My Little Sister

My little sister is one very cool chick.

She works a couple of shifts as a RN in a Hospice and is an office chick the rest of the time. She raises my wicked hilarious nieces, Georgia and Katie, and looks after her husband, Tim. She does things like adopting the cat that belonged to the niece who moved to Moscow to nanny, and she looks out for my daughter; she organises when things need to be organised and generally saves people like me when 'life' threatens to overwhelm and I have no place to live because I accidently moved overseas. (And she will hate reading this with a passion however, it's all true). She's one of those people who just keep on keeping on and has to be sent home with Pneumonia when she's too busy to wonder why she's feeling so impossibly bad.

My little sister ran her first triathlon last Sunday and came in with a time of 1 hour and 4 minutes. She swam in Otago Harbour - something we were always sure we would never do, she ran and she biked, despite rain and a 5.30am wake-up call.

I'm so proud of her that surely she'll feel it and forgive me for blogging her ...