Check out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here . Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. "What is that noise?" I imagine the Pop of the mom-and-pop grocery store said. The Mom walked over to the front window and laughed (so I conjecture). Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. "What is it?" Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. "That darling little chubby girl is skating." "On what? Cans?" "Yes." Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. I was probably 6 or 7 years old when I skated for the first time. With each foot snugly encased in a crushed beer can, I slowly made my way around the bend of the gravel driveway to the road and along the shoulder.  I crossed in front of the mom-and-pop store with the goal of reaching the stop sign. There I rested for a long while.  Most likely I wished I had a nickel for a candy bar or maybe a dime for a bottle of Nehi soda. Skating was more work than I thought it would be. Up, I stood, and