in between the colored eggs and chocolate.

one year, easter looked like this:

i probably made those ears with my very own 5-year old hands.

[and my mom probably has them stashed away in some closet or rubbermaid bin, holding on to them for the day when she decides to scrapbook my life. which she won’t likely ever actually do, despite the fact that she insists she will.]

most years it looked like this:

excerpted from an earlier post:

my grandfather used to own this farm in rural north carolina where he had horses and the likes and wore blue jeans and cowboy boots and taught my dad and his brothers how to shoot guns and drink wild turkey.

i don’t know exactly how long he owned the farm, but it was a long time. and it fueled some of the greatest childhood memories a kiddo could hope for. every easter, my dad and uncles would go to the piggly wiggly and buy a whole flock of baby chickens and bring them back to us in a big brown box. i can recount hours spent standing on my tip toes hovered over the box watching the baby chickens. waiting for them to do something.

for the life of me, i have no idea what we ever did with the baby chickens after easter was over.

we sure as hell didn’t take them home and raise them. i can promise you that.

 

this year, easter looks exactly like this:

courtesy of my non-scrapbooking mom and stepdad who probably have a hunch that i’d very much like to be with the family today, sitting by my grandmother’s backyard koi pond while she wows the masses with yet another perfect feast made up of ingredients that she ripped from her garden and turned into something which would have martha stewart stammering in green envy.

so whether you are wearing construction paper ears on your head, staring at a box full of chickens, or taking time to smell the flowers, may your easter be full of family (even if they are far away), friends, koi ponds, and prayer.

don’t forget the prayer part.

it’s the most important of all the easter things . . .