Just yesterday, I was a maestrocajoling music from frenziedemails, staccato deadlines, thosewho fawned for favor with miraculouslyconjured old-world blintzes and rugelachto remind me of my grandmother.Today, their eyes avert as I stealdown the halls like the hauntingflute of Ravel’s Pantomime. I had ignoredthis unspooling of my life, the oncoming quietto be filled with crisp apples... Continue Reading →