When Sisters Get Together

One of my favorite moments in Missouri at Thanksgiving time was going out to the garden at Joella's home with my two sisters Joella and Kezia, and harvesting cabbage, cauliflower, and broccoli.

Yes, these cool-weather veggies are still producing wonderfully this time of year.

Joella had to pick them before the temperature went down to 18*.

Now is this a beauty of a cauliflower or not?

And broccoli!

I was having to ask God to deliver me from the temptation to be envious, jealous, and covetous!

My mouth was practically watering over homegrown cruciferous vegetables still growing at the end of November in the mild temperatures of Missouri!

But even better was just the fun of being in the garden together with sisters. 

I guess I get the love of sisters from my mom.

My mom is pretty classy when it comes to sisters. 

She was one of three.

 

My mom is in touch with her two younger sisters often to this day. 

They are all three different. Beliefs are different; living styles are different.

But those three sisters love each other and keep in touch.

They call and send cards and share photos and memories.

I hope we sisters always do.

 Joella generously allowed dozens of people to troop in and out of her home all Thanksgiving weekend (with some limits, of course, now and then). 

And Anita (I forgot to mention that I have eight sisters because my four sisters-in-law are sisters, too),

kept bringing or sending food over like Navajo frybread, even though she had to be at home most of the time with a bedridden daughter.

Here are all the sisters and brothers who were able to come to the Thanksgiving get-together.

When we get together, we sisters like to see what the other sisters' families are involved in, like music.

We stand there and ooh and aah at Joella's family's accomplishments on bells and violin, (or like me, feel squeamish because you can't even start to do music like that).

We rave over each others' daughters' creations, like these cherry tarts Susanna made for Sunday morning.

We admire each others' handiwork, like these baby quilts Anita and Amaris made. (Elizabeth and I both bought one because that is what sisters do. I don't know who I am going to give it to, but someone will get a lovely quilt.)

Regina was right in the middle of all the cooking and hosting and put up with dozens of youngsters at her place the whole weekend!

 

Thankfully, the boys stayed in a big tent which cut down on some of the foot traffic in the house except when it came to bathrooms. 

Oh, my! 

It was a miracle if you went down this hall or that one and discovered a bathroom free with the door actually open!

Once, before leaving for home, my youngest sister instructed her two little boys to go use the  bathroom, and I saw her littlest one turn around down the hall with a frown on his face. The door was closed.

"There is another one down the other hall!" I told him brightly, leading him down the other way.

When we arrived, there was his older brother, sitting dutifully on the floor in the hall, also waiting his turn!

All I could do was laugh!

After all, laughter is what sisters are for.