Easter Eve

s-and-me-and-c_0411091This morning a childhood friend I haven’t seen in a very long time visited with her family. Here we are together. She has three very strapping boys and a tall, tall husband. They said they are considering a move to the area. It would be nice to see her more often. Sadly, it was a quick stop-in on the way out of town. If I were less lame about returning phone calls promptly, it could have been a more leisurely visit. But alas. I am lame about that.

On to the imminent holiday! Last year at Easter we were on the road, in a hotel. So the Easter festivities were very minor and involved simply hiding a few candy-filled eggs around the hotel room. So this year Brad and I are faced with the prospect of establishing Easter tradition. H and I dyed a dozen eggs on Friday (which was quite fun!), so we’re ready on that count. There’s a basket from a couple of years ago, before H really remembers things like this much, that has been dug out. And a bit of Easter candy was purchased last week. Now what?

My mom mentioned to me recently that her parents were big on the Easter Bunny. Apparently, they stayed up late on Easter Eve decorating eggs and hiding them. I’m unclear on what my father’s family tradition was, but it was, according to my mom, not too involved. So they created a hybrid. As I grew up, we kids dyed the eggs ourselves the day before Easter. We put out Easter baskets and they were filled with candy in the morning. My parents did not hide eggs (at least not during the years I can remember). We children hid eggs for each other. In fact, my older brother meticulously selected and hid “The Elite Dozen” for a few years for me and my younger brother to find. We never found all twelve.

Brad’s parents hid his entire Easter basket. He doesn’t remember much (this is typical. But! He can recite poetry off the top of his head. So all is forgiven.)

So.

How will our hybrid celebration look? No church services (it’s the unmentioned parts of all the above family observances). We’ve got the goods, just no delivery protocol.

H unintentionally instigated a tradition tonight of leaving carrots out for the Easter Bunny. Makes sense, seeing as he leaves cookies for Santa. Tonight at bedtime I made a point of telling H I don’t know much about the Easter Bunny and find him sort of unpredictable. That affords a little wiggle room, right? H then announced that the Easter Bunny is from England (wuh?). I can dig that. Kind of makes me wish I’d gotten a Cadbury bunny instead of Palmer, though. Just for my own sense of consistency.

I have no further answers yet. Details tomorrow, I suppose.

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About sayingthings

K lives in the US with her man and kiddos, knits, cans, dehydrates, bakes bread, (but doesn't cook regular food, particularly), crochets, spins, gardens, studies for a degree that never seems to end, and um, works. Sometimes she wastes time online. Also -- and family, she's looking at you here -- sometimes she swears and says things you might not agree with. But she still loves you.

Posted on April 12, 2009, in Fambly, Friends. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. As the younger bro that had trouble finding the Elite Dozen (or was it Elite Eight? Dozen makes more sense for eggs, I guess) I wanted to also include the detail that the eggs were dyed with the purpose of hiding them in certain environments. As in camouflage: one to blend with the rusty swing-set, one just like the grass, one like sticks, one like the silver-aluminum canoe. I remember swinging on the swing-set, and then moving the whole thing violently because I was swinging at a very energetic state, and then I smelled rotten eggs (b/c I had somehow broken one from Easter).

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