I haven't blogged in a month due to my work obligations and the fact that I have apparently run out of space for my photos. I haven't had time to do anything other than grade (although...let's be real--I can stretch a grading task to ridiculous lengths), and I haven't felt I could devote any time to resolving the space issue. So...I've maintained "radio silence" of a sort. Since sunset last night, however, we are officially marking the first day of Chanukkah, so it seemed like an auspicious time to get my fingers tapping on a blog entry.
Anyone who has read this blog since the beginning of September is probably well aware of how much I have loved being here. I've truly made the most of my time by exploring the city of Worcester as well as relatively nearby cities. I haven't minded being alone. While I've missed my husband, kids and friends, I have to admit I've enjoyed the opportunity to see and do things on my own idiosyncratic timetable. I have to acknowledge, however, that I have been particularly blessed to have hosted friends, my daughter and husband (on a repeat visit just over a week ago), so loneliness hasn't really been something I've faced..until yesterday.
Chanukkah is not a major Jewish holiday. In fact, it's not really a Holy Day at all--it's the commemoration of a military victory. That said, it's fun and we tend to make it a bigger deal than it was probably meant to be. It's all part of that "lighting candles to spite the darkness" thing that so many cultures embrace at this time of year.
But, as I discovered, it means more to me than I realized. It means celebrating with friends and family through song and food and old-fashioned get-togethers. It means latkes (potato pancakes) with sour cream and/or applesauce. It means lighting candles and brazenly setting them up on the window sills for the world to see. In our house, it means getting a few small gifts for each other which we don't bother to wrap, but rather put under our shirts before presenting to our loved ones.
On the subject of gifts, yesterday seemed an opportune time to send out a gift to my very generous sister. My sister Wendy, aka the WORLD's GREATEST AUNT, has been exceedingly generous to me, my sisters, our husbands and all of our children. She married for the first time just a few years ago, but never had any kids of her own. Instead, she has devoted her time, energy, money and boundless love to the rest of us. I cannot begin to express what that generosity has meant, but I can tell you I am a lucky woman to have such a sister. I love my other sisters equally, but I think they would echo these sentiments as they too have been the beneficiaries of her largesse.
So...when Wendy asked me to buy her some porcelain, it was a no-brainer. Wendy wanted porcelain, I would get it for her. The factory is just a few blocks away, and I am delighted to have an excuse to pop in for a look 'round the museum shop. The previous sentence, while true, is a bit misleading. The factory closed down about five years ago, so there are no new pieces of Royal Worcester porcelain in production. The Royal Worcester Porcelain "factory" stands empty; the neighborhood of the Diglis Basin is littered with empty buildings such as The Bone Mill, The Throwing House, The Parian House, etc. The Royal Worcester Porcelain Museum features pieces dating back to the earliest days of the factory to its closure in 2007. The Museum Shop sells pieces with the reminder that they are used and irreplaceable. They will wrap up the porcelain, but they cannot afford to ship it due to the extraordinary cost of insuring anything they sell.
I found a lovely plate featuring some of the techniques I've seen demonstrated at the Museum, and a beautiful demitasse coffee can and saucer. Wendy sent me some pounds with which to make the purchase, but since her birthday was coming, I decided to add to it. One memory my sisters and I share is receiving a phone call from our mother on our birthdays and listening as she said, "I'm sitting here looking at your birthday gifts. I'll try to send them soon." I shamefacedly admit I do the same thing. The treasures I bought have sat on my dresser for a month.
Finally, in the spirit of Chanukkah gift-giving, I took the cup and saucer and plate to the local Mailboxes, Etc. and inquired about sending it the safest way possible to my sister's home in Tucson. I knew I did not want to run the risk of breaking it myself by carrying it in my luggage or my carry-on bags. I'll be traveling to Turkey, the Czech Republic, Poland and Germany for three weeks before returning home, so it didn't make sense to drag it with me. It made sense to send it yesterday. Bob, the clerk, told me he used to deal in antiques, traveling to the U.S. on a regular basis. He encouraged me to consider carrying the pieces myself, but I demurred with the above-listed excuse. He quoted me a price--a bit more than I had paid for the pieces--and requested all of the particulars. I gulped and handed over my credit card, knowing in my heart it was the right thing to do. And then I returned back to my flat.
I picked up my mail which included a card from my sister, and then I settled down to listen NPR's annual "Hanukkah Lights" program. I cruised Facebook looking at all of the Chanukkah messages and photos posted by friends, and started to feel a little blue. Okay--let's call it what it is--HOMESICK. I leisurely opened my mail, saving my sister's card for last, and then opened it. It was a cute card featuring that great concluding scene from "It's a Wonderful Life" --only the family was gathered around the Menorah wearing Kippot. The legend on the card reads, "It's a Wonderful Light". Inside the card were photos of my son and his "lady friend" as well as my sister and nephew. There was a little envelope taped inside the card, labeled "Wendy's Chanukah Gift to Debbie" (btw--the only people who can call me "Debbie" are from my family of origin--so don't get any smart ideas). I opened it with curiosity, and read:
"The porcelain you bought for me...IS YOURS!! Tell me how clever I am..."
I laughed in disbelief. The irony was truly delicious.
Well dear sister--we've always acknowledged your cleverness. But this time, the joke's on you.
Merry Christmas to my Christian family and friends! Chanukkah Sameach to my Jewish family and friends!
P.S. The varied spellings of Chanukkah are all part of the fun.
Your story in itself is delicious. Thank you for the lovely, most charming, read of my day. :-)
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