I remember reading the first Rabbi Small novel, Friday the Rabbi Slept Late, not long after it was published. It was a mystery set in a small town in Massachusetts, and the protagonist and detective was the local Rabbi, Rabbi David Small. It was a success (the author, Harry Kemelman, won the Edgar Award for Best First Novel), and the series continued until Kemelman’s death, though I quit reading after the sixth or seventh book.
This morning, the (incoming) Rabbi texted me to wish me Shabbat Shalom; I returned the sentiment and got back to proofreading the photo book Diane is making about our most recent Tulip Time trip.
Several hours later, I looked at my phone again and found I’d missed another text from Rabbi Nico – he didn’t just want to wish me a Shabbat Shalom, he wanted to talk. It’s as though he’d read my blog posting of yesterday – but he’d actually read the committee minutes I’d sent out yesterday afternoon and wanted to discuss what I’d written there.
It was a good conversation; I’m looking forward to his official arrival.