The pros and cons of having a sister

So it turns out that my Aunt - Ivy in Eastbourne - was spot on when it comes to the gossip from Glastonbury Rock concert, though i never expected to say that.

Thinking back though, she was always a groovy chick - it was her who had the first record player in our family and it was at her house that i first heard Lonnie Donegan - at a time when he was still hip and it was her who procured a signed programme from the Beatles appearance on the Royal Variety Show.

So i'll forgive her for not knowing who Blurr are.

Her neice, my sister - who works for local government -sent me an e-mail as soon as she was back at her desk this morning to confirm that Bruce was fined 3 Grand for not being in bed at midnight, or rather the farmer that owns the site and organizes the event was fined.

And since my sister was present at Glastonbury this year AND encouraged Bruce to keep playing i am inclined to believe the weight of evidence presented.

But my sister is not always so reliable.

When i was about 6 years old, and her about 9 she informed me that Father Christmas did not in fact exist but was in fact my parents. This was patently untrue as neither of them owned Reindeer and i have found out subsequently that he does. So there.

My sister has ALWAYS been a groovy chick, it was her who first tried to teach me to dance to Marvin Gaye's "I heard it Through the Grapevine" when i had been unexpectedly invited to a dance by Gilian Willmott.

However, lying about Father Christmas was not her worse trait. She reserved that for Easter.

My sister holds the unofficial world record for making an Easter Egg last and although i think she did this to deliberately annoy me i was very impressed by her resitance to chocolate.I tried to develop the art of removing a piece tiny enough that she wouldn't notice, but large enough to componsate my craving.

Her age advantage had other benefits - when i made an error of judgement and leapt across a small stream that my parents had strictly forbid me from doing, it was my sister who encouraged me to pretend to be crying so that their anger would disolve into sympathy.

However, this must always be balanced against the day, my birthday, when she ate my favourite biscuit - the one with the sugar icing trumpet that i had been saving for the party.

But that swimming costume in the photo is suffient revenge.