You know who I am, where I live  and what what I look like, but many of you who commented just signed in as "Anonymous."  It's always easier to attack while protected by a mask, so I'd say that we had an unfair playing field.  At least I stand by everything I wrote, except the dumb mistake when I said that the 39 melachot forbidden on Shabbat were from building the Temple.  They're from constructing the Mishkan, Tablernacle.  I never claimed to be perfect.

You can always visit my blogs, and you can comment/criticize there, too.

Have a Shabbat Shalom U'Mevorach, a Peaceful and Blessed Shabbat!

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I've never checked out the Hebrew date for him; though my husband and I celebrate our kids' (and our own) according to the Jewish Calendar.

My father's father didn't live long enough to be a grandfather, but my father and his two siblings are still alive, bli eyin haraa, the youngest being 80.  My grandmother lived until about his age, and she then had six great-grandchildren.  My father's third, will G-d willing be born within a couple of months, and his elder brother has two.

My father worked as a CPA for many years.  He has survived an aneurysm and can still walk a mile or more without any pains.

G-d willing, he and my mother will be visiting us in Israel in a couple of months.

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You may be wondering about that wall, which is being built.  It's not near shiloh at all.

Yes, I knkow that there are spelling problems in the text, but I can't move the maps out of the way to fix them.  Next time, text first, then illustrations.

The photos I took of the Arab Mansions are all between Shiloh and Jerusalem. There is a building boom, and there's no way that such a high percentage of families could be building at the same time withoout some sort of funding.  The additions are large and well-decorated, as you can see.  It's not just a matter of dad, uncle, sons, nephews working together in their spare time.  These towns hadn't been destroyed first, either.

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They are the creative, in the change ot another form of matter, used in constructing the Holy Temple.

We're talking about cooking, weaving, building, etc.

Twenty-five hours per week to concentrate on the spiritual.

Now to get the chicken ready for cooking and a quick swim.  I like to start early.

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Jews can live in Hebron, Nebraska, or Jericho, New York.  So why can't they live in the original cities of those names?  Look at the destruction of Jewish homesin Hebron by the Israeli army.

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Loehmann's sure isn't. And I'm not referring to the fact that not only is there a dressing room, so one doesn't have to try on between the racks, like it was originally, nor the fact that I saw that they had some private dressing rooms off of the "group" one, at least in the Lake Success, NY, branch. In the "old" or real Loehmann's the clothes for sale were designer, samples, great deals for discount prices. Now, it's just a "low-price" department store. The "old" or real Loehmann's didn't have racks of identical clothes in a variety of colors and sizes. They had "pot luck" closeouts, surprises, rarely a full-range of sizes. That would only be if a store closed before it got to sell what it had ordered. Loehmann's would get the "unsold" from stores which had gone bankrupt. You can fill a couple of stores like that, but now it's a chain with the name.

picture credit

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On previous visits, besides a traditional evening with a cousin in the Jewish Museum on Fifth Avenue, the museums I see are MOMA, Natural History and similar classics. This visit I finally admitted that I've never liked the dinosaur skeletons, and the art ones can be boring.

So I decided to take my daughter's advice and go to a new museum, one I hadn't even heard of, the Museum of Jewish Heritage. A friend and I took the subway downtown to check it out. First stop was the restaurants, because even grandmothers have to eat. Food was great, and the free samples of the soups were appreciated.

We got a kick out of "remembering" things considered "history."

It was almost perfect, until we entered an exhibit with so many "speakers" going on at once, I thought I was in a nursery class for hyperactive kids allergic to all medications. It was too close and crowded, with horrendous acoustics.

I had to flee and didn't get to see everything. I had heard enough!

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