I have two sisters. Harriet is 16 and Leila is 22. They both have exotic unusual names while I got stuck with Emily. How this happened is not something I wish to dwell on, but it upsets me greatly to this day.
Harriet is a budding astronomer. Or an astrophysicist. When she says she wants to study astrophysics, people’s jaws literally drop. Either they always thought she was stupid, or they, like me, don’t really know what astrophysics means, and thinks it’s in the same league as the ubiquitous ‘rocket science’ and ‘brain surgery.’ I’ll be entirely honest: I still don’t know what it means. What I do know is that Harriet would really like to study it, and that she really likes stars and things like that. She has her own telescope, and she will go out at night and watch the stars through her telescope. At the age of sixteen. I’m so proud of her. At the age of sixteen I would go out at night and go to the pub and drink copious amounts with my friends. Perhaps I have served her well as an example of what not to do. For Christmas I bought her a necklace with a working telescope on it. I think this makes me the best sister ever.
Leila might disagree with this statement. She graduated from her adult nursing degree last year, and more or less walked straight into a job, then set up home with her fella. I fear she has set a precedent for what is expected from the Blackburn girls upon graduation. I only hope she comes to visit me when I’m living in a box. For Christmas I bought her a room scent kit. This possibly does not make me the best sister ever. She is freakishly tall. I think she’s about 6’2”. I could be wrong. I’m 5’11” and she’s taller than me. When she was younger she had back problems because she stooped over so much because of her height and had to go to a chiropractor. Her boyfriend is shorter than her, and even though they’ve been together for over two years now, I still giggle sometimes when I see them standing together.