I have been home for a week. I suppose I should write something. I'm ho-oooome. What's for dinner?
My luggage did finally come a couple of hours before Shabbat. I must have a chat with the airline. They damaged my suitcase. I am not sure whether to be upset or happy. The suitcase was showing its age.
I was ambushed at the door. Gavi organized it, complete with a barrage of stuffed animals and everyone in his/her proper spot for maximum effect. Gavi's rough side has since come through. He has a beautiful black eye to show for it, courtesy of the bedroom door.
Jesse read Torah last Shabbat morning. He read one aliyah. If he would slow down just a touch, it would have been absolutely perfect. It seemed like his eyes moved faster than his mouth. That being said, I was utterly floored listening to him. I left a boy here. He is certainly a young man. His voice is deeper. There is a confidence and maturity to his reading that he did not have in October, despite a skill level in this regard that goes beyond anyone his age, or several years older.
Keren planned a return party. She invited people. When they asked her what to bring, she thought about it and answered the question. People brought cake and other assorted sundries.
I put the cheque in the mail today to the taxi driver in Okinawa. I hope he gets it.