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By way of the Homer Counter, I found this Omer calendar listing forty-nine Biblical women upon whose qualities we can meditate on each day of the Omer. There is a kabalistic tradition to assign one of seven sefirot (loosely interpretted as facets or qualities of God) to each of the seven weeks of the Omer, and to then assign one to each day of the week, creating a matrix of sorts where each of the forty-nine days has a unique combination of two sefirot* (or is represented by the doubling of a single sefira). The women assigned to each day embody the particular combination of qualities for that day.

Although I'm coming to this late, I hope to spend a few minutes each day meditating on these women for the remainder of Sefirat haOmer this year. Today's person is Devora, one of my favorite Biblical figures overal. She was a judge, a feminist, a prophet, a poet (basically, everything I want to be). Also, my mother's (Hebrew) name was Devora, so if I didn't love her** enough already, that would only strengthen the connection.

* Yes, there will be two days containing any given combination of two sefirot. However, the order is important as well; each day's concept is defined as the sefira for that day within the sefira for that week. So chesed sheb'gevura("lovingkindness within strength") is different than gevura sheb'chesed ("strength within lovingkindness"). Follow the link -- she explains it better there.

** After I wrote that, I realized that this sentence is ambiguous. Then I decided I like it that way.

Today is Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day). I have neither the time nor the mental energy to blog at length about it, but since I nearly forgot myself, I thought I'd toss up the reminder for my readers. If you do nothing else, grab a paperclip and put it on for the rest of the day. I just did.

Update: As persephone correctly pointed out in the comments, the Biblical Women Omer Calendar was, in fact, correct in placing Yom HaShoah on the twelfth day. And it should be obvious to everyone why I didn't pursue a career as a math professor.

-=-

Today's figures in the Biblical Women Omer Calendar (which I talk about here) are Job's daughters (round two). After a moving description of why these women (and the very fact of their existence) are fitting for a day of Hod shebeGevurah (glory wthin strength or limitations), I read the following:

This day of the Omer is Yom haShoah, Holocaust Memorial Day, so it is appropriate to remember both victims of undeserved suffering and the new lives survivors have been able to build. Yemima, Ketziah, and Keren-happuch mark this day of mourning as well.

I can see how R' Jill Hammer* made the mistake initially; if you look at a calendar, yesterday would have been marked as "Holocaust Remembrance Day," and we counted 12 last night. But if you're going to put together a big document like that, and make a point of mentioning Yom HaShoah and establishing a relationship between it and its day of sefira, then you should at least double-check to make sure you have the days matched up properly! It also would have been perfectly appropriate, in my opinion, to have noted that today is the day after Yom HaShoah and that the existence of Job's daughters symbolizes the rebirth that comes after darkness and destruction. It also would have been apropos to suggest Dinah (yesterday's woman) and the quality of Netzach shebeGevurah (endurance within strength or limitation) as representative of Yom Hashoah...someone who has her life snatched away from her, who witnesses destruction on every side, and whose voice is silenced.

* Yes, I use the title "rabbi" for people who have received non-Orthodox semicha (ordination). If you don't like it, you can go hang.

The Knish. Like The Onion, but more Jewish and with mustard.

(Thanks, Ari B.)

(Happy now, Richard?)

After a short Pesach break (we think the Carnival went away to Miami this year), Hevel Haveilim is back! What is Hevel Haveilim, you ask? It is Hebrew for "Vanity of Vanities," and it is the title for the Jewish blogosphere's own Carnival of the Vanities. You can thank Soccer Dad for starting it up. Basically, if you wrote something about Judaism or Israel on your blog, and you want free press, you tell the VoV host and you get a nifty little link along with a snappy line or two about your post. You can find links to past editions of VoV here.

This week's edition has been updated (as of Monday morning). Anything you send after this update will get forwarded to our next host, Shiloh Musings, though you can just email her yourself at shilohmuse [at] yahoo [dot] com.

And now, without (much) further ado, I give you Hevel Haveilim #18...

As with any off-site link on devarim.com, I make no endorsement of any posts linked-to below, or any other content you may find on those sites.

Josh Cohen of Multiple Mentality takes a look at just how much it costs to be a fully observant Jew around Passover. It's quite a lot.

A little while ago, Atilla wrote about the four stages of kitniot (you know...denial, anger, fear, and humor), not from a halachic point of view as much as from a psychological point of view. Or, as some readers Pillage Idiot readers would probably say, from a juvenile point of view. (Yes, yes, even though Pesach has been over for a week, you should read it.)

Our founder Soccer Dad blogs about Dan Okrent's piece on the New York Times coverage of Israel.

The bush was not consumed in Dzeni's Yom HaShoah-directed fractal art.

