Archive for the ‘wedding’ Category
Many many many many years ago on a beautiful sunny autumn day I impulsively bought myself a pair of fur lined (well – fluffy) snowboots that lived safe and dry and warm in the boot (trunk) of my car. They stayed pristine white and virginal for over seven years – they were like my own little insurance policy against that little dirty four letter word. If anyone is gonna slip and slide and fall on their face, or their tail, it’s sure to be yours truly. Snow is no friend of mine! Yuck, yuck, yuck!
I was upset yesterday – I couldn’t believe the weather. I frantically searched my shoe cupboards – I have a lot of them – for my now very mucky stained, well used and abused and trusted and very much loved boots. I don’t care what they look like, or how I look. If there’s one itsy bitsy snowflake on the path, I will not leave the house without them.
I don’t remember the last time it snowed in London in December and now tonight (Thursday) it’s really coming down. I’m still recovering from last February. Actually I’m not sure I ever shared this story with anyone in the blogosphere, but my friends and community dined out on it for months and people stopped me in the street and the supermarket and the butcher and the baker and told me they’d heard what happened.
Do you remember ten months ago when this country ground to a halt? Even I watched the weather channel that day which is quite something seeing I tell certain weather obsessed people (you know who you are) if you want to know what the weather’s like, turn off the tv and put your head out the front door. I was going to Israel again expecting to be almost snowed-in there like the previous February (2008) when I had to get out the Gush for meetings in Tel Aviv in time for my taxi driver to get me there and for him to get home before he got snowed-out!
Thankfully on the day of my departure the snow in my area was practically gone so, minus snowboots, we – that is me and Gary (a good friend and my trusty driver) left the house at 6.00 a.m. We had barely gone 5 minutes when the traffic report came on to say Luton Airport was closed. We’d heard the north of the country would be snowbound, but I guess when they talked north they meant north of London. I tried to call the airport but only got pre-recorded messages so we battled on. The motorways were chock-a-block and gridlocked because of jack-knifed lorries so Gary assured me he knew another way – huh – a route that had not been gritted. Not totally unsurprising since the big news was the country had run out of salt and grit!!!
We got stuck so many times and slid all over the place. Hours later we neared Luton only to be waved down and told not to go on a particular road since nothing had moved in almost two hours. Grateful for the information, Gary reassured me again that he knew yet another way, so we unstuck ourselves in reverse and miraculously got out of there. The next road, an alternative route to the airport, had also not been gritted and was a sheet of ice. All the cars were sliding all over the place and nothing was making progress. We looked at each other and I said I felt sick, not bad traveller’s kinda sick, but scary sick and Gary had visibly paled and confessed he felt the same. He was not his usual chippy chirpy self. We had no choice – we had to abandon the car and walk the rest of the way. Gary, bless him, said the arrangement was for him to get me to the airport and so he did.
It was freezing – the snow was almost up to our knees – okay I exaggerate a little – my knees, his calves! What a gentleman – my hero – he schlepped my case and 45 minutes and a mile-and-a-half walk later two very wet and bedraggled souls entered the airport. My first port of call, the ladies, to get out of soaking wet socks, trainers and jeans. Many airlines had actually cancelled all flights; mine hadn’t and eventually, hours late, we took off – the atmosphere and camaraderie at the airport and on the flight was fantastic, but please please please, I would not want to experience that again. I came home two weeks later and everyone knew – Gary, my super-uber-hero had told everyone. I did reward him well – he was worth it.
So, back to today – that is if I get this posted, since my lights are flickering and I’m watching Grumpy Old Women at Christmas – they are so funny and it’s funny watching Maureen Lipman and Leslie Joseph, two prominent Jewish personalities, moaning about their Christmas preparations. Sorry, got distracted.
