Hi.
Coffee: Cafe Pajaro, Trader Joe’s Brand; a dark roast, ‘dark as my soul’ as I like to say when I’m making small talk with co-workers; slick like melted butter; bitter like accidentally eaten grass.
The dog’s still with us. Right now, she’s sitting on the back of the couch. The house has a different feel with a small brown animal around.
Easter Sunday’s never meant much to me. I grew up secular and have continued to be. Maybe it’s better to say: the things I have faith in don’t often get labelled ‘religious.’ Anyway – today was Easter.
The most vivid memory I have of this holiday is painting eggs. After that, it’s wondering if the chocolate bunny will be hollow inside. I used to dye eggs with my mother the night before. This was an elementary school tradition, though I carried it on a little longer because I liked the bright kinds of colors the dyes made. We’d try to get creative. I had a wax pen I’d draw over the hard-boiled shells. The wax kept the dye lighter in spots so you’d create designs. The easiest designs were geometric, but I’d often make a heart, a house, a face. Rarely did my efforts turn into anything but a mess.
Today, the only thing I did to celebrate was go to the grocery store. I didn’t shop for holiday items (I came home with veggie ramen and laundry detergent) but there’s something festive about food stores anyway. Jesus dies, a bunny gives birth, you wait for the egg to hatch in a beautiful grass-laid basket – it’s all about new life. The other part of the story – the one they don’t talk about – is how something else dies to feed that life every single time. So I think it’s fitting to go food shopping on Easter.
I’m back to work tomorrow. Vacation over, I can’t tell whether I’m better for having taken the days off. Either way, I’ll wake up tomorrow and try all over again. A fitting holiday to end it on – rebirth.
Currently Reading: The Sense of an Ending, Julian Barnes (FINISHED! Will share thoughts soon)
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“Hallo, Rabbit,” he said, “is that you?”
A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh
“Let’s pretend it isn’t,” said Rabbit, “and see what happens.”
Livesay Writing 