December 20, 2014 Advent with SusieJ

Mary

My sister Mary is the best thing I inherited from our dad.

I've been told we fought when we were young, but neither of us can remember it. I do remember getting in trouble or being frustrated and sobbing, "I want my Mary!" We didn't live together; she was in West Chester (Pennsylvania horse country), while I was in Warminster (uh, we had a Naval Air Development Center).

When I was about 11 or 12, there were two television shows in America that focussed on stories of everyday Americans: Real People and That's Incredible. Each show was the hometown hero segment of the local news, broadcast to the nation for an hour each week. It was pretty inspiring to a seventh-grader. So inspiring, that I started typing a letter to the stations about my sister and mother.

Mary would have been about 20 years old then. She had dropped out of college and started her own horse breeding business, which she ran on a break-even basis for two or three years before selling to her partner. As part of the business, she owned five horses, rented a stable, boarded horses, bred them, gave lessons, and (at least once) hosted her own competition. (I remember drilling holes to build jump fences.) She had ridden for years, bought her first horse at 12 with baby-sitting money (the horse lived in the back yard). She was a winning dressage competitor, riding and winning even at Devon.

Because we lived with different mothers on opposite sides of Philadelphia, we saw each other mostly at Dad's when he had visitation weekends with me. Dad would pick me up and drive to the Poconos Friday night. Mary would arrive early the next morning, usually while I was still asleep. The door would be flung open and this body would jump onto the bed shouting "Wake up!" Sometimes, Mary would pick me up at Mom's and drive me up herself, in the used Bronco she'd bought to haul horses. When she was 17, she cooked her first full Thanksgiving meal at Dad's, pretty much because Dad felt cooking was a woman's job.

Weekends at Dad's exploded with fun when Mary was there. She has boundless energy and enthusiasm and a gung-ho attitude. "Let's give it a try!" If it's not fun she will make it fun. Photocopying something awful at work? She jokes about sniffing the toner fumes with her colleagues. Long drives? Chinese fire drill at the stop light! Freezing cold weather? "Let's warm you up!" she shouts and grabs you in a bear hug. Holiday dinner or party? Add a lasagne to the list of entrees!

After selling the business, she worked as a medical secretary, then for Vanguard (that Vanguard), where she worked her way up to trading. She married, had a child, finished her BA, started her MBA, moved away, had another child, moved back, finished her MBA, and has been a bond trader ever since. She's occasionally quoted in Bloomberg (that Bloomberg). I tell her we both like math — mine is theoretical, hers is practical. For Christmas, I give both of us a subscription to the Economist. She was invaluable after Mom died, helping me empty the apartment.

[Copyright Susan J. Talbutt, all rights reserved.]Mary photographing me at Christmas. I love this photo; she's already so sophisticated.

The recipe: Hazelnut meringues

Gluten and dairy free! Also delicious. Very, very delicious.

The craft: Pine cone elves

The original link is selling them, but if you have the pine cones, felt, wooden beads, and a glue gun, you should be able to replicate them.