Cosmic X wrote up a piece about last week's Jonathan Pollard rally in Jerusalem. Some of you may be surprised about who showed up.

Over at Biur Chametz, Zman Biur wrote a bit about Jeff Jacoby on U.S. media bias. I've been told that it got a mention on Backspin.

Little Green Footballs posted a picture of a Suicide Blimp.

A recent Washington Post headline reads: Some Palestinian Aid to go to Hadassah, Israel. You can read the Elder of Ziyon's take on it here. Or, for a slightly different point of view, check out Mystery Achievement's post, When Democracy is Beautiful.

I wouldn't be truly vain if I didn't mention my own blog here, so allow me to direct you to this discussion about sheitals (you must read the comments).

Finally, our next host, the muse, was just bursting with good stuff from her own blogs to share with us. It seems that there are those who call Baile Rochel the Erma Bombeck of YESHA. Two more in the saga came out recently. Me-ander also takes wisdom . When the muse muses in Shiloh, no one's immune...and here's a proposal to make more countries recognize Jerusalem as Israel's capital

The muse has next week's Hevel Haveilim! Send your submissions to shilohmuse [at] yahoo [dot] com.

It's Iyar. The month of Yom HaZikaron (Remembrance Day), Yom HaAtzma'ut (Independence Day), Lag BaOmer (er....bonfire and haircut day?), and Yom Yerushalayim (should be self-explanatory). Also, my sister's birthday (17 Iyar). Yippee!

No, nothing of substance yet, and I know I have comments to respond to (and, yes, Stella, a meme interview to post), but I really, really, really want to share with you an analysis of Sith font (and its relationship to Hebrew), and Vader's blog, The Darth Side.

(Thank you, DovBear. Twice.)

I opted into this meme from Stella's blog (on the earlier April 28 entry). She asked me five questions that I have to answer on my blog; the first five people who request it (either in the comments to this post, or via email) will receive five questions each from me, which they must then respond to on their own blogs. And so on. (It only took me two weeks of on-and-off writing to get around to finishing my answers, too.) Anyway, Stella's questions and my responses...

1. I'm genuinely curious about the many religious restrictions you voluntarily follow. How about an example or two, and why you believe following that restriction is good?

This is a tricky question, because I don't choose to follow or not follow each individual restriction (or positive commandment) based on whether I think it will benefit me. Rather, I elected to live within a certain framework, allowing a little bit of wiggle room where something just doesn't work for me. My primarily reason for making that choice is not my belief in God (which comes and goes, and is tenuous at best) but rather experiential evidence that belonging to a certain type of community, and following a certain lifestyle, is beneficial overall.

But for a specific example, I'll cite observation of Shabbat (the Sabbath), specifically the restrictions. There are thirty-nine categories of "work" prohibited on Shabbat. On a broader scale, these restrictions ensure that for a twenty-five hour period each week, I am not working, not cooking, not shopping, not road-tripping...basically, my life is slowed down, and I have plenty of time to talk to my husband and friends, curl up with a book, go for a leisurely walk, or catch up on sleep. Sure, you could set up "me-time" without a religion telling you to do so (and I strongly encourage everyone to have regularly scheduled time like that). But I think the obligation (and the community pressure to fulfill that obligation) is what makes it work for me. I can't "cheat" just one time to go to the movies or drive to Maine for a Saturday afternoon, and sometimes that's frustrating, but it also means I can't "cheat" and go to work on a Saturday morning, or use up all of my resting time on a Saturday afternoon cooking food for a party that night. On the flip-side, it ensures that many of our friends are all having set-aside time at the same time we are. We frequently share Friday dinners and Saturday lunches, or make plans to meet for dessert, board games, a walk, or whatever. It does bother me that this group (usually) consists only of other observant Jews, but on balance it's still better than not having that group at all.

On the micro scale, where we consider Shabbat restrictions such as not grinding fresh pepper or only heating up certain foods in certain ways, I just generally appreciate the intricacy of the rules. (I'm weird like that.) It forces me to think about all of my actions both during and before Shabbat, to really prepare for this set-aside time. It also makes for good conversation at the dinner table.

2. You've probably seen a lot of spoiled kids, having grown up on Long Island. What, in your opinion, are the best and worst things a wealthy parent can do to raise well-adjusted, self-reliant children?

best: Spend wisely while living just below your means. That doesn't mean that you should deprive yourself and your family of every luxury, but just because you can buy both $200.00 pairs of shoes doens't mean that you should. The best way to teach your children about the value of money (and to live that lifestyle) is to consider the worth of every dollar spent. I can't offer exact examples, because what's worthwhile really varies from situation to situation. It's not as simple as making a budget and socking away money in savings. If an expensive once-in-a-lifetime opportunity comes up, and it's worth the money, you shouldn't forego it just because you don't want your kids to see you spending a large chunk of cash on "fun" all at once. Even regular expenses - yearly trips to Europe or whatever - can be "worthwhile." But buying a fourth car for the household because your two teenagers keep squabbling over who gets the car after school each day? Let them learn to hash it out between themselves.

worst: Either extreme...either giving the kid everything s/he wants all through childhood and young adulthood (no self-reliance if they never have to work for anything), or forcing the children into (relative) poverty to "teach them the value of money" (builds resentment of the parents, and is a financially dumb move besides).

