Because I have been a negligent blogger and have recently discovered that I have missed out on the birthday ode trend here and here, I feel I must make up for my lack and pay tribute to those who came into this world in the month of June.
Shirsti is a human. But she didn't used to be.
She used to be a cat.
Perhaps the most wonderful thing about growing up with Shirsti is that she has the most enormous imagination I have ever beheld. Anything she imagines- any story she tells, any character she makes up- is real. When we were little I spent days with Shirsti as a Flying Lemur attempting to escape the notorious Billy Bob. On others we were geese flying to Canada and narrowly escaping resounding gunshots. In the fall she would make Koseli and me close our eyes as she took us through the Haunted Wood, a figment of all our imaginations that was simply terrifying.
Shirsti is my fellow comrade in loving all things fluffy and soft. When we were younger, Shirsti made up the most fantastic stories about our cat, Sam. According to Shirsti, Sam wasn't just any ordinary cat. She had a boyfriend (an imaginary guitar-playing Tomcat with a Spanish accent named Lufer, who was really just the August picture on one of my many cat calendars), a multitude of diseases (stinky eye, crisp ear, flat twazz) and the most ridiculous voice you've ever heard. Yes, she gave our cat a voice, and now whenever I think of Sam I think of her in that completely, utterly ridiculous and hilarious voice.
Shirsti astonishes everyone she meets. She's gorgeous, and seems rather intimidating. And then you talk to her and realize she's incredibly nice. And then you get to know her, possibly see her dance and realize she's crazy-- but only in the best way possible.
So here's to Shirsti and Koseli. I can't imagine better sisters than you.