Moving On Again...

So we got the apartment--signed for it and all.

The fella then made ME call the current landlord to say we were moving out. (Have I mentioned that I'm afraid of landlords?) But anyway...

I call the landlord, and his wife answers the phone. I ask for him, and she says, warily, that he's not available. I introduce myself, and explain my mission.

"Oh, I can get him for that," she says. "It's just that every Republican organization in California has been calling all day telling him to vote for this candidate and that one..."

So, anyway, we're ready to pack.

Updates to follow.

Today, the school I work at--let's call it St. Colmcille, to keep it semi-anonymous--went on a peace walk through our neighborhood. This was part of Red Ribbon Week, an extravaganza of safety tips, anti-violence exhortations, and general community good spirit. Also jumping rope to raise money for the Heart Association. Kind of confusing, really. But the kids all wore red shirts and hair bows, and made signs, and we streamed through the streets, looking like a bunch of Young Pioneers who made a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in Oakland. It was cute. How can you not like first graders with little signs that say 'Peace'?

Unfortunately, one of our teachers made the mistake of beginning the march with prayer--silent prayer. She got nervous about the kids all being outside the school, and crossing the street, and earnestly davened that no one should get hurt, and that if there was any danger out there, it should happen to her.

We got two blocks, and she whacked her head on a street sign, opening a bleeding gash on her forehead, and proving either the efficacy of prayer or the urgency of also taking care of yourself when panicking about the children in your custody. Luckily, one of the moms who came along on the walk is a nurse, who took said teacher into custody and walked her back to the school and bandaged her. She says it doesn't need stitches. We're kind of freaked out anyway.

A good Shabbos to all.