A little earlier I was in a conversation with a friend who’s just undergone chemo (not for the first time in his young life). We were talking about random things, and I mentioned I’d noticed most of my NYC Jewish friends – my friend’s MOT but from the south of the US – use disposable plates, tablecloths even. (Not Kelsey; he’s got real dinner plates.) To me, it had always appeared to be a matter of practicality / saving time over going out of one’s way, with a random flavour to it at that. My friend added another perspective, “That’s so sad. It makes life seem so temporary.”

Those little things…

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