Old Lady in the Snow

Every time I walk down to the mailbox, I am startled by our tree wrapped in burlap to keep the moose from eating its bark. EVERY TIME.

Dinner last night: roasted chicken sandwiches

Serenity Now

I thought it would be nice to take a photo of Grandma with her granddaughters dressed up in all their Easter finery. Is it asking too much for people to sit still for five seconds with open eyes and a normal smile? Why, yes, Kim. Yes, it is. 

Quiet on the set! Easter Portrait . . . Take One! What the . . . ? CUT! Someone get those two to open their eyes, please.

Okay, let's try this again. Easter Portrait . . . Take Two! For crying out loud . . . CUT!! Now the little one has her eyes closed.

This is it. C'mon now! Let's get serious. Easter Portrait . . . Take Three! Wait . . . what are you doing? CUT!!!!!

Please, people! Quiet on the set! Easter Portrait . . . Take Four! Annnnd . . . CUT!!!! Why in the world are those two girls tilting their heads like that?

Let's try this one more time. Easter Portrait . . . Take Five! Okay, girls, give us a great big smile! Whoa! Not that big! I said, not that big of a smile! Tone it down! You look insane! Hey! Toothless kid!! You look crazy! CUT!!!!!!

Places! Easter Portrait . . . Take Six! Alright, girls, lookin' good . . . wait a minute! Did you not hear what I just said about toning it down? CUT!!! Someone wipe that enormous grin off the kid in the middle.

Beautiful! Hold it right there, girls! I think we've got it! Easter Portrait . . . Take Seven! Hold that smile . . . hold it . . .

Oh, no. You've got to be kidding me. CUT!!!!!!!

Dinner last night: Hawaiian pizza

They're Weird, But I Love 'Em

When I was a kid, my sister and I dyed real eggs. My mom would hide them on Easter morning and we'd search for them. It wasn't until I was 30 years old that I discovered other families hid chocolate eggs and plastic eggs full of candy and money.

I was educated by a friend of mine, who regaled me with stories of her family's annual Easter celebrations. All the mothers filled dozens and dozens of plastic eggs with candy and marked a special egg for every child. Inside each special egg they tucked $20!

My friend told me about the year that she was in charge of hiding all the eggs outdoors while everyone ate dinner inside; she hid the eggs so well, they couldn't find one of the money eggs. They looked in all the children's baskets, in case one of them had accidentally picked it up. No money egg. The adults split up and scoured the property, lifting stones and checking tree branches. No money egg. To this day, the whereabouts of that money egg remains a mystery. It has become a family legend, how great an egg-hider my friend is.

I'm a odd mix of naivete and street smarts, I guess, because—although I had never heard of a money egg until her story and had, in fact, not participated in her family's Easter egg hunt—I knew exactly where that money egg was hidden. In Uncle Ernie's shirt pocket. Or maybe under little Benjamin's hat. That egg was found by a devious family member who knew how to keep his mouth shut. But I digress.

I've tried over the years to do the same thing. Not hide $20 bills, but hide eggs full of candy and coins. And you know what? My girls prefer real eggs. They're not going to spit out a jelly bean if it accidentally falls into their mouth, but they really do get excited about collecting the most hen-laid eggs in their baskets. It means a good three days of yummy high cholesterol snacks. Tell me, what kid doesn't love a hard-boiled egg with a little salt? Or an egg-salad sandwich on whole wheat bread? Oh, right. Most kids.

Dinner last night: ham and bean soup, cornbread