My blog absence has been noted and my only explanation is the beginning of the fall holidays, my birthday, the kitchen could finally get organized and  was in a funk.  This years was the first year since dating and marrying Jim that I spent my birthday alone. Katie  and Steve invited me over ( I didn’t tell anyone here it was my birthday) but I admit I wanted to wallow, take a long hot bath, watch a Robert Altman movie with a cranberry marguerite and then snuggle up in bed with Abi while I read a gripped Alan Furst novel.  I could have done tashlich today with the congregation at a nearby lake. But the lake was located in a posh neighborhood and didn’t feel simpatico. SO instead I chose the Willamette River across from sellwood for the quiet solitary service. This year was unique. I had kept for the first time ever my promise to myself not to gossip and it was finally accomplished only by distancing from the people who would encourage me to gossip. Perhaps staying connected to them would prove my will power but it’s an overwhelming temptation for a recovering goss-a-holic. Nor did I find a mikvah for YK, so I may not do that this year either. Jim’s card to me discussed that this was a special birthday for me, a Re-birthday one might say as I reconnect  with the self that is most resilient and admiring of her behavior. As I lay in the Jacuzzi under bubbles that threatened to take over the room, I thought that a year ago my life would consist of stasis or going down hill. Never did I imagine I would be in such a new and beautiful and soothing place, making friends and a life and a home all over again. But this time doing it  with joy not desperation. The women’s book group was small but choice and next month a few people who needed more notice will attend. We chose a simple little book, nothing taxing or expensive or hard on the soul. No Cynthia Ozick and Murakami… but a Fannie Flagg book and that seemed to comfort the participants. Tomorrow the new week may bring me new tires and a bench painted black and close in on the days before Jim makes his monthly visit. I miss him strongly and it’s really time that he start his life here rather than attending to the deadness of the south. He has promised he will live here full time in December and I have promised him fruits and berries and all sorts of wonderful  foods from the new kitchen. I will try to wrangle an invitation my a family thanksgiving guest from my childhood and revisit that delicious tradition. Shana Tova. L’chaim