Lisa my Sweetsa

When we were little, my dad used to call my sister Lisa, "Lisa my Sweetsa." Lisa was feisty, funny, and always did her own thing. And we always had a good time. In this picture we are wearing our glamorous coats, sitting in a big red chair in Grandad & GranNomi's dining room. Ah--those were the days...

I haven't seen Lisa since last summer, although we talk on the phone quite a bit. She came to visit me this past weekend, and things have not changed. She lives in Colorado with a wonderful husband and three adorable, charming children, with one more on the way. She is still feisty, funny, and does her own thing. And I love her dearly. We ran around the Tidal Basin, she fell down the Exorcist staircase in Georgetown, shopped our little legs off, and Kendall took us on a tour of the National Cathedral, Embassy Row, and the monuments. Oh--and we ate. A lot. Lisa is pregnant and was so excited to eat ethnic food. So we had Indian food and African food, and of course chocolate milk and bagels and brownies and ice cream. A couple of times.

And as soon as she sends me pictures, I'll post them. I promise.