Especially a newspaper in which you write, edit, and design the pages.
When I get a disgruntled phone call or angry letter, I want to cry. I want to scoop up my imperfect child I cared for so much and tell it that despite what people say, she is wonderful.
The Skaneateles Press was something like an adopted child for me. I knew nothing about its history or quirks going in, but I spent a lot of time learning them and nurturing the paper like it was my own.
Now, I’ll be heading back home to Oneida...









