The storage industry is the mother of invention

Never Done: Made a menore out of a gourd
Tshuve: Khanike

The trend continues. I feel more and more part of a community of friends here in Brooklyn. I went to a khanike latke party. I wasn't invited directly, but I was invited by someone else who was invited. It turned out that five of my closest friends were there, as well as a few people I have known for years, including someone from Portland who moved here around the time I did, and someone I know just a little who turns out to be my across-the-street neighbor! It's so interesting for me to be witnessing the process of becoming a part of community. It's usually such an opaque process, but I think my writing is helping it be more transparent.

When we lit the candles, we said the Shehekhianu together -- the first time celebrating a ritual this year. And then several more blessings, and then a collective re-telling of the khanike story, trying to remember a radical analysis of assimilation and religious intolerance. We almost got there.

When he had left for work in the morning, Josh said he would bring home something to make a menore with. For the past number of years, our menores have been in storage, so we've been making our own, temporary menores out of things we have around the house. We have used zucchinis, and carrots, and tin foil, and last year we had some great success with Swiss cheese. I was expecting more of the same, so it was a surprise when Josh brought home gourds. Yellow and orange bumpy gourds. Now I think of gourds as about the most goyish thing that grows on a vine. Really, is there anything more goyish than a gourd?

No really. If you come up with anything, please tell me.

But gourds it was! We got out the power drill, and searched for the perfect khanike-candle-sized drill bit. I started by making small holes in the ends, to connect the two gourds with a small wooden dowel. Then I drilled candle holes along the top. And voila! As easy as that. Because it's bumpy, the gourd menore reminds me a little bit of my Stegomenorasaurus. (My nickname for the wonderful menore I have (in storage) with a candle holder coming off of each of the stegosaurus spikes.) Do I miss my stuff? Yes, I do. Especially my books. Do I get along fine without it all? For the most part, yes. And sometimes, even better. I think there's great value in tradition -- especially when it comes to this kind of ritual that connects us to our past. Two years ago, I inherited my mother's family's brass menore -- the one we used my whole life, growing up. Since inheriting it, it's been in storage. I know that it would give me a sense of continuity and connection to be using it, but I also know that not having it has prompted a great deal of innovation and fun -- and a sense of connection to a shared, creative life. I guess the old saying is true: the storage industry is the mother of invention.