Not being religious or young enough to want to dye and then hunt eggs, it's never seemed like Easter had much potential for the hubs and I. This has always irked me, celebration-junkie that I am. But this year, we live in a town full of grandparents and other relatives, and the day's appeal has become obvious.
This is the holiday that kicks off spring. It is a day to get dressed up in light-colored (though still warm!) spring attire and go calling on your loved ones.
And if you are lucky enough to have a family like mine, it's a day to eat really, really well. Basically, I choose to consider it an April Thanksgiving. And I am thankful.
I was happily surprised by this little basket of treasures on my grandmother's coffee table.
My mother emptied and painted these eggs when I was small. They are a prime example of why I will always think of myself as crafty and resourceful, but never artistic. That word I reserve for real art, such as this: