Easter Bunny

Today

It's Easter day today. Actually the earliest date it can be - 23rd March. So, of course, it's been snowing.

Having already discovered, as part of retirement, that weekends have less importance, we now find that Easter has also slid into insignificance. We're not religious and we have no little ones to give Easter Eggs to. And as we're no longer working we don't feel the need to take advantage of the long break.

"Should we send Easter cards?" enquired my spouse. "If you like", I replied "who to?" He could only come up with a couple of names and it didn't seem worth the bother.

Lizzie is working this weekend and Becky decided that she would like to pop down to Brighton with a friend. So no company.

To make it worse, Paul & I have been experimenting with the lemon detox diet and aren't really allowed to eat anything more than soup or the detox concoction.

So a non-event really

In My Day

Like most festivals in my childhood, Easter was celebrated along formulaic lines. The only variable was the date, and therefore, the weather.

On Easter day Mamma & Daddy would have hidden eggs all over the house. There was no concept of being given personal eggs. These eggs ranged from tiny foil-wrapped chocolate eggs to large hollow ones which were often broken by the time you found them. Our house was large with high ceilings (this often seemed to give an unfair advantage to my already advantaged brothers because they were tall enough to peer into light fittings etc). If the weather was good the eggs might be hidden in the garden.

Before the day Mamma would have spent some time hard-boiling eggs and putting sheets of German egg dye into water. The eggs came out with blue, green and pink shells. She would also boil some with onion skin to give a deep golden sheen. When the eggs were done she'd rub lard on the shells to make then shine. If the shells had cracked during the boiling process there'd be a delicate coloured veining across the white. I found that especially delightful.

"Go!" was shouted and we were allowed to search for the eggs. It always seemed that the boys found more than me or my sister but it didn't much matter as they were always fairly shared out. Mamma & Daddy always knew exactly how many eggs they'd bought and it was a rare Easter when we found them all. Stray eggs would turn up over the coming months - popping out from under cushions or rolling off books on the shelves.

The chocolate the eggs were made of was always a bit of a disappointment and, to tell the truth, I preferred the hard-boiled ones and could make quite a pig of myself on them.

Ah well, on the detox diet I'm not even allowed a boiled egg!