Posts tagged as:

holidays

Like My Daddy

by Anastasia on June 12, 2011

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FATHERS DON’T GET TOO much play here on The Sister Project. But I figured if there ever was a way to celebrate great dads, it should be with the lovely Loretta Lynn, who — let’s face it — is a bastion of womanly wisdom (and a famous daughter to boot). So happy father’s day to all the daughter-raising daddies out there, especially mine.

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Sisterly Gift Guide: The Sister-Friend

by Anastasia on December 2, 2010

WE’VE TALKED GIFTS before on The Sister Project. (Here’s a great post from Marion on the subject.) But this winter, I thought I’d do a little gift guide for the many sisters and one big brother in my life. This week: (mostly) handmade goods under $40 for your adorable sister-friend! [click to continue…]

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Giving Thanks

by Anastasia on November 25, 2010

I‘M SO VERY GRATEFUL TODAY to have such a fantastic community here on The Sister Project. Merci for reading! It means so much to me. And now a few things I suggest doing on this Thanksgiving day: [click to continue…]

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Mama

by Anastasia on May 9, 2010

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY! Here’s a picture of my mother when she was my age. Isn’t her 1970s style amazing? (She rocks the center part and aviators so well.) I love you, Mama! What are you doing with your mom to celebrate?

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The Thanksgiving That Wasn’t

by margaretroach on November 26, 2008

This is like one of those HIGHLIGHTS double images, where you have to find what's missing in the image on the right.

This is like one of those HIGHLIGHTS Magazine double images, where you have to find what's missing in the image on the right. Tricky, I know.

FRESHMAN YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL is a particularly awkward moment (a timeless characterization, I fear.) I remember spending that time listening to Brandy and Monica on a loop, and putting an inflatable plastic chair in my bedroom. And it seemed as though every time I turned my back to the mirror, a few dozen new pimples appeared any number of places.

As if I wasn’t clumsy enough in my skin, my brother T left for college the September after I turned 14. Our house became strangely quiet. I no longer could saunter downstairs to our finished basement and offer to make sandwiches for T’s stoned friends, or eavesdrop on his phone conversations to hear about the who-drank-what last weekend and the where-will-we-go this weekend. [click to continue…]

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