Week in Seven Words #549

This covers the week of 7/26/20 - 8/1/20.

ballooned

Before the fast begins, my stomach feels like a water balloon.

evasion

Social distancing is a handy excuse to avoid people whose company is undesirable under normal circumstances.

feathery

Feathery white flowers beside a riverside path. Five geese on a sward by the rocky bank.

grooving

The dancing skaters are back. I love watching their meetup in the park, where anyone with rhythm and a pair of skates can join in (I have one but not the other). Most of them wear masks, and one balances a bottle of water on his head as he flies around in figure eights. 

lightening

A walk transforms profound disquiet into new ideas, and I feel somewhat hopeful.

self-care

The little girl chases her dog across a sunny field. They end up under a tree, in the shade. After catching her breath, she orders the dog to chase her. She runs away from the tree and waves her arms. Her parents urge the dog to run after her. But he's a smart dog. He isn't trading the relief of the shade for the mercilessness of the sunshine.

slurred

Wearing the night guard makes me sound like a boxer (the athlete, not the dog).

Week in Seven Words #534

This covers the week of 4/12/20 - 4/18/20.

clustered

It's a cold damp day. Blossoms are still thick on some of the trees.

control

One triumph: resisting a temptation.

frazzled

In the middle of worrying, I do something that creates more worries. I'm fed up with myself.

sleuthing

Reading Sherlock Holmes stories is relaxing.

stamping

Running round my mind are all kinds of catastrophic possibilities. They're making a well-trodden path with loops.

tinnily

Phone calls with long wait times. The music that plays in a loop while I'm on hold is the week's soundtrack.

unhurriedly

Appreciating a quieter day – some delicious food, a few colorful notebooks, and good conversation.

Week in Seven Words #496

environmental
By the salty, polluted river, the grass is long and glossy. Purple flowers and soda cans nestle in it.

forum
Worries are better dealt with outdoors. Not in the confines of a familiar room but in a wider space with water, trees, and people.

fuzzily
A caterpillar, small as a piece of macaroni, squiggles on my neck.

multitasking
A woman is simultaneously playing the violin and hula hooping. Packing her talents together in the hopes of collecting more money in her violin case.

noise
She keeps lowering her book with a sigh. The whoosh of the passing cars distracts her. I've written it off as background noise, like the wind. After she calls attention to it, I pause to listen, and I realize how much noise I accept as a given, just a part of life.

seaworthy
Toy sailboats find their balance on a sheet of dark water.

thickly
Rain comes down in thick continuous clots and spatters like white paint on the street.

Week in Seven Words #391

artwork
The pond reflects a mosaic of leaves.

blink
If I'm not in front of them, do I exist to them? (Like an object permanence test, but for relationships.)

botheration
How much I've entrusted to computer systems I don't control, and the irritation and sometimes fear when they don't work for reasons poorly understood.

breather
She takes her break at a picnic table, a mason jar of flowers at her elbow, her clipboards laid aside.

foil
The water spreads across the harbor in overlapping sheets, the edges stained with sunlight.

plumping
They've brought what seems to be every kind of greasy, salty, sweet processed food to their picnic and the kind of folding chairs that cut your legs out from under you and make you give up on standing. We're in for a satisfying, sedentary stupor.

rarity
Coming across a small bookstore. Feeling wonder and a pang of worry, as if I'm in the presence of an endangered species.

Week in Seven Words #379

puncturing
Canceled plans give the weekend a deflated feeling.

runner-up
The fat trophy on his desk, the one I can imagine filled with mead, is a trophy he made for himself, celebrating something athletic (the inscription is small).

sullying
When he makes a nasty comment, it's similar to how he might squat and defecate in public and look you in the eye while doing it. Even if you turn away, you're left with the image of him exulting over his excrement.

supporting
She has another nightmare, but this time she also has someone's hand on her shoulder, comforting her.

trustworthy
She likes affection, but what she values more is trust. Let them give her the keys to a car or house, the permission to plan a wedding or offer investment advice, and she'll be happy.

twinned
One of them is enthusiastic about life and wants to learn more about it; he'll open his window and take pleasure in a tree branch, crooked like an elbow. The other one, who is roughly the same age, keeps the windows shuttered and rarely opens the door, but acts as if she knows exactly what's going on in the world.

worrisome
It isn't a good idea for her to read true crime novels, just like it wasn't a good idea for her to look through WebMD for hours. Now she'll think someone is going to brain her with a statue, possibly because she has rabies.

Week in Seven Words #374

glancing
She wishes her experiences would have more weight and texture. She thinks she's skimming over everything, recognizing but not appreciating beauty.

interior
The suggestiveness of a bookcase, paintings, plants, and piles of papers glimpsed through a window.

jittery
Wind chimes chattering by an empty street.

pangs
The mural reminds her of home - a two-story house in a wooded lot, with a driveway shaped like the head of a cobra.

slip
I try to feel around the edges of her carefully curated personality for what I think is there - her, her self, whatever that means.

strained
Waiting to learn the outcome of her hospital visit. Stomach clenching every time the phone rings.

suburbia
The sidewalk has disintegrated to a narrow shoulder of road, and I'm reminded of the suburb I grew up in. A nail salon, an Italian restaurant, a bagel store, and a laundromat in a clot beside an artery of traffic.

Week in Seven Words #308

besieger
Before he finally gets locked out of his account, he tries one password after another, probing at his unresponsive memory. Each time, he's convinced that he's only off by one character.

binding
Through cracks in the window, the cold seeps in and curls around my hands and ankles.

braceleted
Around my wrists, they've placed interlocking plastic chains - some in pastels, others in night-glowing neon.

pellets
Cloudy bins of candies in toxic colors line the cold, bright aisles.

schnoz
His nose has puffed up like a sponge toy that expands in water.

shades
Dark-haired and silver-haired, they play a violin duet in the dim light.

unassured
"Don't worry, don't worry," he pleads. He doesn't know what else to do. He only wishes she'd relax, even as his frantic voice communicates the uselessness of such a wish.

Week in Seven Words #278

aseptically
First impression of the school corridors: bulletin boards, artwork, and the reek of disinfectants.

deliberate
I pace in the rectangle of light from the doorway.

duration
"I'll stick around for an hour" becomes "I'll stay all night."

ill-considered
They tried to console him in his grief by telling him that other people have suffered too. But when does that approach work? Did they think other people's pain would ease his own, or that it would be a good idea to somehow shame him out of his sorrow?

ken
A powerful mental rush where I feel focused and thirsty for knowledge.

self-consciousness
The kids have been coached to repeat lines, hop on cue and wiggle around dancing when the teacher tells them to. They're old enough to start feeling embarrassed by the silliness, especially because it's orchestrated by adults and not spontaneous.

subtext
She says, "I'm worried." What she doesn't say is, "I need to control you." But those other words are there, whether she realizes it or not. I'm not going to pretend they aren't.

Week in Seven Words #116

bereavement
It was a shock to hear that my maternal grandpa, Saba Yossef (Grandpa Joseph), passed away. In the past few years his condition had been slowly deteriorating, and he spent the last five months of his life in a hospital, fighting one infection after another (he contracted these infections courtesy of the hospital itself, where powerful bacteria are rampant and patient care is uneven, to say the least). But still, he was a fighter. This is a guy who evaded the Nazis when he was 12. He was a war veteran. He fought off colon cancer a decade ago. We kept expecting him to live somehow.

concoct
He liked to make simple, fresh dishes with few ingredients. Salads and side dishes. Though he wasn't a consummate chef like his wife, he was good at putting together quick meals, and his niche in the kitchen was usually one corner of the countertop where he'd stand chopping and sprinkling things and making use of whatever he'd found in the back of the fridge or the cupboard.

eloquence
He also had a way with words, composing blessings, articles, essays, and poems. He spoke well, loved good conversation and swapping jokes. He was even eloquent in his sleep. He could nod off a little in front of the nightly news and start arguing with the newscaster (and he'd stir awake if you tried to change the channel). Though he had strong opinions he wasn't a preachy or rigid person; he liked to be on good terms with people and help them out. Discussions held in a relaxed atmosphere and helped along by good food and drink were much more his style than shouting matches.

expected
Another memory of him is from a trip I took to Italy when I was sixteen with various family members including him. At one point we were in Siena during The Palio, the famous horse race that turns the city into a madhouse, and we'd split up into smaller groups for the afternoon. A few hours later, when we'd regrouped, we realized he hadn't joined us. No one knew where he was. Everyone else in my family immediately became worried or outright frantic - what if he'd gotten lost or attacked or had sat down and dozed off somewhere? - and off they went searching for him. I stayed behind to keep watch at the spot where we'd all agreed to meet, in case he came along. And I remember standing there calmly, not worried at all, thinking to myself that at any moment he was going to come down that street, smiling and relaxed, and wonder what all the fuss was about. And that's exactly what happened. He suddenly appeared, strolling along the street, his smile a trifle sheepish and apologetic, and immediately set about deflecting criticism, soothing worries, and trying to coax people into laughing. I'm not sure what happened - it's very likely he had sat down for a spell and dozed off - but it didn't matter. No worries.

golden
The last time I saw him functioning well and full of life was in spring 2006, when he visited the US with my grandma. One highlight of the visit was taking a walk with him in Central Park. Before leaving for the walk I was asked to look after him, to make sure he didn't fall (he'd fallen a few times before, from what we came to realize were most likely mini-strokes that had made him 'blank' for a moment). He chuckled at the suggestion that anyone needed to look after him; he was good-humored, independent, and wasn't prone to worrying. We had a very good walk that day. We went at a brisk pace up and down twisty paths in the Ramble, and by the lake too. We talked about many things, from world affairs to guys to places we wanted to see. It was just the two of us for those few hours.

musicality
His laughter was gleeful. He also had a beautiful voice and liked to sing and hum at every good opportunity - at the dinner table or during a game of rummy or as he walked. For the past few years, living in the aftermath of a series of strokes, he could barely talk; his voice, when he could talk, was hoarse and flat. He didn't laugh either. But to the end he loved music, was moved deeply by it.

open-eyed
He found something of interest everywhere he went. To him there weren't boring places. When he visited us in the suburbs for instance he'd go exploring by bus or train or foot and visit places we'd dismissed as uninteresting. When I was a kid I used to think of it as one of his endearing quirks, but in recent years I've come to respect this approach, this attitude of always seeing the world through fresh eyes and not letting yourself become jaded. I liked going places with him, whether it was to listen to a concert or hop on a paddle-boat or just walk through a park, in part because he was very much interested in the world. He was alive to it.

Week in Seven Words #113

auriferous
A movie night with a paranoid Humphrey Bogart, a motor-mouthed Walter Huston, and a gaggle of bandits and burros.

crated
The first stages of packing: DVDs and CDs in shoeboxes and books in Yaffa blocks.

paradoxical
I sometimes become the sort of person who isn't at peace unless she has something to worry about.

patties
We sit down to a meal of hamburgers and coleslaw. Our conversation unfolds mostly in variations of "mmmm, this is the best hamburger ever!"

possessed
The black plastic bag dances in the wind like an imp, taunting the customers at the café.

ruffled
A cold wind blasts into the city, agitating litter and telephone poles.

unhinged
The afternoon takes a turn for the absurd with a hunt for a new toilet seat.

Week in Seven Words #96

aa
Thanks to my Scrabble partner I find out that this is a kind of rough basaltic lava. It's also a great way to get rid of superfluous vowels and fit words into tight corners of the board.

flavor
It's a small cozy café with pizza, lasagna, salads and soups, and only a handful of tables. What makes the place itself special is one of the people who works there. He flirts and jokes, and in the middle of our meal walks up to us and shares a tale about a carpenter who reunites a pair of estranged brothers by building a bridge over the river that separates their properties.

priorities
I'm heading down the street on wobbly legs. Clearly I need to lie down. But first, a stop at the library.

residuum
Recently this stretch of sidewalk had a leafy golden roof, grand and bright like a corridor in an Oriental palace. Now it looks gutted, the leaves gone and the branches like brittle kindling.

smarting
As I approach the river the wind rakes through me, and even the buildings shiver.

sprightly
I bring Fantasia with me and watch them laugh at the dancing hippos and the fairies spreading rime and dewdrops on pliant leaves.

trepidation
With every phone call I feel a spike of tension. I don't know what the news will be on the other end. I can only pray for the best.

Week in Seven Words #92

chutzpah
A library has no business being closed.

detours
Side streets beckon to us as we walk. Their houses and trees are pressed close, their sidewalks are rumpled and scratchy with fallen leaves. They're dotted with pumpkins, and their windows peek out from shutters and flower boxes.

jolted
Revelations on a Friday afternoon. I have just enough time to send out some emails and make a couple of calls before I abstain from technology for the next twenty-five hours. Monday will be here soon enough. Meanwhile I need to retreat into my Friday night and wait. Patiently.

multifunctional
In the park the fountain is drained. The water has given way to scattered leaves and children barreling around in the basin on tricycles.

proliferation
'What-ifs' and 'if-onlys' can breed and multiply and take hold of your soul if you let them.

solace
What comforts me: singing aloud, which brings a kind of catharsis. Meaningful reading, which shores up my sense of purpose. Another person's laughter, which spreads joy.

wince
It hurts me to see you hurt, she says, grimacing at my bandaged wrist.

Week in Seven Words #23

deliquesce
Ice cream, half-scooped and half-puddled, seeps through the mouth and dissolves on the tongue. Heat, sweat and sweetness on a summer afternoon.

dipping
The flowers dip their long green fronds in the water, the way people might sit at the edge of a swimming pool and paddle their feet.

flux
Watching them play it's difficult to predict when they'll get along peaceably and when they'll slip into mischievous pestering or earnest scuffles. Another possibility is that they'll drift to different parts of the room and focus on individual pursuits involving characters, shoes, blocks, blankets, keyboards and cars.

jarred
Whole days, derailed. A sick gnawing anxiousness and pain.

molten
The fountain is full of cool fire. Plashing white plumes surge out of its basin, and the sun is shattered on its waters.

sorry
Sometimes he invests the word with just a little too much power; he thinks that any bit of mischief or inflicted hurt will be instantaneously undone with the utterance of an earnest 'sorry'.

stripes
Flags ripple against a light blue sky.

