Never told you about the Kid's Bar Mitzvah. Last weekend, in Philly. (The Kid is the 3rd oldest of the Four Fabulous Nephews.) My sister's family is observant/modern orthodox/whatever you want to call it. I went down Friday in time for evening services, which were at a friend's house, not in shul. Lots and lots of singing to welcome the Sabbath, then prayers. About twenty adults sitting around in the dining room singing and praying; about ten kids running in and out, sometimes joining in, sometimes playing dress-up in the playroom. Then a little kiddush of strawberries and brownies; my sister said if you have dessert on both sides of dinner it makes a nice balance. Than back to their house for dinner, which was fajitas. They keep kosher, and a lot of their meals are vegetarian, and you can feed a lot of people on beans and cheese and veggies.

Next morning, after a night in a National-Register hotel, I went with them -- them being my sister's family and her husband's sibs and relations; my sibs were still on the road -- and we walked over to another friend's house. My brother-in-law was leading services. This group doesn't have a rabbi, though some members are ordained; they rotate the lead. It was similar to the night before: total chaos, people arriving on different schedules, kids running in and out. My brother, his wife, my other nephews, my sister, and her husband all drifted in from the various states they live in. The Kid read from the Torah and got pelted with candy afterwards, a tradition my sister swears is authentic, and which his little brother of course loved. He didn't give a speech, but after his Haftorah he sat with his father in front of the group (people on chairs, on sofas, on the floor, sitting up the stairs...) and they talked about what they had learned studying the Torah and what questions they still had about what he'd read. Then we had kiddush again, more sweets on the same dessert-frame principle, and all trooped back to my sister's house -- about 40 of us -- for lunch. People gradually drifted away, and the relatives stayed until evening. It was the first time my siblings, all my nephews, and I had been in the same room at once in five years.

And here's the bonus: my sister Naomi, a former corporate headhunter who now lives with her husband Bennie on an organic farm in central Georgia, has started a blog. It's linked above: Thoughts of a Transplanted Yankee. Enjoy.