Hey, we're trying

I doubt that Mrs. Yid or I will ever be nominated to be Chief Sephardic Rabbi of anything. Granted, there are plenty of legitimate reasons for that. But one definite strike against us is that while traditionally it's considered very important to engage in hiddur mitzvah, or "pretty up the mitzvah," around here we apply our shabby-cheap aesthetic to pretty much anything.

Case in point: our first sukkah, courtesy of Mrs. Yid, bless her heart, who, upon being kicked out of jury duty last week and having some time to kill (and knowing what day it was), decided to surprise yours truly with this in our backyard.

On Sukkot, we remember what it was like living in the desert as we sit on folding chairs of old.

It may not be much to look at, and if we're being sticklers about that whole s'chach thing then only that one teeny corner of it with the weeds on it was kosher, but darn it, it reminded me of why I love my wife. These aren't her traditions (heck, they're barely mine), but she's trying. It was also very sweet that she had used the chuppah poles from our wedding that her brother carved himself and lugged across several states. I look forward to getting many uses from those over the years.

After Mrs. Yid finished the sukkah, I went out for Thai food and we sat in the sukkah and ate a lovely, if slightly cramped, dinner. Then we cracked out some chumashim and studied the parsha for Sukkot (I found them incredibly dull; Mrs. Yid was entertained that they all seem to involve God demanding tons of food like a pregnant Queen Bee), and then we both giggled at the crazy prophecies of the Hatfarah portion in Zechariah (my favorite part is when he talks about the mountain splitting open; I couldn't help but think of this).

Anyway, yes, it's only the third Jewish holiday of 5772 and already the gravitas around here has dropped way down. But something's better than nothing. And besides, ours is a highly understanding God. We hope.