Shehecheyanu: Sustaining Us To See Another Day

Modeh Ani, again. Thank God. Cottage cheese last night did not put me in a cottage but all's still a vacation. Never got me a summer cottage but did get me the cheese. Medical science experiments of rats finding their way back to their holes. Pied Piper drowns them and we all live happily ever after--after hearing a flute. Or is it a shofar? Flutes or shofars? Or both. One soothes; the other warns. Warning, swarming. Better to be warned than not. Expect the worse and when the worse comes, it will have no impact. My father blew the Shofar; my grandfather played the Flute. They were a duet. He plays the piano because he cannot find a job. Built a business of his own because no one would hire him. Better Business Bureau put him out of business--business is better: when one minds his own business.

No fleas, no rats, no mice, no Pied Pipers, no holes, here. Plenty of cheese. Wisconsin kosher cheese. Farmlands of cheeses and cottages in New Buffalo, Michigan's snowed in. No cottages for rent--but getting imported cheeses. 8 grams of protein in every carton of milk. A Land of Milk and Honey without money. Blessed, but not lucky. Lucky, for the Irish. Never to see the light of day again. Blessed to come out of a rat hole. Blessed to keep God; but trap rats. Snap! Caught one! Let him go: do not trap on the Sabbath. Hire a flute player/shofar blower duet instead. Sweet melodies in the morning--still not mourning. 91, 92, 93... years old. God Bless America!