I'm in the Camp IF office, decompressing with Olga and Vlastic. I've just completed a decade of Passovers in the same retreat center. That's 80 days of work, not counting the prep/meetings, etc. I gave about 15 lectures/discussions, ran trivia competition and two improv/acting workshops, 24 minyanim, 2 sedarim, etc. It's the etc. that gets to me. Sigh.

An hour, or way more has passed. We processed quite a bit, I think we needed to. Olga and Vlastic are among my people here at camp. Olga and I just discussed Woody Allen movies and the similarity between The Cherry Orchard by Chekhov and September.

Then there's Rose, whose father passed away (rachmana litzlan) a few years ago at this time. We spoke for quite a while that year. I tried to be a good pair of ears with a heart in between. Since then she greets me with a gift and a card every year when I come up. Past cards have been heavy and beautiful. This years card was light reading, but hit the spot: A Passover poem for you: As you're pouring the wine and you're sharing the matzah, may your worries be few and your blessings be lotsa! G-d bless Rose.

May G-d bless all the good people that I worked with and for over these past ten days. It's been an effort and also a pleasure. Soon it's back to another world, a world in which I am not (as Olga described the way the seniors here view me) a rock star.

Good night Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are. And G-d Bless.