In Which Your Humble Blogger is scared, but not of the crocodile. Well, and the crocodile scares me, too. To be honest, I’m pretty easily frightened anyway.
In Which Your Humble Blogger begs for email.
In Which Your Humble Blogger stands outside the pasture, leaning on the fence and chewing a grass stalk, before getting in a car and driving back to the city, where the schism is practically a sacrament.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is easily distrac—ooh, shiny!
In Which the passage could be improved by an illustration, with lots of gears and brass fixings and steam and glass and all that steampunk stuff.
O Chanuka O Chanuka, come light the menorah, although Rabbi Kahana said that Rabbi Nathan ben Manyomi used to say in the name of Rabbi Tanhum that a Chanuka lamp becomes disqualified if it is put higher than twenty ells (from the ground), just like a Sukkah and like the side beam of an alley.
In Which Your Humble Blogger hears a trumpet blown in the city.
In Which Your Humble Blogger feedeth on wind.
In Which Your Humble Blogger needs help to make bigger, better, stronger lists.
In Which Malachi is revealed to be Mordechai, from the Book of Esther. Or possibly Ezra. Or maybe Eleanor Bron, who is not what she seems.