Sunday, March 23, 2008

In my Easter bonnet...

I'm not much of a hat person, but if bonnets were still in style (a la Little House on the Prairie) I'd be all over that fashion trend. So no, no Easter bonnet for me this year, but I did get an Easter BAG!

This morning David and I woke up early (despite a late night due to a late Easter vigil and celebratory reception in the parish hall). Among David's first wakeful words were, "I want a Cadbury egg." The man has been waiting for this treat all Lent - maybe even all year. So I retrieved the Easter box my mom sent and opened it in bed.


In addition to four Cadbury creme eggs for David, the box contained:

  • a bag of other chocolate treats, including speckly robin's eggs
  • a plastic bunny egg containing a wooden beaded bracelet
  • three chalk eggs (which we'll take with us this afternoon to draw on the sidewalk with our 3-year-old nephew)
  • a children's book containing two stories about bunnies (which David and I read to each other in bed)
  • a jar of Mom's homemade huckleberry peach jam (my all-time favorite jam, made with huckleberries my dad picks in the hills of NW Washington state)
  • a handful of pens and a bag of toiletries from hotels my dad stayed in (he's an airline pilot and gets put up in a lot of nice hotels all over the country)
  • and last, but best of all, a handmade fabric bag!!! Can you see the little music notes all over it? I love it!!
My mom has a wonderful mix of practicality and creativity. When my siblings and I were "too old" for Easter egg hunts, she started hiding baskets of goodies for each of us in the house. After a few years of baskets, she started filling all sorts of useful containers with our treats. A tray I got one year is currently holding our office supplies. The plastic box she gave me another year keeps all my hair ties and clips in one place. This cloth bag is a fabulous new idea.

Thank you so much, Mom! Happy Easter, everyone!

1 comment:

Diane said...

Glad you liked it! Happy Easter! We miss you!

Love, Mom & Dad