Bunny and the commandments

I suppose I should write something about the Easter weekend. I don’t want to, except to say my house has a faint aroma of chocolate and two, real, honest-togoodness Easter Bunnies left sweet little treats on my front porch on Sunday morning. I believe in the Easter Bunny. I mean bunnies.

Oh, what the heck, I’ll say something about the Easter weekend. I’ll start by saying prior to any holiday I buy a half dozen or so lifestyle magazines to inspire my inner holiday diva. I’ll never get the hang of Pysanky, even though one of my college art instructors spent an entire class showing us the fine art of egg decorating, Ukrainian style. At the end of the two hour class I had crafted a Gary Larsonesque egg only a Gary Larson character could love. After class I drove home, my hands cramped and covered in black egg dye with wax under my finger nails, only to realize I’d plopped my sketch pad and handbag on top of my precious egg, effectively covering the passenger seat of the Rolls-can-hardly with waxy egg shells.

Over the years, I’ve dreamed of the perfect holiday, whereby my living room, dining room and kitchen look as if Martha herself had dropped by to lend a hand and orchestrate the placement of each decoration. A whimsical wicker basket of handcrafted porcelain eggs would laze on the coffee table while the dining room table would be replete with an arrangement of perfect spring flowers (from Martha’s greenhouse), looking ever so casual in a delicate vase turned and fired by my hand in Martha’s workshop. Oh, the magazine-induced dreams I have of holidays and family gatherings. When the kids were young, LOML and I would hide chocolate eggs around the house, many times forgetting to make sure the same number hidden was gleefully found. Melted Easter chocolate found on a windowsill on the twenty-fourth of May weekend isn’t edible, I’ll have you know. Don’t even think about trying it.

So, this Easter holiday a couple of our kids came home for the weekend, bringing a couple friends along just to keep me on my toes. Is there enough food? Are there enough chocolate treats? What about wine? Should I have bought beer? Maybe cider would have been better. Who’s going to sleep where and with whom? What about towels? How will we keep track of the towels? And a shower schedule, should there be a shower schedule? What if one of the kids’ guests has an intense dislike for turkey? Worse, what if one of them is a vegetarian? I can always find a burger or steak in the freezer for the turkey haters, but it’s hard to find a good cut of tofu in my kitchen. As usual, I had to remind myself to not spend too much time worrying about these things when I should just pour myself a glass of something cold and local and enjoy the company of my family and their friends. And so I did. This weekend, we ate turkey, found chocolate treats on the porch and around the living room. We watched the Ten Commandments, occasionally turning the sound down to provide our own dialogue, and we introduced “the friends” to our Ten Commandments game. The rules of the Ten Commandments game involves the number of times the word “bondage” is spoken in the movie and, well, never mind. It’s a game you have to play to appreciate. Writing about it doesn’t do it justice. I never win the Ten Commandments game, but now there are two more people who will look at Easter weekend in a whole new light.

As for the rest of the time spent with my family and their friends, it was all good.We walked and talked. Our kids took their friends out to Little Bluff, The Point and Sandbanks.We aren’t an observant family, but we enjoyed being a family and that’s gotta be a good thing, right? And if you thought the PEC streets were busy this weekend in the County, well, summer’s coming and a couple of our new friends have promised to come back then. I hope they bring beer.

thersa@wellingtontimes.ca