[

mood

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impressed

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So this weekend was "replace the rotting garage roof weekend." This roof was porous. Drippy. Not protective in any way, shape, or form. My elderly Italian neighbor (who feeds me regularly) has a brother who is pretty competent with his hands and has been after me to fix it. Said he would help. Told me what to buy. Showed up.

Weekend was busy. Tore off roofing material....well...the old man tore off four layers of ancient shingles with a pitchfork and I kind of raked it off the roof. During this exercise I felt rather despondent at the large hole we managed to poke in the old roof with the pitchfork. He saw this as an opportunity. We put the wheelbarrow under the hole and shoveled the shingling down into the wheelbarrow. I see the result of my own neglect. He sees chance for efficiency.

Then tore off underlying planking....or at least the old man showed me how to lever it off with 2x4s and then did a great deal of the work....and he also noted that I should perhaps be careful when tossing the planking off the roof lest my glove get caught in a nail and carry me off the roof with it. Apparently, this is a common construction problem. He, of course, didn't wear gloves (I did spend much of the weekend admiring those hands, and it isn't the first time I've been amazed by old hands).

Then took down the old joists....or at least the old man sledghammered them off while I kind of fiddled with a claw hammer and pry bar. Then I ran off to get more nails while he put up new joists. I did, however learn how to notch wood with a skill saw, which is kind of a handy new craft.

He then went off to a wedding while I sat at home with leaden arms.

Next day, we put the new plywood...I managed not to fall to my doom between the empty joists while he cautioned me not to fall to my doom between the empty joists. He cut the plywood to fit and I helped screw them down while he constructed this sort of box-like structure to conceal the ends of the joists where they projected from the garage. It looks fantastic and I look forward to hanging plants from it soon.

Finally, up went the shingles. He berated me for attempting to carry a full bundle of shingles up to the roof and told me to do it a few at a time. I thank him for accommodating my spindly character. I did remember the delight of using notches on the shingling to line things up and I'm quite pleased with the very straight lines I achieved. I laid shingles. He nailed them down. All of them.

During the whole process, I really do feel that I was being gently managed. I think he noted that I'm rather hard on myself for errors.

His response? You don't try anything, you don't make any mistakes.

First day was nine hours work. Second day was eleven. Yes, an entire roof torn off completely down the joists and replaced in two days by an old man and a scrawny me and a very helpful and patient wife.

Throughout, my wife cleaned up, dragged old planking to the dumpster and wheelbarrowed away the debris, much to my new old friend's delight.

This is the third time I've been outworked by the elderly. Remind me to tell you about the other incidents.

This of course, does not include the many times I've been outclassed in kitchens by elderly, but you kind of expect that.

So, it be done. It looks good. I am thankful. I learned much. I urge you to take a close look at the wrinkly folk that preceded us. We shall not see their like again.

[

mood

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angry

]

I offer my total and complete condemnation. These horrible acts among Palestinians by Israeli ordinance is wrong. It is wrongheaded. It is completely contrary to everything that I believe makes me a Jew. If there is a place for it in our Law, I am ashamed.

It will gain us nothing.

It brings us closer to losing everything.

It makes us other to ourselves.

We must address this.

How will this make us safer? How will this make my family's children and the children of our friends safer as they walk to daycare in the morning? How does this stop their bus from blowing up? How many humans did we just create that in the space of a heartbeat lost everything? In our names?

Unless you have a direct answer to that questions in the previous paragraph, I don't even want to hear from you. We are judged by such words. We are judged by our beliefs that are made evident on the flesh of others. I say that with too many doctors in my family to believe anything else. Flesh is precious. Healing is hard. Death by violence is ugly and shameful and wasteful.

Everyone bleeds the same color and drinks the same water and eats the same wheat.

Humans are not numbers. They cannot be weighed on your balance. You are not G-d.

Each human is a creation of beauty and we should know this.

God creates us as brothers.

It takes the work of our hands to make us enemies.

The work of our hands is turned against us.

