Sunday, March 31, 2013

Easter Breakfast

Mike and I will be having our Easter dinner tomorrow--He's cooking a ham and asked me to make macaroni and cheese to go with it, while I'm excited about the broccoli-cauliflower salad and cake--but this afternoon I surprised him with a late Easter breakfast so we would have something festive on the table today too.  
I love holiday foods and tables.  My mom is the same way, and our conversations on the subject, usually held while looking at pictures we're clipping from magazines, always find us saying the same things:  "Look at this, Vally!  Isn't this cute!"  "Oh, honestly, Mom, the people who come up with these ideas for magazines have the BEST job!"  "I'd eat themed food every night if your dad would go for it."  And then she tells me again about how when she and Dad were first married, she was in her Daisy-collecting period and had them on everything, so the first breakfast she made for him was sunny-side-up eggs cooked into Daisy-shaped molds.  "I think he started wondering then what he'd gotten himself into," she concludes.  When I called home a little while ago to wish my parents a happy Easter, I told Mom about today's rabbit-shaped pancakes, egg casserole nests with potato eggs, and bacon Tulips, and predictably, she ooohed and ahhed.  
The practice I got painting those bunnies onto my Easter cards last week paid off during batter-pouring today:  Mike's pancake actually turned out bunny-shaped on the first attempt.  :)  A donut hole rolled in coconut flakes made the tail.   
I never did find a bouquet of my beloved Daffodils at the store, so I tucked a couple sprigs of my silk ones around the table.  The yellow gingham tablecloth is actually a small bedspread I found at a thrift shop a few years ago.  It was a simple table and a sweet breakfast with my Mike.  I hope you've all had a wonderful Easter too.    

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

This Year's Easter Cards

I wish I'd thought of this a week ago, as now the race is on to get these mailed out in time for a Saturday arrival.  I didn't see any packaged Easter cards in the stores this year that interested me, and late last night, it occured to that a simple rabbit silhouette would look sweet against these pink, yellow, and green plaid notecards I already had.  I looked at a few silhouette images online, drew an outline in pen, and then began painting.  I'm happy with (most of) them, but I wish inspiration had struck sooner.  I haven't decided on what-all I'm making for Easter dinner or dessert yet either.  'Definitely not my most-organized holiday ever, but there are still a few days for me to get it together. 

Friday, March 22, 2013

Oh I wish it was spring of the year again. Forsythia bloomin' by the fence and the Crocus comin' up through the snow. . . . ~ Olivia Walton in The Homecoming

The local church's garden that had such beautiful Irises in bloom last spring has patches of egg yolk-and-indigo-colored Crocuses today.  I've never been a big Crocus-lover, but after the seemingly never-ending winter this year, every single one I spot peeping out in yards around town delights me.  Springtime!  Bring it!  

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Sad Sack Looks Forward to April

When I finally got around to treating myself to the Daffodils, the store was out of them and had moved on to other flowers.  And that kind of sums up March So Far.  There was also the moment Monday night when after what seemed like three weeks straight of  my bumbling through life like Sad Sack, I was washing dishes and noticed how beautiful it all was:  The grooved orange cereal bowl, the curvy bottle of pink (pink!) dish liquid (Palmolive "Soft Touch" with Vitamin E [it's lovely]), the mounds of sparkling soap suds, the green plaid dish cloth. . . .It was all so colorful and so pretty, and the sink smelled rich from the soap, and my hands were warm in the water, and finally, finally, my mood lifted.  I breathed it all in and thought about how lucky I was, how blessed, really, to be able to enjoy such a moment.  And I told myself to laugh off the absurdities and blunders of the past few weeks, to make amends where needed, and to go ahead and just declare this March over already and start anew.  I even imagined myself writing about it here, the rainbow of dishes in the sink and the rainbows on bubbles in the soap suds and the gift of--and the life-long lesson in--seeing beauty where others see a mess.  I had the blog post half-composed in my head when, lost in my revelry, I somehow squeezed the sink's hose nozzle and sprayed myself full-on in the face.  Water up my nose, water flooding my eyes, water dripping out of my hair, water trickling from my face down into my bra. . . .And so March continued.  You really do just have to laugh.

The month's best laugh came from Stuffed, however, who decided to help us do our taxes Sunday afternoon.

He had seen paper clips many times before, so I don't know what the fascination was Sunday, but he went to this clipped pile of Mike's tax forms over and over and over, looking ever more shark-like each time he approached the pile.  This is a ten-second clip, but this went on for about an hour before we took the papers away from him a final time and settled down to the thrill that is tax-prep, and we laughed until we ached every time he ran off with them.  God bless curious little cats.