Sunset at 4:12 PM in Carlisle, Massachusetts
I came down the stairs early Thursday morning because, well, because we had to get up early to drive into MGH to get the results of my latest scans (and Boston seems to get farther and farther away, the roads filled with cars at inappropriate hours, the days dark by four, the flakes of snow slanting towards the weary eyes of the commuters, the cancer patients, the drivers with their loaves of bread, the troopers with their wary eyes, the equally wary drivers tuned into their apps: police ahead, disabled vehicle--the promise to outsmart traffic: should you merge at the last minute, should you wait patiently in the growing length of cars? What did being a good girl get you so far? There are no points for suffering), but also because I had woke up dismayed, remembering that I had forgotten to move the damn Elves on the Shelf. Why do we have these elves? Where is my embattled Judaism? (This year, Elijah has stated his profound dislike of Christmas music, chalking it up to his Judaism--the