mrs. schneider. i was watching her wanted from my apartment window from the windowsill, and i was looking over the windowsill. i was about five years old. i could've been much five or older, this is a spring day, she has a beautiful flower dress, short sleeves, and she was rolling some dough. and i was watching her roll the dough and she would take some of the mixture she had made, walnuts and raisins and brown sugar in all of this and put it onto a piece of the dough and roll it into a little precedent. i put that on a cookie sheet. and then she would slip it into a green, wedgwood oven. she would leave that and go back to making more of these things. it is an eastern european pastry. they are magnificent. i am watching these undulating movements of becoming more and more mesmerized by mrs. shiner and then, of course, wafting across from her kitchen window was the aroma of these goodies being baked. mrs. schneider did not look at me once during this whole period of time as i watched her. until she p