Within the long list of childhood joys that become more and more disappointing as you creep toward adulthood, Easter Sunday rests somewhere near the top. Now, it doesn't help that I'm an atheist so the "real meaning" of the holiday is lost on me anyway; but I remember being so excited about Easter that I could squeal. The egg hunt...the candy...the food...the dress...the HAT. Yes. I had an Easter hat. I loved it. It was white with ribbon on it. Original, I know.Nowadays my family still gets together for an Easter Feast. My mother still gives us kids Easter baskets only instead of candy they have things like scratch-its and salon gift certificates (thank you, Mum). But the family get togethers feel pretty pointless. 1/3 of the fam. is religious and 2/3 of us don't even want to talk about it. So it's yet another excuse to gorge ourselves on good food and watch golf. Or try to avoid watching golf. But there is no unifying reason to be getting together. So it just kind of feels empty.
But this year we had Disco Egg decorating and there will be pictures of that when I figure out where the hell I put my camera.
I guess my point is...like Halloween, Easter is one of those holidays that you have to make work for you as an adult. I mean...everything is fucking CLOSED so you can't even go shopping for things you don't NEED. So things like drinking London Fizzes while Elmers gluing muffin cup skirts on your salmon-colored eggs are as essential as costume parties...you know?
In completely unrelated news...here's some pictures from Hood River, Oregon! Yay small town with NO candy stores!
We wanted to go in...but we were on a mission. Not that kind...a candy store mission.
Nothing about the name of this store makes me want to shop there.
Ahh Hood River...a quaint little hamlet. Can't throw a rock without hitting a goddamn Subaru...but when you want a candy store...NOTHIN'!
Look at this view of mountains and shit. That particular mountain is in Washington. But I'm standing in Oregon. Does that blow your mind or WHAT?
"Sometimes...the only thing better than being at the top of a waterfall...is being at the bottom of one."- Some Intellectual Asshole
This is the fairyland we passed on the way home. All the wood sprites ran away because they were scared of the loud car engine. We thought a little blaring Grateful Dead would flush them out, but no. I guess that only works in cult stand-offs.
We stopped at Edgefield and paid homage to one of Kansas' idols. Yes. This is supposed to be a statue of Jerry Garcia. I can't tell either.Personally, I can't really stand the Grateful Dead and couldn't give two hoots about Jerry Garcia. What I'm paying homage to here is Cherry Garcia. Thank you, Ben and Jerry's.
Tomorrow...Disco Eggs!
11 keep(s) me blogging:
I hear ya.. we're now down to just celebrating St. Swithin's Day. Concoct something out of, go outside (it HAS to be raining) and chant:
"St. Swithin's day if thou dost rain
For forty days it will remain
St. Swithin's day if thou be fair
For forty days 'twill rain nae mair."
Don't knock it if you haven't tried it.
Gin.. concoct something out of Gin (sorry)
You need bigger eggs to make Easter work. Ostrich eggs painted with the face of Jean-Luc Picard. Huge eggs that you can sit on. There's also something called a cream egg that Sam might tell you about.
How can you have a small town and no candy store? The horror!
um, did you come to ireland to take that fairyland photo because if you did and didn't come find me, i'm very upset.
i swear i have the same photo from the wicklow mountains.... weird.
apterix - i don't intend to knock it. i intend to try it. see how persuasive i am?
goranas - i'm fairly certain you'll approve of what we managed with the regular-sized ones. i'm posting those pictures tomorrow.
orhan - that's JUST what i said. and then i stamped my foot and pouted til someone got me ice cream. well, chinese food, really.
macoosh - nope, this is in oregon. for reals. oregon looks like ireland with more mountains.
and if you REALLY want me to do a blog-sit for you...i'm maybe good for one post. email me or some junk.
I wonder if you'll feel differently if you ever step into parent mode?
Uh huh, sure, rant about Easter...avoid the REAL issue at hand, that issue being the breakage of a particular New Years Resolution that went on this past weekend. Oh you KNOW what I'm talking about Sistah, and I ain't gonna let it slide, neither. Unless you let me wear them. Then maybe.
Your eggs are awfully cute (I got a sneak peek, suckahs!). Wish I coulda made the decorating fest. At least we'll be there for poker night on Saturday (yay for goats, cows, hookers and babies!). (You'd have to be there to understand.)
P.S. Alas, the Future, I wouldn't bet on it.
Disco eggs, ooh yeah. I hope they are as exciting as they sound. I hope flares and enormous afros feature.
Cream eggs are laid by cows, shortly before the proper milk comes out. By my reckoning it is now tomorrow but there is nary a disco egg to be seen.
What's a London fizz? I have a feeling I should know this. Is it the same as a gin fizz? I know a lot about them.
FUCK! that guy likes the Grateful Dead?!?!?!
Get out! Get out NOW! I know you think it's pretty great and everything, but this can only go downhill from here. Soon he'll feel comfortable enough with you to bring out the 4 foot bong and the patchwork pants. You'll meet the other members of his drum circle and before you know it you'll be waiving your unshaven armpit hair and patchoulli stink hither and thither at a Phish concert in the middle of the fucking desert!
...the humanity.
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