So I sit here after a belated Erev Hanukkah candle-lighting, having first been to a Christmas party performance by Faith Hill (it was a party given by Carl Lindner who owns Chiquita Bananas and Penn Central and the Reds and some other stuff, so he can invite whoever he wants to sing each year).
The candle-lighting was much less musical, but then, I think I can be forgiven for not singing as well as Faith Hill. Matter of fact, I can’t match a note with my voice, so I don’t sing. Anyway, it was just Buck and me at the lighting of the candles. Peter wasn’t going to come downstairs for the candle-lighting if it didn’t involve presents. It didn’t, so he didn’t. His loss.
I don’t know the chants in Hebrew even if I could sing, so I said the prayers in English, and lit the candles, and that was it. They burned for about ten minutes. I can’t leave the candles going in a room by themselves, or the cats will singe their whiskers off, probably.
white pebble 