A good friend’s daughter, Sarah, is getting married this Sunday – oh and Rachel is bridesmaid again – just thought I’d mention it. Well they have been friends since nursery school. Rachel and Sarah were Gemma’s bridesmaids. Sarah and Gemma were Rachel’s. So Rachel and Gemma are Sarah’s. Aaaaah! A lot of Sarah’s family live in Israel and are flying in today and I’m putting two of her cousins and spouses up for Shabbat – that is, if they get here. The wind is howling and it is snowing – horrid – ghastly – freezing – wet – cold – settling on the ground – my road is an ice rink – that kinda snow, not the pretty pretend stuff on this page.
I’m praying they get here safely. I’m praying everyone gets to the wedding safely – especially the bride and groom. I’m wondering how my snowboots will look with my evening gown…
… and I’ve just booked to go to Israel again this February – with my snowboots!
Yesterday I was at a beautiful wedding – not large by Jewish standards – around 170 guests. I used to live across the road from these friends and knew the bride 32 of her 33 years. I didn’t know at the time who lived in the house opposite because I used to work in the City, leave home early, get home then collapse in a heap. However, my neighbour obviously knew my movements, because as soon as I stopped working to have my first baby, there was a knock on the door and that was the start of a new friendship and the start of becoming part of a community and an amazing circle of friends. Being so close in every possible way, we obviously got to know each other’s extended families, so I knew all the Hull side that came down to London and the American branch too — it was lovely to reunite and catch up with so many people on such a joyous occasion. Sadly I had to go up to Hull a couple of times recently as my friend lost first her brother and then a few weeks later her father also died – so to be celebrating a simcha together was especially beautiful, one that the Rabbi said in shul on Shabbat was long time coming – and no one took offense. Good for the bride – she waited until it felt right and her new husband is a truly wonderful guy – long may they be blessed .
The chupah took place in a beautiful West End synagogue; the ladies and men seated separately. Everyone is aware of my single status so a good friend jokingly remarked, “Look at that lot over there,” referring of course to the men, “which one would you take home?” The truth is that the men across the aisle while most certainly losing their youthful glow (and their hair) and most now in retirement mode were great guys. I knew them as good and honest and respectable, decent people, all I’m delighted to add still happily married to their long term spouses. I just smiled, but the thought did cross my mind that I didn’t think any one of them would actually want to take me home.
I did have a wonderful time; the bride was s-t-u-n-n-i-n-g… she is very very tall and very very slim and she wore a gown I had never seen the likes of before and I don’t think I could do it justice trying to describe it, but when I told her that I thought it was very Carrie, of SATC fame, she said that was the best possible compliment. As I said, I did have a wonderful time, but!!!! I don’t brood on it, but something was definitely missing. The bride and groom were not so young, in fact someone told me the groom was about 38 and it made me think back because at that age we were celebrating No.1 son’s Bar Mitzvah. And then it really hit me; this was my old crowd, my good friends. We’d shared simachot and sad times and children and grandchildren and the ups and downs of life together for over thirty years, yet one was missing and he should have been there; we should have been there together, dancing like we all had done together twenty years earlier, still the same, but now just a little worn in the joints.
So, I look around at all my friends and wonder. Can I leave you now? Is it time to up sticks and move away from them? I am blessed to be part of a lovely community, to walk into synagogue and not feel a stranger, to know I have such a wide circle of friends locally. Yet — I don’t live near a single member of my family. I moved to this area where my husband and his family lived when we got married 34 years ago. My mother, my brother, my aunts, uncles, cousins and now my son and daughter all live in North London.
The days of spending afternoons with friends and children are long gone; the days of entertaining each other, making dates ahead of time so we could get babysitters are long gone. Some are retired and globetrot, many owning second homes abroad. Some are grandparents and Saturday night is likely spent babysitting. On days off, ‘ladies who lunched’ has now become ‘retired couples who lunch’ – which is all lovely, but where does that leave me? Oh, I’m not moaning, just noting that the whole dynamic has changed. I hardly see them any more. Sure we still talk, but you can chat to anyone, anywhere at the end of a phone.
