and let them serve as a frontlet between your eyes” Devarim 6:5 – 8


I sit there and watch him concentrate, his forehead wrinkled with effort. My son, the eldest child of my heart, is putting on his tefillin for the first time. I have already told him to expect the tears to fall, after all I am a mother who loves so deeply. I watch him lovingly and excitedly open his tallit bag, and gently remove the two tefillin boxes with their various straps. His eyes dance excitedly as he looks up briefly to check that I am watching him. He explains what he is doing as he goes along, for my benefit as much as to remind himself what he is doing.


He rolls up his left sleeve, and folds the sleeve to be just so. He carefully removes the tefillin from its storage box, and kisses it with holy reverence. He slides it up his arm and positions it in the right place. He gives me a goofy grin as he starts to wind the straps around his arm in the time honored fashion. He redoes it a few times to make the spaces as even as can be.


I am catapulted down memory lane, remembering the day my older brother put on tefillin, the same earnest look of concentration, the same joy in participating in a man’s mitzvah. They look nothing alike, my son and his uncle, yet at that moment their eyes share the same knowledge of being accepted into a new circle, the brotherhood of MAN.


The shel yad is almost done, but the shel rosh has to be put in place before it’s all finished. Out comes the trusty tefillin mirror to aid him in placing it correctly. The sofer showed him how to use his fingers in such a way to check that it is placed properly. He looks up at me and sees the tears streaming down my face. He rolls his eyes, but gently, knowing that I wouldn’t be Ima if this didn’t touch me so deeply. He looks so proud, so thrilled with the mitzvah that will be his to do very soon. He is shining, he is performing this mitzvah with such joy and love. I am proud that I have raised him for this, that I have helped him connect with the traditions of his forefathers.


My camera is snapping away, but the pictures I see with my own eyes are indelibly traced in my soul.  What an honour and a privilege to watch my own child put on tefillin. He is finally finishing with the shel yad, and is triumphant at getting it right the first time. He stands tall and allows me to drink him in, my son the barmitzvah boy, my son who is about to become a man. Never have I witnessed such joy and simcha upon doing a mitzvah, never have I felt a part of something so huge, so tied to my Jewish identity.


At this moment he is holy, he is consecrated to G-d, we both feel G-d’s presence in this room and in our hearts. This mitzvah that he has performed, and will continue to do every week day for the rest of his life, will connect his mind and his heart and his soul to do the service of Hashem.


My wish for him is that every day that he lays tefillin he will feel the joy that he feels today, he will feel the call of the ancestors to carry on our traditions, and that he will pass these traditions on to the next generation.


Mazel Tov my son, Mazel Tov.

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Shabbat Shalom

High on Torah

Inspired by treppenwitz.


At the elementary school graduation last year, the rebbe got up to speak. He complimented the children on a successful year, and went on a tirade about how children waste time with video games and the like. He used the phrase “our boys need to learn there is more to life than Gameboys and PCP”


Whats even funnier, is that most of the parents were unaware of the Rebbe’s gaffe. (PSP is a PlayStationPortable, PCP a hallucinogenic drug)

Spa Spa Glorious Spa

Oh My Goodness! Yesterday was just a phenomenal experience spa-wise, one that I wouldn’t mind repeating at some point in the not too distant future. I was pampered from head to toe and I loved it!


So I got to the swanky place, and was shown into a lovely changing room and handed a very high thread count fluffy white robe and slippers to change into. I strolled languidly into the waiting room, past the hammam (which I would love to try out one day), where they had these gorgeous loungers, incense scented the air, soft new age music played in the background.


My first treatment was an aromatherapy bath. I couldn’t even tell you what colour the water was, as the Jacuzzi style tub had different coloured lights flashing in the water. The bath was so relaxing, with soft lights and soft music. For 20 minutes the Jacuzzi action together with the aromatherapy did its best to relax my body and mind. There were so many little jets shooting out into the bath, one had to be careful where one sat. I almost felt as if I was floating on the Dead Sea. Once I was done, and toweled dry, it was back to the relaxation area.


I had brought a slushy romance book with me, it seemed the perfect accompaniment to the spoilage. I settled into my recliner and soon enough it was time for my next treatment. The lovely lady sat down on the floor next to me, and started massaging cream into my hands, coupled with a great hand massage. I closed my eyes and gave myself up to the sensations. Once my hands were all nice and lotioned, it was time for the paraffin gloves. Truth be told the idea of putting ones hands in hot wax kinda scared me a bit, but the reality of it was very pleasant. They left the paraffin on for 20 minutes, during which I closed my eyes and drifted. My hands feels soft like butter.


My third treatment was an hour long facial. I have to say it was very strange to have someone peer at your face as if it is a science experiment, examining the state of ones pores. And when she started clicking her tongue I knew I was in trouble. She caressed my face with her eyes closed, and I was worrying that this was a little unusual, but then she left the room and was back in a flash with a cream that would return my face’s natural moisture to it, for the low low price of 123 dollars. In the hour that she pored over my face she must have applied 7 different creams, placed a boiling hot towel on my face at least 10 times, she squeezed out some pesky clogged pores (wish she had warned me what she was doing….ouch).  The last thing she did was put a masque on – you know, the ick that goes on smooth and dries until you feel your face crack? Except she put it all the way down to my neck and shoulders, not the most comfortable experience of my life.  But I do have to say, my face is so soft, and looks healthy. And I was so nice, I let her keep the expensive cream.


Back I sauntered into the waiting area, and was brought a delicious coffee. Everyone there was so nice and friendly. I could get used to this luxury, you know.


My last treatment was a full body massage. I could have stayed on that massage table forever. I laid belly down, and within seconds I could feel heat spreading through me. This fancy massage table emanated heat too – it was just blissful. My masseuse had the hands of an angel, and her ministrations left me so relaxed that Gumby looks tense next to me. She asked me at the beginning of the session whether she should go soft, medium or hard. I asked for hard. She worked out all the knots of tension in my shoulders and my back, I am sure she used a little reflexology on my feet too (and I am usually so ticklish but I was beyond that sensation…weird). She spent a long time on my back, and even tho I wanted to just revel in the sensation my mind was drifting big time, trying to solve my problems, while I was supposed to be relaxing. I guess after a while of inactivity when you are not used to it, you start getting antsy to get back to the real world. I kept having to bring my focus back to the moment, telling myself to enjoy it. She ended off with giving me a scalp massage – I have never had one before and I want one at the end of every day now. That was just the best.


I spent a good few hours there, had a manicure and a pedicure too, so I feel pretty good physically, I feel that I look good – but of course today is another day and everyday stresses and strains are still there. But it was a great experience and I would totally do it again.


Driving home it started to rain, and I got rear ended. The rain came out of nowhere in sheets and the guy behind me mistimed his braking. No automobile damage, thankfully, but my shoulder is a little sore….maybe I need another massage…….