Valentine Shmalentine, where're my Devorah-hearts at?
I inventoried, checked boxes, made graphs. It all adds up to nothing, zilch, nada.
Knowing other souls: glorious, but maybe the end of fun.
Adamantine insistence, persistence, this existence.
If there's one thing I love, it's sweet-talking plants. Tu B'Shvat Sameach!
Is Yeshiva education still relevant in a secular world?
I know Gershon Legman held the opinion that limericks were not meant to be clean, but this is a family post, so, sorry! Or, you're welcome!
Even the breeze who incessantly sweet-talks the rose knows she was born thorned for good reason.
Laughter, tears, and longing. On both sides of the mechitza.
