Sunday Scribblings. Two Peas in a pod

Two peas in a pod

That’s us in many ways. That’s not us in so many other ways. Fifteen months apart, so I have no memory at all of a time before A. She’s my little sister, but it’s always been “us” and “we”. We like… we remember… we used to… Me and A. A and me. Two peas. You see?

She’s the blonde one, with the Paul Newmann-blue eyes. I’m the black sheep of the five siblings – brown hair and brownish-greenish eyes. I started out a blonde baby, but went dark as soon as my baby-hair went. Still, sometimes people see the resemblance straight away. We sound alike. When she’s around, my voice takes back our childhood accents and intonations. I speak more excitedly, and I acquire a new vocal range. People notice.

She’s the animated one, the one who befriends old ladies and children. I’m the watcher, but we’re two peas in a pod. We share memories in a deep and strange way. The neural pathways linking something to an old, old memory were formed the same ways in us, so we can see one thing and be reminded of something else entirely. Like… The clock on top of the RDS… well, it means Joni Mitchell, so you think of a song, but not just any old song… it will be Green, and we’ll start humming it, and people will look and wonder what on earth made them both start in on the same song at the same time. Oh, I can’t really think of more examples, but we have a sharing that we recognize. Likes and wants, and fitting together born of all the years of being “us”. Me and A. A and me. Sometimes we buy the same clothes – in different shops, in different towns. Sometimes we do sing the same songs. We like the same books. I can pick out almost anything for her, and she for me, and know the other’s taste.

She knows my heart. I know her heart. We’re two peas. Or we’re peas and carrots. We’re sisters and we’re best pals. We have a beloved older sister. We have two younger brothers. But me and A, A and me, we’re a pair.

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I've posted only briefly over the past week because A was visiting, and time with her was better spent with her. I've hardly left a comment for anyone, though I've been scanning the blogs and catching as quickly as I could Poetry Thursday stuff. I missed out on most of the Sunday Scribbles last week, but will have a double helping this weekend, just as soon as I've posted this. Summer doesn't lend itself as well to blogging, though, does it? I've got a lot of bedding plants out in the backyard, waiting to find pots just as soon as these rainshowers have passed over, and if tomorrow is fine, I think the beach will be calling. And then there's The Secret Life of Bees, and a stack of more new books. Now that I'm not studying, I can read without guilt, and feel inclined to. But first... let's see what other peas look like... over at Sunday Scribblings