A bit more nostalgia...
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Good Morning All;
Mother Natures Aprils Fools joke on us, (around these parts anyway), coming just a wee bit late this year...
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Is there a Ghost of Easters Past?
Because if there is, here we go...
We did not heat our basement; the only heat down there provided by the old wood/coal furnace we had... (and it gave off plenty as it chugged to life)...
But the basement was our cellar- kind of a cool place to store everything... Including our veggies, canned goods, and eggs. The older refrigerators we quite small on the inside, and so many things were simply kept out. Sounds horrendous in this day and age, but everything we had was fresh. Salmonella was quite unheard of, poultry laid fresh eggs, and as long as those eggs were gathered every morning they were fresh as could be! Being one of the few farms back then that produced "Grade A" Milk, we could have no chickens. (Separate barns would have been required for any other farm animal, save the cows). We received all of our eggs from neighbors and family close~by.
One year... I had to be 6 or 7 maybe, Mom had gotten all the preparations ready to color eggs. Of course we had to boil those eggs first... Mama had sent me down to the basement to get the eggs.
There were probably about 6 dozen then that we would use... I got them down off the shelf, and began to come back upstairs, when I tripped on the basement steps.
AND ON THE WAY UP !!!
There were eggs all over!
My life was OVER!
I was not only bruised, but cut a bit, AND terrified of even calling out FOR 'HELP'...
...So I did what any normal kid would do.
I began to cry.
Loudly, AND PROBABLY QUITE OBNOXIOUSLY TOO.
And of course Mom had to come see what the devil had made me cry.
(And ever so LOUDLY too)...
I remember the horrified look on her face as she rounded that corner... The sharp intake of breath just before she simply told me to "get up".
I heard her sigh. (And I remember the swat on my backside as I walked by her after she told me to get cleaned up).
By the time I was cleaned up, she had salvaged a LOT of those eggs.
And that 'trip' wasn't nearly as bad as what I had originally thought it to be...
We had probably about 4 dozen (give or take), left to color. But I think I probably ruined that day for everyone too.
I don't remember the Easter... Just that trip and fall...
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Fast forward a few years...
...to me~n~my girls...
Times were lean, and I usually got "hand~me~overs" from relatives and such for clothes for the girls. My aunts were wonderful about this, and mom would always pick up a few things when she would go to Goodwill or St. Vinnies too.
But one year, I wanted something more special...
I didn't have the money to go to the fabric store, but I sure had leftover fabric. And got busy making the girls their "new" easter outfits. Oh they weren't too "easter~ish", (unless red is now an easter color). But they sure had something new to wear. I used one of their shirts, and a pair of their pants for the pattern... And this is how they turned out!
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Now to fast forward once more...
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Casey was about 6 years old; and for the Grace of God still believed in that same flop~earred rabbit that would come and hide eggs every Easter morning.
We were living on Jaworski Road... The phone rang that Holy Saturday afternoon. I answered it, and could barely make out my own mothers voice over her laughter... But she had asked was Casey home? Um yeah... So I put Casey on...
...I am right there, as I hear Casey say "Hi Grandma!" (in that excited and happy tone that beloved grandbabies always use)... ~I hear Casey say "What?!?!?!" ~And I watch her face turn a bit sour. ~A few seconds later she is almost crying... They talk a few more minutes and when I hear Casey say, "I love you too Grandma!" I know the conversation is over. She hands the phone back to me...
"Hello?" ... "HELLO?" ... "Mom?" ...Nothing. ...She had hung up.
And there was Casey standing by me as I hung up my phone too.
I asked her what was wrong? She said, "Grandma says the Easter Bunny is dead!"
A bit shocked, I giggle. (Bad choice of reactions)...
And so I ask...
She says, "Grandma went to go get her mail, and there he was, DEAD, in the middle of the road!"
I tried to quash that little voice in my head that had promptly begun singing the 'dead skunk' song)... ~crossin' the highway late last night, he shoulda looked left, and he shoulda looked right...
Then she said "Grandma is getting her shovel right now, and is gonna "BURY IT!"
...(hiccup~hiccup~hiccup)...
God help me, Mom...
I explained to Casey that Grandma was mistaken... (She sure left me holding the bag on this one when she'd hung up)...
I told Casey that it was only one of his helpers because the Easter Bunny is magic and would never just die in the middle of the road...
Troublemaker? Mama? ...(I rest my case).
Casey~Face was very hesitant to believe me... (Grandmas words are always more believable)...
That night then... to have Casey put flour down on the floor so she could see his footprints if he did come...
Smart kid~ ...(too smart)...
Waking the next morning to see his footprints there on the kitchen floor was more than enough validation for this precocious child of mine...
...And she happily went in search of the eggs he had hidden.
I didn't count those eggs that year...
hehehe
Have a splendid Saturday! I must go shovel snow...
XOXO
Anne