Apparently Jamie who, bless ‘im, is an open book, told a friend of mine he had seen a house he liked. She told me this across the dinner table last night. Jamie sees all my friends. He commutes back to Chigwell to work and near his office are hairdressers and beauty salons that they frequent, so he sees ’em all and they all love him —- he’s such a shmoozer. When I mentioned that maybe I’d buy his apartment there was a stunned silence around the table. Another friend asked me to repeat myself and then the first friend said, “What about book club?” Well that was exactly why I had formed it – for selfish reasons. As I just commented, I wasn’t seeing anyone, but I wasn’t losing friendships, everyone’s lives are so full and different now. This way I was seeing around 12 girlfriends every month, every one of them avid readers. I would never give up my baby, my book club – I’d still come back every month and see the girls, which is moreorless as much as I see them now… and at engagements and weddings and funerals.
So now I’m off to Jamie’s neck of the woods to take a look at the run-down house he wants to buy and renovate and take a closer look at his place which is literally down the same road. Maybe it really is time to move on, as they say! But don’t tell mother – I haven’t told her yet – much easier for her health and mine to wait until it is a fait accompli.
– Baal Shem Tov
I can’t believe it’s been so long since I posted… I guess I should call it a semi-sabbatical, but I haven’t exactly been resting on my laurels and I have done a little lurking and a little commenting here and there, although on many occasion I really haven’t had anything to say for myself that was any different or any more original than what had already been said.
More or less as soon as we were back from Israel I was preparing for all the Jewish Festivals, lots and lots of them, four weeks in a row. As usual, good ol’ Ann had assorted houseguests and dinner guests. Then, because I was off work for all of them (actually the office was closed) I’m now working more days and longer hours to play catchup. I am also undergoing a course of weekly medical treatments (nothing sinister) which I hope will do me a lot of good healthwise, but I have to schlep to Notting Hill for them. Sadly the reason I am free this afternoon to post is because some poor soul caused the Central Line to be suspended and I couldn’t get there today. When I heard this news, my initial thought went to the people at Rachel’s work; seems today is redundancy day and I had horrendous thoughts of someone losing their job and hurling themselves under a train… echoes of the Great Depression.
I am reading voraciously. Amongst other good reads, someone recommended Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale… well it was different and compelling and evoked much discussion, which I would love to share with anyone who has read it. I seem to have been suffering from movie-mania lately too and chilling out in front of the box. I saw an ab brill film called The Illusionist; loved it loved it loved it. Also got to see the latest James Bond offering… boring boring boring.
Are you my friends across the Pond still debating the Presidency? I’m knackered… I found it all so fascinating I was up till 2.30 a.m. until exhaustion and a little common sense (yes I do have some sometimes) forced me to my bed. I’m wondering if the words on Obama’s lips is: “That’s another fine mess you got me into Stanley George!” Excuse me if I am being somewhat naive and okay, so he’s the first black American president, but have I lost the plot? Surely his colour is not an issue. Did he not win because he was 1) the better man for the job and 2) after 8 years of Bush/Republican rule… say no more! Good luck Obama… you will need tons of it and tons of support and I hope the honeymoon lasts for ever.
The wedding, and planning it, took on a life of its own and overtook mine. It was worth it; the whole trip was amazing, awesome, wicked, wonderful and many many more words I cannot begin to think of to describe it all. From the moment we arrived, not counting various meetings with the wedding planner, the venue, the band, the designer, etc, the rest was fun fun fun. Lots of cocktails and dinners out and parties as everyone arrived, then the Friday night saw 46 of us together for Shabbat dinner. The next morning was Daniel’s aufruf held at his late grandfather’s synagogue (near the British Embassy) followed by a beautiful meal in a hotel nearby. After Shabbat a girlfriend of Rachel’s took us to the mikveh; it was like a spa and enhanced this particular mitzvah. Sunday we were meant to chill out… yeah, some hope because the next day… drum roll, was THE DAY!
