Big Sis is back!


Well, she was for an hour and a half yesterday. It's what I call a flying visit. Mainly because she was on her way to an airfield.

But just look at that little face. Have you ever seen such excitement? No one's ever been that pleased to see me and Lisa. She's having the time of her life. That's the advantage of short visits - if she'd stayed with us for more than a couple of hours, she'd have ended up looking like Amelie. Mind you, the two of them have a lot in common. For a start they're both incapable of standing up straight in a photo.

Anyhoo, Big Sis popped in yesterday afternoon en route from my parents' to Hemel Hempstead, where she had a date with the heir to the Pooley fortune. No, I've never heard of them either. But apparently Mr Pooley Snr is to aviation what Donald Trump is to toupés, and anyone wanting to fly high in the world of piloting needs to get in with his nephew. I wonder if this is him..?

Anyway, Sis's visits are always entertaining. She arrives like the Tasmanian Devil in a whirlwind of dust, unleashes a torrent of stories about her latest adventures (most of which I can't repeat here for legal reasons), then puts on her make-up and leaves before you have time to reply. But I thought she looked well. She's discarded the head bandage she was sporting last time I saw her, so she now looks less like The Mummy, and more like Scarface. Either way she has the looks of a film star.

There's a chance I could be seeing Sis again in a couple of weeks, because she's invited me to take to the skies with her in the vehicle on the right. It's a twin-engine aircraft, so when one engine fails at 9,000 feet, we'd still have a fighting chance of making it home alive. At least that's what she claims. I've said a cautious yes, on the grounds that if you're going to die young, you might as well do it at high speed, holding hands with your sister.

Anyway, she claims it'll all be plane sailing. So I think she's planning to land in the Hudson River. I'm taking my swimming trunks.