There are certain things that never fail to make me feel better. A hot bath. Chocolate. A cup of tea. The perfect thrift store find. The list goes on, but “time with my sister” is definitely very near the top of that list.
= best breakfast ever
When I was a kid, I never thought that the little girl who played Barbies with me every day and wanted to take my princess dress-up clothes out in the mud would grow up to be one of my best friends. She’s turning 23 on February 24th, and 10 days later I turn 26. I like to think she was my 3rd birthday present, just a few days early. Thanks, Mom and Dad. I like her a lot.
Katherine and I try to see each other at least once a month. It had been about that long and then some, so she packed up and visited this weekend. We had a great time relaxing, watching awful TV (Bravo, anyone?), cooking delicious food, drinking champagne, antiquing, picnicking, eating baklava in the sunshine, watching movies (including Breaking Dawn, which was so terrible I can’t even talk about it), and laughing until our guts hurt.
The sweetest little sweet shop.
I’ve had a few sad days lately, but seeing my sister this weekend and getting to talk about deep dark things over cheeseburgers without feeling like she is judging me – for my innermost thoughts or for the extra bacon I put on my burger – was like therapy. In fact, Michael said today, “You’re so happy when Katherine is here.” I guess that’s what spending the weekend with someone who has known you for almost 23 years can do for you.
Well, that and some really, really good baklava.