Carol Anne Hartman Photography

I have a sister. She is three years younger than me (although I thoroughly enjoy asking strangers who they think is older because they usually pick her — hee hee).

I have managed to spend more time with her so far this summer than in a very long time. You see, she is one of the most awesome CPAs ever. EVER. Seriously. My sister is meticulous, fair and brilliant. Which means she works like a mad woman. All the freakin’ time.

I had two opportunities to spend the night at her house in June and just have some good sister time. Much need. We are so different, but we both love to eat too many crab legs and drink sparkling wine. That is an excellent place to start. The first trip, I conveniently had my camera with me. She looks just like my mom:

Oh, and she hates to have her picture taken. She says her nose it too big. Problem solved:

Almost 10 years ago (geez, that makes me sound old — OK forget you just read that). A few years ago, I wrote a song about our relationship. I have sung it (in public, even) quite a bit over the last year and each time I explain it a little. But I have never had the chance to just spell it all out. So, to make a long post even longer I give you, Purple Monkeys (If you wanna hear it, there is a live version here):

I climbed a tree, and left behind my lifelong stowaway
But saw the tears and came back down to take them all away

I used to hate that she wanted to follow me everywhere and do everything that I wanted to do. My mother told me to was a compliment. That she wanted to be just like me — she wanted to be me, even. When she was too small to follow, I would climb the trees in our back yard to get away from her. I wouldn’t stay long, though. I had to be pretty mad at her to not give in to those crocodile tears.

Dreaming together, you’re up with the sun and it’s off to the races again
In search of our prince we’re building the scene, not knowing when life will begin

My sister was always up at the crack of dawn. No. BEFORE the crack of dawn. I was not. I still am not a morning person, but Vicki. Oh, my. She was up. Early. Always. As we got older we were your run-of-the-mill boy crazy girls. Me more-so that her. But then she became obsessed with weddings. She would get wedding magazines and cut out the dress she wanted, the bridesmaid dresses, her perfect man. She would set them all up like paper dolls and “build the scene”.

When London Bridge came falling down and you lived in self-defeat
Please don’t cry my dear one
Tomorrow will bring peace when you come down
If you come down here with me

This is the chorus. Most of the song is about our lives together as children, so I wanted something child-like in the chorus to represent that. Enter the London Bridge line. Self-defeat? Well, my sister was always the perfect child. Really. She pretty much still is. She used to like to tell on the trouble-maker (that would be me — I wear it with pride), but from time to time she would end up somehow implicating herself when she told on me. Silly girl. So my answer? Just be bad with me and you won’t get yourself in trouble. Really. There is some logic in there somewhere.

Partners in crime, creating ways around the rules created
Devising our plans, acting them out, keeping them both frustrated

Eventually (for a short time) we got along and were partners in crime, looking for ways to get around all of those annoying rules. I think the rest of this lyric is pretty self explanatory. The “them” is our parents.

Engraved in love is a hate that makes the bond between us stronger
Through all the smiles, there will be those days that make our nighttime longer

I was specifically thinking of an ID bracelet when I wrote that line. Remember those bracelets that all of the cool kids had in the 80s. Gold with their names engraved on them? Without the name engraved on it, it was just a gold bracelet with an empty space on it. Likewise, the moments of “hate” (I put it in quotes because it was just a sibling thing. We never really hated each other) in our younger years helped to mold the love into a stronger bond. The second line just refers to that. Even with all of the good, there will be times when there is darkness and headbutting.

When the lights go out leaving only stars and you loosen your grip on the handlebars,
I’ll be the one to make you laugh and hold your little hand

My mother used to tell me that I was the one person that could make my sister laugh anytime in any situation. Especially the scary times when she was feeling the fear of growing up.

And if purple monkeys they come to stay and they try to steal all your things away, I’ll sacrifice myself for you to make them understand

Her favorite color was purple and her nickname was “Monkey”. And I would do anything for her if she needed me. Anything.

A shift in time forever changed the course of history
I became me and you became not me and “we” ceased to be “we”

One day I realized that she was all grown up. She was off at college and she didn’t want to be me anymore. She was happy to just be her. And we weren’t a “we”. I was me and she was her. She became a quite person that didn’t need her big sister to confide in or hold her hand or make her laugh.

Two women together to each her own identity
Go where you will but my sister you’ll always be

I love you baby sister.