Clayface II

"Ooh, you must get this face mask," she gushed. "It makes my skin sooooo soft." 

I went very, very still. I was, of course, proud that my niece was taking care of her skin, but I was reminded how a once integral part of my routine lapsed in practice. 

Products have to be user-friendly, or else they won't get . . . used. When I posted about face masks, I was currently using one in a tube—simply squeeze and apply. But shortly thereafter I purchased the internet-acclaimed Aztec Secret Indian Healing Clay. 

Which has to be measured out and mixed with liquid. Even when using official measurements, it never came out right. Too thick or too thin. So I gradually stopped using it, unwilling to wrestle with it, but since I officially had a mud mask in the house, I didn't purchase an alternative. 

Until the recommendation from the teenager. As soon as we parted ways, I fumbled open Amazon and desperately searched. It had to be in a tube—I had bought one once in a tub, and it dried out—and preferably from the Dead Sea. I love the Dead Sea. It's a skincare addict's dream. 

There were two I settled on to try. The first is by Adovia, and it spread on easily, sank in, and did its job. After washing it off in the shower—golly! How bad of me to fall off the mask wagon!

This review echoes my experience too—that while it gets nice and tight, it "gives" enough so it doesn't flake like mad when dry. So I can talk with it on.

Via cosmeticsanctuary.com

The next (I like having backups), for one day soon, is by 27 Minerals. But times may change, and new products available by then. (Yum yum!) 

Now, I can breathe easy at not being sandbagged by kinfauna. . . until next time.    

Ani Kinor

It was a regular weekday morning. I scurried along with the rest of the commuters, off to another day at the office, a day like any other day. 

I was mildly anxious about something, but then, mildly anxious is my default state. Like I said, a day like any other day. 

I passed the spot where the musicians usually play, flutey pan-pipes and bland muzak and crooned Motown. But today was my favorite, a serene, dignified violinist with a Mona Lisa smile. She always gathers a crowd. 

I knew the tune that throbbed from her fingers, caressing my ears: "Yerushalayim Shel Zahav." My chest expanded as the familiar notes uplifted my soul, and I sang, grinning, under my breath: "Ha-lo le-khol shirayikh, Ani kinor."

I had been so blissful it didn't occur to me to drop some money into her jar until I was at work. Shoot. 

But the next thought that occurred to me was Yosef. The teenage Yosef, freshly abducted, on his way to the unknown and frightening future, but through his terror breaks through the scent of sweet spices. I am with you, is the message. 

 

As He is with me. And whoever else who was able to hear the words, for the upcoming yuntif: 

"A ram's horn calls out on the Temple Mount in the Old City . . ."

   

One Day

• "Tu B'Av: Kapara and Adult Responsibility"; 

• "Ideal to Reality: Practical Strategies to Reach Your Goals"; and 

Rabbi Lau. Need I Say More?

Messing around with the On Demand on my cable, I was flipping through the options on the Jewish Network, Shalom TV. I was aiming for Rabbi Mordechai Becher's "Dimension of the Daf" but was waylaid by an interview with Rabbi Lau. 

I spent a breathless hour and twenty minutes quite simply enraptured.

I was quite delighted to find it available on the OU website.

There are some stories told that coulda knocked me down with a feather. Enjoy.