The Boy and I have moved into an apartment. That alone makes me feel like a big kid.
But, in addition to that, in the last week, we had a Shabbat dinner at home with candles and wine. Nevermind the fact that I forgot to buy a way to LIGHT the candles at the store. I guess that’s the benefit of living in an apartment–plenty of neighbors to (frantically) ask to borrow matches from as we approached lighting time. We hung two mezuzot, as well. I might need one more. Polling the audience: if your home had a walk in closet, with doors on either end, between the master bedroom and the restroom, would you hang one on the door between the bedroom and the closet? I’m thinking yes? It’s almost like I should ask a rabbi or something.
But, what makes me feel REALLY, FINALLY like a true Jewish gal is that there are challot in the oven. Yes, you read that right, Mikvah Bound managed to commune with microscopic organisms called yeast in such a way that instead of flour soup being produced, dough was formed. Dough that is being baked in the oven. As we speak.
It’s early, but Shabbat Shalom y’all.