Heather is 10 and a half months younger than me. She got the short end of the stick, and she shouldn’t have. She remembers in detail many things that I don’t. I would like to say, though, for the record, that she is an extremely beautiful person. I always have pictured her as being a ballet dancer. If she were a dog, she’d be an Afghan hound. When things got bad at the house when we were children, she curled up with/into books. I escaped outside. One Christmas, we got a bike. I think I can still smell it along with the Christmas tree. It was a 36″ 3- speed, I think, from Sears, and Mom and Dad put it together secretly. Problem was, it was one bike, so Heather and I could never ride bikes together.