I went back to the old Synagogue. As I wandered around, I found small things from my past, which I gathered up to take with me. I went back again later. Rabbi Fogel wasn't there & I knew he'd died. There were a couple of women in a large meeting room; one thin, one fat. Then I was at work, taking covers out of the new easy reader books to put in the back room. Later I was part of a religious group, getting ready to attend a meeting. I was trying to find something to wear. At first I was going to wear a teal colored polar fleece jumpsuit, but I realized that it'd be too hot & too much of a pain to deal with if I had to use the bathroom. I ended up putting on a white shirt & red pants. I considered wearing a light blue denim shirt on top of the white one, but decided against it, as it would be too "red, white & blue." I went to the meeting. The group was friendly & the leaders were pleased; they all accepted me. Afterwards a few of us were walking home. We all lived near one another in a longleaf pine forest. Everyone had brought dead tree limbs from my place. Most of the people ret'd the limbs where they'd gotten them from, as they were supposed to. One man puts his down nearby, but not in the right place. He didn’t think it mattered much. I didn’t think he was very nice.
I was raised Jewish, but I haven't had anything to do with Judaism since my Bat Mitzvah (at age 13, for you goyim out there.) Rabbi Fogel was the head guy at our local Synagogue when I was a kid. It was strange to dream of the Synagogue--almost like I was just there yesterday. I remembered the entire layout. Amazing how deeply things from childhood stick in one's mind. I even still remember how to sing "the 4 Questions" in Hebrew for Passover. I also remember the blessings for the wine & the bread. Oy vay!