Author Archives: Ray

October flyer

We’re thrilled to announce more sign-language-interpreted Shabbat Morning Services, and we hope that you can join us! ********** WHAT: A Service with full readings from the Torah and Haftorah (Prophets) WHEN: 10:00 AM — 12:30 PM on Saturdays, October 19th & November 9th WHERE: Town & Village (T&V) Synagogue (www.tandv.org), 334 East 14th Street, between […]

—————————————————————————————- http://www.RSDeaf.org/Adventures   Rochester School for the Deaf presents 21st ANNUAL ADVENTURES IN EDUCATION   TODD HUSTON: “MORE THAN MOUNTAINS“ October 16-17, 2013   Get ready to be truly inspired by Todd Huston – a uniquely brave and humble individual, who has overcome incredible challenges to achieve his goals and make his dreams come true. […]

– RRCD1564 Lyell Ave Rochester, NY 14606 Email: Please check our calendar. www.RochesterDeafClub.com

Ocean Deaf Club, Inc.  Saturday, October 19th   Lingo Game *   The Presbyterian Church  101 Orchard Street, Lakehurst, NJ (Union Avenue & Pine Street)    Doors Open at 6:30pm The game will start around 7:30 pm Members: $10.00 Non-Members: $12.00 * Wear Black & Orange for a special Halloween Prize If you bring homemade or store bought dessert, […]

Volunteer Opportunity: Rochester School for the Deaf is hosting this year’s Gallaudet University Northeastern Region Academic Bowl, December 5-7. Eighteen high school teams of deaf/hard-of-hearing students from across the Northeast will converge on the RSD campus for this momentous event. There is a need for as many as 50 volunteers! and we are now recruiting and […]

Northwest Jersey Association of the Deaf would let you know that ASL Storytelling Event on Oct 5th is cancelled due to insufficient attendees. We will host it sometime in the spring. We will keep you posted. If you already paid to attend, the money will return to you.

October 10, 2013 Thursday 2 – 3:15 in LBJ 2590 De’VIA artists – Nancy Rourke & Ellen Mansfield: From Deafhood to Artivism October 11 – 12, 2013 Friday and Saturday Deaf View / Image Artists (De’VIA) Marketplace Dyer Arts Center, LBJ Meet and buy art from Janna Dahl, Hinda Kasher, Ellen Mansfield, Nancy Rourke, Jackie […]

The NYS Department of Environmental Conservation, Sportsman Education Program announces a Hunter Education class that we are offering that will have an ASL interpreter present. Hunter Education is required for anyone who want to hunt for the first time.   These classes are available to anyone 11 yrs old and older (one must be 12 to hunt in […]

Ocean Deaf Club 2013 HOLIDAY FLYER-1

Toes

Lately, I’ve been giving them a lot of thought.

First, my yoga teacher is always including toes in her instructions. Lift them off the ground (one at a time). Spread them. Plant them back on your mat (one at a time). It takes awhile to learn to control them – they’re so often ignored. Second, I was reading a book about a woman who had a stroke and was paralyzed on her left side, including all her toes. She was explaining the rehabilitation process and talking about the fact that she realized – once she could no longer use them – how important toes are for balance and for pushing off of when walking. Third, I just so happened to be reading the book passage while I was getting a pedicure (a gift from my husband).

So toes were on my mind.

For most of my life I didn’t pay attention to them. And when I got older I would shove them into cold, hard pointy shoes. In turn, that led to foot cramps. The cramps would attack in the middle of the night and hurt so bad I’d cry. But when I started practicing yoga, I noticed my foot cramps disappeared. I decided to give my feet the love they deserved. In addition to yoga, I began wearing comfortable shoes. And from time to time, I’d get a pedicure. I stopped painting my nails awhile ago (to avoid the harsh chemicals), but today I made a special exception.

I picked a color – Dutch Tulips – in honor of spring.

When they were red and shiny, I wiggled them and smiled. Thankful for my toes.

Bring It On

I’m about to fall asleep when my husband, Ron, reaches out and shakes my shoulder.

“Are you awake?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say.

“What do you want for your birthday?”

“Hmmm,” I say. “I don’t know. Let me think about it.”

But I do know. I’m debating between various brands of juicers (Green Star or Omega – any thoughts?). Ron is going to keel over when he hears this. In the six years we’ve been together, I’ve never asked for a single item relating to the kitchen.

