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All posts for the month September, 2010

WEYBRIDGE? NAH. I’M STILL A PHILLY GIRL

Published September 13, 2010 by jean cohen

Life as I prefer it has finally kicked off here in Blighty!

 

Yes, Proper American Football season has begun.  I didn’t do Fantasy this year.  I just didn’t, and won’t, have the time to devote to it.  But trust me.  I will ditch the Seniors in a heartbeat if they interfere with my grids for March Madness.

 

I haven’t even mentioned the MLB pennant races, and I’ve had a few criticisms about that from readers.  Go, Phillies!  Kick tush. Or whatever.  That’s a task sorted.

 

I was at a birthday party yesterday at friends’ and left after the cake-cutting and ‘happy birthday’ singing.  Strangely, the weather was beautiful, sunny and warm – it was almost frightening.  The festivities were in their palatial gardens. 

 

“Aren’t you staying for dinner” my hostess inquired as I began saying my farewells. 

 

“No.  Sorry” I explained.  “I’ve things to do at home.  I’ve been home a total of one hour except to change clothes and sleep in three days.” 

 

I snagged a slab of Jewish Honey Cake to go, and I needed to get home to change (again!), but this time into my Eagles ‘jammies, pop a frozen pizza into the oven at 190 degrees, and ring Scary Fairy so we could watch the G-men battle the Panthers together- sort of – courtesy of Sky.  Aah… Bliss!

 

Note to readers:  Sorry, but that was the game Sky Sports chose to broadcast.  I rooted for Carolina.  Plus, the second game was the 49er’s, Seahawks.

 

It was an average busy week, plus it was Rosh Hashanah.  I managed to do a ‘ladies who lunch’ lunch and shopping trip with Divine and LiveJerry.  LiveJ’s husband is feeling better now and they’re off for four months to St. Simon’s Island in Georgia, so it was kind of a going away party.

 

I had Buy Design business to do as well.  Carol and I are carrying on despite the defection of our third partner.  I think we’ve found a promising new avenue.  Another lunch, another meeting.

 

I had a Senior Centre committee meeting and a Holocaust Memorial meeting.  And I’m trying to line up vendors for the Sam Beare Christmas Bazaar and scrounge prizes for the Thanksgiving Dinner raffle.

 

Of course, Rosh Hashanah meant more dashing, and outfit changes.  After all, I was on stage, opening the Ark Doors, and I had to do it in style. 

 

I was invited to a posh dinner after services on the second day.  It was lovely, except for a tiny mishap during dessert.  The hostess, serving coffee and cake, told a little story about the family heirloom china service she was using.  As I picked my cup up from the saucer, the handle broke off, spewing coffee all over me, the man sitting next to me, and the heirloom lace tablecloth.  Talk about embarrassing!

 

Checking out all the beautiful New Year’s cards on their mantle, I commented that other than a few dear friends back home, all of my cards this year were sent on line, saving me oodles of time.  At least I don’t have to include ‘what I’ve been up to’; everybody know all that.  It’s in the blog.

 

And on-line ones are so cool with music and graphics and stuff.

 

I had one from luverly Henry in Marlboro, New Jersey, with the requisite good wishes for a sweet year, news, and a wish for ‘the worst to the Bastard of Crumberly’.  I guess that’s the Turd.  ‘Bastard of Crumberly?  Hmm.  That’s pretty poetic.  Henry is such an accomplished wordsmith.

 

He also commented that in mine to him  ‘Philly bred Jeano’ spelled ‘humor’ h-u-m-o-u-r.  I must remember to use American spell-checker in future, not the English version.

 

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YOU’LL NEVER WALK ALONE

Published September 5, 2010 by jean cohen

Not one, not two, but three Blog Police have been on my tush for not blogging in quite some time.  Apologies.

 

What can I tell you?  I’m busy.  All the time.  It’s meetings, meetings, meetings; work, work, work; and social engagements galore.  Sadly, I hardly even have time to shop as an Olympic Sport any more.  I can’t remember anything I bought recently. 

 

Oh yeah.  That stunning black tweed suit for the professional Do JDavid and I are going to in a couple weeks.  But that’s the only thing.

 

It looks like I won’t be getting to Philly this month, and probably not next month either.  There’s too much on.  I’ve joined the Editorial Staff of the Haderech, the synagogue’s newsletter, and somehow I have found myself Chairperson of the Sam Beare Christmas Bazaar, following closely on the heels of the Thanksgiving Feast.

 

I’ve had the first meeting of the ‘Turkeys Committee’ (affectionate nickname) working on this year’s dinner and a posh evening Do to get everyone in the spirit is booked for Anne’s house.  She has more room and nicer ‘stuff’, but I’m hostessing.

 

It’s wonderful to have Tom back in Surrey, but that shoots one night a week I could be doing something else – like blogging.  We’re right back into our routine, including the bizarre conversations that meander into strange directions – the Broadway show ‘Carousel’ led to the TV show ‘The High Chapparal’ which led to Kevin Bacon.  Simple, eh?

 

Wednesday night, for a laugh, BooBoo and I went to the Church of the Poisoned Mind, the first time in ages.  I got a Message from the Beyond!  It was going pretty well; it was, you know, vague enough to mean anything and I was playing along.  Then the Medium Dude said that Harry, the very fat spirit with brown hair who needed to talk to me, was a relative from long, long ago… from the branch of my family in Yorkshire.   “Um, no.  I don’t think so” I said in my best American accent.  Embarrassed, he insisted.  “Think about it.  Are you sure?”

 

“Trust me on this one” I said starting to giggle.  “I’m the only person in my family who’s ever been to Yorkshire.   Maybe Harry meant to say ‘Italy’.  That’s where we’re from.  And trust me again.  Nobody in my family was ever called Harry.”

 

Thursday night was book club.  Again, I absolutely disliked the book.  It’s called ‘Seeds of Greatness’ by Jon Canter.  It’s about this guy who’s a loser and this other guy who’s a winner.  It was witty and sarcastic, when it wasn’t depressing, and the author had an absolute talent for one line zingers. 

 

What did I get out of the book?  Bupkes, except for one zinger which made me laugh out loud and reminded me of lots of people I know.  The context was that Jack’s father was the King of DIY in London, manufacturing furniture that you assemble.

 

‘Doing it yourself’ means making your own phone call to plead with a gentile to come and do it for you.

 

I’m working at the Sam Beare Riverfest on the Thames this weekend, going to hear a pub band with JDavid, and going to dinner at friends’. 

 

This week begins the Ten Days of Repentance, commencing with Rosh Hashanah.  Once again this year, I don’t have too much to be guilty about and I’m sure as heck not sorry about much.  I think my Book is definitely weighted on the Righteous side and I’m in.

 

Yeah, maybe I imploded the Turd of Camberley’s life, but that wasn’t really a big deal.   It wasn’t really much of a life.   And  ‘imploded’ might be  a bit of an exaggeration; maybe I only gave him some serious agida.  Incidentally, Smack has very deliberately dropped off the Witches radar.  I got this really weird email…

 

I said to BooBoo as she read it “Gee.  If I was a lesbian, I’d think I just got dumped.”  “Duh” said Boo, who’s really, really smart.  “She hooked back up with the Turd and she’s distancing herself.”  Hmm.  Interesting guess.  It’s always fun to gossip about why people do certain things.

 

Overall, it’s been another brilliant year.  I’ve grown professionally with JDavid, did my little part of Tikkun Olam, Saving the World with my charity work, and met some new and dynamic people of the right sort. 

 

And lost some who were definitely not the right sort.

 

L’Shanah Tovah.  May you be inscribed for a good year.