3. When was the first time you genuinely felt religious, as opposed to just repeating what you learned from your family/school/etc.?

Hmmm...I don't know how to answer this question. I can't think of a "first" time, and I don't know what you mean by "religious." I definitely felt an "other" when this happened, but that wasn't the first time. I definitely had such fAnd it didn't make me feel religious, per se, it just made me aware that there was (or is, or could be) Something paying attention to what's happening on a micro level. I get that sort of feeling every now and then, and (usually) I like it.

[I bounced back and forth about whether to put this paragraph here or in the answer to question #1. -s] I have positive associations with many of the rituals and observances in my life. Is that "feeling religious?" Most of the time, however, observances, restrictions, and prayers feel routine, but I do them anyway because I feel personally obligated to, or because I know that on balance I will prefer to have stayed within the rules whenever possible rather than picking and choosing as is comfortable for me...is that "feeling religious?"

4. If you and Julian were able to move back to New York and maintain the same standard of living that you do in Boston, would you?

Two years ago, yes, but now school concerns are a bigger issue for us. (No, I'm not pregnant, but we're anal over-planners.) Generally, we are not thrilled with the Jewish day school options in NY; there are too many of them, and that means that each school is so narrowly tailored to a particular philosophy that your children never meet anyone different from themselves. (I'm oversimplifying, but whatever.) We're not 100% certain our children will go to a Jewish high school...we may switch them to public school after eighth grade; it's a decision we'll make on a case-by-case basis with input fromt he child iin question. But religious elementary school is almost certainly happening, so this is a concern for now.

Retirement, though? It's either Jerusalem or Manhattan, and we both suck at learning second languages, so...

5. Imagine it's your last meal on earth, all dietary restrictions lifted. What will you eat?

I know this is going to disappoint you, Stella, but I don't have any strong urges to eat anything blatantly non-kosher (like pork or lobster or a cheeseburger). I would probably go to a four-star non-kosher restuarant with some world-famous chef, request a tasting menu "without x, y, and z," and feel guilty the entire time.
Maybe. It really is a quality-of-food (and prep) issue for me; even the best kosher restaurants probably match only their mid-to-high end non-kosher counterparts. I might end up sampling non-kosher wines and cheeses, but I don't know. Maybe. I don't keep kosher out of fear of posthumous punishment - I do it because I just think it's the right thing for me to do, and just because it's my last meal on earth wouldn't make it any less right.

Inspired by an Indian-themed potluck for Shabbat dinner and a last-minute Quince de Mayo celebration last night (like Cinco de Mayo, but ten days later), Avi (a/k/a avtherav) helped us come up with some lovely food-centered names for our future children. World, prepare to meet: Biryani, Ghee, Cilantro, and Raita Giora Gorfajn. In case you can't tell, the oldest and youngest are girls, and the middle two are boys.

It's actually kind of disturbing how well those names work when you say them out loud. Except Ghee...it would be kind of cruel to name our son Ghee Giora Gorfajn. The poor kid will probably feel like a failure for not stuttering enough.

I haven't been to a dentist for a cleaning and checkup in...a really long time. Let's just say that, until a few minutes ago, I didn't have a local (to Boston) dentist. I called up Julian's dentist's office, hoping that he could take a new patient and figuring I'd have to wait two or three months for an appointment. Good news: he's seeing new patients. Better news: they have a cancellation. For tomorrow. At night.

Now let's just hope I don't have any cavities.

I just came home from a lovely dinner with naomi chana and elf, after which I had a terrific time getting only a little bit lost in Cambridge while dropping people off. I strongly encourage everyone else to go meet up with imaginary friends; it's fun!

I spoke too soon. Four cavities. Four! I guess the single, solitary cavity that was discovered when I was nienteen was starting to get lonely in there.

OK, we're actually just under halfway to Shavu'ot (from Pesach), but Nigella Lawson's column in today's New York Times Dining section is all about cheesecake. I'll still be making my tried-and-true, dense-as-a-brick-but-much-tastier, plain cheesecake this year, but I'm earger to try one (or more) of these other recipes, too.

