Hopelessly Devoted

My gorgeous sister and I resemble our outstanding mother in many ways. From her, we get our poor circulation, our childbearing hips, our singing voices, mild hedonism, and our slightly mocking sense of humor. There are more points of similarity, but why list? (My father, offended by my deprecation (there's that mocking sense of humor) has taken it upon himself to defend our finer attributes, below in the comments, and right he is on every point, of course.) Suffice it to say that where she leads, whe usually follow, and in some (few) things we even surpass. One of those is in our passion for all things fruit, in which we follow not only mother but grandmother (who makes killer compote) and aunts. Taught to pick berries and consume whole pineapples from an early age, washed down with about seven apples a day, we are voracious and unstoppable when there are pomes, achenes, berries, false berries, drupes, or nuts around. To prove this, Liana sent this picture of what she ate one day. And every day.