Thinking of my grandmother Clara Baker Cohen. She was born in 1907 (if I recall correctly) and died on March 17, 1992. Today is her yahrzeit.
I don't really have much to say about her at the moment. She was a violinist and a teacher, and a loving grandmother.
Today is the 50th anniversary of the murder of Kitty Genovese.
If you don't know the story, Wikipedia has a pretty good explanation here: Murder of Kitty Genovese
. The murder took place in the neighborhood that was pretty much next door to the one I grew up in, and years before I was born. But a few years ago, as I was writing an article about Spider-Man for the book Webslinger, my half-brother took me over to the murder site. Genovese's murder looms large in history and the culture, and it seemed to me it would have loomed large for a the teenage Peter Parker as well.
We took a few pictures of the murder site, and I contemplated solemnly what it all meant.
May she rest in peace.
That is to say, it snowed like crazy yesterday--and we'd just had sight of the balcony, for the first time in months, it's buried knee-deep again now--and today, despite the plough having been, the pavements are rather slippery. We didn't realise this until we were halfway to pilates, when I slipped and fell and, since I was holding UD's hand, dragged him down on top of me. He was relatively cushioned. I have a killer headache from bashing my head on ice buildup.
We're going to the vet later. We will be putting the cleats on the boots before going out again. Traction is our friend.
This entry also appears at http://hatam-soferet.dreamwidth.org/778071.html. people have commented there, and you're welcome to join them. I've disabled LJ comments for the time being because of excessive spam.
My eagerness for spring has manifested itself in an urge to do stuff with green fabrics. (These are the beginnings of the designs for two bags, one green with blue and the other green with various purples.)
Hallel, a collection of psalms (mostly), is recited every day during
festivals, among other times. (If you don't go to services at these times,
you may still know Hallel from the Pesach seder.) The g'mara on today's
daf lays out the congregational responses, the custom being for the leader
to recite and for the congregation to respond at certain places (usually
but not always with "halleluyah"). So, what is the halacha of one who
hears Hallel but doesn't say the responses? The g'mara says that he has
fulfilled his obligation. How do we know this? From "even all the words
of the book which the king of Judah had read" (II Kings 22:16) -- was it
not Shafan who read them before the king (ibid 10)? Therefore he who
listens, it's as if he read. But perhaps Josiah read it himself later?
No, because it is written "because your heart was tender, and you did
humble yourself before the Lord, when you heard what I spoke" (ibid 19)
, not read