Me and My Sister

There is really something to be said about casting away your timidness and living in the moment with full joy. For some reason, the moment my sister and I get together, we tend to do just that… to the bafflement/disdain/mild amusement of those around us.

I mean really, TWO FEET of snow? How can you not play in that?? So deep it spills into your boots and dampens your sock, kissing your skin with frosty goodness. So fresh, heaping handfuls must be gathered and eaten, pausing only to huff great gusts of air in an attempt to warm frozen throats. So perfectly preserved, just waiting to be frolicked in, churned up by prancing boots and shaped into angels with the flailing of outstretched limbs. So malleable, it begs to be formed into an evil, robot mini-snowman and his league of tiny snow followers.

With frozen noses ready for indoor adventure, we turn our sights toward hunting of the most civilized variety. In the close, overstuffed confines of a busy consignment shop, dusty treasures can be discovered, nestled among the whicker dress forms and ceramic pillboxes. Vintage, sneeze-inducing fabrics of every color and pattern drape couches, chairs, and settees representing every decade of the 20^th century. Buckets and buckets of costume jewelry winks from within their glass prisons, begging to be released on bail with the hopes of dressing our ears or draping our necks just as they did in decades past.

Tucked behind the imposing dining room table in a cramped room little more than a widened hallway, a dainty princess chair awaits, all high-backed, curving perfection among its dour neighbors. With carved wood flowers and pertly tufted upholstery, it practically begs us to take it home, promising to be the ideal frosting in a strawberry and orange flavored office.

Onward to the hole-in-the-wall restaurant, inauspicious in its ungilded surroundings, patronized but only for our ravenous appetites built from the furniture hunt. Sitting down at empty tables, we put ourselves in the patrons’ hands. From their unadorned walls to the long, simple counter, we had no reason to suspect that the Italian feast set before us would charm us so thoroughly. Why ever would we hold back our joy, despite the employees’ amusement at our moans of culinary appreciation and the sighs of utter bliss? Loaves of tender white bread and fresh made mozzarella call like the sirens they are, and our arms are filled with their goodness as we wave goodbye with fluttering fingers.

Back in the house—the very epitome of coziness—we eye the old bathroom floor and picture the possibilities. Pry bars to subfloor reveal the muted beauty of ancient hardwood floors, veiled like a bride on her wedding day. Like the kids we are on the inside, we dance in glee, doing an impromptu jig for our discovery. Hard work, sweat, dust, and screeching wood twist together, creating the symphony of home improvement. Sore and exhausted, we collapse in bed—but still giggle fits find us.

I am beyond grateful for a sister who is every bit as silly and adventurous as I am. Vacations together, whether in the British Isles or in a tiny, snowbound cottage in New England, are always just the thing to rejuvenate my spirit and bring my inner child to the forefront. And really, where else can I get a chocolate icing-slathered, chocolate chip muffie adorned with multi-colored flame candles?

Do you have someone in your life who tends to bring out the kid in you? Someone who is your perfect travel companion or who can make you throw your inhibitions to the wind? Tell me about it!

Never heard of a muffie? Me neither! My sister introduced me to this delightful desert - lighter than a cookie, but more yummy than a muffin. I haven't had time to develop my own version yet, but here is a great recipe that I found online at food.com. Check it out! Click Here