Okay, now the pics above are not the official ones and I’m sorry they are out of sequence; it’s the way I downloaded them. These were taken by my ex, Rachel’s daddy, so of course there’s none of yours truly 🙂 shame!!!
The first three pictures of Rachel are in the yichud room where she is waiting for Daniel to come and perform the bedeken ceremony following the tish (all explained in blue print below if you’re at all interested). The room was beautiful and these photos don’t do it justice. The official photos, when I do get hold of the disk from the young couple and download them on to this decrepit machine (or a new one if I ever get my act together) – has anyone got any suggestions for a good lightweight efficient effective laptop – not an apple? Where was I, oh yes, those pics will be much better but I’d better not hold my breath waiting for them.
Bedeken and Tish
The bedeken, which translates as “veiling,” is the groom’s veiling of his bride immediately before the ceremony. The custom is said to be based upon the Biblical story in which Jacob, intending to marry Rachel, accidentally marries her older sister Leah, who wore a veil. In addition to having the groom verify that he is marrying the right woman, the bedeken is often preceded by singing and dancing around the bride, who sits on a thronelike chair. Traditionally, the men gather around the groom for the tish, or groom’s “table.” At the tish, the nervous groom traditionally attempts to deliver some words about the Torah portion while his friends and family take the pressure off by constantly interrupting him with jokes, toasts, singing, and dancing. At the end of the tish, family and friends carry the groom into the bedeken for veiling and continue singing and dancing around the bride. Even if there are aspects of these customs that seem to be based on anachronistic values, such as the separation of men and women and the contrast of the bride sitting to be admired for her beauty, while the groom tries to teach, it is recommend that thinking about ways to incorporate the traditions that are comfortable and consistent with their values. They offer a way to start the celebration early and to get everyone in the right, festive frame of mind. If the gender separation is not something one feels comfortable with, the two ceremonies can be combined in one place. Some brides also try to teach something, an update that is quite popular. Finally, even if one doesn’t want a public bedeken, some couples do the veiling in a more private location, such as the rabbi’s study at the synagogue or in the yichud room.
The next photo is one of the first of the couple officially married after the chuppah… as I said when I get the official ones… blah blah blah, yeah yeah yeah
UNDER THE CHUPPAH
The “chuppah” is the most universally recognized symbol of a Jewish wedding, the structure under which the ceremony takes place, generally consisting of a cloth canopy, sometimes a tallit, beneath which the bride and groom stand. The wedding ceremony itself is sometimes referred to as the “chuppah,” often on invitations announcing the time for the ceremony. The ceremony itself is a conglomeration of legal recitations and customs. The wedding ceremony consists of two parts, erusin (also called kiddushin), which is the legal agreement by which the bride and groom are betrothed to each other, and nissuin, the nuptials and the active beginning of the new union between the bride and groom.
Circling is a great example of a custom with multiple variations that is attributed to different sources. The numbers of circuits is usually either seven or three. According to one variation, the bride circles the groom alone, while in another, she is escorted on either side by a bridesmaid with a candle. Sometimes, the bride is accompanied by the singing of a traditional hymn or with nigun, a wordless melody. The custom of circling is attributed to multiple sources and given multiple explanations. One source cited for the custom is a verse from Jeremiah: “for the Lord hath created a new thing in the Earth, a woman shall compass a man.” (Jeremiah 31: 21). One source for three circles is a verse from Hosea with three descriptions of God’s betrothal to Israel: “Thus says the Lord, I will betroth you to Me forever. I will betroth you with righteousness, with justice, with love, and with compassion. I will betroth you to Me with faithfulness, and you shall love the Lord.” (Hosea 2:21-22) The number seven is generally considered a number of good fortune in Judaism, and is attributed to various sources. One Kabbalistic explanation for the number seven is that it symbolizes the removal of seven shells of solitude encrusting the groom’s soul, so that it can be encompassed by the luminescence of his bride. As we mention above, many couples opt to update the custom by having the bride and groom walk around each other, or by having both walk around the chuppah together. No matter what variation feels most comfortable to the couple, they are encouraged to think about incorporating the custom of circling. It has endured as a custom for good reason; it can have a powerful effect on the bride and groom and everyone present.
