Was wondering if I could get some help with a phonetic translation. When he was a kid, my husband's bubbe used to tell him something that sounded like "fazumfadeer" or "vazumvadeer". She has been deceased for a while now so we can't ask what she was saying, though we know she spoke fluent Yiddish. Any help is appreciated, thanks.
I have three hockmessers (fleishig, pareve, pesachdig) but no bowl to use them in. Best I can find is a flat cutting board with a bowl-shaped indentation in it, and it's expensive, or a bowl maximum 9 inches. We used to have a bowl that was a good foot or 14" in diameter, but the wood dried out and cracked (after probably 70 years of use) and we're afraid to use it now because of possible bacterial growth in the crack. We keep the potatoes and onions in it now. Most of the wooden bowls sold online are either flat bottomed, which doesn't work with the curved blade, or else are made of bamboo which would probably shatter if I tried chopping in it.
(Edit: Now I wonder if that's repairable with wood putty or something similar.)
My mother always used this to make chopped meat; I never realized that if you buy ground beef, you don't really need to chop it again, but I guess it's like the story of the woman defrosting her turkey with a colander over it. ("but you don't have a cat...")
(Apparently a hockmesser is now called a mezzaluna, if you're looking online for it.)
Another thing that's become unavailable is a hand-cranked meat slicer for Shabbos. They only sell them with motors these days.
My Father had my Grandmother cremated when she passed 2 decades ago. At the time I was too young to really have much input or influence over the situation, but I know it was vehemently against her wishes. He hated his Mother and was pretty cruel to her. It has pained me over the years to know her wishes were disregarded. No one sat Shiva for her. My Mother is Catholic, so therefore I am not considered Jewish. I am going to bury her in February at King Solomon where her plot is in Brooklyn, next to her Mother Esther. The anniversary of her death is February 12th. I want to honor my Grandmother in ceremony and prayers. Can anyone recommend anything I can do? I plan on saying the mourners kadish. I was thinking of sitting Shiva, but she passed in 2001....and I recently moved to WA state and I dont know anyone here. I'm not sure if anyone can recommend a ceremony or prayers I'd be so grateful.
Lil Bubba* lol (song ain't mixed yet)
https://reddit.com/link/jvxswh/video/ap9lcffoauz51/player
Even when the show is being wholesome it's still hillarious.
Drunk, gambling, fighting, shooting his mouth off at the legion.
So all day today I've been fielding phone calls, also people walking up to the counter. "Can I order masks? (No.) thermometers (no.) hand sanitizer (only at customer service, limit 2 per customer) tylenol (no, but we have the generic ... oh, you only want brand. No.) hydroxychloroquine (got a script? No? No.) and so on.
Not that anyone can pronounce that last.
But we were perplexed by a rash (ha.) of callers asking for castor oil. This is not something we ordinarily stock more than one of, so I asked one customer why suddenly everyone wants this ancient purgative.
"Didn't you know? If you smear it on your chest, the next day the coronavirus is gone!"
. . . . . what.
Where in Heaven's name do they come up with these ideas. I've heard of people using it externally to (try to) prevent stretch marks after pregnancy, but this makes no medical sense whatsoever. It's right up there with suspending a needle by a string over a pregnant lady's abdomen to see whether it's a boy or a girl by which way it points. It's the kind of conversations that neighbors had over their back fences before modern communications were invented.
I finally asked one of them, and she said it was in one of those publications they give away at the supermarket exit.
I swear I want to track this author down, take her gently by the neck, and ask her (and it probably is a her) what she was thinking, if anything.
edit: apparently it's some kind of radio broadcast, and their entire staff is male, so I take that bit back.
So things have been quieter on the Batty Bubbe front. Or at least, slightly quieter. SO basically laid down the law and she is in therapy for her anxiety and childhood trauma and everything else going on with her. I wish she'd take the anxiety meds, but one step at a time I guess. FIL has outright told her if she fucks up his chance to have a relationship with his grandchild he will divorce her. Have I mentioned I love him?
But of course things couldn't stay quiet. Because obviously not.
Now, context: Batty is a bonkers neatfreak. As in you can eat off of her floors neat. This does not extend to anything people can't see, like her oven (the old one caught fire because she doesn't clean that shit) or cabinets (pots and pans are just thrown in).
This obviously extends to animals. SO was not allowed to have a pet as a child. Not even a fish. SO is a big animal lover. So is FIL. I am a huge animal lover- my mom is a vet. We had everything that creeps, crawls, has fur or scales growing up. I also entered into the relationship with two cats and volunteered at the animal rescue for a while.
So I was at lunch with SO and FIL (who was back in the country). A friend of mine at the shelter mentioned they had an owner surrender of a super elderly dog (due to her age because people are shit), and sent me a photo. Turns out this elderly dog was the same breed as FIL's childhood dog, and was the image of her. FIL starts telling me how when he married MIL he would keep his dogs at the business (he's there at least 12 hours a day, SO covers 8+ that only sometimes overlap, more when FIL is out of the country, and there's always someone there at night as well as the store attached is 24 hours). And he gets this look to him. We leave lunch and think nothing of it. Until SO went to work the next morning (he works with his dad).
SO walked into the office and there was the geriatric dog, snoozing on a heating pad with a big bowl of food right next to FIL. Tail was going happy wag. Geriatric dog now will be living at the office and is very happy with the setup. The employees are also super happy with it.
MIL finds out and freaks the fuck out. Because apparently my SO working around an elderly dog means it will kill the baby? Doggy has arthritis and doesn't jump. Doggy doesn't have many teeth. Doggy came from a home with many children. She just wants to chill on her heating pad and get pets. FIL tells her as much and laughs. Cue major CBF.
When I got pregnant, by the
... keep reading on reddit β‘
