This is my great grandmother – my father’s mother’s mother. Her name was Feige, which means bird in Yiddish. The Hebrew version of the name would be Tzipora. Feige ran an inn somewhere in the Catskills or thereabouts.

I didn’t have to do anything to the coloring of the photo – it was already sepia.

For more sepia photos, visit Sepia Scenes:

As a follow-up to my post about my grandfather, here is a photo of my great grandfather. I know little about him, but my father did tell me he was originally from a town called Gogol in Poland.

For more Sepia Scenes:

This past week my daughter and I watched a movie together called Kit Kittredge. The movie itself was fine: good triumphs over evil, as it should in a movie for a 7-year-old. It takes place during the Depression in the 1930’s, and the people in the film experience loss and lowered economic status. There were some underlying, Hollywoodish type themes – for example, is Robin Hood a good guy? Is it OK to rob from the rich and give it to the poor? (the film seemed to imply yes, and I would say no – rich people should give charity, not be the victims of theft). The mother of the main character, a girl named Kit, decides to take in boarders in order to be able to keep their house. Somehow “selling eggs” becomes symbolic of stooping low, and near the end of the film the mother does acquire some chickens so they can sell eggs as well, which Kit is not happy about (but she accepts).

What bothered me in particular about this was that my paternal grandfather sold eggs in the Depression! That was how he supported his family of seven (five children). He would venture out to the egg farms in New Jersey and bring them back to Brooklyn to sell. My father said at some point he helped with the accounting; at the end of each month, my grandfather would have no money left and need to start a new. There was never any savings, but at least they had food to eat.

What was your family doing in the 1930’s?

Update: See Risa’s post about her grandfather who had a store in Brooklyn.

So, 13 years ago my little guy came out like a cannon ball. No time for the doctor to show up, no time for the epidural. The nurses were in a panic; they thought they would have to deliver the baby (a resident at the hospital did). There’s a technical name for women who deliver babies very quickly. I can’t remember it – I just call it “cannon ball pain.”

And then the parsha (portion of the Torah reading) tells me that I’m going to deliver in pain. No kidding.

At least it wasn’t emotional pain, like that of losing my mother. Her yahrzeit (anniversary of her death) is tonight.

If my mother were alive, I don’t think she would approve of my posting this photo of her. She was already sick with cancer when my sons were born, and this is the only existing photo that I know of with her and my middle son, who will have his bar-mitzvah next week. If you want to see more flattering photos of her, please feel free to scroll through my posts about my mother.

My mother’s yahrzeit (anniversary of her death) is next Thursday evening, right before the bar-mitzvah. I already missed doing a post on her birthday; for the life of me, what were we so busy with this past Labor Day Weekend? I can’t even recall. But I am remembering Simchat Torah 11 years ago, when instead of going to shul, as I do every other year, I spent the days with my mother (who was dying and died a few days after Simchat Torah) and with my then two year old son. And I also recall Simchat Torah 13 years ago, when someone told me to dance a lot so the baby would come out that night, and I replied that after all that dancing I would like to have a good night sleep. And I did have a good night sleep…my son was born two nights later.

Simchat Torah is on Saturday night (on Friday night in Israel); it is a holiday in which observant Jews celebrate the Torah with dancing, reading the beginning and ends of the Torah, and of course, food.

My son created this video “Elements in Motion” two weeks ago with the members of his object animation video class at the Zimmerli Art Museum summer program for kids. He did the water section with a few other kids (that’s his voice saying “wheeeeee…”). His friend was part of the air group. Some girls we know did the fire section at the end, but my 12-year-old son is still at the stage where girls are ignored.

Robin’s Summer Stock Sunday is a photo meme, but I am again taking liberties with that definition and including this video, as creativity is in important part of our summer. My daughter is in theater camp for three weeks; I hope to do a post about the play (Brave Little Tailor) she was in on Friday soon.

I got on the computer tonight, and I found a note from one of my favorite European bloggers, Jientje, who granted me this:

The rules to this award are :

1)Show the award in your blog.
2)Link back to the blog that tagged you.
3)Pass on the award to 8 blogs that you love. (Since this award has been around for a while feel free to pass it to as many or as few as you want.)
4)Inform the bloggers that they have been awarded.
5)Take your time, there’s no pressure, but try to check out the other awarded blogs.

I picked three (new to me) blogs:

• Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (G6)
• EllieVellie
• Confessions of a Startup Wife (Abbi)

Congratulations to the awardees, and thanks again, Jientje.

Hey, anyone know what “de Ouro” means? I had to look it up.