The ceremony traditionally begins with greetings, customarily taken from Psalms (118:26), both to all present and to the bride and groom. The erusin ceremony then begins with the kiddush, the blessing over wine, followed by the birkat erusin, the betrothal blessings, after which the couple drinks the wine.
The Ring Ceremony
According to tradition, the central act of erusin is the groom’s giving and the bride’s acceptance of the ring, coupled with the recitation of the Hebrew formula known as haray aht, which translates as, “By this ring you are consecrated to me as my wife in accordance with the traditions of Moses and Israel.” The groom then completes the erusin ceremony by placing the ring on the bride’s hand, traditionally on her right index finger, which stems from the ancient belief that the index finger was directly connected to the heart. Today, many couples make the ring ceremony reciprocal by including the bride’s placement of a ring on the groom’s finger, accompanied by the bride’s recitation of either the same formula as the groom (haray atah) or with the recitation of another verse, such as the Hebrew verse that translates as, “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.” Some Orthodox couples prefer to separate the bride’s placement of a ring on her groom’s finger by doing it later in the day, such as during yichud. Traditionally, in order to separate the erusin ceremony from the nissuin that follows, the ketubah (the written marriage contract) is read aloud and then handed by the groom to the bride. At some weddings, the groom hands the ketubah to the bride at the time of the bedeken.
Nissuin begins with a second kiddush, followed by the sheva berachot (the seven blessings) and yichud. The sheva berachot begin with the blessing over wine, then praise God for creation, for human life, for the bride and groom separately, for fertility and children, and finally in the sixth and seventh blessings, for the companionship and joy of the bride and groom together. The ceremony concluded, the groom then breaks a glass, and the bride and groom traditionally retreat to yichud, a moment of seclusion in which the bride and groom can share their first meal as newlyweds.
Breaking the Glass
Few Jewish wedding traditions are as well known as the groom’s smashing of the glass at the conclusion of the ceremony. Different explanations for the act of breaking the glass abound: that it reminds us of the fragility of personal relationships so that the bride and groom take care to their intact; that it ushers in the outbreak of celebration that should immediately follow, that the breaking recalls the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem, so that we remember sadness at the height of personal joy. Two older explanations are that the shattering scares off any demons attracted by the event; or that it symbolizes the consummation of the marriage.
Yichud is a time for the bride and groom to be alone together immediately after the ceremony. It is actually the final legal requirement of the wedding. (According to Jewish law, the requirements for a wedding are the birkat erusin, the recitation of the haray aht formula coupled with the groom’s placement of a ring on the bride’s finger, the sheva berachot, and yichud.)
AFTER THE WEDDING
With the ceremony completed, it is a mitzvah — a religious obligation — of the guests present to bring joy to the heart of a new bride and her new husband. You have to love that , a religious commandment to party. Sheva Berachot Dinners Sheva Berachot dinners are a way to keep the wedding celebration going even after the wedding day. In the Orthodox world, these dinners are held for seven nights after the wedding, after which blessings for the bride and groom are recited by someone present who was not at the wedding.
The next two pics are Daniel’s after dinner speech and Rachel lovingly lapping up every loving flattering word… aaaaaaaaaah! Then there’s a line up of my lot with their spouses and my two ab fab fav little people. The next five shots are of the venue, which was absolutely breathtaking and dazzling in the sunshine, but even more spectacular lit up at night… official photos will paint a truer picture, when I get them etc etc etc.
