How was Your Thanksgiving?

 Well, I had a lovely Thanksgiving celebration and went to bed happy.  Friday I woke up feeling awful and tested positive for Covid.  It's exactly what happened after our Easter/Passover celebration back in April, which turned out to be a superspreader event. My dear son-in-law suggested I give up spending holidays with family and friends.  

That reminds me of a conversation I heard between my parents.  My mother suffered from psoriasis, and it really is a heartbreak. She tried everything.  One suggestion was that she give up smoking and drinking.  

"Gin!" said Dad, "You can't give up life itself!" He was kidding, of course, but that's how I look at Lee's suggestion.  But let's move on.  I tested negative this morning.

Christmas is coming and also Saint Barbara Day! December 4.  Here's a review of what I've done so far in my  Saint Barbara Series.

I've incorporated photographs of lightning by Photographers Gary Hershorn and my brother Rob, with my drawings.

There's a wealth of art about Barbara, and I still have lots to do. I really like the ones that make her lively, like she looks like she's dancing here.

This is a map of the world we bought in the bazaar in Istanbul.  It's part of the Barbara project because she's from Turkey, and I just like the image so I gave it a nice frame.

I saw this frame at the Met.  Teddy saw this on my drawing table and said, "I saw your new picture, MomMom.  It's pretty good, but it needs some people."  He's not wrong, but I added a pelican. Maybe it's the window and the view from Barbara's tower.

You know I like stories.  I've written before about how Barbara and her father could have had a happier ending; here they are sailing away after a heart to heart talk.

And this is the synagogue in Venice-you've seen it before. I think it connects with Barbara's story of holding to one's belief in the face of oppression.

 It's been good for me to have this little review; I'd been feeling like I hadn't accomplished much.

And here's the latest of the Yellow House. I'm coming to the finish.

 Now for something I have to say.  Our family has been hit hard lately.  Two lives have ended, both surrounded with love, one long and distinguished, full of achievements and good works, one cut short before it began.  I don't have the words but Yehuda Halevi, Spanish Jewish physician, poet and philosopher comes close.

TIS A FEARFUL THING

‘Tis a fearful thing

to love what death can touch.

A fearful thing

to love, to hope, to dream, to be –

to be,

And oh, to lose.

A thing for fools, this,

And a holy thing,

a holy thing

to love.

For your life has lived in me,

your laugh once lifted me,

your word was gift to me.

To remember this brings painful joy.

‘Tis a human thing, love,

a holy thing, to love

What death has touched.

                            Yehuda HaLevi 1075-1141