  The reunion is over, but I'll stay on the farm for another week. Catherine is here until Tuesday and I'll drive back up to Edmonton on Saturday with my mother. Tommorrow, Catherine and I are going yarn shopping in Olds and you know what.. I don't think it gets much better than that. Shopping for yarn in Olds with your older sister. If I could only knit her some common sense.
Today, she came into the bedroom. I was reading and resting. She asked me how I felt. Jill? Yes? Can I ask you something?
What? How do you feel right now? Fine. Why? You don't feel funny? (She's holding her tummy and I start thinking about those pork sausages I saw her scarfing down) No.
What's the matter? (She lies down on the bed opposite me, pushing all my clothes out of the way. She looks worried and sickly. ) I feel all funny. My tummy hurts and I have ringing in my ears and I feel all dizzy. What do you think is the matter?
(As though I would know) I don't know..maybe it was something you ate. (Hullo. Pork Sausages. ) A moment later she says Frig. Catherine can't swear ever for some reason. I sometimes imagine her getting really mad.. Frig you!
Frig off! Jesus Frigging Christ! For Frig's sake! Its dawned on her all of a sudden she hasn't taken the anti-depressant medication she takes to stop chewing her fingernails for 3 days. I assure her that's probably the culprit to her aches and pains. She gets up and leaves the room.
I follow a moment later and find her in the next room on the phone with our mother long distance confirming her suspicions. My confirmation obviously wasn't good enough. See what I mean? Then I get on the phone with Mom and ask her if she's ever wondered what is wrong with her children. I mean we're both on anti-depressants. Catherine is overly concerned with her physical state to the point of neurosis and I am overly concerned with my emotional state to the point of mania and did Mom have any thoughts on this.
Well, the day after our blessed family reunion, my mother admits she has felt all along that a terrible mistake happened twice. She was given the wrong babies. Her real children were out there somewhere leading non dramatic lives of a milk toast existence, calmly carrying on. I mean, she says, neither of you look like me. Isn't that nice? Thanks Mom. 
