Lately have been singing Silent Night to Jonah to calm him. That song is so beautiful it almost makes me want to convert. Take note, missionaries.
Primarily due to Jonah’s Jewish grandmother, and a few others, his first Hanukkah was a success. And the wrapping paper was delicious.
Friday was a lovely good-bye sendoff for Bryan at his office. Gifts, words, a slideshow, and we surprised him by showing up.
Then Saturday we had a Hanukkah party to mark the end of the holiday. I have finally found, I think, the potato latke recipe for success. It is a mix of my mother’s and a family friend’s. I also used a family friend’s recipe for brisket. Jewish food can be yum-o. Come to our next thang and I’ll show you.
Sunday evening Bryan declared the Jets curse is over in our family. He does “not want Jonah to be subjected to the same misery”. Might be too late.
And then today. Today. The fourth day in the past week of snow in London. It may not be sticking, but this has to be a record in itself.
The big weather news out of the mid-Atlantic in the U.S. over the weekend also meant my annual bout of homesickness for that beautiful pure whiting out that you can only see for a few minutes in a city, a couple days in the suburbs and for ages in the country. My parents both live in Virginia about one hour apart from each other. Snow… the great unifier. I was very pleased to see that both sets of parents sent me gorgeous photos, including their respective pets knee-deep in the powder. And both sets were invited to impromptu dinners by close-by neighbors they had not previously befriended. And both reported great times. So from afar I say, thank you snow.
And speaking of missionaries and Hanukkah, my father thought you might like to hear a Hanukkah song penned by a Mormon senator. Mormons are just so good at everything! Except beer pong.