Eastover

Last night was our second annual Eastover dinner. There was feasting and laughter and drinking of wine. There was a passover plate, and hidden afikomen. There were hidden Cadbury Cream Eggs (two remain unfound this morning). There were Peeps, and lamb, and haroset, and matzoh ball soup, and matzoh, and salad, and greens, and Manischevitz (the first glass of which was drunk while reclining), and pie, and "Soy-licious" vanilla soy ice cream. There were easter lilies and roses on the table. There were readings from the Bible and the Haggadah, and recitation of the four principles of Buddhism. And readings from the Tax Code, and selected books of poetry (including a great poem called "Internal Revenue" from the June 2003 edition of Poetry magazine). And then, as happened last year, folks started reciting poems or fragments of poems that they knew by heart. My favorites were these two. I made a weak attempt at this one and then needed to find it on Google to finish.

All three dogs got bones, and chewed on them happily. One visiting dog, the oldest, snored during the entire dinner from under the table. I spilled a glass of wine in my lap, and caused an avalanche that broke two plates, but it was otherwise a lovely evening. Irreverent, yes, and I hope I've not offended any of my readers who have a deeply felt religious tradition with my lightheartedness. But all the guests are orphans of religion (except for our Buddhist) and we ate, spoke, read, and drank together with a spirit of reverence and love. Why should only the religious have rituals?

Comments

[David Giacalone]

Rite On!

[Dean F.]

I think you captured the spirit of things quite well notwithstanding that it might not have been traditional.

[mad]

I love it -- taking the best of all the traditions and celebrating your freedom to do so!

[b]

No fins no flippers
the Gaffilta fish
Finds it difficult
to SWIM

haiku's for Jews 2001