A letter unread
The Talmud says a dream that isn't interpreted is like a letter that isn't read. Which is a lovely line until you have a nervous one at 4am and your study partner is asleep.
I dreamt the challah wouldn't rise. Over and over, every Shabbat, flat dough. Very subtle, my subconscious.
So on Sunday I did a small, informal version of hatavat chalom, 'making the dream good': I told it to three friends from study group over bagels, and they answered me that it was a good dream. One of them added, 'and also you need new yeast.' Both were true. The new yeast worked. So did the friends.
Moonlight through the sukkah roof
First night of Sukkot, and the moon came up huge, a breath from full, right through the gaps in the schach. You're supposed to be able to see the stars through the roof of a sukkah, it's practically the law, and we could see all of them plus the moon plus a curious raccoon on the fence.
We ate my lopsided round challah (round for the new year, lopsided for authenticity) in our coats. My study group has been reading about the ushpizin, the seven holy guests invited in over the festival, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Aaron, Joseph and David, each linked to one of the sefirot. So I set an extra place.
My partner asked if Abraham wanted soup. Obviously Abraham wanted soup. He's famous for hospitality.