There's not much left to tell, is there?
Before we get started, I'll just briefly mention that Friday Night Lights was really good this week. Every story line seemed to feature a tortured relationship that was not working because one person in it was withholding information. Wouldn't life be so much easier if we trusted each other with our true feelings? Those poor sweet people of Dillon. There was a nice resolution by the end of the episode though. The Friday Night Lights crew appeared to be suggesting that the only way to have an honest relationship is to get a dog. Tell me about it. I think Tim and Skeeter will be very happy.
I did have a small problem with Mindy's pregnancy complication. I thought the stripper fundraiser was hilarious, but, the fact is, Billy running down the hall after the doctor to explain that they had no insurance was completely unrealistic. You can't get within a hundred yards of a medical professional without first disclosing your specific insurance coverage or lack thereof. It determines the entire course of your treatment. I know it's just a television show, but one of the things I love about FNL is its realism. They let me down a little bit on that one.
As you know, I spent Saturday at a Sol LeWitt exhibit. Obviously, before I went, I did a little background reading, which is how I came to discover Sol designed a synagogue in Chester, Connecticut where he was also a member. I thought it would be great to go take a look at it after the exhibit, but I had kind of been dragging me feet because I was a little bit nervous about going to a synagogue. I know that's ridiculous, but we're not talking about just dropping in to visit any old building. This is a place of worship. People take their places of worship very seriously and I really wanted to be respectful of that. Only I had no idea how to be respectful never having stepped foot in a synagogue before. I did know that it was a Reformed congregation so that was reassuring. One of the few things I know about Judaism is that it comes in three degrees of intensity with Reformed being the most likely to welcome a visit by a former Catholic, pro-choice, pro-gay, pro-Gin&Tonic, feminist, non-denominational Protestant. My status as a Red Sox fan would likely be the biggest hurtle to overcome as I felt fairly certain Chester was located in Yankee territory.
I find Judaism super intimidating, y'all. Like mega intimidating. It's just very mysterious and complicated and full of rules that I find completely non-intuitive. In that regard, I think being Jewish must be a lot like being Catholic (with one huge difference, of course). So I called the synagogue to see if it was open to the public. The lady who answered the phone was super sweet and very casual. She told me when she's usually around and invited me to drop by. She went on to tell me when services are held- I guess so I wouldn't come then, or maybe I was being invited, I don't know. Then she kind of casually mentioned that of course they probably wouldn't want to do any kind of tour on Shabbat. So I was like, Pssht, of course not on Shabbat! Yeah, I had no idea what she was talking about. I probably should have just asked, but naturally I waited until I got off the phone and Googled it. But, before we hung up, she mentioned an official tour being given on Sunday before some concert. Perfect. I'd love an official tour. I find structure soothing.
On Sunday, fresh from the Atheneum exhibit the day before, I put on yet another sundress, a very light sweater, and, from my shoe archive (I never throw anything away) a strappy sandal with kitten heel circa 2002. I didn't love the sandal, but it did the trick in a pinch. I grabbed my new clutch and was out the door. Have a good time, Kathy had told me, I know they'll love you.
Well, I don't know if they loved me, but I loved them. Do you know I didn't even need my reading material. People sat on both sides of me and were very friendly. I had such a nice talk with an English fella named Michael who, after asking where I was from, wanted to know if I was a Red Sox fan. I knew he probably didn't approve, but he was accepting of my allegiance. He looked from side to side then raised his eyebrows and confided to me softly, This area is pretty mixed. Connecticut is like that, I acknowledged.
The official tour turned out to be preceded by a lecture given by the head architect. I wished his lecture had included putting the architecture of the building into historical context, but then I remembered it wasn't really a lecture so much as a casual talk in a non-university setting. It was a good talk about a really beautiful little building. I wouldn't have appreciated the structure nearly as much if I had just walked through on my own. I was surprised to see an actual piece by Sol LeWitt featured prominently. I thought he just worked on the building, but this one piece, a beautiful six pointed star, had been incorporated. The star was installed on sliding doors that has a Torah behind them. This isn't clever architecture, it's a standard element in a synagogue and I have every confidence that it has an official name that I'm not aware of. I did learn some official lingo. For example, after it was referred to it repeatedly, I did finally figure out what the Bimah is. I'm still a little unclear on the light up board in the hallway, inscribed with the names of people who have died. Other than that, things were pretty straight forward and easy to understand.
It was such a nice visit. Chester is down on the water by Essex, where the minute we can afford it, we're going to buy a second home. I fantasized about that when I got back to my primary and, sadly, only home and was whipping up a Kugel. I saw Barefoot Contessa make it the day before and thought it was perfect timing. Right. Well, the timing was the only perfect thing about it. I'm confident I prepared it correctly as I am an excellent cook. Maybe I just don't understand Kugel. It struck me as an unnecessary derivative of bread pudding. Why would you mess up bread pudding with noodles? And then serve it as a side dish? I don't know. There are only so many new frontiers a girl can cross in a single day.
Shalom!
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