In ASL class today it was our first day of being required to tell our stories in sign. Pressure was on, I'm gonna tell you what. I did okay, held my own, at least until I told the story of my 10 year old black and white dog named Boudreaux - even my teacher was impressed, not with my finger spelling but with the Cajun name my dog carries around. My hand hurt after telling that story.
Then I got home and a guy came by and I spent the late afternoon making mezuzahs. It seemed like the right thing to do.
