Sisters, Sisters

"I'm so lucky to have such a fun sister like you!" If that isn't the ultimate compliment, then by golly tell me what is!

My sister, Caroline, is 10. She is the only child (besides our dog) that is still at home with my parents. My brother and I are just a short drive down the road; 30 minutes down the freeway to Seattle (me) and another 30 minutes to Tacoma (him). I'd say as a family we all got a pretty good deal out of the whole in-state college thing. My parents are welcome to come visit either of us at any time, and we have the luxury of being able to go home when our schedules allow.

As wonderful as it is that my family is able to spend a good amount of time together, I have come to understand the importance of building a personal relationship with my sister, just us two. Now that I am graduated and living with only 6 girls (as opposed to 15...) I am better able to devote time and have the space to entertain her. 

One of the most wonderful things about loving someone is that, oftentimes, just being in their presence is enough. While Caroline and I surely had some adventures over the weekend when she stayed the night with me in Seattle, even just sitting in my room and reading our books in silence was ok by us. 12 years may separate us in age, but at our core, our interests are roughly the same. Caroline is beyond her years, and I still feel a connection to many things I enjoyed in my childhood, making it easy to find things we enjoy doing together. Our Sunday night included seeing Monsters, Inc. in 3-D at the $3 theater, snapping iPhone pics of ourselves, painting our toenails neon colors with heavy glitter overlay, and making a 10 PM trip to Target, the result of which was becoming the proud owner of a Hello Kitty air-popper popcorn machine. 

In the morning I surprised Caroline with a trip to Pike Place Market. Saying that she and I both love farmer's markets is an understatement. We watched rustic men sling fish while she ate a giant pickle from the old-fashioned jar at DeLaurenti, and I sipped on an Americano from the original Starbucks. For lunch we sat at the glass window of the Crumpet Shop, watching a man cut away excess dough from crumpets freshly pulled from a giant oven. We made our treats last as long as we could; me with my crumpet topped with ricotta and raspberry preserves, and Caroline with her apple cinnamon piroshky. Our efforts were further prolonged when I took a bite of her pickle, its juice flying in spout-like fashion over her head and onto the glass, causing a bellowing laugh from the man sitting next to us, and the need for more than a couple paper napkins. We made friends with the man selling jazz apples on the corner, who I think through his witty banter was trying to sell more than just apples to me. Caroline showed her love for everything truffled as we sampled many things flavored by those extraordinary little fungi. 

As if her sophisticated taste for truffle wasn't enough to stun me, Caroline remarked how the jewelry in the antique shop was so very Lady Mary and Downton Abbey-like. We picked out our favorite engagement rings from the 1920s, and oogled over diamonds and fabulous costume jewelry. Walking along the pier, Caroline enjoyed salt water taffy from a brown paper bag as we guarded ourselves with our down coats against the sea breeze and watched the ferris wheel turn. 

Most importantly, we laughed...at everything. I think people thought we were a bit ridiculous. We were just amused by ourselves and enjoying being together. More than once we were asked by vendors how we knew each other. The formality and ignorance of people astounds me. "What do we live for but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?" Wise words from Mr. Bennett of Pride & Prejudice, and exactly the aim of these two sisters. All we cared about was sharing the little world we created between the two us.

We're not lucky; we're blessed, yes.

New Year's Eve

Moveable

The kiddos went back to school today. For the first time since before the start of preschool, roughly 18 years ago, I did not join them. I saw students with fresh books and a hustle in their steps walking en masse down Greek Row and onto campus. As for me, I sauntered and lagged behind. I fancied a good laugh right about then over how ridiculous I had probably looked in the past, struggling to make it to class on time (on more than just a few occasions), just like I saw others doing now. 

To be fair, I am sure I will miss school at some point in my life. Nostalgia will inevitably arise during some random 40 hour workweek. My brain will skip over the stressful former reality of studying, and instead choose to focus on the countless pajama days I once enjoyed, and of hours spent in my bed writing papers and reading. Even now it sounds horrid, but I'm sure the day will come when I long to reclaim my youth and the constant acquiring of knowledge that came with it.

Knowledge, however, doesn't stop at age 22. While the end of school is clearly the finale of my educational foundation, it is also a jumping off point for the rest of my life. To compensate for my failure to feel distraught over not having to back to school today, I started my book club read. Yes, I am in a book club. A few friends and I started it. Four young women; three graduates, and one still in undergrad; two international studies majors, one English major, and one art history and communication major. It is a small group, but our interests and backgrounds are guaranteed to result in tasteful reads and fantastic conversation. There will probably also be treats, not only for the mind, but also our stomachs (girls, I promise to always bake new treats for you, so long as you approve of being my taste-testing guinea pigs). We are to call ourselves "The Moveable Feast". 

I hope to engage in a moveable feast all my life. Just as Paris stayed with Hemingway for the rest of his days, I too anticipate my experiences, influences, and memories accompanying and shaping me along the way (hopefully with personal memories of Paris thrown into the mix). I also hope to be part of other people's moveable feast, impressing myself and therefore my God upon them in a way that is positive, and hopefully eternal. 

Shall we strive to always be learning and growing? Let us do just that. Let us never be satisfied with being content.