Never were there such devoted sisters...

Still PM's sister. I've just had a long conversation with Potski Mummy for the first time since she moved. Her mobile has decided to stop sending texts, but they now have a house and a landline, although not much else until the IKEA delivery arrives. I'll let her tell you all of her news when she updates - she's hoping to be back on line by the beginning of next week.

Anyway, she's asked to me add another post in the meantime to keep things ticking over until she's back.

I can't believe how much I miss my sister. We've lived in different parts of the country for almost ten years now, so don't see each other too often. But I didn't realise that we've always spoken almost every day and I now miss that contact.

PM is experiencing a very different life to me. In fact, we've led quite different lives since we both left home. I find myself thinking - we had the same parents, went to the same schools, were brought up with the same values, but have ended up in very different places.

PM has generally got things right in life. She's always worked hard - for her degree, her successful career, her friendships, her marriage and at being an excellent mother. I think that her secret to a successful adult life is that she's always stayed true to her personal values.

The things I respect most about my sister:

• She has never let a man make a fool of her. If he has, she's made sure that she's not been around to let him do it again.
• She makes the best fruitcake in the world. Fact.
• She is patient with life and doesn't rush around trying to fix things - she thinks the problem through and so comes up with the best solution.
• She buys me slippers every Christmas.
• She is the best mother I know, and as a result has two intelligent, charming and kind boys who will grow up to be excellent young men.
• She falls up the stairs, but does it gracefully, as if it was meant to happen.

We're sisters but look different, live differently and have different tastes in everything from men to food. She's never coloured her hair in her life, I'm known to close friends as Miss L'Oreal. She goes to the gym, I go to the couch. You get the picture.

But, like me, she needs the toilet as soon as she walks into a library. Genes will out, after all.

P.S. As I check this post, I realise that it reads like a eulogy. Don't worry, PM isn't dead, she's just in Moscow.