Now how will we regain a blessing and distribute it? How will we be mature enough to realize that feeding people is way better than killing them? Every gun is a wasted opportunity to have made something beautiful out of the blessing that sustains us all.

We have have spit in that blessing's face.

For all our little guns will look paltry to the storms that brew in the changing of the great balances, the energy distribution systems of our home. Our only home. In the whole universe that we know about.

Oh G-d I hope we find the wisdom to grow. To sit still. To kneel for a moment and reflect. We exist on a puff of beauty in a space that does not support flesh. We dream. We plant tomatoes. We hand our neighbours oversized zucchinis and grin at the ribald jokes of the seasoned Italian couple next door. Way better than chopping their lips off with machetes.

Life is about what we can grow. Life is about what we nurture. We nurture fear. We nurture greed. We nurture speculation on the price of rice futures that makes the rice too expensive for those who starve. We nurture instant gratification over any other value. We nurture bombs among human beings.

I am furious at the stain that has just been left on our collective soul. We drafted our own script. We had power, we used it. We are authors of our own destiny. We are always a part of our destiny, even the parts that get us killed.

I have hope.

I hope that we live. I hope that we still have a place in our communities. I hope that the actions that have been taken can be healed. I wonder aloud at relevant humanitarian and politically neutral aid.

I hope that every family that has lost their daughter or son or father or mother or combination of all of the above can also one day turn their face inward and find peace. I don't even know what to say to them. I cannot speak of you in third person any longer.

I don't know you better than I do, and I should. A bomb should never be unleashed near children. There is no honor in it. There is no profit. There is nothing in it that is a tribute to G-d. I speak my belief and I feel this to be true. Those who live through it can be the greatest shield against it happening to others. But you have to want it. Want peace more than vengeance. And I say before you that I have no reason for you to give up your vengeance.

But there is this.

Peace is walking down my street unmolested by anyone. Peace is lots of different colors all standing around their dogs in the park complaining about the cold.

And it means that children's arms don't get torn off.

So those of you who pray, I ask you to pray with me.

I pray for peace. I believe in peace. I believe that peace is never bought with explosives. I believe that tomatoes are way better.

May we find forgiveness in our time.

All my love,

Bernard Sandler
Baruch Aaron.

[

mood

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optimistic

]

Not much changed outside today. The weather has been great the last few days, and indeed for much of the summer. But this bit of warmth and sun, and soil descending into sleep is a treat that I have enjoyed in the garden.

The moon is still out there, dancing around us. As it will many years from now. And I know, no matter how old my eyes get, she will always be beautiful to me.

None of this changes. Except that which we are foolish enough to destroy with our inattention.

I only see hope where I see action. I only believe in what people do, not what they say. I believe that serving breakfast to 130 people who are hungry is bloody hard work and is the absolutly best way to start a day.

So we have had our words. You have chanted "Yes I can". You have been astounded by the courage of your choice. Now act on it.

I admire Barack Obama for his words underlining the need for personal responsibility. I honor Senator McCain for his devotion to the service of his nation, and to his record of that service. If you chose to live in the example of either of these men, you would be a credit to yourselves.

And so I hope that people are willing to move. To choose to do more. To stand up, grab an urn of coffee, and fill a few dozen cups with steaming coffee goodness.

And then, you make an even deeper choice. You stop looking to colors and flags and banners. You stop looking at names and parties and borders. We stop choosing ideas that require the tearing apart of human flesh and the destruction of homes.

You look at the earth. At this unreal blessing floating so fragile in a universe that could not support us without this blessing. And you look at your garbage. And you look at your waste. We must reexamine how much we are willing to give up, to achieve so little.

And then we put aside the words and actually compost. And buy less crap. And find more of our income to give to support our communities. And find more time in our lives to do the same.

And we find friends to help us.

I love my wife Hope. I love the life she has given me so far. I love my home and I love having my friends in my home. I miss all of my family today and hope that each of them is safe in those cities we inhabit so many miles apart. May the choices we make be blessings upon our children.

My only wish is that everyone, everywhere can be safe and happy and fed in our homes. May we be willing to bring about the peace that will make this possible. May we have that kind of courage.