Rockin' Robin Reunion

My grandmother was an interesting woman. She was the type of woman who, had it been acceptable in her day, would have kept her maiden name when she married. She remembered the first automobile that drove down main street in Boise. She lost her first fiance to the flu epidemic in 1919. She lived on her own until she was 93, when she moved into an assisted living apartment. She quite smoking at 95 when she got tired of walking to the smoker's room.

She was the one who taught me about the beauty of the Round Robin letter. It's like the snail mail version of an email chain. It's like a cup of tea, a good book and the perfect hug rolled into one perfectly packed manilla envelope waiting in your mail box. My college roommates and I have been writing letters like this for almost seven years. We've been through births and deaths, career changes and marriages. We've built a history on paper. 


A history on paper is of great value, but time spent together face to face is priceless. In four short days I get to see some of the coolest, awesomest, most amazing ladies in the whole world. The third Love House Reunion is on it's way and I can't wait. There will be laughing, there will be dancing, there will be belly slapping. Don't judge. You'd slap Marilyn's belly if you could.