ALLOW me, please, a PROUD moment as I hold FORTH about my dears, my family who have had the MOXIE to stand up and fight to make the world a better place. Each has hit more than one ROCKY moment, and yet, has persevered. I adore them, I appreciate them, I strive to be their equal in commitment and creativity. My heart is full and I love you all.

Georg’ann

When I was 12, I had a paper ROUTE. Heavy canvas bag slung over my shoulder. I’d march up the steep hill on Allen Street about half a mile away to the small apartment complex that was my exclusive territory.

My husband also had a paper route around the same age, though in a different decade and a different state, that took him up a steep hill. He rode through the neighborhood throwing papers from his bike.

Come collection day, I regularly used my profits to buy ROCKY road ice cream for myself and the neighbors. Carlos used his to buy milkshakes for his friends.

Though we were years apart in age, traveling up and down different hills, with different stories, we were destined I suppose. Forever bonded by a love of ice cream, keeping up with the news, and a tendency to spend our last pennies on some generous indulgence rather than saving them for a rainy day.

Heather