ONCE UPON KASAMBA'S HOUSE
The dynamics are changing in Casa Kasamba!As you know every Jewish home is a bit of a fairy tale and here is mine;
Once upon a time, in the land of green and gold, there lived a young Merchant. The young Merchant took as his bride a lovely girl from the distant shores of the Americas, from up the hill, to be exact. Her name was Kasamba. They moved into a charming cottage on a woody lane, known as the money pit.
Soon afterwards, the Merchant and his bride Kasamba celebrated the birth of a much beloved and very yellow, son, called Artichoke.
That’s when the bride Kasamba became… Kasambamama.
Anyway, the Merchant sold many pieces of cloth to enable him to buy the necessities for his newly born son; like a scale electric racing set and video games.
It came to pass, when little Artichoke at nine months old, started to walk. And when the Merchant and Kasambamama saw their little boys tiny feet shuffling through the garden and they heard his delightfully high baby voice, they thought their hearts would burst with pride.
A lump came to Kasambamama’s throat… and she began to cry.
.
Little Artichoke was the light of everyone’s life, that is until the Merchant and his wife were blessed with the birth of an adorable baby girl.
And adorable she was, and she was adorable, and cute and…. I think you get the picture. Ahem! And they called her Asparagus. In his own special way Artichoke was really proud of his new sister, so much so, that every time someone complimented her… he banged her firmly on the head.
Soon little Artichoke surprised everyone with his first words, which were… “I’m Bored”
The birth of Radish followed Artichoke’s third birthday. Poor Radish, took notice of the fact that as Artichoke was a boy and Asparagus was a girl, he would have to be really special, in order to draw attention to himself. So he would play in traffic. It worked every time. Lo and behold, no matter what was going on in the house, everyone noticed him!
At this point in Artichoke’s life, Arsenal (the London soccer team) figured majorly in his existence. His obsession revealed itself through his décor: his walls were plastered with pictures of Arsenal players, and his dress: he wore the terribly chic (emphasis on terribly) polyester Arsenal T-shirt at every available opportunity. He also looked around him for role models, from whom to learn morals, virtues and behaviour. Artichoke seemed to found all of these rolled up, in one person. Much to the Merchant and Kasambamama’s chagrin, this person turned out to be none other than the virtuous Bart Simpson.
It was at this juncture that the Merchant chose to become ‘Travelling Merchant’.
The neighbours always knew when the merchant was planning a serious business trip because they would hear him shout,
“KASAMBA! Where are my swimming trunks?”
The Merchant was truly a super traveller; able to fill out immigration cards with his eyes closed and open kosher meals (and recycle the plastic!) in less than thirty seconds flat. In fact, he travelled so often that the concierge in his favourite hotel always welcomed him ‘home’, while his kids started to call his bedroom ‘the guest room’.
Little Tomato was born when Artichoke was nine years old and the Merchant was home on hiatus. Tomato was a very cute baby and at the tender age of two knew and recognised the entire alphabet.
In the meantime, Artichoke was like yeast, he grew and grew and grew, causing Kasambamama.to hide all the protein in the house, but he found it anyway, because then he grew some more. He also took a cue from the oven. Artichoke was soon called the ‘pyrolitic kid’. He thought that if he ran around and got hot enough…
he’d self-clean.
One of Artichokes teachers wondered where he got his energy and exuberance from, so one fine day, he surreptitiously passed by the charming cottage bought by the Merchant.
He witnessed Kasambamama setting out a six foot American flag in the flowerpot, and the Merchant compacting the rubbish by standing in the dustbin wearing moon boots.
“Aha!”, he thought.
Then one day, everyone noticed that Kasambamama.was very tearful.
She cried when she was sad, when she was happy, when she was hungry, and when she was full, when it was nighttime, when it was daytime…
(You catch the drift??) Boruch Hashem, a few months later, little Cucumber was the result.
It came to pass, that Artichoke at seventeen years of age, is going to Yeshiva.
And when the Merchant and Kasambamama saw their big boys massive feet, shuffling up to the passport office and they heard his delightfully deep voice say his name, they thought their hearts would burst with pride. A lump came to Kasambamama’s throat and she began to cry…. again.
The End.
Goodbye Artichoke!!!
We will miss you!
posted by kasamba @ 5/23/2006
33 Comments:
It's not 'the end'... it's the beginning of a new chapter, a new adventure! (for artichoke and for casa kasamba.)
Sarah:
It's true, it is a new chapter- but I am absolutely traumatised!
The next contender:
Thank you- I like yours!
So your an Arsenal supporter too?
Oy.
Love your writing... sad what you wrote. It seems like times flies as fast as you can read it. I know the feeling The Merchant gets when entering a hotel and is recognized! It is not a good feeling, especially when you would rather be home!
My son is a big Arsenal fan as well (Thierry Henry poster right next to one of the Chazon Ish LOL).
I can almost hear his big footsteps 10 years from now.. HELP.. slow down time!
kasa, you're gonna turn travelling salesman and visit him!! Did you have to give your kids veggie names? lol
x
You are a great story teller!
what is it with mothers and wierd vegetable names?
mine won't stop calling me cababage head.
(must be a 70's thing...)
When a tender story! And they are all right-- it is a new beginning. How exciting it must be for your son-- how hard it must be for you to live in a house without his energy circulating through it and his feet bounding down your halls--
but it is a new adventure and some how-- well, I can't say you'll get used to it because I don't think any mother ever really gets used to it-- what a beautiful story.
i understand... my mum has been through the same thing (and we have fewer veget...um, i mean children to keep her busy while one is in yeshiva.)
