on the sixth night of Hanukkah

All this time it's been Hanukkah, and I've been lighting the candles each evening, followed by B. with her Advent and Christmastide candles. The candles can be perilous. This year's set came with unusually long wicks, and one shamas, after I lighted the end of the wick, snuffed out at the candle tip while the drooping end of the wick continued to burn, hollowing out the middle of the candle as I recited the blessings. I had to snuff it out, discard it, and start over. Don't tell me if some halakhic responsum forbids this. Since then I've trimmed the wicks.

Tonight was the Jewish celebratory dinner, another breaking of our diets. Matzo ball soup and challah (plus veggies). I made the soup and veggies, and I'm not revealing where I bought the challah, but it was good. What, no latkes? No, because B. is the only one who'd eat them. In years gone, we'd have my mother and (if he was in town) my brother over, and three people would eat enough latkes to make it worthwhile making them. But my mother is no longer with us and my brother isn't here, so we skipped that.

B. also bought two donuts for dessert. But I came downstairs to fix dinner to find a bag on the floor that now contained only one and a half donuts. No prize for guessing the species of the culprit.