Last week was a “come eat some chemicals with me” kind of week. By last Saturday night, I managed to come down with some variant of the plague, so I spent last week gobbling musinex like it was candy, sleeping, and having very little appetite. I spent most of the week so sick that I tried to get Denise to just smother me and get it over with, but all I got out of her was an offer to put me in the shed and deliver bread and water to me on a daily basis, which was jokingly delivered of course. As a consequence of all this sickness, I didn’t attend Rosh Hashanah prayers, although I do remember contemplating part of the Unetaneh Tokef prayer, specifically the part about who will live and who will die. Yeah, I know, it was a morbid thought, but for most of the week, I have coughed so much and so forcefully that my diafram and lungs have been on fire, which has made it very difficult to breathe. I’m still sick, so I probably won’t be attending Yom Kippur prayers either, and I can’t fast for health reasons, but I will pray at home and observe the other afflictions, and do my best to repent, although every year I always feel as though I haven’t done enough on that score. I’m glad we have a merciful God, because if we didn’t, I’d be totally screwed.

I started reading The Stand by Stephen King, which was all the more creepy because of my being sick. It’s the uncut edition, so I still have quite a few pages to go. I also read a little of Rav Schwob On Prayer, and Praying With Fire. I spent some time praying for a better year than this last one has been, because God knows I could use it. On the first night of Rosh Hashanah, I didn’t eat apples and honey, but I did eat a chocolate-filled, chocolate-iced Crispy Cream doughnut to accompany my prayer for a good and sweet year for all my loved ones and myself. And speaking of apples, it appears as though the apple tree in the backyard has started producing ripe fruit. We haven’t tasted the apples yet, but they’re yellow, and according to Sister T, (Denise’s sister Theresa), that means they’re ripe. The weather has started cooling down in the evenings, and we have the windows open, so it feels very nice in and outside the house once the sun sets. We’re hoping that this measure will lower the utility bills, because we could sure use that.

I’ll end by wishing all my readers a good and sweet new year of 5773, and with wishes that you all be inscribed and sealed in the Book of Life.

Via DovBear:

The owners of a modest home near Twentynine Palms lost their cherished possessions after a bank mistakenly foreclosed their residence.
A crew broke into Alvin and Pat Tjosaas’ desert home and took everything after being directed by Wells Fargo to secure the structure.

I’m asking myself exactly how the bank can make a huge mistake like this. My guess is it wasn’t a mistake, it was pure carelessness at best, and I don’t want to think about what it was at worst. Anybody want to guess how long it’s going to take WF to pull a BP and tell the couple “we’re sorry.”? And God only knows what’s going to happen to all their stuff. Some low-level, (or at least, lower-level than the people who get to make these decisions), management person will probably get fired for this, and that’ll be the end of it. But WF will still be in business after this, and will still be allowed to handle people’s money. I definitely won’t be trusting them with any of mine. I think this couple should get their house free and clear (assuming they haven’t already paid it off) after having to go through this. And I hope they’re able to pull their life back together and get back to some sort of normal routine.