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How you found me, part 1

If I was more poetic, this post would be written as an ode to the wonders of statcounter. Alas, I am not. At least not at this time of night.

Some searches that have led people to this blog are below. (And, yes, this is what people like me do in the middle of the night instead of sleeping.) I'm calling this "part 1" in case I ever feel the need to continue the series.
and this...

There is a wealthy lady
Who lives in my neighborhood,
She has a cook to stock every shelf.
But Wednesday night she yells “Hooray”
And she shoots her cooks away,
Because she wants to bake the challah herself.
You can tell that baking challah is her pride and joy,
It’s a mitzvah she won’t ever shirk.


Shouldn't that be "shoos away" instead of "shoots away"?
Tee hee! Yes, it should be. I double-checked to make sure that the typo was theirs and not mine, and it was theirs. It's definietly not a mitzvah to bake your own challah if you have to SHOOT your cooks away in order to do so!
Make that "definitely."
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