Not a pot.

Not a pan.

Not a knife, a spatula, or a whisk.

Growing up, I never learned how to cook. My girlfriends and I — we were women of a new generation. We were going to be doctors, lawyers, and mathematicians (and we are). There would be no time for preparing meals. (I’m not sure what our eating plan was — hired help? fast food? — we didn’t think about that part). I do vaguely recall taking a Home Economics course in high school. Men were required to take it too. We baked a pie. I stared at the aluminum container holding the crust and debated between leaving it or removing it. I wasn’t sure aluminum should go in the oven so I took it off. My pie looked more like a pancake.

People change, though.

Now I see our kitchen in a whole new light. Cooking spinach lasagna the other night, I sipped a glass of wine and turned on some tunes. I had to call my mother — twice — and ask her whether I was supposed to cook the whole wheat lasagna noodles or layer them in the dish uncooked. (The first time she said, “Cook ‘em!” and the second time she said, “Yes, I’m positive. Cook ‘’em!”) I cooked the noodles. The food was delicious. I’m no longer intimidated by the kitchen. Bring on the juicer! Š

Bring It On

I’m about to fall asleep when my husband, Ron, reaches out and shakes my shoulder.

“Are you awake?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say.

“What do you want for your birthday?”

“Hmmm,” I say. “I don’t know. Let me think about it.”

But I do know. I’m debating between various brands of juicers (Green Star or Omega – any thoughts?). Ron is going to keel over when he hears this. In the six years we’ve been together, I’ve never asked for a single item relating to the kitchen.

Not a pot.

Not a pan.

Not a knife, a spatula, or a whisk.

Growing up, I never learned how to cook. My girlfriends and I — we were women of a new generation. We were going to be doctors, lawyers, and mathematicians (and we are). There would be no time for preparing meals. (I’m not sure what our eating plan was — hired help? fast food? — we didn’t think about that part). I do vaguely recall taking a Home Economics course in high school. Men were required to take it too. We baked a pie. I stared at the aluminum container holding the crust and debated between leaving it or removing it. I wasn’t sure aluminum should go in the oven so I took it off. My pie looked more like a pancake.

People change, though.

Now I see our kitchen in a whole new light. Cooking spinach lasagna the other night, I sipped a glass of wine and turned on some tunes. I had to call my mother — twice — and ask her whether I was supposed to cook the whole wheat lasagna noodles or layer them in the dish uncooked. (The first time she said, “Cook ‘em!” and the second time she said, “Yes, I’m positive. Cook ‘’em!”) I cooked the noodles. The food was delicious. I’m no longer intimidated by the kitchen. Bring on the juicer! Š

Healing Waters

I sink into the water.

Outside, at the hot springs, the air is cool and river still. It smells like sulfur, but after a few minutes I don’t notice. I’m simply lost in the “healing waters.” That’s what they are called because supposedly the minerals in the hot springs help with a number of ailments. Personally, I enjoy the way the heat releases the tension in my body. I especially like soaking my feet – they cramp easily. I also like the heat around the middle of my body – a source of pain between a miscarriage, a surgery, and fertility frustrations over the past 12 months.

I lean back against the stone wall of the bath and watch.

There is a man standing under a waterfall. The water thuds against his back. What is he healing? Tight shoulders? Work stress? Or something deeper . . . the loss of a family member or friend?

In another pool there is a woman with her eyes closed. Maybe she is washing away the pain of divorce. Or abuse. Or a dog named Marley.

I don’t know. I’m just guessing. But when I start thinking about all the different types of “loss” people deal with, it’s clear we all need healing. One of the professors at the university I attended in Southern California just lost his house in the fires. One of my friends just gave birth, a joyful event . . . and a loss of personal time.

Loss of age . . . loss of a job . . . loss of a breast . . . loss of mental agility . . . loss of a city after a move . . . loss of a child who goes off to college . . . and on and on and on it goes.

I read a paragraph in a book the other day about the importance of taking time to heal. The author said that when we step back and heal ourselves we become aware of a world full of people in need. My time of retreat is coming to a close. I hope I don’t go back home and get too wrapped up in schedules and deadlines and the frustrations of city traffic. I hope I can heed the author’s advice and help heal the world in little personal ways. Š

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