at home with ann

Archive for April 2006


Posted on: 28 April 2006



I’m sure everyone gets cute emails, but sometimes one comes along that makes you think and Liz sent me this one; I would like to share it with you.

A mother and daughter were overheard in their last moments together at the airport. As the daughter was departing they hugged and the mother said, “I love you and I wish you enough.”

The daughter replied, “Mum our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough too, Mum.”

The mother sat nearby me and I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I did not wish to intrude on her privacy, but she welcomed me in by asking, “Did you ever say goodbye to someone knowing it would be for ever?”

“Yes, I have,” I replied. “Forgive me for asking, but why is this a for ever goodbye?”

“I am old and she lives far away. The reality is that her next trip back will be for my funeral.”

“When you were saying goodbye, I heard you say, I wish you enough. May I ask what that means?”

“That was a wish handed down the generations. My parents said it to everyone. We were wishing the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them.”

She turned to me and shared the following, reciting it from memory.

“I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear. I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more. I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting. I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final goodbyes.

I wish you all a happy weekend. To the Brits, a happy bank holiday weekend, to those of my faith, Shabbat Shalom.

Boaz astride a tractor at a local petting zoo, which apparently was a very smelly place, but because of a cold I was spared that…. hehehe

I know I’m biased, but I do have one rather gorgeous grandson and I do like to show him off. I won’t bore you with details of the trip, other than to say this time I really didn’t want to come home. After almost two weeks on a windy hillside near Jerusalem, we left No.1 son’s home for more luxurious surroundings in a Tel Aviv hotel overlooking the sea and sand. With the warm air kissing my skin and memories of my single life there in days of old, before I met my husband, I felt the buzz and energy of the place and wanted to relive those heady whirlwind days. Oh to be young, carefree and single, instead of old, careworn and single…. hmmm.

I have missed you all, so will go surfing now to catch up with your latest news. Oh, but I didn’t miss Finn; we actually met. My first close encounter of an internet friend. Unfortunately for Finn, it wasn’t enough to meet the oldest blogger on the blog, she also had the *pleasure* of meeting mother and Jamie and Rachel. Sorry, Finn, we came as a package… LOL

I have just posted a mrsbg story…. a warning though; mr & mrsbg will be travelling a rocky road.

I do wish you all a good week.

Next week we will be celebrating the festival of Passover or Pesach. No other festival more powerfully embodies the Jewish experience than this one. It is when we remember the time that the children of Israel became a people. We remember the slavery and the oppression of our ancestors in Egypt and all the miracles that led to their redemption. We recite the story of the journey of a people across the wilderness in search of their physical and spiritual home.

But Pesach is more than this. It is not old history ~ it is a continuing story ~ a story of the Jewish people that will never end. We are told in the book of Exodus ….. “That you may remember the day of your going out of Egypt all the days of your life.”

The preparations for Pesach seem to me every year to be a form of *slavery* and, oh how I moan about it, but the difference, the big difference, is that I can savour the freedom to observe this festival. This particular festival is one I observe *to the letter* ~ to me it represents more than just the household cleaning, but there is a sense of spiritual cleaning too. If you are interested in the laws and customs of this festival you can find out more on my *My Religion* link.

The question is asked, “Why is this night different from all other nights?” It is answered by narrating the story from a book called the *Haggadah* from the Hebrew word ‘lehagid’ which means ‘to tell’ and refers to the biblical commandment “And you shall tell your children on that day.” (Exodus). At the end of the story we say the words “Next Year in Jerusalem.” Every year it is my custom to add a new Haggadah to my collection, one with different commentaries and perspective to provoke discussion and thought.

BUT for me this year is a first. “Why is this year different from all other years?” Because this year will be the first time I will be in Jerusalem for Pesach. This year will be the first Pesach I will not be celebrating in my own home. This year will be the first Pesach without my father. This year will be the first Pesach with my grandson, all my children and my mother, four generations together. This year, please G-d, may it be a special Pesach.

I depart Saturday night and will be back just over two weeks later. Enjoy the peace and quiet. I’m sure you will; a rest from my nonsense. No more silly mrsbg stories, no more boring Friday posts, like this one. Gosh, what’s that I hear? I do believe it’s a very large sigh of… erm… relief…. hmmm. Okay, got the message.

In the meantime, a wonderful weekend to everyone and Shabbat Shalom; and for next week, Happy Easter and Chag Semeach.

With grateful thanks to all the contributors of these pictures.

What draws me to this film time and time and time again?

Valentino has the sweetest soul. He is kind, gentle, sweet natured, loving. The poor man is dying yet the depth of his love for the shrill and strident Mary Carmen, the gentle and devoted Gary, his sweet dog Rodney, the children of the dance class still shines. For all his pain and suffering, he doesn’t evoke pity, he doesn’t want you to feel sorry for him, he still wants to enjoy life to the full..

Fantasy. Now, there’s a sport for you…Fantasy, your life. Anything can happen. The truth is just as much an aphrodisiac as fantasy. That’s deep. I read that over the urinal at the bus station. My name’s Valentino. My name’s… Don’t tell anybody your real name. Never. Do you ever… kiss on the first date? Is this a date?

Honey, do something from the film…… Okay.

Little pussy, little pussy, let me in, let me in…

… or I’ll take my cock out and knock the door in.

You know, they asked Rodney to be in this film. I said absolutely not. There’s no dog of mine that’s gonna be in show business.

They could not pay me enough.

It’s better than shaking a cup in Grand Central.


Gary? This is Mary Carmen. Mary Carmen, this is Gary.

Well, I’m glad you guys like each other.

What do you think? Do we like each other?

It’s Halloween ~ So what?

~I’m not gonna spend Halloween night in a hospital.

~ That’s right. Let it go, baby.

~Go, Gary, go! Go! Go! ~ Put it on!

If you need me, call me. No matter where you are, no matter how far

Just call my name, I’ll be there in a hurry

On that you can depend and never worry

Ain’t no mountain high enough. Ain’t no valley low enough.

Ain’t no river wide enough. To keep me from you

Can you at least tell me your name?

Don’t ever tell anybody your real name. No, no.


Somebody named Gary could wear a letter jacket from high school, with medals from winning the 100-yard dash and the pole vault. He’d part his hair on the side and he’d chew Dentyne gum with his mouth closed.

What does Gary dream about?

Gary dreams about kissing someone so hard his mouth hurts.

Gary dreams about kissing someone so soft his heart hurts.

So long, his neck hurts. So deep, his throat hurts.

Gary dreams about kissing someone so completely… that nothing hurts

Things will never be the way that they used to be! Now, I am dying

Work it out yourselves, okay? I’ve had enough.

We’re just trying to take care of you, man.

Well, you can’t even take care of my goddamn dog!

How the hell are you gonna take care of me?

You know.. it used to be I didn’t wanna live without you guys. And now I don’t want to die without you.

My mother used to say: “Be dumb enough to fall in love and smart enough to know better.” At least I got the first part right.

“I could feel the soft, shivering touch of the lips on the super-sensitive skin of my throat and the hard dents of two sharp teeth, just touching and pausing there. I closed my eyes in a languorous ecstasy and waited. Waited with beating heart. I must touch him or kiss him no more.”

the loves of my life

at the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet ~~~ plato

thank you…

... to everyone whose pictures and videos I have borrowed; if anyone would like theirs to be removed, please tell me and I shall be happy to do so

all words here are mine ~ I’ll tell you when they’re not!

from long ago

in case I forget what day of the week it is

April 2006