So now I’m here, in fabulous Cazenovia —a honeyed small town, with many kind, intelligent, creative and mostly quite tolerant people. A throwback to the good ol’ days when neighbors helped one another and looked after each others’ children as if they were their own. A place where only a few feel it important to keep up with the Joneses and our big differences are mostly how to ecologically handle the crap in the lake.
The only real shortcoming I see is we’re a bit light in the diversity department, but I’m here now, so at least it’s a step in the right direction.
Before moving up, I wondered what my life might be as a Jew in Central New York but, am so far, pleased to report that in our lovely hideaway and it’s surrounding areas I have found it not an issue one way or another. How lovely!
My Nana is probably rolling in her grave as I’m probably the first Jew in town to have my Christmas lights up this year after making the mistake of putting them up in Decembers sub-zero temperatures our first year here.
So here I sit in almost 2013, my life having made drastic changes in the past five years — a move, a bankruptcy due to $170K in medical bills that BCBS didn’t cover, no longer any money in my upper west side pocket, three kids in college with a collective $100K in school loans, a boiler on its way out in the midst of the same problems that we all have in one way or another. And I’m as happy as a pig in chits.
That either says I’m an idiot, or that I’m just as human and as fallible as anyone else, doing the best I can, struggling along with my newfound friends, in like company, not alone.