Totally out of order are Boaz and Moriah enjoying the pool and then there they are scrubbed up for the big event. They had an absolute ball. Following on are pics of the night after the day before. The first of the sheva brachot (see above in blue if you like). This particular one was hosted by Daniel’s parents and siblings and was lotsa fun and yummy. The next evening we were invited to another given by Daniel’s uncle and aunt and his many cousins. Everyone was incredibly welcoming and hospitable. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much… all absolutely scrumptious and delish. Well that was until the chagim (festivals) and I’m still struggling to lose weight; the story of my life. I had fewer trick or treaters this year and bought so much stuff just in case, so have been dipping into that naughty bag of goodies… too too many treats… all chocolate! I should’ve bought things I don’t like, but there’s not much; I’m not that discerning.
Talking of Halloween, I learnt something interesting recently. Here trick or treat means if you don’t give whoever comes-a-calling a treat, they can give you a nasty mean trick, e.g. throwing eggs at your door or windows or car, or putting something ghastly thru’ the letter box, which makes Halloween here pretty scary and threatening. However it seems that in America, trick or treat is much more family and friends orientated and a jolly affair and trick or treat means whoever comes-a-calling can be given either a treat (i.e. confectionary) or a trick (i.e. magic). Why does this country get it all so wrong?
Okay, back to the rogues gallery. The last two shots are Rachel’s bridesmaids and bestest friends since they were babies.
Believe it or not, I am actually here for the whole of November, but it’s gonna be a busy one. I’m on another learning course again this month (gotta use the grey cells) and I’m also learning Israeli dancing every week this month to raise money for a particular cause in memory of a dear late friend of mine. Then… I’m away in December… twice. In four weeks I’m going for a long weekend to Israel to see the little ones and then I’m going back to Florida to chill out and have some fun with Brian and Diane over Christmas and the New Year. I have another trip to Israel booked for February – something slightly different, more of which nearer the time – but after that, the way the economy, and my economy, is going I think I shall have to review my wanderlust. I got a tax rebate. I should be happy. I’m not. It was my money. It also meant a drop in income, a big drop. Before this awful business, I was doing my sums and thinking about an early retirement, now I hope the boss wants me even more days in the new year.
I shall finish with a few words that came to me one night after I returned from Israel and walked into my house alone and realised that was it, they were all gone and building their own homes and families
each one takes
that little piece
of you they need
then they’re gone
no more to you
now they belong
to someone new
no more whole
a hollow soul
of an empty nest
For the V-Vixens who blog every single day, unlike some of us who not only don’t get to other blogs, they don’t even get to their own.
I was getting daily calls saying, “We’ve decided.” Great, I think, now we can move ahead. Then she says, “… but we just wanna sleep on it.” The next day another call. “We’ve definitely decided.” Great, I think again, but this time it’s the other venue. In a space of two days we travelled the length and breadth (well there’s not much breadth) of Israel and narrowed the possible venues down to two; a sea location near Caesarea and beautiful magical gardens with strutting peacocks in Herzliya. My daughter is not known for indecision, but I think she’s very concerned that her beloved is happy with their decision. We have a date set; the beginning of September; the one date that both venues were available. It is barely six months away and still to be organised is the music; they want simcha music (Israeli dancing) and then a DJ playing into the wee small hours. Also caterers do not include booze, so we have to employ a bar company in addition to the caterer. Then most venues are plain and devoid of decor, so a designer has to be brought in to give it the WOW factor… and then of course we have to organise flights and accommodation, etc etc etc. One thing that’s booked so far is the photographer!
I came back from Israel last week totally pooped. Thank G-d Bridgitte, my daughter-in-law is now well, but I promise you, women in their 50’s who want to be first (or even second or third or fourth) time mothers need their heads examining or have a bulging bank balance to employ staff, lotsa staff. The children were absolutely wonderful, I cannot complain about them, but being nursemaid, chief cook and bottlewasher and babyminder was hard work. I love them all, but there must have been kryptonite around because superbooba’s powers were fading fast and drained on a daily basis.
