Hmmm: Free Will Astrology : Pisces Horoscope

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Free Will Astrology : Pisces Horoscope
Pisces Horoscope for week of December 30, 2004

Pisces (February 19-March 20)
A study at McGill University concluded that moms and dads who launch screaming fights in front of their kids may actually be helping them. Listening to their parents yelling often makes children more imaginative because it forces them into a fantasy world to escape. Can you think of similar reversals in your own life, Pisces–difficult events that have ultimately served you? The coming year will be an ideal time to redeem these gifts from the past. Be constantly on the lookout for ways you can use old traumas and setbacks as sources of inspirational power.

Motherhood and poker

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So Peter and I were downstairs in the basement last night, playing a few friendly mother-son hands of poker. “Hey Mom,” he said, “isn’t this great? I mean, we’re not watching television…”

“Yeah,” I agree with him and smile.

“…being corrupted by all of those commercials…”

“—”

At least I brought him up with a sense of humor. He said we had to keep playing, though, till one of us was out, so we eventually made one hand a winner–take–all, which he won. He was quite proud of himself.

“Mom,” he told me a few days ago, “you know, I’d think your math skills would be a really big help to you in this game.”

I simply sighed. I didn’t want to have to explain to him that every single one of my mathematical skills told me not to play poker, that all gambling games are set up so that the house always wins, in the end at least.

But the joys of motherhood outweigh the practicalities of the Art of Probability, and even Blaise Pascal (who invented probability, after having been asked by a rather dissolute friend of his some simple questions regarding the likelihood of winning at certain games) would have to give me that one.

Sometimes, I even play darts with him, too. The kid, not Pascal.

Snow (cabin) fever

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It’s over a week, I’m told, since our deluge of snow. My poor car is still huddled inside of its snow drift. Buck and I have been “sharing” his car since I’ve been back from upstate NY, if you count “sharing” as convincing him to chauffeur me from place to place at his convenience. Oh, I miss my car, and it’s right out there.

How snowy is it here? I thought you’d never ask… This is the front door of Chez Pebble, yesterday:

snow at home

And, wait! That’s not all! As an extra added bonus, you get a picture of Lucy (on the left) and Beeper R. Kat! Just hanging out together… that’s what they do.

Lucy and Beeper

Still snow

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I have commandeered my husband’s car, since mine still looks a whole lot like a snow drift. He drove both me and Beeper the Orange Cat to the vet’s this morning to have her nose looked at… she’s been getting bloody noses constantly.

Vet says, possible polyp. I may even have to — get this! — get a CAT scan for my CAT!!! I may actually insist on the procedure since it would be priceless to be able to tell that to people. She’s got her amoxycillin and nose drops. My wonderful husband tried to shovel the vet’s driveway a bit, but the snow has hardened into a concrete-like substance.

Must go read!

Shabbat Vayechi, 13 Tevet, 5765 (Christmas Day)

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I called my family this morning from the pay phone down the hall, amidst a couple of curious looks from the more strict Shabbat observers, but it seems to be fairly well-known that I am the token goy, so I am cut a bit of slack. It feels so little like Christmas, and that has me rather overjoyed. Oddly enough.

It has nothing to do with the fact that I sit in the midst of a Jewish institution surrounded by Jewish people. It has to do with the fact that Christmas has gotten too overwhelming in the past years. Is overwhelming the right word? I think not, but I don’t yet know what else to put in its stead.

It has to do with the months of anticipation of the day, begun in August when the Christmas catalogues begin to arrive like an assortment of paper bits of clockwork. “You must get this for so-and-so,” I am told. “No, this,” another sign screams. “And don’t forget about so-and-so’s wife, and brother, and mother, and kids!” “And the dog! The dog will feel left out without a present!” says the television.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” my friends begin to ask in October. Will my niece and nephew be in town for the holiday? And there’s my nephew’s wife and baby to consider, too (I’m a great-aunt, sheesh!). And what about our friend S., and will he manage to have a date this year?

And is it the great, honking turkey I cook, or the great, honking side of beef? The beef is easier but I feel like such a wuss if I don’t make a turkey.

And they must all be bought presents, too. And there’s the endless open maw of the child… “Mom, can I have a ________ for Christmas?” Fill in the blank with your choice of: staple gun, jigsaw (the saw, not a puzzle), BMW, pair of ice axes, iPod. [He’s actually asked for all of these, though not for the same Christmas.] He’s also very open to suggestions for suitable substitutes.

Instead of all of the above, I’ve had a nice, quiet day. There was a lovely teaching by Reb David on today’s parashat, and a Torah service, but I didn’t go to that. There was Shabbat lunch, and a restful afternoon. Shalashudis is soon, then havdalah and some music and storytelling. I am surrounded by friends.

“Merry Christmas,” I say to Tzipi, and chuckle.

She smiles back and says, “Merry Christmas! You certainly are an eclectic woman, aren’t you?”

Intense study = light blogging

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Most of my day is spent in class with my fellow maggidim, listening to Erica and Mordechai. After and between talks, there is much to study and think about. Other people get quite jolly and conversant, but I turn into a hermit. This seems to extend to the blog, too.

We are studying the Jacob and Joseph stories very closely — close enough that I regret I do not know Hebrew. Some things simply do not come across in translation. But if I took up the study of Biblical Hebrew suddenly, I’d miss the point, I believe.

I will try to make sense later, and pay attention to what we fondly refer to as “the real world” later. Right now, you have to put up with the incipient maggid in me.

Winter. Upstate NY.

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Single digit temperatures. My fellow maggidim in the class gather. I sit by the fire in the fireplace, warming up, having arrived, parked, unpacked and stowed everything that needed parking, unpacking, and/or stowing.

They’ve installed a wireless network here since August. Oh joy of joys! I can blog by the fireplace. I hope this will take my mind off of being away from my family over Christmas, that great goyische Ur-holiday, for the first time since forever. Peter was giving me lots of guilt-inducing grief last night: “But Mom, I’ll be gone next year….”

We watched the first half or so of Men in Black, and went to bed, and I was off very early this morning. I shouted, “Goodbye, Peter!” up the stairway, but I think he didn’t hear it.

Anyway, here I am.

The evils of the world, in short

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An excellent summation of things worth working against: Ambient Irony: To The Point

The Creationists pushing their fraudulent spin on Evolutionary Theory; the Post-Modernists denying the concept of Objective Truth; the Islamists trying to do both at the same time; the historical revisionists; the Psychics; the “Alternative Health Practitioners”; the academics who see their role being not to teach but to brainwash their students into leftist zombiehood; the “free speech” proponents who want to stamp out speech they don’t like; Mysticism and Obscurantism; the spammers and scammers and hackers who are doing their level best to destroy the Internet; the nanny-state idiots and the totalitarian hadliners who try to legislate problems out of existence: These and more are what I truly oppose.