Sunday, April 08, 2007

Too pooped to party

Our first seder (at our local synagogue) ended at 11:30. That was just for the three and a half of us who actually stayed to sing most of the songs that come after "chasul siddur Pesach," the "official" end of the seder. I don't think the cantor had ever before heard Chad Gadya with sound effects--"woof woof" for the kalba (dog), meow for the chutra (cat), baaaa for the gadya (kid, meaning baby goat), etc.--and he certainly seemed to be getting a kick out of them. Thanks to our 2nd-seder's then-kids for teaching us that minhag/custom. It's fun to be a little silly after all that seriousness.

Speaking of the second seder and the former kids (both of whom were there), we got home from that one at about 1 AM, after lots of singing and talking, about the seder and otherwise. (The baalat habayit and I go way back--I've known her for longer than I've known my husband). We had a wonderful time.

On Friday night, we got home at about 1 AM after having a delightful Shabbat Chol HaMoed Pesach (roughly, the Sabbath that's on an Intermediate Day of Passover) dinner and yack with some friends.

Yesterday, I went to a "Shir HaShirim Songfest" at which we sang just about every song we could think of--folk, Israeli-folkdance, choral, whatever, in Hebrew, English, and even one in Latin--from the Song of Songs, which was read in synagogue yesterday, Shabbat Chol HaMoed Pesach, at Shacharit (Morning Service), in accordance with tradition. Since the chap running the show was very happy to say that he usually learned a new song at every Shir HaShirim "marathon," I contributed a solo (a cappela, of course) of Chaim Dovid's "Brach Dodi," from MOChassid's "U'Shmuel B'korei Sh'mo" CD. The host said it was a beautiful setting, with which I heartily agree.

I left while they were still singing, and still got home too late for Mincha (Afternoon Service). (From now one, I'll have to remember that, if I hang around after kiddush long enough to get to someone's house in mid-afternoon, I should do Mincha before I leave the shul.) But by the time I was finished Maariv (the Evening Service) and havdalah (the prayer to end the Sabbath formally), I felt like a limp, not to mention limping (see next post) dish-rag. So, instead of going to the Klezmatics concert, I hit the sack (with a resounding thud) at 10. I must be gettin' old, or somethin'. Oh, well.


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