Easter at grandma’s house

Old Yellow

Not much happening today; it is beautiful outside but a bit chilly. Needless to say I didn’t go riding looking for photo ops. Last night was one of much evil; I was not able to go to sleep until past daylight this morning. I finally did get a couple of hours sleep, but now I am feeling the hangover; blurry eyes, sleepy, and listless. This morning I did make another two tulip photos but I cannot see well enough to know it they are of satisfactory quality.
On her blog, Jola tells us a bit about Easters with her grandparents when she was a little girl. Easters for my family were somewhat the same as hers and also much different in ways. When I was little, I always had an Easter basket filled with candy eggs, jelly beans, chocolate rabbits, and other confections. On the day before Easter, my mother would hard boil two dozen eggs, color them with bright dyes–the dyes were very colorful when prepared, but I was always disappointed when the eggs came out much duller and flatter than what I desired. However, it was a fun time as I helped her with the coloring. On Easter Sunday, it was out of bed for me, dump the candies into a poke (brown paper bag), and refill the basket with colored eggs. Easter being an iffy time weather wise, we usually had a 50-50 chance of not having it rain and the air being warm enough to play outdoors. I would anxiously await the arrival of my cousins but I seemed to always be underfoot because I kept running to the kitchen to savor the meal being prepared by my mother and grandmother. Like Jola’s Polish Easter, we usually had a ham or pork shoulder in the oven surrounded by pots of boiling vegetables. My family, although serious believers in God, seldom went to church when I was very small; therefore Sunday mornings were put to use reading and discussing the newspaper by the men and cooking by the women. When my cousins finally arrived and the weather was at least fairly decent, we conned my uncles into hiding the eggs all over the yard and sometimes all the way back to the woods. When they finished concealing the ovals, we would grab our baskets from their hands and take to the bushes in search of dozens of eggs; laughing and hollering every time we found one. This went on until dinner was ready, usually around 1pm; the grownups always gave the local preachers time to shoo off their congregations and come calling for a free meal. It didn’t happen often, but when it did we all felt blessed that he and his family were there to give thanks and share the provisions of the Almighty. After our meal, the uncles sort of disappeared and the kids were left to conceal and hunt Easter eggs in a hide-and-go-seek style. Being kids and being cousins, we usually ended up wasting a few eggs as we tried to hit one another on the noggin with good, hard throws. This lasted until someone got mad and told the grownups. We then settled in to eating eggs and candy, thus ruining our supper appetites. Sometimes in summertime when I was out playing or exploring, I would come across an egg that had been too well hidden and was still uncracked; it usually wound up slung against a tree trunk and stinking to high-heaven. When I got a little older, my mother decided a dose of old timey religion should be enjoyed by her only offspring, so on Easter it was less candy, but I got new clothes to show off at church on Sunday; I much preferred the sweet goodies.
Have a great Easter week, my friends.

Published in: on April 17, 2011 at 4:13 pm  Comments (11)  
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11 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Your childhood was so carefree. If I could spend Easter Sunday with your family I would like a lot your basket of coloured eggs. Hiding eggs is lovely custom and wonderful play for children. I know it from your blog and from the movie “Steel Magnolias”; one of the best films I have ever seen in my life. It’s funny that some of eggs were so well hidden that you could find them even in summer.
    I think Polish Easter is not so much sweet as American, nevertheless our different Easter cakes (serniki, mazurki, baby drożdżowe) are truly delicious.
    Thanks for your great post, my friend. 🙂

    I like the softness of your photo. It’s well done. Yellow petals and black background are splendid.

  2. In USA, Easter is more of a commercial enterprise than a religious holiday but kids still hide eggs, many of which are store-bought plastic ones. “Steel Magnolias” is a great movie and Shirley MacLaine is one of my all time favorite actors.
    Here is one of our local Easter traditions:
    I was hoping the tulip turned out ok.
    Thanks, Jola. 🙂

    • I had to get back here. I’ve just watched this short video. I didn’t manage to follow their speaking (my weak English) but I simply love to see all these people and hear them. They are charming! Only this one little girl in the pink coat didn’t want to play. 😦
      We also have our Eastern baskets full of coloured eggs. However, we don’t hide them. It’s interesting; I also put the eggs to the pot with onion scales (shells), and later they are beautifully red. 🙂

      • It is difficult for anyone outside the mountain community to understand most of what we say; our dialect is unique. Most ot it I didn’t understand either.
        Eggs seem to be the common denominator for Easter no matter where one lives.
        Thanks, Jola. 🙂

  3. My favorite Easter memory is going to an Easter egg hunt in the snow.
    Odd how some things stick with you.

    • Yep, we had a few in the snow, also; they usually wound up in a slushy snowball fight.

  4. I love the sharing of these easter stories. How fun! my mother raised my brothers and I on a very limited sugar diet, no meat, and as many raw veggies as she could get into us. So we didn’t have regular sweeties like you did Ken or sweet cakes like you Jola. Insead we had carob-coated rasins and carob bunnies. I don’t know if you are familar with carob but it is supposed to imitate chocolate and doesn’t in the least. It is bitter and dry and not very nice to eat. Some health freaks like it I suppose but not young children with visions of marshmallow easter peeps and jellybeans in their heads. We dyed our eggs the night before “the coming of the bunny” and mom hid them which was great fun. As we lived on a small family farm we dyed duck eggs which are GIANT compared to chicken eggs and were fun find as well. Incidently we had a duck lay on about 30 eggs one time for months until we took them away from her. The eggs, of course, were all rotten and loads of fun for my brothers and I as they became self-containing stink bombs. We had a rotten duck egg fight which was so memorable we still talk about it! No religion was involved in our easter day at all that I can recall. I still dye eggs and make easter baskets for my kids because it is so fun for me. I tell them always… “if you stop believing in the Easter Bunny she stops coming.” happy Monday to you all.

    • Rotten duck egg fight?! Dear God! 😉
      Tammy …. unfortunately, I don’t know such thing like ‘carob’. You really should taste one of our Easter cakes; a bit of it, at least. 🙂

    • This is a very good story, I hope you will allow me to put it on the blog and attribute it to you.
      My cousins had a gamut of eggs; hen eggs, duck eggs, goose eggs and guinea hen eggs. They lived on a large farm. When I was very small I had a pet duck, but he was determined not to lay and egg even as much as I begged him to. That mama duck of yours was determined to have a family. I can just imagine the smell of the rotted eggs.
      “if you stop believing in the Easter Bunny she stops coming.” I hope you told your kids the same thing.
      Thanks, Tammy.

  5. Ken
    Love the Easter stories. Mine was always going to a sunrise service.
    Then we had the dinner at my grandmothers and hiding the eggs.
    Now I still love going to a sunrise service. My church serves breakfast after the sunrise service. Make is worth getting up early.
    I still love chocolate Easter Bunnies.
    Have a great Easter, my friend.

    • Hi Sweet Alice,
      Easter sunrise services seem to be very common; except for the church I attended. To them, every Sunday was celebrated as Easter. I bet there is some good food after the service. I’m glad you still have your Easter memories, mine seem to be running together anymore; I cannot think of one that was remarkable from my own childhood.
      You and the family have a good Easter, too, young lady.

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