However, I was able to leave my duties and meet with Rachel and Daniel and the wedding planner because where Jon lives they were snowed in again which meant he couldn’t do his daily commute to Tel Aviv so by default he would be at home… I bid a hasty exit the day before the snows arrived and promptly booked into a hotel in Tel Aviv… ah peace and quiet! Wow the weather was horrendous; I have never experienced such a wild storm there before; yes in Bournemouth in February, but not in Tel Aviv… and England wasn’t the only place to be hit by an earthquake; there was a similar size one in Israel whilst I was there.
The next day
Halleluyah… they have decided on the beautiful gardens called Derech Eretz in Herzliya; the venue is stunning and my personal ab fab fav… I do hope we’ve made the right choice!
In the meantime I had a mega surprise on Sunday which was Mother’s Day in this country. Mothering Sunday is really a Christian tradition, so it’s not one we’ve ever particularly celebrated, but Jamie was insistent my old ma and I went to him and Lucy for lunch. I was about to facilitate myself of their facilities but he made me wait to open the door to Rachel. Standing there in a ‘tra-la’ pose was Jonathan. He’d only left me at Ben Gurion Airport a few days earlier. Everyone here and everyone there knew he was making a fleeting trip on business, but were sworn to secrecy. I haven’t had all my children together in the same room since Jamie and Lucy’s wedding last July; it was fantastic.
Tonight is book club yet again. Someone chose The Song of Names by Norman Lebrecht. I won’t go into much detail about the book because it was the debut (well so far the sole) novel of a well known Jewish journalist and music critic; it was merely okay. It reminded me somewhat of Interpretation of Murder where the writer knows a subject and makes sure it’s injected all over the story. Next month is Barbara Kingsolver’s The Poisonwood Bible… another one in the genre I call doom and gloom or o me misera. Next year I think we should find quality writing yet light fluffy and happy confections to entertain us and bring smiles to our faces; does anyone have any suggestions?
Lately I’ve gone back to the quick fix read of Faye and Jonathan Kellerman and Jeffrey Deaver; perfect airport and flight material. Erm, and on that subject I’m gonna try and visit each and every one of you and even leave a comment before I go away. Yes I’m going away. Booba’s on her travels… again, and this time she’ll be stepping out at a different airport.
After coming back from Israel overwrung and overwhelmed and feeling definitely overstressed, on a whim I did something terribly naughty. I found this lonely single flight, that had my name on it, that will take me to Florida in a couple of weeks time.
Annie is going on a real holiday.
I shall be a lady of leisure. Brian and Diane found me a lovely hotel near where they live somewhere in the middle of Florida (I really don’t have a clue exactly where they live) and I am going to put myself in their capable caring hands. I have no agenda other than relaxation and fun… aren’t I awful?
I can’t log off from here without a mention of that other thing, you know the one, that’s either caused me heartache and grief, or has me rolling round in stitches. The internet dating game. I am still talking to the guy who cannot marry me for religious reasons. He said he’s afraid to meet me in case he falls in love with me and that bothers him. I suggested that could work two ways and he said he hadn’t thought of that. I’m prepared to take that risk but I now see on his profile he is looking just for a ‘friend’ when earlier he was looking for ‘marriage’ but he also writes that he wants to meet single or widowed women; obviously not divorced. So it seems there is still a stigma to divorce in some parts. I met someone else who was just leaving for a holiday and he seems keen (perhaps too keen) to meet me. Refreshingly he didn’t ask any rude questions, but he is looking for a wife and that terrifies me. In a way the first guy sounds perfect to me because 1) he can’t marry me and 2) I’m not looking for hubby No.2. It is all so complicated. Maybe I should take bromide!
P.S. If any of you live in Florida or will be going to Disney around that time and want to meet up, please email me; the addy’s above where it says ’email’ … that would be sooooooooo coooooooool