Phew! Yay! My sister has gone home. →[More:]My sister has been staying with me for the weekend, accompanied by her two dachshunds, Lily and Roxy. I'm so not a dog person, but even more so when they're yappy, smelly, spoiled creatures.

My poor cats effectively left home for two days, coming in only at night when the dogs were in my bedroom with my sister. This morning Bailey was on top of the garden shed looking daggers at me. Lucy has only just put in an appearance.

The weekend was tolerable. We went to Maldon yesterday. The dogs restricted us to where we could go, and I knew we could walk along the Hythe at Maldon and get something to eat at one of the outdoor cafes.

At home the dogs refuse to walk more than a few yards before they stop, lie there and have to be picked up and carried. But in a new place with different things to see, their legs appeared to work just fine and they walked at least a mile. It was a lovely sunny day and it Maldon is lovely.

I suspect that much of the dogs' behaviour is brought on by my sister. They get treats for whatever they do, be it good or bad, and have no boundaries. So if they yap, they get a treat to make them stop. So they yap again. Another treat. Yap. Treat. Yap. Treat. Finally, yap. Me: SHUT UP! Dogs go quiet.

Last night a friend of mine came over who's a dog person, so there was a respite for me from the constant sister yatter ("Jan, look at Lily, Jan. Jan, Jan, look at Lily, look at her, Jan, Jan.")

Today, at long last, I was able to fix the shed roof because Lesley was able to hold the ladder for me. It was the easiest job imaginable, just nailing sheets of roofing felt over the torn bits, patching it up, but I wouldn't have felt confident doing the job on my own just in case I fell off the ladder.

Then a pub lunch, home to watch the Grand Prix (I can't stand F1 racing but Lesley loves it) and then she headed off home.

As visits go, it was ok. But we have nothing, absolutely nothing in common. The inanity of her conversation staggers me. Here are some of the topics of conversation:

- Boy bands (my sister is 51 and knows the names of all the boy bands, their members, their music, their life stories, and is surprised that I can't even name a boy band, apart from Take That, which puts me about 15 years out of date)

- Hollyoaks (a UK soap opera aimed at teenagers)

- Do I think Jordan is prettier than Kerry Katona?

- Which is my favourite Pussycat Doll? (Lesley was surprised that I couldn't name a single one of them or any of their hits.)

- Spongebob Squarepants. Ad nauseum. Episode synopses, characters, favourite merchandise.

- Pop music (by which I mean the sort of music aimed at girls aged 14 or so). She knows all the latest artists and their music. I last followed the charts about 20 years ago.

- And, of course, the dogs. Every little tiny thing they do. "Look Jan, Roxy's looking at the tree. Now she's looking at Lily. Now she's lying down. Look Jan, Jan, look, look ..."

Not to mention the constant flirting with just about every man that crossed our path, double entendres that made me cringe with embarrassment and that she didn't see as inappropriate in any way at all, even when the poor man on the receiving end was clearly appalled.

I feel really ungracious and whiny when I talk abut my sister, and I wonder how much of it is a legacy from our childhood. She's the pretty one, the confident, social one who loves to party and I've always been the shy, nerdy one with the thick glasses, my nose in a book. I wish I had better social skills, that I didn't have this anxiety about getting out there in the world.

I wouldn't want for one minute to BE my sister - she's the shallowest person I've ever met and when her life hit the buffers recently there was no spiritual core or reserves to draw on. For her, if you can't buy it, it doesn't exist.

I think the difference in us was most apparent this weekend when we were coming back from my aunt's funeral in Manchester. The train journey over the Pennines was absolutely stunning - miles of beautiful scenery, peaks and dales, huge skies, only just over an hour's journey, but she whined the whole time about how bored she was. I was entranced by the view.

Oh well, I'm done with visits to or from her until Christmas. Yay!