The Dynamic Duo

Just what is the date today….........lets see…....April 17. Wait, did I say APRIL? Then why is there snow covering the ground?!!! What is wrong with the weather around here? It is supposed to be Spring!
The robins know it. The daffodils are in full bloom, spreading their sunny, yellow contagious joy. The tulips are just starting to open their petals, showing a hint of the color they will become. I am about halfway through digging the weeds out of my garden spot, and yesterday I planted rows of seeds indoors in a mini-greenhouse full of little peat pots. UltraDad had to mow the lawn last week, and I dug my bike out of the shed and took Murphy for a spin around town. So, it was quite a shock to look out my window this morning to find several inches of the white stuff already on the ground and more falling from the sky in huge, wet flakes. I think the flowers were even more shocked; the daffodils were bent to the ground by the weight of the snow, while the tulips, being shorter and stouter of stem were merely sporting jaunty little cold, white caps.
I should have known better than to get my hopes up about Spring and warmth and sunshine, yesterday being Easter and all. Eastertime is a notoriously bad-weather time, at least in my adult-Idaho experience. Easter egg hunts at our house were rarely held outdoors. Not only was it usually bitterly cold, but sometimes the dogs, cats, etc. would find the eggs before the kids did, as they had rather short attention spans and were apt to give up quickly if the eggs were not in plain sight (the kids, not the critters.)
Easter seemed a little odd and anti-climatic for me this year, not having any of the kids around. Why I remember a time…....................
A day or two before the big day, we would have an egg-coloring afternoon. Usually I would buy one of those Paas egg-kits containing the dye tablets (just add water and vinegar), a wire egg-dipper, stickers, cardboard cut-outs, and, coolest of all, a wax crayon. Anything you wrote on the egg with the wax crayon would remain white after the egg was dyed. It seemed very magical, especially when I was a kid. I mean, the writing would barely show up on the white egg, but afterwards the words, “Kathy’s egg” would gleam white and bright against the dark rose-dyed hue of the colored egg. Easter baskets were usually empty margarine tubs lined with that fake green paper “Easter grass” that tended to multiply and scatter about the house as prolifically as Christmas tree tinsel. Peeps were a traditional, though not very tasty, addition to the basket. Also included were jelly beans, bunny-shaped sweet tarts, and foil wrapped chocolate eggs. As Easter-Bunny Mom, I usually included jars of bubbles, a pinwheel, and perhaps some summer-time outdoor toys like kites, balls or frisbees. Sometimes when the kids went to bed, cake layers would be cooling on the table. When they woke up the next morning, the Easter Bunny would have come, not only bearing gifts, but also having turned those plain cake layers into a bunny-shaped cake complete with frosting. He would also have hidden colored easter eggs all over the house. UltraDad always threatened to shoot that rabbit if he didn’t stop wreaking such havoc!
We had to get up early so we could go to the Easter Breakfast at church. This was an annual event ostenibly put on by the teens, though they required much adult help. All of my kids helped with this throughout their teenage years, and I especially loved getting waited on by one of them (for a change.) The menu was sour-dough pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, and coffee or juice.
Then we would usually run home to change clothes, putting on Easter best for church. I loved sitting in church with my kids singing the familiar Easter songs: “He Lives”, “Allelujah, Christ Arose”. The sermon would also be a familiar one about our Savior’s death on the cross to pay the penalty for our sins; his resurrection and promises to all who believe in Him.
Home again, there might be a big, family dinner of turkey or ham, afterwhich we might trudge out into the blustery wind to try out the kites and pinwheels. The kids would be full of energy, to put it nicely, after consuming large quanities of candy, except, perhaps for Jim. He was a bit of a hoarder, and I tended to find his Easter and Halloween candy stashed away in drawers or under his bed several months (or sometimes years) later.
This year I attended a different church, alone, and fellowshipped with people I am only beginning to learn about. But the Easter Hymns and message are universal. UltraDad and I went over to sister-in-law Pat’s house for a very nice dinner, and a little cribbage . Murphy didn’t have an Easter basket, but he did get some scraps from the Easter chicken.

UltraDad and I are both healthy (for the moment), and we have a nice house in which to come in out of the rain (or snow). Not Easter like I’m used to, but not entirely without its charms.
And no, Jim, just because it was Easter does NOT mean it is Heather’s birthday.

UltraMom

Poor Flowers

Brave Polly