My Sister Was Here – Hallelujah!

In my April 6 post, I talked about looking for infections.  If I believed strongly in jinxing myself, I would be freaked out, because on April 7 I had to start antibiotics for strep throat.  I have a swollen, red tonsil with a pocket of icky white stuff that isn’t better yet.  I emphasized vigilance about infections because prednisone masks the symptoms and they tend to progress further before we notice them.  I haven’t had fever or intense pain, which would have been guaranteed without the prednisone, but the flip side is this prolonged course. 

I mentioned my elf.  She had to remain anonymous until she announced her presence to the local family, but it was my youngest sister, in from Minneapolis.  It was the first time we pulled such a prank, keeping her visit plans a secret, and also the first time she stayed at my house instead of in town with the parents.  We had a wonderful time, from the delicious secret plans to our conversation on the way to her departure shuttle.  Who knew that highly different, feuding childhood sibs could turn out to be such close friends? 

Who knew that she was coming to take care of my house and shorten my prep for putting it on the market?  It was her spring break, and I anticipated sitting on the deck with a beverage and chatting about life.  Hah!  Her plan was to whiz through my house, throwing away things, packing others in the pod, and rearranging the remainders into a fashionable showplace.  I had to help, instead of putting my feet up and nursing my sore throat.  Claiming that she “loves” organizing, she went through yarn, books, and clothes with equal fervor, shaking her head at what I’ve accumulated and moved around over the past twenty years.  She cleaned my carpets.  By the time she left, I was out of ways to say “thank you”.  Maybe I can knit her a car. 

We took time off to make two visits to the parents.  They were thrilled to see my sister and overjoyed that she brought her animal, a blue pomeranian, with her.  Nothing makes them happier than dog visits.  Mitchell tipped around their house, leading Daddy with his leash.  He sat in Mama’s lap for a restless moment, letting her hug him and play with his abundant hair.  The second visit had to be short because they were preparing to pick up friends and go to Olive Garden.  We asked if there was a special occasion.  My dad said “No, this is what we do,” as if outlining their busy social schedule.  Chief Sister in Charge of Parent Care has done a wonderful job of making recreation for them. 

I didn’t forget my instructions when my sister left yesterday.  I continued clearing out my room today, and changed the old, dark curtains to light, neutral, crowd-pleasing ones.  I put away-or discarded-a boxful of things that I couldn’t live without last year.  Things lose their appeal so quickly.  I should confine my purchases to books, music and craft supplies. 

Oh heck, 1 a.m. and I haven’t taken the bedtime dose of antibiotics.  At this rate, my tonsil will just die and fall off. 



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