For the last month or so conversations with Kate have been stormy. We seem to argue about any tiny thing. It’s always a traditional phone ritual that Kate blows a fuse over my habit of only talking on the phone on my time. Admittidly, my time isn’t too generous. Generally it is when I have my hands in the sink washing dishes, or on the wheel while driving. To date I haven’t come up with an exact solution to our disunity.
About four years ago I visited my elder sister while she was living in her city girl apartment overlooking the downtown streets of Asheville, North Carolina.
At this point in time, Kate was going through a particularly moody, less-than-thrilled over being single phase of gloom, doom and drama. And as for myself, well I was acting like a melancholic cabin fevor crazed brat. Needless to say- we weren’t a terrific combo.
Hiking a gorgeous Carolina mountain seemed like a great way for us to re-group and rectify the relationship.
Unfortunately, this planned outing led to both of us insisting the other needed to see a therapist.
Kate sobbed in the midst of the rainstorm while parking herself in the middle of the trail, and my snooty little sister-self hiked back alone.
A pre-arranged blind double date set up by one of Kate’s coworkers did nothing to alleviate the situation. The guys we ended up going out for drinks with worked in white jumpsuits at a sprout factory tending to huge vats of organic sprouts. Kate’s date ended up being a good foot and a half shorter than her. He was a sweet boy from Israel. Kate, in her heels, towered over him. My date, on the other hand, weighed so much more than me that he made me feel tiny. I also felt like my large earrings were a tiny accessory in comparison to the huge gold chain that hung from his jnco jeans. Still at war with my sister, I convinced her to let them come back to her apartment so that I could proceed with my plan of going to sleep and having her carry on the chore of entertaining the sprout boys.
Oddly enough, the two of us ended making peace just because we figured out how to laugh with each other. We went thrift shopping (which really does solve so many problems!). Back at the downtown apartment with a bottle of port and a camera on hand, we laughed together while Kate posed for one of her ever transpiring photoshoots.
Obviously, I am not in the position to photograph Mary Poppins….
Err, I mean Kate at the current time. I am confident though that somehow we will both find a way to unite our laughter and patience over the phone lines.
Heck, on second thought; perhaps skype, boots, hats, gowns and umbrellas might just do the trick!
Looking for more completely ridiculous Sweet Ridge Sisters photo shoots? Here you go….