He'll always be your special little Artichoke no matter how far from home he is and now you can join Merchant on his travels to visit the yeshiva! :)
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Almost frei:
Thank you! It really does go by too quick!
Another Arsenal supporter- oy.
Kish:
I guess I will have to visit!
As for the veggie names, since they are growing in my house and each one has his own distinct flavour and texture- they are my very own garden!
Socialworker:
Thanks sweetie!
SJ:
LOL! It probably is a 70's thing!
Bonnie:
Thanks I'm glad you like it!
It will be weird without his energy around here... ahh well...
Jemima:
LOL! I can't even imagine WHAT he would blog about!!! And thanks as well!
Sarah:
I will need pointers from your Mum!
Awww. It's always hard when one of your own little vegetables decides to uproot himself and plant himself somewhere else. I know it was hard on my parents when my siblings and I left home. And like Sarah said, even though he's no longer there in your backyard, he'll always be your little Artichoke.
Sraps:
(sniff) you're right- he is UPROOTING!!!!! And he will always be be my little 5'10 artichoke!
hi kasamba, I could honestly say I try to make time to read this post but I cant.its very long and i am sooo busy right now. Just dropping note. I will try to read it and make my comment. :)
Chavera:
Thanks for stopping by!
Limey:
I'm hoping he'll phone/call ME!
Asparagus:
I love you too sheifele!!!
Now stop MSN-ing and go to bed!
You have GCSE's- remember?
xxx
A beautiful, touching, yet hysterical post. Love it! Love the names!
And I'm with shopaholic on this one - my parents can't wait for their rotten veggies to get out of their house. :)
Sweet post!
INCREDIBLE.....
You are incredibly talented...One of the best posts I've EVER read..
nuff said.
You should see alot of Nachas from artichoke..and ur entire vegetable garden...
:-)
Thats a wonderful story Kasamba- you truly have talent as a writer- I really like the way you used humor.
As someone who has lost his family I was also very touched and hope that I can have even a bit of what you have experienced with your kids.
But Arsenal? Come on. That kid would have been so much cooler in a bright orange and royal blue Denver Broncos Jersey.
I have been away again and just caught up on all your story telling - you are a riot.
Quick question - completely off the topic ... I have re-read your previous posts about ADHD and I am in the need of some help. My husband was recently diagnosed with ADHD. Ever since I have known him often acts impulsively and inappropriately. This odd behavior somehow added to his charm and landed him the role of "life of the party" but when it was just the two of us behind closed doors - it was a disaster. I love my husband and therefore took him to a psychiatrist to have him evaluated. He was put on Adderral and I really see a difference already. I blame his parents and the school system for dismissing his behavior as being the "class clown". Even now, when I told my in-laws that he was diagnosed with ADHD - my father in law INSISTS that it is not so. SO now for my question ... do you know of any blogs or online support groups for people who have spouses that are ADHD?
Aww....!!!
If he needs places to dig in...
Love the vegetables.
Shopoholic:
Thanks sweetie, it'll be just as traumatic for them!
Moiy-Rah:
Artichoke- glad you liked it- artichoke.
Hisbonenus:
Thanks Darlin' (I'm sure you guys aren't rotten!;)
Ezer:
Ta very much!
David:
WOW! I'm blushing!
Amen!
Amishav:
B'ezras Hashem may you have your own fairtale soon!
Hanginup:
Welcome back!
Sorry to hear about your husband- just know that most successful entrepreneurs and politicions all have ADD!
There is an orginaization called Nefesh International. They consist of the best in frum therapists all over the world. They will put you in touch with someone who will help your husband and help you to deal with him. Make sure the therapist is task- based. You can email me at the_way_kasamba_sees_it@hotmail.co.uk
The point of blogging:
Yes, unfortunately I do!
Ezzie:
Yes, bless.
Tafka:
I'm glad that parrots like veggies!
What salad dressing do you use?
That story about Artichoke's teacher true?
Kish:
I couldn't even make that story up!
It's true- Atichoke told me his teacher chanced to pass by our house when it was July 4, (which explains the flag) which just by chance was the same day that the rubbish is collected, hence Hubby in the dustbin.
Hey Kas-- Yay for vegetables becoming ripe. Where overseas is your veggie going to Yeshiva?
Mazel tov. Some people may forget what a HUGE accomplishment it is to get through school, move on, move out, and grow up. Many kids don't. Trust me, working in an urban public high school...I know the other side.
Tamara;
Yes, he is uprooting because he is ripe!!!!I am thankful that he's going to such a good yeshiva in the USA! Thanks!
I love how you did the story with vegatable characters. Thanks for sharing.
hatzlacha
Shopaholic:
You are such a cookie! Thanks for the offer, I might just take you up on it! In the meantime, my parents are going to look after him and boy, will have their hands full!
Ivnsm27:
Thanks so much!
Certainly, Kasamba, you have out-gardened everyone I know, what a spectacular back yard, so well utilized and prosperous.
No Doubt, your pen is just as prolific and magnificent in the outpourings, this must be the finest and wittiest article I have read recently.
With all these vociferous commenting-characters, stored in your back room, you could start a variety store next to the vegetable garden, oh, excuse me, I guess you already have.
Great Post, but don't let it go to your head. Oh yeah, it is the watering of the garden that causes the continual growth of the wonderful fruits.
Thanks, I enjoyed my visit.
Jim:
You have won my award for most eloquent fabulous comment EVER!!!!!
THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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