Well, here I am all dressed up in my sequined sweater, obediently sitting with my cup of hot mead. OK, my family is doing a seder of sorts, and one of my jobs is to say the kiddush- blessing over the first glass of wine. Which traditionally is supposed to be red. But in these times of social distancing, it's wiser to use what is on hand. So an old bottle of chardonnay that's been sitting in my fridge for an unknown length of time will suffice. And since it's a little chilly in my apartment, why not heat it up, add some honey, and create my own mead? All this, with 7 minutes to go for the once a year seder, this time to be conducted over video conferencing. Good to have your priorities in check. The last time I drank a good (actually amazing) mead was when I took my mentee A. and her brother to the Dickens Faire in San Fransisco last winter. I wasn't planning on drinking anything potent, but why should the kids have all the fun? After an hour of watching them play darts in a perfect rendition of a 19th century London pub, I decided to break my fast and indulge. Well, it worked out well for me. As the kids were later playing a raucus game of toss the hammer, apparently I was cheering a little too loudly for A's tastes. "You're making a scene!" she scolded. This coming from a 5th grader, who just last year, as we sat in a Chinese restaurant waiting for our food, braced herself by holding tight to the edge of the table, puffed her cheeks out, and did a countdown.. for what could have been a very ill-mannered act, particularly to the quiet family off to the side trying to enjoy their buffet. Luckily I put the kibosh on the plan before any offensive sprays could disperse. And on this day, as I try to sign in to Zoom.. I realize something: meetings that take place over multiple time zones are not my thing. I had another hour to go. No sense in wasting a nice warm mug of mead. L'Chaim and Chag Sameach. Wishing the world peace, serenity, hope, health, and your own cup of comfort.