Week in Seven Words #10

bombinate
I've never found the sound of bees pleasant or cheerful. I wish they could stay silent as they descend on the daffodils or poke around window frames and doors. One bee I spot is especially bold. It hovers right over the center of a footpath. People duck to either side to avoid walking into it; one young man on a skateboard makes a last-minute swerve that nearly lands him in the mulch.

cloying
Petals, fallen from the trees and crushed underfoot, are slippery on the pavement. They release a smell of sticky sweetish rot.

confidence
I'm touched that he'd turn to me for advice on a personal matter. But even as I do my best to talk out the situation with him and discuss different options, I'm nagged by the feeling that my words aren't enough. I wish there were more time to consider the issue properly.

constriction
Music moves him deeply; it always has, and it still does. When I sing to him on the phone, it's as if I'm singing with him, because his intense yearning to sing is audible; sometimes I think I can hear his voice as it used to be, accompanying mine.

immerse
I'm content when I settle into the present moment - as when I walk in the warm sun and cold wind with a man who sees things quite well, even though his eyes don't show him anything. When I'm clustered with good friends on armchairs, and I focus only on their talk and laughter, and for the moment there are no worries.

possibilities
Her small circular Spiderman cushion doesn't remain a cushion for long. It transforms into many things - primarily a shield to go with her imaginary sword, but also a hat worn at a tilt on her head. It also changes into a bird's nest cradling a clutch of eggs, and at one point takes the shape of a shallow flower pot that she carries proudly at her elbow. When she's faced with a large crack in the sidewalk, the cushion becomes a handy bridge that saves her toes from plummeting.

punchy
The delight of studying something serious and complex when it's past two in the morning; we're making our points with arm-waving, loud proclamations, and giggle-yawns. Somehow everything sounds extraordinarily sensible and clear.

Week in Seven Words #9

anagrams
One game after another, on tables pushed close to sunny windows. The afternoon drifts by to the sharp click of letter tiles, laughter and friendly teasing, and the magic of the mental lexicon.

charoset (חרוסת)
Apples, bananas, walnuts, and wine; dashes of cinnamon. A recipe from home, lovingly made and spread thickly on matzah.

chelonian
A dozen or so turtles, sunning on rocks and logs. For several minutes they don't move; they could very well be fixtures in this man-made pond, statues carved of pale stone. But then one begins to inch up a log, its legs delicately testing out the wood. Another, who seemed as content as any of the others, suddenly lets itself drop. With a quiet splash it hits the water, where it bobs for a while in one place - as if it's stunned, and needs to get used to the stark difference between rock and water.

earnestness
Wisecracks are acceptable, so are sarcasm, irony, and flippancy. Let's not talk about important things as if they're important; let's express our passions and opinions with a smirk, a wink, a shrug as if to say these things don't matter much. It's startling when someone speaks or writes with directness and feeling. It shakes us up to hear or read something passionately worded, carefully thought out, with no sly and apologetic half-smile afterwards ("Whatever, I was just kidding...") I treasure an hour spent in that armchair taking in words that are unabashedly full of purpose and poetry, words of praise, words grappling with some of life's most important matters.

fret
In the midst of foolish worries I get distracted. Because of my distraction, I'm careless. Because of my carelessness I commit significant blunders that I did not at all anticipate; they weren't a part of my original worries. I think about these blunders and their consequences; fresh worries gnaw at me. Again, I'm distracted. Again, I slip towards carelessness. Somehow I catch myself this time, give myself a pat on the figurative shoulder ("Settle down, you've learned something, and it's not the end of the world so do please focus...") and with that the evening continues.

halcyon
A couple of quiet days with only the occasional squabble. There's rain at the windows, and we're gathered in one room, which feels warmer and more homey than usual. A game of Scrabble, paging through books in the yellow light, napping on the daybed, lunching on salads and cold meats. It's a good visit all around, ending with warm words and kisses to the cheeks and forehead. For a short while I feel like I'm lifted up above the many tasks I need to complete in a month's time. These are days that restore and renew; I wish for their peace to spill over into other days.

Seder
What do I love about each Seder? There's the singing, so many beautiful songs, somehow even more beautiful because we don't all match in key, tempo, or even melody; there are some songs that also speed up towards the end, and after a few cups of wine part of the fun is feeling your tongue flail around as you try to get the words out at an acceptable pace. Then there are the stories - the main one in the Haggadah, but also others told around the table along with questions that we don't usually stop to ask on other days and jokes that are more than a few lines long and are themselves beautifully crafted tales with clever conclusions. There's also the mix of people; individuals who normally wouldn't plan to eat together are all at the same table now and discovering interesting things about each other.