I recently started reading through Amanda's Quaker-path blog, and found this passage describing one's search for God:

Sometimes I think of it like this - God's playing hide and seek with us. After we finish counting and open our eyes, if we just say. "Hmm. Can't find thee. I give up." it's no fun, and there's no game, no relationship. But if we keep looking everywhere, getting more and more puzzled, I have this slightly blasphemous image of God in his awesome divine hiding place, bursting out into giggles, really pleased with himself, cause He's winning. If, after we've searched and searched and searched, we finally tumble to the ground and say "Fine, fine, fine! YOU WIN! OKAY? CAN'T FIND YOU! COME OUT! OKAY? I SAAAAAID, YOU WIN!" then He'll come chuckling, and maybe even gloating a bit, out of his hiding spot. He loves this bit, even better than if you'd found him.

The bitch of it is, He never seems to get tired of the game, so as soon as you admit defeat, and He shows himself, He's all "Let's play again! Again! Come on!" and disappears.

Hmmm...

...to Episode III, of course. What, you thought I was talking Rambam?

(Ahem. DovBear found it before I did.)

Update - 24 May: Things appear to be in working order. For now.

The Gmail monster is eating my love letters. Until further notice, if you are sending an email to my Gmail address, please also send a copy to my old BU address, but put in @gorfajn.com instead of the @bu.edu part. If oyu don't have the BU address, send it to my blog/spam address and hopefully I'll see it. If the message shows up in my Gmail account, I will read it (and respond, if appropriate), right away; if not, you'll have to wait until I get home.

First strawberries, and now onions. I've never been so glad to not live in London.

I have to say, I'm not sure where to draw the line between use of modern technology and basic knowledge of biology on the one hand, and common sense and following the spirit of the law on the other. Sure, there probably are teeny-tiny insects in our onions and on our fruit, but there are certainly even tinier things living on just about everything we put into our mouths. The halachic standard, as far as I know, is that you can't eat those bugs that are visible to the naked eye. That's...arbitrary. Many of these little critters are made to be hard-to-see - green bugs on green vegetables, black ones on seeded fruit, white ones inside onions - so we're already at a disadvantage there. Obviously, different people have different levels of visual accuity, and just because your near-blind grandfather is the one checking the lettuce, that doesn't mean you're allowed to eat half-inch long insects. There has to be some kind of objective standard.

But...are we losing our minds here? Remember, there's always going to be something small that you don't see. They didn't have lightboxes and vegetable wash two hundred years ago, and I'm pretty sure no one was pulling apart onions layer by layer and rinsing each piece off in vinegar before cooking. From the sound of it (I haven't seen these infested onions first-hand), I'm guessing that the average person wouldn't notice one of these bugs without first having it pointed out to her, and even then it may be tough. I won't even approach the issue of these new issurim (prohibitions) and complicated cooking preparation methods are being put forth by rabbinical councils made up of (drumroll, please) men, when the vast majority of the people shouldering the extra work with each new edict are (wait for it) women.

(Both links from Bloghead.)

(Cross-posted at KosherBlog.)

OK, it will probably take more than a minute to read it. A few minutes, maybe. And I haven't read it yet myself, because I haven't seen Episode III yet (ten and a half hours and counting), and Ari B. said it has spoilers...but, really, what could I be spoiled for? Is Anakin going to join the Dark Side or something?

Anyway: Revenge of the Sith in 167 Lines

I was going to post about Episode III (which I saw last night), but then I woke up this morning and saw that Sars wrote all about Lucas and his villians (and his general lack of literary awareness) and, well, she rocks, so go read it.

Verrry interesting...

(especially given some of the comments to this DovBear post)

Update 11:45 A.M.: Yay! I stumped 20Q.net with "a case file."

I find this fascinating. It's an A.I. attempt at Twenty Questions, and I have yet to stump it. Though, to be fair, I haven't played much yet. (Brought to my attention by pauline.)

And, on a sadder but more human note: Postcard Secrets. (Thanks, Madeline.)

Lots of stuff to blog about from the weekend, and maybe this time I'll actually get around to writing some of it, but int he meantime please head over to Kadima and congratulate Alisha on her college graduation!

(I'm very, very proud of my Spinach Knisha.)

To clarify... I'm not asking for a gift of any sort. I'm just lamenting the current state of my Scotch collection. My friends have good taste and keep cleaning me out of the good stuff.

Just in case you have $50-$70 burning a hole in your pocket, and have an incontrovertable desire to buy me something, I am either out of or almost out of the following Scotches:

• Lagavulin
  
• Talisker
  
• Dalwhinnie
  
• Glendronach
  
• Oban
  
• Macallan Elegencia (12 year sherry cask)

Nope, no birthday coming up, no gift-giving holidays, no graduations or major accomplishments or any other special occasion. I'm just...informing you. You know, just in case.